Terry Goodkind - Soul of the Fire

Even without his sword, he looked at once noble and sinister. Regal, and deadly. He looked like a commander of kings. And like the embodiment of what the prophecies had named him: the bringer of death.

Under all that, Kahlan knew him to still possess the kind and generous heart he had as a woods guide. Rather than diminish all the rest, his simple sincerity only reinforced the veracity of it.

His sinister appearance was both warranted and in many ways an illusion. While single-minded and fierce in opposition to their foes, Kahlan knew him to be profoundly gentle, understanding, and kind. She had never known a man more fair, or patient. She thought him the most rare person she had ever met.

Ann smiled broadly at Kahlan, touching her face much as a kindly grandmother might do with a beloved child. Kahlan felt heartwarming honesty in the gesture. Her eyes sparkling, Ann did the same to Richard.

Fingering gray hair into the loose bun at the back of her head, she turned to feed a small stick of bundled grass into the fire. “I hope your first day married is going well?”

Kahlan briefly met Richard’s gaze. “A little earlier today we went to the warm springs for a bath.” Kahlan’s smile, along with Richard’s, faded. “One of the hunters guarding us died.”

Her words brought the full attention of both Zedd and Ann.

“How?” Ann asked.

“Drowned.” Richard held out a hand in invitation for everyone to sit. “The stream was shallow, but near as we can tell, he didn’t stumble or fall.” He waggled a thumb over his shoulder as the four of them settled around the Grace drawn in the dirt in the center of the room. “We took him to a building back there.”

Zedd glanced over Richard’s shoulder, almost as if he might be able to see through the wall and view Juni’s body. “I’ll have a look.” He peered up at Cara, standing guard with her back against the door. “What do you think happened?”

Without hesitation, Cara said, “I think Juni became a danger. While looking for Lord Rahl in order to harm him, Juni fell and drowned.”

Zedd’s eyebrows arched. He turned to Richard. “A danger! Why would the man turn belligerent toward you?”

Richard scowled over his shoulder at the Mord-Sith. “Cara’s wrong. He wasn’t trying to harm us.” Satisfied when she didn’t argue, he returned his attention to his grandfather. “When we found him—dead—he had an odd look in his eyes. He saw something before he died that left a mask of . . . I don’t know . . . longing, or something, on his face.

“Nissel, the healer, came and inspected his body. She said he had no injuries, but that he drowned.”

Richard braced a forearm on his knee as he leaned in. “Drowned, Zedd, in six inches of water. Nissel said evil spirits killed him.”

Zedd’s eyebrows rose even higher. “Evil spirits?”

“The Mud People believe evil spirits sometimes come and take the life of a villager,” Kahlan explained. “The villagers leave offerings before clay figures in a couple of the buildings over there.” She lifted her chin toward the north. “Apparently, they believe that leaving rice cakes will appease these evil spirits. As if ‘evil spirits’ could eat, or could be easily bribed.”

Outside, the rain lashed at the buildings. Water ran in a dark stain below the window and dripped here and there through the grass roof. Thunder rumbled almost constantly, taking the place of the now silent drums.

“Ah, I see,” Ann said. She looked up with a smile Kahlan found curious. “So, you think the Mud People gave you a paltry wedding, compared to the grand affair you would have had back in Aydindril. Hmm?”

Perplexed, Kahlan’s brow tightened. “Of course not. It was the most beautiful wedding we could have wished for.”

“Really?” Ann swept her arm out, indicating the surrounding village. “People in gaudy dress and animal skins? Their hair slicked down with mud? Naked children running about, laughing, playing, during such a solemn ceremony? Men painted in frightening mud masks dancing and telling stories of animals, hunts, and wars? This is what makes a good wedding to your mind?”

“No . . . those things aren’t what I meant, or material,” Kahlan stammered. “It’s what was in their hearts that made it so special. It was that they sincerely shared our joy that made it meaningful to us. And what does that have to do with offering rice cakes to imagined evil spirits?”

With the side of a finger, Ann ordered one of the lines on the Grace—the line representing the underworld. “When you say, ‘Dear spirits, watch over my departed mother’s soul,’ do you expect the dear spirits to rush all of a sudden to do so because you’ve put words to the wish?”

Kahlan could feel her face flush. She often asked the dear spirits to watch over her mother’s soul. She was beginning to see why Zedd found the woman so vexing.

Richard came to Kahlan’s rescue. “The prayers are not actually meant as a direct request, since we know the spirits don’t work in such simple ways, but are meant to convey heartfelt feelings of love and hope for her mother’s peace in the next world.” He stroked his finger along the opposite side of the same line Ann had ordered. “The same as my prayers for my mother,” he added in a whisper.

Ann’s cheeks plumped as she smiled. “So they are, Richard. The Mud People must know better than to try to bribe with rice cakes the powerful forces they believe in and fear, don’t you suppose?”

“It’s the act of making the offering that’s important,” Richard said. By his unruffled attitude toward the woman it was apparent to Kahlan that Richard had learned to pick the berries out of the nettles.

Too, Kahlan understood what he meant. “It’s the supplication to forces they fear that is really meant to appease the unknown.”

Ann’s finger rose along with her brow. “Yes. The nature of the offering is really only symbolic, meant to show homage, and by such an obeisance to this power they hope to placate it.” Ann’s finger wilted. “Sometimes, the act of courteous yielding is enough to stay an angry foe, yes?”

Kahlan and Richard both agreed it was.

“Better to kill the foe and be done with it,” Cara sniped from back at the door.

Ann chuckled, leaning back to look over at Cara. “Well, sometimes, my dear, there is merit to such an alternative.”

“And how would you ‘kill’ evil spirits,” Zedd asked in a thin voice that cut through the drumming of the rain.

Cara didn’t have an answer and so she glared instead.

Richard wasn’t listening to them. He seemed to be transfixed by the Grace as he spoke. “By the same token, evil spirits . . . and such could be angered by a gesture of disrespect.”

Kahlan was just opening her mouth to ask Richard why he was suddenly taking the Mud People’s evil spirits so seriously when Zedd’s fingers touched the side of her leg. His sidelong glance told her that he wanted her to be quiet.

“Some think it so, Richard,” Zedd offered quietly.

“Why did you draw this symbol, this Grace?” Richard asked.

“Ann and I were using it to evaluate a few matters. At times, a Grace can be invaluable.

“A Grace is a simple thing, and yet it is infinitely complex. Learning about the Grace is a lifetime’s journey, but like a child learning to walk, it begins with a first step. Since you were born with the gift, we also thought this would be a good time to introduce you to it.”

Richard’s gift was largely an enigma to him. Now that they were back with his grandfather, Richard needed to delve the mysteries of that birthright and at last begin to chart the foreign landscape of his power. Kahlan wished they had the time Richard needed, but they didn’t.