Terry Goodkind - Temple of the Winds

He could taste the terror. Denna had captured him. She had tortured him for days. He was delirious and weak. Every step was painful as he followed Denna through the grand dining hall. His wrists were cut and swollen from the manacles she used to shackle him up to a beam. When Denna stopped and spoke to people, Richard kept his eyes to her braid as he silently waited behind her.

Denna controlled his life, his destiny. He was allowed only that which she granted. He hadn’t eaten since she had captured him. He longed to eat something. Anything.

All around, the jumble of talking and laughter from the queen’s guests droned in his head. Denna, too, was a guest of the queen. Richard, at the end of a chain running from his mistress to a collar around his neck, was Denna’s prisoner.

She hadn’t let him eat during those days of torture, and he needed food. As she sat at the dining table, Denna snapped her fingers, pointing at the floor behind her chair. Richard sank to the floor, relieved to be allowed that small comfort. He could rest. He wasn’t hanging from the shackles; he wasn’t being made to stand all night; he wasn’t being tortured.

All of the guests were eating. The varied aromas tormented him. He ached with hunger. Everyone else was eating, but he had to sit on the floor behind Denna, watching what others enjoyed—what he was denied.

Richard thought about the times he had been with Kahlan, at camp, eating rabbit cooked over the fire or porridge sweetened with berries. He licked his lips thinking about the succulent, hot, tender meat, brown and crunchy on the outside from the fire. He had so enjoyed those meals with her. The food and the company were the best.

Now, he was denied that life, and was yoked to another. After everyone else had been eating for a while, a server brought a bowl of gruel. Denna had him hand it down to Richard. He held it in trembling hands. Almost any time before, he would have cast it aside in disgust, but now, it was all he had.

He was made to put it on the floor and to eat it like a dog, while laughter from the guests filled his ears. He didn’t care. He was being allowed to eat at last.

Gruel was all he was allowed, but at that moment, in his state of tormented need, it was wonderful—it was freedom from the ache of hunger, freedom from the misery of seeing others eat while he starved, fulfillment of a simple but long denied need.

He slurped at it, relishing it, gulping it down. He could not escape his imprisonment in his new life, over which he had no say, and so he decided that if gruel was all he would be allowed, then he would have to accept that fact, and sate his hunger with what he was given. The light flashed in his head.

Color bled from his sight, vanishing almost painfully, and he saw again the muted mists of the Temple of the Winds around him.

Richard was on his hands and knees on the floor, panting in terror. The glowing white spirit of Denna lowered over him.

Denna was right. She could hurt him, still. This pain, though, she had given him out of love.

Richard staggered to his feet. How could he have thought he was ignorant before, and that the knowledge of the Temple of the Winds had brought him new sight? He had had sight all along, but had failed to see. Knowledge without heart was empty.

Wizard Ricker had left, with the sliph, a message for him, but he had ignored it.

Ward left in. Ward right out. Guard your heart from stone.

He had failed to guard his heart from stone, and it had almost cost him everything.

“Thank you, Denna, for that gift of pain.”

“It has taught you something, Richard?”

“That I have to go home, back to my world.”

“Thank you, Richard, for living up to what I expect of you.”

Richard smiled. “Were you not a spirit, I’d kiss you.”

Denna smiled a sad smile. “The thought is the gift, Richard.”

Richard shared a gaze with her for a moment, a gaze between worlds. “Denna, please tell Raina that we all love her.”

“Raina knows this. Feelings of the heart cross the boundary.”

Richard nodded. “Then you know how much we love you, too.”

“That is why I came to vouch for you in your quest to the winds.”

Richard held his arm out. “Would you escort me to the passageway? I would find peace in your company before I leave this empty place. The worst is yet ahead of me.”

Denna glided along at his side as he headed for the passageway out, striding the Hall of the Winds for the last time. They didn’t speak; words were too paltry to touch what was in his heart.

Near the great doors, the spirit of Darken Rahl waited.

“Going somewhere, my son?”

The sound of his words echoed painfully through the hall.

Richard glared at the spirit of his father. “Back to my world.”

“There is nothing for you there. Kahlan, your true love, is married to another man. She has sworn an oath to him before the spirits.”

“You could never understand why I’m going back.”

“Kahlan is married to my son, Drefan. You cannot have her now.”

“That is not why I’m going back.”

“Then why leave this place? The world of life will be empty for you now.”

Richard stalked past the spirit of his father. He didn’t have to explain his reasons to the one who had caused so much grief. Denna glided along beside Richard. At the doors.

Darken Rahl appeared again, blocking the way. “You may not leave.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“Oh, yes, my son, I can.”

“You must let him pass,” Denna said.

“Only if he agrees to the terms.”

Richard turned to Denna. “What’s he talking about?”

“The spirits set the requirements for your path into our world. Because it was your unique path here, Darken Rahl was called upon and given commensurate sway over your price for coming here, your sacrifice to come here. Darken Rahl set the more onerous of the sacrifices, such as Drefan marrying Kahlan. If one who participated in your coming so chooses, this spirit also has the right to set requirements if you are to leave.”

“I will simply banish him,” Richard said. “I know how to do that, now. I can banish him from the winds, and then leave.”

“It is not that simple,” Denna said. “You traveled from the world of life, through the underworld, to this place within the world of souls. You must return through the underworld. The spirits can set a price. It must, however, be one that is fair, in view of the forces and worlds involved, and it must be a price within your ability to satisfy.”

Richard ran his fingers back through his hair. “And I must pay?”

“If he names a price within the edicts, then you must, if you are to return to your world.”

Smiling that vile smile of his, Darken Rahl glided closer. “I only have two small, insignificant requirements. Meet them, and you may return to your brother, Drefan, and his wife.”

Richard glared. “Name them, but if you set the price too high, and I choose not to pay it and remain here instead, then I swear I will devote my eternity to making your soul twist in torment. And you know I can do it—the winds have taught me how.”

“Then I guess you will have to decide just how important this is to you, my son. I think you will pay it.”

Richard didn’t want to tell him how important it was, or the price would climb. “Name the price, and I will decide if I will pay it. I was willing to stay here, I may yet decide to do so.”

Darken Rahl came closer, close enough that the pain of his spirit coruscation was almost enough to make Richard back away. He willed himself to hold his ground, without a shield of magic.

“Oh, the price is going to be high, indeed, but I think you will pay it. I know you, Richard. I know your foolish heart. Even this price, you will pay for her.”