Terry Goodkind - Wizard's First Rule

“I cannot,” Shota whispered. “I have granted a wish. A very foolish one.”

Richard could hardly stand the pain of seeing Kahlan like this, asking to die. The lump in his throat threatened to choke him.

Kahlan suddenly cried out and threw up her arms, to make the snakes bite her. Richard lunged for them, but they were gone. Kahlan held out her arms, looking for snakes that were no longer there.

“I’m sorry, Kahlan. If I were to let them bite you, it would break the wish I granted.”

Kahlan collapsed to her knees, crying with her face against the ground, her fingers digging into the earth. “I’m so sorry, Richard,” she wept. Her fists grabbed at the grass, then his pants legs. “Please, Richard,” she sobbed. “Please. I’m sworn to protect you. So many have already died. Take the sword and kill me. Do it. Please, Richard, kill me.”

“Kahlan . . . I could never . . .” He couldn’t make any more words come.

“Richard,” Shota said, nearly in tears herself, “if she isn’t killed, then before Rahl opens the boxes, she will use her power against you. There is no doubt of this. None. It cannot be changed if she lives. I granted your wish, I cannot kill her. So you must.”

“No!” he shrieked.

Kahlan wailed again in anguish and pulled her knife. As she brought it up to plunge it into herself, Richard grabbed her wrist.

“Please, Richard,” she cried, falling against him, “you don’t understand. I have to. If I live I will be responsible for what Rahl will do. For everything that will happen.”

Richard pulled her up by her wrist and held her to him with one arm as she cried, keeping her arm twisted behind her back so she couldn’t use the knife on herself. He glared angrily at Shota, who stood with her hands loose at her sides, watching. Was any of this possible? Could it be true? He wished he had listened to Kahlan and never come here.

He relaxed his pressure on Kahlan’s arm when he realized by the way she cried that he was hurting her. He wondered numbly if he should let her kill herself. His hand shook.

“Please, Richard,” Shota said, tears in her own eyes, “hate me for who I am if you will, but do not hate me for telling you the truth.”

“The truth as you see it, Shota! But maybe not the truth as it will be. I will not kill Kahlan on your word.” Shota nodded sadly, looking at him through wet eyes.

“Queen Milena has the last box of Orden.” She spoke in a voice barely more than a whisper. “But heed this warning: she will not have it for long. If, that is, you choose to believe the truth, as I see it.” She turned to her companion, “Samuel,” she said gently, “guide them out of the Reach. Do not take anything that belongs to them. I would be very displeased if you did. That includes the Sword of Truth.”

Richard saw a tear run down her cheek as she turned without looking at him and began walking up the road. She stopped in midstride and stood a moment—her beautiful auburn hair lay upon her shoulders and partway down the back of the wispy dress. Her head came up, but didn’t turn back to him.

“When this is over,” she said in a voice that broke with emotion, “and if you should happen to win . . . don’t ever come here again. If you do . . . I will kill you.”

She walked on, toward her palace.

“Shota,” he whispered hoarsely, “I’m sorry.”

She did not stop or turn, but continued on.

When she came around the corner, she almost bumped into his legs, he was walking so quietly. She looked up the long silver robes to his face, far up in the air.

“Giller! You scared me!”

His hands were each stuck in the other sleeve. “Sorry, Rachel, I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He looked both ways down the hall and then lowered himself to the floor. “What are you about?”

“Errands,” she told him, letting out a deep breath. “Princess Violet says I’m to go yell at the cooks for her, and then I’m to go to the washwomen and tell them that she found a gravy stain on one of her dresses, and that she would never get gravy on one of her dresses, and that they must have done it, and if she ever finds they do that again, she’ll have their heads chopped off. I don’t want to say that to them, they’re nice.” She touched the pretty silver braiding on the sleeve of Giller’s robes. “But she said that if I don’t say it, I’ll be in a lot of trouble.”

Giller nodded. “Well, just do as she says, I’m sure the washwomen will know they aren’t really your words.”

Rachel looked in his big dark eyes. “Everyone knows she gets her own gravy on her own dresses.”

Giller laughed a quiet laugh. “You’re right, I’ve seen her do it myself. But it brings no fortune to pull the tail of a sleeping badger.” She didn’t understand, and made a face. “That means you will get in trouble if you point it out to her, so it’s best to keep still.”

Rachel nodded—she knew that that was true. Giller looked up and down the hall again, but there was no one else there.

He leaned closer and whispered, “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to talk to you, to check. Did you find your trouble doll?”

She nodded with a smile. “Thank you so much, Giller. She’s wonderful. I’ve been put out twice more since you gave her to me. She told me how I mustn’t talk to you unless you say it’s safe, so I just waited, like she said. We talked and talked, and she made me feel so much better.”

“I’m glad, child.” He smiled.

“I named her Sara. A doll’s got to have a name, you know.”

“Is that so?” He lifted an eyebrow. “I never knew that. Well, Sara is a fine name for her then.”

Rachel grinned—she was happy that Giller liked her doll’s name. She put one arm around his neck and her face by his ear. “Sara’s been telling me her troubles too,” she whispered. “I promised her I would help you. I never knew you wanted to run away too. When can we leave, Giller? I’m getting so afraid of Princess Violet.”

His big hand patted her back when she hugged him. “Soon, child. But there are things we must prepare first, so we aren’t found out. We wouldn’t want anyone to follow us, to find us and bring us back, now, would we?”

Rachel shook her head against his shoulder—then she heard footsteps. Giller stood up, looking down the hall.

“Rachel, it would be very bad if we were seen talking. Someone might . . . find out about the doll. About Sara.”

“I better go,” she said in a hurry.

“No time. Stand against the wall, show me how brave, and quiet you can be.”

She did what he told her and he stood in front of her, hiding her behind his robes. Rachel heard the clinking of armor. Just some guards, she thought. Then she heard the little barks. The Queen’s dog! It must be the Queen and her guards! They would be in a fine mess if the Queen found her hiding behind the wizard’s robes. She might find out about the doll! She scrunched up tighter in the dark folds. The robes moved a little when Giller bowed.

“Your Majesty,” Giller said as he stood back up.

“Giller!” she said in her mean voice. “What are you doing lurking about up here?”

“Lurking, Your Majesty? It was my understanding I was in your employ to see to it there was no lurking going on. I was merely checking the magic seal on the jewel room to make sure it hadn’t been tampered with.” Rachel heard the little dog sniffing around the bottom of Giller’s robes. “If it is your wish, Your Majesty, I will leave matters to the fates, and not investigate where I feel a worry.” The little dog came around the side of the robes, close to her—she could hear the sniff, sniff, sniff. Rachel wished he would leave, before she got found out. “We will all just go to bed at night with a simple prayer to the good spirits that when Father Rahl arrives, all will be well. And if anything is amiss, well, we can simply tell him we didn’t want to have any lurking about, so we didn’t check. Perhaps he will be understanding.”