Terry Goodkind - Wizard's First Rule

His father had found a pass, gone into the Midlands, and brought the book back. Richard was shocked and excited at the same time. His father had done it! He had gone across the boundary. Richard was elated. Now he knew there was a way across—it could be done. He still had to find the pass, but that didn’t matter for now. There was a pass—that was what mattered.

Richard turned back to the other two. “We will go have supper.”

“I put a stew on, just before you awoke, and there is fresh bread,” Kahlan offered.

“Bags!” Zedd threw his scarecrow arms up into the air. “It’s about time someone remembered supper!”

Richard gave a little smile in the dark. “After we’ve eaten, we’ll make preparations, decide what we need to take, what we can carry, get our provisions together and packed tonight. We’ll need to get a good night’s sleep. We leave at first light.” He turned and headed for the house. The faint glow of the fire coming from the windows offered warmth and light.

Zedd held up an arm. “Where are we headed, my boy?”

“The Midlands,” Richard called back over his shoulder.

Zedd was halfway through his second bowl of stew before he could bring himself to stop eating long enough to talk. “So, what have you figured out? Is there truly a way to cross the boundary?”

“There is.”

“Are you sure? How can it be? How can we cross without going through?”

Richard smiled as he stirred his stew. “You don’t have to get wet to cross a river.” The lamp light flickered on their faces as Kahlan and Zedd frowned in puzzlement. Kahlan turned and threw a small piece of meat to the cat, who was sitting on his haunches, waiting for any handout. Zedd ate another slab of bread before he was able to ask his next question.

“And how do you know there is a way across?”

“There is. That’s all that matters.”

Zedd had an innocent look on his face. “Richard.” He ate two more spoonfuls of stew. “We are your friends. There are no secrets among us. You can tell us.”

Richard looked from one big pair of eyes to the other, and laughed out loud. “I’ve had strangers tell me more of themselves.”

Zedd and Kahlan both backed away a little at the rebuff and looked at each other, but neither dared repeat the question.

They talked on as they ate, of what they had at hand to take with them, how much they could do to prepare in such a short time, and what their priorities should be. They listed everything they could think of, each offering items to be taken. There was much to do and little time. Richard asked Kahlan if she traveled the Midlands often. She said that was almost all she ever did.

“And you wear that dress when you travel.”

“I do.” She hesitated. “People recognize me by it. I don’t stay in the woods. Wherever I go, I am always provided with food and a place to stay, and anything else I might require.”

Richard wondered why. He didn’t press, but he knew the dress she wore was more than something she bought in a shop. “Well, with the three of us being hunted, I don’t think we want people to recognize you. I think we need to stay away from people as much as possible, keep to the woods when we can.” She and Zedd both nodded their agreement. “We will need to find you some traveling clothes, forest garb, but there is nothing here that will fit you. We’ll have to find something on the way. I have a hooded cloak here. It will keep you warm for now.”

“Good,” she said smiling, “I’m tired of being cold, and I can tell you, a dress is not right for the woods.”

Kahlan finished before the men and put her half-full bowl on the floor for the cat. The cat seemed to have the same appetite as Zedd and was eating out of the bowl before she could set it down.

They discussed each item they would take, and planned how they would do without others. There was no telling how long they would be gone, Westland was a big place, and the Midlands bigger. Richard wished they could go to his house, since he often went on long treks and had the right kinds of provisions, but it was too big a risk. He would rather find the things they needed elsewhere, or go without, than go back to what waited there. He didn’t know yet where they were going to cross the boundary, but he wasn’t worried. He still had until morning to think about it. He was just relieved to know there was a way.

The cat’s head came up. He crossed half the distance to the door and stopped, back and fur rising. Everyone noticed and fell silent. There was firelight in the front window, but it wasn’t reflecting from the hearth. It was coming from outside.

“I smell burning pitch,” Kahlan said.

In an instant the three were on their feet. Richard grabbed the sword from the back of his chair and had it on almost before he was to his feet. He went to look out the window, but Zedd didn’t waste the time and went through the door in a rush with Kahlan in tow. Richard got only a glimpse of torches before he hurried out after the other two.

Spread out in the long grass in front of the house was a mob of about fifty men, some carrying torches, but most carrying crude weapons, axes, pitchforks, scythes, or axe handles. They were dressed in their work clothes. Richard recognized many of the faces, good men, honest, hardworking family men. They didn’t look like good men this night, though. They looked to be in a foul mood, their faces grim and angry. Zedd stood in the center of the porch, hands on his skinny hips, smiling out at them, the red light from the torches making his white hair pink.

“What’s this then, boys?” Zedd asked.

They mumbled among themselves, and several men in front took a step or two forward. Richard knew the one, John, who spoke for the rest.

“There’s trouble about. Trouble caused by magic! And you’re at the bottom of it, old man! You’re a witch!”

“A witch?” Zedd asked in bewilderment. “A witch?”

“That’s what I said, a witch!” John’s dark eyes shifted to Richard and Kahlan. “This doesn’t concern you two. Our business is with the old man. Leave now or you’ll get the same as him.” Richard couldn’t believe the men he knew were saying this.

Kahlan came forward, stepping in front of Zedd, the folds of her dress swirling around her legs when she stopped. She held her fists at her sides. “Leave now,” she warned menacingly, “before you come to regret what you have chosen to do.”

The mob of men looked around at each other, some smirking, some making crude comments under their breath, some laughing. Kahlan stood her ground and stared them down. The laughter died out.

“So,” John said with a sneer, “two witches to take care of.” The men cheered and hollered, brandishing their weapons. John’s round, heavyset face smiled defiantly.

Richard stepped slowly and deliberately in front of Kahlan, putting a hand behind as he did so, forcing her and Zedd to step back. He kept his voice calm, friendly. “John. How’s Sara? I haven’t seen you two for a while.” John didn’t answer. Richard surveyed the other faces. “I know many of you, know you to be good men. This isn’t something you want to do.” He looked back at John. “Take your men and go home to your families. Please, John?”

John pointed an axe handle at Zedd. “That old man’s a witch! We’re going to put an end to him.” He pointed at Kahlan. “And her! Unless you want the same, Richard, be on your way!” The mob yelled their agreement. The torches sizzled and popped as they burned, and the air smelled of burning pitch and sweat. When they realized that Richard wasn’t leaving, the rabble started to push forward.

The sword was free in a blink. The men took a step back as the metallic ringing filled the night air. John stood in red-faced anger. The ringing died out, and the only sound was from the burning torches. Grumbling broke out about Richard being in with the witches.