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“You know, I’m having a hard time deciding which one of these fine young women to pick,” Richard said after he swallowed the first bite. “Do you think you could help me, Kahlan? Which one should I choose? What do you think?”

Struggling to slow her breathing, she looked over at his grinning face. “You are right, it is a difficult choice. I think I would rather leave it to you.”

He ate some more meat as she clenched her teeth and swallowed hard.

“This is kind of strange, I’ve never had anything like it before.” He paused, his voice changed. “What is it?” The question had an edge to it that frightened her, almost made her jump. He had a threatening, hard look in his eyes. She hadn’t intended to tell him, but the way he looked at her made her forget that pledge.

She asked the Bird Man, then turned back to him. “He says it is a firefighter.”

“A firefighter.” Richard leaned forward. “What kind of animal is a firefighter?”

Kahlan looked into his piercing gray eyes. In a soft voice she answered, “One of Darken Rahl’s men.”

“I see.” He leaned back.

He knew. She realized he had known before he asked her the question. He wanted to see if she would lie to him.

“Who are these firefighters?”

She asked the elders how they had come to know about the firefighters. Savidlin was only too eager to tell the story. When he finished, she turned back to Richard.

“Firefighters are enforcers who travel the country to bring Rahl’s decree that people are not allowed to use fire. They can be quite brutal in their task. Savidlin says two of them came here a few weeks back, told them fire was outlawed, and then threatened them when the Mud People wouldn’t agree to follow the new law. They feared the two would go back and bring more men. So they killed them. The Mud People believe they can gain their enemies’ wisdom by eating them. To be a man among the Mud People, to be one of them, you must eat it also, so you will have the knowledge of their enemies. It is the main purpose of banquets. That, and to call the ancestors’ spirits.”

“And have I eaten enough of it to satisfy the elders?” The expression in his eyes cut through her.

She wished she could run away. “Yes.”

With deliberate care, Richard laid down the piece of flesh. The smile returned to his lips, and he looked to the four young women as he spoke to her, wrapping his arms around the two closest to him.

“Kahlan, do me a favor. Go and get me an apple out of my pack. I feel like I need something familiar to clear this taste out of my mouth.”

“Your legs work,” she snapped.

“Yes, but I need to devote some time to deciding which one of these beautiful young women I will lie with.”

Rising to her feet, she shot the Bird Man a furious glare, and then stormed off toward Savidlin’s house. She was glad to be away from Richard, to be away from watching those girls pawing him.

Her fingernails dug into her palms, but she didn’t notice as she marched past the happy people. The dancers danced, the drummers drummed, the children laughed. People she passed wished her well. She wanted one of them to say something mean so she would have an excuse to hit someone.

When she reached Savidlin’s house, she went inside and flopped down on the skin that covered the floor, trying unsuccessfully to keep from crying. Just a few minutes, she told herself, that was all she needed to bring herself back under control. Richard was doing what the Mud People demanded, what she herself had promised the Bird Man he would do. She had no right to be angry, none at all; Richard was not hers. She cried with deep pain. She had no right to feel this way, no right to be angry with him. But she was; she was furious.

She remembered what she had told the Bird Man—trouble of her own making, with consequences she must bear, and feared greatly.

Richard was just doing what was necessary to get a gathering, what was necessary to find the box and stop Rahl. Kahlan wiped the tears from her eyes.

But he didn’t have to be so delighted about it. He could do it without acting like…

She snatched an apple from his pack. What did it matter. She couldn’t change the way things were. But she didn’t have to be happy about it. She bit her lip as she stomped out the door, trying to make her face once again show nothing. At least it was dark.

When she had crossed the gauntlet of celebration, she found Richard with his shirt off. The girls were painting him with Mud People symbols of the hunter. Their fingers were applying the black and white mud in jagged lines across his chest, in rings around his upper arms. They stopped when she stood over them, glaring down.

“Here.” She slapped the apple in his hand and sat down in a huff.

“I still haven’t been able to decide,” he said, polishing the apple on his pants leg, looking from one girl to another. “Kahlan, are you sure you don’t have a preference? I could use your help.” His voice lowered meaningfully, the hard edge returning. “I’m surprised you didn’t just pick one for me in the first place.”

Stunned, her eyes came up to his. He knew. He knew this, too, was a commitment she had made on his behalf. “No. Whatever you decide will be fine, I’m sure.” She looked away again.

“Kahlan,” he asked, waiting until she turned back to him, “are any of these girls related to the elders?”

She looked again at their faces. “The one at your right arm. The Bird Man is her uncle.”

“Uncle!” His smile widened as he continued to polish the apple on his leg. “Well, then, I guess I’ll pick her. It will be a sign of respect for the elders, that I pick the Bird Man’s niece.”

He took the girl’s head in both of his hands, kissing her on the forehead. She beamed. The Bird Man beamed. The elders beamed. The other girls left.

Kahlan glanced back at the Bird Man, and he gave her a look of sympathy, a look that said he was sorry. She turned, staring absently, painfully, out into the night. So now Richard had picked. So now, she thought bleakly, the elders would perform a ceremony and the happy couple would be going off somewhere to make a baby. She watched the other couples walking, hand in hand, happy to be together. Kahlan swallowed back the lump, the tears. She heard the snap as Richard bit into his stupid, stupid apple.

And then she heard a collective gasp from the elders and their wives, then shouts.

The apple! In the Midlands, red fruit was poison! They didn’t know what an apple was! They thought Richard was eating poison! She spun around.

Richard was holding his arm back to the elders, commanding silence, and for them to stay put. But he was looking right into her eyes.

“Tell them to sit down,” he said in a quiet voice.

Wide-eyed, she looked back at the elders and told them what Richard had said. They lowered themselves uncertainly back in place. He leaned back, turning casually to them, an innocent expression on his face.

“You know, back in Hartland, in Westland, where I am from, we eat these things all the time.” He took a couple more bites. Their eyes were wide. “Have for as long as anyone knows. Men and women both eat them. We have healthy children.” He snapped off another piece, turning and watching her as she translated. He chewed slowly, prolonging the tension. He looked over his shoulder at the Bird Man. “’Course, it could be that it makes a man’s seed poison to any woman other than one of our own. Never been put to the test, far as I know.”

He let his gaze settle back on Kahlan as he took another bite, letting his words sink in after she translated. The girl next to him was getting nervous. The elders were getting nervous. The Bird Man showed no emotion. Richard had his arms half folded, one elbow resting in his other hand, so he could hold the apple near his mouth, where everyone could see it. He started to take a bite, then stopped, thinking to offer a bite to the Bird Man’s niece. She turned her head away. He looked back at the elders.

“I find them quite good. Really.” He shrugged. “But then, there is the thing about them maybe making my seed poison. But I don’t want you t

o think I’m not willing to try. I just thought you should know, that’s all. I wouldn’t want it to be said I wasn’t willing to go along with the duties that go with becoming a Mud Person. I am. More than willing.” He ran the back of his finger down the girl’s cheek. “I assure you, it would be an honor. This fine young woman will make a splendid mother for my child, I am sure.” Richard let out a sigh. “If she lives, of course.” He took another bite.

The elders looked apprehensively from one to another. None spoke. The mood on the platform had definitely changed. They were no longer in control; Richard was. It had happened in a blink. They were now afraid to move much more than their eyes. Without looking at them, Richard went on.

“’Course, it’s up to you. I’m willing to give it a try, but I thought you should know of the ways of my homeland. I didn’t think it would be fair not to tell you.” Now Richard turned to them, his eyebrows set in a menacing frown, his voice carrying a thread of threat. “So, if the elders, in their wisdom, wish to ask me not to perform this duty, I will understand, and with regret, comply with their wishes.”

He held them in his hard gaze. Savidlin grinned. The other five were of no mind to challenge Richard, and turned to the Bird Man beseeching direction. He sat still, a bead of sweat rolling down the leathery skin of his neck, silver hair limp on the buckskin shoulders of his tunic, holding Richard’s gaze for a short time. His mouth turned up in a small smile that showed in his eyes, too, and he nodded slightly to himself.

“Richard With The Temper,” his voice was even, and strong, for not only the elders, but also the crowd that had gathered around the platform, were listening, “since you are from a different land, and your seed could be poisonous to this young woman…” he lifted one eyebrow, leaning the slightest bit forward, “…my niece,” he looked to her, then back to Richard, “we beg that you not hold us to this tradition; that you not take her as your wife. I am sorry to have to ask this of you. I know you were looking forward to giving us your child.”

Richard nodded seriously. “Yes, I was. But I will just have to live with my failing, and try to make the Mud People, my people, proud of me in other ways.” He was closing the deal with a condition of his own: they were not going to be allowed to back out now; he was a Mud Person and this would not change it.

There was a collective sigh of relief from the other elders. They all nodded, only too happy to have the matter settled to his liking. The young woman smiled with relief at her uncle and left. Richard turned to Kahlan; his face showed no emotion.


Tags: Terry Goodkind Sword of Truth Fantasy