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"Being brave does not mean you have to be stupid, Chandalen. You saw what was done here. How long do you think you could fight against an army like that which did this? Even if every one of your men killed fifty, they would hardly notice. You would be like the Jocopo, gone. Every last one of you.

Kahlan jabbed a finger at her own chest. "I am the one who tells them they may not. They do not fear you, but they fear me, and the alliance I represent. There are good people in the Midlands, people who are willing to fight to protect others who are less powerful. The dead here are one of those peoples. They are one that has always backed me when I said no land may attack another to gain land."I head the Council of the Midlands and hold together the lands that would have peace. Under me they would fight any who would make war on others. Yes, I make people afraid, so they will do what I say. But not to have the glory of power. I hold power to keep the people of the Midlands—including the Mud People—free of oppression. These people here have fought before to keep all the people of the Midlands free to live as they wished. They have fought for you, for your rights, though you have never known of the blood they have shed on your behalf."

She clutched her mantle tighter. "You have never before had to fight for them, until Darken Rahl threatened all. I came to the Mud People, with Richard, to seek help. Your ancestors' spirits saw the truth of our struggle, and they helped us so that the Mud People, and all others, could live free. For the first time, Mud people had to shed blood for the Midlands. Your ancestors' spirits saw the truth of this, and they helped us.

"The people of the Midlands owe the Mud People a debt for their sacrifice, but you also owe them.

"Richard With The Temper put his life at risk for your people. He lost loved ones in the struggle, the same as you. He suffered things you could never understand. You could not imagine what was done to him by Darken Rahl before Richard killed him."

Kahlan stood in fury, clouds of her hot breath rising into the cold air.

"I make people afraid of me so you may continue to be blind and stubborn. Richard and I have fought to keep all the people of the Midlands, including the Mud People, from being murdered, as the Jocopo murdered Mud People, even though you would deny us your help, or simple gratitude."

Silence echoed around them.

Chandalen walked slowly to the railing, idly running a finger along its polished surface. She watched each slow cloud of his breath dissipate, to be followed by another. He spoke softly. "You see me as stubborn. I see you, too, as stubborn. Maybe our fathers should have also taught us to see that sometimes people do as they do, not because they are stubborn, but because they fear for those they protect. Maybe you and I should be able to see each other not as harsh, but as doing the best we know, to keep our people safe."

A small smile came unexpectedly to Kahlan's lips. "Perhaps, Chandalen is not so blind as I thought. I will try, myself, to see better, see you for the man of honor you are."

He gave a nod, and a small smile of his own. "Richard With The Temper is not a stupid man." He put his hands to the railing, looking out over the first floor. "He said that if he had to pick one man to fight beside him, he would pick Chandalen."

"You speak the truth," she said softly. "He is not a stupid man."

"Richard also sacrificed himself as your mate. He has saved our men from being chosen, as surely you would have picked one of us, because we are so strong." His voice rose with pride. "You would probably have picked me, so that you might have the strongest mate. Richard has saved me."

Kahlan smiled again in spite of herself as he stared out over the railing. "I am sorry you feel the task of being my mate is so onerous a thing."

Chandalen came back to her. He stood a moment, studying her eyes, and then began untying the band at his right arm. He pulled the band and bone knife free, holding it out before her.

"Grandfather would be proud to protect you, one of his own, one of his Mud People." He flipped her mantle back over her left shoulder.

"Chandalen, I cannot accept this. It holds the spirit of your grandfather."

He ignored her words and tied the band to her left arm. "I have the spirit of my father with me, and I am strong. You fight to protect our People. Grandfather would want to be with you in your fight. You do him an honor."

She held her chin up as he slipped the bone knife into the band. "I am honored, then, to have your grandfather's spirit with me."

"This is good. You have the duty now to fight as my grandfather fought to protect your people. All of your people." He lifted her right hand and placed it on the bone knife. "Swear to carry this duty in your heart."

"I have already sworn to protect the Mud People, and the others of the Midlands. I have already fought and will continue to fight for all of you."

He squeezed her hand tighter to the bone. "Swear to Chandalen."

She studied his grim expression a long moment. "You have my vow, Chandalen. I swear it before you."

He smiled as he pulled her mantle back over her shoulder, over the bone knife. "Chandalen will thank Richard With The Temper, when I see him again, for saving me from being chosen as the mate to the Mother Confessor. I will wish him no bad fortune. He fights, too, for the Mud People, as the Bird Man has told us."

Kahlan bent to pick up his mantle. "Here. Put this back on, I don't want you to freeze. You must still get me to Aydindril."

He nodded, still wearing the small, tight smile, as he threw the mantle over his shoulders. His smile died as he glanced to the doors. "Someone has been her since thi

s was done."

Kahlan frowned. "What makes you think that?"

"Why did you close the doors after you had looked?"

"Out of respect for the dead."

"When we came to them, they were closed. Those who did this rape had no respect. They would not have closed all the doors. They wanted anyone who came to see what they had done. Someone else has been here, and closed the doors."

Kahlan glanced to the doors, seeing the meaning of what he said. "I think you are right." She shook her head. "Those who did this would not have closed the door."

Chandalen leaned on the railing again, looking down at the wide stairs. "Why are we here?"

"Because I had to know what happened to these people."

"You saw that outside. Why are we here, in this house?"

Kahlan glanced at the steps leading up to the top floor. "Because I have to know if the Queen was killed, too."

He looked over his shoulder toward her. "She means something to you."

Kahlan was suddenly aware of the pounding of her heart. "Yes. Do you remember the statues near the door we entered?"

"A woman, and a man."

She nodded. "The statue of the woman is a statue of her mother. My mother was a Confessor. The statue of the man is a statue of her father. King Wyborn. He was also my father."

Chandalen lifted an eyebrow. "You are sister to this Queen?"

"Half sister." Summoning courage, she started for the stairs. "Let's see if she is here, and then we can be on our way to Aydindril."

Kahlan's heart was still pounding as she stood before the door to the Queen's chambers. She couldn't bring herself to open it. It smelled dreadful in the hall, but she hardly noticed.

"Do you wish me to look for you?"


Tags: Terry Goodkind Sword of Truth Fantasy

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"Being brave does not mean you have to be stupid, Chandalen. You saw what was done here. How long do you think you could fight against an army like that which did this? Even if every one of your men killed fifty, they would hardly notice. You would be like the Jocopo, gone. Every last one of you.

Kahlan jabbed a finger at her own chest. "I am the one who tells them they may not. They do not fear you, but they fear me, and the alliance I represent. There are good people in the Midlands, people who are willing to fight to protect others who are less powerful. The dead here are one of those peoples. They are one that has always backed me when I said no land may attack another to gain land."I head the Council of the Midlands and hold together the lands that would have peace. Under me they would fight any who would make war on others. Yes, I make people afraid, so they will do what I say. But not to have the glory of power. I hold power to keep the people of the Midlands—including the Mud People—free of oppression. These people here have fought before to keep all the people of the Midlands free to live as they wished. They have fought for you, for your rights, though you have never known of the blood they have shed on your behalf."

She clutched her mantle tighter. "You have never before had to fight for them, until Darken Rahl threatened all. I came to the Mud People, with Richard, to seek help. Your ancestors' spirits saw the truth of our struggle, and they helped us so that the Mud People, and all others, could live free. For the first time, Mud people had to shed blood for the Midlands. Your ancestors' spirits saw the truth of this, and they helped us.

"The people of the Midlands owe the Mud People a debt for their sacrifice, but you also owe them.

"Richard With The Temper put his life at risk for your people. He lost loved ones in the struggle, the same as you. He suffered things you could never understand. You could not imagine what was done to him by Darken Rahl before Richard killed him."

Kahlan stood in fury, clouds of her hot breath rising into the cold air.

"I make people afraid of me so you may continue to be blind and stubborn. Richard and I have fought to keep all the people of the Midlands, including the Mud People, from being murdered, as the Jocopo murdered Mud People, even though you would deny us your help, or simple gratitude."

Silence echoed around them.

Chandalen walked slowly to the railing, idly running a finger along its polished surface. She watched each slow cloud of his breath dissipate, to be followed by another. He spoke softly. "You see me as stubborn. I see you, too, as stubborn. Maybe our fathers should have also taught us to see that sometimes people do as they do, not because they are stubborn, but because they fear for those they protect. Maybe you and I should be able to see each other not as harsh, but as doing the best we know, to keep our people safe."

A small smile came unexpectedly to Kahlan's lips. "Perhaps, Chandalen is not so blind as I thought. I will try, myself, to see better, see you for the man of honor you are."

He gave a nod, and a small smile of his own. "Richard With The Temper is not a stupid man." He put his hands to the railing, looking out over the first floor. "He said that if he had to pick one man to fight beside him, he would pick Chandalen."

"You speak the truth," she said softly. "He is not a stupid man."

"Richard also sacrificed himself as your mate. He has saved our men from being chosen, as surely you would have picked one of us, because we are so strong." His voice rose with pride. "You would probably have picked me, so that you might have the strongest mate. Richard has saved me."

Kahlan smiled again in spite of herself as he stared out over the railing. "I am sorry you feel the task of being my mate is so onerous a thing."

Chandalen came back to her. He stood a moment, studying her eyes, and then began untying the band at his right arm. He pulled the band and bone knife free, holding it out before her.

"Grandfather would be proud to protect you, one of his own, one of his Mud People." He flipped her mantle back over her left shoulder.

"Chandalen, I cannot accept this. It holds the spirit of your grandfather."

He ignored her words and tied the band to her left arm. "I have the spirit of my father with me, and I am strong. You fight to protect our People. Grandfather would want to be with you in your fight. You do him an honor."

She held her chin up as he slipped the bone knife into the band. "I am honored, then, to have your grandfather's spirit with me."

"This is good. You have the duty now to fight as my grandfather fought to protect your people. All of your people." He lifted her right hand and placed it on the bone knife. "Swear to carry this duty in your heart."

"I have already sworn to protect the Mud People, and the others of the Midlands. I have already fought and will continue to fight for all of you."

He squeezed her hand tighter to the bone. "Swear to Chandalen."

She studied his grim expression a long moment. "You have my vow, Chandalen. I swear it before you."

He smiled as he pulled her mantle back over her shoulder, over the bone knife. "Chandalen will thank Richard With The Temper, when I see him again, for saving me from being chosen as the mate to the Mother Confessor. I will wish him no bad fortune. He fights, too, for the Mud People, as the Bird Man has told us."

Kahlan bent to pick up his mantle. "Here. Put this back on, I don't want you to freeze. You must still get me to Aydindril."

He nodded, still wearing the small, tight smile, as he threw the mantle over his shoulders. His smile died as he glanced to the doors. "Someone has been her since thi

s was done."

Kahlan frowned. "What makes you think that?"

"Why did you close the doors after you had looked?"

"Out of respect for the dead."

"When we came to them, they were closed. Those who did this rape had no respect. They would not have closed all the doors. They wanted anyone who came to see what they had done. Someone else has been here, and closed the doors."

Kahlan glanced to the doors, seeing the meaning of what he said. "I think you are right." She shook her head. "Those who did this would not have closed the door."

Chandalen leaned on the railing again, looking down at the wide stairs. "Why are we here?"

"Because I had to know what happened to these people."

"You saw that outside. Why are we here, in this house?"

Kahlan glanced at the steps leading up to the top floor. "Because I have to know if the Queen was killed, too."

He looked over his shoulder toward her. "She means something to you."

Kahlan was suddenly aware of the pounding of her heart. "Yes. Do you remember the statues near the door we entered?"

"A woman, and a man."

She nodded. "The statue of the woman is a statue of her mother. My mother was a Confessor. The statue of the man is a statue of her father. King Wyborn. He was also my father."

Chandalen lifted an eyebrow. "You are sister to this Queen?"

"Half sister." Summoning courage, she started for the stairs. "Let's see if she is here, and then we can be on our way to Aydindril."

Kahlan's heart was still pounding as she stood before the door to the Queen's chambers. She couldn't bring herself to open it. It smelled dreadful in the hall, but she hardly noticed.

"Do you wish me to look for you?"


Tags: Terry Goodkind Sword of Truth Fantasy