The First Confessor (Sword of Truth 0)

Magda reflexively reached to pull her hair back over her shoulder, but her hair barely brushed her shoulders, now, so there was nothing to pull back. She let the hand drop.

“I’m sorry, Lord Rahl, but with Baraccus lost to us I don’t know what help I can be.”

“You know people in the inner circles of power here at the Keep. You know who would listen. You can talk to the council. You could help convince them to take seriously my warnings. That would be a good start.”

“Talk to the council? The council won’t listen to me.”

“Of course they will. You’re the closest thing they have to the word of Baraccus himself.”

“The word of Baraccus?” Magda shook her head. “I am no longer the wife of the First Wizard, so I no longer have standing with the council, or anywhere else for that matter.” She held out a short strand of hair for him to see. “The men of the council are the ones who cut my hair to make that clearly evident to everyone.”

“Who cares about your hair? Baraccus may be dead, but you’re still the wife to the First Wizard. His passing does not change the fact that you knew him better than anyone, or that you were the one he trusted. He confided in you, I know he did—he told me so himself. He said that because you weren’t gifted you were often the best sounding board he had.”

“Baraccus is dead.” Magda looked away from the man’s blue eyes. “The council will soon replace him. Without Baraccus alive, I no longer have any status. That’s why they cut my hair.

“It’s an age-old custom among the people of the Midlands. The length of a woman’s hair shows the world her standing. It matters for everything here in the Midlands and especially in the Keep. This is the seat of power for the Midlands, so such issues of rank, influence, and power always matter.”

He gestured impatiently. “I know about the custom. It’s absurd. I can understand petty people paying attention to such trivialities when deciding the seating arrangement at a banquet, but beyond that it ceases to be useful. This is a serious issue. What does the length of your hair have to do with matters of life and death?”

“It has everything to do with it, here in the Midlands. I’m no longer worthy of recognition because I was not born noble and my husband, who when he was alive gave me standing, is dead. That means that I’m back to where I was before I was married to him. This isn’t by my choice, it’s just the way it is.”

Lord Rahl closed the distance back to her. “How do you think you came to be the wife of First Wizard Baraccus? Do you think that Baraccus sought out a weak, unimportant wife?”

“Well, I—”

“You became wife to First Wizard Baraccus because you were the only woman who was worthy of being his wife. Are you suggesting that Baraccus, the First Wizard, a war wizard, would want to marry a woman who was weak? He married you because you were a woman of strength.”

“That’s very flattering, Lord Rahl, but I’m afraid that it’s simply not true. I was a nobody when he met me, and with him gone I am once again a nobody.”

He looked genuinely disappointed by her words. The fire seemed to go out of his eyes. His expression sagged.

“You were his wife, so I guess you would know him better than anyone.” He shook his head with great sadness. “I admit to finding myself disillusioned to learn that Baraccus was not the man I had thought him to be, that he was instead nothing more than a rather common fool, like so many other ordinary men.”

“A common fool? What are you talking about?”

He lifted an arm and then let it drop to his side. “He had the wool pulled over my eyes all along. You’ve made me see the unpleasant truth. I always thought him intelligent and strong, but it turns out that Baraccus was simply an ordinary, weak-minded man who like so many would marry even a lowly woman of no standing and no worth simply because she batted her eyes at him.

“You apparently came along in one of his weak moments, stroked his male pride with a bit of feminine flattery, and just that easy, you had yourself a man of standing. It’s clear now that he must have been too insecure to think that a woman of standing would be interested in him, so he was willing to trade the standing you lacked in return for your affections. I guess he wasn’t the man of character I thought he was.

“I can see now that by marrying you he was hiding his lack of confidence with women. It’s clear now that he was ready to settle on the first shapely woman, no matter her standing, who swayed her becoming ass before his weak-minded gaze.”

In a blink, Magda had the point of her knife poised motionless a hairsbreadth from his throat.

“I will not stand here and listen to you insult a righteous man who is not here to defend himself,” she growled.

“Apparently, my old friend Baraccus taught his nobody wife a thing or two about using a weapon.”

“A thing or two,” she confirmed. “Tell those two that if they take another step you will be breathing through something other than that foul mouth of yours.”

She in fact knew far more than a thing or two about using weapons. Baraccus had actually used his gift to aid in teaching her a great deal about weapons. He said that as wife to the First Wizard, she would always be a target. He wanted her to be able to protect herself when he wasn’t around.

“I can’t believe that he ever considered you a friend. I think it’s high time that you were on your way back to your D’Haran Lands. I want you and your little army gone first thing in the morning. Do you understand me?”

A sly smile overcame the man at the point of her knife as he signaled the two men near the doors to stand down. Magda was surprised by his smile, but her anger kept her focused, and kept her knife where it was.

“What’s this? A nobody, a woman not born noble, a woman with short hair, a woman of no standing, who has the nerve to tell me, the Lord Rahl, what I will and will not do? What gives you the right to speak this way to the leader of D’Hara, a man who commands the army outside your room, and guards inside it? How dare you think that you can speak to me in such a manner? Where do you, a woman of no status, a nobody, get the gall to think you have such a right?”

“Such a right?” Magda raged in fury.

But then she saw the twinkle in his eye and realized what he was doing. Her fury faltered. She suddenly felt foolish. She couldn’t keep a shamed smile from overcoming her.

Magda bowed her head in a gesture of exaggerated respect.

“It would seem that the Lord Rahl is not so stupid as some on the council say.”

His grin widened. “Magda, I knew Baraccus long before you met him. I’ve fought beside the man. I knew his character. He would never be attracted to a weak woman. He never cared about the length of your hair or standing when he met you, did he?”

Magda shook her head, remembering the first time she met him. He didn’t even look at her hair. He looked into her eyes and asked her name.

“He cared about your character. He cared who you were. Baraccus was a man of power. He was only attracted to strength and temperament that could complement his. He could have had any woman he wanted—I know because many sought him out and he always turned them away. Yet he chose you. He chose you not because you were weak and common, but because you were rare, and his equal in every way that mattered.”

She smiled again, but this time in appreciation. “Thank you for the kindest words about my husband—and me—that I have ever heard.”

“They are true words, Magda. He chose you because you were worthy of him. He was lucky to have you. I’ll not have you selling my friend’s wife short.”

Her smile turned downhearted. “I don’t think I could begin to tell you how much I miss him, how lost I am without him.”

“I understand. Now, let’s put this nonsense aside; we have urgent matters that must be addressed. With Baraccus gone, you are the only one I can turn to for answers. This is a time for courage and honesty if we are to have a chance.”

Magda finally lifted her chin. “What can I do to help you, Lord Rah

l?”

Chapter 10

“You must speak to the council and let them know of the threat, make them understand how serious it is,” Alric Rahl told her. “With Baraccus dead, it’s up to us, and we’re running out of time.”

“What threat?”