Wizard's First Rule (Sword of Truth 1)

Richard’s chest heaved with the burning hurt of his grief at knowing now what had happened to his father, and with that knowledge there was closure, too. Thoughts he had never permitted himself to have became his only desire. Caution and consequence vanished before a flood of lust for vengeance.

In that instant, his only want, his only desire, his only need, was to kill Darken Rahl. Nothing else had any significance.

With his other hand he reached out and seized the hilt of his sword to pull it free. Zedd’s hand clamped down over his. The Seeker’s eyes snapped up, livid at the interference.

“Richard.” Zedd’s voice was gentle. “Calm down.”

The Seeker, his muscles flexing powerfully, glowered into the other’s tranquil eyes. Some part of him, deep in the back of his mind, kept warning him, trying to regain control. He ignored the warning. He bent over the table to the wizard, his teeth gritted.

“I accept the position of Seeker.”

“Richard,” Zedd repeated calmly, “it’s all right. Relax. Sit down.”

The world came rushing back into his mind. He pulled his readiness to kill back a notch, but not his rage. Not only the door, but also the wall that had contained his anger, was gone. Even though the world about him had returned, it was a world seen through different eyes—eyes he had always had, but had been afraid to use: the eyes of a Seeker.

Richard realized that he was standing. He didn’t remember getting up. He sat again next to Kahlan, removing his hands from the sword. Something inside him regained control of his anger. It wasn’t the same as before, though. It didn’t shut it away, didn’t lock it behind a door, but pulled it back, unafraid, to make it ready when needed again.

Some of his old self seeped back into his mind, calming him, slowing his breathing, reasoning within him. He felt liberated, unafraid, unashamed of his temper for the first time. He allowed himself to sit there while he uncoiled, feeling his muscles relax.

He looked up into Zedd’s calm, undisturbed face. The old man, his thatch of white hair framing an angular face set in a perceptive cast, studied him, assessed him with the slightest hint of a smile fixed at the corners of his thin mouth.

“Congratulations,” the wizard said. “You have passed my final test to become Seeker.”

Richard pulled back in confusion. “What do you mean? You already appointed me Seeker.”

Zedd shook his head slowly. “I told you before. Weren’t you listening? A Seeker appoints himself. Before you could become Seeker you had to pass one determinative test. You had to show me you could use all your mind. For many years, Richard, you have kept part of it locked away. Your anger. I had to know you could release it, call upon it. I’ve seen you angry, but you were unable to admit your anger to yourself. A Seeker who couldn’t allow himself to use his anger would be hopelessly weak. It is the strength of rage that gives the heedless drive to prevail. Without the anger, you would have turned down the sword, and I would have let you, because you wouldn’t have had what was required. But that is irrelevant now. You have proven you are no longer a prisoner to your fears. Be cautioned, though. As important as it is to be able to use your rage, it is equally important to be able to restrain it. You have always had that ability. Don’t let yourself lose it now. You must be wise enough to know which path to choose. Sometimes letting out the anger is an even more grievous mistake than holding it in.”

Richard nodded solemnly. He thought about the way it felt to hold the sword when he was in the rage, the way he felt its power, the liberating sensation of giving himself over to the primal urge, from within himself, and from the sword.

“The sword has magic,” he said guardedly. “I felt it.”

“It does. But Richard, magic is only a tool, like any other. When you use a whetstone to sharpen a knife, you are simply making the knife work better for its intended purpose. Same way with the magic. It’s just a honing of the intent.” Zedd’s eyes were clear and sharp. “Some people are more terrified to die by magic than, say, by a blade, as if somehow one is less dead if killed by a blow or cut than if killed by the unseen. But listen well. Dead is dead. The fear of the magic, though, can be a powerful weapon. Keep that in mind.”

Richard nodded. The late-afternoon sun warmed his face and out of the corner of his eye he could see the cloud. Rahl would be watching it, too. Richard remembered the man from the quad, on Blunt Cliff, how he had pulled his sword across his arm, drawing blood before he attacked. He remembered the look in the man’s eyes. He hadn’t understood it at the time; he understood it now. Richard hungered for the fight.

The leaves of the nearby trees fluttered in the light autumn wind, glimmering with their first touches of gold and red. Winter was coming; the first day of winter would soon be here. He thought about how he would get them across the boundary. They had to get one of the boxes of Orden, and when they found it, they would find Rahl.

“Zedd, no more games. I am Seeker now, no more tests. True?”

“True as toasted toads.”

“Then we are wasting our time. I am sure Rahl is not wasting his.” He turned to Kahlan. “I hold you to your pledge to be my guide when we reach the Midlands.”

She smiled at his impatience and nodded. Richard turned to Zedd.

“Show me how the magic works, wizard.”

10

Zedd’s impish smile spread across his face. He handed Richard the baldric. The finely tooled leather was old and supple. The gold and silver buckle matched the scabbard. It was adjusted too small, its last user having been smaller than Richard. Zedd helped readjust it as Richard strapped it across his right shoulder, and fit the Sword of Truth to it.

Zedd led them to the edge of the grass, amid long shadows stretching from the nearby trees, to where two small rock maples grew, one as thick as Richard’s wrist, the other as thin as Kahlan’s.

He turned to Richard. “Draw the sword.” The unique ringing, metallic sound filled the late-afternoon air as the sword came free. Zedd leaned closer. “Now, I will show you the most important thing about the sword, but to do so I need you to briefly abdicate your post as Seeker, and allow me to name Kahlan Seeker.”

Kahlan gave Zedd a suspicious glare. “I don’t want to be Seeker.”

“Just for the purpose of demonstration, dear one.” He motioned for Richard to give her the sword. She hesitated before taking it in both hands. The weight was uncomfortable, and she allowed the point to lower until it rested on the grassy ground. Zedd waved his hands over her head with a flourish. “Kahlan Amnell, I name you Seeker.” She continued to give him the same suspicious stare. Zedd put his finger under her chin, tilting her head up. His eyes had a fierce intensity. He put his face close to hers, speaking in a low voice.

“When I left the Midlands with this sword, Darken Rahl used his magic to place the larger of these two trees here, to mark me, to be able to come for me at a time of his choosing. So he could kill me. The same Darken Rahl who had Dennee killed.” Her countenance became darker. “The same Darken Rahl who hunts you, to kill you like he killed your sister.” Hate flared in her eyes. Her teeth clenched, making the muscles in her strong jaw line stand out. The Sword of Truth rose from the ground. Zedd stepped behind her. “This tree is his. You must stop him.”

The blade flashed through the autumn air with speed and power Richard could scarcely believe. The arc of its sweep went through the larger tree with a loud crack, like a thousand twigs snapping at once. Splinters flew everywhere. The tree seemed to hang in the air a moment, then dropped down next to the ragged stump before toppling over with a crash. Richard knew it would have taken him at least ten blows with a good axe to have felled the maple.

Zedd slipped the sword from Kahlan’s hands as she sank to her knees and rocked back on her heels, putting her hands over her face with a moan. Instantly, Richard crouched at her side, steadying her.

“Kahlan, what’s wrong?”

“I’m all right.” She laid a hand on his shoulder as he helped her

to her feet. Her face was pale as she forced a small smile. “But I resign my post as Seeker.”