Wizard's First Rule (Sword of Truth 1)

Patrols of soldiers prowled the streets on horseback, their armor glinting in the noonday sun, specks of light in an ocean of noisy people. Richard saw one detachment, red banners with a black wolf’s head flying over them, as they swept through the new streets. Some people cheered, some bowed, but all backed away as the horses passed. The soldiers ignored them, as if they didn’t exist. People who didn’t move out of the way quick enough got a boot to the head.

But none of the people moved out of the way of the soldiers the way they moved out of the way for Kahlan. People backed away from the Mother Confessor the way a pack of dogs backs away from a porcupine.

Her white dress shone in the bright sun. Back straight, head held high, she walked as if she owned the whole city. She kept her eyes straight ahead, and acknowledged no one. She had refused to wear her cloak, saying it wouldn’t be proper, and that she wanted there to be no doubt as to who she was. There was no doubt.

People fell over each other getting out of her way. Everyone bowed in a wave in the wide circle around her as she passed. Hushed whispers carried Kahlan’s title back through the throng. Kahlan didn’t acknowledge the bows.

Zedd, wearing Kahlan’s pack for her, walked at Richard’s side, two paces behind her. Both his and Richard’s eyes swept the crowds. In all the time he had known Zedd, Richard had never seen him wear a pack. To say it looked odd would be an understatement. Richard kept his cloak hooked back behind the Sword of Truth. It raised a few eyebrows, but nothing like the Mother Confessor did.

“Is it like this everywhere she goes?” Richard whispered to Zedd.

“I’m afraid so, my boy.”

Without hesitation, Kahlan walked smoothly over the massive stone bridge to the city gates. Guards at the near end of the bridge fell back out of her way. She ignored them. Richard surveyed everything, in case he needed to find a fast way out.

The two dozen guards at the city gates were obviously under instruction to allow no one to enter. The guards, who had been standing at attention, looked nervously at each other; they hadn’t expected a visit from the Mother Confessor. With a clank of metal against metal, some of them moved back, bumping into each other, and some didn’t, not knowing what to do. Kahlan stopped; she stared ahead at the gates as if she expected them to evaporate out of her way. The guards in front of her pressed their backs against the gates as they looked sideways to their captain.

Zedd stepped around Kahlan, turned to her, bowed deeply, as if to excuse himself for stepping in front of her, then turned to the captain.

“What’s the matter with you? Are you blind, man? Open the gates!”

The captain’s dark eyes shifted between Kahlan and Zedd. “I’m sorry, but no one is to enter. And your name is…”

Zedd’s face turned bright red; Richard had to work at keeping his own face straight. The wizard’s voice was a low hiss. “Are you telling me, Captain, that you were told ‘If the Mother Confessor comes by, don’t let her in’?”

The captain’s eyes looked less sure. “Well… I was ordered… I’m not…”

“Open the gates right now!” Zedd bellowed, fists at his side. “And get a proper escort here this instant!”

The captain almost jumped out of his armor. He yelled orders and men started running at his direction. The gates swung inward. Horses thundered up from behind and came around the little company, forming a rank in front of Kahlan with their banners at the lead. More horsemen formed up behind. Foot soldiers came at a run, falling in beside her, but not too close.

Richard was seeing her world for the first time, the loneliness of it. What had his heart gotten him into? With cold pain, he understood her need for a friend.

“You call this a proper escort?” Zedd roared. “Well, it will have to do.” He turned to Kahlan, bowed deeply. “My apologies, Mother Confessor, for this man’s insolence, and his feeble effort at an escort.”

Her eyes went to Zedd and she gave a slight bow of her head.

Though he knew he had no right, the shape of her in that dress was making Richard sweat.

As best they could, the men in the ranks kept a wary eye to Kahlan, waiting, and when she started forward they stepped in with her. Dust rose around the horses as they started through the gates.

Zedd fell in next to Richard as the procession started moving, leaning toward the captain as he passed. “Count your blessings the Mother Confessor doesn’t know your name, Captain!” he snapped.

Richard saw the captain sag with relief when they moved well past him. Richard smiled to himself. He had wanted to give them a worry, but he had no idea it would be so effective a worry.

There was as much order to the city inside the walls as there was disorder outside its gates. Shops with their wares displayed in windows lined the paved streets radiating out from the fortress castle. The streets lacked the dust and smells of those outside. There were inns that looked to be finer than any Richard had ever seen before, much less stayed in. Some had doormen standing at attention in red uniforms and white gloves. Elaborately carved signs hung above the doors: The Silver Garden Inn, The Collins Inn, The White Stallion, and The Carriage House.

Men in fine, richly colored coats, escorting ladies in elaborate dresses, went about their business with calm grace. One thing that wasn’t different about the people inside the walls was that they, too, bowed deeply when they saw the Mother Confessor approaching. As the sound of the horses’ hooves on the stone, and armor clanking, drew their attention, and they saw Kahlan, they backed away and bowed, although not as quickly. There was no snap in their deference, no sincerity in their submission. There was a wisp of contempt in their eyes. Kahlan ignored them. The people inside the walls also noticed the sword more than those outside had noticed it. Richard saw the men’s eyes glide over it as he passed, saw the women’s cheeks color with disdain.

Women’s hair was still short, but occasionally there was some that touched the shoulders. None longer. That, too, made Kahlan stand out all the more, the way her hair cascaded off her shoulders and partway down her back. There was no woman with hair that even approached it. Richard was glad he hadn’t cut it for her.

One of the horsemen was given orders, and he broke rank in a dead run toward the castle to announce the arrival of the Mother Confessor. As she proceeded, Kahlan wore the calm expression that showed nothing, an expression he was used to seeing on her. He now realized what it was. It was the expression worn by a Confessor.

Before they reached the castle gates, trumpets announced the arrival of the Mother Confessor. The tops of the walls were alive with soldiers: lancers, bowmen, and swordsmen. All stood in ranks, bowed as one when Kahlan was close enough, and stayed bowed until she passed through the iron gates that stood open for her. Inside the gates, soldiers standing at attention lined each side of the road, and bowed in unison as she passed.

Some of the terraces held stone urns that marched off to either side, some of them still holding greenery, or flowers that must have been brought out daily from greenhouses. Broad flat areas displayed hedges trimmed in intricate patterns, even mazes. Closer to the castle walls, hedges were larger, cut to mimic objects, or animals. They extended off to the sides as far as the eye could see.

The walls of the castle soared into the air above them. The complicated stonework left Richard awestruck. He had never been this close to anything man-made that was this huge. Shota’s palace was big, but not this big, and he had never gotten close to it. Towers and turrets, walls and ramps, balconies and niches, all rose high into the air above them. He marveled at what Kahlan had told him, that this was an insignificant kingdom, and wondered at what the castles in the more important lands must be like.

The horsemen had left them at the rampart, and as they were swallowed into the castle the foot soldiers, six abreast with room for another six to each side, marched through the enormous pair of brass-clad doors and fanned out to the sides, leaving the three to walk on—Kahlan in the lead.

The room was immense

. A gleaming sea of black and white marble tiles swept away ahead of them. Polished stone columns, so large it would take ten people holding hands to reach around each, and fluted with spiraling, carved roping, rose in a line to both sides of the room, supporting row upon row of arches at the edge of the ribbed, vaulted center ceiling. Richard felt as little as a bug.

Huge tapestries depicting heroic scenes of vast battles hung on the side walls. He had seen tapestries before; his brother had two. Richard rather favored them, and had always thought they were a grand extravagance. But Michael’s tapestries were to these as a stick drawing in the dirt was to a fine oil painting. Richard hadn’t even known such majestic things as these existed.

Zedd leaned a little closer to him and whispered. “Put your eyes back in your head, and shut your mouth.”

Chagrined, Richard snapped his mouth closed and put his eyes to the front. He leaned close to Zedd, and asked in a low whisper, “Is this the kind of place she is used to?”

“No. The Mother Confessor is used to much better than this.”

Overwhelmed, Richard straightened himself.

Ahead lay a grand stairway. By Richard’s estimation, his entire house would fit, with room to spare, on its central landing. Carved marble railings swooped down each side. Between themselves and the stairs waited a knot of people.

At their front stood Queen Milena, an amply fed woman in layered silks of garish colors. She wore a cape trimmed in rare spotted fox. Her hair was nearly as long as Kahlan’s. At first, Richard couldn’t figure out what she was holding, but when he heard the yapping, he realized it was a small dog.

As they approached, everyone but the Queen dropped to a knee in a deep bow. When they stopped, Richard stared openly; he had never seen a queen before. Zedd gave him a sideways kick. He dropped to one knee and, following Zedd’s example, bowed his head. The only two who did not kneel or bow were Kahlan and the Queen. No sooner was he down than everyone was back up, with him coming to his feet last. Richard guessed that the two women must not have to bow to each other.

The Queen stared at Kahlan, who, with her head held high, didn’t break her calm countenance and didn’t even look at the Queen. No one spoke a word.