Soul of the Fire (Sword of Truth 5)

“Oh,” Richard said, not really listening as he started making a mental list of things they had to weigh. “So, what’s it called, now?”

“Now, it’s Anderith,” she said.

Richard’s head came up. He felt a tingling icy wave ripple up through his thighs. “Anderith? Why? Why is it called Anderith?”

Kahlan’s brow twitched at the look on his face. “It was named after one of their ancient founders. His name was Ander.”

The tingling sensation raced the rest of the way up Richard’s arms and back.

“Ander.” He blinked at her. “Joseph Ander?”

“How do you know that?”

“The wizard called ‘the Mountain’? The one Kolo said they sent to deal with the chimes?” Kahlan nodded. “That was his cognomen—what everyone called him. His real name was Joseph Ander.”

32

Richard felt as if his thoughts were going to war in his head. At the same time that he groped for solutions to the spectral threat, he was assailed by the image of endless enemy soldiers pouring up from the Old World.

“All right,” he said, holding his hand out to stop everyone from talking at once. “All right. Slow down. Let’s just reason this out.”

“The whole world might be dead from the chimes before Jagang can conquer the Midlands,” Kahlan said. “We need to address the chimes above all else—you’re the one who convinced me of that. It’s not just that the world of life might very well need magic to survive, but we need magic to counter Jagang. He would like nothing better than for us to have to battle him by sword alone.

“We must get to Aydindril. As you yourself said, what if Zedd was telling the truth about what we need to do at the Wizard’s Keep—with that bottle? If we fail to carry out our charge, we may aid the chimes in taking over the world of life. If we don’t act soon enough, it may forever be too late.”

“And I need my Agiel to work again,” Cara said with painful impatience, “or I can’t protect you both as I need to. I say we must go to Aydindril and stop the chimes.”

Richard looked from one woman to the other. “Fine. But how are we going to stop the chimes if Zedd’s task is only a fool’s journey to keep us out of his way? What if he’s just worried and wants us out of harm’s way while he tries to deal with the problem himself?

“You know, like a father, when he sees a suspicious stranger approaching, might tell his children to run in the house because he needs them to count the sticks of firewood into the bin.”

Richard watched both their faces sour with frustration. “I mean, it’s a good piece of information that Joseph Ander was the one sent to stop the chimes, and he’s the same one who founded this land of Anderith. Maybe it means something, and maybe Zedd wasn’t aware of it.

“I’m not saying we should go to Anderith. The spirits know I want to get to Aydindril, too. I just want not to overlook something important.” Richard pressed his fingers to his temples. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Then we should go to Aydindril,” Kahlan said. “We know that at least has a chance.”

Richard reasoned it through aloud. “That might be best. After all, what if the Mountain, Joseph Ander, stopped the chimes way in the opposite direction—at the other end of the Midlands—and afterwards, later in life, after the war or something, went on to help establish this land now called Anderith?”

“Right. Then we must get to Aydindril as soon as possible,” Kahlan insisted. “And hope it will stop the chimes.”

“Look,” Richard said, holding up a finger to ask for patience, “I agree, but what are we going to do to stop the chimes if it’s all for naught? If it’s part of Zedd’s trick? Then we have done nothing to stop either threat. We must consider that, too.”

“Lord Rahl,” Cara weighed in, “going to Aydindril would still be of value. Not only could you get your sword and try what Zedd asked of you, but you would also have Kolo’s journal.

“Berdine is there. She can help you with translating it. She would be working on it while we have been gone; she may have already translated more about the chimes. She may have answers sitting there waiting for you to see them. If not, you will have the book and you know what to search for.”

“That’s true,” Richard said. “There are other books at the Keep, too. Kolo said the chimes turned out to be much simpler to counter than they all thought.”

“But they all had Subtractive Magic,” Kahlan pointed out.

Richard did, too, but he knew precious little about using it. The sword was the only thing he really understood.

“Perhaps one of the books in the Wizard’s Keep has the solution to dealing with the chimes,” Cara said, “and maybe it isn’t complicated. Maybe it doesn’t take Subtractive Magic.”

The Mord-Sith folded her arms with obvious distaste at the thought of magic. “Maybe you can stir your finger in the air and proclaim them gone.”

“Yes, you are a magic man,” Du Chaillu offered, not realizing Cara had been exercising her sarcastic wit. “You could do that.”

“You give me more credit than I deserve,” he said to Du Chaillu.

“It still sounds like our only real option is to go to Aydindril,” Kahlan said.

Unsure, Richard shook his head. He wished it weren’t so hard to decide the right thing to do. He was balanced on a divide, leaning first one way, and then the other. He wished he had some other bit of information that would tip the balance.

Sometimes he just wished he could scream that he was only a woods guide, and didn’t know what to do, and have someone who did step in and make everything look simple.

Sometimes he felt like an impostor in his role as Lord Rahl, and felt like simply giving up and going home to Westland. Now was one of those times.

He wished Zedd hadn’t lied to him. Lives now hung in the balance because they didn’t know the truth. And because Richard had not used Zedd’s wisdom when he had the chance. If only he had used his head and remembered Du Chaillu.

“Why are you against going to Aydindril?” Kahlan asked.

“I wish I knew,” Richard said. “But we do know where Jagang is going. We need to do something about it. If he conquers the Midlands, we’ll be dead, beyond doing anything about the chimes.”

He started pacing. “What if the chimes aren’t as big a threat as we fear? I mean, in the long run, yes, of course, but what if they take years to bring about the erosion of magic that would cause any real harm? Irreversible harm? For all we know, it could take centuries.”

“Richard, what’s wrong with you? They’re killing people now.” Kahlan gestured back across the grasslands toward the Mud People’s village. “They killed Juni. They killed some of the Baka Tau Mana. We have to do whatever we can to stop them. You’re the one who convinced me of this.”

“Lord Rahl,” Cara said, “I agree with the Mother Confessor. We must go to Aydindril.”

Du Chaillu stood. “May I speak, Caharin?”

Richard looked up from his thoughts. “Yes, of course.”

She was about to do so when she paused with her mouth open. A puzzled expression came over her face. “This man who leads them, this Jagang, he is a magic man?”

“Yes. Well, in a way. He has the ability to enter the minds of people and in that way control them. He’s called a dream walker. He has no other magic, though.”

Du Chaillu considered his words a moment. “An army cannot long persevere without the support of the people of their land. He controls all the people of his land, then, in this way—everyone on his side?”

“No. He can’t do this with everyone at once. He must pick who he will take. Much like a blade master, in a battle, would first pick the most important targets. He picks those with magic and controls them in order to use their magic to his advantage.”

“So, the witches, then, are forced to do his evil. With their magic, they hold his people by their throat?”

“No,” Kahlan said from behind Richard. “The people submit willingly

.”

Du Chaillu looked dubious. “You believe people would choose to allow such a man to be their leader?”

“Tyrants can only rule by the consent of their people.”

“Then they are bad people, too, not just him?”

“They are people like any other,” Kahlan said. “Like hounds at a feast, people gather round the table of tyranny, eager for tasty scraps tossed on the floor. Not everyone will wag their tail for a tyrant, but most will, if he first makes them salivate with hate and gives license to their covetous impulses by making them feel it is only their due. Many would rather take than earn.

“Tyrants make the envious comfortable with their greed.”