Faith of the Fallen (Sword of Truth 6)

“That’s what Verna thought, too. About it falling from her belt, I mean.” Warren chuckled. “Or a cat could even have eaten it.”

From beneath a furrowed brow, Zedd peered at Warren. “A cat? What cat?”

“Any cat.” Warren cleared his throat. “I just meant…oh, never mind. I never was any good at jokes.”

Zedd’s knotted brow lifted. “Oh, I see. A cat could have eaten it. Yes, yes, I see.” He didn’t, but Zedd forced a chuckle for the boy’s sake. “Very good, Warren.”

“Anyway, she probably lost it. It’s probably something as simple as that.”

“If that’s the case,” Zedd reasoned, “she will likely end up coming here to let us know that she’s all right, or at least she will send a letter, or messenger, or something. Ever more likely, though, she probably had nothing to tell us and simply saw no need to bother with sending a message in her journey book.”

Warren made a skeptical face. “But we haven’t had a message from her for nearly a month.”

Zedd waved a hand dismissively. “Well, she was way north, up almost to where Richard and Kahlan are, last we heard. If she did lose the book and started right out to come here from there, she won’t show up for yet another week or two. If she went on to see Richard first, then it will be longer, I imagine. Ann doesn’t travel all that fast, you know.”

“I know,” Warren said. “She is getting up there in years. But that’s just another reason why I’m so worried.”

What really worried Zedd was the way the journey book went silent just as Ann was about to reach Richard and Kahlan. Zedd had been eagerly anticipating hearing that Richard and Kahlan were safe, that Kahlan was all healed. Maybe even that Richard was ready to return. Ann knew how eager they were for word and would certainly have had something to report. Zedd didn’t like the coincidence that the journey book went silent right at that time. He didn’t like it one bit.

The whole thing made him want to scratch as if he’d been bitten by a white mosquito.

“Now look here, Warren, a month isn’t so long not to hear from her. In the past, it’s sometimes been weeks and weeks between her messages. It’s too early to start getting ourselves all worked up with worry. Besides, we have our own concerns which require our attention.”

Zedd didn’t know what they could do even if Ann were in trouble somewhere. They had no idea how to find her.

Warren flashed an apologetic smile. “You’re right, Zedd.”

Zedd moved a map and found a half loaf of bread left from the night before. He took a big bite, giving himself an excuse to chew instead of talk. When he talked, he feared he only let out the true level of his worry not just about Ann, but also about Richard and Kahlan.

Warren was an able wizard, and smarter than just about anyone Zedd had ever met. Zedd often had trouble finding something to talk about that Warren hadn’t already heard of, or was intimately familiar with. There was something refreshing about sharing knowledge with someone who nodded knowingly at esoteric points of magic that no one else would fathom, someone who could fill in little gaps in the odd spell, or delighted at having his own little gaps filled in by what Zedd knew. Warren retained more about prophecy than Zedd thought anyone had a right to know in the first place.

Warren was a fascinating mix of obstinate old man and callow youth. He was at once set in his ways, and at the same time openly, infinitely, innocently, curious.

The one thing that made Warren fall silent, though, was when they discussed Richard’s “vision.” Warren’s face would go blank and he would sit without comment while others argued over what Richard had said in his letters and if there was any validity to it. Whenever Zedd had Warren alone and asked him what he thought, Warren would say only “I follow Richard; he is my friend, and he is the Lord Rahl.” Warren would not debate or discuss Richard’s instructions to the army—or, more specifically, Richard’s refusal to give instructions. Richard had given his orders, as far as Warren was concerned, and they were to be swallowed, not chewed.

Zedd noticed than Warren was twisting his robes again.

Zedd waved his bread. “You look like a wizard with his pants full of itching spells. Do you have something you need to let out, Warren?”

Warren grinned sheepishly. “Am I that obvious?”

Zedd patted the boy on the back. “No, Warren, I’m just that good.”

Warren laughed at Zedd’s joke. Zedd gestured with his bread toward the folding canvas chair. Warren looked behind himself at the chair, but shook his head. Zedd figured it must be important, if Warren felt he needed to stand to say it.

“Zedd, with winter upon us, do you believe the Imperial Order will attack, or wait until spring?”

“Well, now, that’s always a worry. The not knowing leaves your stomach all in knots. But you’ve all worked hard. You’ve all trained and practiced. You’ll do just fine, Warren. The Sisters, too.”

Warren didn’t seem to be interested in hearing what Zedd was saying. He was scratching his temple, waiting his turn to speak.

“Yes, well, thank you, Zedd. We have been working hard.

“Umm, General Leiden thinks winter is our best friend right now. He, his Keltish officers, and some of the D’Harans believe that Jagang would be foolhardy to start a campaign with winter just setting in. Kelton isn’t all that far north of here, so General Leiden is familiar with the difficulty of winter warfare in the terrain we would fall back to. He’s convinced the Order is waiting for spring.”

“General Leiden in a good man, and may be second-in-command, after General Reibisch,” Zedd said in an even voice as he watched Warren’s blue eyes, “but, I don’t agree with him.”

Warren looked crestfallen. “Oh.”

The general had brought his Keltish division down south a couple of months before to reinforce the D’Haran army, at General Reibisch’s request. Regarding Kahlan as their queen, since Richard had named her so, the Keltish forces still had an independent streak, even if they were now part of the “D’Haran Empire,” as everyone had taken to calling it.

Zedd didn’t do anything to discourage such talk; it was better for everyone in the New World to be one mighty force than a collection of tribes. As far as Zedd was concerned, Richard had clearly had the right instincts in that. A war of this scale would have been ungovernable were the New World not one. Having everyone think of themselves as part of the D’Haran Empire first and foremost could only help make it so.

Zedd cleared his throat. “But that’s just a guess, Warren. I could be wrong. General Leiden is an experienced man, and no fool. I could be wrong.”

“But so could Leiden be wrong. I guess that puts you with General Reibisch. He’s been pacing his tent every night for the last two months.”

Zedd shrugged. “Is there something important to you, Warren, that hinges on what the Imperial Order does? Are you waiting for them to make up your mind for you about something?”

Warren held up his hands as if to ward the very notion. “No—no, of course not. It’s just that…it’s just that it would be a bad time to be thinking about such things, is all…. But if they were going to lie low for the winter…” Warren fussed with his sleeve. “That’s all I meant…. If you thought they were going to wait until spring, or something…” His voice trailed off.

“And if they were, then—?”

Warren stared at the ground while he twisted his robes at his stomach into a purple knot. “If you think they might decide to move this winter, then it wouldn’t be right for me—for us—to be thinking about such things.”

Zedd scratched his chin and changed his approach. “Let’s say I believe the Order is going to sit tight for the winter. Then what might you do, in that case?”

Warren threw his hands up. “Zedd will you marry Verna and me?”

Zedd’s brow went up as he drew back his head. “Bags, my boy, that’s a mouthful to swallow first thing in the morning.”

Warren took two big strides closer. “Will you Zedd

? I mean, only if you really think the Order is going to sit down there in Anderith for the winter. If they are, then, well, then it would be, I mean, we might as well—”

“Do you love Verna, Warren?”

“Of course I do!”

“And does Verna love you?”

“Well, of course she does.”

Zedd shrugged. “Then I’ll marry the both of you.”

“You will? Oh, Zedd, that would be wonderful.” Warren turned, reaching one hand toward the tent’s opening, lifting his other back toward Zedd. “Wait. Wait there a moment.”

“Well, I was about to flap my arms and fly to the moon, but if you want me to wait—”

Warren was already out the tent. Zedd heard muffled voices coming from outside. Warren came back in—right on Verna’s heels.

Verna beamed from ear to ear, which Zedd found unsettling in its own way, being so unusual.

“Thank you for offering to marry us, Zedd. Thank you! Warren and I wanted you to do the ceremony. I told him you would do it, but Warren wanted to ask you and give you a chance to say no. I can’t think of anything more meaningful than being wedded by the First Wizard.”

Zedd thought she was a lovely woman. A little fussy about rules and such, at times, but well intentioned. She worked hard. She didn’t shy from some of the things Zedd had asked of her. And, she obviously held Warren in warm regard, as well as respecting him.

“When?” Verna asked. “When do you think would be an appropriate time?”

Zedd screwed up his face. “Do you two think you can wait until I’ve had a proper breakfast?”

They both grinned.