Naked Empire (Sword of Truth 8)

Richard’s demeanor had changed. His anger seemed to have faded away. He stepped closer to Owen and spoke softly.

“The Bandakaran Empire—why isn’t it known? Why does no one know of your people?”

Owen looked away, toward the east, seeing his distant homeland through wet eyes. “It is said that the ancient ones, the ones who gave us this name, wanted to protect us—because we are a special people. They took us to a place where no one could go, because of the mountains all around. Such mountains as only the Creator could impose to close off the land beyond, so that we are protected.”

“Except that one place”—Richard gestured east—“that notch in the mountain range, that pass.”

“Yes,” Owen admitted, still staring off toward his homeland. “That was how we entered the land beyond, our land, but others could enter there as well; it was the one place where we were vulnerable. You see, we are an enlightened people who have risen above violence, but the world is still full of savage races. So, those ancient people, who wanted our advanced culture to survive, to thrive without the brutality of the rest of the world…they sealed the pass.”

“And your people have been isolated for all this time—for thousands of years.”

“Yes. We have a perfect land, a place of an advanced culture that is undisturbed by the violence of the people out here.”

“How was the pass, the notch in the mountains, how was it sealed?”

Owen looked at Richard, somewhat startled by the question. He thought it over a moment. “Well…the pass was sealed. It was a place that no one could enter.”

“Because they would die if they entered this boundary.”

With an icy wave of understanding, Kahlan suddenly understood what composed the seal to this empire.

“Well, yes,” Owen stammered. “But it had to be that way to keep outsiders from invading our empire. We reject violence unconditionally. It’s unenlightened behavior. Violence only invites ever more violence, spiraling into a cycle of violence with no end.” He fidgeted with the worry of such a trap catching them up in the allure of its wicked spell. “We are an advanced race, above the violence of our ancestors. We have grown beyond. But without the boundary that seals that pass and until the rest of the world rejects violence as we have, our people could be the prey of unenlightened savages.”

“And now, that seal is broken.”

Owen stared at the ground, swallowing before he spoke. “Yes.”

“How long ago did the boundary fail?”

“We aren’t sure. It is a dangerous place. No one lives near it, so we can’t be positive, but we believe it was close to two years ago.”

Kahlan felt the dizzying burden of confirmation of her fears.

When Owen looked up, he was a picture of misery. “Our empire is now naked to unenlightened savages.”

“Sometime after the boundary came down, the Imperial Order came in through the pass.”

“Yes.”

“The land beyond those snowcapped mountains, the Empire of Bandakar, is where the black-tipped races are from, isn’t it?” Richard said.

Owen looked up, surprised that Richard knew this. “Yes. Those awful creatures, innocent though they are of malice, prey on the people of my homeland. We must stay indoors at night, when they hunt. Even so, people, especially children, are sometimes surprised and caught by those fearsome creatures—”

“Why don’t you kill them?” Cara asked, indignantly. “Fight them off? Shoot them with arrows? Dear spirits, why don’t you bash their heads in with a rock if you have to?”

Owen looked shocked by the very suggestion. “I told you, we are above violence. It would be even more wrong to commit violence on such innocent creatures. It is our duty to preserve them, since it is we who entered into their domain. We are the ones who bear the guilt because we entice them into such behavior which is only natural to them. We preserve virtue only by embracing every aspect of the world without the prejudice of our flawed human views.”

Richard gave Cara a stealthy gesture to be quiet. “Was everyone in the empire peaceful?” he asked, pulling Owen’s attention away from Cara.

“Yes.”

“Weren’t there occasionally those who…I don’t know, misbehaved? Children, for example. Where I come from, children can sometimes become rowdy. Children where you come from must sometimes become rowdy, too.”

Owen shrugged a bit with one shoulder. “Well, yes, I guess so. There were times when children misbehave and become unruly.”

“And what do you do with such children?”

Owen cleared his throat, plainly uncomfortable. “Well, they are…put out of their home for a time.”

“Put out of their home for a time,” Richard repeated. He lifted his arms in a questioning shrug. “The children I know will usually be happy to be put outside. They simply go play.”

Owen shook his head emphatically at the serious nature of the matter. “We are different. From the time we are born, we are together with others. We are all very close. We depend on one another. We cherish one another. We spend all our waking hours with others. We cook and wash and work together. We sleep in a sleeping house, together. Ours is an enlightened life of human contact, human closeness. There is no higher value than being together.”

“So,” Richard asked, feigning a puzzled look, “when one of you—a child—is put out, that is a cause of unhappiness?”

Owen swallowed as a tear ran down his cheek. “There could be nothing worse. To be put out, to be closed off from others, is the worst horror we can endure. To be forced out into the cold cruelty of the world is a nightmare.”

Just talking about such a punishment, thinking about it, was making Owen start to tremble.

“And that’s when, sometimes, the races get such children,” Richard said in a compassionate tone. “When they’re alone and vulnerable.”

With the back of his hand Owen wiped the tear from his cheek. “When a child must be put out to be punished, we take all possible precautions. We never put them out at night because that is when the races usually hunt. Children are put out for punishment only in the day. But when we are away from others, we are vulnerable to all the terrors and cruelties of the world. To be alone is a nightmare.

“We would do anything to avoid such punishment. Any child who misbehaves and is put out for a while will not likely misbehave again anytime soon. There is no greater joy than to finally be welcomed back in with our friends and family.”

“So, for your people, banishment is the greatest punishment.”

Owen stared into the distance. “Of course.”

“Where I come from, we all got along pretty well, too. We enjoyed each other’s company and had great fun when many people would gather. We valued our times together. When we’re away for a time, we inquire about all the people we know and haven’t seen in a while.”

Owen smiled expectantly. “Then you understand.”

Richard nodded, returning the smile. “But occasionally there will be someone who won’t behave, even when they’re an adult. We try everything we can, but, sometimes, someone does something wrong—something they know is wrong. They might lie or steal. Even worse, at times someone will deliberately hurt another person—beat someone when robbing them, or rape a woman, or even murder someone.”

Owen wouldn’t look up at Richard. He stared at the ground.

As he spoke, Richard paced slowly before the man. “When someone does something like that where you come from, Owen, what do your people do? How do an enlightened people handle such horrible crimes some of your people commit against others?”

“We attack the root cause of such behavior from the beginning,” Owen was quick to answer. “We share all we have to make sure that everyone has what they need so that they don’t have to steal. People steal because they feel the hurt of others acting superior. We show these people that we are no better than they and so they need not harbor such fears of others. We teach them to be enlightened and rejec

t all such behavior.”

Richard shrugged nonchalantly. Kahlan would have thought that he would be ready to strangle the answers out of Owen, but, instead, he was behaving in a calm, understanding manner. She had seen him act this way before. He was the Seeker of Truth, rightfully named by the First Wizard himself. Richard was doing what Seekers did: find the truth. Sometimes he used his sword, sometimes words.