Naked Empire (Sword of Truth 8)
Tom lifted an eyebrow. “Are you sure, Lord Rahl?”
Jennsen swatted him with the back of her hand. “Of course he’s sure. He wouldn’t say it unless he was sure.”
“You heard the lady,” Richard said. “I’m sure.”
The big blond D’Haran smiled with a boyish grin. “All right, then. I swear I will protect her, Lord Rahl.”
Jennsen gestured vaguely back at the men and the town behind her. “Since I’ve been with them, they have come to see that I’m not a witch, and Betty is not a spirit guide—although for a time there I was afraid they might be right about Betty.”
Richard peered down at the goat. Betty cocked her head. “I guess none of us but Betty knew the truth of what Nicholas was up to.” At the sound of her name, Betty’s ears pricked forward and her tail went into a fit of expectant wagging.
Jennsen patted Betty’s round middle. “Now that these people understand that I’m not a witch, but I do share some of their traits, I suggested I might play an important role.” She drew the knife at her belt and held it up, showing Richard the ornate letter “R” engraved on the silver handle. “I suggested that I be the official representative of the House of Rahl—if you approve.”
Richard grinned. “I think that’s an excellent idea.”
“I think that would be wonderful, Jennsen.” Kahlan pointed to the east with her chin. “But don’t wait too long before you get back to Hawton to see Ann and Nathan. They will be a valuable help in insuring that the people here are no longer the prey of the Imperial Order. They will help you.”
Jennsen twisted her fingers together. “But aren’t they going to want to be going with the both of you? Helping you?”
“Ann thinks she should direct Richard’s life,” Kahlan said. “I don’t think some of her directions have been the best thing.” She slipped her arm through Richard’s. “He is the Lord Rahl, now. He needs to do things his way, not theirs.”
“They both feel responsible for us,” Richard explained. “Nathan Rahl is a prophet. Prophecy, because of the way it functions, actually does require balance. The balance to Prophecy is free will. I am the balance. I know those two don’t like it, but I think I need to be free of them—for now, at least.
“But there is more to it. I think it’s more important that they help the people here, first. We already know the uses to which Jagang will put the pristinely ungifted. I think it’s vital that these people here, who are willing to value and protect the freedom they’ve won, are given some guidance in how to do that.
“Ann and Nathan will be able to set up defenses that will help protect the people here. They will also be valuable in teaching you the history that is important for you to know.”
After Richard picked up his pack and slipped his arms through the straps, Owen gripped Richard’s hand. “Thank you, Lord Rahl, for showing me that my life is worth living.”
Marilee stepped forward and hugged him. “Thank you for teaching Owen to be worthy of me.”
Richard laughed. Owen laughed. Cara gave Marilee an approving clap on the back. And then all the men laughed.
Betty pushed in and with a flurry of tail wagging got the point across that she didn’t want to be left out.
Richard knelt down and scratched Betty’s ears. “And you, my friend, from now on I don’t want you letting any Slides using you to spy on people.”
Betty pushed her head against his chest as he scratched her ears, and bleated as if to say she was sorry.
Chapter 67
Alone at last beneath the vast blue sky, the soaring walls of snowcapped mountains, and in among the trees, Richard felt good about being on their way. He would miss Jennsen, but it was only for a time. It would do her good to be on her own, yet among people also discovering how to live their own lives as they learned more about the wider world. He knew he would not trade away all he had learned since he’d left his sheltered life in Hartland. If not for that, he wouldn’t be with Kahlan.
It felt good to walk and stretch his legs. He hitched his bow up higher on his shoulder as they made their way through the dappled sunlight of the hushed forest floor. After being so close to death as well as to losing his ability to see, he found everything more vibrant. The mosses looked more lush, the leaves more shimmery, the towering pines more awe-inspiring.
Kahlan’s eyes seemed more green, her hair softer, her smile warmer.
As much as he at one time had hated the fact that he had been born gifted, he was now relieved to have his gift back. It was part of him, part of who he was, part of what made him the individual he was.
Kahlan had once asked him if he wished she had been born without her Confessor’s power. He had told her that he would never wish that, because he loved her for who she was. There was no way to separate out the parts of a person. That was to deny their individuality. He was no different. His gift was part of who he was. His abilities touched everything he did.
His problem with his gift was of his own making. The magic of the Sword of Truth had helped him understand that by failing him. In so doing, it had revealed his own failure to recognize the truth.
To have it back at his hip, and to know that it was once again in harmony with him and ready to defend him and those he loved, was a comforting feeling—not because he wished to fight, but because he wished to live.
The day was warm and they made good time climbing the rocky trail up into the pass. By the time they reached the crown of the notch through the formidable mountains, it was colder, but without a biting wind it was not unpleasant.
At the top of the pass they stopped to gaze up at the statue of Kaja-Rang, sitting where it had been for thousands of years, all alone, keeping vigil over an empire of those who once could not see evil.
In some ways, the statue’s presence was a monument to failure. Where Kaja-Rang and his people had failed to get these people to see the truth, Richard had succeeded—but not without Kaja-Rang’s help.
Richard put his hands on the cold granite, on the words—Talga Vassternich—that had helped save his life.
“Thank you,” he whispered up at the face of the man staring off toward the Pillars of Creation, where Richard had discovered his sister.
Cara placed her hands over the words, and Richard was surprised to see her look up at the statue and say, “Thank you for helping to save Lord Rahl.”
After they started descending the pass, first crossing the open ledges and then making it down into the dense woods, Richard heard the call of a pewee, the signal he had taught Cara that had served them so well.
“You know,” Cara said as she led them down the rocky ground beside a small stream, “Anson knows a lot about birds.”
Richard stepped carefully among the tangle of cedar roots. “Really.”
“Yes. While you were recovering we spent time talking.” She put a hand against the fibrous bark of the reddish trunk of a cedar to keep her balance. She pulled her long blond braid forward over her shoulder as she started out again, running her hand down the length of the braid.
“He complimented me on my bird whistle,” Cara said.
Richard glanced to Kahlan. She shrugged to let him know that she didn’t have any idea what Cara was getting at.
“I told you that you learned it well,” Richard said.
“I told him that you taught it to me, that it was the call of the short-tailed pine hawk. Anson said that there wasn’t any such bird as a short-tailed pine hawk. He said the call I used as a signal—the call you taught me—was a common wood pewee. Me, a Mord-Sith, using the call of a bird named a pewee. Imagine that.”
They walked in silence for a moment.
“Am I in trouble?” Richard finally asked.
“Oh, yes,” Cara answered.
Richard couldn’t help smiling but he made sure the Mord-Sith didn’t see it, nor did Cara see Kahlan look back over her shoulder with the special smile she gave no other but him.
Kahlan lifted an arm, pointing. “Look.”
> Through the gaps in the crowns of the cedars, against the bright blue sky, they saw a black-tipped race circling high above them, riding the mountain air currents. The races were no longer hunting them. This one was simply looking for its dinner.