Faith of the fallen

Faith of the Fallen Sword of Truth 06 Terry Goodkind Chapter She didn’t remember dying With an obscure sense of apprehension, she wondered if the distant angry voices drifting in to her meant she was again about to experience that transcendent ending: death There was absolutely nothing she could about it if she was While she didn’t remember dying, she dimly recalled, at some later point, solemn whispers saying that she had, saying that death had taken her, but that he had pressed his mouth over hers and filled her stilled lungs with his breath, his life, and in so doing had rekindled hers She had had no idea who it was that spoke of such an inconceivable feat, or who “he” was That first night, when she had perceived the distant, disembodied voices as little more than a vague notion, she had grasped that there were people around her who didn’t believe, even though she was again living, that she would remain alive through the rest of the night But now she knew she had; she had remained alive many more nights, perhaps in answer to desperate prayers and earnest oaths whispered over her that first night But if she didn’t remember the dying, she remembered the pain before passing into that great oblivion The pain, she never forgot She remembered fighting alone and savagely against all those men, men baring their teeth like a pack of wild hounds with a hare She remembered the rain of brutal blows driving her to the ground, heavy boots slamming into her once she was there, and the sharp snap of bones She remembered the blood, so much blood, on their fists, on their boots She remembered the searing terror of having no breath to gasp at the agony, no breath to cry out against the crushing weight of hurt Sometime after-whether hours or days, she didn’t know-when she was lying under clean sheets in an unfamiliar bed and had looked up into his gray eyes, she knew that, for some, the world reserved pain worse than she had suffered She didn’t know his name The profound anguish so apparent in his eyes told her beyond doubt that she should have More than her own name, more than life itself, she knew she should have known his name, but she didn’t Nothing had ever shamed her more Thereafter, whenever her own eyes were closed, she saw his, saw not only the helpless suffering in them but also the light of such fierce hope as could only be kindled by righteous love Somewhere, even in the worst of the darkness blanketing her mind, she refused to let the light in his eyes be extinguished by her failure to will herself to live At some point, she remembered his name Most of the time, she remembered it Sometimes, she didn’t Sometimes, when pain smothered her, she forgot even her own name Now, as Kahlan heard men growling his name, she knew it, she knew him With tenacious resolution she clung to that name-Richard-and to her memory of hint, of who he was, of everything he meant to her Even later, when people had feared she would yet die, she knew she would live.She had to, for Richard, her husband For the child she carried in her womb His child Their child The sounds of angry men calling Richard by name at last tugged Kahlan’s eyes open She squinted against the agony that had been tempered, if not banished, while in the cocoon of sleep She was greeted by a blush of amber light filling the small room around her Since the light wasn’t bright, she reasoned that there must be a covering over a window muting the sunlight, or maybe it was dusk Whenever she woke, as now, she not only had no sense of time, but no sense of how long she had been asleep She worked her tongue against the pasty dryness in her mouth Her body felt leaden with the thick, lingering slumber She was as nauseated as the time when she was little and had eaten three candy green apples before a boat journey on a hot, windy day It was hot like that now: summer hot She struggled to rouse herself fully, but her awaking awareness seemed adrift, bobbing in a vast shadowy sea Her stomach roiled She suddenly had to put all her mental effort into not throwing up She knew all too well that in her present condition, few things hurt more than vomiting Her eyelids sagged closed again, and she foundered to a place darker yet She caught herself, forced her thoughts to the surface, and willed her eyes open again She remembered: they gave her herbs to dull the pain and to help her sleep Richard knew a good deal about herbs At least the herbs helped her, drift into stuporous sleep The pain, if not as sharp, still found her there Slowly, carefully, so as not to twist what felt like double-edged daggers skewered here and there between her ribs, she drew a deeper breath The fragrance of balsam and pine filled her lungs, helping to settle her stomach It was not the aroma of trees among other smells in the forest, among damp dirt and toadstools and cinnamon ferns, but the redolence of trees freshly felled and limbed She concentrated on focusing her sight and saw beyond the foot of the bed a wall of pale, newly peeled timber, here and there oozing sap from fresh axe cuts The wood looked to have been split and hewn in haste, yet its tight fit betrayed a precision only knowledge and experience could bestow The room was tiny; in the Confessors’ Palace, where she had grown up, a room this small would not have qualified as a closet for linens Moreover, it would have been stone, if not marble She liked the tiny wooden room; she expected that Richard had built it to protect her It felt almost like his sheltering arms around her Marble, with its aloof dignity, never comforted her in that way Beyond the foot of the bed, she spotted a carving of a bird in flight It had been sculpted with a few sure strokes of a knife into a log of the wall on a flat spot only a little bigger than her hand Richard had given her something to look at On occasion, sitting around a campfire, she had watched him casually carve a face or an animal from a scrap of wood The bird, soaring on wings spread wide as it watched over her, conveyed a sense of freedom Turning her eyes to the right, she saw a brown wool blanket hanging over the doorway From beyond the doorway came fragments of angry, threatening voices “It’s not by our choice, Richard We have our own families to think about Wives and Children.” Wanting to know what was going on, Kahlan tried to push herself up onto her left elbow Somehow, her arm didn’t work the way she had expected it to Like a bolt of lightning, pain blasted up the marrow of her bone and exploded through her shoulder Gasping against the racking agony of attempted movement, she dropped back before she had managed to lift her shoulder an inch off the bed Her panting twisted the daggers piercing her sides She had to will herself to slow her breathing in order to get the stabbing pain under control As the worst of the torment in her arm and the stitches in her ribs eased, she finally let out a soft moan With calculated calm, she gazed down the length of her left arm The arm was spitted As soon as she saw it, she remembered that of course it was She reproached herself for not thinking of it before she had tried to put weight on it The herbs, she knew, were making her thinking fuzzy Fearing to make another careless movement, and since she couldn’t sit up, she focused her effort on forcing clarity into her mind She cautiously reached up with her right hand and wiped her fingers across the bloom of sweat on her brow, sweat sown by the flash of pain Her right shoulder socket hurt, but it worked well enough She was pleased by that triumph, at least She touched her puffy eyes, understanding then why it had hurt to look toward the door Gingerly, her fingers explored a foreign landscape of swollen flesh Her imagination colored it a ghastly black-andblue When her fingers brushed cuts on her cheek, hot embers seemed to sear raw, exposed nerves She needed no mirror to know she was a terrible sight She knew, too, how bad it was whenever she looked up into Richard’s eyes She wished she could look good for him if for no other reason than to lift the suffering from his eyes Reading her thoughts, he would say, “I’m fine Stop worrying about me and put your mind to getting better.” With a bittersweet longing, Kahlan recalled lying with Richard, their limbs tangled in delicious exhaustion, his skin hot against hers, his big hand resting on her belly as they caught their breath It was agony wanting to hold him in her arms again and being unable to so She reminded herself that it was only a matter of some time and some healing They were together and that was what mattered His mere presence was a restorative She heard Richard, beyond the blanket over the door, speaking in a tightly controlled voice, stressing his words as if each had cost him a fortune “We just need some time ” The men’s voices were heated and insistent as they all began talking at once “It’s not because we want you to, you should know that, Richard, you know us What if it brings trouble here? We’ve heard about the fighting You said yourself she’s from theMidlands We can’t allow we won’t ” Kahlan listened, expecting the sound of his sword being drawn Richard had nearly infinite patience, but little tolerance Cara, his bodyguard, their friend, was no doubt out there, too; Cara had neither patience nor tolerance Instead of drawing his sword, Richard said, “I’m not asking anyone to give Me anything I want only to be left alone in a peaceful place where I can care for her I wanted to be close to Hartland in case she needed something.” He paused “Please just until she has a chance to get better.” Kahlan wanted to scream at him: No! Don’t you dare beg them, Richard! They have no right to make you beg They’ve no right! They could never understand the sacrifices you’ve made But she could little more than whisper his name in sorrow “Don’t test us We’ll burn you out if we have to! You can’t fight us allwe have right on our side.” The men ranted and swore dark oaths She expected, now, at last, to hear the sound of his sword being drawn Instead, in a calm voice, Richard answered the men in words Kahlan couldn’t quite make out A dreadful quiet settled in “It’s not because we like doing this, Richard,” someone finally said in a sheepish voice “We’ve no choice We’ve got to consider our own families and everyone else.” Another man spoke out with righteous indignation “Besides, you seem to have gotten all high-and-mighty of a sudden, with your fancy clothes and sword, not like you used to be, back when you were a woods guide.” “That’s right,” said another “Just because you went off and saw some of the world, that don’t mean you can come back here thinking you’re better than us.” “I’ve overstepped what you have all decided is my proper place,” Richard said “Is this what you mean to say?” “You turned your back on your community, on your roots, as I see it; you think our women aren’t good enough for the great Richard Cypher No, he had to marry some woman from away Then you come back here and think to flaunt yourselves over us.” “How? By doing what? Marrying the woman I love? This, you see as vain? This nullifies my right to live in peace? And takes away her right to heal, to get well and live?” These men knew him as Richard Cypher, a simple woods guide, not as the person he had discovered he was in truth, and who he had become He was the same man as before, but in so many ways, they had never known him “You ought to be on your knees praying for the Creator to heal your wife,” another man put in “All of mankind is a wretched and undeserving lot You ought to pray and ask the Creator’s forgiveness for your evil deeds and sinfulness-that’s what brought your troubles on you and your woman Instead, you want to bring your troubles among honest working folks You’ve no right to try to force your sinful troubles on us That’s not what the Creator wants You should be thinking of us The Creator wants you to be humble and to help others-that’s why He struck her down: to teach you both a lesson.” “Did he tell you this, Albert?” Richard asked “Does this Creator of yours come to talk with you about his intentions and confide in you his wishes?” “He talks to anyone who has the proper modest attitude to listen to Him,” Albert fumed “Besides,” another man spoke up, “this Imperial Order you warn about has some good things to be said for it If you weren’t so bullheaded, Richard, you’d see that There’s nothing wrong with wanting to see everyone treated decent It’s only being fair minded It’s only right Those are the Creator’s wishes, you’ve got to admit, and that’s what the Imperial Order teaches, too If you can’t see that much good in the Order-well then, you’d best be gone, and soon.” Kahlan held her breath In an ominous tone of voice, Richard said, “So be it.” These were men Richard knew; he had addressed them by name and reminded them of years and deeds shared He had been patient with them Patience finally exhausted, he had reached intolerance Horses snorted and stomped, their leather tack creaking, as the men mounted up “In the morning we’ll be back to burn this place down We’d better not catch you or yours anywhere near here, or you’ll burn with it.” After a few last curses, the men raced away The sound of departing hooves hammering the ground rumbled through Kahlan’s back Even that hurt She smiled a small smile for Richard, even if he couldn’t see it She wished only that he had not begged on her behalf; he would never, she knew, have begged for anything for himself Light splashed across the wall as the blanket over the doorway was thrown back By the direction and quality of the light, Kahlan guessed it had to be somewhere in the middle of a thinly overcast day Richard appeared beside her, his tall form towering over her, throwing a slash of shadow across her middle He wore a black, sleeveless undershirt, without his shirt or magnificent gold and black tunic, leaving his muscular arms bare At his left hip, the side toward her, a flash of light glinted off the pommel of his singular sword His broad shoulders made the room seem even smaller than it had been only a moment before His cleanshaven face, his strong jaw, and the crisp line of his mouth perfectly complemented his powerful form His hair, a color somewhere between blond and brown, brushed the nape of his neck But it was the intelligence so clearly evident in those penetrating gray eyes of his that from the first had riveted her attention “Richard,” Kahlan whispered, “I won’t have you begging on my account.” The corners of his mouth tightened with the hint of a smile “If I want to beg, I shall so.” He pulled her blanket up a little, making sure she was snugly covered, even though she was sweating “I didn’t know you were awake.” “How long have I been asleep?” “A while.” She figured it must have been quite a while She didn’t remember arriving at this place, or him building the house that now stood around her Kahlan felt more like a person in her eighties than one in her twenties She had never been hurt before, not grievously hurt, anyway, not to the point of being on the cusp of death and utterly helpless for so long She hated it, and she hated that she couldn’t the simplest things for herself Most of the time she detested that more than the pain She was stunned to understand so unexpectedly and so completely life’s frailty, her own frailty, her own mortality She had risked her life in the past and had been in danger many times, but looking back she didn’t know if she had ever truly believed that something like this could happen to her Confronting the reality of it was crushing Something inside seemed to have broken that night-some idea of herself, some confidence She could so easily have died Their baby could have died before it even had a chance to live “You’re getting better,” Richard said, as if in answer to her thoughts “I’m not just saying that I can see that you’re healing.” She gazed into his eyes, summoning the courage to finally ask, “How they know about the Order way up here?” “People fleeing the fighting have been up this way Men spreading the doctrine of the Imperial Order have been even here, to where I grew up Their Kahlan smiled “How you know that?” “I saw the statue.” In the dawn light, Richard could see her face go red “It didn’t look exactly like me,” she protested, graciously “Not the way it looked, but the character You have that quality.” Kahlan smiled, pleased by his words “Victor, Ishaq, this is Kahlan My wife.” Both men blinked dumbly and looked as one to Nicci “As you know,” Nicci said, “I am not a very good person I am a sorceress I used my power to force Richard to come here with me Richard has shown me, along with many other people, the nobility of life.” “Then you’re the one who saved his life?” Victor asked “Kamil told us you were hurt, Richard,” Ishaq said, “and that a sorceress was healing you.” “Nicci healed me,” Richard confirmed Victor gestured expansively-at last “Well, I guess that has to count for something, saving Richard Cypher.” “Richard Rahl,” Richard said Victor’s rolling laugh rumbled up from deep inside “Right This day, we are all Richard Rahl.” Nicci leaned in “It really is Richard Rahl, Mr Cascella.” “Richard Rahl,” Kahlan said, adding her nod “Lord Rahl,” Cara said in ill humor “Show the proper respect to the Seeker of Truth, the master of the D’Haran Empire, war wizard, and the husband to the Mother Confessor herself.” Cara lifted her hand in graceful, regal introduction “Lord Rahl.” Richard shrugged He lifted the gleaming, silver-wound hilt of his sword, showing them the word TRUTH in gold, and then let it drop back into its scabbard “What a beauty!” Kamil shouted Victor and Ishaq both blinked again, and then dropped to a knee They bowed their heads deeply Richard rolled his eyes “Will you two stop it.” He shot Cara a scowl Victor peered up cautiously “But we never knew I’m sorry You’re not angry I made fun of you?” “Victor, it’s me, Richard How many times have we eaten your lardo together?” “Lardo?” Kahlan asked “You know how to make lardo, Victor?” Victor rose up, a grin growing across his face as he peered at her “You know of lardo?” “Of course The men who used to come to work on the white marble at the Confessors’ Palace used to eat lardo they made themselves -in big marble tubs I used to sit and eat it with them when I was little They used to say I would grow up to wear the white dress of the Mother Confessor one day because I ate their lardo and would grow strong from it.” Victor thumped his chest with a big thumb “I make lardo in marble tubs, too.” “Do you let it age for a year?” Kahlan asked “You have to let proper lardo age for a year.” “Of course, a year! I make only proper lardo.” Kahlan gave him her most beautiful, green-eyed smile “I would love to taste it sometime.” Victor draped his massive arm around Kahlan’s shoulders “Come, Richard’s wife, I will give you a taste of my lardo.” Cara, a dark look on her face, put a hand to the blacksmith’s chest to stop him She lifted his arm from Kahlan’s shoulders “No one but Lord Rahl touches the Mother Confessor.” Victor gave Cara a quizzical look “Have you ever had lardo?” “No.” Victor slapped Cara on the back as he laughed “Come, then, and I will give you lardo, too Then you will see-anyone who eats lardo with me is my friend for life.” Kahlan took Kamil’s place under one of Richard’s arms, Victor under the other, and they made their way across newly free ground up to the blacksmith’s shop, to have some lardo Chapter 71 Verna pulled the candle close She warmed her hands over it a moment, then laid the journey book on the table The sounds of the army camp outside her small tent were by now so familiar she almost didn’t hear them It was a cold D’Haran winter night, but at least they and all the people they had helped were safely over the mountains Verna understood their quiet anxiety: it was a new and mysterious place, D’Hara, a land once only a source of nightmares At least they were safe for the time being In the distance the wolves’ long plaintive howls echoed through the frigid mountains, off the moonlit snow blanketing the seemingly endless, desolate, colossal slopes It was the proper phase of the moon, even if it was the moon in a new land, a strange and unknown land Verna had checked for months, but there was never a message She didn’t really expect one, since Kahlan had thrown Ann’s twinned journey book in the fire But still, it was a journey book, an ancient thing of magic, and Ann was a resourceful woman It didn’t hurt to look Verna opened the little book with no real hope There, on the first page, was a message All it said, was, Verna, I am waiting, if you are there Verna drew the stylus from the spine and immediately began writing Prelate! You have been able to fix the damaged journey book? That’s wonderful Where are you? Are you well? Have you found Nathan? Verna waited Shortly, the reply began to appear Verna, I am well I was able to restore the journey book with the help of some people Strange people But the important part is that it is restored for the most part I am still searching for the prophet I have some good clues on Nathan’s whereabouts, and I am looking into them But how are you, Verna? How goes the war? Warren? Kahlan? Is Zedd giving you much trouble? That man can try the patience of stone Have you had word of Richard? Verna stared at words on the page A tear fell near Warren’s name She picked up the stylus once more, and slowly began her reply Oh, Prelate, some terrible things have happened I am sorry, Verna, came the reply Verna, I am here I am going nowhere for the night Take all the time you need Tell me what happened Tell me how you are, first I worry so for you Verna, I love you like a daughter You know I Verna nodded to the book She did know it And I love you, too, Prelate, Verna began I fear my heart is broken Kahlan stood silently beside him in the warm midday breeze as Richard looked out over the river, at the city beyond The city was peaceful, now Battle had raged for weeks, various factions struggling for power, lusting to be the new local incarnation of the Order, each faction swearing that they had the best interest of the people at heart, each promising that they would be compassionate in their rule, each pledging that life would be easier under their mandate because they would see to it that everyone of means contributed to the common good After decades of such altruistic tyranny, decay and death had been the only product of the business of the common good Despite graveyards full of evidence and a people left impoverished, these aspirants to power offered only more of the same, and yet many still believed them simply because they uttered such good intentions While a great number of brothers and officials had been killed, some had escaped Some of those, who had not fled, thought to take advantage of the confusion and establish control, thinking they could rein in the hunger for freedom, the ideas loosed, and put things back to the way they were The free people of Altur’Rang, their numbers growing daily, eradicated each of these factions as they emerged from under their rocks Nicci had been no small aid in the bloody battles She knew the methods of such people, where they went to ground, and pounced on them like a wolf on vermin The forces lusting to oversee the welfare and betterment of mankind came to greatly fear that which they had in fact created: Death’s Mistress There was no telling, yet, if freedom’s flame, now ignited, would spread through the Old World It was still a very small flame in a vast and dark place, but Richard knew that such a flame burned brightly To the north, matters were not nearly so auspicious With Nicci’s magic withdrawn, Richard supposed that the D’Harans would know where he was, and send him messages Cara was immensely relieved to be able to sense his location again through her bond He had listened quietly as Kahlan and Cara had told him all the details of the war, and how they had sent the people of Aydindril on a long and difficult journey to D’Hara before Jagang could march into the city in the spring It would give them heart to know that Lord Rahl had struck a mighty blow against the Old World, to know that the Mother Confessor was with him, and that they were well A number of men had requested the job of carrying that invaluable news north Soon, the D’Haran Empire and the people they were protecting who had fled their homes would know of the victory to the south The messengers would actually be carrying a more precious commodity than that news: they would in reality be carrying hope Richard had also sent his grandfather the same word Richard could hardly believe that Warren, his friend, was gone The terrible anguish, he knew, would be slow to fade Richard had sent one other thing north Nicci had told him of Brother Narev’s importance to Emperor Jagang, of their long history together, and of their shared vision of the future of mankind In the spring when Jagang finally, triumphantly, rode in to seize the Confessors’ Palace, waiting for him there, before his empty victory, would be his mentor’s head on a pike, topped by his creased brown cap Nicci had woven a spell around it, to preserve it, to keep scavengers away Rich and wanted to be sure that when Jagang finally saw it, he would not mistake who it was In the teeming city of Altur’Rang, peace had returned, along with freedom Life had returned People had begun to open new businesses In a matter of weeks, there was already a variety of bread available New enterprises were starting every day Ishaq was making a fortune hauling goods, but already had competitors vying for the business Nabbi had gone to work for him Ishaq had begged Richard to come work for him when he was strong enough Richard had only laughed Faval, the charcoal maker, had beseeched Ishaq to ask Richard to come to visit and have dinner with him and his family Faval had bought a cart, and his sons now delivered charcoal Richard leaned with his forearms on the railing at the edge of the pier and gazed down over the edge, to the swirling water below, as if trying to divine what the future held The piers out into the river and the walkway atop them, along with the plaza, were about all that remained of the palace Richard had seen to it that the spellforms were removed from the tops of the columns around the grounds, and had Priska melt them down Richard had regained most of his strength Kahlan was strong, and as beautiful as he remembered her She had changed, though Her face had grown more mature in the year they had been apart When he gazed at her, he hungered for a piece of marble and his chisels so he could carve her face in stone Flesh in stone He turned and looked back along the pier, toward the plaza, with its semicircle of columns behind it The fallen column had been restored The plaza had been renamed “Liberty Square,” Victor’s idea Richard asked if it shouldn’t be called “Liberty Circle,” since it was round, and not square Victor thought it sounded better as Liberty Square, so Richard called it Liberty Square After all, the first man to declare himself free, there, had been Victor Kahlan gazed with him back toward the plaza “What you think?” Richard asked her She shook her head, looking at best a little uneasy “I don’t know, Richard It just seems so strange to see it so big So white.” “You don’t like it?” She quickly put a hand on his arm to dispel the notion “No, it isn’t that, it’s just that it’s so .” her uncertain gaze returned down the pier-”big.” The center of the plaza, where the statue Richard had carved had briefly stood, now held a towering marble statue being worked on by a number of stone carvers who used to work at the site carving misery and death Kamil was down there, learning the craft of stone carving from masters His education started with a broom Richard had hired the carvers With the fortune he had made helping the Order build its palace, he could easily afford it The carvers were glad for such work-to exchange value for value The expert carvers were working on scaling up the small statue of Spirit, which Richard had carved for Kahlan, way back in their mountain home when she needed to witness vitality, courage, and indomitable spirit It emerged anew in the best white Cavatura marble The bronze ring of the sundial had survived intact, and was being added to the piece The statue rising in the center would cast its shadow on the curved dial plane The words so many had touched that day would be there for all to see, now Kahlan had been enthusiastic about the concept, but had spent so many months with the carving Richard had done, that it was disorienting for her to see it on such a massive scale She was eager for the day when the carvers were finished scaling it up and she could have her own statue of Spirit back “I hope you don’t mind sharing it with the world,” he said Kahlan smiled wistfully “No, not at all.” “Everyone loves it,” he assured her Her wonderful lilting laugh drifted out across the warm afternoon air “I’ll just have to get used to you showing people my body and soul.” Together, they watched as the carvers working on the flowing robes checked their work with calipers against the statue Richard had carved and the reference points from wooden braces used to scale up the work Kahlan rubbed his lower back “How are you feeling?” “I’m fine Now that you’re with me, I couldn’t feel better.” Kahlan laughed, then “As long as I don’t run you through?” Richard’s laugh fell in easily with hers “You know, when we tell our children how their mother ran their father through with a sword, it’s going to look pretty bad for you.” “Are we going to have children, Richard?” “Yes, we are.” “Then I’ll risk the tale.” As the warm breeze ruffled her hair, he kissed her brow Glancing along the line of trees, their leaves shimmering in the sunlight, Richard watched birds cavort above the riverbank, sweep into a group, and then soar together up over the semicircle of white marble columns standing in the expanse of green grass Kahlan leaned contentedly against his shoulder as they watched men, filled with pride, smiling while they worked on the statue standing before those columns In Altur’ Rang, there was a new spirit In the former heart of the Order beat freedom Table of Contents Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 55 Chapter 56 Chapter 57 Chapter 58 Chapter 59 Chapter 60 Chapter 61 Chapter 62 Chapter 63 Chapter 64 Chapter 65 Chapter 66 Chapter 67 Chapter 68 Chapter 69 Chapter 70 Chapter 71 Table of Contents Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 55 Chapter 56 Chapter 57 Chapter 58 Chapter 59 Chapter 60 Chapter 61 Chapter 62 Chapter 63 Chapter 64 Chapter 65 Chapter 66 Chapter 67 Chapter 68 Chapter 69 Chapter 70 Chapter 71 ... mystery The autumn before, those boundaries had fallen And then, in the winter, the common barrier to the south of the three lands that had for three thousand years sealed away the menace of the. .. could reconcile them all “Richard, are you so sure?” Because of the importance of the past, Kahlan and then Zedd had sworn their lives in defense of Richard as the newly named Seeker of Truth That... means of the magic of a Mord-Sith’s bond to the Lord Rahl Kahlan had once felt the partial touch of an Agiel In a blinding instant, it could inflict the kind of pain that the entire gang of men