Temple of the Winds by Terry Goodkind
Richard thought about the times he had been with Kahlan, at camp, eating rabbit cooked over the fire or porridge sweetened with berries. He licked his lips thinking about the succulent, hot, tender meat, brown and crunchy on the outside from the fire. He had so enjoyed those meals with her. The food and the company were the best.
Now, he was denied that life, and was yoked to another.
After everyone else had been eating for a while, a server brought a bowl of gruel. Denna had him hand it down to Richard. He held it in trembling hands. Almost any time before, he would have cast it aside in disgust, but now, it was all he had.
He was made to put it on the floor and to eat it like a dog, while laughter from the guests filled his ears. He didn’t care. He was being allowed to eat at last.
Gruel was all he was allowed, but at that moment, in his state of tormented need, it was wonderful—it was freedom from the ache of hunger, freedom from the misery of seeing others eat while he starved, fulfillment of a simple but long denied need.
He slurped at it, relishing it, gulping it down. He could not escape his imprisonment in his new life, over which he had no say, and so he decided that if gruel was all he would be allowed, then he would have to accept that fact, and sate his hunger with what he was given.
The light flashed in his head.
Color bled from his sight, vanishing almost painfully, and he saw again the muted mists of the Temple of the Winds around him.
Richard was on his hands and knees on the floor, panting in terror. The glowing white spirit of Denna towered over him.
Denna was right. She could hurt him, still. This pain, though, she had given him out of love.
Richard staggered to his feet. How could he have thought he was ignorant before, and that the knowledge of the Temple of the Winds had brought him new sight? He had had sight all along, but had failed to see. Knowledge without heart was empty.
Wizard Ricker had left, with the sliph, a message for him, but he had ignored it.
Ward left in. Ward right out. Guard your heart from stone.
He had failed to guard his heart from stone, and it had almost cost him everything.
“Thank you, Denna, for that gift of pain.”
“It has taught you something, Richard?”
“That I have to go home, back to my world.”
“Thank you, Richard, for living up to what I expect of you.”
Richard smiled. “Were you not a spirit, I’d kiss you.”
Denna smiled a sad smile. “The thought is the gift, Richard.”
Richard shared a gaze with her for a moment, a gaze between worlds.
“Denna, please tell Raina that we all love her.”
“Raina knows this. Feelings of the heart cross the boundary.”
Richard nodded. “Then you know how much we love you, too.”
“That is why I came to vouch for you in your quest to the winds.”
Richard held his arm out. “Would you escort me to the passageway? I would find peace in your company before I leave this empty place. The worst is yet ahead of me.”
Denna glided along at his side as he headed for the passageway out, striding the Hall of the Winds for the last time. They didn’t speak; words were too paltry to touch what was in his heart.
Near the great doors, the spirit of Darken Rahl waited.
“Going somewhere, my son?” The sound of his words echoed painfully through the hall.
Richard glared at the spirit of his father. “Back to my world.”
“There is nothing for you there. Kahlan, your true love, is married to another man. She has sworn an oath to him before the spirits.”
“You could never understand why I’m going back.”
“Kahlan is married to my son, Drefan. You cannot have her now.”
“That is not why I’m going back.”
“Then why leave this place? The world of life will be empty for you now.”
Richard stalked past the spirit of his father. He didn’t have to explain his reasons to the one who had caused so much grief. Denna glided along beside Richard.
At the doors, Darken Rahl appeared again, blocking the way.
“You may not leave.”
“You can’t stop me.”
“Oh, yes, my son, I can.”
“You must let him pass,” Denna said.
“Only if he agrees to the terms.”
Richard turned to Denna. “What’s he talking about?”
“The spirits set the requirements for your path into our world. Because it was your unique path here, Darken Rahl was called upon and given commensurate sway over your price for coming here, your sacrifice to come here. Darken Rahl set the more onerous of the sacrifices, such as Drefan marrying Kahlan. If one who participated in your coming so chooses, this spirit also has the right to set requirements if you are to leave.”
“I will simply banish him,” Richard said. “I know how to do that, now. I can banish him from the winds, and then leave.”
“It is not that simple,” Denna said. “You traveled from the world of life, through the underworld, to this place within the world of souls. You must return through the underworld. The spirits can set a price. It must, however, be one that is fair, in view of the forces and worlds involved, and it must be a price within your ability to satisfy.”
Richard ran his fingers back through his hair. “And I must pay?”
“If he names a price within the edicts, then you must, if you are to return to your world.”
Smiling that vile smile of his, Darken Rahl glided closer.
“I only have two small, insignificant requirements. Meet them, and you may return to your brother, Drefan, and his wife.”
Richard glared. “Name them, but if you set the price too high, and I choose not to pay it and remain here instead, then I swear I will devote my eternity to making your soul twist in torment. And you know I can do it—the winds have taught me how.”
“Then I guess you will have to decide just how important this is to you, my son. I think you will pay it.”
Richard didn’t want to tell him how important it was, or the price would climb.
“Name the price, and I will decide if I will pay it. I was willing to stay here, I may yet decide to do so.”
Darken Rahl came closer, close enough that the pain of his spirit coruscation was almost enough to make Richard back away. He willed himself to hold his ground, without a shield of magic.
“Oh, the price is going to be high, indeed, but I think you will pay it. I know you, Richard. I know your foolish heart. Even this price, you will pay for her.”
Darken Rahl did indeed know Richard’s heart. Darken Rahl, after all, was the one who had almost destroyed it.
“Name the price or be gone.”
“First, the knowledge of the Temple of the Winds was not yours before you came to this place. You will return as you came—without the knowledge you acquired here. Back in your world, you will be as you were before you left it.”
Richard had expected as much. “Agreed.”
“Oh, very good, my son. How eager, how earnest, you are. Will you agree to the second requirement so readily?” His smile seemed as if it would strip flesh from bone. “I wonder.”
His voice went on in a lethal hiss.
When Darken Rahl named the second requirement, Richard’s knees nearly buckled.
“Can he do that?” Richard could manage no more than a whisper. “Can he demand that?”
Denna stared back with somber, spirit eyes.
“Yes.”
Richard turned away from the two spirits. Head bent, he pressed his hand over his eyes. “It is that important to me,” he whispered. “I agree to the price.”
“I knew you would.” Darken Rahl’s malevolent laugh echoed the length of the Temple of the Winds. “I knew that even this, you would pay for her.”
Richard gathered his senses. He slowly turned, lifting his hand toward the evil spirit.
The laughter died out. “You have agreed to the price I have set within my right and power. You can do nothing but banish me from the winds, and that will not negate the price; the world of souls will enforce it, now that it is named and accepted.”
“So they will,” Richard said. “But you will taste my revenge for all you have done, including the price you have demanded, when you could have stopped with the first as fair.”
Richard freed a pristine flow of Subtractive Magic, uncontaminated by so much as a scintilla of the Additive. It was the force of the void unleashed.
Total oblivion of Light engulfed the spirit of Darken Rahl.
A wail came from that deep forever as Darken Rahl was plunged into the unmitigated shadow of the Keeper of the Underworld, where not the slightest trace of Light from the Creator shone.
It was the pain of denial of that Light that was the true torture of the Keeper’s dark eternity.
When he was gone, Richard turned once more to the passageway back to the world of life.
“I am sorry, Richard,” came Denna’s tender voice. “None but he would have demanded this of you.”
“I know,” Richard whispered as he called the lightning to take him back. “Dear spirit, I know.”
64
Drefan hooked his hand under her arm and pulled her shoulder against him. At the white ruffles of his shirt hung two red Agiel.
“Isn’t it about time you ended this pretense, my wife? Isn’t it about time you gave in to your desires, and admitted your hunger for me?”
Kahlan glared into his blue, Darken Rahl eyes. “Are you really mad, Drefan, or do you just pretend it? I agreed to wed you to save lives, not because I wanted it. When will you ever admit it to yourself? I do not love you, nor will I ever.”
“Love? When have I ever mentioned love? I speak of passion.”
“You are delusional if you think I will ever—”
“You already have. You want it again.”
It cut her to the heart that he had so easily deduced what had happened with Richard. He pointed it out constantly. He taunted her for it. It was her eternal punishment for what she had done, a stain she couldn’t annul.
Distant thunder rumbled through the mountains as the spring storm that had come so suddenly moved on, away from the city. The wild lightning had reminded Kahlan of Richard. She had stood at the window, watching the violent flashes, remembering.
“Never.”
“You are my wife. You have sworn an oath.”
“Yes, Drefan, I have sworn an oath, and I am your wife. I will live by my words, but the spirits are satisfied with what I have given. They demand no more, or the plague would not be gone.” She pulled her arm away. “If you want me, then you will have to rape me, for that is what it will be. I will not go to your bed willingly, nor easily.”
His smile was maddening. “I can wait until you finally give in to your lust. I want you to enjoy it. I long for you finally to admit it, to ask for it.”
He stalked away, but turned back when she called his name.
“What are you doing with Cara and Berdine’s Agiel?”
Touching an Agiel was painful only if it was one that had been used against you in the past—if you had been the prisoner of a Mord-Sith. Agiel were weapons only in the hands of the Mord-Sith to whom they belonged, but without the bond to a true Lord Rahl they no longer functioned. For Drefan, they were nothing more than obscene decoration.
He lifted the red rods away from his chest to have a look at them. “Well, I thought that since I am the Lord Rahl now, I should wear these, as a symbol of my authority. After all, Richard wore one. You wear one.”
“The Agiel we wear are not symbols of authority. They are symbols of our respect for the women to whom they belonged.”
He shrugged as he let them drop back down. “The army seems quite intimidated to see me wearing them. That will do. Good night, my dear. Sleep well.” His sly smile returned. “Call out if you have need of anything.”
Muttering a curse under her breath, Kahlan shouldered open the door to her rooms. She was exhausted, and wanted only to fall into bed, but she knew that her racing mind would deny her sleep.
Berdine was waiting for her.
“Is he gone to bed?” she asked, referring to Drefan.
“Yes,” Kahlan said, “as I am about to do.”
“No, you can’t. You have to come with me.”
Kahlan frowned at the serious look on Berdine’s face. “Where do you want me to go?”
“We have to go up to the Keep.”
“What’s wrong? Is it the sliph? Has someone tried to come through the sliph?”
Berdine waved dismissively as she stepped closer. “No, no, it’s not the sliph.”
“Then what is it?”
“I just want you to come up there with me, that’s all. I want some company.”
Kahlan stroked her hand down the woman’s shoulder. “Berdine, I know how lonely you are, but it’s late, I have a headache, and I’m tired. All afternoon and evening I’ve been in meetings with Drefan, General Kerson, and a number of officers. Drefan wants to move the troops back to D’Hara—for us all to go to D’Hara. He wants to abandon the Midlands to the Order and concentrate on defending D’Hara. I’ve been arguing myself blue.
“I need to go to bed and get some rest so I can get up in the morning and try again to convince them of the folly of Drefan’s plan. The general isn’t so sure that Drefan isn’t right. I am.”
“Sleep later. You are coming up to the Keep with me.”
Kahlan gazed into the Mord-Sith’s eyes. And that was what they were: Mord-Sith eyes. This was not Berdine speaking, it was mistress Berdine, as cold and demanding as any Mord-Sith came.
“Not until you tell me why,” Kahlan said in a level tone.
Berdine seized Kahlan’s arm. “You are going up to the Keep with me. You can either go sitting in the saddle, or lying over it—your choice—but you are going, and you are going now.”
Kahlan had never seen such a look of determination in Berdine’s eyes. It was frightening. That was the only word for it: frightening.
“All right, if it’s that important to you, let’s go. I just want to know why.”
Instead of answering, Berdine tightened her grip on Kahlan’s arm and forced her to the door. Berdine cracked the door, checking, then opened it enough to stick her head out for a look.
“It’s clear,” she whispered. “Come on.”
“Berdine, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
Without answering, Berdine shoved her through the door. They took the service stairs and avoided the passageways that were heavily patrolled. Berdine must have spoken with the guards they did encounter, because when the two of them approached, the guards turned the other way, looking off as if they had seen no one.
Two horses waited, both army horses, big bay geldings.
Berdine tossed a soldier’s cloak at Kahlan. “Here, put this on to cover that white dress of yours so people won’t recognize you, or Drefan will hear about it.”
“Why don’t you want Drefan to know where we’re going?”
Berdine seized Kahlan’s ankle and stuffed her foot into the stirrup. The stirrup was big and loose, made for a man’s boot. Berdine smacked Kahlan’s bottom.
“Get it up there.”
Kahlan abandoned her resistance. Berdine obviously wasn’t going to tell her what the urgency was about. The ride to the Wizard’s Keep was silent, as was the march through the empty halls, passageway, and rooms.
Before they turned down the last stone corridor to the sliph, they encountered Cara standing guard outside a door. Cara, like Berdine, was unreadable in her stern demeanor as she watched Berdine and Kahlan hurry toward her.
At the door, Berdine seized the lever with one hand and Kahlan’s arm with the ot
The look in Berdine’s eye was unequivocal sobriety. “Don’t you dare disappoint me, Mother Confessor, or you will find out exactly why Mord-Sith are so feared. Cara and I will be with the sliph.”
Without looking back, Cara started out toward the sliph while Berdine, without further word, opened the door and roughly shoved Kahlan into the room. Kahlan stumbled, catching her balance as she glanced back to see Berdine pull shut the door.
Kahlan turned, and found herself looking into Richard’s eyes.
Her heart seemed to stop along with her breathing.
A half dozen candles in an iron stand reflected little points of light in his gray eyes. He seemed bigger than life. Every detail was as she remembered. Only his sword was missing from that of her mental image of him.
Ambivalence kept her breath locked in her lungs.
Finally, she found words. “The plague is ended.”
“I know.”
The room felt so small. The stone so dark. The air so heavy. She labored to breathe, to slow her suddenly racing heart.
His forehead was beaded with sweat, even though it was cool in the depths of the Keep. A drop rolled down over his cheekbone, leaving a wet trail.
“Then what are you doing here? There can be no point to it. I have a husband. We have nothing to say to each other… not after… not here, like this, alone.”
His gaze left hers at hearing the cool tone of her voice.
She had hoped it would force him to say it.
Dear spirits, let him say he forgives me.
He said instead, “I asked Cara and Berdine to bring you here so I could talk to you. I came back because I must speak with you. Will you grant me that much?”
Kahlan didn’t know what to do with her hands.
“Of course, Richard.”
He nodded his thanks. He looked in pain. He looked in anguish. His eyes had the dull gloss of distress.
She wanted nothing so much as for him to say that he forgave her. Only that would mend her broken heart. Those were the only words that would mean anything to her. She just wanted him to say it, but he stood there, while his gaze focused beyond the cold stone of the walls.
She decided that if he was going to say it, to forgive her, then the only way was to force him into it.