AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Well, when those in charge found all this out, they sent someone to undo what these wizards had done. They needed one with tremendous power, and conviction, hoping he would have enough strength to succeed. They sent the most zealous proponent of magic among them, a fanatic—the head prosecutor, a powerful wizard named Lothain—to the Temple of the Winds to undo the damage.”
Kahlan drew her lower lip between her teeth. “What happened?”
“He got in, through Betrayer’s Hall, just like you told me. It worked just as you said; Lothain entered, but in so doing, he betrayed them. I’m not sure what it was that he did; many of the words, I think, have to do with specific magic that I don’t understand. But from what I gather, he reinforced what the wizards who sent the temple away had done, and made it even worse.
“He betrayed those in the New World. Because he had to alter the way the Temple of the Winds held this magic, it set off the warnings of the red moons.
“When the Temple sent the red moons, and the call for aid, a wizard was sent. Because the temple was sending for help, the wizards were glad for the call, since it meant that they wouldn’t have to enter through Betrayer’s Hall. They thought they would be able to get in and at last remedy the problem. He never came back. They sent another, more powerful and experienced wizard. He never returned, either.
“Finally, in view of the seriousness of the situation, the First Wizard himself went to the Temple of the Winds.” Richard lifted the amulet at his chest. “Baraccus.”
“Baraccus,” Kahlan breathed in wonder. “Did he get into the temple?”
“They were never sure.” Richard pushed his thumb back and forth along the edge of the table. “Baraccus came back in a dazed stupor. They followed after him, but he didn’t react or respond to anything they said or did.
“He went into the First Wizard’s enclave—his retreat—and left this there.” Richard held up the amulet at his chest, showing it to her. “He came out, removed the rest of his outfit—these things I wear—and then walked to the edge of the rampart and jumped off the side of the mountain to his death.”
Kahlan sat back up straight while Richard cleared his throat and gathered his voice before going on.
“After that, the wizards abandoned any further attempt to get into the Temple of the Winds, to answer the call of the red moons, as impossible. They were never able to get in to undo the damage the temple team and then Lothain had done.”
Kahlan watched him with a sober look as he stared off at nothing. “How did they know all this?”
Richard’s fist tightened around the amulet at his chest.
“They used a Confessor. Magda Searus. The first Mother Confessor herself.”
“She lived in that time? She was there, in this war? I never knew that.”
Richard rubbed his fingertips across the furrows on his brow. “Lothain wouldn’t tell them what he had done. The wizards conducting the trial were the ones who ordered the creation of the Confessors. Magda Searus was the first. They knew that they wouldn’t be able to torture the truth out of Lothain—they tried—so they took this woman, Magda Searus, created the magic of the Confessors, and instilled the power in her.
“She touched Lothain with her power and got the truth out of him. He confessed the extent of what the temple team had done, and what he had done.”
Richard looked away from her green eyes. “The wizard who did this to Magda Searus, created the Confessors’ power, was named Merritt. The tribunal was so pleased with the results of Merritt’s conjuring that they commanded an order of Confessors to be created, and wizards assigned to safeguard them.
“Merritt became protector to Magda Searus, her wizard, in return for the life, the duty, to which he had condemned her, to which he had condemned all the descendants of Confessors to follow.”
The room fell silent. Kahlan was wearing her Confessor’s face: the blank expression that showed nothing of her feelings. He didn’t need to see an expression on her face to know her feelings. Richard pulled the porridge back and ate some more. It had cooled considerably.
“Richard,” Kahlan finally whispered, “if these wizards, with all that power, with all that knowledge… if even they couldn’t get into the Temple of the Winds after it sent its warning with the red moons, then…”
Her voice trailed off. Richard put words to the rest of it.
“Then how can I hope to?”
Richard ate lentil porridge as the uncomfortable silence dragged on.
“Richard,” Kahlan said in a quiet voice, “if we don’t get into the temple, then what the spirit showed me will come to pass. Death will sweep the land. Untold numbers of people will die.”
Richard nearly leaped to his feet and screamed at her that he knew that. Nearly screamed, asking what she expected him to do. Instead, he swallowed back the screams along with the porridge.
“I know,” he whispered.
He went back to eating his porridge in silence. When he had finished, and was sure he had composed himself, he went on.
“One of the temple team, a wizard named Ricker, made a statement before they executed him.” Richard pulled the piece of paper with the translation out of the disorderly stack and read it to her. “‘I can no longer countenance what we do with our gift. We are not the Creator, nor are we the Keeper. Even a vexatious prostitute has the right to live her life.’”
“What was he talking about?” Kahlan asked.
“I think that when the wizards used people—destroyed them—to create the things they needed to fight the war, I think they used people who were troublesome for one reason or another—people they didn’t mind destroying. I’ve heard it said that a wizard must use people. I doubt they knew the ghastly origin of the maxim.”
He saw dismay haunting her eyes.
“Richard, do you think then, from what you’ve read, that it’s hopeless? Do you think we can do nothing, then?”
Richard didn’t know what to say. He reached over and clasped her hand. “The temple team, before they were executed, said in their own defense that they hadn’t sealed the temple away for good, as they might have easily done, but instead left a way in to answer the call. They said that if the need was truly great enough, it could still be entered.
“I will get in, Kahlan. I swear it.”
A small measure of relief came briefly to her beautiful eyes, but the haunted look settled back into them. Richard knew what she was thinking. It was the same as he’d wondered himself as he read of the madness that was the war, and of what people had done to each other.
“Kahlan, we don’t use magic to destroy people for our own purposes. We use it to fight against a cause that murders helpless children. We fight for freedom from terror and killing.”
A small smil
e returned as she squeezed his hand.
They both looked up when they heard a knock on the open door.
It was Drefan. “Can I come in? I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”
“No, it’s all right,” Richard said. “Come in.”
“I just wanted you to know that I ordered the carts, like you wanted. It’s gotten to that point.”
Richard rubbed his fingertips across his forehead. “How many?”
“A little over three hundred last night, if the reports are all in. As you suspected might be the case, the people can’t handle that many dead anymore, and the numbers grow each day.”
Richard nodded. “We can’t let the dead wait. It could spread the plague even faster to have them rotting in the open air. They have to be buried as soon as they die. Tell the men I want the dead-carts sent out just as soon as they have it organized. I give them until sunset.”
“I already told them. As you say, we can’t allow bodies infected with the plague to go untended; it could make the plague worse.”
“It can get worse?” Richard mocked.
Drefan didn’t answer.
“I’m sorry,” Richard said. “That wasn’t called for. Have you found anything that is of any use?”
Drefan tugged down the sleeves of his white shirt. “Richard, there is no cure for the plague. At least, I know of none. The only hope is to stay healthy. Speaking of which, it isn’t healthy to sit in here all day and most of the night. You aren’t getting enough sleep, again. I can see it in your eyes. I’ve warned you about that before. And you need to walk around, get some air.”
Richard was sick of trying to translate the book, and sick of the things he found out when he succeeded. He flipped it closed and pushed back his chair.
