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Authors: Terry Goodkind

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Epic

Faith of the Fallen (19 page)

BOOK: Faith of the Fallen
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“He has entered a dark time for any man, and especially for a wizard. He must come out the other side of this on his own. If I take him by the hand and lead him through, so to speak, I might take him a way he would not have selected on his own, and then he would forever be crippled by what I had chosen for him.

“…But worse yet, what if he’s right? If I unwittingly forced him to another course, it could doom us all and result in a world enslaved by the Imperial Order.” Zedd shook his head. “No. This much I know: Richard must be left alone to do as he must. If he truly is the one to lead us in this battle for the future of magic and of mankind, then this can only be part of his journey as it must be traveled.”

Almost everyone nodded, if reluctantly, at Zedd’s words.

Warren didn’t nod. He picked at the fabric of his violet robes. “There’s one thing we haven’t considered.” As everyone waited, his blue eyes turned up to meet Zedd’s gaze. In those eyes, Zedd saw an uncommon wisdom that told him that this was a young man who could gaze into the depths of things when most people saw only the sparkles on the surface.

“It could be,” Warren said in a quiet but unflinching voice, “that Richard, being gifted, and being a war wizard, has been visited by a legitimate prophecy. War wizards are different from the rest of us. Their ability is not narrowly specific, but broad. Prophecy is, at least theoretically, within his purview. Moreover, Richard has Subtractive Magic as well as Additive. No wizard born in the last three thousand years has had both sides. While we can perhaps imagine, we could not possibly begin to understand his potential, though the prophecies have alluded to it.

“It could very well be that Richard has had a valid prophecy that he clearly understands. If so, then he may be doing precisely what must be done. It could even be that he clearly understands the prophecy and it is so gruesome he is doing us the only kindness he can—by not telling us.”

Verna covered his hand with hers. “You don’t really believe that, do you, Warren?” Zedd noticed that Verna put a lot of stock in what Warren said.

Ann had told Zedd that Warren was only beginning to exhibit his gift of prophecy. Such wizards—prophets—were so rare that they came along only once or twice a millennium. The potential importance of such a wizard was incalculable. Zedd didn’t know how far along that path Warren really was, yet. Warren probably didn’t, either.

“Prophecy can be a terrible burden.” Warren smoothed his robes along his thigh. “Perhaps Richard’s prophecy told him that if he is to ever have a chance to oversee victory, he must not die with the rest of us in our struggle against the army of the Imperial Order.”

General Reibisch, silent about such wizardly doings, had nevertheless been listening and watching intently. Sister Philippa’s thumb twiddled a button on her dress. Even with Verna’s comforting hand on his, Warren, at that moment, looked nothing but forlorn.

“Warren”—Zedd waited until their eyes met—”we all at times envision the most fearful turn of events, simply because it’s the most frightening thing we can imagine. Don’t invest your thoughts primarily in that which is not the most likely reason for Richard’s actions, simply because it is the reason you fear the most. I believe Richard is struggling to understand his place in all this. Remember, he grew up as a woods guide. He has to come to terms not only with his ability, but with the weight of rule.”

“Yes, but—”

Zedd lifted a finger for emphasis. “The truth of a situation most often turns out to be that one with the simplest explanation.”

The gloom on Warren’s face finally melted away under the dawning radiance of a luminous smile. “I’d forgotten that ancient bit of wisdom. Thank you, Zedd.”

General Reibisch, combing his curly beard with his fingers, pulled the hand free and made a fist. “Besides, D’Harans will not be so easily bested. We have more forces to call upon, and we have allies here in the Midlands who will come to aid in the fight. We have all heard the reports of the size of the Order, but they are just men, not evil spirits. They have gifted, but so do we. They have yet to come face-to-face with the might of D’Haran soldiers.”

Warren picked up a small rock, not quite the size of his fist, and held it in his palm as he spoke. “I mean no disrespect, General, and I do not mean to dissuade you from our just cause, but the subject of the Order has been a pastime of mine. I’ve studied them for years. I’m also from the Old World.”

“Fair enough. So what is it you have to tell us?”

“Well, say that the tabletop is the Old World—the area from which Jagang draws his troops. Now, there are places, to be sure, where there are few people spread over vast areas. But there are many places with great populations, too.”

“It’s much the same in the New World,” the general said. “D’Hara has populous places, and desolate areas.”

Warren shook his head. He passed his hand over the tabletop. “Say this is the Old World—the whole of this table.” He held up the rock to show the general and then placed it on the edge of the tabletop. “This is the New World. This is its size—this rock—compared to the Old World.”

“But, but, that doesn’t include D’Hara,” General Reibisch sputtered. “Surely…with D’Hara—”

“D’Hara is included in the rock.”

“I’m afraid Warren is right,” Verna said.

Sister Philippa, too, nodded grim acknowledgment. “Perhaps…” she said, looking down at her hands folded in her lap, “perhaps Warren is right, and Richard has seen a vision of our defeat, and knows he must remain out of it, or be lost with all the rest of us.”

“I don’t think that’s it at all,” Zedd offered in a gentle voice. “I know Richard. If Richard thought we would lose, he would say so in order to give people a chance to weigh that in their decisions.”

The general cleared his throat. “Well, actually, one of the letters is missing from that stack. It was the first—where Lord Rahl told me about his vision. In it, Lord Rahl did say that we had no chance to win.”

Zedd felt the blood drain down into his legs. He tried to keep his manner unconcerned. “Oh? Where is the letter?”

The general gave Verna a sidelong glance.

“Well, actually,” Verna said, “when I read it, I was angered and…”

“And she balled it up and threw it in the fire,” Warren finished for her.

Verna’s face turned red, but she offered no defense. Zedd could understand the sentiment, but he would have liked to have read it with his own eyes. He forced a smile.

“Were those his actual words—that we had no chance to win?” Zedd asked, trying not to sound alarmed. He could feel sweat running down the back of his neck.

“No…” General Reibisch said as he shifted his shoulders inside his uniform while giving the question careful thought. “No, Lord Rahl’s words were that we must not commit our forces to an attack directly against the army of the Imperial Order, or our side will be destroyed and any chance for winning in the future will be forever lost.”

The feeling began to return to Zedd’s fingers. He wiped a bead of sweat from the side of his forehead. He was able to draw an easier breath. “Well, that only makes sense. If they are as large a force as Warren says, then any direct attack would be foolhardy.”

It did make sense. Zedd wondered, though, why Richard would make such a point of it to a man of General Reibisch’s experience. Perhaps Richard was only being cautious. There was nothing wrong with being cautious.

Adie slipped her hand under Zedd’s and cuddled her loose fist under his palm. “If you believe you must let Richard be in this, then you will stay? Help teach the gifted here what they must know?”

Every face was etched with concern as they watched him, hanging on what he might decide. The general idly stroked a finger down the white scar on the side of his face. Sister Philippa knitted her fingers together. Verna and Warren entwined theirs.

Zedd smiled and hugged Adie’s shoulders. “Of course I’m not going to abandon you.”

The three on the bench opposite him each let out a little sigh. Their posture relaxed as if ropes around their necks had been slackened.

Zedd passed a hard look among them all. “War is nasty business. It’s about killing people before they can kill you. Magic in war is simply another weapon, if a frightening one. You must realize that it, too, in this, must be used for the end result of killing people.”

“What do we need to do?” Verna asked, clearly relieved that he had agreed to stay, but not to the obvious extent of General Reibisch, Warren, or Sister Philippa.

Zedd pulled some of his robes from each side of his legs over into the middle, between them, as he gave the question some thought. It was not the sort of lesson he relished.

“Tomorrow morning, we will begin. There is much to learn about countering magic in warfare. I will teach all the gifted some things about the awful business of using what you always hoped to use for good, for harm, instead. The lessons are not pleasing to endure, but then, neither is the alternative.”

The thought of such lessons, and worse, the use of such knowledge, could not be pleasant for any of them to contemplate. Adie, who knew a little bit about the horrific nature of such struggle, rubbed his back in sympathy. His heavy robes stuck to his skin. He wished he had his simple wizard’s robes back.

“We will all do as we must to prevent our own people from falling to the monstrous magic of the Imperial Order,” Verna said. “You have my word as Prelate.”

Zedd nodded. “Tomorrow, then, we begin.”

“I fear to think of magic added to warfare,” General Reibisch said as he stood.

Zedd shrugged. “To tell the truth, the ultimate object of magic in warfare is to counter the enemy’s magic. If we do our job properly, we will bring balance to this. That would mean that all magic would be nullified and the soldiers would then be able to fight without magic swaying the battle. You will be able to be the steel against steel, while we are the magic against magic.”

“You mean, your magic won’t be of direct help to us?”

Zedd shrugged. “We will try to use magic to visit harm on them in any way we can, but when we try to use magic as a weapon, the enemy will try to counter ours. Any attempt to use their power against us, we will try to counter. The result of magic in warfare, if properly and expertly done, is that it seems as if magic did not exist at all.

“If we fail to rise to the challenge, then the power they throw at us will be truly horrific to witness. If we can best them, then you will see such destruction of their forces as you can’t imagine. But, in my experience, magic has a way of balancing, so that you rarely see such events.”

“A deadlock, then, is our goal?” Sister Philippa asked.

Zedd turned his palms up, moving his hands up and down in opposition, as if they were scales holding great weight. “The gifted on both sides will be working harder than they have ever worked before. I can tell you that it’s exhausting. The result, except with small shifts in the advantage, is that it will seem as if we are all doing nothing to earn our dinner.”

Zedd let his hands drop. “It will be punctuated with brief moments of sheer horror and true panic when it seems beyond doubt that the world itself is about to end in one final fit of sheer madness.”

General Reibisch grinned in an odd, gentle, knowing way. “Let me tell you, war, when you’re holding a sword, looks about the same way.” He held up a hand in mock defense. “But I’d rather that, I guess, than have to swing my sword at every magic mosquito that came along. I’m a man of steel against steel. We have Lord Rahl to be the magic against the magic. I’m relieved we have Lord Rahl’s grandfather, the First Wizard, to aid us, too. Thank you, Zedd. Anything you need is yours. Just ask.”

Verna and Warren added silent nods as the general stepped to the entrance of the tent. When Zedd spoke, General Reibisch turned back, gripping the flap in one hand.

“You’re still sending messengers to Richard?”

The general confirmed that they were. “Captain Meiffert was up there, too. He might be able tell you more about Lord Rahl.”

“Have all of the messengers returned safely?”

“Most of them.” He rubbed his bearded chin. “We’ve lost two, so far. One messenger was found by chance at the bottom of a rockslide. Another never returned, but his body wasn’t found—which wouldn’t be unusual. It’s a long and difficult journey. There are any number of hazards on such a journey; we have to expect we might lose a few men.”

“I’d like you to stop sending men up there to Richard.”

“But Lord Rahl needs to be kept informed.”

“What if the enemy should capture one of those messengers and find out where Richard is? If you have no scruples, most any man can eventually be made to talk. The risk is not worth it.”

The general rubbed his palm on the hilt of his sword as he considered Zedd’s words. “The Order is far to the south of us—way down in Anderith. We control all the land between here and the mountains where Lord Rahl is staying.” He shook his head in resignation at Zedd’s unflinching gaze. “But if you think it’s a concern, I’ll not send another. Won’t Lord Rahl wonder, though, what’s going on with us?”

“What’s going on with us is not really relevant to him right now; he is doing as he must do, and he can’t allow our situation to influence him. He has told you already that he won’t be able to give you any orders, that he must stay out of it.”

Zedd tugged his sleeves straight and sighed as he thought about it. “Perhaps when the summer is over, before the full grip of winter descends and they’re snowed in way up there, I’ll go and see how they fare.”

General Reibisch gave a departing smile. “If you could talk to Lord Rahl, it would be a relief for us all, Zedd; he would trust your word. Good night, then.”

The man had just betrayed his true feelings. No one in the tent really trusted what Richard was doing, except, perhaps, Zedd, and Zedd had his doubts, too. Kahlan had said that she believed Richard viewed himself as a fallen leader; these people who claimed not to understand how he could believe such a thing, at the same time didn’t trust his actions.

Richard was all alone with only the strength of his beliefs to support him.

BOOK: Faith of the Fallen
13.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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