“Du Chaillu! Stop this before I have to hurt them!”at her was a mistake. It distracted him. It allowed a spear through his flowing defense. He had a choice as the rage instantly exploded at the threat. He could kill the attacker, or do only what was necessary to stop him.sword spun, its tip whistling through the air, and lopped off the hand that thrust the spear. Blood and fragments of bone filled the air. The scream was a woman’s.of the Baka Ban Mana were women, he realized. It didn’t matter. They would kill him if he didn’t defend himself. Losing a hand was better than losing your head. First blood brought the rage, the need to kill, boiling up within him, hot and thirsty for more.fought the attackers and fought the things within himself that wanted to press the attack to those around him. He didn’t want to press the attack. He only wanted them to stop. But if they didn’t stop…he broke their spears, they picked up others and threw themselves at him again. He slipped among them like a phantom, conserving his energy as he let them wear themselves out.outer ring, who had continued to circle while the inner one had attacked, stopped, and then, swords awhirl, began advancing. Those with the spears—the ones who were still standing—stepped back through the outer ring as it came forward.spun in the air. Instead of waiting for them to come to him, Richard went to them. They flinched in surprise as the Sword of Truth shattered two of the flashing blades.
“Du Chaillu! Please! I don’t want to kill any of you!”ones with the swords were faster than the ones with the spears. Too fast. Talking, and trying to disarm them without killing, was a dangerous distraction. Richard felt a hot pain flash through the flesh over his ribs. He hadn’t even seen the blade coming, but he had moved by instinct and received a shallow slash instead of a killing cut.own blood being drawn summoned the sword’s magic to his defense—the rage, the skill of those who had held it before him. Their essence seared through him, and he couldn’t hold it back. There was no choice anymore. It overwhelmed his restraint. He had given them every chance. He was beyond retrieval, now.of death.swordsmen rushed in a deadly wave.loosed the magic with a vengeance. The sta ling was over. The barriers down, he danced with death, now.night erupted in a warm mist of blood. He heard himself screaming and he felt himself moving; he saw men and women falling, as disembodied heads tumbled across the ground. The lust for it raged through him.blade touched him again. He countered every strike as if he had seen it a thousand times before, as if he had always known what to do. Every attack brought a sure and swift death to the attacker. Bone fragments and blood exploded through the night air. Gore sluiced across the ground. The horror of it all melted together into one long killing image.of death.only realized he had his knife in his left hand and his sword in his right when two came from opposite sides at once. He hooked his arm around the neck of the one on the left and slit his throat while at the same time running the one on the right through with the sword. Both collapsed to the ground as Richard stood panting.echoed around him. There was no movement, except for one on her knees, holding herself up with one hand. Her other hand was missing. She rose to her feet, pulling a knife from her belt.his glower, Richard watched the determination in her eyes. She ran for him with a scream. Richard stood deathlike in a cold cocoon of magic. The rage pounded as he watched her come. She raised the knife.’s sword whipped up and impaled her through the heart. The dead weight of her pulled the sword down as she slid off it to the ground, her last breath gurgling out as her fingers grasped the blade, sliding down its wet red length as she slipped into the hands of death.of death.lifted his smoldering glare to the woman standing on the rock. Du Chaillu stepped down, unwrapped her head, letting the long cloth hang down, and went to one knee in a bow., his rage burning hotly, strode to her. He lifted Du Chaillu’s chin with the sword’s point.dark eyes stared up into his. “The Caharin has come.”
“Who is the Caharin?”Chaillu looked unflinchingly into his eyes. The one who dances with the spirits.”
“Dances with the spirits,” Richard repeated in a flat tone. He understood. He had danced with the spirits of those who held the sword before him. He had called the dead forth, danced with their spirits. He almost laughed.
“I will never forgive you, Du Chaillu, for making me kill those people. I saved your life because I abhor killing, and you have brought the blood of thirty to my hands.”
“I am sorry, Caharin, that you must bear this burden. But only through the blood of thirty Baka Ban Mana could the killing stop. Only in this way can we serve the spirits.”
“How is killing serving the spirits!”
“When the magic men stole our land, they banished us to this place. They placed upon us the duty of teaching the Caharin to dance with the spirits. Only the Caharin can stop the Dark Spirit from taking the world of the living. The Caharin is given to the world as a new born babe, who must be taught. Part of this duty is placed upon us—to teach him to dance with the spirits. You have learned something this night, have you not?”gave a grim nod.
“I am the keeper of the laws of our people. It was our calling to teach you this. If we were to ignore what the old words tell us we must do, then the Caharin would not learn what is within himself, and he would be defenseless against the forces of death. In the end, death would have everyone.Majendie sacrifice us, to remind us always of our duty to the spirits, and to remind us to practice with the blades. The witch women to the other side aid the Majendie, so that we will be surrounded, with no way of escape, and nowhere to go, so that we will always be under threat, and unable to ever forget our duty.
“It is proclaimed that the Caharin will announce his arrival by dancing with the spirits, and spilling the blood of thirty Baka Ban Mana, a feat none but the chosen one could accomplish except with the aid of the spirits. It is said that when this happens, then we are his to rule. We are no longer a free people, but bound to his wishes. To your wishes, Caharin.old words say that if every year the one who wears the prayer dress goes to our land, to give our prayers to the spirits, then one year, they will send the Caharin, and if we carry out our duty, then he will return our land to us.”stood, as if in a dream, glaring down at the woman. “You have taken something precious from me this night, Du Chaillu.”came to her feet, straightening before him. “do not speak to me of sacrifice, Caharin. My five husbands, whom I loved, whom my children loved, who have not seen me since I was captured, were among the thirty you have just killed.”sank to his knees. He felt like he might be sick. “du Chaillu, forgive me for what I have done this night.”gently put a hand to his bowed head. “It has been my honor to be the spirit woman of our people when the Caharin has come, to be the one to wear the prayer dress and bring him to his people. You must do your duty, now, and return our land, as the old words tell us.”lifted his head. “And do the old words say how I am to accomplish this task?”slowly shook her head. “Only that we are to help you, and that you will. We are yours to command.”the dark, Richard felt a tear run down his cheek. Then I command that the killing stop. You will do as I have already ordered. You will use the bird whistle to bring peace with the Majendie. While you are doing that, you will do as you promised, and have someone guide us to the Palace of the Prophets.”looking up, Du Chaillu snapped her fingers. Richard realized, for the first time, that people in the shadows surrounded the bloody clearing. All were on their knees, bowed toward him. At the snap of her fingers, several sprang forward.
“Guide them to the big stone house.”stood before her, looking into her dark eyes. “du Chaillu, I’m so sorry I killed your husbands. I begged you to stop it, but I’m so sorry.”eyes bore the timeless look he had seen in the eyes of others; Sister Verna, Shota the witch woman, and Kahlan. He knew now that it was the gift he was seeing. A ghost of a smile came to her lips. He didn’t know how she could smile at a time like this.fought as hard as any Baka Ban Mana have ever fought. They had the honor of teaching the Caharin. They have given their lives for their people. They brought honor to themselves, and will live on as legends.”reached out and placed her hand on his bare chest. On the handprint there. “You are my husband, now.”’s eyes widened. “What?”gave a curious frown. “I wear the prayer dress. I am the spirit woman of our people. You are the Caharin. It is the old law. You are my husband.”shook his head. “No, I’m not. I already have…”was going to say he already had a love. But the words caught in his throat. Kahlan had sent him away. He had nothing.shrugged. “It could be worse for you. The last one who wore the prayer dress was old and wrinkled. She had no teeth. I hope that I bring at least some pleasure to your eyes, and maybe someday a song to your heart, but I belong to the Caharin. It is not for you, or me, to decide.”
“Yes it is!” He looked about and then snatched up his shirt. As he put it on, he saw Sister Verna at the edge of the clearing, watching him, like a bug in a box. He turned to Du Chaillu.
“You have a job to do. You will do it. The killing is ended. The Sister and I must get to the palace so I can get this collar off.”Chaillu leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Until I see you again, Richard, Seeker, Caharin, husband.”49and Sister Verna sat on their horses, anchoring long, thin shadows, as they looked down from the grassy prominence. Trees meandered along the low places among some of the hills, and blanketed others in dusky green. The vast city below lay awash in a straw-colored haze that muted the colors into a mellow monotone. The distant tiled and shingled roofs shimmered in the rays of the setting sun like points of light on a pond.had never seen so many buildings laid out in such an orderly array. Off to the edges they were smaller, but toward the core they seemed to grow, both in size and in grandeur. The faraway sounds of tens of thousands of people and horses and wagons drifted all the way up to them on the hill, carried on the light, salty breeze.river meandered through the collection of countless buildings, dividing the city, with the part on the far side twice as large. At the edge of the city, docks lined the banks along the mouth of the majestic river. Boats of all sizes were not only moored there, but dotted the river, their white sails filled with air. Some of the boats, he could just make out, had three masts. Richard had never imagined that such large boats might exist.being there against his will, Richard found himself fascinated by the city, by all the people and all the sights it must hold. He had never seen such a place. He imagined a person could probably walk around for days and days, and not begin to see it all., shimmering with golden sparkles and reflections, lay the sea, stretching to a knife’s-edge line at the horizon.the city, near the center, rising up on an island of its own, stood a vast palace, its imposing, crenellated west wall bathed in the sun’s golden rays. Baileys and ramparts and towers and sections and roofs, all of grand design, joined together into a complex structure that held labyrinthine courtyards with trees, or grass, or ponds. The palace seemed to be stretching its stone arms, jealously trying to enclose the whole of the island atop which it sat.from this distance, with the thread-thin streets radiating out from the the island at the core of the city, and strandlike bridges spanning the river all around, the palace reminded Richard of nothing as much as a fat spider sitting in the center of its web.
“The Palace of the Prophets,” Sister Verna said.
“Prison,” Richard said without looking to her.ignored the comment. The city is Tanimura, and through it, the River Kern. The palace itself sits on Halsband Island.”
“Halsband.” His hackles rose. “Is that some kind of sardonic joke?”
“What do you mean? Does Halsband have significance?”raised an eyebrow. “A halsband is a collar used to launch a hunting hawk on an attack.”shrugged dismissively. “You read too much into things.”
“Do I? We shall see.”let out a small sigh as she lifted her hips, starting her horse down the hill, and changed the subject. “It’s been many years since I was home, but it looks as it always has.”two Baka Ban Mana men who had guided them through the swampy, trackless forest for the last two days had left them that morning, once Sister Verna was at last in familiar territory. Although he never lost his sense of direction, Richard could easily see how people could become disoriented there. But he was at home in such places of vast desolation, and was more likely to become lost in a building than in dense woods.two men had spoken little over those two days. Though they were swordsmen as fierce as those Richard had fought, they were in awe of him. Richard had to shout before they would stop all the bowing. No amount of shouting, though, could make them stop calling him Caharin.night, before he went to stand his usual watch, Sister Verna had told him, in a quiet tone, that she was sorry that he had had to kill those thirty people. A little surprised by her sincerity and the seeming lack of meaning other than that stated, and haunted by the memory, he had thanked her for understanding.scanned the fertile hills and valleys. “Why isn’t this land farmed? With all those people, they must need to plant food.”Verna lifted a hand holding the reins and indicated the land on the other side of the city. “Farms cover the land on that side of the river. On this side, it’s not safe for man nor beast.” Tilting her head back, she indicated the land behind. “The Baka Ban Mana are always a threat.”
“So they don’t farm here because they’re afraid of the Baka Ban Mana?”cast a glance to her left. “do you see that dark forest?” She watched him as he took in the fringe of the dense tangle in the next valley. Huge, old, gnarled trees were packed close together, covered with vines and moss, and harboring gloomy shadows. “This edge runs for miles more toward the city. It’s the Hagen Woods. Stay far away from it. All who let the sun set on them in the Hagen Woods die. Many who set foot there die before they have a chance to wait for the sun to go down. It’s a place of vile magic.”they rode, he kept glancing toward the Hagen Woods. He felt a longing for that gloomy place, as if it complemented his dark mood; as if he belonged in there. He found it hard to draw his eyes away.close, the streets of Tanimura were not the orderly place they appeared from a distance. The fringes of the city were a confusion of squalor. Men pushing or pulling carts laden with loads of rice sacks, or carpets, or firewood, or hides, or even garbage, wove around and past each other, sometimes clogging the way. Lining the road were hawkers of every sort, selling everything from fruits and vegetables and strips of meat cooked on little sticks over tiny smoky fires in impromptu stone hearths, to herbs and fortunes, to boots and beads. At least the cooking gave spotty relief from the reeking stench of tanneries.groups of men in worn, dirty clothes shouted with excitement or burst into laughter around games of cards and dice. Side streets and narrow alleyways were clogged with people and lined with ramshackle huts of tarp and tin. Naked children ran and played among the flimsy shelters, splashing in muddy puddles and chasing each other in games of catch-the-fox. Women squatted around buckets, washing clothes and chatting among themselves.Verna muttered to herself that she didn’t remember the squalor and the unhoused multitudes. Richard thought that, despite their condition, they looked happier than they had a right to.having lived out-of-doors, and being a little dirty and rumpled, Sister Verna, compared to these people, looked like royalty. Anyone coming close bowed in reverence to the Sister, and she prayed for the Creator’s blessing on them in return.timeworn buildings, some faced with faded, crumbling plaster, some with age-darkened wood, were just as packed as the streets. Colorful wash hung from the rusty iron railings of nearly every tiny balcony. A few held pots of flowers or herbs. Laughter and the hum of conversation came from taverns and inns. A butcher shop displayed fly-covered carcasses on the street out front. Other shops sold dried fish, or grain, or oils.farther he and the Sister went, the cleaner the city became. The road widened, even the side streets were wider, and none had huts leaning against the buildings. The shops had bigger windows with painted shutters, and better-looking wares, many displaying colorful, locally woven carpets. By the time the wide road became lined with trees, the buildings were grand. The inns looked elegant, with doormen standing in red uniforms before them.the stone bridge over the Kern, men were lighting lamps hung on poles to show the way in the gathering darkness. In the river, below the bridge, fishermen in small boats with lanterns rowed through the dark water. Soldiers in ornate uniforms with gold-trimmed white shirts and red tunics, and carrying polearms, patrolled each side of the river. As the horses” hooves clopped along the cobblestone, Sister Verna finally spoke.
“It’s a great day, at the palace, when a new one with the gift arrives.” She cast him a brief, sideways glance. “It’s a rare and joyous event. They will be happy to see you, Richard, please remember that. To them, this is an event of note in their calling. Though you feel differently, their hearts will be warmed by the sight of you. They will want you to feel welcome.”thought otherwise. “Make your point.”
“I just did. They will be delighted.”
“What you are saying, in other words, is you would like me not to horrify them right off.”
“I didn’t say that.” She glanced with a small frown at the soldiers guarding the bridge. She finally looked back to him. “I am simply asking you to realize that these women live for this very thing.”stared ahead as he rode past more guards in dress uniforms. A wise person, a person I love, told me once that we all can only be who we are, no more, and no less.” His gaze swept the top of the wall ahead, noting the soldiers there, and what arms they carried. “I’m the bringer of death, and I have nothing to live for.”
“That’s not true, Richard,” she said in a quiet tone. “You’re a young man, and you have much to live for. You have a long life ahead of you. And though you may have named yourself the bringer of death, I have seen you do nothing but strive to stop the killing. Sometimes you will not listen, and make matters worse, but it’s through ignorance, not malice.”
“Since you abhor lies, Sister, I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to pretend to feel other than I do.”sighed as they went through a huge gate in the thick, outer bailey wall, the horses” hooves echoing inside the long, arched opening. Beyond, the road meandered among low, spreading trees. Windows in the buildings rising up all around were aglow with soft yellow light. Many of the buildings were connected by covered colonnades, or enclosed halls with arched openings covered over with latticework. Benches dotted the far side of the courtyard, against a wall with a frieze carved with figures on horses.archways with white-painted gates, they came to the stables. Horses browsed in a field beyond. Boys dressed in neat livery, with black vests over tan shirts, came to hold the horses as he and the Sister dismounted. Richard gave Bonnie’s neck a scratch and then started taking down his belongings.Verna brushed out the wrinkles in her divided riding skirt and straightened her light cloak. She fussed at her curly hair. “No need for that, Richard. Someone will bring your things.”
“No one touches my things but me,” he said.sighed and shook her head, and then told the boy to have her things brought in. He bowed to her, and then hooked a lead line on Jessup. He gave a sharp snap on the line. Jessup balked.boy brought a whip around on the Jessup’s rump. “Move, you dumb beast!”bellowed as he tried to yank his head away.next thing Richard knew, the boy was flying across the walkway. He slammed up against a flimsy wooden wall and landed on his seat, as a glowering Sister Verna loomed over him.
“Don’t you dare whip that horse! What’s the matter with you? How would you like it if I did that to you?” In shock, the boy shook his head. “If I ever hear of you whipping a horse again, you will be without a job, after I whip your skinny bottom.”wide-eyed lad gave a quick nod and apology. Sister Verna glared a moment longer and then turned, whistling for her horse. When Jessup trotted up, she scratched him under his chin, comforting and calming him. She led him inside to a stall and saw that he had water and hay. Richard made sure she didn’t see his smile.they walked across the courtyard, she said, “Just remember, Richard, there isn’t a Sister here, or even a novice, who, while at the same time as she was yawning, couldn’t throw you across a room like that with her Han.”a wood-paneled hall with long yellow and blue carpets running under ornate side tables, three women waited. They became all atwitter at the sight of Sister Verna. Sister Verna was a head shorter than he, and none of these three women were as tall as she. They smoothed their full, pastel skirts, and tugged at the white bodices.
“Sister Verna!” one cried out as the three rushed up. “Oh, dear Sister Verna, it’s so good to see you at last.”tear or two ran down their rosy faces. Their smiles looked about to burst their cheeks. Each looked a good deal younger than Sister Verna. She surveyed the big, wet eyes.Verna tenderly stroked the sniffling face before her. “sister Phoebe.” She touched another’s hand. “And Sister Amelia, and Sister Janet. It’s so good to see you again. It has been a long time indeed.”three giggled with excitement, at last composing themselves. Sister Phoebe’s round face looked about, past Richard.
“Where is he? Why haven’t you brought him in with you?”Verna lifted her hand toward Richard. This is he. Richard, these are friends of mine. Sisters Phoebe, Amelia, and Janet.”smiles transformed into astonished looks. They blinked as they took in his size and age. They stared in open amazement before finally sputtering over each other’s words about how glad they were to meet him. They tore their eyes from him at last and returned their attention to Sister Verna.
“Better than half the palace is waiting to greet you both,” Sister Phoebe said. “Everyone has been so excited since we received word that you would arrive today.”Amelia smoothed back her fine, light brown hair, flipping back the ends that barely brushed her shoulders. “No other has been brought in since you left for Richard. All those years, and no other. Everyone is so eager to meet him. I guess they are in for a “big” surprise,” she said as she blushed, glancing sideways at him. “some of the younger Sisters, especially. A pleasant surprise, I would say. My, but he is big.”remembered a time, when he was little, when he had been imprisoned in his house by a pouring rain. His mother had some women friends visiting to help in the making of a quilt, and to pass the time in conversation. As they sat and sewed while he played on the floor, they discussed him as if he weren’t there, talking about how he was growing, and his mother had told how much he ate, and how good he was at reading. In similar discomfort, now, Richard shifted his pack up higher on his shoulder.Phoebe turned to him and just beamed. She reached out and touched his arm. “Listen to us go on! We shouldn’t talk about you like you weren’t here. Welcome, Richard. Welcome to the Palace of the Prophets.”silently watched the three Sisters blinking up at him. Sister Amelia giggled, and said to Sister Verna, “He doesn’t talk much, does he.”
“He talks enough,” Sister Verna said. Under her breath, she added, Thank the Creator he is quiet for now.”
“Well,” Sister Phoebe said, in a bright voice. “shall we go?”Verna frowned at her. “sister Phoebe, who are the troops I saw, the ones in the strange uniforms?”Phoebe’s brow wrinkled in thought a moment, then her eyebrows lifted. “Oh, those troops.” She dismissed it with a wave. The government was overthrown, a few years back. I guess it must have been while you were away. The Old World has a new government, again. We have an emperor, now, instead of all those kings.” She looked to Sister Janet. “What is it they call themselves?”brow creased in thought, Sister Janet’s eyes turned toward the ceiling. “Oh, yes,” she said in a demure voice. The Imperial Order. And you are quite right, Sister Phoebe; they have an emperor.” She nodded. “Yes, the Imperial Order, led by an emperor.”Phoebe shook her head in wonder. “such foolishness. Governments come, and governments go, but the Palace of the Prophets always remains. The Creator’s hand shelters us. Shall we go greet the others?”behind the three, they passed through warmly decorated passageways and halls. As far as Richard was concerned, he was in hostile territory. Threat always caused the magic of the Sword of Truth to try to seep into him, to protect him. He let in a trickle, keeping the anger on a slow burn. Sister Verna glanced sideways occasionally, as if measuring the growth of his glower.last, they went through a pair of thick walnut doors that opened into a vast chamber. They had to pass under a low ceiling and between white columns with gold capitals, before entering under a huge, vaulted dome painted with immense scenes of people in robes surrounding a glowing figure. Two levels of balconies with, ornate stone railings ringed the circular room. Stained-glass windows lit the top balcony from behind. The floor of the room was made up of small, light and dark wood squares laid out in a zigzag pattern. The hum of well over a hundred voices echoed around the chamber.stood in bunches around the floor and more lined the balconies. Scattered among the women on the second level were some men and boys. The women, all Sisters of the Light, he presumed, were dressed in finery. There seemed to be no pattern; their dresses were of every color, with designs ranging from conservative to revealing. The boys and men were dressed in everything from plain robes to coats as elaborate as Richard imagined any lord or prince would wear.buzz of talking died out as everyone began turning to the new arrivals. As the room fell to silence, applause started, swelling into a roar.Phoebe took a few steps toward the center of the room, raising her hand, calling for silence. The applause died out in spurts.
“Sisters,” Sister Phoebe said, her voice trembling with excitement, “please welcome Sister Verna home.” The applause roared again and, after a few moments, the hand brought it to silence once more. “And may I present our newest student, our newest child of the Creator, our newest charge.” She turned, holding her hand out, wiggling her fingers, indicating she wanted Richard to step forward. He took three strides to her, Sister Verna going with him.Phoebe leaned close and whispered. “Richard…? Do you have any more to your name?”hesitated a moment. “Cypher.”turned back to the crowd. “Please welcome Richard Cypher to the Palace of the Prophets.”clapping started again. Richard glowered as every face watched him. Women near pressed closer, to get a better look at him. There were women of all ages and descriptions in the crowd, ranging from some who looked old enough to be kindly grandmothers to some hardly old enough to be called women, with those of every age in between. They ranged from plump to skinny, with hair as different as their dress, with every color from blonde to black. Their eyes, too, were of every color.noticed one woman who stood near him. She had a warm smile on her reed-thin lips, and strange, pale blue eyes with violet flecks through them. She was looking at him as if he were an old, dear friend, whom she loved, and hadn’t seen in years. She was applauding enthusiastically, and elbowing a haughty woman next to her to join in the clapping, until the other finally did.stood with his arms at his sides as he studied the layout of the room, noting exits, passageways, and placement of guards. As the applause died out, a young woman in a dress the same shade of blue as Kahlan’s wedding dress worked her way through the crowd. The blue dress had a round neck, decorated with white lace that ran down to the narrow waist and matched that on the cuffs.approached, coming to a halt right in front of him. Perhaps five years younger than he, and a head shorter, she had full, soft brown hair that reached to her shoulders, and big, brown eyes.gaped at him. With each slow breath, her bosom swelled at the lace. Her hand floated up. Her delicate fingers brushed his cheek, and stroked down his beard. She seemed transfixed as she stared up at him, stroking his beard.Creator has indeed heard my prayers,” she whispered to herself.seemed to suddenly remember where she was and snatched her hand back. Her face flushed red.
“I’m… I’m,” she stammered. She regained her composure, her face recovering its smooth complexion. She clasped her hands before herself and turned, as if nothing had happened, to address Sister Verna. “I am Pasha Maes, novice, third rank. I am next in line to be named. I have been placed in charge of Richard.”Verna gave her a small, tight smile. “I think I remember you, Pasha. I’m pleased to see you have studied hard and done well. Richard is passed out of my hands, now, and into yours. May the Creator gently hold you both in His hands.”smiled proudly and then turned to Richard. She cast a glance down the length of him. She looked up, batted her eyelashes at him, and gave him a warm smile.
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