Wizard's First Rule - Terry Goodkind [100]
The candles lit her face softly, a small glow in the darkness. Reflections of the flames danced in her eyes. He knew she didn’t like saying these things to him.
“Kahlan, I’m the Seeker, I understand the weight of that responsibility. I will do anything required to stop Darken Rahl. Anything. You can place your faith in that. I will not, however, spend the lives of my friends easily. For now we have enough to worry about. Let’s not invent new things.”
Rain dripped into the water from trees, sending hollow echoes through the darkness. She put her hand on his arm, as if to say she was sorry. He knew she had nothing to be sorry for; she was only trying to face the truth, one possible truth, anyway. He wanted to reassure her.
“If they don’t get better,” he said, holding her eyes with his, “and if there is a safe place to leave them, with someone we can trust, then we will do so and go on.”
She nodded. “That is all I meant.”
“I know.” He finished his apple. “Why don’t you get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said, indicating the heart hounds with a nod of her head, “not with them watching us like that. Or with snakes all around.”
Richard smiled at her. “All right, then, how about if you help me build the litters for the horses to pull? That way we can get out of here in the morning as soon as the hounds are gone.”
She returned the smile and got up. Richard retrieved a wicked-looking war axe from Chase and found it worked as well on wood as on flesh and bone. He wasn’t at all sure Chase would approve of putting one of his prize weapons to use in this fashion; in fact, he knew he wouldn’t. He smiled to himself. He couldn’t wait to tell him. In his mind he could picture his big friend’s disapproving frown. Of course, Chase would have to embellish the story with every telling. To Chase, a story without embellishment was like meat without gravy; just plain dry.
His friends had to get better, he told himself. They just had to. He couldn’t bear it if they died.
It was several hours before they were finished. Kahlan stayed close to him, as she was afraid of the snakes, and the heart hounds watched them the whole time. For a while Richard had thought to use Chase’s crossbow to try to get some of the hounds, but finally decided against it: Chase would be angry at him for squandering valuable bolts to no purpose. The hounds couldn’t get them, and would be gone with the light.
When they were finished, they checked the other two, then sat down together again by the candles. He knew Kahlan was tired—he could hardly keep his own eyes open—but she still didn’t want to lie down to sleep, so he had her lean against him. In no time her breathing slowed and she was asleep. It was a fitful sleep; he could tell she was having bad dreams. When she started whimpering and jerking, he woke her. She was breathing rapidly, and almost in tears.
“Nightmares?” he asked, stroking her hair reassuringly with the backs of his fingers.
Kahlan nodded against him. “I was dreaming about the thing from the boundary that was around my legs. I dreamt it was a big snake.”
Richard put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her tight against him. She didn’t object, but pulled her knees up and put her arms around them as she nuzzled against him. He worried that she could hear his heart pounding. If she did, she didn’t say anything and was soon fast asleep again. He listened to her breathing, to the frogs, and to the rain. She slept peacefully. He closed his fingers around the tooth under his shirt. He watched the heart hounds. They watched back.
She woke sometime near morning when it was still dark. Richard was so tired he had a headache. Kahlan insisted he lie down and sleep while she kept watch. He didn’t want to; he wanted to continue holding her, but was too sleepy to argue.
When she gently shook him awake it was morning. Weak, gray light filtered through the dark green of the swamp and through heavy mist that made the world seem small and close. The water around them looked