Wizard's First Rule - Terry Goodkind [344]
“If you are trying to convince me George Cypher is not my father, you have failed. If you are trying to convince me you are mad, you needn’t bother. That much I already know.”
“My dear boy,” Rahl laughed, “I couldn’t care less who you believe your father to be. Nonetheless, there is a wizard’s web hiding the truth from you.”
“Really? I’ll play along. Who’s my father, if it’s not George Cypher?”
“I wouldn’t know.” Rahl shrugged. “The web hides it. But from what I’ve seen, I have my suspicions.” The smile left. “What does the Book of Counted Shadows say?”
Richard shrugged. “That’s your question? You disappoint me.”
“How so?”
“Well, after what was done to your bastard father, I thought sure you’d want to know the old wizard’s name.”
Darken Rahl glared as he slowly licked his fingertips. “What is the old wizard’s name?”
It was Richard’s turn to smile. He spread his arms wide. “Cut me open. It’s written on my guts. You will have to find it there.”
Richard kept the smirk on his face; he knew he was defenseless and was hoping Rahl would be driven to kill him. If he was dead, the book died with him. No box, no book. Rahl was going to die; Kahlan would be safe then. That was all that mattered.
“In one week, it will be the first day of winter, and I will know the name of the wizard, and have the power to snatch him from wherever he is, and bring his hide to me.”
“In one week, you will be dead. You have only two boxes.”
Darken Rahl licked his fingers again and smoothed them over his lips. “I have two right now, and the third is on its way here, as we speak.”
Richard tried not to believe him, let his face show nothing. “A brave boast. But a lie, nonetheless. In one week, you are going to die.”
Rahl raised his eyebrows. “I speak the truth. You have been betrayed. The same one who has betrayed you to me has also betrayed the box to me. It will be here in a few days.”
“I don’t believe you,” Richard said flatly.
Darken Rahl licked his fingertips and turned, walking around the circle of white sand. “No? Let me show you something.”
Richard followed him to a wedge of white stone upon which sat a flat slab of granite held up by two short fluted pedestals. In the center of the slab sat two of the boxes of Orden. One was ornately jeweled like the one Richard had seen before. The other was as black as the night stone, its surface a void in the light of the room: the box itself, its protective covering removed.
“Two of the boxes of Orden,” Rahl announced, holding his hand out to them. “Why would I want the book? The book would be useless to me without the third box. You had the third box. The one who betrayed you told me so. If the box were not on its way, why would I need the book? I would instead cut you open to get the location of the box.”
Richard shook with anger. “Who betrayed me and the box? Tell me the name.”
“Or what? Or you will cut me open and read the name on my guts? I will not betray the name of one who has helped me. You are not the only one with honor.”
Richard didn’t know what to believe. Rahl was right about one thing. He wouldn’t need the book if he didn’t have all three boxes. Someone really had betrayed him. It was impossible, but it must be true.
“Just kill me,” Richard said in a weak voice, turning away. “I’m not going to tell you. You might as well cut me open.”
“First you must convince me you are telling the truth. You could be deceiving me that you really know the whole book. You may have read just the first page, and burned the rest, or simply be inventing what you have told me of it.”
Richard folded his arms and looked back over his shoulder. “And what possible reason could I have for wanting you to believe me?”
Rahl shrugged. “I thought you cared about this Confessor. Kahlan. I had thought you cared what happened to her. You see, if you can’t convince me that you are telling the truth, then I will have to cut her open, and have a look at her entrails, see if they