Wizard's First Rule - Terry Goodkind [370]
“More than you could ever know, Michael.” He sat down on the cot. Michael returned cautiously to his chair. Dressed in his baggy white trousers and shirt, a gold belt at his waist, he looked like a disciple of Darken Rahl. Richard noticed the maps his brother had been looking at. Maps of Westland. Maps of Westland, for Darken Rahl. “I was in D’Hara, just as Zedd told you, but I escaped. We have to get away from D’Hara. As far away as possible. I must go get the others, before they go there looking for me. You can take your men back now, take the army back and protect Westland. Thank you, Michael, for coming to help me.”
His brother’s smile widened. “You’re my brother. What else was I going to do?”
With the pain of betrayal burning hotly in him, Richard forced a warm smile. In some ways, this was worse than if the traitor had been Kahlan. He had grown up with Michael; they were brothers, and had shared a good portion of their lives. He had always admired Michael, always supported him, given him his unconditional love. He remembered bragging to other boys about his older brother.
“Michael, I need a horse. I must be on my way. Right now.”
“We’ll all go with you. Me and my men.” His grin widened. “Now that we’re back together, I don’t want to lose sight of you again.”
Richard jumped to his feet. “No!” He calmed his voice. “You know me, I’m used to being alone in the woods. It’s what I do best. You would only slow me down. I don’t have the time now.”
Michael stood, his eyes shifting to the tent’s opening. “I’ll not hear of it. We are…”
“No. You are First Councilor of Westland. That is your first responsibility, not watching after your little brother. Please, Michael, take the army back to Westland. I’ll be fine.”
Michael rubbed his chin. “Well, I guess you’re right. We were only going to D’Hara to help you, of course, and now that you’re safe…”
“Thank you for coming to help me, Michael. I’ll get my own horse. You go back to your work.”
Richard felt like the biggest fool that had ever lived. He should have known. He should have figured it out a long time ago. He remembered the speech Michael had given about fire being the enemy of the people. He should have known from that, if nothing else. Kahlan had tried to warn him that first night. Her suspicions that Michael was on Rahl’s side were correct. If only he had listened to his head instead of his heart.
Wizard’s First Rule: people are stupid, they believe what they want to believe. He had been the stupidest of them all. He was too angry with himself to be angry with Michael.
His refusal to see the truth was going to cost him everything. He had no choices left him now. He deserved to die.
With wet eyes held on Michael, Richard slowly dropped to one knee, and gave the loser’s salute.
Michael put his hands on his hips and smiled down. “You remember. That was a long time ago, little brother.”
Richard rose. “Not so long ago. Some things never change; I always loved you. Good-bye, Michael.”
Richard gave momentary thought, again, to killing his brother. He knew he would have to do it with the anger of the sword; he would never be able to bring himself to forgive Michael and make the blade white. For himself, maybe, but for what he had done to Kahlan, and Zedd, never. Killing Michael wasn’t as important as helping Kahlan; he couldn’t take the risk just to soothe his own stupidity. He went through the tent’s opening. Michael followed.
“At least stay and have something to eat. There are other things to discuss. I’m still not sure…”
Richard turned back, looking at his brother standing in front of the tent. A light mist had begun to fall. He realized by the look on Michael’s face that he didn’t have any intention of letting him go; he was only waiting until he could get to his men for support.
“Do it my way, Michael, please. I have to go.”
“You men,” he called to the guards, “I want my brother to stay with us, for his own protection.”
Three guards started for him. Richard leapt over