Wizard's First Rule - Terry Goodkind [394]
Zedd rubbed his chin in thought, looking up at the windows. “Well, only once before that I know of.” His eyes rested on the two of them. “But you can tell no one, just as I wasn’t able to tell you. No matter how much pain it may cause, no matter the consequences, you can never tell. If even one other knows, it could be passed on, destroying forever the chance for others. It’s one of the ironies of magic; you have to accept failure before you can have success. It is also one of the burdens of magic; you must accept the results, even the death, of others, to protect the hope for the future. Selfishness costs the lives, the chances, of those yet unborn.”
Kahlan nodded. “I promise.”
“Me too,” Richard said. “Zedd, is it over? With Darken Rahl, I mean. Is he dead?”
Zedd gave Richard a look he found unexpectedly uncomfortable. “Darken Rahl is dead.” Zedd put a thin hand on Richard’s shoulder, his bony fingers gripping tightly. “You have gotten it right, Richard, all of it. You scared the wits out of me. I have never seen a performance to match it.”
Richard grinned in pride. “Just a little trick.”
Zedd nodded, his white hair sticking out in every direction, looking wild. “More than a trick, my boy. More than little.”
They all turned when they heard the sound of someone approaching. Chase came dragging Michael in by the scruff of his neck. His dirty white trousers and shirt spoke that he had not come willingly. Chase gave him a shove, forcing him in front of Richard.
Richard’s mood darkened at seeing his brother. Michael’s defiant eyes came up to meet Richard’s gaze.
“I’ll not be treated in this manner, little brother.” His voice was as condescending as it had ever been. “You don’t know what you’ve interfered with, what I was trying to do, how I would have helped everyone by uniting Westland and D’Hara. You have doomed the people to needless suffering that Darken Rahl could have spared. You are a fool.”
Richard thought about all he had been through, about all that Zedd, and Chase, and Kahlan had been through. He thought about all those he knew who had died at Rahl’s hands, and the countless number of dead he would never know of. The suffering, the cruelty, the brutality. He thought of all the tyrants allowed to flourish under Darken Rahl, all the way from Darken Rahl himself down to Princess Violet. He thought of those he had killed. He felt pain and grief at the things he had had to do.
The metallic ring of the Sword of Truth filled the air. Michael’s eyes went wide at seeing its point at his throat.
Richard leaned a little closer to his brother. “Give me the loser’s salute, Michael.”
Michael’s face turned crimson. “I would rather die first.”
Richard nodded as he straightened. He looked deep into his brother’s eyes as he took the sword away. Richard pulled the anger back, tried to make the sword turn white. It would not. He slid the blade home into its scabbard.
“I’m glad to see we have one thing in common, Michael. We would both die for what we believe in.” He took his gaze from Michael, to the big, crescent battle-axe hanging at Chase’s belt. His eyes came up to the boundary warden’s grim face. “Execute him,” he whispered. “Take his head to his personal guard. Tell them he was executed by my order, for treason against Westland. Westland will have to find a new First Councilor.”
Chase’s big fist grabbed Michael by the hair. Michael screamed out, falling to his knees, giving the loser’s salute.
“Richard! Please, I’m your brother! Don’t do this! Don’t let him kill me! I’m sorry, forgive me. I was wrong. Please, Richard, forgive me.”
Richard stared down at his brother, who was on his knees before him, his hands together, imploring. Richard held out the Agiel in his fist, feeling the pain it gave him, tolerating it, remembering it, the visions flashing through his mind. “Darken Rahl told you what he was going to do to me. You knew. You knew what was going to happen to me, and you were indifferent because it brought you personal gain. Michael, I forgive