Wizard's First Rule - Terry Goodkind [395]
Michael sagged in relief. The Seeker stiffened. “But I cannot forgive what you have done against others. Others have forfeited their lives because of the things you have done. It is for those crimes that you are to be executed, not the ones against me.”
Michael screamed and cried as Chase dragged him away. Richard watched in pain, shaking, as his brother was taken to his execution.
Zedd placed his hand over Richard’s on the Agiel. “Let it go, Richard.”
Richard’s thoughts masked the pain it was giving him. He looked to Zedd, standing before him with his bony, leathery hand over his, saw things in his friend’s eyes he had never seen before, a shared understanding of the pain. He released the Agiel.
Kahlan’s eyes went to it as it fell against his chest. “Richard, do you have to keep that?”
“For now, I do. It was a promise I made to one who I killed. One who helped teach me how much I love you. Darken Rahl thought this would defeat me. Instead, it taught me how to defeat him. If I discard it now, I would be denying what is inside me, what I am.”
Kahlan put her hand on his arm. “Right now, I don’t understand, but someday, I hope I will.”
Richard looked around the Garden of Life, thinking about Darken Rahl’s death, and about his father’s death. He had seen justice done. He grieved a moment when his memories touched his father. But then the pain lifted as he realized that he had completed the task his father had given him. Richard had remembered every word of the secret book perfectly. His duty was done. His father could rest in peace.
Zedd straightened his robes with a huff. “Bags! A place this big must have something to eat, don’t you suppose?”
Richard grinned, put one arm around each of them as he led them out of the Garden of Life. He took them to a dining hall he remembered. People sat at tables as if nothing had changed. The three of them found a table in the corner. Servers brought plates of rice, vegetables, brown bread, cheese, and bowls of steaming spice soup. The surprised but smiling servers kept bringing more as Zedd resolutely emptied the plates of food.
Richard tried the cheese, and to his surprise found it had a sickening flavor. He threw it back on the table as he made a sour face.
“What’s the matter?” Zedd asked.
“That has to be the worst-tasting cheese I’ve ever eaten!”
Zedd sniffed it and took a bite. “Nothing wrong with the cheese, my boy.”
“Fine, then you eat it.”
Zedd was only too happy to comply. Richard and Kahlan ate spice soup and brown bread, and smiled as they watched their old friend eat. Zedd had his fill at last, and they resumed their journey out of the People’s Palace.
As they strode through the halls, the bells tolled in a single, long peal, calling people to the devotion. Kahlan watched with a frown as everyone gathered at the squares, bowing to the center, chanting. Since Richard had changed the words in his devotion, he no longer felt the pull, the nervous need to join the people. They passed a number of squares as they continued on, each filled with people chanting. Richard wondered if he should do something about it, stop them somehow, but decided at last he had already done the most important part.
The three emerged from the cavernous halls out into the winter sunlight. The hillside of steps cascaded down before them, to the huge expanse of courtyard. The three paused at the brink. Richard gasped when he saw the numbers gathered there.
Spread out before them were thousands of men, standing tall in rank upon rank. At the head, at the base of the steps, stood Michael’s personal guard, formerly known as the Home Guard, before Michael took that name from them. Their mail, shields, and yellow banners shone brightly in the sun. Behind them, nearly a thousand men of the Westland army. Behind them, many more of the D’Haran forces. Chase stood before them all, his arms folded, looking up the steps. Next to him, planted in the ground, was a pole with Michael’s head atop it. Richard stood, stunned by the silence. If a man in the back, a half