“Look at me,” he said to Caldus. The elder did not move. “Look at me while I do this!” he yelled. “Look into my eyes!” Still Caldus did not move.

“Richard,” she said. His eyes came angrily to hers. Eyes looking at her from a different world. The magic danced in them. She kept her voice even, showed no emotion. “He cannot understand you.”

“Then you tell him!”

“Callus.” He looked to her blank face. “The Seeker wishes you to look into his eyes while he does this.”

He didn’t answer, but simply looked at Richard, held by the Seeker’s glare.

Richard inhaled sharply as the sword rose swiftly into the air. She watched the tip as it paused for only an instant. Some people turned away—others shielded their children’s eyes. Kahlan held her breath and half turned to brace for an aftermath of fragments.

The Seeker screamed as he brought down the Sword of Truth. Its tip whistled through the air. The crowd gasped.

The sword stopped dead in the air, a scant inch from Caldus’s face, just as it had stopped the first time Richard had used it, when Zedd had him try to cut down the tree.

For what seemed an eternity, Richard stood, unmoving, the muscles in his arms hard as steel—then at last they relaxed, and he withdrew the blade from over Caldus, withdrew his burning stare.

His eyes unmoving, he asked Kahlan, “How do you say ‘I return your lives and your honor to you’ in their language?”

She answered quietly.

“Caldus, Surin, Arbrin, Breginderin, Hajanlet,” he announced loud enough for all to hear, “I return your lives and your honor to you.”

There was a brief moment of silence—then the Mud People erupted in a wild cheer. Richard slid the sword back into its scabbard and then helped the elders to their feet. Pale, they gave him smiles, pleased with his action, and in no small measure relieved. They turned to the Bird Man.

“We make a unanimous demand of you, most honored elder. What have you to say?”

The Bird Man stood with his arms folded. He looked from the elders to Richard and Kahlan. His eyes showed the strain of the emotional ordeal he had just witnessed. Dropping his arms to his sides, he approached Richard. The Seeker looked drained, exhausted. The Bird Man put an arm around each of their shoulders as if to congratulate them on their courage, then put a hand on each of the elders’ shoulders to let them know all was set straight. He turned and headed off, intending for them to follow. Kahlan and Richard walked behind him, Savidlin and the other elders followed behind, a royal escort.

“Richard,” she said in a low voice, “did you expect the sword to stop?”

He looked ahead as he walked, letting out a deep breath. “No.”

She had thought as much. She tried to imagine what this was doing to him. Even if he hadn’t executed the elders, he had committed to it, expected it. Though he didn’t have to live with the deed, he still had to live with the intent.

She wondered if he had done the right thing, not killing them. She knew what she would have done in his place—she would not have allowed the option of clemency. Too much was at stake. But then, she had seen more than he had. Maybe she had seen too much, was too ready to kill. You couldn’t kill every time there was a risk—risk was constant. It had to stop somewhere.

“How’s the arm?” he asked, bringing her out of her thoughts.

“It throbs like mad,” she admitted. “The Bird Man says it must be stitched together.”

Richard looked deliberately ahead as he walked next to her. “I need my guide,” he said quietly, without emotion. “You gave me a fright.”

It was as close as he would come to a reprimand. Her face burned, and she was glad he wasn’t looking at her to see it. He didn’t know what it was she could do, but he knew she had hesitated. She had almost made a fatal mistake, had put them all at risk because she hadn’t wanted him to see. He hadn’t pressed her when he had the chance, the right, just as now, he put her feelings first. Her heart felt as if it would break.

The little group stepped onto the platform of the pole building. The elders stood in the back, the Bird Man between the two of them as they faced the crowd.

The Bird Man regarded her with an intense expression. “Are you prepared to do this?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, suspicious of his tone.

“I mean that if the two of you want to become Mud People, then you must do that which is required of Mud People: respect our laws. Our ways.”

“I alone know what we are up against. I expect to die in the quest.” She kept her tone deliberately hard. “I have already escaped death more times than anyone has a right to. What we want is to save your people. We are sworn on our lives to do so. What more could be asked of us than our lives?”

The Bird Man knew she was avoiding the question and didn’t let her get away with it. “This is not something I do lightly. I do it because I know you are true in your struggle, that you mean to shield my people from the storm that comes. But I must have your help in this. You must agree to our ways. Not to please me, but out of respect for my people. They expect it.”

Her mouth was so dry she could hardly swallow. “I do not eat meat,” she lied. “You know that from when I have been here before.”

“Though you are a warrior, you are also a woman, therefore it may be excused. That much is within my power. Being a Confessor excludes you from the other.” His eyes showed that this was as far as his compromise would go. “Not the Seeker. He must do these things.”

“But…”

“You have said you will not choose him as your mate. If he will call a gathering, it must be as one of us.”

Kahlan felt trapped. If she turned him down now, Richard would be furious, for good reason. They would lose to Rahl. Being from Westland, Richard was not used to the ways of the different peoples of the Midlands. He might not willingly go along. She couldn’t take the chance. Much was at stake. The Bird Man’s eyes waited.

“We will do what your law requires,” she said, trying not to show what she really thought.

“Don’t you wish to consult the Seeker on his feelings about these things?”

She looked away, over the heads of the waiting crowd. “No.”

He took her chin in his hand and turned her face back to his.

“Then it will be your responsibility to see to it that he does as required. By your word.”

She could feel the heat of her anger rising. Richard leaned around the Bird Man.

“Kahlan, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

Her eyes went from Richard back to the Bird Man, and she gave him a nod. “Nothing. It’s all right.”

The Bird Man released her chin and turned to his people, blowing the silent whistle he carried around his neck. He began talking to them of their history, their ways, why they avoided the influence of outsiders, how they had the right to be a proud people. As he talked, doves began coming in, landing among the people.

Kahlan listened without hearing, standing still on the platform, feeling like a trapped animal. When she had thought they could win over the Mud People, and have themselves named Mud People, she hadn’t contemplated having to agree to these things. She had thought their initiation to be a mere formality, after which Richard could ask for a gathering. She hadn’t given consideration to events going this way.

Maybe she could simply not tell him some of it. He wouldn’t even know. After all, he didn’t understand their language. She would just keep quiet. It was for the best.

But other things, she thought despondently, would be all too obvious. She could feel her ears turning red, could feel a knot in the pit of her stomach.

Richard sensed that the words of the Bird Man were not yet something he needed to understand and didn’t ask for a translation. The Bird Man finished his introductory remarks, and arrived at the important part.