"This was hers. They didn't know where she came from, so Silas-he's the man who runs the house-Silas insisted I take this for the small help I offer the women there. I won't accept their money. If they had money to spare, they wouldn't be doing what they do."

Richard wasn't an expert, but the embroidered rose looked to be done with care. "Do you think she made it?"

Drefan shrugged. "Silas didn't know. Maybe she did. Maybe she saw it somewhere and bought it because it had a rose on it, like her name." He gently nibbled his thumb back and forth across the rose as he stared at it. "Drefan, what are you doing going to. . to places like that? There's no shortage of people needing healing. We have soldiers here who were wounded down by the pit. There's plenty for you lo do. Why were you going to whorehouses?"

Drefan dragged a finger down the stem of green thread. "I'm seeing to the soldiers. I go on my own time, before people are up and need me." "But why go there at all?"

Drefan's eyes welled with tears as he stared at the rose on the pillow. "My mother was a whore," he whispered. "I am the son of a whore. Some of those women have children. I could have been any one of them.

"Just like Rose, my mother took the wrong man to her bed. No one knew Rose. No one knew who she was, or where she came from. I don't even know my own mother's name-she wouldn't tell the healers she left me with. Only that she was a whore."

"Drefan, I'm sorry. That was a pretty stupid question." "No, it was a perfectly logical question. No one cares about those women, I mean cares about them as people. They get beaten bloody by the men who come to them. They catch terrible diseases. They're scorned by other people.

"Herb sellers don't want them coming into their shops-it gives them a reputation and then decent people won't come around. Many of the things those women have, even I don't know how to cure. They suffer sad, lingering deaths. Just for money. Some of them are drunks, and the men prostitute them and pay them with liquor. They're drunk all the time and don't know the difference.

"Some of them think they'll find a rich man and be his mistress. They think they will please him and gain his favor. Like my mother. Instead, they have bastard children, like me."

Richard was mentally wincing. He had been ready to believe that Drefan was an unfeeling opportunist. "Well, if it makes you feel any better. I'm the son of that bastard, too."

Drefan looked lip and smiled. "I guess so. At least your mother loved you. Mine didn't. She didn't even leave me her name."

"Don't say that, Drefan. Your mother loved you. She took you to a place where you would be safe, didn't she?"

He nodded. "And left me there with people she didn't know." "But she left you because she had to, so that you would be safe. Can you imagine how that must have hurt her? Can you imagine how it must have broken her heart to leave you with strangers? She must have loved you a great deal to do that for you."

Drefan smiled. "Wise words, my brother. With a mind like that. you might make something of yourself, someday."

Richard returned the smile. "Sometimes, we have to do desperate things to save the ones we love. I have a grandfather who has great admiration for acts of desperation. I think, with your mother. I'm beginning to understand what he means." "Grandfather?"

"My mother's father." Richard idly stroked a finger along the raised gold wire spelling out the word TRUTH On the hilt of his sword. "One of the greatest men I've ever had the honor of knowing. My mother died when I was young, and my father-the man I thought was my father-was often gone on his business as a trader. Zedd practically raised me. I guess I'm more Zedd than anyone else."

Zedd had the gift. Richard had inherited the gift not only from Darken Rahl, but also from Zedd, from his mother's side as well as his father's. From both bloodlines. Richard found comfort in knowing that the gift of a good man flowed in his veins, and not just that of Darken Rahl. "Is he still living?"

Richard looked away from Drefan's blue. Darken Rahl eyes. "I believe he is. I don't think anyone else does, but I do. Sometimes I feel like if I don't believe, then he will be dead."

Drefan laid a hand on Richard's shoulder. "Then keep believing; you may be right. You're fortunate to have a family. I know, because I don't." "You do now, Drefan. You have a brother, at least, and soon a sister-in-law." "Thanks, Richard. That means a lot to me."

"How about you? I hear you have half the women in the palace chasing after you. Any of them special?"

Drefan smiled distantly. "Girls, that's all. Girls who think they know what they want and are impressed by foolish things that shouldn't matter. I see them all batting their eyelashes at you, too. Some people are drawn to power. People like my mother." "Me! You're seeing things."

Drefan turned serious. "Kahlan is beautiful. You're a fortunate man to have a woman of such substance and noble character. A woman like that only comes along once in a lifetime, and then only if the good spirits smile on you."

"I know. I'm the luckiest man alive." Richard stared off. thinking about the prophecy, and the things he had read in Kolo's journal. "Life wouldn't be worth living without her."

Drefan laughed and slapped Richard on the back. "If you weren't my brother, and a good one besides. I'd steal her from you and have her for myself. On second thought, you'd better be careful, I may yet decide to have her." Richard smiled with him. "I'll be careful."

Drefan pointed an admonishing finger at Richard. "You treat her right." "I'd not know how lo do otherwise." Richard swept a hand out, indicating the small, simple room, and changed the subject. "What are you still doing here? We can find you better quarters than this."

Drefan gazed about at his room. "This is a king's room compared to my quarters at home. We live simply. This room is almost more ostentation than I can bear." His brow drew down. "It isn't what kind of house you have that matters. This is not happiness. It's what kind of mind you have, and how you care for your fellow man-what you can do to help others who can be helped by no one else."

Richard adjusted the bands at his wrists. They made him sweat under the leather pads. "You're right, Drefan."

He hadn't even realized it, but he had come to be used to his surroundings. Since he had left Hartland, he had seen many splendid places. His own home, back in Hartland, wasn't nearly as nice as this plain room, and he had been happy there. He had been happy being a woods guide.

But, as Drefan said, a person had to help others who could be helped in no other way. He was stuck with being Lord Rahl. Kahlan was the balance. Now, all he had to do was find the Temple of the Winds before he lost it all.

At least he had a woman he loved more than he would ever have thought possible, and now, too, he had a brother. "Drefan, do you know the meaning of Raug'Moss?" "I was taught that it's old High D'Haran, meaning 'Divine Wind. " "Do you know High D'Haran?"

Drefan brushed back his tumbled-down blond hair. "Just that word." "I hear that you're their leader. You've done well for yourself to become the leader of a community of healers."

"It's the only life I've ever known. Being the High Priest, though, mostly means that they have someone to blame when things go wrong. If someone we try to help doesn't gel better, the healers point in my direction and say, 'He is our leader. Talk to him. Being High Priest means I have to read the reports and records, and try to explain to distraught relatives that we are only healers, and we can't revoke the Keeper's call. Sounds more impressive than it is, really."

"I'm sure you exaggerate. I'm proud that you've done well. What are the Raug'Moss? Where do they come from?"