Stone of Tears (36 page)

“Frogs.” Sister Verna looked over. “Red Frogs, yes?”

“Yes. Red spirit frogs.”

With a smile she looked back ahead. “I know of them. And it made your skin tingle, yes? And it is then you saw spirits?”

“That’s a pretty simplistic version, but I guess you could distill it down like that. What are you trying to say?”

“You have traveled the Midlands often? You have seen many of her peoples?”

“No. I’m from Westland. I don’t know much about the people of the Midlands.”

She nodded to herself again. “There are many peoples in the Midlands, unbelievers, who do not know of the light of the Creator. They worship all sorts of things. Idols and Spirits and such. They are savages who hold to customs of worship centered around these false beliefs. They mostly have one thing in common. They use sacred food or drink to help them ‘see’ their ‘Spirit protectors’.”

She looked over to make sure he was paying attention. “The Mud People apparently use the substance on the red frogs to help them have these visions of what they wish to see.”

“Visions?”

“The Creator has placed many plants and animals in our world for us to use. The power of these things work in invisible ways. A tea, for example, of the bark of willow can help reduce a fever. We can’t see it work, but we know it does. There are many things that if eaten will make us sick, even kill us. The Creator gave us minds to learn the difference. There are some things that if eaten, or in the case of the red frogs, rubbed into our skin, will make us see things, just as we see things when we dream.

“Savages who don’t know better think the things they see are real. That is what happened to you. You rubbed the slime of a red frog into your skin and it gave you visions. Your rightful fear of the Nameless One made it all the more real to you. If these ‘spirits’ were real, why would you need to use some special plant, or food, or drink, or in this case, red frogs, to see and talk to them?

“Please don’t think I am mocking you, Richard. The visions can seem very real. When you are under their influence, they can seem as real as anything. But they are not.”

Richard was reluctant to believe the Sister’s explanation, but he understood what she was talking about. From a young age, Zedd had taken him into the woods to find special plants to help people: aum to take away pain and help minor wounds heal faster, and wattle root to ease the pain of deeper wounds. Zedd had showed him other plants that would help fevers, digestion, the pain of childbirth, dizzy spells, and he had also told him about plants to avoid, plants that were dangerous, and plants that would make people see things that weren’t there: visions.

But he didn’t think he had imagined Darken Rahl. “He burned me.” Richard tapped his shirt where the bandage was. “I couldn’t have been having visions. Darken Rahl was there, he reached out and touched me, and it burned my skin. I’m not imagining that.”

The Sister gave a little shrug. “That could be one of two things. After you rubbed the frog on your skin, you couldn’t see the room you were in, could you?”

“No. It just seemed to disappear into a dark void.”

“Well, see it or not, it was still there. And I’m sure the savages would have had a fire burning when you had this gathering. And when you were burned, you were not sitting in the same place, but you were standing, moving about, yes?”

“Yes,” he admitted reluctantly.

She pursed her lips. “In the deluded state you were in, you probably fell and burned yourself on a stick in the fire and imagined that it was this spirit doing the burning.”

Richard was beginning to feel decidedly foolish. Could the Sister be right? Was it all this simple? Was he really this gullible?

“You said it could be two things. What is the other?”

The Sister rode in silence for a moment. When her voice came, it came lower, darker, than it had before. “The Nameless One always seeks to have us side with him. Though he is locked behind the veil, his tentacles can still reach into this world. He can still harm us. He is dangerous. The dark side is dangerous. When ignorant people dabble in things dark, they can call forth danger, call forth the attention of the Nameless One or his minions. It is possible you really were touched, burned, by one of the evil ones.” She glanced over. “There are dangerous things people are too foolish to avoid. Sometimes, those things can kill.”

Her voice brightened a bit. “That is one of our jobs; trying to teach those who have not yet seen the light of the Creator to go toward that light, and stay away from the things dark, and dangerous.”

Richard couldn’t think of anything to counter the Sister’s explanations of events. The things she said made sense. If she were right, that would mean that Kahlan wasn’t really in danger; that Kahlan was safe. He wanted to believe that. He desperately wanted to believe that. But still …

“I will admit that you could be right, but I’m not sure. There seems to be more to it that I can put into words.”

“I understand, Richard. It is hard to admit we have been wrong. No one wants to admit they have been tricked, or made to look the fool. That view of ourselves hurts. But part of growing, learning, is being able to hold the truth above all else, even when it means we must admit to having held foolish ideas.

“Please believe me, Richard, I do not see you as a fool for having believed as you did. Your fear was understandable. The mark of a wise person is being able to reach beyond for the truth, to admit they can learn more than they already know.”

“But all of these things are connected …”

“Are they? A wise person doesn’t string together the beads of unrelated events into a necklace simply to have something they wish to see. A wise person sees the truth even if it is something unexpected. That is the most beautiful necklace to wear—the truth.”

“The truth,” he muttered to himself. He was the Seeker. The truth was what the Seeker was all about. It was woven in gold wire into the hilt of his sword: the Sword of Truth. Something about the things that had happened were more than he could put into words for her. Could it be as she said? Could he simply be fooling himself?

He remembered the Wizard’s First Rule: people are stupid, they will believe anything, either because they want it to be true, or are afraid it might be. He knew from experience that he was as susceptible to it as anyone else. He wasn’t above believing a lie.

He had believed Kahlan loved him. He had believed she would never do anything to hurt him. And she had sent him away. Richard felt the lump rising in his throat again.

“I am telling you the truth, Richard. I am here to help you.” He didn’t answer. He didn’t believe her. As if to answer his thoughts, she asked, “How are your headaches?”

The question stunned him. Not the question so much as the realization. “They’re … gone. The headache is completely gone.”

Sister Verna smiled and nodded in satisfaction. “As I promised you, the Rada’Han would take away the headache. We only want to help you, Richard.”

His eyes turned to watch her. “You also said the collar is to control me.”

“So we may teach you, Richard. You must have a person’s attention to teach them. That is all it is for.”

“And to hurt me. You said it is to give me pain.”

She shrugged, opening her palms to the sky, the reins woven through her fingers. “I have just given you pain. I showed you how you were believing in something foolish. Does that not give you pain? Does it not hurt you to learn you have been wrong? But isn’t it better to know the truth than to believe a lie? Even if it hurts?”

He looked away, thinking of the truth of Kahlan making him put on a collar, sending him away. That truth hurt more than anything: the truth that he wasn’t good enough for her. “I guess so. But I don’t like wearing a collar. Not one bit.”

He was sick of talking. His chest hurt. His muscles were all cramped. He was tired. He missed Kahlan. But Kahlan had made him put on a collar and sent him away. He let his horse fall back to trail behind the Sister once more as tears ran down his cheeks, feeling like ice on his skin.

He rode in silence. His horse tore off wads of grass and chewed as it plodded along. Ordinarily, Richard wouldn’t have let his horse eat while it had a bit in its mouth. It couldn’t chew properly with the bit, and could end up with colic. You could lose a good horse to colic. Instead of stopping it, Richard stroked its warm neck and gave reassuring pats.

It felt good to have company that didn’t tell him he was stupid; company that didn’t judge or make demands. He didn’t feel like doing the same to the horse. Better to be a horse than a man, he thought. Walk, turn, stop. Nothing more. Better to be anything than what he was.

Despite what Sister Verna said, he knew he was nothing more than a captive. Nothing she said could change that.

If he was ever going to be set free, he would have to learn to control the gift. Once the Sisters were satisfied he could control the gift, maybe they would free him. If Kahlan didn’t want him, at least he would be free.

That was what he would do, he decided. Learn to use the gift as fast as he could, so he could get the collar off and be set free. Zedd had always told him he was a fast learner. He would learn everything. Besides, he had always liked learning. He had always wanted to know more. There was never enough for him. He brightened the slightest bit at the idea. He liked learning new things. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He could do it. Besides, what else was there?

He thought of the way Denna trained him, taught him.

His mood sank. He was just deluding himself. They would never set him free. He wasn’t going to learn because he wanted to, or what he wanted to; he was going to learn what the Sisters of the Light wanted him to learn, and he didn’t necessarily believe that what they taught was the truth. They were going to teach him about pain. It was hopeless.

He rode with his dark, brooding thoughts. He was the Seeker. The bringer of death.

Every time he killed someone with the Sword of Truth, he knew that that was what he was. That was what the Seeker did, what the Seeker was: the bringer of death.

As the sky began flaming into pinks, yellows and golds, he noticed white patches in the distance ahead. It wasn’t snow; the snow hadn’t stuck. Besides, these things moved. Sister Verna didn’t say anything about them, she simply rode along. The sun at their backs sent long shadows ahead of them. For the first time, Richard realized they were traveling east.

When they were closer, he recognized the white forms spread across their way, turning pink in the last rays of the sun. It was a small flock of sheep. As they passed among them, Richard saw that the people tending the animals were Bantak. He recognized their manner of dress

Three Bantak men approached to the side of Richard, ignoring Sister Verna. They mumbled something he didn’t understand, but their words and faces seemed to hold a certain reverence. The three dropped to their knees and bowed down, stretching their arms out, their hands on the ground toward him. Richard slowed his horse to a walk as he looked down at them. They came back up on their knees, chattering at him, but he didn’t understand the words.

Richard lifted his hand in greeting. It seemed to satisfy them. The three broke into grins and bowed a few more times as he rode past. They came to their feet and trotted next to his horse, attempting to push things into his hands: bread, fruit, strips of dried meat, a drab, dirty scarf, necklaces made of teeth, bone and beads, even their shepherd’s crooks.

Richard forced a smile and with signs he thought they would understand, tried to decline the offers without offending the men. One of the three was particularly insistent he take a melon, offering it repeatedly. Richard didn’t want trouble, so he took the melon and bowed his head several times. They seemed proud, nodding and bowing as he rode on. He gave them a last bow from his saddle as he rode past, and slipped the melon into a saddle bag.

Sister Verna had her horse turned toward him, waiting for him to catch up. She scowled as she waited. Richard didn’t hurry his horse along, he simply let go at its own pace. What now, he wondered.

When he finally reached her, she leaned toward him. “Why are they saying those things!”

“What things? I don’t understand their language.”

She gritted her teeth. “They think you are a wizard. Why would they think that? Why!”

Richard shrugged. “I would guess it is because that’s what I told them.”

“What!” She pushed the hood of her cloak back. “You are not a wizard! You have no right telling them you are! You lied!”

Richard folded his wrists over the high pommel of the saddle. “You’re right. I am not a wizard. Yes, I told them a lie.”

“Lying is a crime against the Creator!”

Richard gave a weary sigh. “I did not do it to play at being a wizard. I did it to stop a war. It was the only way I could keep a lot of people from dying. It worked and no one was hurt. I would do the same thing again if it would prevent killing.”

“Lying is wrong! The Creator hates lies!”

“Does this Creator of yours like killing better?”

Sister Verna looked like she was ready to spit fire at him. “He is everyone’s Creator. Not my Creator. And He hates lies.”

Richard calmly appraised her heated expression. “Tell you that himself, did he? Come right up and sit down next to you and say ‘Sister Verna, I want you to know I hate lies’?”

She ground her teeth and growled the words. “Of course not. It is written. Written in books.”

“Ahh,” Richard nodded. “Well then, of course it is the truth. If it is written in books, then it has to be true. Everyone knows that if something is written down and attributed, then it must be true.”

Her eyes were fire. “You treat lightly the Creator’s words.”

He leaned toward her, some of his own heat surfacing. “And you, Sister Verna, treat lightly the lives of people you consider heathens.”

She paused and with an effort calmed herself a little. “Richard, you must learn that lying is wrong. Very wrong. It is against the Creator. Against what we teach. You are as much a wizard as an infant is an old man. Calling yourself a wizard when you are not is a lie. A filthy lie. It is a desecration. You are not a wizard.”