y loved  ones  by  not  eating meat--in
essence, saying my self-defense, my killing of those who attack me and other
innocent people, was morally wrong, and so for the killing I'd done I needed
to make amends to the magic that helped me by offering it the appeasement of
balance."
     "But your sword's magic didn't work, either," Jennsen said.
     "No,  it  didn't, and  that  should have been  the thing that  made  me
realize what the problem was, because both my gift and the sword's magic are
different entities, yet they reacted logically to the same unreasoned action
on my part. The sword's magic began  to fail because I myself, by not eating
meat,  was saying that I did not completely believe that I  was justified in
using force to stop others who initiate violence.
     "The  sword's  magic  functions  through the belief  structure  of  the
sword's owner; it only works against what the  Seeker himself  perceives  as
the  enemy. The sword's  magic  will not work against a friend. That was the
key I should have understood.
     "When I thought that the use of the sword had to be balanced, I was, in
effect, expressing a  belief that my  actions  were in some way unjustified.
Therefore, because I held that remnant of faith in a false concept  that had
been inculcated in me throughout my life, just as all the people of Bandakar
were taught--that  killing was always wrong--the sword's magic began to fail
me.
     "The Sword of Truth's  magic,  as  my gift, could only again  be viable
when I  comprehended--completely--that the  magic  needs no balance  for the
killing I've done because the killing I've  done is not only  moral, but the
only moral course of action I could have taken.
     "By not eating meat, I was acknowledging  that  some  part  of my  mind
believed  the same thing  that  the people here in Bandakar believed when we
first met Owen and his men--that killing is always wrong.
     "By thinking that I must  not eat meat  as a balance, I was denying the
moral  necessity of self-preservation,  denying  the essential of protecting
the  value of life. The  very act of seeking 'balance' for what I'm right in
doing is a  conflict which is what was causing the headaches and also caused
the Sword of Truth's power to fail me. I was doing it to myself."
     Richard had violated the  Wizard's First Rule by believing a lie-- that
it  was always wrong to  kill--because  he feared it  was  true. He had also
violated the Second  Rule, among others, but most  grievous  of all, he  had
violated  the Sixth Rule. In  so doing, he  had  ignored reason in  favor of
blind faith.  The failure of  his gift  and the  sword's  power was a direct
result of not applying reasoned thought.
     Fortunately, with the Eighth Rule, he had come to reexamine his actions
and finally realized  the  flaw in his thinking.  Only  then was  he able to
correct the situation.
     In the end, he had fulfilled the Eighth Rule.
     Richard shifted his weight to the  other foot as  he gazed at the faces
watching  him. "I had to come to understand  that my  actions  are moral and
need no balance, but are in themselves balanced by my reasoned actions, that
killing is sometimes not only justified, but the only right  and moral thing
to do.
     "I had to  come to understand the very thing I was asking all of you to
understand. I had to understand that I must deserve victory."
     Owen looked  over at those with him and then scratched his head. "Well,
considering everything, I guess we  can understand how you could make such a
misjudgment."
     Jennsen, her  red hair standing out against the green  of the trees and
fields, squinted at him in the sunlight.  "Well," she said with a sigh, "I'm
glad to be pristinely ungifted. Being a wizard sounds awfully hard."
     The men all nodded while voicing their agreement.
     Richard smiled at Jennsen. "A  lot of things in life are hard to figure
out. Like what you've been considering. What have you decided?"
     Jennsen clasped her hands and glanced over at  Owen, Anson, and all the
rest of the people with them.
     "Well,  this is no longer a  banished empire. It's no longer  an empire
naked to the aggression  of  tyrants. It's part of the D'Haran Empire,  now.
These people want the same as us.
     "I think I'd like  to stay with them for a while and help  them come to
be part of  the  wider world, just as I've been starting to do. It's kind of
exciting. I'd like to take your suggestion, Richard, and help them in that."
     Richard smiled at  his  sister. He  ran his hand down her beautiful red
hair.
     "On a condition," she added.
     Richard let his hand drop back. "Condition?"
     "Sure. I'm a Rahl,  so ... I was kind of thinking that I ought  to have
some proper protection.  I  could be a target, you know. People want to kill
me. Jagang would love to--"
     Richard laughed as he drew her into a hug with one arm to silence her.
     "Tom, being as you are  a protector to the House of RahJ, I'm assigning
you to protect my sister, Jennsen Rahl. It's an important job and it means a
great deal to me."
     Tom lifted an eyebrow. "Are you sure, Lord Rahl?"
     Jennsen swatted him with the back of her hand. "Of coursldie's sure. He
wouldn't say it unless he was sure."
     "You heard the lady," Richard said. "I'm sure."
     The big blond  D'Haran smiled with a boyish grin.  "All right, then.  I
swear I will protect her, Lord Rahl."
     Jennsen gestured vaguely back at the men and the town behind her.
     "Since I've been with them, they have come to see that I'm not a witch,
and Betty is not a spirit guide--although for a time there I was afraid they
might be right about Betty."
     Richard peered down at  the  goat. Betty cocked her head. "I guess none
of us but Betty knew the truth of what Nicholas was up to." At the  sound of
her  name, Betty's ears pricked  forward and her  tail  went into  a  fit of
expectant wagging.
     Jennsen  patted Betty's round middle. "Now that these people understand
that I'm  not a witch, but I  do  share some of their  traits, I suggested I
might play an important  role." She drew the knife at  her  belt and held it
up, showing Richard the  ornate letter "R" engraved on the silver handle. "I
suggested that I be the official representative of the House of Rahl--if you
approve."
     Richard grinned. "I think that's an excellent idea."
     "I think that would be wonderful, Jennsen."  Kahlan pointed to the east
with her chin. "But don't wait too long before you get back to Hawton to see
Ann  and Nathan. They will  be a valuable help in  insuring that  the people
here are no longer the prey of the Imperial Order. They will help you."
     Jennsen twisted her fingers together. "But aren't they going to want to
be going with the both of you? Helping you?"
     "Ann  thinks  she should direct  Richard's life," Kahlan said. "I don't
think some of her directions have been  the best thing." She slipped her arm
through Richard's. "He is the Lord Rahl, now. He needs to do things his way,
not theirs."
     "They both feel responsible for us," Richard explained. "Nathan Rahl is
a  prophet. Prophecy, because of the way it functions, actually does require
balance. The  balance  to  Prophecy is free will. I  am the balance.  I know
those two don't like  it, but I think I need to be free of them--for now. at
least.
     "But there is more to it. I  think it's  more important that they  help
the people  here, first.  We already know the uses to which  Jagang will put
the pristinely ungifted. I  think it's vital that these people here, who are
willing  to  value  and  protect the  freedom they've  won,  are given  some
guidance in how to do that.
     "Ann and Nathan will be able to set up defenses that  will help protect
the people here. They will also be valuable in teaching you the history that
is important for you to know."
     After Richard picked  up his  pack  and slipped  his  arms  through the
straps, Owen gripped Richard's hand. "Thank you, Lord Rahl, for  showing  me
that my life is worth living."
     Marilee stepped forward and hugged him. "Thank you for teaching Owen to
be worthy of me."
     Richard laughed. Owen  laughed.  Cara gave Marilee an approving clap on
the back. And then all the men laughed.
     Betty pushed in and with a flurry of tail wagging  got the point across
that she didn't want to be left out.
     Richard knelt down  and scratched  Betty's ears.  "And  you, my friend,
from now on I don't want you letting any Slides using you to spy on people."
     Betty pushed  her head against his chest as  he scratched her ears, and
bleated as if to say she was sorry.




        CHAPTER 67


     Alone  at  last beneath  the  vast  blue  sky,  the  soaring  walls  of
snowcapped mountains, and in among  the trees, Richard felt good about being
on their way. He would miss Jennsen, but it was only for a time. It would do
her good to  be on her own,  yet among people  also discovering how to  live
their own lives as they learned more about the wider world. He knew he would
not trade  away all he had learned  since  he'd left his  sheltered  life in
Hartland. If not for that, he wouldn't be with Kahlan.
     It felt good to walk and stretch his legs. He hitched his bow up higher
on his shoulder as they made their way through  the dappled  sunlight of the
hushed forest floor. After  being so close to death as well as to losing his
ability  to see, he  found everything  more vibrant. The mosses  looked more
lush, the leaves more shimmery, the towering pines more awe-inspiring.
     Kahlan's eyes seemed more green, her hair softer, her smile warmer.
     As  much as he at  one time  had  hated the  fact that he had been born
gifted, he was now relieved to have his gift back. It was  part of him, part
of who he was, part of what made him the individual he was.
     Kahlan had  once  asked him  if he wished she had been born without her
Confessor's power. He had told her that he would never wish that, because he
loved her for who she  was. There was no way  to separate out the parts of a
person. That was to deny their individuality. He  was no different. His gift
was part of who he was. His abilities touched everything he did.
     His problem with his gift was of his own making. The magic of the Sword
of  Truth had helped him understand that by failing him. In so doing, it had
revealed his own failure to recognize the truth.
     To  have  it back at his  hip, and to know that  it  was once again  in
harmony  with  him  and  ready  to  defend him and  those  he loved,  was  a
comforting feeling--not because he wished to fight, but because he wished to
live.
     The day was warm and they  made good  time climbing the rocky  trail up
into the pass. By the time they  reached the  crown of the notch through the
formidable mountains,  it was colder,  but without a biting wind it was  not
unpleasant.
     At  the  top  of the  pass they stopped to gaze  up  at  the statue  of
Kaja-Rang, sitting  where it had  been  for thousands  of  years, all alone,
keeping vigil over an empire of those who once could not see evil.
     In some  ways, the statue's presence  was a monument  to failure. Where
Kaja-Rang and his people had failed to  get these  people  to see the truth,
Richard had succeeded--but not without Kaja-Rang's help.
     Richard  put his  hands  on  the  cold  granite,  on  the  words--Taiga
Vas-sternich--that had helped save his life.
     "Thank you," he whispered  up at the face of the man staring off toward
the Pillars of Creation, where Richard had discovered his sister.
     Cara placed her  hands over the words, and Richard was surprised to see
her  look  up at the statue and  say, "Thank  you for helping to  save  Lord
Rahl."
     After they started descending the pass, first crossing  the open ledges
and then  making it down into the dense  woods, Richard  heard the call of a
pewee, the signal he had taught Cara that had served them so well.
     "You know," Cara said as  she led them down the  rocky ground beside  a
small stream, "Anson knows a lot about birds."
     Richard stepped carefully among the tangle of cedar roots. "Really."
     "Yes. While you  were recovering we spent time talking." She put a hand
against  the fibrous  bark  of  the  reddish  trunk  of a cedar to keep  her
balance. She  pulled her long blond braid forward over her  shoulder  as she
started out again, running her hand down the length of the braid.
     "He complimented me on my bird whistle," Cara said.
     Richard glanced to Kahlan. She shrugged to let him know that she didn't
have any idea what Cara was getting at.
     "I told you that you learned it well," Richard said.
     "I told  him that  you taught it to me, that  it  was the call  of  the
short-tailed pine  hawk.  Anson said  that there  wasn't any such  bird as a
short-tailed pine hawk. He said the  call I used as  a signal--the call  you
taught me--wa"a common wood pewee. Me, a Mord-Sith, using the call of a bird
named a pewee. Imagine that."
     They walked in silence for a moment.
     "Am I in trouble?" Richard finally asked.
     "Oh, yes," Cara answered.
     Richard couldn't help smiling but he made sure the Mord-Sith didn't see
it, nor.  did Cara see Kahlan look back over  her shoulder  with the special
smile she gave no other but him.
     Kahlan lifted an arm, pointing. "Look."
     Through the gaps in the crowns of the cedars, against  the bright  blue
sky,  they saw a black-tipped race  circling high  above  them,  riding  the
mountain  air currents. The races were  no longer hunting them. This one was
simply looking for its dinner.
     "What's  that old saying?" Cara asked. "Something  about a bird of prey
circling over you at the beginning of a journey being a warning sign."
     "Yes, that's right," Richard said. "But I'm not  going  to let that old
tale bother me; we'll let you come with us anyway."
     Kahlan  laughed and  received a scolding scowl. Kahlan laughed  all the
more when  Richard started laughing, too. Cara couldn't hold out, and as she
turned back to the trail, Richard saw the smile spread across her face.

     The End Of Naked Empire.