Chainfire: Chainfire Trilogy Part 1

These men before him saw through the empty ideas and corrupt promises of the Order, saw it for what it was: tyranny. They had decided to take back their lives. That made them warriors in the struggle for freedom.

A surprised upwelling of shouted greetings and cries of delight broke the early-morning stillness. As they gathered in close, the men all talked at once, asking if he was well and how he felt. Their sincere concern touched him. Despite his sense of urgency, Richard forced himself to smile and clasp arms with men he knew from the city of Altur'Rang. This was more the kind of reunion they had been hoping for.

Besides having worked beside many of these men and having become acquainted with others, Richard knew that he was also a symbol of liberty to them —the Lord Rahl from the New World, the Lord Rahl from a land where men were free. He had shown them that such things were possible for them, too, and given them a vision of the way their lives could be.

To his own mind, Richard saw himself as the same woods guide he had always been-even if he had been named the Seeker and now led the D'Haran Empire. While he had gone through many trying times since leaving home, he was really the same person with the same beliefs. Where he had once stood up to bullies, he now had to face armies. While the scale was different, the principles were the same.

But right then, all he cared about was finding Kahlan. Without her, the rest of the world-life itself-didn't seem very important to him.

Not far off, leaning against a post, stood a brawny man wearing not a smile but a menacing glare that had set permanent creases in his brow. The man folded his powerful arms across his chest as he watched the rest of the men greeting Richard.

Richard hurried through the crowd of men, clasping hands as he went, toward the scowling blacksmith. "Victor!"

The scowl gave way to a helpless grin. The man gripped arms with Richard. "Nicci and Cara would only let me go in to see you twice. If they didn't let me see you this morning, I was going to wrap iron bars around their necks."

"Was that you-the first morning? You passed me on your way out and touched my shoulder?"

Victor grinned as he nodded. "It was. I helped carry you back here." He put a powerful hand on Richard's shoulder and gave him an experimental shake. "You look well mended even if a little pale. I have lard-it will give you strength."

"I'm fine. Maybe later. Thanks for helping bring me in here. Listen, Victor, have you seen Kahlan?"

Victor's brow bunched back up with deep creases. "Kahlan?"

"My wife."

Victor stared without reaction. His hair was cropped so close that his head almost appeared shaved. The rain beaded on his scalp. One brow arched.

"Richard, since you have been gone you took a wife?"

Richard anxiously looked over his shoulder to the other men watching him. "Have any of you seen Kahlan?"

He was greeted with blank expressions from many. Others shared a puzzled look with one another. The gray morning had fallen silent. They didn't know who he was talking about. Many of these men knew Kahlan and should have remembered her. Now they were shaking their heads or shrugging their regrets.

Richard's mood sank; the problem was worse than he thought. He had thought that maybe it was only something that had happened to Nicci and Cara's memory.

He turned back to the master blacksmith's frown. "Victor, I have trouble and I don't have time to explain. I don't even know how I would explain. I need help."

"What can I do?"

"Take me to the place where we had the fight."

Victor nodded. "Easy enough."

The man turned and started out toward the dark woods.

CHAPTER 4

With two fingers, Nicci pushed a wet balsam bough out of her way as she followed several of the men through the dense woods. At the edge of a thickly forested ridge they headed down a trail that switched back and forth in order to negotiate the steep descent. Slippery rocks made the climb down treacherous. It was a shorter route than the one they had used to carry Richard back to the deserted farmhouse after he'd been hurt. At the bottom they picked their way over exposed fractured rock and boulders, skirting the fringe of a boggy area guarded by a towering cluster of silvered skeletons of cedars standing vigil in the stagnant water.

Runnels pouring down mossy banks carved deep cuts through the forest loam to expose speckled granite beneath. Several days of steady rain had left standing ponds in a number of low places. For the most part the rain filled the woods with the pleasing fragrance of damp soil, but in low places and crannies the damp, decomposing vegetation smelled of rot.

Even though she was warm from the short, arduous trek, the damp, cool air still left Nicci's fingers and ears numb with cold. She knew that this far south in the Old World the heat and humidity would soon return with such vengeance that it would make her long for the unusual spell of cool weather.