Chainfire: Chainfire Trilogy Part 1

"You gave Kahlan that necklace as a wedding gift to both of us to prevent her from conceiving-at least for now. It was a gift that was more than that, though. It was a truce. It was peace between you and me as much as between you and Kahlan. What other truces, alliances, and oaths have been made because of Kahlan that, like the necklace, are now forgotten? How many important missions will be abandoned?

"Don't you see? This holds the potential to throw the world into turmoil. I have no idea of the possible effects of such a wide-ranging event, but for all I know it could alter the complexion of the fight for freedom. It could usher in the dawn of the Imperial Order. For all I know, it could usher in the end of life itself."

Shota looked astonished. "Life itself?"

"Something this significant does not happen randomly. It's not an unfortunate accident or some casual mistake. There has to be a cause, and anything that could cause a universal event of this enormity carries sinister implications."

For a time, Shota regarded him with an unreadable expression. She finally caught a floating corner of the layered material that made up her dress and turned away as she thought about his words. Finally she turned back.

"And what if you are simply suffering from a delusion? Since that is the simplest explanation, that makes it most likely the true answer."

"While the simplest explanation is usually the true answer, it is not infallibly so."

"This is no ordinary choice as you paint it, Richard. What you describe is extravagantly complicated. I'm having trouble even beginning to envision the complexities and consequences that would be involved in such an event. It would have to cause so many things to come undone, with such compounding disorder, that it would soon become all too obvious to everyone that something was terribly wrong in the world-even if they didn't know what. That just isn't happening."

Shota swept her arm out in grand fashion. "Meanwhile, what damage to the world will you cause because of this mad mission you have undertaken to find a woman who does not exist?

"You came to me the first time to get help in stopping Darken Rah I. I helped you, and in so doing I helped you become the Lord Rahl.

"The war rages on, the D'Haran Empire fights desperately on, and now you are not there to be a part of it, as is your place as the Lord Rahl. You have been effectively removed from your position of authority by your own delusions and unthinking actions. A void is left where there should be leadership. All the help you would be able to provide is no longer available to those who fight for the cause you have championed."

"I believe that I'm right," Richard said. "If I am, then that means there is a grave danger that no one but me is even aware of. Therefore, no one but me can fight it. Only I stand opposed to some unknown but impending ruin. I can't in good conscience ignore what I believe to be the truth of a hidden threat more monstrous than anyone realizes."

"That makes a convenient excuse, Richard."

"It's not an excuse."

Shota nodded mockingly. "And if the newly founded free empire of D'Hara falls in the meantime? If the savages of the Imperial Order raise their bloody swords over the corpses of all those brave men who will perish defending the cause of freedom while their leader is off chasing phantoms? Will all those brave men be any less dead because you alone see some inscrutable danger? Will their cause-will your cause-be any less ended? Will the world then be able to slide merrily into a long dark age where millions upon millions will be born into miserable lives of oppression, starvation, suffering, and death?

"Will chasing off after the enigma in your mind alone make liberty's grave acceptable to you, Richard? A mere consequence of what you stubbornly think is right in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary?"

Richard had no answer. In fact, he feared to even attempt to give her one. After the way she'd put it, anything he said would sound hollow and selfish. He felt sure that he had sound reasons to stick to his convictions, but he also knew that to everyone else the proof had to seem pretty thin, so he thought that maybe it was best to just keep quiet.

More than that, though, lurking beneath the surface was the terrible shadow of fear that she could be right, that it was all some dreadful delusion in his mind alone and not some problem with everyone else.

What made him right and everyone else wrong? How could he alone be right? How could such a thing even be possible? How could he know himself that he was right? What proof, other than his own memory, did he have? There was not one concrete shred of evidence that he could hold, that he could point to.

The crack in his confidence terrified him. If that crack widened, if it ruptured, the weight of the world would crash in and crush him. He couldn't bear that weight if she didn't exist.

His word alone stood between Kahlan and oblivion.