Naked Empire

Kahlan thought that he meant because of the poison, but he could have had the gift in mind. She could see how much pain he was in because of the headache caused by the gift. She ached to hold him, to comfort him, to make him better, but she couldn't make it all just go away; they had to find the solutions. She glanced at the small figure of Richard standing on the base of the statue. Half of that figure was as dark as a night stone, as dark and dead as the deepest part of the underworld itself.

Tom swung his pack up over his shoulder. "Take care of them for me, will you, Cara?" he asked with a wink. She smiled her agreement. "I'll see you all in a few days, then." He waved his farewell, his gaze lingering on Jennsen, before shepherding Owen around the statue and toward the man's homeland.

Cara folded her arms and leveled a look at Jennsen. "You're a fool if you don't go kiss him a good journey."

Jennsen hesitated, her eyes turning toward Richard.

"I've learned not to argue with Cara," Richard said.

Jennsen smiled and ran over the ridge to catch Tom before he was gone.

Betty, at the end of a long rope, scampered to follow after.

Richard stuffed the small figure of himself into his pack before picking up his bow from where it leaned against the statue. "We'd better get down into the trees and set up a camp."

Richard, Kahlan, and Cara started down the rise toward the concealing safety of the huge pines. They had been long enough out in the open, as far as Kahlan was concerned. It was only a matter of time before the races came in search of them-before Nicholas came looking for them.

As cold as it was up in the pass, Kahlan knew they didn't dare build a fire; the races could spot the smoke and then find them. They needed instead to build a snug shelter. Kahlan wished they could find a wayward pine to protect and hide them for the night, but she had not seen any of those down in the Old World and wishing wasn't going to grow one.

As she stepped carefully on dry patches of rock, avoiding the snow so as not to leave tracks, she checked the dark clouds. It was always possible that it might warm just a little and that the precipitation could turn to rain. Even if it didn't, it still would be a miserably cold night.

Jennsen, Betty following behind, returned, catching up with them as they zigzagged down through the steep notches of ledge. The wind was getting colder, the snow a little heavier.

When they reached a flatter spot, Jennsen caught Richard's arm.

"Richard, I'm sorry. I don't mean to be angry with you. I know you didn't banish those people. I know it's not your fault." She gathered up the slack on Betty's rope, looping it into coils. "It just makes me angry that those people were treated like that. I'm like them, and so it makes me angry."

"The way they were treated should make you angry," Richard said as he started away, "but not because you share an attribute with them."

Taken aback by his words, even looking a little hurt, Jennsen didn't move. "What do you mean?"

Richard paused and turned back to her. "That's how the Imperial Order thinks. That's how Owen's people think. It's a belief in granting disembodied prestige, or the mantle of guilt, to all those who share some specific trait or attribute.

"The Imperial Order would like you to believe that your virtue, your ultimate value, or even your wickedness, arises entirely from being born a member of a given group, that free will itself is either impotent or nonexistent. They want you to believe that all people are merely interchangeable members of groups that share fixed, preordained characteristics, and they are predestined to live through a collective identity, the group will, unable to rise on individual merit because there can be no such thing as independent, individual merit, only group merit.

"They believe that people can only rise above their station in life when selected to be awarded recognition because their group is due an indulgence, and so a representative, a stand-in for the group, must be selected to be awarded the badge of self-worth. Only the reflected light off this badge, they believe, can bring the radiance of self-worth to others of their group.

"But those granted this badge live with the uneasy knowledge that it's only an illusion of competence. It never brings any sincere self-respect because you can't fool yourself. Ultimately, because it is counterfeit, the sham of esteem granted because of a connection with a group can only be propped up by force.

"This belittling of mankind, the Order's condemnation of everyone and everything human, is their transcendent judgment of man's inadequacy.

"When you direct your anger at me for having a trait borne by someone else, you pronounce me guilty for their crimes. That's what happens when people say I'm a monster because our father was a monster. If you admire someone simply because you believe their group is deserving, then you embrace the same corrupt ethics.