Stone of Tears

“Well, in a way, it is trading. Often, the person who wants what you have has nothing you want, so they give you money—silver or gold made into flat, round disks called coins—instead. Then you can use the money to buy things you need.”

“Buy.” Chandalen seemed to test the strange word with his tongue as he looked off down a street to their right while shaking his head in disbelief. “Why would people work, then?

Why would they not just go and get this silver or gold money?”

“Some do. They hunt silver and gold. But that is hard work, too. Gold is hard to find and dig out of the ground. That is why it is used for money: because it is rare. If it were easy to find, like grains of sand, then no one would take it in trade. If money were easy to get, or to make, it would become worthless, and then in the end this system of trade, with worthless money, would fail, and everyone would starve.”

He came to a halt with a frown. “What is this money made from? What is this silver or gold you speak of?”

She didn’t stop with him, and he had to take a few bounding steps to catch back up with her. “Gold is… The medallion, the necklace, that the Bantak gave as a gift to the Mud People, to show they did not wish to make war, that is made of gold.” Chandalen nodded with a knowing grunt. Kahlan halted this time. “do you know where the Bantak got that much gold?”

Chandalen swept his gaze across the slate rooftops. “Of course. They got it from us.”

Kahlan gripped his arm covered with his mantle and pulled him around. “What do you mean, they got it from you?”

He tensed at her touch. He didn’t like her hand—a Confessor’s hand—on him. That the fur mantle separated actual contact of flesh was of no consequence; their flesh was close enough. If she relaxed her restraint of the power, that thin piece of hide would be no impediment; Kahlan had loosed her power through armor before. She released her grip and he visibly relaxed. “Chandalen, where did the Mud People get that much gold?”

He looked at her as if she were a child asking where you might find dirt. “From the holes in the ground. In our land, to the north where it is rocky and nothing much will grow or live, there are holes in the ground. They have this gold in them. It is a bad place. The air is hot and bad. It is said that men die if they stay too long in the ground. The yellow metal is in these deep holes. It is too soft to make good weapons, so it is of no use.”

He dismissed its importance with a wave of his hand. “But the Bantak say their ancestors” spirits like the look of the yellow metal, and so we let them come onto our land and go in the holes so they may get it to make things their ancestors” spirits may like to look upon when they come to this world.”

“Chandalen, do others know of these holes in the ground, of the gold that is in them?”

He shrugged. “We do not let outsiders come to our land. But I told you, it is too soft to make weapons with, so it is of no use. It pleases the Bantak, and they are good traders with us, so we let them take what they want. They do not take much, though, because it is a bad place to go into. No one would want to go there, except the Bantak, to please their ancestors” spirits.”

How could she explain it to him? He didn’t understand the ways of the outside world. “Chandalen, you must never use this gold.” He made a face that said he had already explained how useless it was, and no one would want it. “You may think it is useless, but others would kill to get it. If people knew you had gold on your land, they would swarm over you to get it. The craving for gold makes men crazy, and they would do anything to get it. They would kill Mud People.”

Chandalen straightened with a smug expression. He took his hand from the bowstring and tapped his chest. “I, and my men, protect our people. We would keep the outsiders away.”

Kahlan swept her arm around, taking in the hundreds upon hundreds of dead around her. “Against this many? Against thousands?” Chandalen had never seen this many people. He understood little of the numbers that lived outside his lands. Thousands who would never stop coming until they swept you aside?”

His eyes followed the arc her arm had taken. His brow wrinkled with the frown of a worry unfamiliar to him, his arrogance evaporating as he took in the dead. “Our ancestors” spirits have warned us not to speak of the holes in the ground with the bad air. We only let the Bantak go there, no one else.”

“See that it stays that way,” she said. “Or they will come and steal it.”

“That would be wrong, to steal from a people.” He put renewed tension to the bowstring as she let out a noisy breath of frustration. “If I make a bow to trade, everyone knows it is the work of Chandalen, because it is such a fine bow. If anyone steals it, everyone knows what it is and where it came from, and the thief would be caught, and be made to give it back. Maybe he would be sent away from his people. How do these people tell who the money belongs to, if it is taken by a thief?”