Temple of the Winds

Richard's fist tightened around the amulet at his chest. "They used a Confessor. Magda Searus. The first Mother Confessor herself." "She lived in that lime? She was there, in this war? I never knew that." Richard rubbed his fingertips across the furrows on his brow. "Lothain wouldn't tell them what he had done. The wizards conducting the trial were the ones who ordered the creation of the Confessors. Magda Searus was the first. They knew that they wouldn't be able to torture the truth out of Lothain-they tried-so they took this woman, Magda Searus, created the magic of the Confessors, and instilled the power in her.

"She touched Lothain with her power and got the truth out of him. He confessed the extent of what the temple team had done, and what he had done."

Richard looked away from her green eyes. "The wizard who did this to Magda Searus, created the Confessors' power, was named Merritt. The tribunal was so pleased with the results of Merritt's conjuring that they commanded an order of Confessors to be created, and wizards assigned to safeguard them.

"Merritt became protector to Magda Searus, her wizard, in return for the life, the duty, to which he had condemned her, to which he had condemned all the descendants of Confessors to follow."

The room fell silent. Kahlan was wearing her Confessor's face: the blank expression that showed nothing of her feelings. He didn't need to see an expression on her face to know her feelings. Richard pulled the porridge back and ate some more. It had cooled considerably.

"Richard," Kahlan finally whispered, "if these wizards, with all that power, with all that knowledge. . if even they couldn't get into the Temple of the Winds after it sent its warning with the red moons, then.. " Her voice trailed off. Richard put words to the rest of it. "Then how can I hope to?"

Richard ate lentil porridge as the uncomfortable silence dragged on. "Richard," Kahlan said in a quiet voice, "if we don't get into the temple, then what the spirit showed me will come to pass. Death will sweep the land. Untold numbers of people will die."

Richard nearly leaped lo his feet and screamed at her that he knew that. Nearly screamed, asking what she expected him to do. Instead, he swallowed back the screams along with the porridge. "I know," he whispered.

He went back to eating his porridge in silence. When he had finished, and was sure he had composed himself, he went on.

"One of the temple team, a wizard named Ricker, made a statement before they executed him." Richard pulled the piece of paper with the translation out of the disorderly stack and read it to her. " I can no longer countenance what we do with our gift. We are not the Creator, nor are we the Keeper. Even a vexatious prostitute has the right to live her life. " "What was he talking about?" Kahlan asked.

"I think that when the wizards used people-destroyed them-to create the things they needed to right the war, I think they used people who were troublesome for one reason or another-people they didn't mind destroying. I've heard it said that a wizard must use people. I doubt they knew the ghastly origin of the maxim."

He saw dismay haunting her eves.

"Richard, do you think then. from what you've read. that it's hopeless? Do you think we can do nothing, then?"

Richard didn't know what to say. He reached over and clasped her hand. "The temple team, before they were executed, said in their own defense that they hadn't sealed the temple away for good. as they might have easily done. but instead left a way in to answer the call. They said that if the need was truly great enough, it could still be entered. "I will get in. Kahlan. I swear it."

A small measure of relief came briefly to her beautiful eyes, but the haunted look settled back into them. Richard knew what she was thinking. It was the same as he'd wondered himself as he read of the madness that was the war. and of what people had done to each other.

"Kahlan, we don't use magic to destroy people for our own purposes. We use it to fight against a cause that murders helpless children. We tight for freedom from terror and killing."

A small smile returned as she squeezed his hand. They both looked up when they heard a knock on the open door. It was Drefan. "Can I come in? I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" "No, it's all right." Richard said. "Come in."

"I just wanted you to know that I ordered the carts, like you wanted. It's gotten to that point."

Richard rubbed his fingertips across his forehead. "How many?" "A little over three hundred last night, if the reports are all in. As you suspected might be the case, the people can't handle that many dead anymore, and the numbers grow each day."

Richard nodded. "We can't let the dead wait. It could spread the plague even faster to have them rotting in the open air. They have to be buried as soon as they die. Tell the men I want the dead-carts sent out just as soon as they have it organized. I give them until sunset."