Richard pulled Cara close. “Guard the door. None of these people comes out unless I say so.”
Cara nodded and took up a position outside the door.
“What is the meaning of this?” the man inside demanded of Owen as he gaped in fear at Richard and Kahlan.
“Great speaker, it is vital that we speak with all of you.”
The place was aglow with candles. A dozen and a half men sitting around on rugs sipping tea or leaning against pillows lining the walls abruptly fell silent.
The stone walls were the outer foundation of the building. Stone piers marched in two lines down the center of the large room, supporting fat beams far above Richard’s head. There was no decoration. It looked like little more than a basement made comfortable with rugs and pillows where the men congregated at one end of the extensive room. Simple wooden tables against the walls at one end held candles.
Some of the men rose to their feet.
“Owen,” one of them said in grave reprimand, “you have been banished. What are you doing here?”
“Honored speaker, we are well past petty issues of banishment.” Owen held out an introductory hand. “These are friends of mine, from outside our land.”
Kahlan grabbed Owen’s shirt at the shoulder and pulled his ear close as she gritted her teeth. “Antidote.”
Owen nodded apologetically. The men, all older, watched indignantly as Owen went to the corner at the far right. He grasped a stone near chest height, and twisted it side to side. Richard reached in and helped Owen wiggle the stone loose. When he finally pulled the heavy block out far enough to turn it to the side, Owen reached in behind and came out with the bottle. He wasted no time in handing it to Richard.
When Richard pulled the cork, Kahlan detected the slight aroma of cinnamon. Richard downed the contents.
“You must leave,” one of the men growled. “You are not welcome here.”
Owen didn’t back down. “We must see the Wise One.”
“What!”
“The men of the Order have invaded our land. They are torturing and murdering our people. Others they have taken away.”
“Nothing can be done about this,” the red-faced speaker said. “We do as we must so that our people can go on with their lives. We do as we must to avoid violence.”
“We have ended violence,” Owen told the man. “At least, in our town. We killed all the men of the Order who held us in the grip of fear, who raped and tortured and murdered our people. Our people there are now free of these men of the Order. We must fight back and free the rest of our people. It is your duty as speakers to do right by our people and not accommodate their enslavement.”
The great speakers were apoplectic.
“We will hear none of this!”
“We will speak of it with the Wise One and see what he has to say.”
“No! The Wise One will not see you! Never! You are all denied! You must all leave!”
One of the men came forward and angrily seized a fistful of Richard’s shirt, trying to push him out. “You are the cause of this! You are an outsider! A savage! One of the unenlightened! You have brought profane ideas among our people!” He did his best to shake Richard. “You have seduced our people to violence!”
Richard snatched the speaker’s wrist and wrenched his arm around, taking him to his knees. The man cried out in pain. Without letting up, Richard leaned down toward him.
“We have risked our lives helping your people. Your people are not enlightened, but people the same as anyone else. You are going to listen to us. This night, the future of you and your people will be shaped.”
Richard released the man with a shove, then went to the door and stuck his head out. “Cara, go ask Tom to help you get all the rest of the men to come down here. I think they had better all be part of this.”
As Cara ran to spread the word that Richard wanted all the men to gather into the basement of the “palace,” he ordered the speakers back against the wall.
“You have no right to do this,” one protested.
“You are the representatives of the people of Bandakar. You are their leaders,” Richard told them. “The time has come for you to lead.”
Behind, men started filing into the candlelit room. It wasn’t long before they were all quietly assembled. The basement was large enough that Owen’s men took up only part of the available space. Kahlan saw other, unfamiliar people straggle in as well. Knowing the nature of these people, and since Cara was letting them in, Kahlan didn’t think that they presented a threat.
Richard gestured toward the quiet gathering watching the speakers. “These men from the town of Witherton have faced the truth of what is happening to their people. They will no longer tolerate such brutality. They will no longer be victims. They wish to be free.”
One of the speakers, a man with a narrow, pointed chin, huffed dismissively. “Freedom can never work. It only gives people license to be self-centered. A thoughtful person, dedicated to the welfare of an enlightened mankind, must reject the immoral concept of ‘freedom’ for what it is—selfish.”
“That’s right,” another agreed. “Such simplistic beliefs can only provoke a cycle of violence. This silly notion of ‘freedom’ leads to viewing things as black or white. Such uninspired morals are obsolete. Individuals have no right to judge others—especially in such authoritarian terms. What is needed is compromise among all sides if there is to be peace.”
“Compromise?” Richard asked. “A cycle of violence can only exist if you grant all people, including those who are evil, moral equivalence—if you say that everyone, including those who decide to harm others, has an equal right to exist. That is what you do when you refuse to crush evil—you give moral standing and power to those who murder.
“Devotion to compromise in such arenas is a sick idea that says you must cut off a finger, and then a leg, and then an arm to feed the monster living among you. Evil feeds on the good. If you kill the monster, the violence ends.
“You have two choices before you. Choose to live in cringing fear, on your knees, apologizing endlessly for wishing to be allowed to live as you struggle to appease an ever-expanding evil, or eliminate those who would harm you and free yourselves to live your own lives—which means you must remain vigilant, ever ready to protect yourself.”
One of the speakers, his eyes going wide, lifted an arm to point at Richard. “I know you, now. You are the one who was named in Prophecy. You are the one that Prophecy says will destroy us!”
Whispers carried the accusation back through the crowd.
Richard gazed back at his gathered men, then directed a withering glare at the speakers. “I am Richard Rahl. You’re right; I am the one named in the Prophecy given to your people so long ago. ‘Your destroyer will come and he will redeem you.’
“You’re right; this Prophecy is about me. But if I had not come along, it would eventually have been another who would have fulfilled those words, whether in another year, or another thousand years, because these words are really about man’s honorable commitment to life.
“Your people were banished because they refused to see the truth of the world around them. They chose to close their minds to reality. I have ended that blindness.”
Richard pointed back at the men with him. “When the truth was put before these men, they chose at last to open their eyes and see it. Now, the rest of your people must meet the same challenge and make a choice as to how they will live their future.
“‘Your destroyer will come and he will redeem you’ are words of the potential for a better future. They mean that your way of life, of impeding people from being their best, of restricting them from being all that they can be, of your blind destructive ways that crush the spirit of each individual and over time have caused so many of the best of your people to abandon you and go into the unknown beyond the boundary…is ended.
“The men of the Order may have invaded your land, but, spiritually, they change nothing for you. Their violence is merely more apparent than your slow suffocation of human potential. They offer the same unseeing lives you already live, simply with a more manifest form of brutality.
“I have brought the light of truth to some of your people, and in so doing I have destroyed their dark existence. The rest of your people must now decide if they will continue to cower in darkness or come into the light I have brought among you.
“In bringing that light to your people, I have redeemed them.
“I have shown them that they can soar on their own wings, aspire to reach for what they want for themselves. I have helped them take back their own lives.
“Yes, I have destroyed the pretext that is the chains of their repression, but in so doing I have freed the nobility of their spirits.
“That is the meaning of the Prophecy. It is up to each of you to rise to the occasion and seek to triumph, or to hide in your self-imposed darkness without trying. There is no guarantee that if you try you will succeed. But without trying, you will assure failure and lives of dread for yourselves and your children. The only difference will be that if you choose to live the same as you do now, if you continue to appease evil, you will now know that it’s at the price of your soul.”
Richard turned away from the speakers. Before he closed his eyes to rub them with his fingertips, Kahlan saw the terrible agony in those eyes. She wanted nothing more than to get to the last antidote and then to do what they must to rid him of the pain caused by his gift. She knew she was slowly losing him. It seemed to her as if Richard were somewhere all alone, dangling from the edge of a cliff, holding on by his fingertips, and his fingers were slowly slipping.
Owen stepped forward. “Honored speakers, the time has come to hear from the Wise One. If you do not think this crisis for our people warrants it, then nothing does. This is our future, our lives, that are at stake.
“Bring out the Wise One. We will hear his words, if he truly is wise and worthy of our loyalty.”
After noting the murmurs of agreement throughout the room, the speakers put their heads together, whispering among themselves to find a consensus that would tell them what to do. Finally, about half of them went off into a back room.
One of the remaining speakers bowed his bald head. “We will see what the Wise One has to say.” Kahlan had seen such contemptuous smiles often enough. Lifting his pointed chin, he serenely clasped his hands before himself. “Before all these people, we will put your blasphemous words to the Wise One and hear his wisdom so that this matter may be put to rest.”
Men emerged from the back room carrying posts draped with red cloth, notched boards, and planks. Before the door into a back room, they began assembling a simple platform with posts at each corner and the heavy red drapes designed to enclose it. When the structure was finally completed, they placed a large pillow on the platform and then drew the drapes together. Other men carried over two tables, holding a number of candles, and placed one on each side of the draped ceremonial seat of wisdom. In short order, the speakers had created a simple but reverent setting.
Kahlan knew a number of peoples in the Midlands who had magic and functioned in the capacity she imagined that this Wise One did. They also usually had attendants, such as these speakers. She also knew better than to underestimate such simple shamans and their link to the spirit world. There were those who had very real connections and very real power over their people.
What she couldn’t imagine was how a people without any magic whatsoever could have such an agent of the spirits. If it was true that they did, and such a person went against them, then all their work would have been for nothing.
The speakers lined up to either side and then drew the curtains in the front just enough to see into the dim interior.
There, sitting cross-legged on the pillow, was what appeared to be a boy in white robes, his hands resting prayerfully in his lap. He didn’t look very old, maybe eight or ten at most. A black scarf was tied around his head to cover his eyes.
“He’s just a boy,” Richard said.
At the interruption, one of the speakers shot Richard a murderous glare. “Only a child is innocent enough of the contamination of life to be free to touch true wisdom. As we grow older we layer our experiences over our once perfect insight, but we remember those once unadulterated connections and so we realize how only in a child can wisdom itself be so pure.”
Heads throughout the room bobbed knowingly.
Richard cast a sidelong glance at Kahlan.
One of the speakers knelt before the platform and bowed his bald head. “Wise One, we must ask your knowing guidance. Some of our men wish to begin a war.”
“War solves nothing,” the Wise One said in a pious voice.
“Perhaps you would like to hear his reasons.”
“There are no valid reasons for fighting. War is never a solution. War is an admission of failure.”
The people in the room shrank back, looking ill at ease to have brought such crude inquiries before the Wise One, inquiries he had no trouble untangling with simple wisdom that laid bare obvious immorality.
“Very wise. You have shown us wisdom in its true, simple perfection. All men would do well to heed such truth.” The man bowed his head again. “We have tried to tell—”
“Why are you wearing a blindfold?” Richard asked, cutting off the speaker kneeling before the platform.
“I hear anger in your voice,” the Wise One said. “Nothing can be accomplished until you shed your hate. If you search with your heart, you can find the good in everyone.”
Richard put a hand on Owen’s back, urging him ahead. He reached back into the crowd of men and grabbed a pinch of Anson’s shirt, pulling him forward as well. The three men moved up to the Wise One’s platform. Only Richard stood tall. With his foot, he forced the kneeling speaker aside.
“I asked why you’re wearing a blindfold,” Richard said.
“Knowledge must be denied so as to make room for faith. It is only through faith that real truth can be reached,” the Wise One said. “You must believe before you can see.”
“If you believe, without seeing the truth of what is,” Richard said, “then you’re simply being willfully blind, not wise. You must see, first, in order to learn and understand.”
The men around Kahlan looked uncomfortable that Richard was speaking in this way to their Wise One.
“Stop the hate, or you reap only hate.”
“We were talking about knowledge. I haven’t asked you about hate.”
The Wise One put his hands together prayerfully before himself, bowing his head slightly. “Wisdom is all around us, but our eyes blind us, our hearing deafens us, our minds think and so make us ignorant. Our senses only trick us; the world can tell us nothing of the nature of reality. To be at one with the greater essence of the true meaning of life, you must first stare blindly inward to discover truth.”
Richard folded his arms over his chest. “I have eyes, so I can’t see. I have ears, so I can’t hear. I have a mind, so I can’t know anything.”
“The first step to wisdom is to accept that we are inadequate to know the nature of reality, and so nothing we think we know can be real.”
“We must eat to live. How is one to track a deer in the woods so you can eat? Blindfold yourself? Stuff wax in your ears? Do it while you’re asleep so your mind won’t contribute any thinking to the task at hand?”
“We do not eat meat. It is wrong to harm animals just so that we might eat. We have no more right to live than an animal.”
“So you eat only plants, eggs, cheese—things like that.”
“Of course.”
“How do you make cheese?”
In the awkward silence, someone in the back of the room coughed.
“I am the Wise One. I have not been called upon to do this work. Others make cheese for us to eat.”
“I see; you don’t know how to make cheese for your dinner because no one has ever taught you. That’s perfect. Here you are, then, blindfolded and with a clear mind not all clogged up with troublesome knowledge on the subject. So, how do you make cheese? Is it coming to you? Is the method of making cheese being sent to you through your blindfolded divine introspection?”
“Reality cannot be tested—”
“Tell me how, if you were to wear a blindfold so you couldn’t see, put wax in your ears so you couldn’t hear, and put on heavy mittens so you couldn’t feel anything, how you would even do something as simple as picking a radish to eat. Tell you what, you can leave the wax out of your ears, and not bother with the mittens. Just leave that blindfold on and show me how you can pick a radish so you have something to eat. I’ll even help you find the door, first; then you’re on your own. Come on, then. Off you go.”
The Wise One licked his lips. “Well, I…”
“If you deny yourself sight, hearing, touch…how will you plant food to sustain your life, or how can you even hunt for berries and nuts? If nothing is real, then how long until you starve to death while you wait for some inner voice of ‘truth’ to feed you?”
One of the speakers rushed forward, trying to push Richard back. Richard shoved the man so hard that it sat him on the ground. The speakers cowered back a few paces. Richard put one boot up on the platform, laid his arm across his knee, and leaned close to the Wise One.