The First Confessor by Terry Goodkind Read Free Book Online Page A

room, scanning the collection of books in carved walnut bookcases standing against the wall to the right. He rested his palm on the silver handle of a knife at his belt as he moved down the line of shelves, pausing to gaze in at volumes behind glass doors. He squinted a bit as he read the titles.
    “What’s more,” he added as he finally straightened his broad shoulders, “we are all flesh and blood, and a simple knife will cut my throat the same as it would cut yours, and it takes no magic at all to do that.”
    “I see your point. Baraccus never put it in exactly those terms, but I have heard him say similar things. He once told me that the gift was coveted by those who didn’t have it because they wrongly believed that it would protect them, or that with it they could win in battle, but what they didn’t realize was that it offered only a fluid, ever-escalating form of checkmate. I guess I never realized his full meaning until I heard you explain it.”
    Alric Rahl nodded, still looking at the books. “That is the whole issue in a nutshell: the balance of power. Even as we speak, wizards of great skill here and in the Old World work to come up with new forms of magic that will offer an advantage in the war. Both sides seek ever more deadly weapons crafted by the gift, hoping to find one that will have no counter from the other side.
    “If we succeed, we will turn the tide of war and survive. If they succeed, we will be enslaved if not annihilated.”
    A vague sense of apprehension settling into her, Magda gazed off at her empty quarters. “Being the wife of the First Wizard, I have often heard such worries.”
    Finished perusing the books, Lord Rahl returned to stand before her.
    “That’s why I’m here. That balance of power has shifted. We now stand at the brink of annihilation.”

Chapter 9
     
     
    “That is frightening news.” Disheartened, Magda slowly shook her head. “But I’m afraid that there’s not much I can do to help you. I’m not gifted.”
    Alric Rahl paced off a few strides, seeming to consider how to proceed. “Baraccus and I were working on something together,” he finally said. “I’ve been dealing with my part of it while he was working on a separate issue. I need to know if he was able to accomplish his objective, but I didn’t get here in time to speak with him.” He turned back. “Absent Baraccus, I’m hoping you can help me with what needs to be done, now.”
    Magda reflexively reached to pull her hair back over her shoulder, but her hair barely brushed her shoulders, now, so there was nothing to pull back. She let the hand drop.
    “I’m sorry, Lord Rahl, but with Baraccus lost to us I don’t know what help I can be.”
    “You know people in the inner circles of power here at the Keep. You know who would listen. You can talk to the council. You could help convince them to take seriously my warnings. That would be a good start.”
    “Talk to the council? The council won’t listen to me.”
    “Of course they will. You’re the closest thing they have to the word of Baraccus himself.”
    “The word of Baraccus?” Magda shook her head. “I am no longer the wife of the First Wizard, so I no longer have standing with the council, or anywhere else for that matter.” She held out a short strand of hair for him to see. “The men of the council are the ones who cut my hair to make that clearly evident to everyone.”
    “Who cares about your hair? Baraccus may be dead, but you’re still the wife to the First Wizard. His passing does not change the fact that you knew him better than anyone, or that you were the one he trusted. He confided in you, I know he did—he told me so himself. He said that because you weren’t gifted you were often the best sounding board he had.”
    “Baraccus is dead.” Magda looked away from the man’s blue eyes. “The council will soon replace him. Without Baraccus alive, I no longer have any status. That’s why they cut my