tg.wizardfirstrule-第143部分

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ty。　He　backed　away　a　step；　to　look；　and　hit　the　wall。　The　shadows　reached　for　him；　calling　his　name　seductively。
　
　He　dumped　the　stone　back　into　the　pouch　and　stood　in　the　blackness；　breathing　hard；　near　panic　at　the　feeling　of　being　trapped。　He　knew　he　couldn't　use　the　sword　to　fight　the　shadow　things　while　he　worked　on　the　drawing；　he　had　fought　the　shadows　before　and　it　took　everything　he　had。　His　mind　raced。　He　couldn't　think　of　what　to　do。　He　had　erased　the　sword；　and　that　didn't　work。　The　spell　must　still　recognize　him。　He　knew　there　wasn't　enough　time　to　erase　the　line　all　the　way　around　him。　His　breath　came　in　a　desperate　pant。
　
　There　was　flickering　light。　He　spun　around。　A　man　holding　one　of　the　reed　torches　came　closer；　an　oily　smile　on　his　face。　It　was　James；　the　artist。
　
　〃I　thought　I　might　find　you　here。　I　came　to　watch。　Anything　I　can　do　to　help？〃
　
　By　his　laugh；　Richard　knew　James　wasn't　about　to　help　him。　James　also　knew　that　with　the　wall　between　them　Richard　couldn't　use　the　sword　on　him。　He　laughed　at　Richard's　helplessness。
　
　Richard　cast　a　quick　glance　sideways。　The　torch　gave　enough　light　for　him　to　see　the　drawing。　The　invisible　wall　pushed　at　his　shoulder；　pushed　him　toward　the　wall。　A　wave　of　nausea　and　dizziness　went　through　him　at　the　touch。　He　was　only　a　step　away　from　the　cave　wall　as　it　was。　In　moments；　he　would　be　encased；　crushed；　or　poisoned。
　
　Richard　spun　to　the　drawing。　While　he　worked　with　one　hand；　he　searched　his　pocket　with　the　other。　He　pulled　out　the　stick　Zedd　had　told　him　he　could　use　to　alter　the　drawing。
　
　James　leaned　forward　with　a　chuckle；　watching　him　work。
　
　The　chuckle　stopped。　〃What　are　you　doing　there？〃
　
　Richard　didn't　answer　as　he　erased　the　right　hand　on　the　figure。
　
　〃Stop　that！〃　James　yelled。
　
　Richard　ignored　him　and　kept　erasing。　James　threw　the　torch　on　the　ground　and　pulled　out　a　drawing　stick　of　his　own。　The　artist　started　drawing　in　fast　slashing　strokes；　strands　of　his　greasy　hair　whipping　around　as　he　worked。　He　was　drawing　a　figure。　He　was　drawing　another　spell。　Richard　knew　that　if　James　finished　first；　there　would　be　no　second　chance。
　
　〃Stop　that；　you　fool！〃　James　yelled　as　he　raced　to　plete　his　drawing。
　
　The　unseen　wall　pressed　up　against　Richard's　back；　forcing　him　against　the　wall　of　the　cave。　He　barely　had　room　to　move　his　arms。　James　was　drawing　a　sword；　starting　to　write　the　word　Truth。
　
　Richard　took　his　drawing　stick　and；　with　a　line；　connected　the　sides　of　the　wrist　on　the　figure；　making　a　stump。　Just　like　the　one　James　had。
　
　As　he　finished　it；　the　pressure　on　his　back　lifted；　and　the　sick　feeling　left。
　
　James　screamed。
　
　Richard　turned　to　see　him　writhing　on　the　floor　of　the　cave；　folding　himself　into　a　ball　as　he　vomited。　Richard　shuddered　and　picked　up　the　torch。
　
　The　artist's　pleading　eyes　came　up　to　him。　〃I　。　。　。　wasn't　going　to　let　it　kill　you　。　。　。　only　trap　you。　。　。　。〃
　
　〃Who　had　you　do　this　spell　on　me？〃
　
　_　James　gave　a　wicked　little　smile。　〃The　Mord…Sith；〃　he　whispered。　〃You　are　going　to　die　。　。　。　。〃
　
　〃What's　a　Mord…Sith？〃
　
　Richard　heard　the　breath　being　squeezed　from　him；　bones　snapping。　James　was　dead。　Richard　couldn't　say　he　was　sorry。
　
　Richard　didn't　know　what　a　Mord…Sith　was；　but　he　didn't　want　to　wait　around　to　find　out。　Suddenly　he　felt　alone　and　vulnerable。　Zedd　and　Kahlan　both　had　warned　him　that　there　were　many　things　in　the　Midlands；　many　creatures　of　magic；　that　were　dangerous；　that　he　knew　nothing　about。　He　hated　the　Midlands；　the　magic。　He　just　wanted　to　get　back　to　Kahlan。
　
　Richard　ran　toward　the　cave　entrance；　dropping　the　torch　along　the　way。　Running　out　into　the　bright　sunlight；　shielding　his　eyes；　he　came　to　a　halt。　Squinting；　he　saw　a　ring　of　people　around　him。　Soldiers。　They　wore　uniforms　of　dark　leather　and　mail；　swords　over　their　shoulders；　battle　axes　at　their　wide　belts。
　
　At　their　lead；　facing　the　cave；　facing　him；　was　someone　different；　a　woman；　with　long　auburn　hair　pulled　back　into　a　loose　braid。　She　was　sheathed　in　leather　from　neck　to　ground；　cut　to　fit　like　a　glove。　Blood…red　leather。　The　only　deviation　from　the　blood　red　of　it　was　a　yellow　crescent　and　star　across　her　stomach。　Richard　saw　that　the　men　wore　the　same　crescent　and　star　on　their　chests；　only　theirs　was　red。　She　watched　him　with　no　emotion　except　the　slightest　wisp　of　a　smile。
　
　Richard　stood　with　his　feet　spread　defensively；　his　hand　on　the　hilt　of　the　sword；　not　knowing　what　to　do；　without　a　clue　to　their　intent。　Her　eyes　gave　a　little　flick；　looking　above　and　behind　him。　Richard　heard　two　men　drop　from　the　cliff　wall　to　the　ground　behind　him。　He　could　feel　the　anger　of　the　sword　racing　urgently　into　him　through　his　hand　on　the　hilt。　He　held　it　at　full　rage　as　he　gritted　his　teeth。
　
　The　woman　snapped　her　fingers　at　the…men　behind　him；　then　pointed　at　him。　〃Take　him。〃　He　heard　the　sound　of　steel　being　drawn。
　
　That　was　everything　Richard　needed　to　know。　The　mitment　had　been　made。
　
　Bringer　of　death。
　
　His　sword　came　out　in　an　arc　as　he　spun。　He　let　the　anger　loose　with　a　vengeance。　It　exploded　through　him。　His　eyes　met　those　of　the　two　men。　Their　jaws　were　set　in　a　rage　of　their　own　as　their　swords　cleared　the　scabbards　over　their　shoulders。
　
　Richard　kept　the　Sword　of　Truth　low。　Waist　height；　with　all　his　weight　and　strength　behind　it。　Their　swords　came　down　defensively。　He　screamed　with　lethal　rage。　Lethal　hate。　Lethal　need。　He　gave　himself　pletely　over　to　the　lust　to　kill；　knowing　anything　less　would　be　the　end　of　him。　His　sword　tip　whistled。
　
　Bringer　of　death。
　
　Shards　of　hot；　shattered　steel　spiraled　through　the　clear；　morning　air。
　
　Twin　grunts。　At　impact；　twin；　wet　thwacks；　like　ripe　melons　hitting　the　ground。　Insides　turned　out　in　long　red　ropes。　The　top　halves　of　their　bodies　tumbled　as　the　legs　collapsed。
　
　The　sword　continued　around；　tracing　its　route　with　strings　of　blood。　He　refocused　the　rage；　the　hate；　the　need。　She　manded　them。　Richard　wanted　her　lifeblood。　The　magic　surged　through　him　unhindered。　He　was　still　screaming。　She　stood　with　a　hand　on　her　hip。
　
　Richard　met　her　eyes；　made　a　slight　alteration　to　the　course　of　the　sword　so　it　too　would　meet　them。　Her　widening　smile　only　fed　the　violent　fire　of　his　wrath。　Their　eyes　locked　together。　The　sword　tip　whistled　around　toward　her　head。　His　need　to　kill　was　beyond　retrieval。
　
　Bringer　of　death。
　
　The　pain　of　the　sword's　magic　hit　him　like　a　waterfall　of　icy　water　on　naked　flesh。　The　blade　never　reached　her。　The　sword　clattered　to　the　ground　as　the　pain　took　him　to　his　knees；　ripping　through　him；　doubling　him　over。
　
　Hand　still　on　her　hip；　smile　still　on　her　face；　she　stood　over　him；　watching　as　he　clutched　his　arms　across　his　abdomen；　vomiting　blood；　choking　on　it。　Fire　burned　through　every　inch　of　him。　The　pain　of　the　magic　consumed　him；　took　his　breath　from　his　lungs。　Desperately；　he　tried　to　get　a　grip　on　the　magic；　tried　to　put　away　the　pain　as　he　had　learned　to　do　before。　It　did　not　respond　to　his　will。　With　rising　panic；　he　realized　he　no　longer　had　control　of　it。
　
　She　did。
　
　He　collapsed　to　his　face　in　the　dirt；　trying　to　scream；　to　breathe；　but　couldn't。　He　thought　about　Kahlan　for　an　instant；　then　the　pain　took　even　that　from　him。
　
　Not　one　of　the　men　moved　from　the　circle。　The　woman　put　a　boot　on　the　back　of　his　neck　and　an　elbow　on　her　knee　as　she　leaned　over。　With　her　other　hand　she　grabbed　a　fistful　of　his　hair　and　lifted　his　head。　She　leaned　closer；　the　leather　creaking。
　
　〃My；　my；〃　she　hissed。　〃And　here　I　thought　I　was　going　to　have　to　torture　you　for　days　and　days　before　I　finally　made　you　angry　enough　to　use　your　magic　against　me。　Well；　not　to　worry；　I　have　other　reasons　to　torture　you。〃
　
　Through　his　pain；　Richard　realized　he　had　made　a　fearful　mistake。　He　had　somehow　given　her　the　control　of　the　sword's　magic。　He　knew　he　was　…in　more　trouble　than　he　had　ever　been　in　in　his　life。　Kahlan　was　safe；　he　told　himself；　that　was　all　that　mattered。
　
　〃Do　you　want　the　pain　to　stop；　my　pet？〃
　
　The　question　enraged　him。　His　anger　at　her；　his　want　to　kill　her；　twisted　the　pain　tighter。　〃No；〃　he　managed　with　all　of　his　strength。
　
　She　shrugged；　dropping　his　head。　〃Fine　by　me。　But　when　you　decide　you　want　the　pain　of　the　magic　to　stop；　all　you　have　to　do　is　stop　thinking　those　nasty　thoughts　about　me。　From　now　on；　I　control　the　magic　of　your　sword。　If　you　so。　much　as　think　of　lifting　a　finger　against　me；　the　pain　of　the　magic　will　take　you　down。〃　She　smiled。　〃That　is　the　only　pain　you　will　have　any　control　over。　Just　think　something　pleasant　about　me；　and　it　will　stop。
　
　〃Of　course；　I　too　will　have　control　over　the　pain　of　the　magic；　and　can　bring　it　to　you　any　time　I　choose；　and　I　can　bring　you　other　pain　too；　as　you　will　learn。〃　She　frowned。　〃Tell　me；　my　pet；　did　you　try　to　use　the　magic　on　me　because　you　are　a　fool；　or　because　you　fancy　yourself　as　brave？〃
　
　The　pain　let　up　the　smallest　bit。　He　gasped　for　air。　She　had　relaxed　it　just　enough　to　allow　him　to　answer。
　
　〃Who　。　。　。　are　。　。　。　you？〃
　
　She　took　a　fistful　of　his