The man, wide-eyed, shoulders hunched, raked back his hair several times. Richard stood before him like a stone pillar, blocking his way. The man's blue eyes turned to each side, apparently checking to see if he had an escape route should he decide to bolt.
"I mean you no harm," Richard said. "I just want to know what you're up to."
"Up to?"
"Why you're headed for the wagon."
The man glanced toward the wagon, not visible beyond the craggy folds of rock, then down at Richard's sword, and finally up into his eyes.
"I'm… looking for help," he finally said.
"Help?"
The man nodded. "Yes. I'm searching for the one whose craft is fighting."
Richard cocked his head. "You're looking for a soldier of some kind?"
He swallowed at the frown on Richard's face. "Yes, that's right."
Richard shrugged. "The Imperial Order has lots of soldiers. I'm sure that if you keep looking you will come across some."
The man shook his head. "No. I seek the man from far away-from far to the north. The man who came to bring freedom to many of the oppressed people of the Old World. The man who gives us all hope that the Imperial Order-may the Creator forgive their misguided ways-will be cast out of our lives so that we can be at peace once again."
"Sorry," Richard said, "I don't know anyone like that."
The man didn't look disappointed by Richard's words. He looked more like he simply didn't believe them. His fine features were pleasant-looking, even though he appeared unconvinced.
"Do you think you could"-the man hesitantly lifted an arm out, pointing-"at least… let me have a drink?"
Richard relaxed a bit. "Sure."
He pulled the strap off his shoulder and tossed his waterskin to the man. He caught it as if it were precious glass he feared to drop. He pried at the stopper, finally getting it free, and started gulping the water.
He stopped abruptly, lowering the waterskin. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to start drinking all your water right down."
"It's all right." Richard gestured for him to drink up. "I have more back at the wagon. You look to need it."
As Richard hooked a thumb behind his wide leather belt, the man bowed his head in thanks before tipping the waterskin up for a long drink.
"Where did you hear about this man who fights for freedom?" Richard asked.
The man brought the waterskin down again, his eyes never leaving Richard as he paused to catch his breath. "From many a tongue. The freedom he has spread down here in the Old World has brought hope to us all."
Richard smiled inwardly at how the bright hope of freedom burned even in a dark place like the heart of the Old World. There were people everywhere who hungered for the same things in life, for a chance to live their life free and by their own labor to better themselves.
Overhead a black-tipped race, wings spread wide, popped into sight as it glided across the open swath of sky above the rise of rock to each side.
Richard didn't have his bow, but the race stayed out of range, anyway.
The man shrank at seeing the race the way a rabbit would shrink when it saw a hawk.
"Sorry I can't help you," Richard said when the race had disappeared.
He checked behind, in the direction of the wagon, out beyond the nearby hill. "I'm traveling with my wife and family, looking for work, for a place to mind our own business."
Richard's business was the revolution, if he was to have a chance for his plan to work, and there were a number of people waiting on him in that regard. He had more urgent problems, first, though.
"But, Lord Rahl, my people need-"
Richard spun back around. "Why would you call me that?"
"I'm, I'm sorry." The man swallowed. "I didn't mean to anger you."
"What makes you think I'm this Lord Rahl?"
The man painted his hand up and down in front of Richard as he sputtered, trying to find words. "You, you, you just… are. I can't imagine
… what else you want me to say. I'm sorry if I have offended you by being so forward, Lord Rahl."
Cara stalked out from behind a rocky spire. "What have we here?"
The man gasped in surprise at seeing her as he flinched back yet another step, clutching the waterskin to his chest as if it were a shield of steel.
Tom, his silver knife to hand, stepped up out of a gully behind the man, blocking the way should the man decide to run back the way he'd come.
The man turned in a circle to see Tom towering behind. As he finally came back around and saw Kahlan standing beside Richard, he let out another gasp. They all were wearing dusty traveling clothes, but somehow Richard didn't suppose that at that moment they looked at all like simple travelers in search of work.
"Please," the man said, "I don't mean any harm."
"Take it easy," Richard said as he stole a sidelong glance at Cara- his words meant not only for the man but the Mord-Sith as well. "Are you alone?" Richard asked him.
"Yes, Lord Rahl. I'm on a mission for my people, just as I told you.
You are of course to be forgiven your aggressive nature-I would expect nothing less. I want you to know I hold no feelings of resentment toward you."
