Three Rules

"Another." Ben said as he pushed the empty pint glass back at the bartender.

"You sure son?" The bartender asked. "That's your fourth one. I think maybe you ought to slow down and savor the moment. You're a legend now, son. You just beat The Seeker. Doesn't that make you happy at all?"

With a look that could have scared the Keeper himself, Ben grabbed the bartender by the shirt collar. "I said another," he said, "and I'm not your son!"

"Alright," the bartender said as he gingerly removed Ben's fingers from his collar and poured him another pint, "I don't want any trouble. You could have any woman in the town right now. It's just if I were you s-… uh, sir I would be enjoying myself not drowning in pints of beer."

Ben ignored him and started in on his fifth pint. Turning around on his stool at the bar Ben took in the scene in front of him. The place was packed. The dozens of people all packed into this tiny room made the air hot and stale. The room was dominated by the bar, which took up nearly one third of it. A few tables had been crammed into the rest of the space so those who wanted more than a liquid meal could sit. At the table to his left five men were huddled together discussing the events of the day. One of them was gloating that he had taken them all for a hefty sum when he bet on Ben to win the fight. The others pushed and shoved him, telling him it was pure dumb luck. At the table behind them two huge men were eating gigantic turkey legs. Seeing that they had nearly finished them, the waitress, wearing a very short green dress and a white blouse, glided over to the table and asked if there was anything more she could get them. With greasy fingers, the man farthest from Ben reached under the girl's short dress and pinched her buttocks. From under his huge black beard a toothy grin appeared.

"Not right now deary, but I'm sure a little later you could help us with a little desert." He said sharing a devious look with his table mate as he patted the waitress on the rear to send her on her way.

In a hearth on the far wall a fire blazed. A picture of the bartender's family, a wife and two little girls, hung on the wall over the mantle piece. To each side of the hearth were small windows. Tattered drapes bracketed the windows looking as if the weather had gotten the best of them. The window to the right actually had two different colored drapes, having apparently lost one that couldn't be replaced with a duplicate of the same color. In the corner to the right of that window three women from the town stood and watched Ben's every move. Ben let out an exasperated sigh when he saw them. Earlier in the night each of them, in turn, had tried to get Ben into bed with no success. Apparently they hadn't gotten the clue yet that he wasn't interested. Turning back to the bar, Ben took another swig of beer. It might not help him feel better, but at least it helped him forget.

He looked at the foam sitting on top of the beer and the dark amber beer underneath. Why couldn't he forget? Why couldn't he move on? No matter how hard he tried he couldn't get that day out of his head. Why hadn't he tried harder? Why didn't he act faster? Why was he destined to feel this pain worse than death and not die? Because the Creator was punishing him, that's why. He should have acted quicker. He should have escaped sooner. He should have been able to save them.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. Great, he really didn't want to have to deal with these women again. They had picked the wrong time to bother him.

"Listen", he said, "I really don't care what sweet nothings you will whisper in my ear, I really don't care how much experience or inexperience, which ever you think is more attractive to me, you have, I really don't care how many times or how long you are willing to offer, I really don't care what your friends are willing to do with us, and most of all," he said beginning to turn, "I really don't care how big you think my –"

"Your what?" Richard said with a small smirk on his face.

"Sorry, I thought you were someone else." Ben said as he turned back to his beer.

"I hope so, although, you might not want to discount how skilled I am at whispering sweet nothings in ears." Richard replied as he gave Ben a playful nudge on the shoulder.

Ben gave a half smile, not really in the mood to be joking around

"You really fought well today." Richard said.

"Thanks." Ben replied half-heartedly before taking another swig of beer.

"I have to admit, that's the first time in a long time anyone has beaten me." Richard continued. "That last attack you used… it was… interesting to say the least. Where did you learn something like that? Can you teach me?"

Ben let out a sigh. "Listen Seeker I'm not really in the mood for small talk right now. Could you get to the point."

"Okay." Richard said scratching his head nervously. "Well, I figured you would be packing up soon and heading on your way, right?"

"That was the plan." Ben replied.

"Well, since you're going to be travelling and we're going to be travelling," he paused and looked up as if searching for the correct words, "I was wondering if maybe you'd want to travel together?"

"I travel alone Seeker. Sorry."

"Oh. This is a dangerous part of the Midlands, you know. It's close to the Wilderness. Lots of dangers out there. Shadrin, Gars, maybe a Cathrop or two. I think we'd all be safer if we travelled together. Don't you?" Richard pushed.

"I just beat the Seeker. I think I'll be fine. Your concern is touching though." Ben replied still staring at his beer.

"Well, the weather also looks like it going to be turning for the worse. Rain's coming. Wouldn't it be easier on all of us if we travelled together? That way we could each lend a hand in building shelters. It's easier to build a shelter with eight hands rather than two." Richard continued to push.

"I travel alone Seeker!" Ben said raising his voice just slightly to hammer home his point.

"Well, don't you think that lots of people will have heard about your victory today?" Richard asked.

"Your point?" Ben asked.

"Well, they'll know that you have a heavy purse right now. That would make you a prime target for bandits. Even with your skills I doubt you could hold off a whole group. I mean wouldn't it make a lot more sense if we -"

"By the spirits, you don't quit do you!" Ben screamed as he slammed his beer on the bar and got up to face the Seeker.

"You don't know the half of it!" came the reply from the Mord'Sith standing next to the door as if she were guarding it. Ben hadn't noticed her before. Good thing. He ignored her.

"Look Seeker you want me to travel with you? Fine! On one condition, every town we stop at you help me earn some money from the townsfolk."

"How do you propose I do that?" Richard asked.

"We fight." Ben replied.

"I'm not going to help you swindle innocent people out of their money!"

"I never said we would. People will pay a pretty penny to see the Seeker and the man who defeated the Seeker in a fight. No need for betting or swindling. We just charge a fee for our talents. What do you say? Is it a deal?" Ben said as he extended out his right hand.

Richard thought for a second. The Mord'Sith crossed her arms in a huff, apparently not pleased at all with the proposal. A slow smile crept across Richard's face as he reached out his hand to shake Ben's.

"Deal." He said.

"Great that means its going to take twice as long to get Kahlan back to Aydindril. You realize that don't you?" The Mord'Sith screamed across the bar.

"Cara!" was all Richard said.

It seemed to have the desired effect. With a sneer she crossed her arms again and stared off to her right.

"We're just about packed and ready to go. We were hoping to get a few hours of travelling in tonight before we need to stop. Is that alright?" Richard said turning back to Ben.

"Works for me. I'll get packed and ready to go. Just give me a few minutes." Ben said as he finished off the rest of the pint of beer in one big gulp and headed out the door past the Mord'Sith.

"We'll meet you in the town square!" Richard called after him.

Ben gave a wave as he moved out the door to indicate he had heard.

Kahlan had her Confessor's face on. It was a technique her mother had taught long ago when she was young. She showed no emotion. A Confessor's power destroyed the person it was released on. That person ceased to be who they were and became completely devoted to the one who had confessed them, so devoted, in fact, that they would die if ordered by their mistress to do so. Not kill themselves, they would die. Their devotion to their mistress was so great that their hearts would stop beating and they would fall dead on the spot. Kahlan had lost count of how many confessions she had taken like this. She was glad for that. However, each one still left a lasting impression on her psyche. One in particular stood out in her mind.

When she was still a young Confessor, young girls were mysteriously disappearing from the town of Grey Wood. In a span of two months nine girls had gone missing without a trace left. After an exhaustive investigation the constable had arrested a man named Nigel. Nigel had never been a suspect in the crime. He had always been an upstanding member of the community. A member of many of the town's councils and, just the year, before had been named the town's most eligible bachelor at their annual harvest festival. No one had even the slightest inkling that Nigel could possibly have been involved, until the constable had gone to dinner at Nigel's house one night. Sitting at the dinner table, the constable noticed that Nigel was wearing a bracelet. At first he thought nothing of it until he noticed that the bracelet had small heart and flower charms decorating it. Not exactly the type of jewelry a man would wear. Then the constable remembered that a mother of one of the missing girls had told him that the girl was wearing a bracelet similar to the one Nigel wore that night when she had gone missing. Nigel, of course, had denied any guilt and had said that he had found the bracelet while out on a walk. Since neither his guilt nor his innocence could be proven, Kahlan had been asked to receive his confession.

Kahlan arrived at Grey Wood and confessed him as she had been asked. She ordered him to tell her the entire truth as it pertained to the matter. Unfortunately, Nigel had been the one who had kidnapped not only the girl whose bracelet he wore, but all nine. Kahlan stood and listened as he laid out every aspect of his crime, from how he had watched and waited for weeks until each girl was alone to kidnap them, to how he had bound them, beat them, gouged out their eyes so they couldn't see the beating coming (he said it was more entertaining when they weren't expecting it), poured boiling water down their throats so they couldn't scream, broke their legs so they couldn't run, and then raped them repeatedly. Then, once the deed was done, he chopped them up into pieces and buried each piece in a different place so that no trace of them could ever really be found. All this done to girls not even ten years old. She listened as this monster laid out every aspect of his depraved and sick mind and then asked if it pleased her to hear it. It was times like that that her Confessor's face was needed, when she couldn't allow her emotions to get the better of her.

Now, however, she was using her Confessor's face to mask how angry she was. She was fuming. Richard still had not apologized or even tried to explain why he had used her as he had earlier in the day. A kiss! How could he be so insensitive? When he and Cara had returned with four horses instead of just three she became even more confused. They hadn't needed four horses since Zedd had left them to travel on ahead to the Wizard's Keep in Aydindril.

"Is Zedd going to be meeting us on the way?" She asked.

"No. We're going to be having some company," had been Richard's reply as he smiled and indicated for her to look behind him.

To Kahlan's surprise she saw Ben trotting along to catch up with Cara and Richard. What was in Richard's head? First he promised a kiss from her to this man and now he was to become their travelling companion? A man who was a complete stranger to all of them and who had defeated Richard in a fight. This was folly. She could see it, by the look on Cara's face it was obvious that she also could. Why couldn't Richard? As she watched Ben coming, Richard turned back around and smiled at her. It was then she saw it, the look in Richard's eyes.

Richard had the knack of being able to completely focus on something. He somehow was able to drown everything else in the world out and concentrate solely on his goal. It was one of the traits of a Seeker. It was one of the things that made him so dangerous. No matter what, he could pursue his goal to the end. When he did, he got a look in his eyes. "The raptor's gaze" Kahlan called it. That was the look that he had in his eyes right then. But why? What was it about this man that had Richard so focused? So focused that he even neglected to consider her feelings. Kahlan just couldn't understand.

They had travelled for a few hours. Richard in the lead, Kahlan following close behind, followed by Ben, with Cara bringing up the rear, no doubt keeping a very careful eye on their new companion. At one point during the journey Kahlan stole a look back at Cara and noticed that she had the reins of her horse in one hand and one of her agiels at the ready in the other. Cara wasn't taking any chances when it came to this man. Despite how tired they all were. He had defeated Richard after all.

After a few hours they all had agreed that they should set up camp and try and get some food and rest before they travelled any further. Kahlan now sat on a log staring at the fire Richard had started, Confessor's face on, boiling underneath the surface. Ben sat opposite her on another log, he had drug to the fire, sharpening his sword. Richard was hard at working building a quick lean-to shelter against a large oak tree. And Cara was vigorously chopping fire wood.

"Hey Mistress Lumberjack, you think when your done chopping you could build a big sign declaring that the Seeker and his companions are going to be sleeping here for the night? I mean, by the spirits, you're making such a racket over there it's a wonder the entire Midlands doesn't know we're here." Ben called over to Cara.

"Oh and you have a better way?" Cara replied placing her hands on her hips and scowling at him.

Ben grunted, laying his sword gingerly against the log he was sitting on, and approached the Mord'Sith. Kahlan wondered how smart this man really was. Approaching an axe wielding Mord'Sith you had just insulted was far from intelligent. When he reached Cara he bent down picked up a small piece of wood and broke it in half.

"Break it. We don't need a gigantic bonfire tonight. We won't be up much longer. I know Mord'Sith tend to look for any excuse to be violent even if it means mutilating inanimate objects, but I'm tired, the Mother Confessor looks tired, and I'm sure the Seeker is tired. The last thing we need is to announce our presence to anyone or anything that may be out there." He said as he pointed to the ring of dark trees outside the light cast by the fire.

"I'm not tired." Cara said as Ben turned and headed back toward his sword.

Ben rolled his eyes.

"No I'm sure you're not. I mean, I'm sure Mord'Sith always nearly ride their horses into Maple trees when they're travelling, sort of a game of chicken right? Only you know that the tree isn't going to move, making it all the more dangerous. How did you get to be so brave Mistress Cara?" Kahlan smiled. It looked like Cara had found her match for stubbornness .

"I did not nearly ride into a Maple tree!"

"Actually, you know what? You're right. I think it was actually a Poplar, now that I think about it."

"Is there a problem?" Cara asked with venom in her voice

"Excuse me?" Ben said turning back to her.

"I mean, have I offended you in some way? Cause to be completely honest you have been nothing but antagonistic to me since we left town. Seriously, if you have a problem with me, then state it. Otherwise I would suggest that you exercise more caution when addressing a Mord'Sith." She said removing her agiels from their holsters.

"Alright you two, stop it." Richard said. "The last thing we need after a long day is to be at each other's throats."

"He started it." Cara said putting her agiels away and crossing her arms.

"I think it was actually your horsemanship that started it," was Ben's reply. Kahlan smiled again, despite how angry she still was at Richard.

"You know what-"

"Stop it now, both of you." Richard reiterated. "It looks like the stew you started earlier is ready Cara. I think we could all use something to eat before we go to bed."

Putting their bickering aside Cara and Ben both came and sat on the log opposite Kahlan while Richard joined her on her log. Cara served each of them a bowl, giving Ben's bowl a bit of a shove when he reached to accept it, nearly spilling the entire bowl on his lap. With an incredulous smile he ignored her.

The stew was surprisingly good. Cara hadn't ever really been very good at cooking, probably a result of having been raised as a Mord'Sith most of her life. She had become used to being waited on by slaves and servants, while she applied herself in the fine art of torture and the occupation of protecting the Lord Rahl, leaving her culinary skills wanting. Kahlan had spent some time in their travels from the Pillars of Creation teaching Cara how to cook better. She was glad to see it was paying off.

They all ate as fast as they could. The stew was hot so each spoonful required a great deal of blowing to cool it to a consumable temperature. They sat in silence for what seemed like an hour until Richard broke it.

"Very good, Cara." He said.

"Thank you." She said as she gave a self-satisfied smile to Ben who had expressed his skepticism of her culinary skills when she had set about the task. Ben only rolled his eyes.

"So, Ben… I wasn't just trying to butter you up when I said that you fought really well today. You truly did."

The others nodded their agreement, even Cara.

"And that last flurry you used… Wow! I don't think I've ever seen anyone use anything quite like it. Is there anyway you can teach me?"

"You can't fight the way I do, Seeker." Ben replied without even looking up from his bowl. Cara choked on her stew.

"You think that Richard, the Seeker of Truth, the man who defeated the Keeper himself can't learn your simple little technique?" She said with indignation oozing from every syllable.

"Cara!" Richard reprimanded. "I really would like to learn and I'm a fast learner too. Please! I really think it would be interesting."

Ben sighed and put his bowl down.

"Okay, though it isn't really a combat technique. You already have the needed skill with the sword, Seeker. It's more of a decision, an approach to fighting than anything else."

"Okay, teach me."

"Fine. To fight the way I do you need to follow three rules. First, you need to always be prepared to fight. No matter where, no matter when, no matter who or why, you always have to be prepared, at the ready."

"That sounds like the last two years of my life. I think I can handle that one." Richard replied. How true Kahlan thought.

"Okay. Second, you have to study your opponent. You have to know him better than he knows himself. You have to know when he is going to make a move even before he knows. And you have to do this in the few seconds when confrontation becomes conflict."

"I think I can do that, especially with your help."

"Good. And finally third, and this is the hardest one… in battle… when you're fighting your opponent… when steel meets steel and your life hangs in the balance…" Ben said as he looked away. "You have to not care if you live or die!"

Richard eyes opened wide. Ben looked at Richard through his eyebrows. Richard ever so slightly turned and looked at Kahlan. Ben smiled.

"I thought so," Ben said, "You fight well, Seeker. Very well, in fact better than I've ever seen…" then he looked Kahlan in the eye, " but you have too much to live for."

The silence was thick in the air.

"And you don't!" Cara finally said.

Ben quickly turned to face the Mord'Sith as if he were going to scream at her, but gained control over his emotions.

"I have nothing to live for Mistress Cara." He said, emphasizing the last two words to show his disdain.

"Nothing!" Cara said.

"CARA!" Kahlan screamed.

Ben raised his hand to indicate it was alright. Staring into the flames he said.

"Have any of you ever heard the story of Andre of Aroer?"

They all shook their heads no.

"I wouldn't have thought so. It's an old story, an ancient story from back before the Great War. Back thousands of years ago a split had formed between two factions of wizards. One faction believed that the gift was the spark of the creator in each and every one of us, and as such was to be treasured, studied, and used."

"That is what the gift is, isn't it?" Cara asked.

"If that's the case then how do you explain those who have no gift whatsoever? How do you explain those who are so ungifted that magic doesn't even touch them? Are they completely devoid of the creator's touch, the creator's love?"

None of them had an answer. Ben continued the story.

"Meanwhile the other faction believed that magic was to blame for all the problems in the world. That the use of magic, unfairly gave certain people undeserved advantages over others and so the gift should be weeded out of humanity."

"Wizards thought this?" Richard said.

"Why would wizards be looking to eliminate the gift? Wouldn't that mean that they would need to be eliminated as well?" Kahlan asked. She couldn't believe she had never been told this story before. All her life in Aydindril being raised by wizard's and none of them had ever even mentioned anything like this.

"Perhaps. Perhaps they were so vehemently devoted to the goal of eliminating what they saw as inequality created by magic that they were willing to sacrifice their own lives for the cause. Or perhaps they saw the opportunity such an endeavor presented. If they rallied enough to their cause and eliminated everyone else with the gift, they could then rule unopposed using the very thing they claimed to want to eliminate as a means to maintain power. They could use the advantages that magic provided to reign. Either way it really doesn't pertain to this story except to establish the fact that there were two opposing views when it came to magic. The debate actually became so heated and so emotional that the philosophical split actually caused a physical split. Tensions over this issue became so bad that violence broke out between the two sides.

In the streets of Aroer, the capital city of the Midlands in those days and the place where wizard's would gather due to the vast libraries there that held countless volumes of books on magic, the two factions fought, a brief battle with few combatants that resulted in not only some wizards dying but also some civilians. So, in order to avoid anymore such conflict over this issue the two sides parted ways. Those that held to the belief that magic was a gift from the Creator headed north, eventually settling in Aydindril. And those who believed that magic should be eliminated from the world of the living moved south into the Old World.

However, the absence of the other side did not help to quell any animosity toward them. In fact the absence made it worse. Without the other side there to present their case in opposition to the other, the wizard's of each sect became zealots to their cause and grew to hate those who believed otherwise. No debate occurred. You either believed or not. As tensions again built to an even higher level than before, rumors of impending war began to circulate. One side heard that the other was massing an army, so in response they mustered one of their own, news of which, of course, reached the other side who then built an even larger army, and so on.

As rumors of the impending war spread the wizards in Aydindril became worried. In the haste to leave Aroer, they had left the bulk of the books in the libraries. Realizing that the other side was aware of this as well, they knew that they needed some way to insure that those books would not be lost to the wizards of the Old World, who would no doubt destroy them. Those books represented knowledge and power, and needed to be protected at all costs.

Now, they had massed a huge army of wizards, however, such a force would take a great deal of time to move all the way down to Aroer. So, in order to insure that Aroer would remain secure until the main force arrived, they sent one of their most promising young students, one of the most powerful wizards to ever walk the world of the living, a man by the name of Andre.

Knowing that the fate of the world potentially hung on his decision, Andre agreed to undertake the task. He set off with his family, a wife and a little girl, to Aroer. It was a long and difficult journey, but eventually they made it. That very same night an advanced raiding party from the Old World's army came to the city.

Now Andre, though one of the most powerful wizards ever, was also a pacifist. Though he recognized the threat that the Old World represented, he also believed that there could be a peaceful solution to the problem. So, when the raiding party demanded to see the leader of the city Andre went to meet them hoping to maintain peace. He tried to reason with the wizards but got no where. They were stuck in their beliefs. Finally fed up with Andre and his attempts to reason with them, the leader of the raiding party lashed out striking Andre on the head knocking him unconscious. When Andre finally came to he was shocked to learn that the brutes from the Old World had raided the town and taken every last child under the age of eleven. "

"Why?" asked Cara.

"No one really knew. However, it did take all the fight out of the townsfolk. So that was the perceived reason. Andre, his daughter among the missing, however realized that his idealistic fantasies of a peaceful solution to this conflict were nothing more than that… fantasies. So he set about studying in the libraries."

"Studying?" Cara said incredulously.

"Well, he knew that this wouldn't be the last attack. And with the fight all but gone from the people of Aroer, since they were grieving over their children that they presumed were dead, he knew that he was the only hope to keep the vast knowledge of those libraries out of the hands of the Old World. So he set about trying to find some type of spell that could aid him in protecting the town all by himself."

"Did he find it?" Richard asked balancing on the edge of the log, thoroughly intrigued by the story.

"He did. After weeks of study, he found a spell-form for a light web."

"A light web?" Asked Richard.

"It's a very powerful spell that sets off a kind of explosion when triggered. Think Dragon's Breath but on a much larger scale. It is a very dangerous type of spell-form and can only be mastered by the most skilled of wizards." Kahlan responded.

"Very good." Ben said.

"Well, he found this spell-form and set about casting it. It took him a month to be sure he had it right and that all elements of the spell were in place, but eventually he did manage to cast it. The problem was it required him to trigger the spell, so every day and every night Andre would walk the walls of the town, keeping an eye out for the next attack. A few weeks later the main force of the Old World appeared on the plains outside of Aroer. Their number was too vast to count, perhaps in the millions. Point being Andre's, Aroer's and perhaps the entire New World's only hope was the light web he had cast around the town. The next morning the enemy forces advanced on the town. Andre prepared to cast the light web. However, just before he was about to cast it he noticed a terrible thing… It was not soldiers on the front lines of the enemy force, it was the children of Aroer leading the way. Apparently they had been held captive all the time. Knowing that the people of Aroer would not fire on their children, the enemy had bound and gagged them and marched them in front of their front lines. Leading the way directly in the center of the front line was Andre's daughter.

Andre was left with a terrible choice. Should he not trigger the light web, save his daughter, but allow the Old World brutes to ravage the town and its people, and destroy the vast knowledge contained in the libraries, the very knowledge that could save the lives of millions of people in the New World? Or should he trigger the web, killing his beloved daughter yet save countless lives by destroying this invading force from the Old World?"

"What did he do?" Cara asked seeming now to have completely forgotten that she and Ben had just been at each other's throats.

"He triggered it."

"He did?"

"He triggered it, destroying the enemy force and all the children of Aroer along with them, yet saving millions upon millions of others. A week later the New World's army arrived and whisked the books back to the Wizard's Keep in Aydindril and a few other select places.

Of course that wasn't the end of the war. As I'm sure you all know the war raged on for years, however the knowledge that Andre saved in those books most certainly helped the New World prevail."

"What happened to Andre?"

"Well, though he saved millions of people by doing what he did, Andre's wife and the people of Aroer never forgave him for murdering their children. They never really understood that he had no choice. All throughout the Midlands he became known as the "Butcher of Aroer" and could never find a friendly face anywhere he went."

"Why didn't the wizards who sent him to do what he did stand up for him?" Cara asked.

"They were too busy fighting a war to worry about one wizard who had only done as he had been ordered. Andre went into seclusion and died a lonely hermit. One of the most powerful wizards ever to walk the earth died in a hole in the ground."

"That's so sad." Cara said.

"You know the one thing that always bothered me about that story? Had Andre just acted the first time the Old World advance force had showed up, he could have not only saved the books but also his daughter's life." Ben said staring into the fire.

"Is that why 'life isn't fair', Ben?" Richard asked.

Ben looked up from the flames into to Richard's eyes with a look of confused anger on his face. It looked as if he were about to leap over the fire and strangle Richard. Then a slow smile crept across his face as he shook his head.

"You truly are the Seeker of Truth aren't you?" He said very softly.

"What happened Ben?" was all Richard said.