Naked Empire (Sword of Truth Series #8)by Terry Goodkind
Beginning with Wizard's First Rule and continuing with six subsequent fantasy masterpieces, Terry Goodkind has thrilled and awed millions of readers worldwide. Now Goodkind returns with a broad-canvas adventure of epic intrigue, violent conflict, and terrifying peril for the beautiful Kahlan Amnell and her husband, the heroic Richard Rahl, the Sword of Truth/i>
Beginning with Wizard's First Rule and continuing with six subsequent fantasy masterpieces, Terry Goodkind has thrilled and awed millions of readers worldwide. Now Goodkind returns with a broad-canvas adventure of epic intrigue, violent conflict, and terrifying peril for the beautiful Kahlan Amnell and her husband, the heroic Richard Rahl, the Sword of Truth.
Richard Rahl has been poisoned. Saving an empire from annihilation is the price of the antidote. With the shadow of death looming near, the empire crumbling before the invading hordes, and time running out, Richard is offered not only his own life but the salvation of a people, in exchange for delivering his wife, Kahlan, into bondage to the enemy.
“Wonderfully creative, seamless, and stirring.” Kirkus on Wizard's First Rule
“Wonderful.” Kliatt on Stone of Tears
“Each volume of the Sword of Truth...proves more difficult to review than the last. There are only so many was of heaping praise on a series that gets better and better.” SFX on Blood of the Fold
“...outstanding work...adrenaline and characters who actually behave like adults. Highly recommended.” San Diego Union Tribune on Temple of the Winds
“...thoroughly enjoyable.” VOYA on Soul of the Fire
“Mr. Goodkind's compelling prose weaves a magic spell over readers.” Romantic Times on Faith of the Fallen
“Near-perfect pacing, well-realized settings, and superior descriptive narrative.” VOYA on The Pillars of Creation
Read an Excerpt
By Terry Goodkind, Patrick Nielsen Hayden
Tom Doherty AssociatesCopyright © 2003 Terry Goodkind
All rights reserved.
"You knew they were there, didn't you?" Kahlan asked in a hushed tone as she leaned closer.
Against the darkening sky, she could just make out the shapes of three black-tipped races taking to wing, beginning their nightly hunt. That was why he'd stopped. That was what he'd been watching as the rest of them waited in uneasy silence.
"Yes," Richard said. He gestured over his shoulder without turning to look. "There are two more, back there."
Kahlan briefly scanned the dark jumble of rock, but she didn't see any others.
Lightly grasping the silver pommel with two fingers, Richard lifted his sword a few inches, checking that it was clear in its scabbard. A last fleeting glimmer of amber light played across his golden cape as he let the sword drop back in place. In the gathering gloom of dusk, his familiar tall, powerful contour seemed as if it were no more than an apparition made of shadows.
Just then, two more of the huge birds shot by right overhead. One, wings stretched wide, let out a piercing scream as it banked into a tight gliding turn, circling once in assessment of the five people below before stroking its powerful wings to catch its departing comrades in their swift journey west.
This night they would find ample food.
Kahlan expected that as Richard watched them he was thinking of the half brother that until just recently he hadn't known existed. That brother now lay a hard day's travel to the west in a place so naked to the burning sun that few people ever ventured there. Fewer still ever returned. The searing heat, though, had not been the worst of it.
Beyond those desolate lowlands, the dying light silhouetted a remote rim of mountains, making them look as if they had been charred black by the furnace of the underworld itself. As dark as those mountains, as implacable, as perilous, the flight of five pursued the departing light.
Jennsen, standing to the far side of Richard, watched in astonishment. "What in the world ...?"
"Black-tipped races," Richard said.
Jennsen mulled over the unfamiliar name. "I've often watched hawks and falcons and such," she said at last, "but I've never seen any birds of prey that hunt at night, other than owls — and these aren't owls."
As Richard watched the races, he idly gathered small pebbles from the crumbling jut of rock beside him, rattling them in a loose fist. "I'd never seen them before, either, until I came down here. People we've spoken with say they began appearing only in the last year or two, depending on who's telling the story. Everyone agrees, though, that they never saw the races before then."
"Last couple of years ..." Jennsen wondered aloud.
Almost against her will, Kahlan found herself recalling the stories they'd heard, the rumors, the whispered assertions.
Richard cast the pebbles back down the hardpan trail. "I believe they're related to falcons."
Jennsen finally crouched to comfort her brown goat, Betty, pressing up against her skirts. "They can't be falcons." Betty's little white twins, usually either capering, suckling, or sleeping, now huddled mute beneath their mother's round belly. "They're too big to be falcons — they're bigger than hawks, bigger than golden eagles. No falcon is that big."
Richard finally withdrew his glare from the birds and bent to help console the trembling twins. One, eager for reassurance, anxiously peered up at him, licking out its little pink tongue before deciding to rest a tiny black hoof in his palm. With a thumb, Richard stroked the kid's spindly white-haired leg.
A smile softened his features as well as his voice. "Are you saying you choose not to see what you've just seen, then?"
Jennsen smoothed Betty's drooping ears. "I guess the hair standing on end at the back of my neck must believe what I saw."
Richard rested his forearm across his knee as he glanced toward the grim horizon. "The races have sleek bodies with round heads and long pointed wings similar to all the falcons I've seen. Their tails often fan out when they soar but otherwise are narrow in flight."
Jennsen nodded, seeming to recognize his description of relevant attributes. To Kahlan, a bird was a bird. These, though, with red streaks on their chests and crimson at the base of their flight feathers, she had come to recognize.
"They're fast, powerful, and aggressive," Richard added. "I saw one easily chase down a prairie falcon and snatch it out of midair in its talons."
Jennsen looked to be struck speechless by such an account.
Richard had grown up in the vast forests of Westland and had gone on to be a woods guide. He knew a great deal about the outdoors and about animals. Such an upbringing seemed exotic to Kahlan, who had grown up in a palace in the Midlands. She loved learning about nature from Richard, loved sharing his excitement over the wonders of the world, of life. Of course, he had long since come to be more than a woods guide. It seemed a lifetime ago when she'd first met him in those woods of his, but in fact it had only been little more than two and a half years.
Now they were a long way from Richard's simple boyhood home or Kahlan's grand childhood haunts. Had they a choice, they would choose to be in either place, or just about anywhere else, other than where they were. But at least they were together.
After all she and Richard had been through — the dangers, the anguish, the heartache of losing friends and loved ones — Kahlan jealously savored every moment with him, even if it was in the heart of enemy territory.
In addition to only just finding out that he had a half brother, they had also learned that Richard had a half sister: Jennsen. From what they had gathered since they'd met her the day before, she, too, had grown up in the woods. It was heartwarming to see her simple and sincere joy at having discovered a close relation with whom she had much in common. Only her fascination with her new big brother exceeded Jennsen's wide-eyed curiosity about Kahlan and her mysterious upbringing in the Confessors' Palace in the far-off city of Aydindril.
Jennsen had had a different mother than Richard, but the same brutal tyrant, Darken Rahl, had fathered them both. Jennsen was younger, just past twenty, with sky blue eyes and ringlets of red hair down onto her shoulders. She had inherited some of Darken Rahl's cruelly perfect features, but her maternal heritage and guileless nature altered them into bewitching femininity. While Richard's raptor gaze attested to his Rahl paternity, his countenance, and his bearing, so manifest in his gray eyes, were uniquely his own.
"I've seen falcons rip apart small animals," Jennsen said. "I don't believe I much like thinking about a falcon that big, much less five of them together."
Her goat, Betty, looked to share the sentiment.
"We take turns standing watch at night," Kahlan said, answering Jennsen's unspoken fear. While that was hardly the only reason, it was enough.
In the eerie silence, withering waves of heat rose from the lifeless rock all around. It had been an arduous day's journey out from the center of the valley wasteland and across the surrounding flat plain, but none of them complained about the brutal pace. The torturous heat, though, had left Kahlan with a pounding headache. While she was dead tired, she knew that in recent days Richard had gotten far less sleep than any of the rest of them. She could read that exhaustion in his eyes, if not in his stride.
Kahlan realized, then, what it was that had her nerves so on edge: it was the silence. There were no yips of coyotes, no howls of distant wolves, no flutter of bats, no rustle of a raccoon, no soft scramble of a vole — not even the buzz and chirp of insects. In the past, when all those things went silent it had meant potential danger. Here, it was dead silent because nothing lived in this place, no coyotes or wolves or bats or mice or even bugs. Few living things ever trespassed this barren land. Here, the night was as soundless as the stars.
Despite the heat, the oppressive silence ran a chill shiver up through Kahlan's shoulders.
She peered off once more at the races barely still visible against the violet blush of the western sky. They, too, would not stay long in this wasteland where they did not belong.
"Kind of unnerving to encounter such a menacing creature when you never even knew such a thing existed," Jennsen said. She used her sleeve to wipe sweat from her brow as she changed the subject. "I've heard it said that a bird of prey wheeling over you at the beginning of a journey is a warning."
Cara, until then content to remain silent, leaned in past Kahlan. "Just let me get close enough and I'll pluck their wretched feathers." Long blond hair, pulled back into the traditional single braid of her profession, framed Cara's heated expression. "We'll see how much of an omen they are, then."
Cara's glare turned as dark as the races whenever she saw the huge birds. Being swathed from head to foot in a protective layer of gauzy black cloth, as were all of them except Richard, only added to her intimidating presence. When Richard had unexpectedly inherited rule, he had been further surprised to discover that Cara and her sister Mord-Sith were part of the legacy.
Richard returned the little white kid to its watchful mother and stood, hooking his thumbs behind his multilayered leather belt. At each wrist, wide, leather-padded silver bands bearing linked rings and strange symbols seemed to gather and reflect what little light remained. "I once had a hawk circle over me at the beginning of a journey."
"And what happened?" Jennsen asked, earnestly, as if his pronouncement might settle once and for all the old superstition.
Richard's smile widened into a grin. "I ended up marrying Kahlan."
Cara folded her arms. "That only proves it was a warning for the Mother Confessor, not you, Lord Rahl."
Richard's arm gently encircled Kahlan's waist. She smiled with him as she leaned against his embrace in answer to the wordless gesture. That that journey had eventually brought them to be husband and wife seemed more astonishing than anything she would ever have dared dream. Women like her — Confessors — dared not dream of love. Because of Richard, she had dared and had gained it.
Kahlan shuddered to think of the terrible times she had feared he was dead, or worse. There had been so many times she had ached to be with him, to simply feel his warm touch, or to even be granted the mercy of knowing he was safe.
Jennsen glanced at Richard and Kahlan to see that neither took Cara's admonition as anything but fond heckling. Kahlan supposed that to a stranger, especially one from the land of D'Hara, as was Jennsen, Cara's gibes at Richard would defy reason; guards did not bait their masters, especially when their master was the Lord Rahl, the master of D'Hara.
Protecting the Lord Rahl with their lives had always been the blind duty of the Mord-Sith. In a perverse way, Cara's irreverence toward Richard was a celebration of her freedom, paid in homage to the one who had granted it.
By free choice, the Mord-Sith had decided to be Richard's closest protectors. They had given Richard no say in the matter. They often paid little heed to his orders unless they deemed them important enough; they were, after all, now free to pursue what was important to them, and what the Mord-Sith considered important above all else was keeping Richard safe.
Over time, Cara, their ever-present bodyguard, had gradually become like family. Now that family had unexpectedly grown.
Jennsen, for her part, was awestruck to find herself welcomed. From what they had so far learned, Jennsen had grown up in hiding, always fearful that the former Lord Rahl, her father, would finally find her and murder her as he murdered any other ungifted offspring he found.
Richard signaled to Tom and Friedrich, back with the wagon and horses, that they would stop for the night. Tom lifted an arm in acknowledgment and then set to unhitching his team.
No longer able to see the races in the dark void of the western sky, Jennsen turned back to Richard. "I take it their feathers are tipped in black."
Before Richard had a chance to answer, Cara spoke in a silken voice that was pure menace. "They look like death itself drips from the tips of their feathers — like the Keeper of the underworld has been using their wicked quills to write death warrants."
Cara loathed seeing those birds anywhere near Richard or Kahlan. Kahlan shared the sentiment.
Jennsen's gaze fled Cara's heated expression. She redirected her suspicion to Richard.
"Are they causing you ... some kind of trouble?"
Kahlan pressed a fist to her abdomen, against the ache of dread stirred by the question.
Richard appraised Jennsen's troubled eyes. "The races are tracking us."CHAPTER 2
Jennsen frowned. "What?"
Richard gestured between Kahlan and himself. "The races, they're tracking us."
"You mean they followed you out into this wasteland and they're watching you, waiting to see if you'll die of thirst or something so they can pick your bones clean."
Richard slowly shook his head. "No, I mean they're following us, keeping track of where we are."
"I don't understand how you can possibly know —"
"We know," Cara snapped. Her shapely form was as spare, as sleek, as aggressive-looking as the races themselves and, swathed in the black garb of the nomadic people who sometimes traveled the outer fringes of the vast desert, just as sinister-looking.
With the back of his hand against her shoulder, Richard gently eased Cara back as he went on. "We were looking into it when Friedrich found us and told us about you."
Jennsen glanced over at the two men back with the wagon. The sharp sliver of moon floating above the black drape of distant mountains provided just enough light for Kahlan to see that Tom was working at removing the trace chains from his big draft horses while Friedrich unsaddled the others.
Jennsen's gaze returned to search Richard's eyes. "What have you been able to find out, so far?"
"We never had a chance to really find out much of anything. Oba, our surprise half brother lying dead back there, kind of diverted our attention when he tried to kill us." Richard unhooked a waterskin from his belt. "But the races are still watching us."
He handed Kahlan his waterskin, since she had left hers hanging on her saddle. It had been hours since they had last stopped. She was tired from riding and weary from walking when they had needed to rest the horses.
Kahlan lifted the waterskin to her lips only to be reacquainted with how bad hot water tasted. At least they had water. Without water, death came quickly in the unrelenting heat of the seemingly endless, barren expanse around the forsaken place called the Pillars of Creation.
Jennsen slipped the strap of her waterskin off her shoulder before hesitantly starting again. "I know it's easy to misconstrue things. Look at how I was tricked into thinking you wanted to kill me just like Darken Rahl had. I really believed it, and there were so many things that seemed to me to prove it, but I had it all wrong. I guess I was just so afraid it was true, I believed it."
Richard and Kahlan both knew it hadn't been Jennsen's doing — she had merely been a means for others to get at Richard — but it had squandered precious time.
Jennsen took a long drink. Still grimacing at the taste of the water, she lifted the waterskin toward the empty desert behind them. "I mean, there isn't much alive out here — it might actually be that the races are hungry and are simply waiting to see if you die out here and, because they do keep watching and waiting, you've begun to think it's more." She gave Richard a demure glance, bolstered by a smile, as if hoping to cloak the admonishment as a suggestion. "Maybe that's all it really is."
"They aren't waiting to see if we die out here," Kahlan said, wanting to end the discussion so they could eat and Richard could get some sleep. "They were watching us before we had to come here. They've been watching us since we were back in the forests to the northeast. Now, let's have some supper and —"
"But why? That's not the way birds behave. Why would they do that?"
"I think they're keeping track of us for someone," Richard said. "More precisely, I think someone is using them to hunt us."
Excerpted from Naked Empire by Terry Goodkind, Patrick Nielsen Hayden. Copyright © 2003 Terry Goodkind. Excerpted by permission of Tom Doherty Associates.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Meet the Author
Terry Goodkind is a #1 New York Times bestselling author. His books include the eleven-volume Sword of Truth series, beginning with Wizard's First Rule, the basis for the television show Legend of the Seeker. Goodkind was born and raised in Omaha, Nebraska, where he also attended art school. Alongside a career in wildlife art, he has also been a cabinetmaker and a violin maker, and he has done restoration work on rare and exotic artifacts from around the world -- each with its own story to tell, he says. While continuing to maintain the northeastern home he built with his own hands, in recent years he and his wife Jeri have created a second home in the desert Southwest, where he now spends the majority of his time.
Terry Goodkind is a #1 New York Times bestselling author. His books include the eleven-volume Sword of Truth series, beginning with Wizard’s First Rule, the basis for the television show Legend of the Seeker. Goodkind was born and raised in Omaha, Nebraska, where he also attended art school. Alongside a career in wildlife art, he has also been a cabinetmaker and a violin maker, and he has done restoration work on rare and exotic artifacts from around the world -- each with its own story to tell, he says. While continuing to maintain the northeastern home he built with his own hands, in recent years he and his wife Jeri have created a second home in the desert Southwest, where he now spends the majority of his time.
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Very disappointing, 400 pages of the book are just recaps of the previous books in the series. The characters are constantly stopping the action to explain their actions based on recaps of other books in the series. Several characters seem to have no purpose other than to recap the prior books. The heavy hand of an editor who wanted to make the book stand by itself (without the reader having read the prior books in the series) is quite evident. You usually see this when a writer changes publishers. I've already purchased 'Chainfire', but haven't started it yet, but if it takes 300 to 400 pages to get the story moving this may be the end my purchasing Terry Goodkind novels.
In the Eight installment of The Sword of Truth, Goodkind takes readers to the Bandakaran Empire, a place pass up through the mountains, to the East from The Pillars of Creation. Goodkind's "Naked Empire" is the follow up to " Pillars of Creation" a must read for those unanswered questions. While the previous installment dealt with those pristinely ungifted people, descendants of the house of Rahl, "Naked Empire" details the genesis of those " Banished" who were victims of fate. While not being strange to readers, the ongoing war between Emperor Jagang and Lord Rahl, has been explored from both sides. In this installment, However; the author aims at the Imperial Order's vicious ideology, the real force behind the conflict between both worlds. In "Naked Empire" Goodkind explores the world before Richard and Kahlan, and the pristinely ungifted people of Bandakar, the great attempt to alter the very nature of mankind. For beyond is evil: Those who cannot see. While Jagang has managed to capture the Wizard's Keep, and along with the Sisters of the Dark being able to construct those human weapons from the ancient war, Richard has been poisoned, meanwhile, his gift has mysteriously started to decay. "Naked Empire" is the colossal return of Goodkind to the foundations of a new kind of people, to the Pillars of Creation. Goodkind's creative writing succeeds again. Taken from the ancient book "The Pillars of Creation", and an Empire built by Kaja-Rang, a Wizard from the times of the great war. Goodkind's imagination, and spellbinding world prevails again. The story of Kahlan and Richard continues, In the eight installment, The sword of truth becomes difficult to resist. The author takes readers back to Aydindril, Home of the Confessors, and the Wizard's Keep, The people's palace,and to an unknown world known as the Bandakar Empire. In a spellbinding world surrounded by Wizards, Mord-siths, prophets, the sisters of the Dark, the ungifted descendants of the House of Rahl, Slides, and Betty the Goat.
The last 100 pages of this book are all that's worth reading. Goodkind bores us with too much babbling. Not much of this book contributes to moving along the general themes and goals of the series. You're okay to skip much of this book without losing vital information.
Some people I know shy away from reading long or wordy books. When it comes to Goodkind, they shouldn't. He is an excellent author who fills his books with courageous and intelligent characters. This book just proves my point! It is another outstanding read filled with strong and intelligent social and theological principles. His books have taught me quite a bit, and even though I am only 16, I know I have learned how to become a better person because of them. Read this Book and all of his others.
Hate to put these books down even to eat or go to bed!
Terry Goodkind is a master of extending the story line and still keeping it interesting. He deals with in depth issues such when is it right; or is it right, to kill another person in defense of our freedoms. The extent of segrating peoples simply because they are different. Each persons responsibility to defend their own freedoms and the equality of all people. But! He does it in such a way that it blends with the story, it becomes part of what you are reading with out jumping out at you and screaming for attention. The bravery and dedication of the main characters to the cause of freedom and the right to be what ever you choose to be is inspiring and uplifting. Goodkind also delves into the thesis of God and Satan; good and evil. I'm not even sure if he realized he was doing so at the time he was writing it, but the concept of "The Keeper" and "The Creator" are consistent throughout the series. One word of caution though; Goodkind is very graphic in his description of evil and the atrosities that evil men do. He does not hesitate to describe rape or murder in all it's gory horror. But then perhaps it must be so for the reader to fully grasp the horror of the event befalling the world at large. the Sword of Truth Series will challenge you to consider the descisions we all make in real life and all the while carrying us away to another world and time to feel the trails and triumphs of our heros and heroins as they stand in the path of evil and vigilantly guard the way against trespass.
Somewhere around page 475 I started rooting for the poison. This is really sad considering how good the first book in this series was.
This book sets new standards for bad books. Possibly the worst book i have ever read in any genre. It starts out with 200 pages of recap from the last book. Then richard gets poisoned(!) by a group of hippies to force him to come rescue them from the evil order to get his antidote. With a couple of endless repeptitive uninspiring, and incredibly boring speaches, richard convinces these hippies to give up their 3000 year old tradition of non-violence. Then he lets his new army of hippies slaughter a group of unarmed hippies that dont want to fight before he takes on this books evil villian. All of this with his noble sidekick, a goat.
The first 4 books in the Sword of Truth series are great. Unfortunately the last couple books have not been very good. This is a book in which plot and character development takes a backseat to the authors political and social commentary. The first couple hundred pages are focused on describing what already happened in past books. The majority of the book is simply the same speach about personal responsibilty repeated to every new character that Richard comes into contact with. The ending of the book is one of the worst examples of deus ex machina I have ever had the misfortune of reading. It's almost as if Goodkind discovered that he couldn't think of a way to solve the problem Richard faced so he just wrote the equivelant of 'Richard wanted everything to be better, so everthing got better'.
This was a very welcome read after the uphill climb through The Pillars of Creation. Back to the story of Richard and Kahlan. Classic Terry Goodkind, what we have come to expect and love!
Since watching the tv series and having that come to an end i decided to read the series. It was really nice to read and be able to put a face to the characters. I think the books are even better for it. I don't usually read the reviews before reading a book especially since it's in a series and i'm going to read it anyway, but for some reason i read this one and found almost all the negative reviews to once again be unneccesarily harsh. As like the others i thought the story well written and at times found myself not being able to put my nook down until some of the characters had gotten through what ever ordeal they were going through. I think this story has had more suspense than some of the others. I can't wait to get started on the next. I give it 5 stars.
It is different from his other books, but it is still good as it shows a whole new civilization that we don't know about in his world.
Although different from most of the sword of Truth series, The Naked Empire is no less of a masterpiece. Unlike the other reviews, I believe that this is an interesting take to show a different side of Richard. I believe this shows that Richard's power is not only in the Sword and magic, but in his personality and force of will. I thought Goodkind also had an interesting plot to make such a powerful man as Richard to fall down. (Although foreseen that they would use his weakness Kahlan, I still thought that how he did it was creative). Although, I must say, perhaps not his best book, still a wonderful addition to the the Sword of Truth series none-the-less. Great Job Goodkind.
The Sword Of Truth novels are by far the absolute best series I've ever read. Each and every book captivated me and I litterally couldn't put any of them down. The realism of the conflicts and characters emotions are portrayed in a way that you can really get inside the book and it's like you're in their world. It's just amazing.
|BACKUP SAFEHOUSE|.This backup safehouse is the property of the Empire.To all members of the Empire:If we need a safe place to go,and the safehouse has fallen;this is our sanctuary.This backup safehouse is safe from our enemies and is the place to regroup and prepare to strike back against our enemies.Long live the Empire!To everyone who is not a member of the Empire:Stay out;This is property of the Empire. |BACKUP SAFEHOUSE|
I know you are reading this. Do not deny it. And yes. I am talking to YOU. Not the other guys that are reading this. You.
Just finished it snd i Loved it!
This is by far the best book in the series.