Temple of the Winds (Sword of Truth Series #4)

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Overview

Return to the world of Richard Cypher, whose adventures have stirred the blood and filled the hearts of legions of satisfied readers. When Richard was a simple woods guide, he never dreamed he would get caught up in magic, war, and dangers so extraordinary that the fate of his entire world would hang on his actions and decisions. Over the course of his journeys Richard learned to accept his true role, first as the Seeker and the wielder of the Sword of Truth, and then, in Stone of Tears, as the new Lord Rahl and ...
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Temple of the Winds (Sword of Truth Series #4)

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Overview

Return to the world of Richard Cypher, whose adventures have stirred the blood and filled the hearts of legions of satisfied readers. When Richard was a simple woods guide, he never dreamed he would get caught up in magic, war, and dangers so extraordinary that the fate of his entire world would hang on his actions and decisions. Over the course of his journeys Richard learned to accept his true role, first as the Seeker and the wielder of the Sword of Truth, and then, in Stone of Tears, as the new Lord Rahl and the war wizard who led the fight against the Keeper and his dark minions. Everything Richard has learned thus far, all the wisdom, the magic, and the conviction he holds, will be for naught as the power-mad Emperor Jagang returns with his multitude of demonic underlings. For Richard must now challenge the impossible: the magic that thwarts magic, the three-thousand-years-sealed-away fortress of evil that has begun to infect the world with a terrible, sorcerous plague. He must find the Temple of the Winds. But once the shadow of betrayal falls across that mission, Richard must accept the Truth and find a way to undo the damage...or his world will perish.
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Editorial Reviews

VOYA - Elaine McGuire
In this Book Four of the Sword of Truth series, Richard the Seeker (also Lord Rahl and megapowerful Wizard) must fulfill a bound fork prophecy (meaning one of two unavoidable paths will happen). One fork takes him to the legendary Temple to cure the world of a deadly plague caused by nasty Emperor Jagang, but this same fork also promises the betrayal of his beloved Kahlan, the Mother Confessor. Bound to duty, Richard and Kahlan choose to save the world (how nice) and lose each other. Kahlan marries the feigning good but really bad half-brother Drefan Rahl, and Richard takes the plague into himself. Meanwhile, the ancient wizard Zedd and Sister (of the Light) Ann are captured by a procession of tribal peoples who threaten to sacrifice and/or enslave them, but the pair acts so goofy the natives think their gods would not be satisfied. Subplots abound (involving sisters of the Dark and the Light, Prophets, political conspiracies against Richard, etc.), and it is miraculous that all the strands come together neatly at the end. The author must have one heck of an outline. Richard's haphazard but effective powers, plus a healthy dose of wit help keep the book surprisingly light. This definitely is for readers who already love this series. (An untidy thread does exist, of course, promising a Book Five, featuring a freed Keeper of the Underworld, perhaps?). VOYA Codes: 4Q 2P S (Better than most, marred only by occasional lapses, For the YA with a special interest in the subject, Senior High-defined as grades 10 to 12).
San Diego Union Tribune
Terry Goodkind once again demonstrates that fantasy writing works as a vehicle for exploring adult themes. While employing all of the action and magic typical of the genre, he incorporates a rare sense of realism. Characters laugh, make love and die unexpectedly and brutally.
Kirkus Reviews
Another independently intelligible doorstopper addition to Goodkind's Sword of Truth series (Blood of the Fold, 1996, etc.). This time, sword-wielder and wizard Richard Rahl, his warrior beloved Kahlan, grandfather Zedd, and the rest of the cast are threatened by the Imperial Order and their dream walker, Jagang, who sends a wizard-assassin, Marlin, to kill Richard. Meanwhile, old flame Nadine, befuddled by a witch, shows up intending to marry Richard; close behind comes the healer Drefan, Richard's half- brother. Marlin/Jagang announces gleefully that he's caught Richard in a "bound fork prophesy," a fancy way of saying heads I win, tails you lose.

Another one for the fans.

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780812551488
  • Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
  • Publication date: 8/1/1998
  • Series: Sword of Truth Series , #4
  • Format: Mass Market Paperback
  • Edition description: Reprint
  • Pages: 992
  • Sales rank: 71,796
  • Product dimensions: 4.10 (w) x 6.70 (h) x 1.90 (d)

Meet the Author

Terry Goodkind

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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Read an Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

Let me kill him," Cara said, her boot strikes sounding like rawhide mallets hammering the polished marble floor.

The supple leather boots Kahlan wore beneath her elegant, white Confessor's dress whispered against the cold stone as she tried to keep pace without letting her legs break into a run.

"No."

Cara exhibited no response, keeping her blue eyes ahead to the wide corridor stretching into the distance. A dozen leather- and chain-mail-clad D'Haran soldiers, their unadorned swords sheathed, or crescent-bladed battle-axes hooked on belt hangers, crossed at an intersection just ahead. Though their weapons weren't drawn, every wooden hilt was gripped in a ready fist as vigilant eyes scrutinized the shadows among the doorways and columns to each side. Their hasty bows toward Kahlan only briefly interrupted their attention to their task.

"We can't just kill him," Kahlan explained. "We need answers."

An eyebrow lifted over one icy blue eye. "Oh, I didn't say he wouldn't give us answers before he dies. He will answer any question you have when I'm finished with him." A mirthless smile ghosted across her flawless face. "That is the job of a Mord-Sith: getting people to answer questions"—she paused as the smile returned to widen with professional satisfaction—"before they die."

Kahlan heaved a sigh. "Cara, that's no longer your job—your life. Your job now is to protect Richard."

"That is why you should let me kill him. We should not take a risk by letting this man live."

"No. We first have to find out what's going on, and we're not going to start out doing it the way you want."

Cara's smile, humorless as it was, had vanished again. "As you wish, Mother Confessor."

Kahlan wondered how the woman had managed to change into her skintight red leather outfit so fast. Whenever there was so much as a whiff of trouble, at least one of the three Mord-Sith seemed to materialize out of nowhere in her red leather. Red, as they often pointed out, didn't show blood.

"Are you sure he said that, this man? Those were his words?"

"Yes, Mother Confessor, his exact words. You should let me kill him before he has a chance to try to bring them to pass."

Kahlan ignored the repeated request as they hurried on down the hall. "Where's Richard?"

"You wish me to get Lord Rahl?"

"No! I just want to know where he is, in case there's trouble."

"I would say that this qualifies as trouble."

"You said that there must be two hundred soldiers holding weapons on him. How much trouble can one man cause with all those swords, axes, and arrows pointed at him?"

"My former master, Darken Rahl, knew that steel alone could not always ward danger. That is why he had Mord-Sith nearby and at the ready."

"That evil man would kill people without even bothering to determine if they were really a danger to him. Richard isn't like that, and neither am I. You know that if there is a true threat, I'm not shy about eliminating it; but if this man is more than he seems, then why is he so timidly cowering before all that steel? Besides, as a Confessor I am hardly defenseless against threats that steel won't stop.

"We have to keep our heads. Let's not start leaping to judgments that may be unwarranted."

"If you don't think he could be trouble, then why am I nearly running to just keep up with you?"

Kahlan realized that she was a half a step ahead of the woman. She slowed her pace to a brisk walk. "Because it's Richard we're talking about," she said in a near whisper.

Cara smirked. "You're as worried as I."

"Of course I am. But for all we know, killing this man, if he is more than he seems, could be springing a snare."

"You could be right, but that is the purpose for Mord-Sith."

"So, where is Richard?"

Cara gripped the red leather at her wrist and stretched her armor-backed glove tighter onto her hand as she flexed her fist. Her Agiel, an awesome weapon that appeared to be nothing more than a finger-width foot-long red leather rod, dangled from a fine gold chain at her right wrist, ever at the ready. One just like it, but no weapon in Kahlan's hands, hung on a chain around Kahlan's neck. It had been a gift from Richard, a gift that symbolized the pain and sacrifice they had both endured.

"He is out behind the palace, in one of the private parks." Cara gestured over her shoulder. "The one that way. Raina and Berdine are with him."

Kahlan was relieved to hear that the other two Mord-Sith were watching over him. "Something to do with his surprise for me?"

"What surprise?"

Kahlan smiled. "Surely he's told you, Cara."

Cara snatched a glimpse out of the corner of her eye. "Of course he has told me."

"Then what is it?"

"He also told me not to tell you."

Kahlan shrugged. "I won't tell him that you told me."

Cara's laugh, like her smile before, bore no humor. "Lord Rahl has a peculiar way of finding out things, especially those things you wish him not to know."

Kahlan knew the truth of that. "So what's he doing out there?"

The muscles in Cara's jaw flexed. "Outdoor things. You know Lord Rahl; he likes to do outdoor things."

Kahlan glanced over to see that Cara's face had turned nearly as red as her leather outfit. "What sort of outdoor things?"

Cara cleared her throat into her armored fist. "He is taming chipmunks."

"He's what? I can't hear you."

Cara waved an impatient hand. "He said that the chipmunks have come out to test the warming weather. He is taming them." Her cheeks rounded as she huffed. "With seeds."

Kahlan smiled at the thought of Richard, the man she loved, the man who had seized command of D'Hara, and had much of the Midlands now eating out of his hand, having a fine afternoon teaching chipmunks to eat seeds out of his hand.

"Well, that sounds innocent enough—feeding seeds to chipmunks."

Cara flexed her armored fist again as they swept between two D'Haran guards. "He is teaching them to eat those seeds," she said through clenched teeth, "out of Raina and Berdine's hands. The two of them were giggling!" She aimed a mortified expression toward the ceiling as she threw her hands up. Her Agiel swung on the gold chain at her wrist. "Mord-Sith—giggling!"

Kahlan pressed her lips tight, trying to keep from breaking into laughter. Cara pulled her long blond braid forward, over her shoulder, stroking it in a way that provoked in Kahlan an unsettling memory of the way Shota, the witch woman, stroked her snakes.

"Well," Kahlan said, trying to cool the other woman's indignation, "maybe it's not by their choice. They are bonded to him. Perhaps Richard ordered it, and they're simply obeying him."

Cara shot her an incredulous look. Kahlan knew that any of the three Mord-Sith would defend Richard to the death—they had shown themselves prepared to sacrifice their lives without hesitation—but though they were bonded to him through magic, they disregarded his orders wantonly if they judged them trivial, unimportant, or unwise. Kahlan imagined that it was because Richard had given them their freedom from the rigid principles of their profession, and they enjoyed exercising that freedom. Darken Rahl, their former master, Richard's father, would have killed them in a heartbeat had he even suspected that they were considering disobeying his orders, no matter how trivial they were.

"The sooner you wed Lord Rahl the better. Then, instead of teaching chipmunks to eat out of Mord-Sith hands, he will be eating out of yours."

Kahlan exhaled in a soft, lilting laugh, thinking about being his wife. It wouldn't be long, now. "Richard will have my hand, but you should know as well as anyone that he will not be eating out of it—and I wouldn't want him to."

"If you regain your senses, come see me, and I will teach you how." Cara turned her attention to the alert D'Haran soldiers. Men at arms were rushing everywhere, checking every hall and looking behind every door, no doubt at Cara's insistence.

"Egan is with Lord Rahl, too. He should be safe while we see to this man."

Kahlan's mirth withered. "How did he get in here, anyway? Did he come in with the petitioners?"

"No." A professional chill settled back into Cara's tone. "But I intend to find out. From what I gather, he just walked up to a patrol of guards not far from the council chambers and asked where he could find Lord Rahl, as if just anyone can walk in and ask to see the Master of D'Hara, as if he was a head butcher that anyone can go to if they want a choice cut of mutton."

"That's when the guards asked him why he wanted to see Richard?"

Cara nodded. "I think we should kill him."

Realization wormed up Kahlan's spine in a cold tingle. Cara wasn't simply an aggressive bodyguard, unconcerned about spilling the blood of others—she was afraid. She was afraid for Richard.

"I want to know how he got in here. He presented himself to a patrol inside the palace; he shouldn't have been able to get inside, wandering around unfettered. What if we have a hitherto-unknown breach in security? Wouldn't it be better to find out before another comes without the courtesy of announcing himself?"

"We can find out if you let me do it my way."

"We don't know enough yet; he could end up dead before we find out anything, then the danger to Richard could become greater."

"All right," Cara said with a sigh, "we will do it your way, as long as you understand that I have orders to follow."

"What orders?"

"Lord Rahl told us to protect you as we would protect him." With a toss of her head, Cara flicked her blond braid back over her shoulder. "If you are not careful, Mother Confessor, and needlessly endanger Lord Rahl with your restraint, I will withdraw my permission for Richard to keep you."

Kahlan laughed. Her laughter died out when Cara didn't so much as smile. She was never entirely sure when the Mord-Sith were joking and when they were being deadly serious.

"In here," Kahlan said. "It's shorter this way, and besides, I want to see what petitioners are waiting, in view of our strange visitor. He could even be a diversion to draw our attention away from someone else—the true threat."

Cara's brow twitched as if she had been slighted. "Why do you think I had Petitioners' Hall sealed and ringed with guards?"

"You did it surreptitiously, I hope. There's no need to frighten the wits out of innocent petitioners."

"I told the officers not to frighten the people in there if they didn't have to, but our first responsibility is to protect Lord Rahl."

Kahlan nodded. She couldn't argue with that.

Two heavily muscled guards bowed, along with twenty others nearby, before pulling open the tall, brassbound doors leading to an arcaded passageway. A stone rail supported by fat, vase-shaped balusters ran along the white marble pillars. The barrier, separating the petitioners in the hundred-foot-long room from the officials' passageway, was symbolic rather than real. Skylights thirty feet overhead lit the waiting room, but left the length of the passageway to the muted golden light of lamps hung in the peak of each small vault in its ceiling.

It was a long-standing custom for people—petitioners—to come to the Confessors' Palace to seek any number of things, from settlement of disagreements over the rights of peddlers to coveted street corners, to officials of different lands seeking armed intervention in border disputes. Matters that could be handled by city officials were directed to the proper offices. Matters brought by dignitaries of the lands, if those matters were deemed to be important enough, or could be handled in no other way, were taken before the council. Petitioners' Hall was where officers of protocol determined the disposition of requests.

When Darken Rahl, Richard's father, had attacked the Midlands, many of the officials in Aydindril had been killed, among them Saul Witherrin, the Chief of Protocol, along with most of his office. Richard had defeated Darken Rahl, and being the gifted heir, had ascended to Master of D'Hara. He had ended the bickering and battling among the lands of the Midlands by demanding their surrender in order to forge them all into a force capable of withstanding the common threat from the Old World, from the Imperial Order.

Kahlan found it unsettling to be the Mother Confessor who had reigned over the end of the Midlands as a formal entity, a union of sovereign lands, but she knew that her first responsibility was to the lives of the people, not to tradition; if not stopped, the Imperial Order would cast the world into slavery, and the people of the Midlands would be its chattel. Richard had accomplished what his father could not, but did so for entirely different reasons. She loved Richard and knew his benevolent intent in seizing power.

Soon they would be wedded, and their marriage would unite the Midlands and D'Hara in peace and unity for all time. More than that, though, it would be a personal fulfillment of their love and deepest desire: to be one.

Kahlan missed Saul Witherrin; he had been a capable aide. With the council now dead, too, and the Midlands now a part of D'Hara, matters of protocol were in disarray. A few frustrated D'Haran officers were standing at the railing, attempting to minister to the petitioners' needs.

As she entered, Kahlan's gaze swept the waiting crowd, analyzing the nature of problems brought to the palace this day. By their dress, most appeared to be people from the surrounding city of Aydindril: labors, shopkeepers, and merchants.

She saw a knot of children she knew from the day before when Richard had taken her to watch them playing a game of Ja'La. It was the first time she had seen the fast-paced game, and it had been an entertaining diversion for a couple of hours: to watch children play and laugh. The children probably wanted Richard to come watch another game; he had been an ardent supporter of each team. Even if he had picked one team to cheer over the other, Kahlan doubted it would have made any difference; children were drawn to Richard, seeming to instinctively sense his kind heart.

Kahlan recognized several diplomats from a few of the smaller lands, who she hoped had come to accept Richard's offer of a peaceful surrender and union into D'Haran rule. She knew the leaders of those lands, and was expecting them to heed her urging to join with them in the cause of freedom.

She recognized, too, a group of diplomats from some of the larger lan63ds that had standing armies. They had been expected, and later that day Richard and Kahlan were to meet with them, along with any oher newly arrived representatives, to hear their decision.

She wished Richard would find himself something more suitable to wear. His woods clothes had served him well, but he now needed to present a more fitting image of the position he found himself in. He was so much more than a woods guide now.

Having served nearly her whole life as a person of authority, Kahlan knew that it often smoothed matters of leadership if you matched people's expectations. Kahlan doubted people who needed a woods guide would have followed Richard if he hadn't dressed for the woods. In a way, Richard was their guide in this treacherous new world of untested allegiances and new enemies. He often asked her advice; she was going to have to talk to him about his clothes.

When the people assembled saw the Mother Confessor striding into the passageway, conversation stilled and they began going to a knee in deep bows. Despite the fact that she was of an unprecedentedly young age for the post, there was no one of higher authority in the Midlands than the Mother Confessor. The Mother Confessor was the Mother Confessor, no matter the face of the woman who held the office. People bowed not so much to the woman as to that ancient authority.

Matters of Confessors were an enigma to most people of the Midlands; Confessors chose the Mother Confessor. To Confessors, age was of secondary consideration.

Though she was chosen to preserve the freedoms and rights of the people of the Midlands, people rarely saw it in those terms. To most, a ruler was a ruler. Some were good, some were bad. As the ruler of rulers, the Mother Confessor encouraged the good, and suppressed the bad. If a ruler proved bad enough, it was within her power to eliminate them. That was the ultimate purpose of a Mother Confessor. To most people, though, such far removed matters of governance simply seemed the squabbling of rulers.

In the sudden silence that filled Petitioners' Hall, Kahlan paused to acknowledge the gathered visitors.

A young woman standing against the far wall watched as all those around her fell to one knee. She glanced in Kahlan's direction, back to those kneeling, and then followed suit.

Kahlan's brow tightened.

In the Midlands, the length of a woman's hair denoted her power and standing. Matters of power, no matter how trivial they might seem on the surface, were taken seriously in the Midlands. Not even a queen's hair was allowed to be as long as a Confessor's, and no Confessor's hair was as long as that of the Mother Confessor.

This woman had a thick mass of brown hair close to the length of Kahlan's.

Kahlan knew nearly every person of high rank in the Midlands; it was her duty, and she took it seriously. A woman with hair that long was obviously a person of high standing, but Kahlan didn't recognize her. There was likely to be no man or woman in the entire city, other than Kahlan, who would outrank the woman—if she was in fact from the Midlands.

"Rise, my children," Kahlan said in formal response to the tops of the waiting, bowed heads.

Dresses and coats rustled as everyone began coming to their feet, most keeping their eyes to the floor, out of respect, or needless fear. The woman rose to her feet, twisting a simply made kerchief in her fingers, watching those around her. She turned her brown eyes to the floor, as most of the others were.

"Cara," Kahlan whispered, "could that woman there, with the long hair, be from D'Hara?"

Cara had been watching her, too; she had learned some of the customs of the Midlands. Though Cara's long blond hair was about the length of Kahlan's, she was D'Haran. They didn't live by the same customs.

"Her nose is too 'cute' to be D'Haran."

"I'm serious. Do you think she could be D'Haran?"

Cara studied the woman a moment longer. "I doubt it. D'Haran women don't wear flower-print dresses, nor are the dresses they do wear of that cut. But clothes can be changed to fit the occasion, or to fit in with local people."

The dress didn't really fit the local dress of Aydindril, but it might not be so out of place in other, more remote, areas of the Midlands. Kahlan nodded and turned to a waiting captain, motioning him over.

He leaned his head close as she spoke in a low tone. "There is a woman with long brown hair standing against the wall in the back, over my left shoulder. Do you see who I'm talking about?"

"The pretty one, in the blue kirtle?"

"Yes. Do you know why she's here?"

"She said she wished to speak with Lord Rahl."

Kahlan's brow drew tighter. She noticed that Cara's did, too. "What about?"

"She said that she's looking for a man—Cy something—I didn't recognize his name. She said he's been missing since last autumn, and she was told that Lord Rahl would be able to help her."

"Is that right," Kahlan said. "And did she say what business she has with this missing man?"

The captain glanced to the woman and then brushed his sandy hair back from his forehead. "She said that she's to marry him."

Kahlan nodded. "It could be that she's a dignitary, but if she is, I'm embarrassed to admit that I don't know her name."

The captain glanced at a tattered list with scribbles all over it. He turned the paper and scanned the other side until he found what he was looking for. "She said her name was Nadine. She gave no title."

"Well, please see to it that Lady Nadine is taken to a private waiting room where she will be comfortable. Tell her that I will come speak with her and see if I can help. Have dinner brought to her, along with anything else she might require. Give her my apology and tell her that I have something of vital importance that I must attend to first, but I will come see her as soon as I am able, and that I wish to do what I can to help her."

Kahlan could understand the woman's distress if she really was separated from her love and was searching for him. Kahlan had been in that situation herself and knew well the anguish.

"I'll see to it at once, Mother Confessor."

"One other thing, captain." Kahlan watched the woman twisting her kerchief. "Tell Lady Nadine that there is trouble about, what with the war with the Old World, and that for her own safety we must insist that she remain in the room until I can come to speak with her. Post a heavy guard outside the room. Place archers at a safe distance down the hall to either side of the door.

"If she comes out, insist that she must return to the room at once and wait. If you must, tell her that it is by my command. If she still tries to leave"—Kahlan looked into the captain's waiting blue eyes—"kill her."

The captain bowed as Kahlan swept on through the passageway, Cara right at her heels.

"Well, well," Cara said, once outside Petitioners' Hall, "at last the Mother Confessor comes to her senses. I knew I had a good reason for allowing Lord Rahl to keep you. You will make him a worthy wife."

Kahlan turned down the corridor toward the room where guards held the man. "I haven't changed my mind about anything, Cara. Considering our strange visitor, I'm giving Lady Nadine every chance to live, every chance I can afford to give, but you're mistaken if you think I'll balk at doing whatever it takes to protect Richard. Besides being the man I love more than life itself, Richard is a man of vital importance to the freedom of the people of both D'Hara and the Midlands. There's no telling what the Imperial Order would try in order to get to him."

Cara smiled, sincerely, this time. "I know he loves you the same. That's why I don't like you going to see this man; Lord Rahl may separate me from my hide if he thinks I allowed you near danger."

"Richard is one born with the gift; I, too, have been born with magic. Darken Rahl sent quads to kill the Confessors because there is little danger to a Confessor from one man."

Kahlan felt the familiar, yet distant anguish of their deaths. Distant, because it seemed so long ago, though it had been hardly a year. For months, in the beginning, she had felt as if she should be dead along with her sister Confessors, and that she had somehow betrayed them by escaping all the traps laid for her. Now, she was the last.

With a flick of her wrist, Cara snapped her Agiel into her fist. "Even a man, like Lord Rahl, born with the gift? Even a wizard?"

"Even a wizard, and even if, unlike Richard, he knows how to use his power. I not only know how to use mine, I am very experienced at it. I long ago lost count of the number…"

As Kahlan's words trailed off, Cara considered her Agiel, rolling it in her fingers. "I guess there is even less than 'little' danger—with me there."

When they reached the richly carpeted and paneled corridor they were seeking, it was thick with soldiers and bristling with steel from swords, axes, and pikes. The man was being held in a small, elegant reading room close to the rather simple one Richard liked to use for meeting with officers and for studying the journal he had found in the Wizard's Keep. The soldiers hadn't wanted to risk an escape attempt and had simply stuffed the man in the room nearest to the spot they found him, pinning him down until it could be decided what was to be done.

Kahlan gently took the elbow of a soldier to urge him back out of the way. The muscles of his bare arm felt as hard as iron. His pike, pointed toward the closed door, could hardly have been more steady had it been embedded in granite. There had to be fifty pikes likewise aimed at the silent door. More men, gripping swords or axes, hunkered beneath the pike points.

The guard turned as Kahlan tugged on his arm. "Let me through, soldier."

The man gave way. Others glanced back and began moving aside. Cara shouldered her way ahead of Kahlan, pushing men out of the way. They did so reluctantly, not out of disrespect, but out of concern for the danger that waited beyond the door. Even as they moved aside, they kept their weapons pointed toward the thick oak door.

Inside, the windowless, dimly lit room smelled of leather and sweat. A lanky man squatted on the edge of an embroidered footstool. He seemed too spare, should he make the wrong move, to permit all the steel aimed at him to find a virgin patch to penetrate. His young eyes dithered among the steel and grim glares until he caught sight of Kahlan's approaching white dress. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he looked up expectantly.

When the burly soldiers in leather and chain mail behind him saw Kahlan and Cara forcing their way into the room, one of them landed the side of his boot on the small of the young man's back, pitching him forward.

"Kneel, you filthy cur."

The young man, dressed in an outsized soldier's uniform that looked to have been scrounged together from dissimilar sources, peered up at Kahlan, then over his shoulder at the man who had kicked him. He ducked his head of disheveled dark hair and shielded it with a gangly arm, expecting a blow.

"That's enough," Kahlan said in a quietly authoritative tone. "Cara and I wish to speak with him. All of you, wait outside, please."

The soldiers balked, reluctant to life a weapon from the young man cowering on the floor.

"You heard her," Cara said. "Out."

"But—" an officer began.

"You doubt that a Mord-Sith is capable of handling this one scrawny man? Now, go wait outside."

Kahlan was surprised that Cara hadn't raised her voice. Mord-Sith didn't have to raise their voices to get people to follow their orders, but still it surprised her, considering Cara's nervousness over the young man before them. The men began withdrawing, turning sideways to eye the intruder on the floor as they filed out the door. The knuckles of the officer's fist around his sword hilt were white. As he backed out last, he gently closed the door with his other hand.

The young man looked up from under his arm to the two women standing three strides away. "Are you going to have me killed?"

Kahlan didn't answer the question directly. "We have come to talk with you. I am Kahlan Amnell, the Mother Confessor—"

"Mother Confessor!" He straightened on his knees. A boyish grin swept onto his face. "Why, you're beautiful! I never expected you to be so beautiful."

He put a hand to a knee and began to rise. Cara's Agiel was instantly at the ready.

"Stay where you are."

He froze, staring at the red Agiel before his face, and then lowered the knee back onto the fringe of the crimson carpet. Lamps on the fluted mahogany pilasters supporting shallow pediments over bookcases to each side of the room cast flickering light across his bony face. He was hardly more than a boy.

"Can I have my weapons back, please? I need my sword. If I can't have that, then I'd like my knife, at least."

Cara heaved an irritated sigh, but Kahlan spoke first. "You are in a very precarious position, young man. None of us is in the mood to be indulgent if this is some kind of prank."

He nodded earnestly. "I understand. I'm not playing a game. I swear."

"Then tell me what you said to the soldiers."

His grin returned as he lifted a hand, gesturing casually toward the door. "Well, like I was telling those men when I was—"

Fists at her side, Kahlan advanced a stride. "I told you, this is no game! You're only alive by my grace! I want to know what you're doing here, and I want to know right now! Tell me what you said!"

The young man blinked. "I'm an assassin, sent by Emperor Jagang. I'm here to kill Richard Rahl. Can you direct me to him, please?"

Copyright © 1997 by Terry Goodkind

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Table of Contents

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First Chapter

CHAPTER ONE

Let me kill him," Cara said, her boot strikes sounding like rawhide mallets hammering the polished marble floor.

The supple leather boots Kahlan wore beneath her elegant, white Confessor's dress whispered against the cold stone as she tried to keep pace without letting her legs break into a run.

"No."

Cara exhibited no response, keeping her blue eyes ahead to the wide corridor stretching into the distance. A dozen leather- and chain-mail-clad D'Haran soldiers, their unadorned swords sheathed, or crescent-bladed battle-axes hooked on belt hangers, crossed at an intersection just ahead. Though their weapons weren't drawn, every wooden hilt was gripped in a ready fist as vigilant eyes scrutinized the shadows among the doorways and columns to each side. Their hasty bows toward Kahlan only briefly interrupted their attention to their task.

"We can't just kill him," Kahlan explained. "We need answers."

An eyebrow lifted over one icy blue eye. "Oh, I didn't say he wouldn't give us answers before he dies. He will answer any question you have when I'm finished with him." A mirthless smile ghosted across her flawless face. "That is the job of a Mord-Sith: getting people to answer questions"--she paused as the smile returned to widen with professional satisfaction--"before they die."

Kahlan heaved a sigh. "Cara, that's no longer your job--your life. Your job now is to protect Richard."

"That is why you should let me kill him. We should not take a risk by letting this man live."

"No. We first have to find out what's going on, and we're not going to start out doing it the way you want."

Cara's smile, humorless as it was, had vanished again. "As you wish, Mother Confessor."

Kahlan wondered how the woman had managed to change into her skintight red leather outfit so fast. Whenever there was so much as a whiff of trouble, at least one of the three Mord-Sith seemed to materialize out of nowhere in her red leather. Red, as they often pointed out, didn't show blood.

"Are you sure he said that, this man? Those were his words?"

"Yes, Mother Confessor, his exact words. You should let me kill him before he has a chance to try to bring them to pass."

Kahlan ignored the repeated request as they hurried on down the hall. "Where's Richard?"

"You wish me to get Lord Rahl?"

"No! I just want to know where he is, in case there's trouble."

"I would say that this qualifies as trouble."

"You said that there must be two hundred soldiers holding weapons on him. How much trouble can one man cause with all those swords, axes, and arrows pointed at him?"

"My former master, Darken Rahl, knew that steel alone could not always ward danger. That is why he had Mord-Sith nearby and at the ready."

"That evil man would kill people without even bothering to determine if they were really a danger to him. Richard isn't like that, and neither am I. You know that if there is a true threat, I'm not shy about eliminating it; but if this man is more than he seems, then why is he so timidly cowering before all that steel? Besides, as a Confessor I am hardly defenseless against threats that steel won't stop.

"We have to keep our heads. Let's not start leaping to judgments that may be unwarranted."

"If you don't think he could be trouble, then why am I nearly running to just keep up with you?"

Kahlan realized that she was a half a step ahead of the woman. She slowed her pace to a brisk walk. "Because it's Richard we're talking about," she said in a near whisper. Cara smirked. "You're as worried as I."

"Of course I am. But for all we know, killing this man, if he is more than he seems, could be springing a snare."

"You could be right, but that is the purpose for Mord-Sith."

"So, where is Richard?"

Cara gripped the red leather at her wrist and stretched her armor-backed glove tighter onto her hand as she flexed her fist. Her Agiel, an awesome weapon that appeared to be nothing more than a finger-width foot-long red leather rod, dangled from a fine gold chain at her right wrist, ever at the ready. One just like it, but no weapon in Kahlan's hands, hung on a chain around Kahlan's neck. It had been a gift from Richard, a gift that symbolized the pain and sacrifice they had both endured.

"He is out behind the palace, in one of the private parks." Cara gestured over her shoulder. "The one that way. Raina and Berdine are with him."

Kahlan was relieved to hear that the other two Mord-Sith were watching over him. "Something to do with his surprise for me?"

"What surprise?"

Kahlan smiled. "Surely he's told you, Cara."

Cara snatched a glimpse out of the corner of her eye. "Of course he has told me."

"Then what is it?"

"He also told me not to tell you."

Kahlan shrugged. "I won't tell him that you told me."

Cara's laugh, like her smile before, bore no humor. "Lord Rahl has a peculiar way of finding out things, especially those things you wish him not to know."

Kahlan knew the truth of that. "So what's he doing out there?"

The muscles in Cara's jaw flexed. "Outdoor things. You know Lord Rahl; he likes to do outdoor things."

Kahlan glanced over to see that Cara's face had turned nearly as red as her leather outfit. "What sort of outdoor things?"

Cara cleared her throat into her armored fist. "He is taming chipmunks."

"He's what? I can't hear you."

Cara waved an impatient hand. "He said that the chipmunks have come out to test the warming weather. He is taming them." Her cheeks rounded as she huffed. "With seeds."

Kahlan smiled at the thought of Richard, the man she loved, the man who had seized command of D'Hara, and had much of the Midlands now eating out of his hand, having a fine afternoon teaching chipmunks to eat seeds out of his hand.

"Well, that sounds innocent enough--feeding seeds to chipmunks."

Cara flexed her armored fist again as they swept between two D'Haran guards. "He is teaching them to eat those seeds," she said through clenched teeth, "out of Raina and Berdine's hands. The two of them were giggling!" She aimed a mortified expression toward the ceiling as she threw her hands up. Her Agiel swung on the gold chain at her wrist. "Mord-Sith--giggling!"

Kahlan pressed her lips tight, trying to keep from breaking into laughter. Cara pulled her long blond braid forward, over her shoulder, stroking it in a way that provoked in Kahlan an unsettling memory of the way Shota, the witch woman, stroked her snakes.

"Well," Kahlan said, trying to cool the other woman's indignation, "maybe it's not by their choice. They are bonded to him. Perhaps Richard ordered it, and they're simply obeying him."

Cara shot her an incredulous look. Kahlan knew that any of the three Mord-Sith would defend Richard to the death--they had shown themselves prepared to sacrifice their lives without hesitation--but though they were bonded to him through magic, they disregarded his orders wantonly if they judged them trivial, unimportant, or unwise. Kahlan imagined that it was because Richard had given them their freedom from the rigid principles of their profession, and they enjoyed exercising that freedom. Darken Rahl, their former master, Richard's father, would have killed them in a heartbeat had he even suspected that they were considering disobeying his orders, no matter how trivial they were.

"The sooner you wed Lord Rahl the better. Then, instead of teaching chipmunks to eat out of Mord-Sith hands, he will be eating out of yours."

Kahlan exhaled in a soft, lilting laugh, thinking about being his wife. It wouldn't be long, now. "Richard will have my hand, but you should know as well as anyone that he will not be eating out of it--and I wouldn't want him to."

"If you regain your senses, come see me, and I will teach you how." Cara turned her attention to the alert D'Haran soldiers. Men at arms were rushing everywhere, checking every hall and looking behind every door, no doubt at Cara's insistence.

"Egan is with Lord Rahl, too. He should be safe while we see to this man."

Kahlan's mirth withered. "How did he get in here, anyway? Did he come in with the petitioners?"

"No." A professional chill settled back into Cara's tone. "But I intend to find out. From what I gather, he just walked up to a patrol of guards not far from the council chambers and asked where he could find Lord Rahl, as if just anyone can walk in and ask to see the Master of D'Hara, as if he was a head butcher that anyone can go to if they want a choice cut of mutton."

"That's when the guards asked him why he wanted to see Richard?"

Cara nodded. "I think we should kill him."

Realization wormed up Kahlan's spine in a cold tingle. Cara wasn't simply an aggressive bodyguard, unconcerned about spilling the blood of others--she was afraid. She was afraid for Richard.

"I want to know how he got in here. He presented himself to a patrol inside the palace; he shouldn't have been able to get inside, wandering around unfettered. What if we have a hitherto-unknown breach in security? Wouldn't it be better to find out before another comes without the courtesy of announcing himself?"

"We can find out if you let me do it my way."

"We don't know enough yet; he could end up dead before we find out anything, then the danger to Richard could become greater."

"All right," Cara said with a sigh, "we will do it your way, as long as you understand that I have orders to follow."

"What orders?"

"Lord Rahl told us to protect you as we would protect him." With a toss of her head, Cara flicked her blond braid back over her shoulder. "If you are not careful, Mother Confessor, and needlessly endanger Lord Rahl with your restraint, I will withdraw my permission for Richard to keep you."

Kahlan laughed. Her laughter died out when Cara didn't so much as smile. She was never entirely sure when the Mord-Sith were joking and when they were being deadly serious.

"In here," Kahlan said. "It's shorter this way, and besides, I want to see what petitioners are waiting, in view of our strange visitor. He could even be a diversion to draw our attention away from someone else--the true threat."

Cara's brow twitched as if she had been slighted. "Why do you think I had Petitioners' Hall sealed and ringed with guards?"

"You did it surreptitiously, I hope. There's no need to frighten the wits out of innocent petitioners."

"I told the officers not to frighten the people in there if they didn't have to, but our first responsibility is to protect Lord Rahl."

Kahlan nodded. She couldn't argue with that.

Two heavily muscled guards bowed, along with twenty others nearby, before pulling open the tall, brassbound doors leading to an arcaded passageway. A stone rail supported by fat, vase-shaped balusters ran along the white marble pillars. The barrier, separating the petitioners in the hundred-foot-long room from the officials' passageway, was symbolic rather than real. Skylights thirty feet overhead lit the waiting room, but left the length of the passageway to the muted golden light of lamps hung in the peak of each small vault in its ceiling.

It was a long-standing custom for people--petitioners--to come to the Confessors' Palace to seek any number of things, from settlement of disagreements over the rights of peddlers to coveted street corners, to officials of different lands seeking armed intervention in border disputes. Matters that could be handled by city officials were directed to the proper offices. Matters brought by dignitaries of the lands, if those matters were deemed to be important enough, or could be handled in no other way, were taken before the council. Petitioners' Hall was where officers of protocol determined the disposition of requests.

When Darken Rahl, Richard's father, had attacked the Midlands, many of the officials in Aydindril had been killed, among them Saul Witherrin, the Chief of Protocol, along with most of his office. Richard had defeated Darken Rahl, and being the gifted heir, had ascended to Master of D'Hara. He had ended the bickering and battling among the lands of the Midlands by demanding their surrender in order to forge them all into a force capable of withstanding the common threat from the Old World, from the Imperial Order.

Kahlan found it unsettling to be the Mother Confessor who had reigned over the end of the Midlands as a formal entity, a union of sovereign lands, but she knew that her first responsibility was to the lives of the people, not to tradition; if not stopped, the Imperial Order would cast the world into slavery, and the people of the Midlands would be its chattel. Richard had accomplished what his father could not, but did so for entirely different reasons. She loved Richard and knew his benevolent intent in seizing power.

Soon they would be wedded, and their marriage would unite the Midlands and D'Hara in peace and unity for all time. More than that, though, it would be a personal fulfillment of their love and deepest desire: to be one.

Kahlan missed Saul Witherrin; he had been a capable aide. With the council now dead, too, and the Midlands now a part of D'Hara, matters of protocol were in disarray. A few frustrated D'Haran officers were standing at the railing, attempting to minister to the petitioners' needs.

As she entered, Kahlan's gaze swept the waiting crowd, analyzing the nature of problems brought to the palace this day. By their dress, most appeared to be people from the surrounding city of Aydindril: labors, shopkeepers, and merchants.

She saw a knot of children she knew from the day before when Richard had taken her to watch them playing a game of Ja'La. It was the first time she had seen the fast-paced game, and it had been an entertaining diversion for a couple of hours: to watch children play and laugh. The children probably wanted Richard to come watch another game; he had been an ardent supporter of each team. Even if he had picked one team to cheer over the other, Kahlan doubted it would have made any difference; children were drawn to Richard, seeming to instinctively sense his kind heart.

Kahlan recognized several diplomats from a few of the smaller lands, who she hoped had come to accept Richard's offer of a peaceful surrender and union into D'Haran rule. She knew the leaders of those lands, and was expecting them to heed her urging to join with them in the cause of freedom.

She recognized, too, a group of diplomats from some of the larger lands that had standing armies. They had been expected, and later that day Richard and Kahlan were to meet with them, along with any other newly arrived representatives, to hear their decision.

She wished Richard would find himself something more suitable to wear. His woods clothes had served him well, but he now needed to present a more fitting image of the position he found himself in. He was so much more than a woods guide now.

Having served nearly her whole life as a person of authority, Kahlan knew that it often smoothed matters of leadership if you matched people's expectations. Kahlan doubted people who needed a woods guide would have followed Richard if he hadn't dressed for the woods. In a way, Richard was their guide in this treacherous new world of untested allegiances and new enemies. He often asked her advice; she was going to have to talk to him about his clothes.

When the people assembled saw the Mother Confessor striding into the passageway, conversation stilled and they began going to a knee in deep bows. Despite the fact that she was of an unprecedentedly young age for the post, there was no one of higher authority in the Midlands than the Mother Confessor. The Mother Confessor was the Mother Confessor, no matter the face of the woman who held the office. People bowed not so much to the woman as to that ancient authority.

Matters of Confessors were an enigma to most people of the Midlands; Confessors chose the Mother Confessor. To Confessors, age was of secondary consideration.

Though she was chosen to preserve the freedoms and rights of the people of the Midlands, people rarely saw it in those terms. To most, a ruler was a ruler. Some were good, some were bad. As the ruler of rulers, the Mother Confessor encouraged the good, and suppressed the bad. If a ruler proved bad enough, it was within her power to eliminate them. That was the ultimate purpose of a Mother Confessor. To most people, though, such far removed matters of governance simply seemed the squabbling of rulers.

In the sudden silence that filled Petitioners' Hall, Kahlan paused to acknowledge the gathered visitors.

A young woman standing against the far wall watched as all those around her fell to one knee. She glanced in Kahlan's direction, back to those kneeling, and then followed suit.

Kahlan's brow tightened.

In the Midlands, the length of a woman's hair denoted her power and standing Matters of power, no matter how trivial they might seem on the surface, were taken seriously in the Midlands. Not even a queen's hair was allowed to be as long as a Confessor's, and no Confessor's hair was as long as that of the Mother Confessor.

This woman had a thick mass of brown hair close to the length of Kahlan's.

Kahlan knew nearly every person of high rank in the Midlands; it was her duty, and she took it seriously. A woman with hair that long was obviously a person of high standing, but Kahlan didn't recognize her. There was likely to be no man or woman in the entire city, other than Kahlan, who would outrank the woman-if she was in fact from the Midlands.

"Rise, my children," Kahlan said in formal response to the tops of the waiting, bowed heads.

Dresses and coats rustled as everyone began coming to their feet, most keeping their eyes to the floor, out of respect, or needless fear. The woman rose to her feet, twisting a simply made kerchief in her fingers, watching those around her. She turned her brown eyes to the floor, as most of the others were.

"Cara," Kahlan whispered, "could that woman there, with the long hair, be from D'Hara?"

Cara had been watching her, too; she had learned some of the customs of the Midlands. Though Cara's long blond hair was about the length of Kahlan's, she was D'Haran. They didn't live by the same customs.

"Her nose is too 'cute' to be D'Haran."

"I'm serious. Do you think she could be D'Haran?"

Cara studied the woman a moment longer. "I doubt it. D'Haran women don't wear flower-print dresses, nor are the dresses they do wear of that cut. But clothes can be changed to fit the occasion, or to fit in with local people."

The dress didn't really fit the local dress of Aydindril, but it might not be so out of place in other, more remote, areas of the Midlands. Kahlan nodded and turned to a waiting captain, motioning him over.

He leaned his head close as she spoke in a low tone. "There is a woman with long brown hair standing against the wall in the back, over my left shoulder. Do you see who I'm talking about?"

"The pretty one, in the blue kirtle?"

"Yes. Do you know why she's here?"

"She said she wished to speak with Lord Rahl."

Kahlan's brow drew tighter. She noticed that Cara's did, too. "What about?"

"She said that she's looking for a man--Cy something--I didn't recognize his name. She said he's been missing since last autumn, and she was told that Lord Rahl would be able to help her."

"Is that right," Kahlan said. "And did she say what business she has with this missing man?"

The captain glanced to the woman and then brushed his sandy hair back from his forehead. "She said that she's to marry him."

Kahlan nodded. "It could be that she's a dignitary, but if she is, I'm embarrassed to admit that I don't know her name."

The captain glanced at a tattered list with scribbles all over it. He turned the paper and scanned the other side until he found what he was looking for. "She said her name was Nadine. She gave no title."

"Well, please see to it that Lady Nadine is taken to a private waiting room where she will be comfortable. Tell her that I will come speak with her and see if I can help. Have dinner brought to her, along with anything else she might require. Give her my apology and tell her that I have something of vital importance that I must attend to first, but I will come see her as soon as I am able, and that I wish to do what I can to help her."

Kahlan could understand the woman's distress if she really was separated from her love and was searching for him. Kahlan had been in that situation herself and knew well the anguish.

"I'll see to it at once, Mother Confessor."

"One other thing, captain." Kahlan watched the woman twisting her kerchief. "Tell Lady Nadine that there is trouble about, what with the war with the Old World, and that for her own safety we must insist that she remain in the room until I can come to speak with her. Post a heavy guard outside the room. Place archers at a safe distance down the hall to either side of the door.

"If she comes out, insist that she must return to the room at once and wait. If you must, tell her that it is by my command. If she still tries to leave"--Kahlan looked into the captain's waiting blue eyes--"kill her."

The captain bowed as Kahlan swept on through the passageway, Cara right at her heels.

"Well, well," Cara said, once outside Petitioners' Hall, "at last the Mother Confessor comes to her senses. I knew I had a good reason for allowing Lord Rahl to keep you. You will make him a worthy wife."

Kahlan turned down the corridor toward the room where guards held the man. "I haven't changed my mind about anything, Cara. Considering our strange visitor, I'm giving Lady Nadine every chance to live, every chance I can afford to give, but you're mistaken if you think I'll balk at doing whatever it takes to protect Richard. Besides being the man I love more than life itself, Richard is a man of vital importance to the freedom of the people of both D'Hara and the Midlands. There's no telling what the Imperial Order would try in order to get to him."

Cara smiled, sincerely, this time. "I know he loves you the same. That's why I don't like you going to see this man; Lord Rahl may separate me from my hide if he thinks I allowed you near danger."

"Richard is one born with the gift; I, too, have been born with magic. Darken Rahl sent quads to kill the Confessors because there is little danger to a Confessor from one man."

Kahlan felt the familiar, yet distant anguish of their deaths. Distant, because it seemed so long ago, though it had been hardly a year. For months, in the beginning, she had felt as if she should be dead along with her sister Confessors, and that she had somehow betrayed them by escaping all the traps laid for her. Now, she was the last.

With a flick of her wrist, Cara snapped her Agiel into her fist. "Even a man, like Lord Rahl, born with the gift? Even a wizard?"

"Even a wizard, and even if, unlike Richard, he knows how to use his power. I not only know how to use mine, I am very experienced at it. I long ago lost count of the number . . ."

As Kahlan's words trailed off, Cara considered her Agiel, rolling it in her fingers. "I guess there is even less than 'little' danger--with me there."

When they reached the richly carpeted and paneled corridor they were seeking, it was thick with soldiers and bristling with steel from swords, axes, and pikes. The man was being held in a small, elegant reading room close to the rather simple one Richard liked to use for meeting with officers and for studying the journal he had found in the Wizard's Keep. The soldiers hadn't wanted to risk an escape attempt and had simply stuffed the man in the room nearest to the spot they found him, pinning him down until it could be decided what was to be done.

Kahlan gently took the elbow of a soldier to urge him back out of the way. The muscles of his bare arm felt as hard as iron. His pike, pointed toward the closed door, could hardly have been more steady had it been embedded in granite. There had to be fifty pikes likewise aimed at the silent door. More men, gripping swords or axes, hunkered beneath the pike points.

The guard turned as Kahlan tugged on his arm. "Let me through, soldier."

The man gave way. Others glanced back and began moving aside. Cara shouldered her way ahead of Kahlan, pushing men out of the way. They did so reluctantly, not out of disrespect, but out of concern for the danger that waited beyond the door. Even as they moved aside, they kept their weapons pointed toward the thick oak door.

Inside, the windowless, dimly lit room smelled of leather and sweat. A lanky man squatted on the edge of an embroidered footstool. He seemed too spare, should he make the wrong move, to permit all the steel aimed at him to find a virgin patch to penetrate. His young eyes dithered among the steel and grim glares until he caught sight of Kahlan's approaching white dress. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he looked up expectantly.

When the burly soldiers in leather and chain mail behind him saw Kahlan and Cara forcing their way into the room, one of them landed the side of his boot on the small of the young man's back, pitching him forward.

"Kneel, you filthy cur."

The young man, dressed in an outsized soldier's uniform that looked to have been scrounged together from dissimilar sources, peered up at Kahlan, then over his shoulder at the man who had kicked him. He ducked his head of disheveled dark hair and shielded it with a gangly arm, expecting a blow.

"That's enough," Kahlan said in a quietly authoritative tone. "Cara and I wish to speak with him. All of you, wait outside, please."

The soldiers balked, reluctant to lift a weapon from the young man cowering on the floor.

"You heard her," Cara said. "Out."

"But--" an officer began.

"You doubt that a Mord-Sith is capable of handling this one scrawny man? Now, go wait outside."

Kahlan was surprised that Cara hadn't raised her voice. Mord-Sith didn't have to raise their voices to get people to follow their orders, but still it surprised her, considering Cara's nervousness over the young man before them. The men began withdrawing, turning sideways to eye the intruder on the floor as they filed out the door. The knuckles of the officer's fist around his sword hilt were white. As he backed out last, he gently closed the door with his other hand.

The young man looked up from under his arm to the two women standing three strides away. "Are you going to have me killed?"

Kahlan didn't answer the question directly. "We have come to talk with you. I am Kahlan Amnell, the Mother Confessor--"

"Mother Confessor!" He straightened on his knees. A boyish grin swept onto his face. "Why, you're beautiful! I never expected you to be so beautiful."

He put a hand to a knee and began to rise Cara's Agiel was instantly at the ready.

"Stay where you are."

He froze, staring at the red Agiel before his face, and then lowered the knee back onto the fringe of the crimson carpet. Lamps on the fluted mahogany pilasters supporting shallow pediments over bookcases to each side of the room cast flickering light across his bony face. He was hardly more than a boy.

"Can I have my weapons back, please? I need my sword. If I can't have that, then I'd like my knife, at least."

Cara heaved an irritated sigh, but Kahlan spoke first. "You are in a very precarious position, young man. None of us is in the mood to be indulgent if this is some kind of prank."

He nodded earnestly. "I understand. I'm not playing a game. I swear."

"Then tell me what you said to the soldiers."

His grin returned as he lifted a hand, gesturing casually toward the door. "Well like I was telling those men when I was--"

Fists at her side, Kahlan advanced a stride. "I told you, this is no game! You're only alive by my grace! I want to know what you're doing here, and I want to know right now! Tell me what you said!"

The young man blinked. "I'm an assassin, sent by Emperor Jagang. I'm here to kill Richard Rahl. Can you direct me to him, please?"

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Interviews & Essays

On Friday, October 24th, barnesandnoble.com welcomed Terry Goodkind to discuss TEMPLE OF THE WINDS.


Moderator: Hello, Terry Goodkind! We are pleased that you could join us this evening to discuss the newest installment of your Sword of Truth series, TEMPLE OF THE WINDS. Welcome.

Terry Goodkind: Hello, and welcome, everybody.


Alison from New York City: Could you give us a taste of TEMPLE OF THE WINDS? What can we expect?

Terry Goodkind: TEMPLE OF THE WINDS is the story of a plague and what Richard and Kahlan must do to stop it. And if they're willing to actually go to the TEMPLE OF THE WINDS when they find out the cost.


Reggie from Allentown, PA: How long did it take from when you first thought up the idea of Richard and Kahlan to when it was actually published? Where do the ideas in your books come from? How do you start a new book?

Terry Goodkind: I was building my house at the time Kahlan first came to me, and I let the story grow in my mind for a year when I finished the house. Then I started writing, and it took 13 months to write WIZARD'S FIRST RULE. Ten weeks after I wrote the end, I had an agent and the book was sold and auctioned for the highest price ever paid for a first fantasy novel. "Where do ideas come from" is the most frequently asked question and the most difficult to answer. Ideas are at once the most important and the least important part of a book. And by that I mean that they have to be sound ideas that make up a good story and that are interesting to readers; but at the same time, most ideas are things we've lived with our whole lives and in that respect are least important. What's important is to tell these stories and these ideas in a new and interesting way. Ideas come to me in anything from an idea that pops in my head to long hours of pondering and working on how to solve a particular problem. Mostly my characters, as they tell me about themselves -- the ideas just flow naturally with their story. To start a new book, I basically write the story in my head before I ever start writing it down. Before I can start actually writing it down, I have to understand the major characters' part in the book, the major conflict, and the resolution to the conflict. Then as I'm writing, a lot of the details get fleshed out, but I have to know the structure of the story before I start.


Horace from Butler, NJ: Any plans to make TEMPLE OF THE WINDS into a movie?

Terry Goodkind: Authors don't decide to make their books into a movie. Hollywood decides what they want to buy. Beyond that, I have no burning desire to have any of my books made into a movie. Once Hollywood gets a script, it becomes a battle of egos and movie stars, and the story gets left by the wayside while people argue over what they want to say; and it gets rewritten to the point that it's nothing like the author originally wrote. I'm a writer, and my main interest is in writing books, and that's what I want to keep doing.


Kai from Madison, NJ: Can you read TEMPLE OF THE WINDS without having read the other books in the series?

Terry Goodkind: Absolutely, yes. I specifically wrote it with a conscious attempt that someone who hasn't read the rest of series wouldn't feel lost and confused. I try to do that with all of my books, but I've done it even more so with this one. My desire is for each book to more or less stand alone while fitting into the larger picture. I don't like cliff-hanger endings myself, and I don't want to do that to my readers. I want each book to have a satisfying conclusion.


Ken from Ft. Walton Beach, FL: How many books are going to be in the series, and are you going to maintain the pace of one per year?

Terry Goodkind: I suggest that you all go to your nearest Barnes & Noble store and pick up a copy of Explorations, the Barnes & Noble publication, where I answer that question in detail. It's a long answer.


Brian from New Jersey: Hello, Terry. A user on the web page wanted to know if, since you were an artist, would you would ever think of doing a book of artwork about the characters?

Terry Goodkind: No, because while I enjoy doing artwork, once I started writing I discovered that writing is my true passion, and now I paint with words. Although I don't know if everyone is aware of it, I did do the maps in the books, and I painted the color endpapers in TEMPLE OF THE WINDS.


Zachary from Madison, WI: Are there any modern fantasy writers you particularly like?

Terry Goodkind: I like reading just about anything. From technical nonfiction pieces to all sorts of fiction.


Christopher Isbell from Middle Tennessee: Hello. I have been an avid reader for most of my young life (23 years old). I love the Lord of the Rings. Until I stumbled across the Sword of Truth series, Tolkien's story was the best in literature. Now I am astonished to report that your series is, at least to me, equal with Tolkien's masterpiece. Your characters are warm, alive, and totally easy to fall in love with. I want to thank you for writing these characters' thoughts! TEMPLE OF THE WINDS...whoa...it really messed with my mind. However, I miss Chase, Rachel, and Gratch. Will they return in number five? Thank you!

Terry Goodkind: I'm honored to be put in such company. I can't say for sure when which characters will reappear, because one of the things about writing, for me anyway, is that telling what's coming up takes some of the fire out of writing it, so I'd rather save my creative energy for the writing.


Andy from Kalamazoo, MI: How much was J.R.R. Tolkien an influence on your stories? Was he your primary influence? Do you read other fantasy writers such as Robert Jordan, Terry Brooks, or David Eddings? What else do you enjoy reading?

Terry Goodkind: He was zero influence. I've never read any Tolkien.


Ray from Eugene, OR: Do you ever see yourself writing a different kind of book?

Terry Goodkind: In response to the previous Tolkien question, I'm hoping to read him, when I can find the time. In a way, I'm reluctant to read it, because I understand the towering dimensions of his talent, and I don't want to be borrowing any of his work -- I want to remain true to my characters. In response to writing a different kind of book: When I write, I put all of my energy into the book I'm writing, and it's an intense emotional experience and demands a lot of concentration. I feel I'd be cheating readers if I devoted attention to things in the future, so I put all the energy into the book I'm writing and don't think about future books. Right now I'm completely happy writing this series and for the time being wanted to continue to do so.


Head War Wizard Ariel from Israel: Mr. Goodkind, on behalf of the entire Palace of the Prophets mailing list, I would like to say...hi. And add that your series is the most incredible thing I've read since I picked up THE BELGARIAD (Eddings)...and let you know that you scored first place (62 votes) on my Favorite Authors Survey (of course, the only people that actually enter my page are sworn STONE OF TEARS fanatics, but still.... Now if I only had TEMPLE OF THE WINDS(*hint !!!*)....

Terry Goodkind: That's incredibly kind and truly appreciated.


Rory from Florida: Terry, two questions: Which character relates most to you in the book? What was your favorite scene to write in the book?

Terry Goodkind: All the characters have a little bit of me in them, because you have to use your own experience to write honestly. I'd say that Richard is the character that I would most like to live up to, not that I'm most like him. I would say my favorite scene in TEMPLE OF THE WINDS was actually a very short one, and it's where Cara is telling Kahlan how she was captured by the Mord-sith.


Jim from New York: I read you have dyslexia. How has that had an impact on your writing? Does it make it much harder to write your novels?

Terry Goodkind: I think that in the long run, it has benefited my writing. The reason is that when I was younger, teachers thought I wasn't trying because I couldn't read very fast. I never thought I was good enough to write, although I liked the stories in my head -- so I solved the problem by writing stories in my own mind and never writing them down. And this helps me now because I'm able to plot out the book in my head and keep all the details in my head. It makes it hard because I'm a slow reader. That means I can't read as much as I would like to.


LaRae from Virginia: If you had one magical wish, what would it be? Would you like magic to be possible in our world?

Terry Goodkind: I'd wish for more wishes. Magic is possible in our world. To me, books are magic. That I could think of a story in my head and write it down, and it could appear all over the world and all of these people can read the story, and feel the same emotions that I felt when I wrote this, to me is a very magical experience as well as a very moving experience for me.


Darniil Entroth from Amber: With your writing style, you don't just pull things out of the air; you have a reason for writing the words you write. What's your reason for "bags"?

Terry Goodkind: I think using standard curse words is very unimaginative and shows a laziness on the writer's part. I wanted to think up something that was more entertaining for the readers and revealed more about the character.


Eric from Lansing, Kansas: What advice would you give to someone who is hoping to get published?

Terry Goodkind: Don't write to get published. Write what you have the passion to write and what brings you satisfaction, and if it's truly good, it will get published.


Daniel W. from Cleveland, Ohio: Do you make a conscious effort to make your books seem darker than most other fantasy writers (an example being the torture scenes in WIZARD'S FIRST RULE), or do you just try to write as true to the story as possible and the darkness flows from that?

Terry Goodkind: The second part is the exact definition. I write to be true to the characters and also to be true to the way things really are. For example, I know a lot about how war is fought, and I don't clean it up to make it look grand and glorious. War is a dirty, messy business, and I try to tell it as true as possible.


Christopher Isbell from Middle Tennessee: Where do you write? Do you listen to any kind of music? If so, what kind, and does the mood of the music inspire the mood of the particular chapter or setting? I live in a small house near the woods. I find that writing in the woods seems to unlock my own creativity and love for all living things -- although my PC at home is certainly more practical! Thank you.

Terry Goodkind: I have a very nice office, and I write at my computer, which is a Macintosh. I walk in the woods and write the stories in my head and then come back to the office and write them down on the computer. Obviously the sitting at the computer part is the most important. Yes, I do listen to music. Everything from AC/DC and Ozzy Osbourne to Enya. I play the kind of music that fits what I'm writing. If I'm writing something violent then I'm obviously listening to AC/DC.


Mike from Los Angeles: Hey, Terry, caught you on your tour for BLOOD OF THE FOLD. I realize touring must be a severe strain, but do you have any plans on heading back west to promote TEMPLE OF THE WINDS? Or would you rather just be left alone to write?

Terry Goodkind: Touring is really fun, because you get to meet a lot of enthusiastic fans, and that part of it is terrific. I'm not going to tour this year because I really need to be writing, and you can't write and tour at the same time. I'm sure everyone would much rather have the next book than have me do a tour. But at some point in the future I'm sure I'll tour again.


Holden C. from Fort Collins, Colorado: I'm struck by your literary idea of additive and subtractive magic and how this factors into current ideas about "chaos theory," with its unpredictable outcomes. Is this where you came up with the meaning of the wizard's second rule?

Terry Goodkind: The answer is no, it didn't come from the chaos theory, it came from my observations of people and how the world works.


Drew from Spokane, WA: Which book in the series did you enjoy writing the most?

Terry Goodkind: I don't think that I could answer that question, because I never think about it in those terms. I just absolutely love writing the story about these characters, and it's all terrific fun to me. Of course, there are parts that are very difficult to write.


Lucy from Trenton, NJ: Do you have a fascination with magic outside of your books? Magic shows or spells and witchcraft and the like?

Terry Goodkind: No, and I think that you may be missing a little bit of the point. The point of my writing is how these characters relate to us in terms of their desires, ambitions, and what really matters in their lives, what their fears are, what their hopes are. Magic is one of the elements that they have to deal with, much in the way we have to deal with technology. For example, if you have to be somewhere and your car won't start, it's much the same way emotionally as if they have to be somewhere and the magic won't work. The consequences of not being at the place they need to be is the shared human emotion that I'm dealing with, not the technicalities of why your fuel-injection system isn't working this morning. Magic is a new way of looking at emotions that are common to all of us.


Lauren from Boone, NC: When you first think about writing a book, do you begin with a story and create the characters from there, or do the characters shape the story? Or a little of both?

Terry Goodkind: For the most part, characters bring the story with them. I'm always wondering what makes them tick, what their greatest hopes and their deepest fears are.


Parker from Oakland: Hello. I read that you built your own house. What liberties did you take when you were building it? Could you describe it to us?

Terry Goodkind: I'm not sure what you mean by liberties, but I can tell you that it's a superinsulated house -- the walls are a foot thick. It's huge, and I heat it with a cord and a half of wood a year. It's oriented to the south, and the sun heats it up passively. I was also a cabinetmaker and a violin maker, so you can imagine that the finished detail work is quite elaborate.


David Parrington from Rhode Island: Terry, can you truly enjoy your own story like we, the readers, can? I always think the writer misses the enjoyment of reading it from start to finish without any hints as to what will happen next.

Terry Goodkind: I don't know if it's true or not, because I don't know specifically what's in a reader's head. But I feel as if I enjoy it more than the reader possibly could because I live in the story the entire time I'm writing it, so I live there for months and years, while a reader reads it and is finished with it in a matter of days or weeks. It stretches out the length of time that I'm experiencing these emotions, and it intensifies the feeling. It boils down to saying that I thoroughly enjoy writing the stories.


Ty from King of Prussia, PA: Hi, Terry. Your books are so infectious. Are you surprised by the success you've achieved in such a short time? Has success changed the way you write? Has the pressure of success influenced your style?

Terry Goodkind: The success hasn't changed anything except that it makes me more relaxed because I know that I can continue to do this for a living. Am I surprised? That's a difficult question to answer, because part of me is surprised and part of me is not in the least bit surprised, and by that I mean that I always envision the success of what I'm doing, and I expect reality to follow that mental vision.


Frankie Wells from Oakland, CA: Hello, Mr. Goodkind. Your writing inspires me to make it through the days. I think your books are awesome -- keep it up and don't ever stop writing.

Terry Goodkind: And in response to the last question, another part of me still says, "Wow!" To Frankie: Thank you, and that kind of sentiment honestly does mean a lot to me.


Mike V. from Columbus, OH: First of all, thanks for sharing your stories with the world. What I have wondered when reading your series is: How much do you take from reality as far as describing a certain setting/race of people/scenarios?

Terry Goodkind: I take the human emotions from reality. The settings I create in my head.


Penelope from Carson City: Hello, Terry Goodkind. I can't wait to read TEMPLE OF THE WINDS. Are you ever on the Web? Do you ever check out the Web sites dedicated to you?

Terry Goodkind: To finish the last question: Being an artist, I have always looked at things with an artist's eye, so I notice the light, the texture of objects, the shape of things, the volume, the shadows, colors, and all of those things, so this helps me to describe in a more accurate way, I feel, what I'm seeing in my head, the way I would paint a picture; and I think this helps bring to life what I'm seeing. No, I don't go online. For one thing, I'm writing from the time I get up to the time I go to bed, seven days a week, and something like the Web would be a distraction from the story.


Ronny from Modesto: OK, this is a bit different kind of question. I was wondering if you are a Star Wars fan? I have noticed many similarities in your work and the Star Wars universe. In fact, one of the reviews I read made a similar statement.

Terry Goodkind: I like dealing with human emotions that are at the base of all cultures and all myth. And because there are common elements to the myths of all cultures, there are always similarities. The act of writing is also using everything you've ever seen, heard, or done. I consciously try not to use anything I've read or seen. But when there are these commonalities in story, things sometimes have a feel that is familiar. I won't go into the vast differences between the two stories you've mentioned. But I'll just say that I really think that they share very little except for some surface details.


Susan from San Francisco: Terry, I love your books so much. Have you ever tried doing short stories, or would you ever? I hate waiting so long between each novel.

Terry Goodkind: As a matter of fact, I am going to have a story in a book called LEGENDS, a book that's coming out a year from now. It's a really big-deal anthology with some of the top writers. Other than that, I really like the room that the novel format gives me.


Moderator: Thank you so much for taking the time to answer all of our questions, Mr. Goodkind. Good luck on all of your future writing endeavors. Any final comments?

Terry Goodkind: I just want to add one thing about how hard it is to wait a year for each book. I know that you mean that in a complimentary way, and it's taken as such, but I also want to say that I feel an obligation to my readers to do the best job I'm capable of doing, and by having the books come out once a year, I'm able to put in my best effort -- I'd rather do that than have short, sloppy books come out four times a year. So I thank you for your patience and understanding and loyalty in waiting for the next book, and I promise to continue to keep doing my best. And thank you all for coming to the chat tonight.


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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4.5
( 236 )
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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 236 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted March 26, 2012

    Geez...Response to a couple of reviews

    Gosh, I don't mind reading negative views, but the reasons some of these people gave for hating the book were just worthless and without point. It's almost as if some of them only wrote a negative review so they could write big, impressive words and show everybody how ridiculously high they can set their standards, pointing out at the end how they ripped apart or threw away the book. Ripping up literature, no matter how worthless or stupid you find it, doesn't make you impressive. In fact, it really makes you look hot-headed and psychotic. Don't get me wrong, I love hearing about others' opinions whether negative or positive--just stop trying to make yourself look high and mighty.

    4 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted March 22, 2011

    This will stay with me for a long time

    Enthralling, absolutely enthralling. His true talent lies in his hawk-eye powers of description. Goodkind's writing is the High-Def of fantasy novels. He can also take the abstract, like the workings of magic, and make them feel as real as hooking up your computer (though a lot more interesting).

    Very few books make me read into the small hours of the morning, but the Sword of Truth novels do it every time. The way he can take several intricate plot point and converge them into such stunning and intense scenes and climaxes never ceases to amaze. His writing is so intense, I usually need to take a break and go read some humor/satire after.

    I was shocked by how dark this book was, with the plotline of the plague. For the first time, the book didn't have that element of separation where most of the horror is caused directly by magic. This is sickness, something we all deal with and that people have died of throughout history. And it's not something that can be fought against head on, like a war (as stated several times in the book). It added a great element of terror and is one of the reasons it will stick in my head for a long time. Also, kudos on the betrayal sequence, very haunting and raw.

    If you want an all-encompassing reading experience, look no further than this series.

    3 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 15, 2010

    The CD really made the story newly exciting.

    I had read this book before and bought the audio to use while I multitasked. I found that it was very enjoyable and it was next to impossible for me to concentrate on something else as I listened to the continuing saga.

    Terry Goodking is a brilliant writer weaving many sub-plots throughout his story. This is the fourth in the Sword of Truth Series and is by far one of my favorites. The characters take on additional personality traits and Goodkind makes them more demensional.

    The story is told in very graphic language. At times it may seem that the sexual content and violence is gratudidous but as the story continues you can see that this specific content is very important to the unfolding of the tale.

    I would reccemend this series to anyone who likes the fantasy genre along with a really poingnant hero story. Goodkind is a master at weaving the mundane of the everyday with the epic search for truth.

    3 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted March 2, 2011

    thriller

    the title of the book is Temple of the winds. the Authour to this book is terry Goodkind. this book was published on 08/01/1998.the type of book this is would be fiction. richard and kahlan work hard together to overcome the power of the temple of the winds. and to do this they may have to betray eachother. i think the intended audiance for this book would be adults looking for a book that has alot of action, but it does have some stuff that may be cosiderd a little over pg-13 so just a warnig but it is way good.

    this book had highs and lows so i would put it down and then pick it up and i could not put it down untill what seemed to be one of many climax came to an end. this book was an escape for me from school and everything else somtimes you just have to go into the world of the book i would recomend this book to a mature audiance that is looking for a book they cant put down.

    throught this book grow tremendusly in many ways for example richard starts out in the begining of the series as a farm boy then grows to be a ruler of a huge area and finds he has profound magic and he has to take on these major responsibilities in a short time. many of the other charachters also grow with him.

    in this book i kept guesing what would happen but i never hit it spot on this book keeps you guesing once they get to the climax it just shfits to another scene so you have to get back to the good part this is an awsome book i invite all to read this book.

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 27, 2012

    Temple of the winds

    Excellent story.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 30, 2011

    Good.

    Another adventure. I do wish there was a little less explaining of past history for catch up purposes. The story is good.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted October 14, 2011

    If you're a Harry Potter Fan but wish it was more adult, then this is for you.

    Terry Goodkind's The Sword of Truth Series can arguably be called the Pre-Harry Potter. It has A place where young witches and wizards are trained,a crazy girl named Looney Lunnetta, and they call evil The Keeper while others call him The Nameless One. Sound familiar? It doesn't matter what kind of fan you are. The Sword of Truth Series are among the best books around. A continuing saga of Richard and Kahlan fighting against The Imperial Order's Quest to eliminate all magic. Richard Rahl is the first War Wizard to be born in thousands of years and has his true love The Mother Confessor Kahlan Amnell is the last of her kind. Together with First Wizard Zeddicus Zu'l Zorander they must stop Jagang Emperor of the Imperial Order from taking over The Midlands and the New World. Terry Goodkind is the highest paid first time Author of Fantasy for nothing. Give it a try and you'll find yourself engrossed in the entire series.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted April 28, 2011

    more from this reviewer

    Worse and Worser

    This series is just getting more and more worse the more I read it. This book was a joke, Terry Goodkind is full of himself, has a holier-than-thou attitude, and truly writes to the general public as if we were stupid. The reading comprehension in these books has got to be set at an eighth grade reading level - not that someone that age should be reading this, what with all the graphic violence and rape involved in it. This was by far the worst story in the series so far. I've almost come to the end of my ropes with this author and his general lack of skill. I've come this far so I might as well continue - about halfway through the next book and it is even more garbage. It's sad that the Legend of the Seeker show was so much better than the trash it originated from.

    1 out of 9 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted October 20, 2010

    I Also Recommend:

    Goodkind's "Temple of the Winds" Will Shatter Everything You Know About The Sword of Truth. Simply Magnificent

    In Goodkind's extraordinary follow up to "Blood of The Fold." Richard Rahl and Kahlan Amnel have stopped Jagang "The Dream Walker." from taking possesion of the Palace of The Prophets in the Old World. However; the mayhem and evilness to be unleashed by the Imperial Order have just begun. In the darkest kind of any magic, a prophecy that carries love, forgiveness, and betrayal has marked the Mother Confessor, a sign of a red moon, that forever will change the lives of Richard and Kahlan. In the fourth installment of The Sword of Truth, Goodkind takes readers back into the magical lands of The Old World, Aydindril "The Home of The Confessors", The Rang'Shada Mountains, Agaden Reach, The Jocopo Treasure, and concluding in Mount Kymermosst "The Mountain of the Four Winds" where once upon a time stood The Temple of the Winds. "Temple of the Winds" is the quest of Lord Rahl to find the cure to stop a plague that has killed thousands of people in the midlands, in a magical journey surrounded by healers, witches, prophets, spirits from the underworld, the returning to the Mud people, and a magical hidden sanctuary long gone called Temple of the Winds. Goodkind's "Temple of the Winds" is extraordinary. It will shatter everything you think you know about the Wizard's Rules. Nothing has changed, as in the previous books, Goodkind is great at unfolding and setting the plot. He takes no prisoners, because no compassion is given to the main characters. A plage, A prophecy, and the everlasting love of Richard and Kahlan that will be tested in time. I like that it took a while to decipher what the temple of the winds was all about. Goodkind is a genius creating the world of "The Sword of Truth." And again he goes to the extremes by delivering a gruesome picture described in perfect detail, a graphic theme aimed for mature audiences only, and at the same time writing a fine love story, and the noble lives of those characters that unexpectedly said good bye. Goodkind's "Temple of the Winds" is simply unforgettable, outstanding writing as the author goes inside in the life of Cara, and her beginning as a Mord-siths, Nathan Rahl's character was very touching in his own way, and Raina's departure will leave you, with tears. A triumph to one bittersweet ending, one that was long due for every fan out-there.

    1 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 26, 2013

    A tiny kit

    A tiny kit with golden fur and one blue eye and one green eye stumbled in.

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 26, 2013

    FallimHeart

    Can i join the she cat asks

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 26, 2013

    TempleStar

    He purred,"of course! Welcome to TempleClan!"

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  • Posted August 24, 2013

    more from this reviewer

    The series is AMAZING!!!

    The series is AMAZING!!!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted March 19, 2013

    .

    .

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 23, 2012

    Must Read Book & Series

    These books are well thought out and very strategic in the ways things get accomplished throughout the story. It is very hard to guess what comes next!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted July 9, 2012

    Great Story!

    Wonderful chapter in the Sword of Truth series. I think this is one of my favorites (so far), even with some of the sad parts. Can't decide if I want to go right into Book 5 or take a break.

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  • Posted May 31, 2012

    If you are into the series, it's worth a read

    This one seemed to drag on a bit, but it was still good.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 20, 2012

    Loved it!

    Love this part of the series! Goodkind definitely kept me reading to the point that my friends started reading it too. This book gives a test to love and sacrifice. Will read again. :)

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  • Anonymous

    Posted April 16, 2012

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted August 25, 2010

    I Also Recommend:

    A low point in the series, but do not despair!

    I adore the Sword of Truth series, but I nearly gave up while reading Temple of the Winds. While it is a well-written piece of literature, I had grown so attached to Richard and Kahlan that I could not bear how things just kept getting worse and worse. At times, I felt as though Richard was being too stubborn and Kahlan was being too whiney, but it was the storyline that was unbearable for most of the book. If Goodkind had skipped over the description of horrible events and circumstances, and gotten right to the point, it would have much more enjoyable to read.

    However, once reading Temple of the Winds, I realized that this series could only get better (storyline-wise). Soul of the Fire and Faith of the Fallen are the next two in the series and by far Goodkind's best work.

    I suggest that you power through this book (it will take a while, even for the most advanced reader) and you will be rewarded by the rest of the Sword of Truth series!!

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