Richard struggled to maintain a level of outrage. "I make no alliances with those who would kill my friends."
"Even if they try to kill me first? Have I no right to defend myself? Am I to lay down and die, because it's your friends who would do the killing? Richard," she said, shaking her head with a frown and a smile, "think about what you are saying. Look at it from my eyes."
He thought about it, but said nothing. She gave his waist an affectionate squeeze.
"But you were very gallant. You, my hero, have done a very rare thing. You have put your life at risk for me, a witch woman. That kind of thing does not go unrewarded. You have earned a wish. Anything you want, simply name it, and it will be granted." With her free hand she made gliding motions in the air. "Anything, on my word."
Richard started to open his mouth, but Shota put a finger gently to his lips. Her warm body, firm beneath the thin dress, pressed against him. "Don't spoil my opinion of you by answering too quickly. You may have anything you want. Don't waste the wish. Think it over carefully before you ask. It's an important wish, offered for a reason, and perhaps the most important wish you will ever have. Haste could mean death."
Richard was seething, in spite of how strangely attracted he was to this woman. "I don't have to think it over. My wish is for you not to kill my friends. To leave them unharmed, and let them go."
Shota sighed. "I'm afraid that would complicate things."
"Oh? So, your word means nothing?"
She gave him a reproachful glare. Her voice had a hint of harshness to it. "My word means everything. I simply want you to know it would complicate matters. You came here for the answer to an important question. You have a wish coming. You have merely to ask the question as your wish, and I will grant it.
"Isn't that what you really want? Ask yourself what's more important; how many will die if you fail in your duty." She squeezed his waist again, her beautiful smile returning. "Richard, the sword is confusing you. The magic is interfering with your judgment. Put it away, then think again. If you are wise, you will heed my warning; it is not without reason."
Richard angrily thrust the sword back into its scabbard to show her he wouldn't change his mind. He looked back at Zedd, standing frozen in place. He looked over at Kahlan, snakes writhing all over her. When their eyes met, his heart ached for her. He knew what Kahlan wanted him to do; he could see it in her eyes; she wanted him to use the wish to find the box. Richard turned away from her, unable to witness her torment another moment. He regarded Shota with determination.
"I've put the sword away, Shota. It changes nothing. You are going to answer my question anyway. Your life, too, depends upon my knowing the answer. You have as much as admitted it. I'm not wasting my wish. To use it to get an answer you already intend to give me would be a waste of my friends' lives. Now, grant my wish!"
Shota regarded him with ancient eyes. "Dear Richard," she said softly, "a Seeker needs his anger, but don't let it fill your head to the exclusion of wisdom. Do not judge too quickly actions you do not fully understand. Not all acts are as they seem. Some are meant to save you."
Her hand came up slowly to the side of his face, reminding him again of his mother. Her gentleness made him feel calm, and somehow sad. In that moment, he felt his fear of her wane.
"Please, Shota," he whispered. "I have made my wish. Grant it."
"Your wish, dear Richard, is granted," she said in a sad whisper.
He turned to Kahlan. The snakes were still on her. "Shota, you made a promise."
"I promised I would not kill her, and that she could leave. When you go, she may go with you, I will not kill her. But she is still a danger to me. If she remains still the snakes will not harm her."
"You said Kahlan would have tried to kill you. That isn't true; she guided me here seeking your help, the same as me. Even though she intended you no harm, you would have killed her. And now you do this to her!"
"Richard," she touched a finger to her chin, thinking, "you come here thinking me evil, didn't you? Even though you knew nothing of me, you were ready to bring harm to me, based on what you invented in your head. You have committed to belief that which you have heard from others." There was no malice in her voice. "People who are jealous or afraid say these things. People also say that to use fire is wrong, and that those who use fire are evil. Does that make it true? People say the old wizard is evil, and that people die because of him. Does that make it true? Some of the Mud People say you brought death to their village. Does that make it true, because fools say it is so?"
"What kind of person would try to make me think she was my dead mother?" he asked bitterly.
Shota looked genuinely hurt. "Do you not love your mother?"
"Of course."
"What greater gift could anyone give, than the return of a passed loved one? Did it not give you joy to see your mother again? Did I ask for anything in return? Did I demand payment? For a moment, I gave you something beautiful, pure, a living memory of your love for your mother, and hers for you, at a cost to myself you could never fathom, and you see this, too, as evil? And in payment, you would think to take my head off with your sword?"
Richard swallowed hard, but didn't answer. He looked away from her eyes, feeling suddenly, unexpectedly, ashamed.
"Is your mind that poisoned by the words of others? Their fears? All I ask is to be judged by my deeds, to be seen for who I am, not what others say of me. Richard, don't be a soldier in this silent army of fools."
Richard stood speechless at hearing the words of his own beliefs coming back at him.
"Look around," Shota said, sweeping her hand through the air. "Is this a place of ugliness? Evil?"
"It's the most beautiful place I've ever seen," Richard admitted in a soft voice. "But that doesn't prove anything, and what about the place up there?" He pointed with his chin, toward the dark wood above
She took a brief glance. "Think of it as my moat." Shota smiled proudly. "It keeps away fools who would harm me."
Richard saved the hardest question for last. "And what of him?" He glanced toward the shadows, where Samuel sat, watching, with glowing yellow eyes.
She held Richard's gaze as she spoke, her voice heavy with regret. "Samuel, come here."
The disgusting creature skittered across the grass, to his mistress's side, pushing against her, making an odd, throaty gurgle. Samuel's eyes locked on the sword, and stayed there. Her hand reached down, stroking his gray head affectionately. Shota gave Richard a warm, brave smile.
"I guess a formal introduction is in order. Richard, may I introduce Samuel, your predecessor. The former Seeker."
Richard looked down, wide-eyed, speechless, to the companion.
"My sword! Gimme!" Samuel started to reach out. Shota spoke his name in caution without taking her gaze from Richard, and the little creature instantly withdrew his arms, nuzzling back against her hip. "My sword," he complained to himself in a low voice.
"Why does he look like that?" Richard asked cautiously, afraid of the answer.
"You really don't know, do you?" Shota lifted an eyebrow as she studied his face. Her sad smile returned. "The magic. Did the wizard not warn you?"
Richard shook his head slowly, unable to form words. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
"Well, I suggest you have a talk with him."
He forced himself to speak, but barely. "You mean, the magic will do this to me?"
"I'm sorry, Richard, I can't answer that." She gave a heavy sigh. "One of my talents is that I have vision for the flow of time, the way events flow into the future. But this is a type of magic, wizard's magic, that I cannot see; I am blind to it. I can't see how it flows forward.
"Samuel was the last Seeker. He came here many years back, desperate for help. But I could do nothing for him, other than take pity on him. Then the old wizard came, suddenly, one day, and took the sword." She lifted an eyebrow meaningfully. "It was a very unpleasant experience-for both of us. I'm afraid I must admit I do not think kindly of the old wizard." Her face softened again. "To this day, Samuel thinks of the Sword of Truth as his. But I know better. The wizards, for all ages, are the caretakers of the sword, and therein its magic, and only assign it to mere Seekers for a time."