Michael put an arm around Richard's shoulder. "I know it hurts, and I am sorry, but it's for a greater good. Did you see the tears in their eyes? The things I've started are going to take us all to a better life, and help Westland grow to prominence. I believe what I said; we have to look to the challenge of the future with excitement, not fear."
"And what did you mean about the boundaries?"
"Things are changing, Richard. I have to stay ahead of them." The smile was gone. "That's all I meant. The boundaries won't last forever. I don't think they were ever meant to. We all have to be ready to face up to that."
Richard changed the subject. "What have you found out about Father's murder? Have the trackers picked up anything?"
Michael took his arm back. "Grow up, Richard. George was an old fool. He was always picking up things that didn't belong to him. He probably got caught with something that belonged to the wrong person. A person with a bad temper, and a big knife."
"That's not true! And you know it!" Richard hated the way Michael called their father "George." "lie never stole anything in his life!"
"Just because the person you take it from is long dead, that doesn't mean you have any right to it. Someone else obviously wanted it back."
"How do you know all this?" Richard demanded. "What have you found out?"
"Nothing! It's common sense. The house was torn apart! Someone was looking for something. They didn't find it, George wouldn't tell them where it was, they killed him. That's all there is to it. The trackers said there were no tracks. We'll probably never know who did it." Michael glared. "You had better learn to live with that fact."
Richard let out a deep breath. It made sense; someone was looking for something. He shouldn't be angry with Michael be- cause he couldn't find out who. Michael had tried. Richard wondered how there could be no tracks.
"I'm sorry. Maybe you're right, Michael." Another thought struck him. "So, it didn't have anything to do with this conspiracy? It wasn't those men trying to get to you?"
Michael waved his hand. "No, no, no. It had nothing to do with that. That problem has been taken care of. Don't worry about me, I'm safe, everything is all right."
Richard nodded. Michael's face turned to a look of annoyance.
"So, little brother, how come you're such a mess? Couldn't you at least clean yourself up? It's not like you didn't have notice. You have known about this party for weeks."
Before he could answer, Kahlan spoke up. Richard had forgotten she was still standing next to him.
"Please forgive your brother, it was not his fault. He came to guide me into Hartland and I was late in coming. I pray he is not dishonored in your eyes because of me."
Michael's eyes glided down the length of her before returning to her face. "And you are?"
Her back stiffened as she stood tall. "I am Kahlan Amnell."
Michael gave a slight smile and a small bow of his head. "So, you are not my brother's escort, as I thought. And where have you traveled from?"
"It is a small place, far away. I am sure you would not know of it."
Michael didn't challenge the answer, but turned to his brother instead. "You will stay the night?"
"No. I have to go see Zedd. He's been looking for me."
Michael's smile melted. "You should find better friends. No good can come of spending your time with that contrary old man." He turned back to Kahlan. "You, my dear, will be my guest tonight."
"I have other arrangements," she said warily.
Michael reached around her with both arms, cupped both hands to her bottom and pulled the lower half of her body hard against him. His leg pressed between her thighs.
"Change them." His smile was as cold as a winter night.
"Remove. Your. Hands." Her voice was hard and dangerous. Each stared into the other's eyes
Richard was dumbfounded. He couldn't believe what his brother was doing. "Michael! Stop it!"
They both ignored him and continued to confront one another, faces close, eyes locked together. Richard stood next to them, feeling helpless. He could sense that both wanted him to stay out of it. His body tensed, muscles hard, ready to disregard the feeling.
"You feel good," Michael whispered. "I think I could fall in love with you."
Kahlan's breathing was slow and restrained. "You do not know the half of it." Her voice was even and controlled. "Now, remove your hands."
When he did not, she slowly placed the fingernail of her first finger on his chest, just below the hollow at the base of his neck. As they glared at each other, she slowly, ever so slowly, began to drag her nail downward, ripping his flesh open. Blood ran down skin in rivulets. For a brief moment, Michael didn't move, but then his eyes could not disguise the pain. He flung open his arms and staggered back a step.
Without looking back, Kahlan stormed out of the house.
Richard gave his brother an angry glare he could not suppress, and followed her out.
CHAPTER 4
RICHARD RAN DOWN THE walkway to catch up with her. Kahlan's dress and long hair flowed behind as she marched along in the late-afternoon sunlight. When she reached a tree, she stopped and waited. For the second time that day, she wiped blood off her hand.
As he touched her shoulder, she turned, her calm face showing no emotion.
"Kahlan, I'm sorry…
She cut him off. "Do not apologize. What your brother did, he was not doing to me, he was doing to you."
"To me? What do you mean?"
"Your brother is jealous of you." Her face softened. "He is not stupid, Richard. He knew I was with you and he was jealous."
Richard took her arm and started walking down the road, away from Michael's house. He was furious with Michael, and at the same time he was ashamed of his anger. He felt as if he were letting his father down.
"That's no excuse. He's First Councilor; he has all anyone could want. I'm sorry I didn't put a stop to it." "I did not want you to. It was for me to do. What he wants is whatever you have. If you had stopped him, having me would be a contest he would have to win. This way he has no more interest in me. Besides, what he did to you, about your mother, was worse. Would you have wanted me to have stepped in on your behalf?"
Richard put his eyes back to the road. He choked off his anger. "No, that was not for you to do."
As they walked, the houses became smaller, closer together, but remained clean and well kept. Some of their owners were out taking advantage of the good weather to make repairs before winter. The air was clean and crisp, and Richard knew by the dryness of it that it would be a cold night; the right kind of night for a fire of birch logs, fragrant but not too hot. The white-fenced yards gave way to larger garden plots in front of small cottages set farther back from the road. As he walked, Richard plucked an oak leaf from a branch hanging close to the road.
"You seem to know a lot about people. You're very perceptive, I mean about why they do what they do."
She shrugged. "I guess."
He tore little pieces off the leaf. "Is that why they hunt you?"
She looked over as they walked, and when his eyes came to her, she answered. "They hunt me because they fear truth. One reason I trust you is because you do not."
He smiled at the compliment. He liked the answer, even though he wasn't sure what it meant. "You aren't about to kick me, are you?"
A grin came to her face. "You are getting close." She thought a moment, the smile fading, and went on. "I am sorry, Richard, but for now you must trust me. The more I tell you, the greater the danger, to both of us. Still friends?"
"Still friends." He threw the skeleton of the leaf away. "But someday you will tell me all of it?"
She nodded. "If I can, I promise I will."
"Good," he said cheerfully. "After all, I am a `seeker of truth. »