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Kahlan put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a little smile。 Wo I do not wish it to be you； my friend； or your hunters。 I will take only three men。’ Everyone mumbled in confusion。 ‘More would bring attention； maybe trouble。 It will be easier with three to slip unnoticed。 It will take less time that way。’
Kahlan took the hand away and pointed at a man who stood watching； glaring。 ‘I choose you； Chandalen。’ The two brothers were standing to his side。 ‘And you； Prindin and Tossidin’
Chandalen stormed forward。 ‘Me！ Why would you want me！’
‘Because I must not fail。 I know that if I took Savidlin； he would try his hardest； but if he failed； the Mud People would know he did his best。 You are a better hunter of men。 Richard told me once that if he had to pick one man to fight beside him； it would be you； even though you hate him。
‘Where we go； men are the danger。 If I don’t make it； if you fail me； everyone will think it is because you didn’t try your hardest。 They will always think you let me die … let another Mud Person die … because you hate me and Richard。 If you let me be killed； you will never be weled back to the Mud People。 Your people。’
Prindin stepped forward； his brother right next to him。 ‘I will go。 My brother； too。 We will help you。’
Chandalen glared。 ‘I will not！ I will not go！’
Kahlan looked to the Bird Man。 His brown eyes met hers； and then he turned an iron gaze on Chandalen。 ‘Kahlan is a Mud Person。 You are the bravest； most cunning fighter among us。 It is your responsibility to protect us。 All of us。 You will do this。 You will go with her。 You will follow her orders and you will get her safely to where she wishes to go。 Or； you will leave now； and never return。 And Chandalen； if she is killed； don’t e back。 If you do； we will kill you as we would kill any outsider with black painted on his eyes。’
Chandalen shook with rage。 He threw his spear on the ground。 Seething； he put fists to his hips。 ‘If I am to leave our land there will have to be a ceremony to call the spirits to protect us on our journey It will take until tomorrow。 We leave then。’
All eyes went to Kahlan。 ‘I leave in one hour。 You will be with me。 You haw until then to prepare。’
Kahlan turned to the spirit house to change out of her wedding dress； into her traveling clothes； and to get her things together。 She gratefully accepted Weselan’s offer to help。
CHAPTER 18
Fat； wet flakes of snow drifted down； sometimes falling harder； gathering in gusts and swirling into white curtains。 Richard rode in a numb haze； behind Sister Verna； the third horse tethered to his and trotting along behind。 When the snow swept down in dense flurries； the Sister was no more than a gray shape ahead of him。
It never occurred to him to wonder where they were going； or to close his cloak against the cold； biting wind。 It didn’t matter； nothing mattered。
His thoughts seemed to float and dance with the snow； unable to settle。 He had never loved anything in his life the way he loved Kahlan。 She had bee his life。
And she had sent him away。
He hurt too much to think of anything else。 He was stunned that she would doubt his love； that she would send him away。 Why would she send him away？
His mind drifted in and out of dense； desperate thoughts。 He couldn’t understand how she could ask him to put on a collar to prove his love。 He had told her what wearing a collar meant to him。 Maybe he should have told her all of it。 Maybe then she would have understood。
His chest ached where Darken Rahl had burned him。 When he reached up and touched the bandage； he finally noticed that the snow flurries had stopped。 The low； scudding clouds were broken in places； letting shafts of sunlight shine through。 The grassland was a flat； dead brown； and the clouds a dull； dead gray。 The landscape was a colorless； empty expanse。
By the angle of the sun he realized it was getting to be late afternoon。 They had been riding for a long time； in silence； Sister Verna had said nothing to him。
He reached up and experimentally touched the collar for the first time。 It was smooth； seamless； cold。 He had said he would never wear a collar again。 He had promised himself。 Yet here he was wearing one。 Worse； he had put it on himself； put it on because Kahlan had asked him to。 Because she doubted him。
For the first time since he had put it on； he forced himself to think of something else。 He couldn’t think about Kahlan anymore； couldn’t stand the pain。 He was the Seeker； he had other things to think about； important things。 With a gentle squeeze of his lower legs to the horse’s girth； he urged it ahead； pulling it close beside the Sister’s chestnut gelding。
Richard reached up to push back the hood of his cloak； and realized it wasn’t even up； so he ran his fingers through his wet hair instead。 He looked over at Sister Verna。
There are some things we have to talk about。 Important things you don’t know about。’
She glanced over without emotion。 The edge of her hood partially blocked her face。 ‘And what would those things be？’
‘I am the Seeker。’
She looked away； returning her eyes to where they had been。 ‘That is hardly something I don’t know。’
Her calm； unconcerned attitude annoyed him。 ‘I have responsibilities。 I told you before： there are important things going on you know nothing about。 Dangerous things。’ She didn’t respond。 It was as if he hadn’t spoken。 He decided to cut right to the heart of it。 ‘The Keeper is trying to escape the underworld。’
‘We do not speak his name。 You are not to speak it as you have just done。 It brings his attention。 When we must speak of him； he is addressed as the Nameless One。’
She was talking to him as if he were a child。 Kahlan’s life was in danger and this woman was treating him like a child。 ‘I don’t care what you call him； he’s trying to get out。 And I assure you； I already have his attention。’
At last she looked over； unconcerned。 The Nameless One is always trying to get out。’
Richard took a deep breath and tried again。 The veil to the underworld is torn。 He is going to get out。’
Sister Verna turned to him once more； this time pulling the edge of the hood back to get a better look。 Curly brown hair peeked out the edge of the dark； heavy hood。 She had an odd frown。 A frown of amusement。 There was a wisp of a smile at the corners of her mouth。
The Creator himself put the Nameless One where he is。 The Creator himself placed the veil with His own hand to keep him there。’ Her smile swelled a little as her eyebrows came closer together； creasing her weathered brow。 The Nameless One cannot escape the prison the Creator has placed him in。 Do not be afraid； child。’
Exploding in rage； Richard wheeled his bay mare around toward the Sister。 The two horses jostled； whinnying and tossing their heads。 Richard firmly snatched the reins of the Sister’s surprised horse to keep it from rearing； or bolting。
He leaned toward her； his chest heaving in fury。 ‘I will not be called names！ I will not have names put to me because I wear a collar！ I am Richard！ Richard Rahl！’
Sister Verna didn’t flinch。 Her voice remained calm and smooth。 ‘I’m sorry； Richard。 It was only force of habit。 I am used to dealing with ones much younger than you。 I meant nothing demeaning by it。’
The way she stared at him made him feel suddenly foolish； embarrassed。 Made him feel like a child。 He released the reins。 ‘I apologize for yelling。 I’m not in a very good mood。’
She frowned again。 ‘I thought your name was Cypher。’
He tugged his cloak over his chest where the bandage covered his burn。 ‘It’s a long story。 George Cypher raised me as his son。 I only found out a short time ago that I am in truth the son of Darken Rahl。’
Her frown deepened。 ‘Darken Rahl。 The one with the gift you killed？ You killed your father？’
‘Don’t look at me like that。 You didn’t know him。 You have no idea what kind of man he was。 He imprisoned and tortured and killed more people than you or I could imagine。 The idea of him being with my mother makes me sick。 But that is the truth of it。 I am his son。 If you expect me to be sorry I killed him； you will have longer than eternity to wait。’
Sister Verna shook her head with what seemed genuine concern。 ‘I’m sorry； Richard。 Sometimes the Creator weaves a tangled cloth for our lives； and we are left to wonder why。 But I am sure of one thing： He has reasons for what He does。’
Babble。 He was getting babble from this woman。 He urged his horse around and started out again。 ‘I’m telling you； the veil is torn； and the Keeper is going to get out。’
Her voice lowered dangerously。 ‘The Nameless One。’
He glanced over； annoyed。 Tine。 The Nameless One。 I couldn’t care less what you want to call him； but he is going to get out。 We are all in great danger。’
Kahlan was in great danger。
He didn’t care if this sorceress of a Sister burned him to a cinder； his life meant nothing to him anymore。 His only concern was Kahlan’s sa