Drag his body past the brush over there and
roll  him  off the edge, down into the ravine. I'd just  as soon the  bodies
weren't found  until after  we're long gone  and far away. Probably only the
animals  will ever find  them  way out  here,  but I don't want to  take any
chances."
     Cara snatched a  fistful of Tommy Lancaster's hair. "With pleasure." He
was stocky, but the weight gave her no difficulty.
     Richard  trotted soundlessly  off  into  the gathering darkness. Kahlan
listened to the sound  of  the body scraping across  the  ground.  She heard
small branches  snapping  as Cara  pulled the dead weight through the brush,
and then the  muffled  thuds and tumbling scree as  Tommy  Lancaster's  body
rolled and bounced  down a  steep slope. It was  a  long time before  Kahlan
heard the final thump at the bottom of the ravine.
     Cara ambled back to the side of the carnage. "Everything all right with
you?" She casually pulled off her armored gloves.
     Kahlan blinked at the woman. "Cara, he nearly had me."
     Cara flicked her long blond braid back over her shoulder as she scanned
the surrounding area. "No he didn't. I was  standing  right there behind him
the whole time. I was nearly  breathing down his  neck. I never took my eyes
from  his  knife.  He had no chance  to harm you."  She  met Kahlan's  gaze.
"Surely, you must have seen me."
     "No, I didn't."
     "Oh. I thought you saw me." Looking a little sheepish,  she tucked most
of the cuffs of the gloves behind her belt and folded the rest down over the
front.  "I guess maybe  you were  too  low  in the carriage  to see me there
behind  him.  I had my attention  on him. I didn't mean to  let him frighten
you."

     "If you were there the whole time, why did you allow him to nearly kill
me?"
     "He did not  nearly kill you." Cara smiled without humor. "But I wanted
to let  him believe  it. It's more of a shock, more of a horror, if you  let
them  think  they've won. It crushes a  man's spirit to  take him then, when
you've caught him dead to rights."
     Kahlan's head was swimming in confusion and so she decided not to press
the issue. "What's going on? What's happened? How long have I been asleep?"
     "We have  been traveling for  two days. You have  been  in  and out  of
sleep, but you didn't know anything the times you were  awake. Lord Rahl was
fretful about hurting you to get you into the carnage, and about having told
you . . . what you forgot."
     Kahlan knew what Cara meant: her dead baby. "And the men?"
     "They  came after us.  This time,  though,  Lord Rahl didn't discuss it
with  them." She  seemed especially  pleased about that. "He  knew in enough
time that they were coming,  so we weren't taken by surprise. When they came
charging in, some with arrows noched and some with their swords or axes out,
he shouted at them-once-giving them a chance to change their minds."
     "He tried to reason with them? Even then?"
     "Well, not exactly. He told them to go home in peace, or they would all
die."
     "And then what?"
     "And  then  they all laughed. It  only  seemed to  embolden them.  They
charged,  arrows  flying, swords and axes raised. So Lord Rahl ran  off into
the woods."
     "He did what?"
     "Before they came, he  had  told  me that he was going to make them all
chase after him. As  Lord  Rahl  ran, the one  who thought he would cut your
throat yelled at the others to `get Richard, and finish him this time.' Lord
Rahl had hoped he would draw them all away from  you, but when that one went
after you instead, Lord Rahl gave me a look and I  knew what he wanted me to
do."
     Cara clasped her hands behind her back as she scrutinized the gathering
darkness,  keeping  watch, should anyone  try  to  surprise  them.  Kahlan's
thoughts turned to Richard, and  what it must have been like,  all  alone as
they chased him.
     "How many men?"
     "I didn't count them." Cara shrugged. "Maybe two dozen."
     "And you left Richard alone with two dozen  men chasing after him?  Two
dozen men intent on killing him?"
     Cara shot  Kahlan an incredulous look. "And leave you unprotected? When
I  knew  that  toothless  brute  was going after you?  Lord Rahl  would have
skinned me alive if I had left you."
     Tall  and  lean,  shoulders  squared  and  chin raised, Cara looked  as
pleased as a cat licking mouse off its whiskers. Kahlan suddenly understood:
Richard had entrusted  Cara with Kahlan's life; the MordSith had proven that
faith justified.
     Kahlan felt a smile stretch the partly healed cuts on her lips. "I just
wish I'd , known you were standing there the whole time. Now, thanks to you,
I won't need the wooden bowl."
     Cara didn't  laugh.  "Mother Confessor,  you should  know that  I would
never let R anything happen to either of you."
     Richard appeared out of the shadows as suddenly as he had vanished.  He
stroked  the horses reassuringly. As  he moved down beside them, he  quickly
checked the  neck collars, the trace chains, and the  breaching to make sure
it was all secure.
     "Anything?" he asked Cara.
     "No, Lord Rahl. Quiet and clear."
     He leaned  in the carnage and smiled. "Well, as  long as you're  awake,
how about I take you for a romantic moonlight ride?"
     She rested her hand on his forearm. "Are you all right?"
     "I'm fine. Not a scratch."
     "That's not what I meant."
     His smile vanished.  "They tried to kill us. Westland has just suffered
its first casualties because of the influence of the Imperial Order."
     "But you knew them."
     "That doesn't entitle  them to misplaced  sympathy.  How many thousands
have I seen killed since I left here? I couldn't even convince men I grew up
with of the truth. I couldn't even get them  to listen fairly. All the death
and  suffering I've seen  is ultimately  because of  men like  this-men  who
refuse to see.
     "Their willful  ignorance  does  not entitle  them to my blood or life.
They picked their own path. For once, they paid the price."
     He didn't sound to her like a  man who was quitting the fight. He still
held the sword, was still in the grip of its rage.  Kahlan caressed his arm,
letting him know that she  understood.  It was clear to her that even though
he'd been justly defending himself, and though he was still  filled with the
sword's rage, he keenly regretted what  he'd  had to do. The  men,  had they
been able to kill Richard instead, would have regretted nothing.  They would
have celebrated his death as a great victory.
     "That was still perilous-making them all chase after you."
     "No, it wasn't. It drew them out  of  the open and into the trees. They
had to  dismount. It's rocky and the footing is poor, so they couldn't  rush
me together or with speed, like they could out here on the road.
     "The light is failing; they  thought  that was  to  their advantage. It
wasn't.  In the trees  it  was even darker.  I'm wearing  mostly black. It's
warm, so I'd left my gold  cape behind, here in the carriage. The little bit
of gold on  the rest of the  outfit  only serves to break up the  shape of a
man's figure in the near-dark, so they had an even harder time seeing me.
     "Once I took down Albert,  they stopped thinking  and fought  with pure
anger  until they  started seeing  blood and  death. Those men  are used  to
brawls, not battles.  They had  expected  an  easy  time  murdering  us-they
weren't mentally prepared to  fight for their own  lives.  Once they saw the
true nature of what was  happening, they ran for their lives. The ones left,
anyway. These are my  woods. In their  panic,  they became confused and lost
their way in the trees. I cut them off and ended it."
     "Did you get them all?" Cara asked, worried about any  who might escape
and bring more men after them.
     "Yes. I knew most of them, and besides, I had their number in  my head.
I counted the bodies to make sure I got them all."
     "How many?" Cara asked.
     Richard turned to take up the reins. "Not enough for their purpose." He
clicked his tongue and started the horses moving.


        Chapter 5

     Richard rose  up and  drew  his sword. This time,  when its distinctive
sound rang out in the night, Kahlan was awake. Her first instinct was to sit
up. Before she even had time to think better of it, Richard had crouched and
gently restrained her with  a  reassuring hand.  She  lifted her  head  just
enough to  see that it  was Cara, leading a  man  into the harsh, flickering
light  of the campfire. Richard sheathed his sword when he saw who Cara  had
with her: Captain Meiffert, the D'Haran  officer who had been with them back
in Anderith.
     Before any  other greeting, the  man  dropped  to his  knees  and  bent
forward, touching his forehead to the soft ground strewn with pine needles.
     "Master Rahl guide  us. Master Rahl  teach us. Master Rahl protect us,"
Captain Meiffert beseeched in sincere reverence. "In  your light  we thrive.
In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are  humbled. We live only
to serve. Our lives are yours."
     When he had gone to his knees to recite the devotion, as it was called,
Kahlan saw Cara almost reflexively go  to  her knees with  him, so ingrained
was the  ritual.  The supplication to  their  Lord  Rahl  was something  all
D'Harans did.  In the  field they commonly recited it  once or, on occasion,
three  times. At the People's Palace in D'Hara, most people gathered twice a
day to chant the devotion at length.
     When he'd been  a captive of  Darken  Rahl, Richard,  often in much the
same condition as Tommy  Lancaster  just before  he died, had  himself  been
forced to his knees by Mord-Sith and  made to perform the devotion for hours
at a time. Now, the Mord-Sith, like all  D'Harans,  paid that same homage to
Richard. If the Mord-Sith saw  such a turn  of events as improbable, or even
ironic, they never  said as much. What many of them had found improbable was
that Richard hadn't had them all executed when he became their Lord Rahl.
     It  was Richard, though, who had  discovered that the devotion to their
Lord Rahl  was  in fact  a  surviving  vestige  of a bond, an  ancient magic
invoked by one of his ancestors to protect the D'Haran people from the dream
walkers. It had long been believed that the dream walkers-created by wizards
to be  weapons  during  that  ancient  and  nearly  forgotten great  war-had
vanished from  the world.  The conjuring of strange and varied  abilities-of
instilling  unnatural attributes  in people-willing or  not, had once been a
dark art,  the  results always  being  at  the  least  unpredictable,  often
uncertain, and sometimes dangerously unstable. Somehow,  some  spark of that
malignant  manipulation  had been passed  down  generation after generation,
lurking unseen for three thousand years-until it rekindled in the person  of
Emperor Jagang,
     Kahlan  knew something about the alteration of living  beings to suit a
purpose. Confessors  were such people, as  had  been the  dream  walkers. In
Jagang, Kahlan

     saw  a  monster created by magic.  She knew many people saw the same in
her. Much as some people had blond hair or brown eyes, she had  been born to
grow  tall,  with  warm  brown  hair, and  green  eyes-and the  ability of a
Confessor.  She  loved  and laughed and longed  for things  just the same as
those born with blond hair or brown eyes, and  without a Confessor's special
ability.
     Kahlan  used  her power for  valid,  moral  reasons. Jagang, no  doubt,
believed the same  of himself, and even if he didn't,  most of his followers
certainly did.
     Richard,  too,  had been  born with latent power. The ancient,  adjunct
defense  of the bond  was  passed  down  to  any  gifted  Rahl. Without  the
protection of the bond to Richard-the Lord Rahl-whether formally spoken or a
silent heartfelt  affinity,  anyone  was vulnerable  to Jagang's power as  a
dream walker.
     Unlike most  other permutations  conjured by  wizards in living people,
the Confessor's ability had always remained vital; at least it had until all
the other Confessors had been murdered by order of Darken Rahl. Now, without
such wizards  and  their specialized conjuring, only if Kahlan  had children
would the magic of the Confessors live on.
     Confessors usually  bore girls, but not always. A Confessor's power had
originally been created  for, and  had been intended  to  be used by, women.
Like  all  other  conjuring  that introduced  unnatural abilities in people,
this, too, had had unforeseen consequences:  a Confessor's male children, it
turned out, also bore the power. After it had been learned  how  treacherous
the power could be in men, all male children were scrupulously culled.
     Kahlan bearing a male child was precisely what  the witch woman, Shota,
feared. Shota knew very well that Richard would never allow his and Kahlan's
son  to be  slain for  the past evils of male Confessors. Kahlan, too, could
never allow Richard's son to be killed. In the past, a Confessor's inability
to marry out of love was one of the reasons she could emotionally endure the
practice of infanticide. Richard,  in discovering the means  by which he and
Kahlan could be together, had altered that equation, too.
     But Shota didn't  simply fear Kahlan giving birth to a male  Confessor;
she  feared  something of potentially far greater magnitude-a male Confessor
who possessed Richard's gift. Shota had foretold  that  Kahlan  and  Richard
would conceive  a male child. Shota viewed such a child  as an evil monster,
dangerous beyond comprehension, and so had vowed to kill their offspring. To
prevent such a thing from being required, she had given them the necklace to
keep  Kahlan from  becoming pregnant.  They  had  taken it  reluctantly. The
alternative was war with the witch woman.
     It was for reasons such as this that Richard abhorred prophecy.
     Kahlan  watched  as Captain  Meiffert spoke the devotion a third  time,
Cara's lips moving with his. The soft chant was making Kahlan sleepy.
     It was a luxury for  Kahlan to be able to be down with Richard and Cara
in the sheltered camp, beside the warmth of the fire, rather  than having to
stay in the carriage, especially since the night had turned chilly and damp.
With the litter they could move her more easily and without causing her much
pain. Richard would  have made the litter sooner, but he hadn't  expected to
have to abandon the house he had started to build.
     They were  far off  the  narrow,  forsaken  road,  in a  tiny  clearing
concealed in a cleft in a steep rock wall behind a dense expanse of pine and
spruce.  A small meadow  close by provided a snug  paddock for  the  horses.
Richard and Cara had

     pulled the carriage off the road, behind a mass of deadfall, and hidden
it with spruce and balsam boughs. No one but  a D'Haran bonded to their Lord
Rahl had much  of a chance  of ever finding  them in the vast  and trackless
forest.
     The secluded spot had a fire pit Richard  had dug and ringed with rocks
during a previous stay, nearly a year before. It  hadn't been used since.  A
protruding shelf of  rock about seven or eight feet above them prevented the
light of the campfire  from shining  up the rock wall, helping keep the camp
hidden. Its slope also kept them  snug and dry in the drizzle that had begun
to  fall. With  a fog  closing  in, too, it was  as  protected  and secure a
campsite as Kahlan had ever seen. Richard had been true to his word.
     It  had  taken  more like six  hours than four  to  reach the campsite.
Richard had  proceeded slowly  for Kahlan's sake. It  was late and they were
all  tired from  a  long  day of traveling,  to say nothing  of  the attack.
Richard had told her that it looked like it might rain for a day or two, and
they would stay in the camp and rest up until the weather cleared. There was
no urgency to get where they were going.
     After the third devotion, Captain Meiffert  came haltingly to his feet.
He clapped his right fist to  the leather over his heart in  salute. Richard
smiled and the two men clasped forearms in a less formal greeting.
     "How are you doing, Captain?" Richard grasped the man's elbow.  "What's
the matter? Did you fall off your horse, or something?"
     The  captain glanced at Cara, to  his side. "Ah, well, I'm  fine,  Lord
Rahl. Really."
     "You look hurt."
     "I just had my ribs . . . tickled, by your Mord-Sith, that's all."
     "I didn't do it hard enough to break them," Cara scoffed.
     "I'm truly sorry, Captain.  We had a bit of trouble earlier today. Cara
was  no doubt  worried  for our  safety when she saw you approaching in  the
dark."  Richard's  eyes turned toward Cara. "But she still should  have been
more  careful  before risking injuring people. I'm sure she's sorry and will
want to apologize."
     Cara made a sour face. "It was dark. I'm not  about to take any foolish
chances with the life of our Lord Rahl just so-"
     "I  would  hope  not,"  Captain Meiffert  put in  before Richard  could
reprimand her. He smiled at Cara. "I was once kicked by a stalwart warhorse.
You did  a better job of putting  me down, Mistress  Cara. I'm gratified  to
find  Lord  Rahl's  life is in capable hands. If sore ribs are the  price, I
willingly accept it."
     Cara's  face brightened.  The captain's simple  concession  disarmed  a
potentially nettlesome situation.
     "Well, if the ribs bother you, let me know," Cara said dryly, "and I'll
kiss them and make them better." In the silence, as Richard glowered at her,
she scratched her ear and  finally added, "Anyway,  sorry. But I didn't want
to take any chances."
     "As I said, a price I willingly pay. Thank you for your vigilance."
     "What are  you doing here, Captain?" Richard asked.  "General  Reibisch
send you to see if the Lord Rahl is crazy?"
     Although it was  impossible to  tell in the firelight, Kahlan was  sure
that the man's face turned scarlet. "No, of course not, Lord Rahl. It's just
that the general wanted you to have a full report."
     "I see."  Richard  glanced down at  their dinner pot. "When's  the last
time you ate, Captain? You look a little drawn, besides having sore ribs."
     "Well, ah,  I've been  riding hard, Lord Rahl. I guess yesterday I must
have eaten something. I'm fine, though. I can have something after-" 42
     "Sit  down, then." Richard  gestured. "Let me get you something  hot to
eat. It will do you good."
     As  the man reluctantly settled down on the mossy ground  beside Kahlan
and Cara,  Richard  scooped some rice and  beans  into a bowl. He  cut a big
piece of bannock from what he'd left to cool on  the griddle off to the side
of the fire. He held the bowl out to the man. Captain Meiffert saw no way to
prevent it, and was now mortified to find himself being served by none other
than the Lord Rahl himself.
     Richard had to lift the food toward him a second  time  before  he took
it. "It's only  some rice and beans, Captain.  It's  not like I'm giving you
Cara's hand in marriage."
     Cara  guffawed. "Mord-Sith don't  marry. They  simply  take a man for a
mate if they wish him-he gets no say in it."
     Richard glanced up at her. Kahlan knew by Richard's tone that he hadn't
meant anything by the comment but he didn't laugh with Cara. He knew all too
well  the  truth of  her  words.  Such an act was  not an  act of  love, but
altogether the opposite. In  the uncomfortable  silence, Cara  realized what
she'd  said, and  decided to break some branches down and  feed  them to the
fire.
     Kahlan knew  that Derma, the  Mord-Sith  who  had captured Richard, had
taken him for her mate. Cara knew it, too. When Richard would sometimes wake
with a start and cling to  her, Kahlan wondered  if his  nightmares were  of
things imaginary or real. When she kissed his sweat-slicked  brow  and asked
what he had dreamed, he never remembered. She was thankful for  that much of
it.
     Richard retrieved a long stick that had been propped against one of the
rocks ringing the fire. With his  finger, he slid several sizzling pieces of
bacon off the stick and into the captain's bowl, and then set  the big piece
of bannock on top. They had with them a variety  of food. Kahlan  shared the
carnage with all  the supplies Richard  had picked up  along  their  journey
north to Hartland. They had enough staples to last for a good long time.
     "Thank you," Captain Meiffert  stammered.  He brushed back his fall  of
blond hair. "It looks delicious."
     "It is," Richard said. "You're lucky: I made dinner tonight, instead of
Cara."
     Cara,   proud  of  being   a  poor  cook,  smiled  as  if  it  were  an
accomplishment of note.
     Kahlan was sure it was a story that would  be repeated to wide eyes and
stunned disbelief: the Lord Rahl himself serving food to one of  his men. By
the way the captain ate, she guessed it had been longer than  a day since he
had eaten. As big as he was, she figured he had to need a lot of food.
     He  swallowed  and  looked  up.  "My horse." He  began to  stand. "When
Mistress Cara. . . I forgot my horse. I need-"
     "Eat  your food." Richard stood and clapped Captain Meiffert's shoulder
to keep him seated. "I was going to check on our horses anyway. I'll  see to
yours as well. I'm sure it would like some water and oats, too."
     "But, Lord Rahl, I can't allow you to-"
     "Eat. This will save time; when I get back, you'll be done and then you
can give me your report." Richard's shape became  indistinct as he dissolved
into the shadows, leaving only a disembodied voice behind. "But I'm afraid I
still won't have any orders for General Reibisch."
     In the stillness, crickets once  again took up their rhythmic chirping.
Some dis-

     tance away, Kahlan heard a night bird calling. Beyond the nearby trees,
the horses whinnied contentedly,  probably when Richard greeted  them. Every
once in  a while a feather of mist  strayed in under the overhang to  dampen
her cheek. She wished she could turn on her side and close her eyes. Richard
had given  her some  herb tea and it was beginning  to make  her  drowsy. At
least it dulled the pain, too.
     "How are  you, Mother Confessor?" Captain Meiffert  asked. "Everyone is
terribly worried about you."
     A Confessor wasn't often confronted with such honest and  warm concern.
The young man's simple question was so sincere it almost brought  Kahlan  to
tears.
     "I'm getting better, Captain. Tell everyone I'll be fine after I've had
some time to heal. We're going someplace quiet where  I  can enjoy the fresh
air of the arriving summer and get some rest. I'll be better  before autumn,
I'm sure. By then, I hope Richard will be
     of the war."
     The captain  smiled. "Everyone will be relieved to know you're healing.
I  can't tell you how many  people told me  that  when I return they want to
hear how you're doing."
     "Tell them  I  said  I'll be fine  and  I  asked for them not to  worry
anymore about me, but to take care of themselves."
     He ate another spoonful. Kahlan saw in his eyes that  there was more to
the man's anxiety. It took him a moment before he addressed it.
     "We are concerned, too, that you and Lord Rahl need protection."
     Cara,  already  sitting  straight, nevertheless  managed  to straighten
more,  at  the  same time making  the subtle  shift  in her  posture  appear
threatening. "Lord Rahl and the Mother Confessor are not without protection,
Captain; they have me. Anything  more than a Mord-Sith is  just pretty brass
buttons."
     This time, he  didn't back down. His  voice rang with the clear tone of
authority.  "This  is  not  a matter  of  disrespect,  Mistress Cara, nor is
presumption intended. Like you, I am sworn  to their safety,  and that is my
proper concern. These brass buttons have met the enemy before in the defense
of Lord Rahl, and I don't really  believe a Mord-Sith would want to deter me
from that duty for no more reason than petty pride."
     "We're going  to a remote and secluded place," Kahlan said, before Cara
could answer. "I think our solitude, and  Cara, will be ample protection. If
Richard wishes it otherwise, he will say so."
     With a reluctant nod, he  accepted her answer.  The last of it, anyway,
settled the matter.
     When  Richard had taken  Kahlan north,  he had  left their guard forces
behind. She knew it  was  deliberate, probably part of his  conviction about
what  he  felt he had  to do.  Richard  wasn't  opposed  to the  concept  of
protection; in  the past, he had accepted troops being with them. Cara, too,
had been insistent  on  having the security  of those  troops along.  It was
different, though, for Cara to admit it directly to Captain Meiffert.
     They had spent a good deal of time in Anderith with the captain and his
elite forces. Kahlan knew him to be a superb officer. She thought he must be
approaching his mid-twenties-probably a soldier for a decade already and the
veteran of a number of campaigns, from minor rebellions to open warfare. The
sharp wholesome lines of his face  were just beginning to take on  a  mature
set.
     Over millennia, through war, migration, and  occupation, other cultures
had mixed

     in   with  the  D'Haran,  leaving   a  blend  of   peoples.   Tall  and
broad-shouldered,  Captain Meiffert  was marked as  full-blooded D'Haran  by
blond  hair  and  blue  eyes,  as  was  Cara.  The  bond  was  strongest  in
full-blooded D'Harans.
     After  he  had  finished  about  half his  rice, he  glanced  over  his
shoulder,  into the darkness  where Richard  had gone. His earnest blue eyes
took in both Cara and Kahlan.
     "I don't mean  it  to sound judgmental  or personal, and I hope I'm not
speaking out of turn, but may I ask you both a . . . a sensitive question?"
     "You may, Captain," Kahlan  said. "But I  can't promise  we will answer
it."
     The  last part  gave him  pause  for  a moment,  but then he  went  on.
"General Reibisch and some of the other officers . . . well, there have been
worried discussions  about Lord Rahl. We  trust  in  him, of course," he was
quick to add. "We really do. It's just that . . ."
     "So what  are  your concerns,  then,  Captain?" Cara put  in, her  brow
drawing tight. "If you trust him so much."
     He stirred his wooden spoon around the bowl. "I  was there  in Anderith
through the whole  thing.  I  know how hard he worked-and you,  too,  Mother
Confessor. No  Lord  Rahl  before him  ever  worried about  what the  people
wanted. In the past,  the only thing that mattered  was what the  Lord  Rahl
wanted. Then, after all that, the people rejected his offer-rejected him. He
sent  us  back  to  the main force,  and just left  us"-he  gestured  around
himself-"to  come here. Out in the middle of  nowhere. To  be a  recluse, or
something." He paused while searching for the  right words. "We don't . .  .
understand it, exactly."
     He looked up from the fire, back into their eyes, as he went on. "We're
worried that Lord  Rahl has lost his will to fight-that he simply  no longer
cares. Or perhaps . . . he is afraid to fight?"
     The look on his face told Kahlan that he feared reprisal for saying the
things  he said, and  for  asking such a  question, but he needed the answer
enough to  risk  it.  This  was probably  why he had come  to give a report,
rather than send a simple messenger.
     "About six  hours before  he cooked that nice dinner  pot  of  rice and
beans," Cara said in a casual manner, "he killed a  couple dozen men. All by
himself. Hacked them apart like  I've never  seen before. The violence of it
shocked even  me.  He left only one man for me to dispatch. Quite unfair  of
him, I think."
     Captain  Meiffert looked  positively  relieved  as  he  let out  a long
breath. He looked away from  Cara's steady  gaze and back into  his bowl  to
stir his dinner.
     "That  news will be  well  received. Thank you for telling me, Mistress
Cara."
     "He  can't  issue  orders,"  Kahlan  said,  "because  he  unequivocally
believes  that, for now, if he takes part in leading our forces  against the
Imperial Order, it would bring  about  our  defeat. He  believes  that if he
enters the battle too soon, we will then  have no chance of ever winning. He
believes he must  wait for the right time, that's all. There's nothing  more
to it."
     Kahlan felt  a bit  conflicted,  helping  to justify Richard's actions,
when she  wasn't  entirely in favor  of them.  She felt it  was necessary to
check the advance  of the Imperial Order's  army  now, and  not  give them a
chance to freely pillage and murder the people of the New World.
     The  captain mulled this over as he ate some bannock.  He frowned as he
gestured with the  piece he had left. "There is sound battle theory for such
a strategy. If you  have any choice in it, you only attack when it's on your
terms, not the enemy's."

     He  became more spirited as he thought about it a moment. "It is better
to hold an attack for  the  right  moment,  despite the damage an  enemy can
cause in the  interim, than to go into  a battle before the right time. Such
would be an act of poor command."
     "That's right." Kahlan laid her arm back and rested her right wrist  on
her  brow.  "Perhaps you  could  explain it  to the  other officers in those
words-that  it's premature to issue orders,  and he's waiting for the proper
time. I  don't  think that's  really  any different from the way Richard has
explained it to us, but perhaps it would be better understood if put in such
terms."
     The captain ate the last bite of his bannock, seeming to think it over.
"I trust Lord Rahl with my life. I know the others do, too, but I think they
will be  reassured by  such an  explanation as to why he is withholding  his
orders. I can see now why he had to leave us-it was to resist the temptation
to throw himself into the fray before the time was right."
     Kahlan wished she was as confident of the reasoning as the captain. She
recalled Cara's question, wondering how the people could prove themselves to
Richard. She knew he would not be  inclined to try it through a vote  again,
but she didn't see how else the people could prove themselves to him.
     "I'd not mention it to Richard," she  said. "It's difficult for him-not
being able to issue orders. He's trying to do what he believes is right, but
it's a difficult course to hold to."
     "I understand, Mother Confessor. `In his wisdom we are humbled. We live
only to serve. Our lives are his.' "
     Kahlan studied the smooth lines and simple angles of his young face lit
by  the  dancing firelight. In that  face,  she saw some of what Richard had
been  trying to  say to her before. "Richard doesn't  believe your lives are
his, Captain, but that they are your own,  and priceless. That is what he is
fighting for."
     He chose his words carefully; if he wasn't worried about her being  the
Mother Confessor, since he hadn't grown up fearing the power and the rule of
such a woman, she was still the Lord Rahl's wife.
     "Most of us see how different he is from  the  last Lord  Rahl. I'm not
claiming that any  of us understands  everything  about him, but we  know he
fights  to  defend,  rather  than  to  conquer. As  a  soldier,  I know  the
difference it makes to believe in what I'm fighting for, because. . ."
     The  captain looked away from her  gaze. He  lifted a  short branch  of
firewood,  tapping the end  on the ground for a  time. His  voice took on  a
painful inflection, "Because it takes something precious out of you to  kill
people who never meant you any harm."
     The fire crackled  and hissed as he slowly stirred the  glowing  coals.
Sparks  swirled  up to  spill out  from around  the  underside  of  the rock
overhang.
     Cara watched her Agiel as she rolled it in her fingers. "You . . . feel
that way too?"
     Captain Meiffert met Cara's gaze. "I never realized,  before,  what  it
was doing to  me, inside. I didn't  know.  Lord  Rahl  makes me proud  to be
D'Haran. He makes  it stand for something right  .... It never did before. I
thought that the way  things  were, was just the way things  were, and  they
could never change."
     Cara's  gaze fell away  as  she privately nodded her  agreement. Kahlan
could only imagine  what life was like living  under that kind of rule, what
it did to people.
     "I'm  glad  you  understand,  Captain," Kahlan  whispered. "That's  one
reason he

     worries so much about all of you. He wants you to live lives you can be
proud of. Lives that are your own."
     He dropped the  stick into  the fire. "And he  wanted all the people of
Anderith  to  care  about themselves the way he wants us to value our lives.
The vote wasn't really  for him,  but for themselves. That was why the  vote
meant so much to him?"
     "That's  why,"  Kahlan  confirmed,  afraid to  test  her own voice  any
further than that.
     He  stirred his spoon around to  cool  his  dinner. It no longer needed
cooling,  she  was  sure. She supposed  his thoughts were being stirred more
than his dinner.
     "You know," he  said,  "one of the  things I heard people say,  back in
Anderith, was that since Darken Rahl was his father, Richard Rahl was  evil,
too.  They said that  since his father  had done wrong, Richard  Rahl  might
sometimes do good, but he could never be a good person."
     "I  heard that too,"  Cara  said. "Not just in Anderith,  but a lot  of
places."
     "That's wrong. Why  should people think that  just  because  one of his
parents  was cruel, those crimes pass on to someone who never did  them? And
that he must spend his  life making amends? I'd hate  to think  that  if I'm
ever lucky enough to have children, they, and then their children, and their
children after that, would have to suffer forever  for  the things I've done
serving  under Darken Rahl." He  looked  over  at  Kahlan  and  Cara.  "Such
prejudice isn't right."
     In the silence, Cara stared into the flames.
     "I served under Darken Rahl. I know the difference in the two men." His
voice  lowered with simmering  anger. "It's wrong of people to lay guilt for
the crimes of Darken Rahl onto his son."
     "You're right  about that,"  Cara murmured. "The two may look  a little
alike, but anyone who has ever  looked into the eyes of both men, as I have,
could never begin to think they were the same kind of men."

        Chapter 6

     Captain Meiffert  ate the rest of his rice  and beans in  silence. Cara
offered him her waterskin. He  took it  with  a smile and his nod of thanks.
She dished him out a second bowlful from the pot, and cut  him another piece
of  bannock.  He looked  only slightly  less  mortified  to  be  served by a
Mord-Sith  than  by the  Lord Rahl. Cara  found his  expression amusing. She
called  him "Brass Buttons" and told him to eat  it  all.  He did so as they
listened to the sounds of the fire snapping and water dripping from the pine
needles onto the carpet of leaves and other debris of the forest floor.
     Richard  returned,  loaded  down   with  the   captain's   bedroll  and
saddlebags. He let them slip to the ground beside the officer and then shook
water off himself before sitting  down beside Kahlan. He offered her a drink
from a full waterskin he'd brought back. She  took only a sip. She was  more
interested in being able to rest her hand on his leg.
     Richard yawned.  "So, Captain Meiffert, you said the general wanted you
to give a full report?"
     "Yes, sir." The  captain went into a  long and detailed account on  the
state  of the army  to the south, how they were stationed out on the plains,
what passes they guarded in the mountains, and how they planned on using the
terrain, should the Imperial Order suddenly come up out of Anderith and move
north  into  the  Midlands. He reported on the health  of the men and  their
supply  situation-both good. The  other  half of  General Reibisch's D'Haran
force was back in Aydindril, protecting the city, and Kahlan was relieved to
hear that everything there was in order.
     Captain  Meiffert relayed all the communications they'd  received  from
around the Midlands,  including from Kelton  and Galen,  two of the  largest
lands of  the Midlands that were now allied with the new D'Haran Empire. The
allied lands  were helping  to  keep  the  army  supplied,  in  addition  to
providing men for rotation of patrols, scouting land they  knew  better, and
other work.
     Kahlan's half brother, Harold, had brought word that Cyrilla,  Kahlan's
half sister, had  taken  a  turn for  the better.  Cyrilla had been queen of
Galea.  After her  brutal treatment in  the hands  of the enemy, she  became
emotionally  unbalanced  and  was unable  to  serve  as  queen.  In her rare
conscious moments, worried for her people, she had begged Kahlan to be queen
in  her stead.  Kahlan had  reluctantly  agreed,  saying  it was  only until
Cyrilla  was well  again. Few people  thought she would ever  have  her mind
back, but, apparently, it looked as if she might yet recover.
     In order to soothe  the ruffled  feathers of Galea's neighboring  land,
Kelton, Richard had named  Kahlan queen of  Kelton.  When Kahlan first heard
what  Richard  had  done, she  had  thought  it was  lunacy. Strange as  the
arrangement was, though, if

     suited both lands, and brought them not only peace with each other, but
also into the fold of those lands fighting against the Imperial Order.
     Cara  was  pleasantly surprised  to hear that a number of Mord-Sith had
arrived  at the Confessors' Palace  in  Aydindril, in case Lord Rahl  needed
them. Berdine would no doubt be pleased to have some of her sister Mord-Sith
with her in Aydindril.
     Kahlan missed Aydindril. She guessed  the place you grew up could never
leave your heart. The thought gave her a pang of sorrow for Richard.
     "That would be Rikka," Cara said with  a  smile. "Wait until she  meets
the new Lord Rahl," she  added under her  breath,  finding that even more to
smile about.
     Kahlan's  thoughts  turned to the people they had  left to the Imperial
Order-or more  accurately, to the people  who had chosen the Imperial Order.
"Have you received any reports from Anderith?"
     "Yes,  from a number of men we sent in there. I'm afraid  we lost some,
too. The ones who  returned report that there were fewer  enemy deaths  from
the poisoned  waters than we  had hoped. Once the Imperial  Order discovered
their soldiers dying, or  sick, they tested everything on  the local people,
first. A number of  them died  or became  sick, but it wasn't widespread. By
using the people  to test the food and  water, they were able to isolate the
tainted  food  and  destroy it.  The  army  has  been been  laying claim  to
everything-they use a lot of supplies."
     The  Imperial  Order was said to  be  far larger  than  any  army  ever
assembled. Kahlan  knew that much of the reports  to be  accurate. The Order
dwarfed the  D'Haran and Midland  troops arrayed against them perhaps ten or
twenty  to onesome reports claimed more than that.  Some reports claimed the
New World forces were outnumbered by a hundred to one, but Kahlan discounted
that  as outright panic.  She didn't know how long the Order would  feed off
Anderith before they moved on, or if they were being resupplied from the Old
World. They had to be, to some extent, anyway.
     "How many scouts and spies did we lose?" Richard asked.
     Captain  Meiffert  looked  up. It  was  the first question Richard  had
asked.  "Some may yet turn up, but it appears likely  that we lost fifty  to
sixty men."
     Richard sighed. "And  General Reibisch thinks  it was worth  losing the
lives of those men to discover this?"
     Captain  Meiffert  cast about for an answer.  "We  didn't know what  we
would discover, Lord Rahl;  that was why we sent them in. Do you wish  me to
tell the general not to send in any more men?"
     Richard was carving a face in a piece of firewood, sporadically tossing
shavings into the fire. He sighed.
     "No,  he must do as he sees  fit.  I've explained to him that  I  can't
issue orders."
     The captain, watching Richard pick small chips of wood from his lap and
pitch  them into  the  fire,  tossed  a  small fan  of pine needles into the
flames,  where  it blazed  in  short-lived  glory.  Richard's carving was  a
remarkably good likeness of the captain.
     Kahlan had, on occasion, seen Richard casually carve animals or people.
She once had strongly suggested that his ability was guided by  his gift. He
scoffed at such  a  notion, saying that he had liked to carve ever  since he
was little. She reminded him that art was used to cast spells, and that once
he had been captured with the aid of a