s bare back.
     "They're coming," the wizard announced without preamble.
     --]----
     Verna rushed up, having seen Zedd ride in. "It's too soon! They weren't
supposed to be here this soon!"
     He gaped at her in astonishment.  "Bags, woman, shall  I tell them that
it would  be rather inconvenient for them to attack right now and  to please
come back to kill us later?"
     "You know what I mean," she snapped. "We don't have enough, yet."
     "How long till they get here?" Kahlan asked.
     "Ten minutes."
     That thin sliver  of  time  was  the  only  bulwark  between  them  and
catastrophe.  Kahlan felt as  if her heart rose into  her  throat, recalling
suddenly the forsaken  feeling of  being  mobbed and beaten to death.  Verna
sputtered in wordless frustration, anger, and dread.
     "Do you have any ready?" Zedd  asked as calmly as if  he were inquiring
about dinner.
     "Yes, of course," she said. "But if  they will be here that soon, we've
not  enough. Dear Creator, we don't have nearly what we'll need  in order to
drift it out all across the front. Too little is as good as none."
     "We've  no choice, now."  Zedd gazed  off  into  the  darkness, perhaps
seeing  what  only  a  wizard  could   see.  His  jaw   was  set  in  bitter
disappointment.  He spoke in a disembodied voice,  a  man going through  the
motions when he knew he had come to the end of his options, perhaps even his
faith. "Start releasing what you have. We'll just have to hope for the best.
I have messengers  with me; I'll send word  of the situation back to General
Meiffert. He will need to know."-
     To  see Zedd  seemly  relinquish  hope  cast their  fate  in  the  most
frightening light possible. Zedd was always the one who  kept  them  focused
and  gave them courage,  conviction, and confidence. He gathered up Spider's
reins in one hand and gripped her mane with the other.
     "Wait," Kahlan said.
     He paused and looked back at her. His eyes were a window into  an inner
weariness. She couldn't imagine all the  struggles he had faced in his life,
or  even  in the last  few  weeks. Kahlan  ran through seemingly  a thousand
thoughts as she searched frantically for some way of turning away their grim
fate.
     Kahlan  couldn't  let Zedd down. He had  so often  carried them; now he
needed another shoulder to help endure the  weight. She presented him a look
of fierce determination before she turned to the Prelate.

     "Verna, what if we didn't  release it in the way we planned? What if we
didn't simply let it drift out, hoping for the breeze to. carry it  where we
need it?"
     Verna opened her hands in a bewildered gesture. "What do you mean?"
     "Won't it take more of  the glass-the amount you say you need-simply so
that there is enough to let it drift all the way  across the valley, and yet
have enough to hang in the air, too?"
     "Well . . . yes, of course, but-"
     "What if," Kahlan asked, "we  released  it in a line along  the face of
the front? Right where it was needed. Then it would take less, wouldn't it?"
     "Well I suppose." Verna threw  up her  hands. "But I told you, we can't
use  magic  to help  us or they will detect our conjuring and then they will
shield for the glass as fast as we release it. It will be useless. Better to
release what we have and hope for the best."
     Kahlan  glanced out  over  the empty plain faintly lit  by  the  placid
clouds  veiling  the moon. There  was nothing to be seen out in  the valley.
Soon,  there would be. Soon, the virgin snow would  be trampled by the boots
of over a million men.
     Only  the sound  of glass  being  crushed on stone and the thump of the
steel rods  in the barrels disturbed the quiet darkness. Soon, bloodcurdling
battle cries would inundate the hush of the night.
     Kahlan felt the suffocating dread she had felt  when she first realized
that all those men had caught her alone. She felt the anger, too.
     "Collect what you've made so far," she said. "Let me have it."
     They all stared at her.
     Zedd's  brow  drew  together in a  wrinkled  knot.  "Just what are  you
thinking?"
     Kahlan pulled  her  hair  back  from  her face  as she  rapidly  pieced
together her plan, so that it was whole in her own mind, first.
     "The enemy is attacking into the  wind-not directly, but  close  enough
for  our purpose. I'm thinking that if I ride along the  front  of our line,
right in front of the advancing  enemy troops, and I release the glass dust,
letting it dribble out as I go, then it will flow out in the wind behind me,
right into the faces of the enemy. Delivering it right where it's needed, it
won't take as much as it would were we to  let it drift out from here hoping
to spread  it all  across the valley." She looked  from one startled face to
another.  "Do you see what I'm saying? Closer to the enemy, wouldn't it take
much less to do the job?"
     "Dear  Creator," Verna protested, "do  you have any  idea how dangerous
that would be?"
     "Yes," Kahlan  answered in grim resolve.  "A  lot  less dangerous  than
facing a direct attack by their entire force. Now, would that work? Wouldn't
it take considerably less  if I were to  ride along the  front, trickling it
out as I went, than letting  it drift  out to  them from  here?  Well? We're
running out of time."
     "You're  right-it wouldn't take nearly as much." Verna touched  her lip
as she stared off into the darkness while considering. "It's better than the
way we were going to do it, that much is sure."
     Kahlan started pushing her. "Get it together. Now. Hurry."
     Verna abandoned her protests and ran off to collect what they had. Cara
was about to unleash a tirade of objections when Zedd lifted a hand as if to
ask she let him do the objecting, instead.
     "Kahlan, it sounds like you might have something here, but someone else
can do this. It's foolish to risk-"

     "I'll be needing a diversion," she said, cutting him off. "Something to
distract their attention. I'll  be riding by  in the dark,  so they probably
won't  notice me, but it  would be best  if there  were something  to occupy
their attention, just in case, something to make them look elsewhere-for the
last time."
     "As I was saying, someone else can-"
     "No,"  she said in  quiet finality.  "I'll  not ask someone else to  do
this. It was my idea. I'm doing it. I won't allow someone to take my place."
     Kahlan  deemed  herself responsible for the peril they were in. It  was
she who had blundered and fallen for Jagang's trick. It was she who had come
up  with the plan and  ordered the troops out. It  was she who made Jagang's
night attack possible.
     Kahlan  knew all too well the  terror  everyone felt,  waiting  for the
attack. She felt it herself. She thought of Holly, fearful of being murdered
by the marauding beasts coming out of  the night for  her. The fear  was all
too real.
     It would be Kahlan who had lost the war for them, this very  night,  if
they didn't get their army back across that pass to safety.
     "I'm doing this myself,"  she repeated. "That's  the  way it's going to
be. Standing here arguing about it can only  cost us our chance. Now, I need
a diversion, and I need one quickly."
     Zedd let out an angry breath. The fire was back in his eyes. He flicked
out his hand, pointing. "Warren is back there waiting for me. The two of  us
will move to separate locations and give you your diversion."
     "What will you do?"
     At last, Zedd surrendered to a grim, cunning grin. "Nothing fancy, this
time. No  clever devious tricks, like they no doubt expect. This time, we'll
give them a good old-fashioned firefight."
     Kahlan  gave a sharp tug to the  strap at her  ribs holding her leather
armor on her shoulders, chest, and back, cinching  it down tight. She nodded
once to seal the pact.
     "Wizard's fire it is, then."
     "Keep an eye to your right,  to our side, as you ride. I don't want you
to get in the way of what I mean for the enemy. You must also watch for what
their gifted send back at me."
     As  she  secured   her  cloak,  she  nodded   assent  to  Zedd's  brief
instructions. She checked the straps on her leg armor, making sure they were
tight, remembering  how the enemy's  strong fingers had clawed at her  legs,
trying to unhorse her.
     Verna came-rushing back,  a big  bucket  at the end of each  arm pulled
down straight by the weight. Some of the Sisters were scurrying along beside
her.
     "All right," the winded Prelate said. "Let's go."
     Kahlan reached for the buckets. "I'll take-"
     Verna yanked them back. "How  do you propose  to ride and sprinkle this
out? It's too much. Besides, you don't know its properties."
     :'Verna, I'm not letting you-"
     "Stop acting like an obstinate child. Let's go."
     Cara snatched one of the  buckets. "Verna is  right,  Mother Confessor.
You can't  hold on to your  horse, release  the glass  dust, and carry  both
buckets all at the same time. You two take that one, I'll take this one."
     The willowy  Sister  Philippa  rushed to  Cara's side  and  lifted  the
bucket. "Mistress Cara is right, Prelate. You and the Mother Confessor can't
do both buckets. You two take one; Mistress Cara and I will take the other."
     There was no time to argue with the three determined women. Kahlan knew
that

     no one would be able  to talk her out of what she had to  do, and  they
probably felt the same. Besides, they had a valid point.
     "All right," Kahlan said as she pulled on her gloves.
     She lashed tight  the fur  mantle she  wore  over the top  of  the wool
cloak. She  didn't want anything flapping in the wind. The hilt of her sword
was  covered,  but she figured  she  wouldn't  be  needing  it. The  hilt of
Richard's sword stuck up behind  her shoulder,  her ever-present reminder of
him-as if she  needed one. She quickly tied her  hair  back  with a  leather
thong.
     Verna tossed a handful of the  fluffy  snow, checking the wind.  It had
held  its direction and  was light,  but steady. At  least that much  was in
their favor.
     "You two  go first," Kahlan said to Cara. "Verna and I  will wait maybe
five minutes to let  what you release drift in toward the enemy, so  that we
won't ride  through it. Then,  we'll follow  you across the valley. That way
we'll  be sure to overlap  what you release  with ours so as not to have any
gaps.  We  need  to make sure there's no  safe  place for  the Order to  get
through.  We need  the ruin  and  panic  to be  as uniform and widespread as
possible."
     Sister  Philippa,  noting  what  Kahlan had done,  fastened  her  cloak
securely at her neck and waist. "That makes sense."
     "It would be more effective doubled like that," Verna agreed.
     "I guess there's no time to  argue this foolishness,"  Zedd grumbled as
he  seized  Spider's mane and  pulled himself up, laying across  the horse's
back  on his belly. He  swung a  leg over Spider's rump and sat up.  "Let me
have a minute or two to  get ahead of  you and  let Warren know,  then we'll
start showing the Imperial Order some real wizard work."
     He  pulled  his horse  around and smiled. It  was  heartening to see it
again.
     "After all this work, someone had better  have  some dinner waiting for
me on the other side of that pass back there."
     "If I have to cook it for you myself," Kahlan promised.
     The wizard gave them a jaunty wave and galloped off into the darkness.


        CHAPTER 39

     Kahlan  stuffed  a boot in  the  stirrup, grabbed the saddle horn,  and
sprang  up into  her seat.  The cold leather creaked as she  leaned over and
held a  hand  down in order to help Verna  up. Once  the Prelate squirmed in
close behind Kahlan, two Sisters carefully handed the heavy wooden bucket up
to her. Cara and Sister Philippa were on their horse and ready,  the  Sister
balancing her bucket on her thigh.
     "Get the children back across the pass," Verna ordered.
     Sister  Dulcinia  bobbed her head  of gray  hair. "I  will  see  to it,
Prelate."
     "Whatever  more of the glass you can have ready by the time  the Mother
Confessor and I ride out, you should release into the wind for good measure,
then get yourselves spread out  behind our lines to help if the Order breaks
through. If we fail,  the  Sisters must do their  best to hold the enemy off
while as many as possible make it across the pass to safety."
     Sister Dulcinia again promised to carry out the Prelate's orders.
     They  all waited a few  minutes  in silence  while giving Zedd the head
start he needed to reach Warren with instructions. There seemed nothing else
to  say. Kahlan concentrated  on  what  she had to  do, rather than worrying
whether or not it would work. In the back of her mind, though, she was aware
of how notoriously imperfect were such last-minute battle plans.
     Judging that they had waited  as long  as they  dared,  Kahlan motioned
with her  arm, signaling  Cara  to start out. The two of them  shared a last
look. Cara offered a brief smile, good luck-then raced away, Sister Philippa
holding tight to  the MordSith's waist with one arm and balancing the bucket
on her thigh with the help of her other hand.
     As  the sound of hoofbeats from Cara's  horse  faded  into  the  night,
Kahlan for the first time realized that, in the distance, she could hear the
collective yells of hundreds  of  thousands of  Imperial  Order  troops. The
countless  voices fused into one continuous  roar as their attack  drew ever
closer. It  almost sounded  like  the moan of an ill wind through a canyon's
rocky fangs.  Her horse snorted and pawed the frozen ground. The awful drone
made Kahlan's  pulse  race even faster. She wanted  to race away, before the
men got too close, but  she  had  to wait, to give the  glass dust Cara  and
Sister Philippa released time to drift out of the way.
     "I wish we could use magic to protect ourselves," Verna said in a quiet
voice,  almost as if  in  answer to  what Kahlan was thinking. "We can't, of
course, or they would detect it."
     Kahlan nodded, hardly hearing the woman. Verna was just saying anything
that came to mind so as not to  have to sit and  listen  to the enemy coming
for them.
     The bitter cold  long  forgotten, her  heartbeat throbbing in her ears,
Kahlan sat  still as  death, staring  out  into the empty  night,  trying to
envision every aspect of the

     task at  hand, trying to go  through it all in her  mind  first, so she
wouldn't be surprised by anything that  might happen and then have to decide
what to do. Better to anticipate, if you could, than to react.
     As she quietly sat her horse, she let her anger  build, too. Anger made
a better warrior than fear.
     Kahlan fed that anger with images  of all  the terrible  things she had
seen  the Imperial  Order do to the people  of  the  Midlands.  She  let the
memories of all the bodies she had seen pass through  her mind,  as if  they
came  before  the  Mother  Confessor  to  plead  with  stilled  tongues  for
vengeance.  She  remembered the  women she  had  seen wailing over  murdered
children, husbands, sisters,  brothers,  mothers and fathers. She remembered
strong men in helpless anguish over the senseless slaughter of their friends
and loved  ones. In her mind's eye,  she  saw those men, women, and children
suffering at the hands of a people to whom they had done no harm.
     The Imperial Order  was but  a  gang of killers without  empathy.  They
merited no pity; they would get none.
     She  thought about Richard in the hands  of that enemy. She savored her
promise to kill every one of them if she had to until she got Richard back.
     "It's time,"  Kahlan  said through  gritted teeth. Without looking back
over her shoulder, she asked, "Are you ready?"
     "Ready. Don't slow for  anything,  or  we will end up its victims, too.
Our only  chance  is to keep fresh air streaming over us  to carry the glass
dust all away from our bodies. When we  get to the opposite side, after I've
dumped it  all, then  we'll be safe. By that time,  the Order should be in a
state of mass confusion, if not complete panic."
     Kahlan nodded. "Hold tight. Here we go."
     The horse, already  in an excited state, probably  from the approaching
cries,  sprang away too  fast, nearly  dumping Verna  off the  back. Her arm
jerked tight around Kahlan's  middle. At  the same time, Kahlan reached back
and  caught Verna's  sleeve, holding  her on. As they raced  away  and Verna
fought  to regain  her balance,  the bucket lurched, but  Verna was able  to
steady it. Fortunately, it didn't spill.
     Even as the muscular gelding  was obeying her  command and racing away,
his ears were turned to the approaching clamor. He was skittish carrying the
unfamiliar  burden  of two riders. He  was well trained and  had seen battle
often enough,  so  he probably  was also edgy because he knew what  the  war
cries  signified. Kahlan knew he was  strong and quick.  For what she had to
do, speed was life.
     Kahlan's heart galloped  as fast as the horse as they thundered through
the blackness of the valley. The enemy was much closer, now,  than they  had
been  when Cara passed through not long before. The horse's hoofbeats partly
drowned out the battle cries of countless enemy soldiers to their left.
     Terrifying bits of memories of fists  and boots flashed  unbidden  into
her  mind  as she heard men coming toward  her in  the  dark, screaming  for
blood.  She  felt her vulnerability  as  never before.  Kahlan  turned those
memories from fear to anger  at the  outrage of these brutes coming into her
Midlands and murdering  her people. She wanted every one of them to  suffer,
and every one of them dead.
     There was no telling precisely how  far the enemy had already advanced,
or, with  the  moonlight  behind her, even her  own exact direction.  Kahlan
worried that she might have sliced it too  close to the bone, and that  they
could  unexpectedly encounter a wall of  bloodthirsty  men. She wanted to be
close, though, to deliver the blinding

     dust right in their faces, to  be sure it had  the best chance to work,
to turn back the attack.  She resisted the urge to guide  her horse  to  the
right, away from the enemy.
     The night  suddenly ignited with  harsh yellow light. The  clouds  went
from gray to bright  yelloworange. White snow blazed  with garish color.  An
awful droning sound vibrated deep under her ribs.
     A hundred feet in  front of her  and maybe ten  feet above  the ground,
tumbling  liquid yellow and blue  light roared  headlong  across her  route,
dripping honeyed fire, trailing billowing  black smoke. The  seething sphere
of wizard's fire vividly illuminated the ground beneath it as it shot  past.
Even though not directed at her, the sound  alone was enough to  make Kahlan
ache to cringe away in dread.
     She  knew enough about  wizard's fire, how it  clung tenaciously to the
skin,  to be more than wary of  it. Once that living  fire  touched you,  it
couldn't  be dislodged. Even a  single droplet of wizard's  fire would often
eat  through flesh down to bone. There was  no one  either brave or  foolish
enough not to fear it. Few people touched by such conjured  flame  lived  to
recount  the  horror of the experience. For  those who did, revenge became a
lifelong obsession.
     Then,  in  the light of that bright flame streaking  across  the valley
floor,  Kahlan  caught sight  of the  horde, all with swords, maces, flails,
axes, pikes, and lances raised in the air as they yelled their battle cries.
The men, grim, daunting, fierce, were all in the grip of a wild lust for the
fight as they ran headlong out of the night.
     In the  moonlight, Kahlan could see  for the  first time since  she had
joined up with the army the full extent of the enemy forces. The reports had
told  the story,  but  could not fully convey the reality of the sight.  The
numbers were so  far  removed from her experience as to defy  comprehension.
Eyes wide, jaw hanging open, she gasped in awe.
     Kahlan realized with alarm that the enemy  was much closer than she had
expected. Throughout the ocean of men, torches meant to be used to set fires
sparkled  like  moonlight off the vast sea flooding  into the valley. At the
horizon, that moonlight gleaming off uncountable weapons blurred into a flat
line over which she almost expected to see ships sailing.
     The undulating  leading edge, bristling  shields and spears, threatened
to close off her path. Kahlan  used her right heel, back against her horse's
flank,  to  guide  him a  little to the right  so  as  to clear the wave  of
soldiers. After she had corrected his course,  she thumped her heels against
the animal's ribs, urging him on.
     And then she  realized, as arrows zipped past and spears plunged to the
ground just in front of  her,  that  in the  light of the wizard's fire, the
enemy could see her, too.
     The ball of wizard's fire that had revealed her to the enemy wailed off
into the darkness, leaving her in shadow  and lighting tens of thousands  of
men at a time as it passed over their heads. Far in the distance, behind the
advancing  horde,  the  fire  finally  crashed  to  the  ground,  igniting a
conflagration in the midst  of the cavalry. Horsemen  were often  held back,
ready  to  charge  forth when their men encountered the  D'Haran  lines. The
distant mortal screams of man and beast rose into the night.
     An arrow skipped off her leather leg armor. More zipped past. One stuck
in  the  saddle just  below  her  stomach  as  she leaned  forward  over the
galloping horse's withers.  Apparently, in  the  moonlight  they could still
spot her and Verna racing past.
     "Why aren't they blind?" Kahlan called over her shoulder.
     She  could see  a cloud billowing  out  behind them.  It  looked little
different than

     the dust the horse raised as it galloped, except Kahlan saw that it was
coming from the  bucket Verna rested against  her  thigh as  she  tipped  it
toward the enemy lines, a little more, a little less, controlling the amount
that poured out, keeping it in a steady stream. Cara had already  been past,
yet the men showed no ill effect.
     "It  takes a little while to work,"  Verna  said in Kahlan's ear. "They
have to blink a bit."
     Fire raced  past right  behind them. Fiery  droplets splashed down onto
the snow, splattering when they hit, hissing like rain on hot stones round a
fire. The horse snorted as he raced onward in near panic. As she leaned over
his withers, Kahlan  stroked his neck reassuringly,  reminding him  that  he
wasn't alone.
     Kahlan let  her  gaze sweep along the advancing enemy line as she raced
before  them. She saw  that the men were  doing little blinking.  Their eyes
were wide in their fervor for the coming battle.
     The wizard's fire  that  had so spooked the  horse from behind exploded
through  the enemy ranks. Liquid flames spilled across the mass of soldiers,
touching off a shrill roar of ghastly cries.  When  burning men crashed into
soldiers  around them,  fire splashed  onto them, too, spreading the horror.
Around the fire, the advancing line buckled. Yet other men running  headlong
through  the night  trampled  those on the ground,  only to lose  their  own
footing and topple.
     Another sphere of wizard's fire droned past to crash down, spilling its
flame like  water from  a  burst dam. So massive  was the  eruption that the
surge swept men away, carrying them off in a flaming current.
     A huge knot of fire erupted out of  the enemy line not far in  front of
Kahlan, headed toward the D'Haran lines. Immediately, a small sphere of blue
flame roared in  from her right, meeting the ponderous globe of yellow flame
in midair. The  collision  sent a shower of  fire raining down around her as
she  rode past. Kahlan gasped and yanked the reins left as a fat  gob of the
plummeting fire crashed to  the ground right before them, splattering  flame
everywhere.
     They missed the fire by inches, but she now found herself closing  with
the  enemy  soldiers at an  alarming  rate. Kahlan  could  read some of  the
obscene oaths on their lips.  She spurred the terrified horse to the  right.
He turned a  little but not enough to divert them from angling in toward the
enemy lines.
     Glowing bits of fire rained down on the men as well as the open ground.
The  horse was  running  in a  panic, too frightened to  take direction from
Kahlan. The  stench of burning leather was adding fuel  to the horse's fear.
She  glanced  down  and  saw  a bit of  fire burning  on  the  leather armor
protecting her  thigh. The small but fierce  flame fluttered wildly  in  the
wind. She dared not try to brush the glowing  spot off lest it then stick to
her  hand.  She  feared to  imagine what it would feel like  when it finally
burned through the leather. She would have to endure  the pain when it  did;
she had no choice.
     Verna  didn't  realize what was  happening. She  was twisted  sideways,
still releasing the glass  dust.  Kahlan could see  the plume of it  carried
away behind them.  The long trail  curved, carried by  the breeze, into  the
enemy, past the  front  lines, back through the  ranks of soldiers, off into
the blackness. Farther back in  the Order's ranks, the torches lit the cloud
as it mingled with the dust churned up from the frozen ground.
     An  arrow nicked  the horse's shoulder and  skipped up into the air.  A
surge of men, seeing her coming, ran with wild abandon in an effort to block
her way.  Kahlan yanked  on the reins, trying  to haul the powerful  horse's
head to the right. In the grip

     of terror, the horse galloped on. She felt helpless as she tried to get
it  to turn. It was doing  no good. They were  headed right toward a wall of
men.
     "We're getting too close!" Verna yelled in her ear.
     Kahlan  was too busy to  answer. Her arm was shaking with the effort of
pulling on the right rein, trying  to turn the horse's  head over and to the
right, but  the horse had the bit in his teeth  and was stronger than she by
far. Sweat trickled down her neck. She stretched  her right leg back and dug
her  heel  into the  horse's right  flank to turn him.  The men  before them
brought  their pikes and  swords around to bear. Fighting was one thing, but
not having any control and just watching her fate come at her was different.
     "Kahlan! What are you doing!"
     With the pressure of her heel in front  of his  right rear leg, she was
finally forcing the horse to turn. It  wasn't enough. She wasn't going to be
able to divert the  runaway horse. The enemy  looked  like a steel porcupine
rushing at them.
     Three strides away, the horse lowered his head.
     "Good boy!" she cried.
     Maybe he had a chance to clear  the pikes. Kahlan took her  weight  off
the  saddle  and angled forward,  flattening her back.  She bent  her  arms,
giving  the  reins slack with her hands to either  side of the horse's neck.
She  kept pressure on him with her lower legs, but let him have  the freedom
he needed.
     She didn't know  if it  would work with the extra  weight. If only  the
pikes were shorter. Kahlan screamed for Verna to hold on.
     Wizard's fire  suddenly streamed past in  front of them, coming in low.
The men who had rushed ahead in a line to block  Kahlan's  way dove  to  the
ground.  The entire  line before them collapsed. The  fire wailed  past just
over top of them, finally touching down off to Kahlan's left. The cries of a
thousand men filled her ears.
     The  horse stretched his lowered head, getting his hocks underneath his
body.  At  the last instant, his neck  shortened and his  head came up as he
sprang upward,  using his powerful  hindquarters to launch himself. His back
rounded  as they sailed over the  leading edge of men.  Verna cried out, her
arm like a hook around Kahlan's middle. They came  down beyond the  soldiers
who had dropped flat. With her weight  on the stirrups, Kahlan used her legs
to absorb the shock-Verna couldn't.  With the  extra load,  the horse nearly
stumbled as it landed, but kept his balance and continued running. They were
at last clear of the Order soldiers.
     "What's the  matter  with you!" Verna yelled. "Don't do that or I won't
be able to let it out evenly!"
     "Sorry," Kahlan called over her shoulder.
     Despite  the cold wind in her face, sweat ran from her scalp. The Order
soldiers seemed to fall away to their rear quarter. Giddy relief washed over
her  as she realized they had made it past the bulge in the Imperial Order's
front lines.
     In the  distance behind them, a storm of fire lit  the  night. Zedd and
Warren were showing them a good old-fashioned firefight, as Zedd had put it.
It was a terrifying demonstration, if insufficient to stop an enemy as large
as the Order. As the Order's gifted raced to the scene and threw up shields,
it limited the death and devastation. The two wizards had bought  Kahlan and
Verna the time they had needed.
     Kahlan heard Cara calling "Whoa!" as she galloped up close.
     This  time,  with  Cara's horse heading  them  off,  the lathered mount
rapidly came  to a halt:  The horse  was exhausted,  as was  Kahlan. As they
dismounted beside Cara and Sister Philippa, Verna tossed the empty bucket to
the ground. Kahlan was glad

     it was dark, so that the  others couldn't see her  legs trembling.  She
was relieved to see that the spot of fire had expended itself before burning
through.
     The  four of  them  watched  as the  night  went mad with  flame,  most
exploding  against shields of  magic,  yet still doing  damage to anyone too
close. Zedd and Warren sent forth one tumbling  sphere  of fiery death after
another. The  cries of men could be heard all  along the line.  The fire was
being returned, reaping  death  in  the D'Haran lines,  but the Sisters were
throwing up their own shields.
     Still the vast  enemy army  advanced. At most,  the deadly  flames only
slowed them and disrupted their orderly attack.
     As  the  gifted on  both  sides gained control, they managed to nullify
each other's fiery attacks. Kahlan knew that  the  forward D'Haran lines had
no hope of  holding the onrushing  flood of the  Order. They had  no hope of
even slowing them. In the moonlight, she could see them beginning to abandon
their positions.
     "Why isn't it  working?"  Kahlan whispered, half to herself. She leaned
toward Verna. "Are you sure it was made properly?"
     Watching the  enemy's  headlong rush, and in  the din  of battle cries,
Verna didn't seem  to  hear the question.  Kahlan  checked  her  sword.  She
realized how futile it would be to try to fight. She felt Richard's sword on
her back, and considered drawing  it, but decided that it would be better to
run. She pushed  Verna, urging her to  their  spent horse. Cara did the same
with Sister Philippa.
     Before she stepped into the stirrup,  Kahlan noticed the Order slowing.
She saw men stumbling. Some groped with outstretched arms. Others fell.
     Verna pointed. "Look!"
     An  endless  moan of frightened agony began  rising up into the  night,
growing in intensity. Staggering men fell over one another. Some swung their
swords at an invisible enemy, hacking instead their blinded fellow soldiers.
     The progress of  the men at the  front slowed to a crawl. Soldiers kept
coming,  colliding  with the  stalled  front line. Cavalry horses  panicked,
bucking  off riders. Spooked horses ran off in every direction, oblivious of
the men they trampled. Racing wagons overturned. Confusion swept the enemy's
ranks.
     The advance buckled. The Imperial Order ground to a halt.
     Zedd and Warren  rode  up and dismounted,  both  sweating  despite  the
frigid night air. Kahlan gave Zedd's bony hand a squeeze.
     "You two saved our necks at the end, there."
     Zedd gestured to Warren. "Him, not me."
     Warren shrugged. "I saw your predicament."
     They all stared in wonder, watching the army gone blind.
     "You did it, Verna," Kahlan said. "You and your glass saved us."
     At  last, she  and Verna threw  their arms around each  other, tears of
relief coursing down their cheeks.


        CHAPTER 40

     Kahlan was one  of the last to  cross over the pass. The  valley beyond
was well protected by towering rock walls around the southern half. It was a
long  and  difficult  route around  those mountains  if  the  Order  had any
thoughts of attacking them here. While the troops of  the D'Haran Empire had
no intention of letting themselves get trapped in  that valley, for the time
being it was a safe place.
     Big  old spruces filled  the lap  of the surrounding mountains, so they
were somewhat protected from the wind, as  well.  Tents  carpeted the forest
floor.  It was good to see all the campfires and smell  the woodsmoke-a sign
that they were safe enough for  the men to have fires. The  aroma of cooking
filled the  late-night air,  too. It had been a  lot of work moving the army
and their equipment over the pass, and the men were hungry.
     General Meiffert looked as  pleased as any general would  when the army
he  feared lost was  at last safe-at  least for  the time  being.  He guided
Kahlan and Cara through the  darkness  dotted  by thousands of  campfires to
tents he  had  set  up for them. Along the  way,  he filled them  in  on how
everything with the army had gone, and ran through a list of what few things
they had had to leave behind.
     "It's  going to be a  cold night,"  General Meiffert said when they had
reached the tents he had set aside for them between  two towering spruce. "I
had a sack of pebbles heated by a fire  for you, Mother Confessor. You, too,
Mistress Cara."
     Kahlan  thanked  him before he left to see to his duties. Cara went off
to  go get  something  to eat.  Kahlan  told her to go  ahead, that she just
wanted to sleep.
     Inside her  tent, Kahlan  found Spirit  standing on a little table, the
lamp hanging from the ridgepole lighting her proud pose. She paused to trace
a finger down the flowing robes.
     Kahlan, her  teeth chattering, could hardly wait to crawl into  bed and
pull that sack of heated pebbles under the fur mantle with her. She  thought
about how cold she was, and then instead of climbing into her bed, went back
outside and searched through  the  dark camp until she found a Sister. After
following the Sister's directions, going between tents until she reached the
area with the thick young trees,  Kahlan found the small lean-to shelter set
among the boughs for protection from the wind and weather.
     She squatted down, peering inside at the bundle  of blankets  she could
just make out in the light coming from nearby campfires.
     "Holly? Are you in there?"
     A little head  poked out.  "Mother  Confessor?" The girl was shivering.
"What is it? Do you need me?"
     "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Come with me please."
     Holly climbed out, swaddled in  a  blanket. Kahlan took her little hand
and walked

     her  back  to her tent in silence.  Holly's eyes grew big and round  as
Kahlan ushered in inside.  Before the small table,  the girl paused to stand
still as a stump while she stared in wonder at Spirit.
     "Like it?" Kahlan asked.
     Trembling with  the cold,  Holly reverently ran her frail fingers  down
Spirit's arm. "Where ever did you get something so beautiful?"
     "Richard carved it for me."
     Holly finally pulled her  gaze from the statue and looked up at Kahlan.
"I miss Richard." Kahlan could  see Holly's breath in the motionless  air of
the tent. "He was always nice to me. A lot of  people were mean, but Richard
was always nice."
     Kahlan  felt  an unexpected stab of  anguish.  She hadn't expected  the
subject to turn to Richard.
     "What was it you needed, Mother Confessor?"
     Kahlan  turned her thoughts away from  her sorrow  and smiled.  "I  was
proud of the work you did to  help save us today.  I  promised you  that you
would be warm. Tonight, you will be."
     The girl's teeth were chattering. "Really?"
     Kahlan laid the Sword of Truth on the far side of the bed. She stripped
off some of her heavier clothing, doused the lamp, and then sat down on  the
straw-filled pallet. Light from  nearby campfires lent a  soft  glow  to the
tent's walls.
     "Come. Climb into bed with me. It's going  to be  very cold tonight.  I
need you to keep me warm."
     Holly only had to consider for a second.
     As Kahlan lay down on her  side, she  pulled  Holly's  back against her
stomach and  then  drew the sack  of heated  pebbles  up  against the girl's
front.  Holly hugged  the  sack  and  moaned with the thrill of  warmth. The
satisfied moan made Kahlan smile.
     For  a long time,  she smiled, enjoying the simple pleasure  of  seeing
Holly warm and safe. Having the girl there, holding her close, helped Kahlan
to forget all the terrible things she had seen that day.
     Far up in the mountains, a single wolf sang out in a long, lonely call.
The cry  echoed through the  valley, trailing off,  to be renewed  again and
again with forlorn persistence.
     With his  sword  at  her  back, Kahlan's  thoughts turned  to  Richard.
Thinking  about him, wondering where he was and if he was safe, she silently
wept herself to sleep.
     --]----
     The  next  day, snow moved  down from the higher mountains  to  rampage
across the southern regions of the Midlands.  The storms raged for two days.
The second night of the blizzard, Kahlan shared her tent with Holly, Valery,
and Helen. They sat under blankets, ate camp stew,  sang songs, told stories
of princes and princesses, and slept together to keep warm.
     When the snowstorm finally ended in a bleak golden sunrise, most of the
taller tents had  snow  drifted to  their eaves on their  downwind side. The
smaller  ones  were completely covered  over.  The  men dug themselves  out,
looking like so many woodchucks come up out of their burrows for a peek.
     Over the next several weeks, the storms continued to roll past, dumping
more snow. In such weather, fighting, or  even  moving an army very far, was
difficult.

     Scouts  reported that the  Imperial Order had withdrawn a  week's march
back to the south.
     It  would be a burden  to care for blinded men. Within a  days walk all
around the place where the  special  glass had  been  released,  the D'Haran
scouts reported that they had seen well over  sixty thousand frozen corpses,
now drifted over with the snow-blind men unable  to care  for themselves  in
the harsh  conditions.  The Imperial  Order had probably abandoned  them  to
their fate. A  few dozen  of the blind had managed to make it over the pass,
looking for help, begging for mercy. Kahlan had ordered them executed.
     It was hard telling the exact  number blinded by Verna's special glass;
it  could be that there were many who did in fact retreat with  the Imperial
Order, brought  along  to  perform menial tasks. It was likely, though, that
the corpses  reported by the scouts were  the bulk  of those blinded. Kahlan
could  imagine that Jagang might not want them  in his camp, using  food and
supplies, reminding his men of their stinging retreat.
     She  knew, though,  that for Jagang retreat was but a momentary setback
and not  a reappraisal of his objectives. The Order had  men enough to shrug
off the loss of  the hundred thousand killed since the fighting had started.
For the time being, the weather prevented Jagang from striking back.
     Kahlan didn't intend to sit and  wait for him. A  month later, when the
representative from Herjborgue arrived, she met with him immediately in  the
small trappers' lodge they had found up in the trees to the west side of the
valley. The lodge sat under the  protection of towering, ancient pines, away
from the  open areas where the tents were congregated. The lodge  had become
Kahlan's frequent quarters, and often also served as their command center.
     It  greatly relieved  General Meiffert when  Kahlan  would  stay in the
lodge, rather  than  a  tent.  It made him  feel  as if  the  army was doing
something about providing better accommodations for the Mother Confessor-the
wife of Lord Rahl. Kahlan and Cara did appreciate the  nights they  slept in
the  lodge, but  Kahlan  didn't  want anyone  to think  she wasn't up to the
conditions the rest of them had to endure. Sometimes, she would instead have
the girls sleep in the lodge along  with some  of the Sisters, and sometimes
she insisted Verna sleep there with Holly, Valery, and Helen. It didn't take
a great deal of effort to persuade the Prelate.
     Kahlan greeted Representative Theriault from the  land  of  Herjborgue,
inviting him into the cozy