Faith of the Fallen

The enemy, so confident and arrogant as they had charged in, relishing the prospect of spilling D' Haran blood, were now nothing more than pathetic men in the ungainly grip of despair as the D'Harans hacked them to death.

Kahlan left the soldiers with the lances and pikes, now that a defensive line had been established and the enemy was trapped, and ran back through the fires and choking smoke to find Verna, Adie, and Cara. She had to dodge wounded soldiers of both armies on the ground. The fallen attackers who still had fight in them snatched at her ankles. She had to stab several who tried to rise up to grab her. Others afoot who suddenly appeared, she had to cut down.

The enemy knew who she was, or at least they were pretty sure. Jagang had seen her, and no doubt had described the Mother Confessor to his men.

Kahlan was sure to have a heavy price on her head.

There seemed to be Imperial Order men scattered throughout the camp.

She doubted there had been an attack by foot soldiers; they were probably cavalrymen who had lost their mounts. Horses were often easier moving targets to hit with arrows and spears than were men. In the gathering darkness it was hard to make out enemy soldiers. They were able to sneak through the camp undiscovered as they hunted targets of value, such as officers, or maybe even the Mother Confessor.

When the lurking enemy spotted Kahlan making her way through the chaos, they came out from their hiding places to go after her with wild abandon.

Others, she came upon and surprised. Remembering not only her father's training, but Richard's admonition, Kahlan cut fiercely into the enemy soldiers. She gave them no opening; no chance; no mercy.

Her training under her father had been a good foundation for the esoteric tactical precepts that Richard had taught her when she was recovering from her wounds back in Hartland. Richard's way had seemed so strange, then; now, it seemed so natural. In much the same way a lighter horse could outmaneuver a big warhorse, her lighter weight became her edge.

She didn't need the weight because she simply didn't clash with the enemy in the traditional manner, as they expected. She was a hummingbird, floating out of their reach, swooping in between their ponderous moves to efficiently deliver death.

Such moves were not at odds with the manner of fighting that her father had taught, but complemented it in a way that fit her. Richard had trained her not with a sword, but with a willow switch, a mischievous smile, and a dangerous glint in his eyes. Now, Richard's sword, strapped over the back of her shoulder, was an everpresent reminder of those playful lessons that had been not only unrelenting, but deadly serious.

She finally found Verna, bent over Cara, but didn't see the general anywhere. Kahlan snatched Verna's sleeve.

"How is she?"

"She threw up, but that seemed to have helped, once it passed. She will probably be woozy for a while, but I think she's otherwise all right."

I "She has a thick skull," Adie said. "It not be cracked, but she should lie still for a time-at least until she recovers her balance."

Cara's hands groped as if having trouble finding the ground beneath her. Despite her obvious dizziness, she was cursing the Prelate and trying to sit up. Kahlan, squatting beside Cara, pressed her shoulder to the ground.

"Cara, I'm right here. I'm fine. Lie still for a few minutes."

"I want at them!"

"Later," Kahlan said. "Don't worry, you'll get your chance." She saw that the blood was cleaned from Adie's head. "Adie, how are you? How is your head?"

The old sorceress gestured dismissively. "Bah. I be fine. My head be thicker than Cara's."

Soldiers had gathered, forming a protective wall of steel. Verna, Adie, and Kahlan crouched over Cara, keeping an eye on the surrounding area, but the fighting immediately around them seemed to have ended. Even if pockets of battle remained, with the large number of D'Haran soldiers who had protectively closed ranks, the four women were safe for the time being.

General Meiffert finally returned, charging through the line of D'Haran defenders as they parted for him. He leaped from his enemy warhorse. The horse tossed his head at the indignity of being ridden by the enemy, and ran off. The young D'Haran general crouched down on the opposite side of Cara.

Winded, he started talking anyway.

"I've been down checking with the front lines. This is a raid, much like what we've been doing to them. It looked bigger than it really was.

When they spotted the Mother Confessor, they called their men into this area, so the damage was mostly focused in this section."

"Why didn't we know?" Kahlan asked. "What went wrong with the alarm?"

"Not sure." He was shaking his head, still getting his breath. "Zedd thinks that they learned our codes, and that when we blew the alarm, they must have used Subtractive Magic to alter the magic woven into the sound that tells our gifted that it's a real attack."