Faith of the Fallen

"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 drawn spell.

He insisted this was nothing like that. As a guide, he said he'd passed many an evening at camp, by himself, carving. Not wanting to carry the added weight, he would toss the finished piece into the fire. He said he enjoyed the act of carving, and could always carve another. Kahlan considered the carvings inspired and found it distressing to see them destroyed.

"What do you intend to do, Lord Rahl? If I may ask."

Richard took a smooth, steady slice that demarcated the line of an ear, bringing it to life along with the line of the jaw he had already cut. He looked up and stared off into the night.

"We're going to a place back in the mountains, where other people don't go, so we can be alone, and safe. The Mother Confessor will be able to get well there and gain back her strength. While we're there, I may even make Cara start wearing a dress."

Cara shot to her feet. "What!" When she saw Richard's smile, Cara realized he was only joking. She fumed, nonetheless.

"I'd not report that part of it to the general, were I you, Captain,"

Richard said.

Cara sank back down to the ground. "Not if Brass Buttons, here, values his ribs," she muttered.

Kahlan struggled not to chuckle, lest she twist the ever present knives in her ribs. Sometimes, she felt as if she knew how the chunk of wood Richard was carving felt. It was good to see Richard, for once, get the best of Cara. It was usually she who had him flustered.

"I can't help you, for now," Richard said, his serious tone returning.

He went back to his work with his knife. "I hope you can all accept that."

"Of course, Lord Rahl. We know that you will lead us into battle when the time is right."

"I hope that day comes, Captain. I really do. Not because I want to fight, but because I hope there to be something to fight for." Richard stared into the fire, his countenance a chilling vision of despair. "Right now, there isn't."

"Yes, Lord Rahl," Captain Meiffert said, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence. "We will do as we think best until the Mother Confessor is better and you are then able to join us."

Richard didn't argue the time schedule, as the captain had described it. It was one Kahlan hoped for, too, but Richard had never said it would be that soon. He had, in fact, made it clear to them that the time might not ever come. He cradled the wood in his lap, studying what he had done.

He ran his thumb along the fresh-cut line of the nose as he asked, "Did the returning scouts say. . how it faired for the people in Anderith.

with the Imperial Order there?"