Stone of Tears

She ran Nick through the D’Harans, trampling those who got in the way. The men scattered in momentary dread of the white spirit woman, some calling to the spirits for protection. But others came back swinging weapons. If they caught Nick’s legs…

She fought back with her sword and her warhorse, as they closed around her. Her men were fading into the fog. Run, she bid them, run. She swung the sword at men who reached out. The next time she glanced back, she saw nothing but dark fog and mist. She was losing her sense of direction as she wheeled Nick around, charging at the men, trying to buy her own men the time they needed to escape.

She tried to break away, but the enemy swarmed around her, with more coming all the time. Some yelled at the others that she was just a woman, and not a spirit, and they weren’t going to let a woman get away. She felt more naked than she had felt all night.

Men threw themselves around Nick’s legs, and although he reared and kicked them off, even more took their place, staggering the big horse with their weight. Kahlan hacked furiously at the men, shearing off arms, splitting skulls, and stabbing bodies.

With a sea of men all around her, she suddenly realized that her situation was untenable. She knew that if they got her off her horse, she was finished, and her horse was being hobbled. Try as she might, she couldn’t get the men away.

For the first time that night, she truly feared she wasn’t going to make it. She was going to die, here, in the snow, in this mist-shrouded valley. She would never see Richard again.

She felt an abrupt, icy pain in the bite on her neck. Darken Rahl’s bite. She thought she heard quiet laughter in the air.

She slashed away at the men grabbing for her. Powerful fingers clutched her legs. The pain of those fingers urged her into frantic stabbing. Nick managed to spin, the men’s feet flying outward, but they held on tight. She slashed and hacked the arms. More caught hold of her horse’s bit, taking control from her. A horse was valuable plunder, and they didn’t want it killed, as long as they thought they were in control of the situation.

A big soldier grabbed the horn of her saddle, dragging himself up. “don’t kill her! It’s the Mother Confessor! Don’t kill her! She must be alive when she’s beheaded!”

She slashed the side of his neck, A fountain of hot blood gushed across her thigh. Another yelled, “don’t kill her! Bring the bitch down!” A cheer went up from the reaching men.

She swung at the grasping hands. Fingers raked her legs. Eyes all around leered up at her. She slashed wildly as Nick stumbled sideways, trying to pull his head free, but the men held his bit tight.

A man leapt up from behind and snatched her by the hair. She let out a cry as he yanked her backward off the saddle. Hands grappled her as she tumbled to the ground. Everyone went down in a pile under her. Big hands seized her by her legs, her waist, her ankles, and her breasts.

Fingers wrapped around the blade, trying to wrench it from her. She twisted the hilt, severing the fingers. She swung and stabbed ferociously. Bodies pressed her to the cold ground, pressed the wind from her lungs. She bit the fingers covering her mouth. A huge fist struck her across the jaw.

They finally seized her flailing arms.

There were too many.

Dear Richard, I love you.

Chapter 45

Kahlan struggled to draw a breath, but with the weight of men on her, she couldn’t. Tears stung her eyes. More men piled on. A beefy elbow in her middle pressed into her, feeling as if it would squash her in two. Drunken breath bathed her face.

Her vision dwindled to a small spot. Everything around the center was going black, and the center was shrinking. She swallowed a mouthful of blood. Her own.

She heard what sounded like the distant rumble of thunder. At first, she could only feel the vibration in her back against the ground, but then the sound swelled, growing louder, sharper. The screams of men reached her ears.

Some of the men over her looked up. Their weight lifted a bit, and she sucked air into her lungs. It was the sweetest breath she had ever drawn.

As the giant of a man atop her, the one who had struck her face, turned to the sound of thunder, turned his fierce eye from her, she saw that his other had a scar across it, and down his cheek. That empty eye was sewn shut. Somehow, her left hand squirmed free. She seized his throat.

She heard a metallic rattle. The thunder, she suddenly realized, was horses” hooves. Erupting out of the fog, Brin and Peter, atop Daisy and Pip, galloped at a full charge down the line of D’Harans, mowing them down with the chain. They raced toward her like a landslide felling trees. The men stared in frozen shock. Kahlan’s fingers clutched around the one-eyed man’s throat.

And then she released her power.

The magic slammed into him.

Thunder without sound rattled all the chain mail.