The young woman reminded Kahlan a little of the girl back at the White Horse Inn, the girl Kahlan had promised to protect, the girl that Sister Ulicia had so brutally murdered. At night, before she fell asleep, the memory of that girl’s terror still haunted Kahlan. Her failure to keep her promise of protection still burned in Kahlan’s soul. Even if the girl hadn’t been able to remember Kahlan’s words long enough to comprehend them, Kahlan hated that she had made such a promise and then failed to keep it.
This girl was a little older, a little taller. Kahlan could see in her eyes, too, a kind of quiet comprehension of the true dimension of the threat before her. There was a kind of knowing caution in her copper eyes. But she was still a girl. Womanhood was still a mystery that lay just over her life’s horizon.
Sister Armina suddenly smacked the girl. The blow spun her around, knocking her to the ground. The Sister pounced on her. The girl covered her head with her arms as she tried her best to get out an apology for asking for food. Sister Armina pawed at the girl’s clothes between striking her.
When the Sister rose she held a knife that Kahlan didn’t recognize. She waggled it in the lanternlight, then tossed it to the ground at Sister Ulicia’s feet. “She was carrying this. Like you said, she probably intended to cut our throats after we’d gone to sleep.”
“I intended no harm!” the girl cried out as Sister Ulicia raised her oak rod.
Kahlan knew all too well what was coming and dove over the frightened girl, covering her, protecting her.
Sister Ulicia’s rod came crashing down across Kahlan’s back instead, right over the spot where she had been hit earlier. The girl flinched at the crack of oak against bone. Kahlan cried out with the pain of the blow.
With all her effort she pushed the young woman farther away from the Sisters, trying to keep her protected from harm.
“Leave her be!” Kahlan yelled. “She’s just a child! She’s hungry, that’s all! She can’t hurt any of you!”
In the grip of panic, the girl’s spindly arms clung to Kahlan’s neck, as if it were the lone root hanging at the edge of a cliff. If Kahlan could have killed the Sisters right then, she would have, but instead she did no more than protectively shield the girl; she knew that if she tried to fight them, the Sisters would pull her away for retaliation and then she could be no protection at all. This was the most Kahlan could do for the girl.
Again, Sister Ulicia struck Kahlan across the back. Kahlan gritted her teeth against the pain. Again and again the woman landed blows with the rod.
“Let the brat go!” Sister Ulicia yelled as she beat Kahlan.
The girl panted in terror.
“It’s all right,” Kahlan managed between gasps for breath, “I’ll protect you. I promise.”
The young woman whispered back a “thank you” in Kahlan’s ear.
Besides her desperate desire to protect such an innocent child, Kahlan desperately didn’t want to lose this connection to the world. The girl knew that Kahlan existed. She could see her, hear her, remember her. Kahlan needed that lifeline back to the world of people.
Sister Ulicia took a stride closer as she swung away at Kahlan, putting all her muscle into the beating. Kahlan knew she was in grievous trouble, but she was not going to willingly allow them to harm this girl as they had the last one. The girl had done nothing to deserve what Kahlan knew they would do to her.
“How dare you—”
“If you wish to kill someone,” Kahlan yelled up at Sister Ulicia, “then kill me, but leave her be! She’s no threat to you.”
Sister Ulicia seemed content to do just that, growling with the effort of clubbing Kahlan, striking over and over in a frenzy. Kahlan was getting dizzy with the pain but she would not move to allow the Sister to get at the girl.
The young woman hid under the protection of Kahlan’s larger frame, crying out with fright, not at what the Sisters might do to her, but in anguish for what they were doing to Kahlan. The rod made a sickening
sound as it struck the back of Kahlan’s skull. It stunned her nearly senseless. Still, she would not let go of the young woman. Blood matted her hair and ran down her face.
And then the rod broke against Kahlan’s back. The larger piece spun out into the night. Sister Ulicia stood panting, in a blind rage, holding a useless stub. Kahlan expected to be killed, but in a way she no longer cared. There was no possibility of escape. There was no future for her. If she couldn’t fight for the life of an innocent young woman then life was of no value to her.
“Ulicia,” Armina whispered as she caught Ulicia’s wrist. “She sees Kahlan. Just like that man at the inn.”
Sister Ulicia stared at her companion, seemingly startled by the idea.
Sister Armina lifted an eyebrow. “We need to find out what’s going on.”
Sister Cecilia, a sinister glare twisting her features, not having heard what Sister Armina had said, stepped closer and stood over Kahlan. “How dare you defy a Sister? We’re going to skin this brat alive and make you watch the whole thing to teach you a lesson.”
“Sister?” The girl asked. “Are you all sisters?”
The night suddenly seemed impossibly quiet. Kahlan’s world spun sickeningly. Each breath felt like knives twisting between her ribs. Tears from the pain of the blows ran down her face. She couldn’t stop trembling, but still she would not abandon the girl.
Sister Ulicia tossed the end of the broken oak rod aside. “We are Sisters. What of it?” she asked, suspiciously.
“Tovi told me to watch for you, although you don’t look to me much like Tovi’s sisters.”
Everyone paused.
“Tovi?” Sister Ulicia cautiously asked.
The girl nodded. She peeked out past Kahlan’s shoulder. “She’s an older woman. She’s big, bigger than any of you, and she doesn’t really look like your sister, but she told me to go out and watch for her sisters. She said that the three of you had another woman with you.”
“And why would a girl like you agree to do as Tovi asked?”
The girl brushed her dark hair back from her face. She hesitated, then answered. “She is holding my grandfather captive. She said that if I didn’t do as she said, then she would kill him.”
Ulicia smiled the way Kahlan imagined a snake would smile, if a snake
could smile. “Well, well. I guess you really do know Tovi. Where is she, then?”
Kahlan pushed herself up on an arm. The girl pointed toward the headland. “There. She is in a place with old books. She made me show her where the books were kept. She told me to guide you to her.”
Sister Ulicia shared a look with the other two. “Perhaps she’s already located the central site in Caska.”
Sister Armina cackled with relief as she jovially clapped Sister Cecilia on the back of the shoulder. Sister Cecilia returned the gesture in kind.
“How far is it?” Sister Ulicia asked, suddenly eager.
“It will take all of two days, maybe three, if we leave at first light in the morning.”
Sister Ulicia peered off into the darkness for a moment. “Two or three days…” She turned back. “What’s your name?”
“Jillian.”
Sister Ulicia kicked Kahlan in the side, the unexpected blow rolling her off the girl. “Well, Jillian, you can have Kahlan’s bedroll. She won’t be needing it. She’s going to stand for the night as punishment.”
“Please,” Jillian said as she laid a hand on Kahlan’s arm, “if not for her, you would now be without a guide to the place where Tovi is. Please don’t punish her. She did you a favor.”
Sister Ulicia considered a moment. “I’ll tell you what, Jillian. Since you spoke up for our disobedient slave, I’ll let you make sure that she doesn’t sit down during the night. If she does disobey us, I will give her a beating that will leave her with a painful limp for the rest of her life. But you can prevent that by making sure she stands the entire night. What do you think of that?”
Jillian swallowed, but didn’t answer.
Sister Ulicia snatched Kahlan by the hair and hauled her to her feet. “Make sure she stays on her feet, or what we do to her will be your fault for not making sure that she did as she was told. Understand?”
Jillian, her copper-colored eyes wide, nodded.
Sister Ulicia smiled a sly smile. “Good.” She turned to the other two. “Come on. Let’s get some sleep.”
After they had gone, Kahlan gently laid a hand on the top of the head of the girl sitting at her feet.
“Glad to meet you, Jillian,” Kahlan whispered so that the Sisters wouldn’t hear.
Jillian smiled up at her, and whispered. “Thank you for protecting me. Your promise was true.” She gently took Kahlan’s hand and held it to her cheek for a moment. “You are the bravest person I’ve seen since Richard.”
“Richard?”
“Richard Rahl. He was here before. He saved my grandfather, before, but now…”
Jillian’s voice trailed off as she looked away from Kahlan’s gaze. Kahlan gently stroked the girl’s head, hoping to comfort her heartache for her grandfather. She gestured, pointing with her chin.
“Go in that saddlebag, there, Jillian, and get yourself something to eat.” She was trembling from the pain, and wanted very much to lie down, but Kahlan knew that Sister Ulicia had not made an empty threat. “Then if you would, please…just sit with me for the night? I could use a friend tonight.”
Jillian smiled up at her. It warmed Kahlan’s heart to see such a sincere smile.
“In the morning you will have another friend to join us.” When Kahlan twitched a frown, Jillian pointed up at the sky. “I have a raven, named Lokey. In the day he will come and entertain us with some of his tricks.”
Kahlan smiled at the very idea of having a raven for a friend.
The girl squeezed Kahlan’s hand. “I won’t leave you tonight, Kahlan. I promise.”
As much agony as she was in, as bleak as her future seemed, Kahlan was joyous. Jillian was alive. Kahlan had just won her first battle, and that accomplishment was exhilarating.
As he walked among the gathered soldiers, Richard acknowledged their greetings with a smile and a nod. He was in no mood to smile, but he feared that the men would misunderstand it if he didn’t. Their eyes were filled with expectation and hope as they watched him make his way among them. Many a man stood silently with a fist over his heart, not just in salute but in pride. Richard could not begin to explain to each of these men the horrific things Shota had shown him, and so he smiled as warmly as he was able.
Beyond the encampment, lightning flickered at the horizon. Even over the sounds of camp life, the thousands of men and horses, of the ring of blacksmiths’ hammers, the unloading of supplies, the provisions being distributed, the orders being shouted, Richard could hear the lightning’s ominous rumble rolling along the Azrith Plain. Angry thunderclouds gathered an ever-growing charge of black shadows under their skirts. The still, humid air was occasionally aroused by gusts that lifted flags and pennants to flapping attention. Almost as soon as it arrived, the wind would suddenly vanish, like an advance guard racing back to report to the gathering storm.
No one seemed to care about the threatening sky, though. They all wanted to get a glimpse of Richard as he made his way through the encampment. There was a time when this very army was bound and determined to kill or capture him. But that was before Richard had become the Lord Rahl.
Once he had taken on that responsibility, he had given these men the chance to stand for a worthy cause, rather than carry arms in service to tyranny. There had been some who had viewed that offer with open hatred. They turned instead to the cause of the Order and swept across the land with blind brutality, seeking to exterminate the very idea that any man had a right to his own life.
But the rest of them, most of them in fact, had not just taken up Richard’s challenge, they had embraced it with the kind of fervor that only men who had lived under repression could. These men, the first in
generations to be offered real freedom, truly grasped its meaning for their lives. They held on tenaciously to the chance to live in the kind of world Richard had shown them was possible. There was no greater nor more meaningful a gift these men could in turn give their families and loved ones than that chance to live life free, to live for themselves. Many had died in that noble effort.
Much the same as the Mord-Sith, these men followed him now because they chose to, not because they were forced to. When they called him “Lord Rahl” it had meaning to them that it had never carried before.
But these men now faced the edged steel that enforced a belief that said they and their loved ones had no right to their own lives. Richard did not doubt the hearts of these men, but he knew that they could not prevail in a battle against the vast numbers of Imperial Order invaders. This day of all days, he had to be the Lord Rahl. If there was to be a chance at a future worth living, Richard had to be the Lord Rahl in the purest sense, the Lord Rahl who cared about those he led. He had to make them see what he saw.
Verna, hurrying along beside him, tightened her grip on his arm as she leaned a little closer. “You can’t imagine how uplifting it is for these men to see you before the battle they will be facing, Richard, the battle that prophecy has been foretelling for thousands of years. You just can’t imagine.”
Richard doubted that the men could imagine what he was about to ask of them.
He glanced over at Verna’s smile. “I know, Prelate.”
Because they were steadily making headway south to meet the threat from the Imperial Order, the ride from the People’s Palace to catch up with them had taken considerably longer than the last time he had come to see these soldiers. Once the Order turned north up into D’Hara, this army was all that stood against them. These men were the last hope of the D’Haran Empire. That was their calling, their duty.
And Richard knew without doubt that they would lose that battle.
Richard’s task was to convince them of the certainty of their impending defeat and death.
Cara and Nicci, right behind him, were practically walking on his heels. He didn’t think they needed to be that close to protect him, but he also knew that neither woman would likely take his word for it. When he glanced back over his shoulder, Nicci gave him a tight smile.
He wondered what she would say once she heard what he was about to tell the soldiers. He supposed that she would understand. Of all those who would hear what he had to say, she was the one person he believed would understand. In fact, he was counting on it. Her understanding and support were sometimes all that kept him going. There were times when he had been ready to give up and Nicci had given him the strength to go on.
Richard knew that Cara, on the other hand, would welcome what he was about to say, if for entirely different reasons.
Although Cara looked as grim as ever, as if she might have to kill the entire army should they suddenly turn to treason and attack Richard, he could tell by the way her fingers worked at a seam of her red leather outfit that she was eager to at last see General Meiffert—Benjamin—again. Since the last time they had been with these men she was a little less reticent about letting her feelings for the handsome D’Haran general be known. Richard suspected that Nicci had something to do with that.
As overwhelmed as he felt about a world that seemed to be coming down around him, he was inwardly gratified that a Mord-Sith could ever come to have such feelings, and even more so that she would finally be willing to let them be known, at least to him. It was confirmation that, beyond the brutal training of these women, they were individuals who each had long-suppressed desires and aspirations that had not withered and died, and that the true person inside could again blossom. It was an affirmation of his belief in a better future, that there could be a better future, like finding a beautiful flower in a vast wasteland.
As Richard marched past rows of tents, wagons, picketed horses, blacksmith stations, and supply areas, he could see men approaching from all directions, abandoning their evening chores of caring for animals, repairing gear, tending to supplies, cooking, and setting up yet more tents. A glance to the thick overcast told him that they would be smart to at least finish setting up their tents.
Richard spotted General Meiffert among the sea of men in dark uniforms. He stood tall among officers outside a large command area. When Richard glanced back over his shoulder, he could see by Cara’s smile that she saw him as well.
The assembled officers and men of rank were too many to fit into a tent, so they had gathered among a scattered boulder field. Awnings had been strung together over the area, anchored to the massive boulders, so that
the men in the command center would be protected should the rain start. It didn’t look to Richard like it would protect them from any wind, but it would at least keep them mostly dry as they worked on the details of directing an army this large.
Richard leaned a little toward Verna as thunder shook the ground. “Your Sisters will be there?”
Verna nodded. “Yes. I sent runners to tell them that you wanted them there along with all the officers. There are a few on distant reconnaissance, but the rest will be there.”
“Lord Rahl,” General Meiffert said as he clapped a fist to his heart.
Richard bowed his head. “General. Glad to see you well. The men all look in order, as always.”
“Thank you, Lord Rahl.” His blue eyes were already taking in Cara. He bowed at the waist to her. “Mistress Cara.”
Cara actually smiled. “You are a happy sight for my eyes, Benjamin.”
Had Richard not been so distressed about the things that had brought him to be there, he would have derived great pleasure from seeing them gaze into each other’s eyes. Richard remembered looking at Kahlan that way, remembered his inner joy at seeing her.
Captain Zimmer, his shaped leather armor serving to accentuate his powerful build, stood not far behind the general. Some of the other officers, in similar if less simple uniforms, waited in a cluster nearby, while most were already assembled under the awning. The groups of men, engaged in earnest conversation, all fell quiet and turned to see Lord Rahl, the leader of the D’Haran Empire. Richard didn’t have time for pleasantries, so he dove right in. Likewise, the regular soldiers who had gathered all around stood silently watching.
“Are all the officers and men of rank here, General?” Richard asked.
The man nodded. “Yes, Lord Rahl. Every one of them in camp, anyway. There are some out on long-range patrol. Had we known of your arrival and wishes I would have recalled them, but as it is we would need some time to get them back here. If you wish, I will send word at once for them to return.”
Richard lifted a hand to forestall the suggestion. “No, that’s not necessary. As long as most of them are assembled that will do. The rest can be briefed later.”
There were far too many men in the encampment for Richard to be
heard and understood by them all. His intent was to speak in detail to the officers and men of rank, and then have them spread the word among their own men. There were enough officers gathered for that task.
The general, in a casual but clearly commanding manner, gestured to the men surrounding the command area, watching the great event. They immediately began to disperse, going back to their own work, while their commanders learned of their fate.
General Meiffert held out an arm, inviting Richard and his escort in under the shelter. Richard first glanced at the sky, judging the chances to be good that the rain would soon start in earnest. In under the expansive tarp, hundreds of men were gathered tightly together. Richard tapped his fist to his heart, returning the collective, muffled thump of their sharp salutes.
“I am here today,” Richard began as he scanned all the eyes watching him, “about the gravest of issues…the coming final battle with the advancing army of the Imperial Order.
“There must be no confusion about what I will have to say. I need every one of you to understand what is at stake, what I am going to ask of you, and why. This is about all of our lives; I will not hold back anything from you and I will answer honestly and to the best of my ability anything you want to know. Please feel free to ask your questions, voice your objections, or even to disagree with certain points as I lay out what I’ve decided. I value your vast collective knowledge and skill. I trust in your ability and experience.
“But I have had to weigh and consider matters outside your purview and on everything put together I have made my decision. I can appreciate that, absent such information, you many not entirely understand my reasoning, so I will do my best to explain it, but there will be no dissent about my conclusion.”
Richard’s voice took on an edge of absolute resolve. “You will follow my orders.”
The men all shared looks. This was as stern a command as any Richard had ever given them.
In the afternoon hush, Richard began to slowly pace back and forth, choosing his words carefully. He finally gestured out to the crowd before him.
“As officers, as men of command, what is it that preoccupies your minds the most?”
After a moment’s confused silence, an officer to the side spoke up. “I suppose that we’re all thinking about what you’ve already mentioned, Lord Rahl: the final battle.”
“That’s right, the final battle,” Richard said as he came to a halt and turned to the men. “That’s the common way we all think, that everything will come down to that defining moment, the climax of everyone’s effort, and that there will be a final, grand battle to decide it all—who wins, who loses, who rules, who serves, who lives, who dies. This is the way Jagang thinks as well.”
“He wouldn’t be their leader if he didn’t,” an older officer said.
Sporadic chuckles rippled through the assembled men.
“True enough,” Richard said in a solemn voice. “Especially in the case of Emperor Jagang. His objective is to carry his cause to that final battle and in that concluding contest crush us once and for all. He is a very intelligent foe. He has gotten us to focus on that final battle. His strategy is working.”
The laughter had died out. The men looked a little displeased that Richard would give the man so much credit. Soldiers like these didn’t like to grant their enemy too much mastery lest their own men suffer a failing of courage at fighting him.
Richard had no interest in making Jagang seem less of a threat than he was. Quite the opposite; he wanted to give these men an accurate glimpse of what they were up against, and the true dimensions of the menace.
“Jagang is a devotee of a game called Ja’La dh Jin.” Seeing some of the men nod, Richard knew that they had become at least somewhat familiar with the game. “He has his own Ja’La team, much like the Fellowship of Order has its own army. Jagang’s overriding concern, when he sends his team in to play, is to win at Ja’La. To that end he collected the biggest, toughest players for his team. He does not view it as a contest, a competition, as some do. He intends not merely to be victorious in any Ja’La match, but to overwhelm the opposition.
“Jagang’s team once lost. His solution was not to try harder the next time, to train and coach his players, to do better the next time. He instead went out and got other players. He created a team of the biggest, strongest, fastest men. The translation of Ja’La dh Jin, by the way, is ‘the game of life.’
“In the beginning, when he was joining all the various kingdoms and lands of the Old World into one nation, Jagang lost battles. He learned the
lessons of life. He got the biggest, meanest army he could and in the end he united the entire Old World under the banner of the Order. When he embarked on this war, at the behest of the Fellowship of Order, Jagang made sure that he would have at his disposal the resources necessary to insure that he would have a force large enough to do the job. You men would do no less.
“Jagang occasionally still lost battles. Again he learned. He responded by calling upon those resources to see to it that he had more men. That’s how he approaches the goal of winning the war on behalf of the Order. The result is that today he has a force so overwhelming that he can crush all opposition. He knows that he will win. So, he looks forward to the final battle.