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"Besides," Verna said, offering a smile, "we will be denying the Imperial Order the people, and that is what they are really after. The rest is just stone and wood. What matters stone and wood, if the people are safe?"
Kahlan, despite her desolate tears, was overcome with a smile. "You're right, Verna. That really is all that matters. Thank you for reminding me."
"Don't worry, Mother Confessor," Cara said, "Berdine and the rest of the MordSith, along with the troops, will watch over the people and see them safely to D'Hara."
Kahlan's smile widened. "I wish I could see Jagang's face when he finally gets here next spring to be greeted by ghosts."
The season of war was drawing to an end. If the summer with Richard in their mountain home had been a wonderful dream, then the summer of endless warfare had been a nightmare.
The fighting had been desperate, intense, and bloody. There were times when Kahlan thought she and the army could not go on, that they were finished. Each of those times, they had managed to pull through. There were occasions when she almost welcomed death, just to have the nightmare end, just to stop seeing people in agony and pain, to stop seeing all the precious lives in ruins.
Against the seemingly indomitable millions of the Imperial Order, the forces of the D'Haran Empire had managed to slow the enemy enough to keep them from taking Aydindril this year. With thousands of lives lost in the fighting, they had bought the hundreds of thousands of people of Aydindril and other cities that lay along the path of the Order the time they needed to escape.
As autumn had turned bitter, the immense force of the Imperial Order had reached a broad valley at a convergence of the Kern River and a large tributary, where the lay of the land provided space to accommodate their entire force. With winter closing in, Jagang knew better than to be caught unprepared. They had dug in while they had the opportunity. The D'Haran forces had set up their defensive lines to the north, bulwarking the way to Aydindril.
Just as Warren had forecast, Aydindril was more than Jagang's army could take in this season of war. Jagang, once again, had proven his prudent patience; he had chosen to preserve the viability of his army so he would be able to press on successfully when conditions allowed. In the short run, it gave Kahlan and her forces breathing room, but in the long run, it would spell their doom.
Kahlan felt sweet relief that Warren's prediction, of Aydindril falling the following year, at least would not be at the cost of a slaughter of the city's citizens. She didn't know what hardships the people would have to endure escaping to D'Hara, but it was better than the certain slavery and widespread death of remaining behind in Aydindril.
Some people, she knew, would refuse to leave. In cities along the Order's march up the Midlands, some people put their faith in "Jagang the Just." Some people believed that the good spirits, or the Creator, would watch over them no matter what. Kahlan knew they couldn't save everyone from themselves. Those who wished to live, and were willing to see reason, stood a chance. Those who saw only what they wished to see, would, at the least, fall under the pall of the Order's domination.
Kahlan reached back and touched the hilt of the Sword of Truth sticking up behind her shoulder. It was comforting, sometimes, to touch it. The Confessors' Palace was no longer her home. Home was wherever Richard and she were together.
The fighting was often so intense, the fear so palpable, that there were timesdays at a stretch-when she never thought of him. Sometimes, she had to devote all her physical and mental effort to just staying alive one more day.
Some men, feeling the war was hopeless, had deserted. Kahlan could understand the way they felt. All they ever did, it seemed, was to fight for their lives against overwhelming odds as they backed their way up through the Midlands.
Galea had fallen. That there was no word from any city in Galea probably said it all.
They had lost Kelton, too. Many of the Keltans in Winstead, Penverro, and other cities had fled, first. Most of Kelton's army were still with them, though some had rushed home in desperation.
Kahlan tried not to think too long on everything that had gone wrong, lest she give up. They had saved a good many people-gotten them out of the way of the Order. At least for the time being. It was the best they could do.
Along the long retreat north, tens of thousands of their joint forces had lost their lives in the fierce battles. The Order had lost many times that number. In the high summer heat, the Order had lost a quarter million men to fever alone. It made little difference; they continued to grow and to roll onward.
Kahlan recalled the things Richard had told her, that they could not win, that the New World was going to fall to the Order, and if they resisted, it would only cause greater bloodshed. She was reluctantly coming to understand that hopeless outlook.
She feared she was only getting people killed to no good end. Yet giving up still was out of the question for her.
Kahlan looked over her shoulder, past the long column of men escorting her, past the trees and up the mountain, to the great dark mass of the Wizard's Keep looming up on the mountain overlooking Aydindril.
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Zedd would have to go there; they could not stop the Imperial Order from having Aydindril, but they dared not let them have the Keep.
It was dusk, ten days later, when Kahlan and her company rode back into the D'Haran camp. It was obvious from the first instant that something was wrong. Men were ru
"I wonder what this is all about," Verna said with a scowl. "I'll not like it if Jagang spoils my di
Kahlan, not wearing her leather armor, suddenly felt naked. It was uncomfortable to wear on long rides, so, going through friendly territory, she had tied it to her saddle. Cara moved close as they dismounted. They handed the reins to soldiers as men closed in protectively.
Kahlan couldn't remember what color cloth would be used to mark the command tents. She had lost track of the exact number of days she had been gone. It had been somewhat over a month. She took the arm of an officer among the men who had swept in around her.
"Where are the commanders?"
He pointed with his sword. "Down that way, Mother Confessor."
"Do you know what's going on?"
"No, Mother Confessor. The alarm sounded. As a Sister rushed past, I heard her say it was genuine."
"Do you know where my Sisters, or Warren, are?" Verna asked the officer.
"I've seen Sisters ru
Darkness was settling in, leaving only the fires to guide them through camp. Most of the fires, though, had been doused at the alarm, so the camp was becoming a black maze.
Horses with D'Haran riders flashed past, headed out on patrol. Foot soldiers raced out of camp to scout. No one seemed to know what the threat was, but that wasn't unusual. Besides being frequent and varied, attacks were usually confusing, in addition to being frightening.
It was over an hour before Kahlan, Cara, Verna, and their heavy ring of guards made it through the sprawling camp that was the size of a city, to the officers' tents. None of the officers were there.
"This is a foolish way to go about it," Kahlan muttered. She found her tent, with Spirit standing on the little table, and tossed her saddlebags inside, along with her armor. "Let's just wait here so people can find us."