Faith of the Fallen (43 page)

“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.”

Kahlan let out an angry breath. It was all starting to make sense to her. “That’s why there have been so many false alarms. They were numbing us to them so that when they attacked, we would be unconcerned, falsely believing our own alarms were just another enemy false alarm.”

“I’m guessing you’re right.” He flexed his fist in frustration. He looked down then and noticed Cara scowling up at him. “Cara. Are you all right? I was so—I mean, we thought you might be badly hurt.”

“No,” she said, casting a cool glare at Verna and Kahlan, each of whom used a hand to hold her shoulders down. She casually crossed her ankles. “I just thought you could handle it, so I decided to take a nap.”

General Meiffert gave her a quick smile and then turned a serious face to Kahlan.

“It gets worse. This cavalry attack was a diversion. They hoped it might get you, I’m sure, but it was meant to make us believe it was just a raid.”

Kahlan felt her flesh go cold with dread. “They’re coming, aren’t they?”

He nodded. “The entire force. They’re still a distance out, but you’re right, they’re coming. This was just to throw us into confusion and keep us distracted.”

Kahlan stared, dumbfounded. The Order had never attacked at sunset before. The prospect of the onslaught of hundreds of thousands upon hundreds of thousands of Imperial Order troops storming in from the darkness was bloodcurdling.

“They’ve changed their tactics,” Kahlan whispered to herself. “He’s a quick study. I thought I’d tricked him, but I was the one who was taken in.”

“What are you mumbling about?” Cara asked, her fingers locked together over her stomach.

“Jagang. He counted on me not being fooled by those troops going around in a circle. He wanted me to think I had outsmarted him. He played me for a fool.”

Cara made a face. “What?”

Kahlan felt sick at the implications. She pressed a hand to her forehead as the awful truth inundated her.

“Jagang wanted me to think I had his scheme figured out, so we would pretend to play along and send out our troops. He probably figured they wouldn’t be sent after his decoy, but would be used instead against his real plan of attack. He didn’t care about that, though. All along, he was planning on changing his tactics. He was waiting only until those troops left so that he could attack before they were in place and while our numbers were reduced.”

“You mean,” Cara asked, “that whole time you were talking to him, pretending to believe he was moving troops north, he knew you were pretending?”

“I’m afraid so. He outsmarted me.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” General Meiffert said. “He hasn’t succeeded, yet. We don’t have to let him have it his way. We can move our forces before he can pounce.”

“Can’t we call back the men we sent out?” Verna asked. “Their numbers would help.”

“They’re hours away,” General Meiffert said, “traveling through back country on the way to their assigned locations. They would never get back here in time to help us tonight.”

Rather than dwell on how gullible she had been, Kahlan put her mind to the immediate problem. “We need to move fast.”

The general nodded his agreement. “We could fall back on our other plans—about breaking up and scattering into the mountains.”

He ran his fingers back through his blond hair. The gesture of frustration unexpectedly reminded Kahlan of Richard. “But if we do that, we would have to abandon most of our supplies. In winter, without supplies, a number of our men wouldn’t last long. Either way, killed in battle or dying of hunger and cold—you’re just as dead.”

“Broken up like that, we would be easy pickings,” Kahlan agreed. “That’s a last resort. It may work later, but not now. For now, we need to keep the army together if we’re to survive the winter—and if we’re to keep the Order distracted from its designs at conquest.”

“We dare not allow them to go uncontested into a city. It would not only be a bloodbath, but if they picked the right city, we would face a near impossible task of dislodging them.” The general shook his head. “It could end up being the end of our hopes of driving them back to the Old World.”

Kahlan gestured over her shoulder. “What about that valley we talked about, back there? The high pass is narrow—it can be defended on this side by two men and a dog, if need be.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” he said. “It keeps the army together—and keeps the Order having to contend with us, rather than being able to turn their attention on any cities. If they try to move around us up into the Midlands, there are easy northern routes out of the valley from which we can strike. We have more men on the way, and we can send for others; we need to stay together and maintain our engagement with the Order’s army until those forces arrive.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Verna asked. “Let’s get moving.”

He gave her a worried look. “The problem right now is that if we’re to make it into that valley before the Order can pounce on us, we’re going to need more time to do it. The pass is too narrow for wagons. The horses can make it, but not the wagons—they’ll have to be dismantled. Most of our equipment is designed to be knocked down so the parts can be portaged, if need be. We’ll have to leave a few that aren’t. It won’t take long to get started, but we’re going to need time to funnel all the men and supplies over that narrow pass—especially in the dark.”

“Torches will work well enough with a steady line of men,” Adie said. “They must only follow the one in front, and even if the light be bad, they can do it.”

Kahlan remembered the handprint made of glowing dust. “The gifted could lay down a glowing track to guide the men.”

“That would help,” the general said. “We’re still left with our basic problem, though. While our men are trying to break down and move all our equipment and supplies, and waiting their turn to go over the pass, the Order will arrive. We’ll find ourselves in a pitched battle trying to defend ourselves while withdrawing at the same time. A withdrawal requires the ability to move faster than the enemy, or at least keep him at bay while pulling back; the pass doesn’t provide that.”

“We’ve kept ahead of them before,” Verna said. “This isn’t the first attack.”

“You’re right.” He pointed to his left. “We could try to withdraw up this valley, instead, but in the dark and with the Order attacking, I think that would be a mistake. Darkness is the problem, this time. They’re going to keep coming. In daylight, we could establish defenses and hold them off—not at night.”

“We already have defenses set up, here,” Cara said. “We could stand where we are and fight them head-on.”

General Meiffert chewed his lower lip. “That was my first thought, Cara, and still an option, but I don’t like our chances in a head-on, direct confrontation like this, not at night when they can sneak great numbers of men in close. We couldn’t use our archers to advantage in the dark. We can’t see their numbers or movements accurately, so we wouldn’t be able to position our men properly. It’s a problem of numbers: theirs are almost unlimited, ours aren’t.

“We don’t have enough gifted to cover every possibility—and in war it’s always what you don’t cover that gets hit. The enemy could pour through a gap, get in behind us in the dark, without us even realizing it, and then we’re finished.”

Everyone was silent as the implications truly sank in.

“I agree,” Kahlan said. “The pass is the only chance we have to keep from losing a major battle tonight—along with a huge number of our men. The risk without real benefit of standing and fighting is a poor choice.”

The general appraised her eyes. “That still leaves us with the problem of how we’re going to get over that pass before they annihilate us.”

Kahlan turned to Verna. “We need you to slow the enemy down to give us the time we need to get our army over that pass.”

“What do you wish me to do?”

“Use your special glass.”

The general screwed up his face. “Her what?”

“A weapon of magic,” Cara said. “To blind the enemy troops.”

Verna looked thunderstruck. “But I’m not ready. We only made up a small batch. I’m not ready.”

Kahlan turned back to the general. “What did the scouts say about how much time we have until the Order is upon us?”

“The Order could be here within an hour, at the soonest, two at the latest. If we don’t slow them down, we’ll never make it out of this valley with our men and supplies. If we can’t find a way to delay them, we can only run for the hills, or stand and fight. Neither is a choice I would make except in desperation.”

“If we just run for the hills,” Adie said, “we be as good as dead. Together, we be alive and at least be a threat to the enemy. If we scatter, the Order will take the opportunity to attack and capture cities. If our only choice is to scatter, or stand our ground and fight, then we can only choose to stand and fight. Better to try, than to die one at a time out in the mountains.”

Kahlan rubbed her fingers across her brow as she tried to think. Jagang had changed his tactics and decided to engage them in a night battle. He had never done that before because it would be so costly for him, but with his numbers, he apparently wasn’t concerned about that. Jagang held life in little regard.

“If we have to fight him, in a full battle, here, now,” Kahlan said in resignation, “we will probably lose the war by dawn.”

“I agree,” the general finally said. “As far as I see it, we have no choice. We have to act quickly and get as many of our men over the pass as we can. We’ll lose all those who don’t get over before the Order arrives, but we’ll manage to preserve some.”

The four of them were silent a moment, each considering the horror of that reality, of who would remain behind to die. Furious activity continued around them. Men were rushing around, putting out fires, collecting panicked horses, tending to wounded, and battling the few remaining invaders they had trapped. The Order soldiers were greatly outnumbered. Not for long, though.

Kahlan’s mind raced. She couldn’t help being furious with herself at being gulled. Richard’s words echoed through her mind: think of the solution, not the problem. The solution was the only thing that mattered now.

Kahlan looked again to Verna. “We have an hour before they’re upon us. You have to try, Verna. Do you think you have any chance at making your special glass and then deploying it before the enemy is upon us?”

“I will do my best—you have my word on that. I wish I could promise more.” Verna scrambled to her feet. “I’ll need the Sisters who are tending the wounded, of course. What about the ones working at the front lines? The ones countering enemy magic? Can I have any of them?”

“Take them all,” Kahlan said. “If this doesn’t work, nothing else is going to matter.”

“I’ll take them all, then. Every one,” Verna said. “It’s the only chance we have.”

“You get started,” Adie told Verna. “Go down near the front lines, on this side of the valley where you will be upwind from the attack. I will begin collecting the Sisters and get them down there to help you.”

“We need glass,” Verna said to the general. “Any kind. At least a few barrels full.”

“I’ll have men down there with the first barrel right away. Can we at least help to break it up for you?”

“No. It won’t matter if what you throw in the barrels breaks, but beyond that, it must be done by the gifted. Just bring whatever glass you can collect, that will be all you can do.”

The general promised her he would see to it. Holding her hem up out of her way, Verna ran off to the task. Adie was close on her heels.

“I’ll get the men moving now,” the general told Kahlan as he scrambled to his feet. “The scouts can mark the trail; then we can start moving the heavier supplies first.”

If it worked, they would slip out of Jagang’s grasp.

Kahlan knew that if Verna failed, they could all very well lose their lives, and the war, by morning. General Meiffert paused with one last hesitant look, one last chance for her to change her mind.

“Do it,” she said to the general. “Cara—we have work.”

Kahlan pulled her horse up short. She felt the heat of blood rushing to her face.

“What are you doing?” Cara asked as Kahlan threw her leg over the horse’s neck and leaped to the ground.

The moon lit a layer of lacy clouds scudding past, giving a faint, serene illumination to the surrounding countryside. The thin layer of snow gathered the muted light of the moon to make it more luminous than it otherwise would be.

Kahlan pointed in the direction of the small figure she could just make out in the dim light. The skinny girl, surely not much past ten years, was standing at a barrel, ramming a metal rod down inside to smash the glass in the bottom. Kahlan handed the reins to Cara as soon as she had dismounted.

Kahlan stalked over to the Sisters working on the snowy ground. Running off in a haphazard line, to keep the wind at their backs, were over a hundred of the women, all focused intently on the work before them. Many had their cloaks tented around themselves and their work.

Not far down that line, Kahlan bent, put a hand under the Prelate’s arm, and lifted her to her feet. Mindful of the serious nature of the work going on, Kahlan at least kept her voice quiet, since she wasn’t able to make it congenial.

“Verna, what is Holly doing down here?”

Verna glanced over the heads of a dozen intervening Sisters kneeling before a long board, breeze at their backs, carefully griding glass chips with pestles in mortars. There being not nearly enough pestles and mortars, many of the women to the other side were using dished rocks and round stones to carefully crunch the glass chips. The concentration showed on each woman’s face. The accident that had blinded a Sister had happened when the wind had changed, and a gust had blown her work back up in her face. The same thing could happen again at any time, although, as darkness had settled in, the wind had at least died down to a steady breeze.

Holly was bundled in an oversized cloak. She had a determined grimace as she lifted the rod and then let it drop down in the barrel set away from the Sisters’ dangerous work. Kahlan saw that the rod had a faint greenish glow to it.

“She’s helping, Mother Confessor.”

“She’s a child!”

Verna pointed off into the darkness, to what Kahlan hadn’t seen. “So are Helen and Valery.”

Kahlan pinched the bridge of her nose between her first finger and thumb and took a purging breath. “What madness would possess you to have children down here near the front helping to—to blind people?”

Verna glanced at the women working nearby. She took Kahlan’s arm by the elbow and led her out of earshot of the others. Alone, where they were less likely to be heard, she folded her hands before herself as she assumed the stern visage that came so naturally to her.

“Kahlan, Holly may be a child, but she is a gifted child, and she is far from stupid besides. That goes for Helen and Valery as well. Holly has seen more in her young life than any child should see. She knows what’s going on tonight, with that attack, and with the attack that’s coming. She was terrified—all the children were.”

“So you bring her to the front—to the greatest danger?”

“What would you have me do? Send her back somewhere to be watched over by soldiers? Do you wish me to force her to be alone at a time like this so she could only tremble in terror?”

“But this is—”

“She’s gifted. Despite how horrific it seems, this is better for her, as it is for the others. She’s with the Sisters, who understand her and her ability as other people can’t. Don’t you recall the comfort you derived from being with older Confessors who knew the way you felt about things?”

Kahlan did, but said nothing.

“The Sisters are the only family she and the other novices have, now. Holly is not alone and afraid. She may still be afraid, but she’s doing something to help us, so that her fear is channeled into something that will assist in overcoming the cause of her fear.”

Kahlan’s brow was still set in a glare. “Verna, she’s a child.”

“And you had to kill a child today. I understand. But don’t let that terrible event make it harder on Holly. Yes, this is an awful thing she is helping to do, but this is the reality of the way things are. She could die tonight, along with the rest of us. Can you even imagine what those brutes would do to her, first? At least that much is beyond the imagination of her young mind. What she can comprehend, though, is fear enough.

“If she wanted to hide somewhere, I would have let her, but she has a right—if she so chooses—to contribute to saving herself. She is gifted and can use her power to do the simple part of what needs doing. She begged me to give her the chance to help.”

In anguish, Kahlan gathered her fur mantle at her throat as she glanced back over her shoulder at the little girl using both her spindly arms to lift the heavy steel rod and drop it again to break the glass in the bottom of the barrel. Holly’s features were drawn tight as she concentrated on using her gift while at the same time lifting the weight of the rod.

“Dear spirits,” Kahlan whispered to herself, “this is madness.”

Cara impatiently shifted her weight to her other foot. It wasn’t indifference to the situation, but a matter of priorities. Madness or not, there was little time left, and, as Verna said, they could all die before the night was finished. As cruel as it sounded, there were more important matters than the life of one child, or, for that matter, three.

“How is the work going? Are you going to be ready?”

Verna’s bold expression finally faltered. “I don’t know.” She lifted a hand hesitantly, motioning out over the dark valley before them. “The wind is right, but the valley approach to our forces is quite broad. It’s not that we won’t have some, it’s that we need to have enough so that when the enemy gets close, we can release the glass dust to float across the span of the entire field of battle.”

“But you have some. Surely, what you have will do damage to the enemy.”

“If there isn’t enough, then they may skirt it, or it may not be concentrated enough to do the damage necessary to bring their forces to a halt. Their attack will not be turned back by a small number of casualties.” Verna squeezed one fist in her other hand. “If the Creator will just slow the Imperial Order enough to grant us another hour, at the least, then I believe we may have enough.”

Kahlan wiped a hand across her face. That was asking a lot, but with the darkness, she thought that it just might be possible that the Order would have to go slow enough to give Verna and her Sisters the time they needed.

“And you’re sure we can’t help? There is nothing any but the gifted can do to assist you?”

Verna’s mask of authority again emerged in the moonlight.

“Well, yes, there is one thing.”

“What is it, then?”

“You could leave me alone so I can work.”

Kahlan sighed. “Just promise me one thing.” Verna raised an eyebrow as if willing to listen prudently. “When the attack comes, and you have to use this special glass, get the children out of here first? Get them to the rear, where they can be taken over the pass to safety.”

Verna smiled with relief. “We are of like minds in that, Mother Confessor.”

As Verna hurried back to her work, Kahlan and Cara returned along the line of Sisters, past the end to where Holly was preparing glass to supply those gifted women. Kahlan couldn’t help but to stop for a word.

“Holly, how are you getting along?”

When the girl rested the rod against the side of the barrel, Cara, absent any fondness for magic, aimed a suspicious frown at the faintly glowing metal. As Holly took her small hands from the metal, the greenish glow faded, as if a magical wick had been turned down.

“I’m fine, Mother Confessor. Except I’m cold. I’m getting terribly tired of being cold.”

Kahlan smiled warmly as she ran a gentle hand down the back of Holly’s fine hair. “As are we all.” Kahlan crouched down beside the girl. “When we get over into another valley, you can get warm by a nice fire.”

“That would be splendid.” She cast a furtive glance at her steel rod. “I have to get back to work, Mother Confessor.”

Kahlan couldn’t resist pulling the girl close and kissing her frigid cheek. Hesitant at first, the thin little arms surrendered to desperately encircle Kahlan’s neck.

“I’m so scared,” Holly whispered.

“Me too,” Kahlan whispered back as she squeezed the girl tight. “Me too.”

Holly straightened. “Really? You get scared, too, that those awful men will murder us?”

Kahlan nodded. “I get frightened, but I know we have a lot of good people who will keep us safe. Like you, they work as hard as they can so that we can all someday be safe, and not have to be scared anymore.”

The girl stuck her hands under her cloak to warm them. Her gaze sank to the ground at her feet. “I miss Ann, too.” She looked up again. “Is Ann safe?”

Kahlan groped for words of comfort. “I saw Ann not long ago, and she was fine. I don’t think you need worry for her.”

“She saved me. I love her and miss her so. Will she be with us, soon?”

Kahlan cupped the girl’s cheek. “I don’t know, Holly. She had important business she was taking care of. I’m sure, though, that we’ll see her again.”

Pleased with that news and seemingly relieved to know that she was not alone in her fears, Holly turned back to her work with renewed determination.

As Kahlan and Cara collected their horses, they heard a horse approaching at a gallop. Before she recognized the rider, Kahlan saw and recognized the black splotch on its rump. When he saw her waving, Zedd trotted Spider around to her. He slid down off the animal’s bare back.

“They’re coming,” the wizard announced without preamble.

Verna rushed up, having seen Zedd ride in. “It’s too soon! They weren’t supposed to be here this soon!”

He gaped at her in astonishment. “Bags, woman, shall I tell them that it would be rather inconvenient for them to attack right now and to please come back to kill us later?”

“You know what I mean,” she snapped. “We don’t have enough, yet.”

“How long till they get here?” Kahlan asked.

“Ten minutes.”

That thin sliver of time was the only bulwark between them and catastrophe. Kahlan felt as if her heart rose into her throat, recalling suddenly the forsaken feeling of being mobbed and beaten to death. Verna sputtered in wordless frustration, anger, and dread.

“Do you have any ready?” Zedd asked as calmly as if he were inquiring about dinner.

“Yes, of course,” she said. “But if they will be here that soon, we’ve not enough. Dear Creator, we don’t have nearly what we’ll need in order to drift it out all across the front. Too little is as good as none.”

“We’ve no choice, now.” Zedd gazed off into the darkness, perhaps seeing what only a wizard could see. His jaw was set in bitter disappointment. He spoke in a disembodied voice, a man going through the motions when he knew he had come to the end of his options, perhaps even his faith. “Start releasing what you have. We’ll just have to hope for the best. I have messengers with me; I’ll send word of the situation back to General Meiffert. He will need to know.”

To see Zedd seemly relinquish hope cast their fate in the most frightening light possible. Zedd was always the one who kept them focused and gave them courage, conviction, and confidence. He gathered up Spider’s reins in one hand and gripped her mane with the other.

“Wait,” Kahlan said.

He paused and looked back at her. His eyes were a window into an inner weariness. She couldn’t imagine all the struggles he had faced in his life, or even in the last few weeks. Kahlan ran through seemingly a thousand thoughts as she searched frantically for some way of turning away their grim fate.

Kahlan couldn’t let Zedd down. He had so often carried them; now he needed another shoulder to help endure the weight. She presented him a look of fierce determination before she turned to the Prelate.

“Verna, what if we didn’t release it in the way we planned? What if we didn’t simply let it drift out, hoping for the breeze to carry it where we need it?”

Verna opened her hands in a bewildered gesture. “What do you mean?”

“Won’t it take more of the glass—the amount you say you need—simply so that there is enough to let it drift all the way across the valley, and yet have enough to hang in the air, too?”

“Well…yes, of course, but—”

“What if,” Kahlan asked, “we released it in a line along the face of the front? Right where it was needed. Then it would take less, wouldn’t it?”

“Well I suppose.” Verna threw up her hands. “But I told you, we can’t use magic to help us or they will detect our conjuring and then they will shield for the glass as fast as we release it. It will be useless. Better to release what we have and hope for the best.”

Kahlan glanced out over the empty plain faintly lit by the placid clouds veiling the moon. There was nothing to be seen out in the valley. Soon, there would be. Soon, the virgin snow would be trampled by the boots of over a million men.

Only the sound of glass being crushed on stone and the thump of the steel rods in the barrels disturbed the quiet darkness. Soon, bloodcurdling battle cries would inundate the hush of the night.