“I’d bet on Kelton joining with the Order,” Ahern said. Everyone turned his way. He shrugged. “I’m Keltish. I can tell you that they’ll go where the Crown goes; its the way of our people. With Fyren dead, then that would make Duchess Lumholtz next in line. She and her husband, the duke, will go to the side they think will win, no matter who that may be. At least that’s my opinion from what I’ve heard about her.”
“That’s foolish!” Harold threw his spoon down. “As much as I don’t trust Keltans—no offense intended, Ahern—and know their scheming ways, at the heart of it, they’re Midlanders. They may want to grab whatever scrap of a farm lies on a disputed border and call it Keltish, but the people are still Midlanders.
“The spirits know that Cyrilla and I had our fights, but when it came to trouble, we stood together. Same with our lands; when D’Hara attacked last summer, we fought to protect Kelton, despite some of our disagreements. If it means the future of the Midlands, they’ll go with us. The Midlands means more than what anyone come new to the crown has to say about it.” Harold snatched up his spoon and waved it at Ahern. “What have you to say about that?”
Ahern shrugged. “Nothing, I guess.”
Zedd’s eyes moved between the two men. “We are not here to argue. We are here to fight a war. Speak what you believe, Ahern. You are Keltish, and would know more of it than we.”
Ahern scratched his windburned face as he thought on Zedd’s words. “General Baldwin, the commander of all Keltish forces, and his generals, Bradford, Cutter, and Emerson, will go where the Crown goes. I don’t know the men, I’m just a driver, but I go a lot of places and I hear a lot of talk, and that’s what’s always said of them. People have a joke that if the queen tossed her crown out the window and it caught on a buck’s antlers, the whole of the army would be grazin’ on grass within a month.”
“And from the talk you hear, do you really believe this duchess become queen will go with the Order just for a chance at power, if it means breaking with the Midlands?” Zedd asked.
Ahern shrugged. “It’s just my opinion, understand, but I think it would be so.”
As Kahlan spooned out a sweet root without looking up, she spoke. “Ahern’s right. I know Cathryn Lumholtz, and her husband, the duke. She will be queen, and even though she takes counsel from her husband, she is of like mind anyway. Prince Fyren would have been king, and I thought he would have stuck with us no matter what, but someone from the Order won him to their side, and he betrayed us. I’m sure the Order will make Cathryn Lumholtz similar offers. She will see power in those offers.”
Harold reached across the table and snatched up some more bread. “If she does, and Ahern’s right, then we’ve lost Kelton. If we’ve lost Kelton, then we’ve got the first crack of ruin.”
“This not be good,” Adie observed. “Nicobarese be in trouble, Galea be weakened when so many of her army be killed in Ebinissia, and Kelton be leaning toward the Order, and with her will go a number of lands that be trade partners.”
“And then there are some of the others who when—”
“Enough.” The quiet, clear ring of authority in Kahlan’s voice lowered a pall of silence over the table. She remembered what Richard always said when they were in more trouble than they knew how to wiggle out of: think of the solution, not the problem. If your mind was filled only with thoughts of why you were going to lose, then you couldn’t think of how to win.
“Stop telling me why we can’t bring the Midlands back together, and why we can’t win. We already know there are problems. We need to discuss the solutions.”
Zedd smiled over his spoon. “Well put, Mother Confessor. I think we must have some ideas. For one, there are a number of smaller lands that will remain loyal to the Midlands no matter what. We must gather their representatives in Ebinissia, and begin rebuilding the council.”
“That’s right,” Kahlan said. “They might not be as powerful as Kelton, but there is a quality to numbers that has influence.”
Kahlan opened her fur mantle. The crackling fire was warming the room a bit and the food was warming her belly, but it was worry that was beginning to make her sweat. She couldn’t wait for Richard to join them; he would have ideas. Richard never sat around letting events dictate as they would. She watched the others as they bent over their bowls, each with a frown as they pondered their options.
“Well,” Adie said as she set her spoon down, “I be sure we could get some sorceresses from Nicobarese to join with us. They would be a powerful aid. While some would refuse to fight, as it be against their convictions, they would not be averse to helping in other ways. None want to see the Blood, or their allies, the Imperial Order, take the Midlands. Most know the terror of times past, and would not want them to come anew.”
“Good,” Kahlan said. “That’s good. Do you think you could go there and convince them to join with us, maybe get some of the regular army to help, too? After all, the civil war is a part of the larger war, and it would not be going on if at least some didn’t want to aid the Midlands.”
Adie’s completely white eyes regarded Kahlan for a moment. “For something this important, of course I will try.”
Kahlan nodded. “Thank you, Adie.” She looked to the others. “What else? Any ideas?”
Harold rested an elbow on the table as he frowned in thought. He waggled his spoon. “I think if I sent some officers, as an official delegation, to some of the smaller lands, they could be convinced to send representatives to Ebinissia. Most hold Galea in high regard, and know how the Midlands has protected their freedom. They will come to our aid.”
“And perhaps,” Zedd said with a sly smile, “if I went to visit this Queen Lumholtz, as First Wizard, mind you, I could convince her that the Midlands is not without power of its own.”
Kahlan knew Cathryn Lumholtz, but she didn’t want to douse the warm hope of Zedd’s idea. She was the one, after all, who had said they needed to think of solutions instead of the problems.
What held her in the grip of terror, was the thought of being the Mother Confessor who lost the Midlands.
When dinner was finished, Prince Harold and Captain Ryan went to see to the men. Ahern threw his longcoat around his broad shoulders and said he had to check on his team.
After they were gone, Zedd caught Jebra’s arm as she went about helping Kahlan collect the bowls.
“Do you want to tell me, now, what it is you’re seeing every time you look my way?”
Jebra turned her blue eyes from his gaze and gathered another spoon into her hand with the others. “It’s nothing.”
“I would like to be the judge of that, if you don’t mind.”
She halted, and at last looked up at him. “Wings.”
Zedd lifted an eyebrow. “Wings?”
She nodded. “I see you with wings. You see? It makes no sense. It has to be a vision that means nothing. I told you, I get those kind sometimes.”
“That’s it? Just wings?”
Jebra fussed with her short, sandy hair. “Well, you are up in the air, with these wings, and you are dropped into a huge ball of flame.” The fine wrinkles at the corners of her eyes deepened. “Wizard Zorander, I don’t know what it means. It’s not an event—you know how my visions work sometimes—but a sense of events. I don’t know what they mean, all jumbled together like that.”
Zedd released her arm. “Thank you, Jebra. If you learn anything else, you will tell me?” She nodded. “And at once. We need all the help we can get.”
Her eyes sought the floor as she nodded again. Her head tilted toward Kahlan. “Circles. I see the Mother Confessor running around in circles.”
“Circles?” Kahlan asked as she stepped closer. “Why am I running in circles?”
“I can’t tell.”
“Well, I feel as if I’m running in circles right now, trying to find a way to pull the Midlands back together.”
Jebra looked up hopefully. “That may be it.”
Kahlan offered her a s
mile. “Maybe it is. Your visions aren’t always of calamity.”
As they all started to go back to cleaning up, Jebra spoke again. “Mother Confessor, we mustn’t leave your sister alone with any ropes.”
“What do you mean?”
Jebra let out a breath. “She is dreaming of hanging herself.”
“You mean that you have seen a vision of her hanging herself?”
Jebra laid a concerned hand to Kahlan’s arm. “Oh no, Mother Confessor, I’ve not seen that. It’s just that I can see the aura, see that she is dreaming of doing it. It does not mean she will, only that we must watch her, so she won’t have the chance before she can recover.”
“That sounds like sound advice,” Zedd offered.
Jebra tied the leftover bread in a cloth. “I will sleep with her tonight.”
“Thank you,” Kahlan said. “Why don’t you let me finish cleaning up, and you go to bed now, in case she wakes.”
Zedd, Adie, and Kahlan shared the chores after Jebra took her bedroll into the room with Cyrilla. When they were finished, Zedd placed a chair before the fire for Adie. Kahlan loosely twined her fingers together and stood looking into the flames.
“Zedd, when we send the delegations to the smaller lands to ask them to come to a council in Ebinissia, it would be easier to convince them if it were an official delegation from the Mother Confessor.”