Adie laid a gnarled hand on Kahlan’s shoulder.
“Kahlan,” Verna said in a gentle voice, “I can understand how you feel. Ann used me, too, and I didn’t understand why. I thought she used everyone for her own selfish purposes. For a time, I thought her a despicable person. You have every reason to believe as you do.”
“But I would be wrong, Verna? Is that what you were going to add? I’d not be so sure, were I you. You didn’t have to kill a little boy today.”
Verna nodded in sympathy but didn’t argue.
“Adie,” Kahlan asked, “do you think there would be anything you might be able to do for the woman who was accidentally blinded? Perhaps you could help her?”
Adie nodded. “That be a good idea. Verna, take me to her, and let me see what I can do.”
Kahlan cocked her head as the two women moved toward the tent opening. “Did you hear that?”
“The horn?” Verna asked.
“Yes. It sounds like alarm horns.”
Verna squinted in concentration. She turned her head to the side, listening attentively.
“Yes, it does sound like alarm horns,” she finally declared, “but it doesn’t have the right trace of magic through it. The enemy does that often—tries to get us to act based on false alarms. We’ve been having more and more lately.”
Kahlan frowned. “We have? Why?”
“Why…what?”
Kahlan stood. “If we know they’re false alarms, and they don’t work, then why would the Order increase the attempts? That makes no sense.”
Verna’s gaze roved about as as if searching in vain for an answer. “Well, I don’t know. I can’t imagine. I’m no expert in the tactics of warfare.”
Cara turned to go have a look. “Maybe it’s just some scouts coming back in.”
Kahlan turned her head, listening. She heard horses running, but that wasn’t so rare. It could be, as Cara suggested, scouts returning with reports. But, by the sound of the hooves, the horses sounded big.
She heard men yelling. The clash of steel rang out—along with cries of pain.
Kahlan drew her Galean royal sword as she started around the table. Before any of them could get more than a step, the tent shuddered violently as something crashed against its walls. For an instant, the whole thing tipped at an impossible angle; then steel-tipped lances burst through the canvas. With a rush of wind the tent collapsed around them.
The heavy canvas drove Kahlan to the ground as it caved in. She couldn’t get a grip on anything solid as the tent rolled her over and began dragging her along. Hooves thundered past, pounding the ground right beside her head.
She could smell lamp oil as it sloshed across the canvas. With a whoosh, the oil and the tent ignited. Kahlan coughed on the smoke. She could hear the crackle of flames. She could see nothing. She was trapped—rolled up in the bucking tent as it slid across the ground.
Chapter 37
Tightly shrouded in stiff canvas, Kahlan couldn’t see anything. She choked and gagged on the thick, acrid smoke burning her lungs. She pulled frantically at the canvas, trying to disentangle herself, but as she bounced and tumbled along the ground, she couldn’t make any headway gaining her liberty. The heat of flames close to her face ignited in her a sense of panic. Her weariness forgotten, she kicked and struggled madly as she gasped for air.
“Where are you!”
It was Cara’s voice. It sounded close, as if she, too, was being dragged along and strenuously engaged in her own fight for life. Cara was smart enough not to shout Kahlan’s name or title when surrounded by the enemy; hopefully, Verna knew better, as well.
“Here!” Kahlan shouted in answer to Cara.
Kahlan’s sword was trapped, pressed to her legs by the rolled canvas. She managed to wiggle her left hand up onto the knife at her belt. She yanked it free. She had to turn her face to try to keep away from the heat of the oily flames. The smothering smoky blindness was terrifying.
With angry resolve, Kahlan stabbed at the canvas, punching her knife through. Just then, the tent hit something and they were bounced into the air. The hard landing knocked the wind from her lungs. A gasp pulled in suffocating smoke. Again, Kahlan plunged her knife into the heavy canvas and slashed an opening as her entire shroud erupted into flame.
She yelled again to Cara. “I can’t get—”
The tent hit something solid. Her shoulder whacked hard into what felt like a tree stump and she was flipped up and over the top of it. Had she not been wearing her stiff leather armor, the blow surely would have broken her shoulder. Crashing down on the other side, Kahlan tumbled free and across the snow. She spread her arms to stop herself from rolling.
Kahlan saw General Meiffert reach up, seize a fistful of chain mail, and unhorse the man who had been dragging her tent. The man’s eyes gleamed from behind long, curly, greasy hair. His stout body was covered with hides and furs over chain mail and leather armor. He was missing his upper teeth. As he lunged at the general, he lost his head, too.
Yet more Order troops wheeled their big warhorses, striking down at the D’Harans scrambling both to escape the blows and to mount a defense. One of the warhorses charged Kahlan’s way, its rider leaning out, swinging a flail. Kahlan sheathed both her knife and sword. She snatched up the lance of the man who had been dragging the tent. She brought the long weapon up and spun around just in time to plant the butt end in a frozen rut and let the charging warhorse take the steel-tipped point in his chest.
As the grinning Order soldier with the flail leaped from the staggering horse, he drew his sword with his free hand. Kahlan didn’t wait; as he was still alighting on his feet, she spun while drawing her own sword and landed a solid backhanded blow across the left side of his face.
Without pause, she dove under the legs of another horse to dodge a blade when the horse’s rider slashed down at her. She sprang up on the other side and hacked the rider’s leg open to the bone twice before turning just in time to ram her sword up to its hilt into the chest of another horse sidling in, trying to crush her against the first. As the animal reared with a wild scream, Kahlan yanked her sword free and tumbled away just before the big horse crashed to the ground. The rider’s leg was trapped, and he was at an awkward angle to defend himself. Kahlan made the best of the opportunity.
For the moment, the immediate area was clear, enabling her to scramble over to the tent where the general was on his knees, yanking at the snarled mess of canvas and rope. More Order cavalry were thundering past, threatening to trample Verna, Adie, and Cara still trapped in the tangle of tent. At least the burning section had pulled away.
Kahlan worked beside General Meiffert to tug and cut the canvas. At last they ripped open the heavy material, freeing Adie and Verna. The two women were rolled up together, nearly in each another’s arms. Adie’s head was bleeding, but she pushed away Kahlan’s concerned hands. Verna emerged from the cocoon and stumbled to her feet, still dizzy from the wild ride.
Kahlan helped Adie up. The scrape on her brow didn’t look too serious. General Meiffert pulled frantically at the canvas. Cara was still inside, somewhere, but they no longer heard her.
Kahlan seized Verna by the arm. “I thought they were false alarms!”
“They were!” Verna insisted. “Obviously, they tricked us.”
All around, soldiers were engaged in pitched battle with Imperial Order cavalry. Men shouted in fury as they threw themselves into battle; some screamed as they were wounded or killed; others called out orders, commanding a defense, while the men on horseback ordered in their attack.
Some of the cavalry were setting fire to wagons, tents, and supplies. Others charged past, trampling men and tents. Pairs of riders teamed up to single out soldiers and take them down, then charged after another victim.
They were using the same tactics the D’Harans had used. They were doing what Kahlan had taught them to do.
When a soldier, draped in filthy fur and weapons, cried out in bravado as he rushed at
her wielding a raised mace studded with glistening bloody spikes, Kahlan took his hand off with a lightning-swift blow. He staggered to a stop and stared a her in surprise. Without missing a beat, she drove her sword into his gut and gave it a wrenching twist before pulling it free. She turned her attention elsewhere as he crashed down atop a fire. His screams melted in with all the others.