The news of the Imperial Order reinforcements, just as the news of departure of the Galeans and Keltans, spread through the camp faster than a storm wind. Kahlan, Zedd, Warren, Verna, Adie, General Meiffert, and all the rest of the officers held nothing back from the men. Those men were risking their lives daily and had a right to the truth. If Kahlan was passing through the camp, and a soldier was brave enough to ask her, she told him what she knew. She tried to give them confidence, too, but she didn’t lie to them.
The men, having struggled for so long, were beyond fear. The bleak mood was a palpable pall smothering the spark of life out of them. They went about their tasks as if numb, accepting their fate, which now seemed sealed, resigned to the inevitable. The New World offered no shelter, no safe place, nowhere to hide from the boundless menace of the Imperial Order.
Kahlan showed the soldiers a determined face. She had no choice. Captain Ryan and his men, having been through such despair before, were less troubled by the news. They couldn’t die; they were already dead. Along with Kahlan, the young Galeans had long ago taken an oath of the dead, and could only be returned to life when the Order was destroyed.
None of it mattered much to Captain Zimmer and his men. They knew what needed to be done, and they simply kept at it. Each of them now had multiple strings of ears. They began new strings at one hundred. It was a matter of honor to them that they kept only the right ear, so no two ears could be from the same man.
Representative Theriault of Herjborgue was as good as his word. The white wool cloaks, hats, and mittens arrived weekly, helping hide the men who regularly went on missions, while the weather was in their favor, to attack the Imperial Order. With the sickness in the Order’s camp leaving so many of them weak, along with so many of the enemy having impaired vision, those missions were extraordinarily successful. Troops wearing the concealing cloaks were also sent to lie in wait and intercept any supply trains, hoping to neutralize the reinforcements before they could join with the enemy’s main force.
Still, the attacks were little more than an annoyance to the Order.
Kahlan, after a meeting with a group just returned, found Zedd alone in the lodge, looking over the latest information that had been added to the maps.
“Good fortune,” she said when he looked up, watching as she removed her fur mantle. “The men who just got in had few casualties, and they caught a large group out on patrol. They were able to cut them off and take them all out, including one of Jagang’s Sisters.”
“Then why the long face?”
She could only lift her hands in a forsaken gesture of futility.
“Try not to be so disheartened,” Zedd told her. “Despair is often war’s hand-maiden. I can’t tell you how many years it was, back when I was young, that everyone fighting for their lives in that war back then thought that it was only a matter of time until we were crushed. We went on to win.”
“I know, Zedd. I know.” Kahlan rubbed at the chill in her hands. She almost hated to say it, but she finally did. “Richard wouldn’t come to lead the army because he said that the way things stand now, we can’t win. He said whether or not we fight the Order, the world will fall under its shadow, and if we fight, it will only result in more death—that our side will be destroyed, the Order would still rule the world, and any chance for winning in the future would be lost.”
Zedd peered at her with one eye. “Then what are you doing here?”
“Richard said we can’t win, but, dear spirits, I can’t let myself believe that. I would rather die fighting to be free, to help keep my people free, than to live the death of a slave. Yet, I know I’m violating Richard’s wishes, his advice, and his orders. I gave him my word…. I feel as if I’m treading the quicksand of betrayal, and taking everyone with me.”
She searched his face for some sign that Richard might have been wrong. “You said that he had figured out the Wizard’s Sixth Rule on his own—that we must use our minds to see the reality of the way things are. I had hopes. I thought he had to be wrong about the futility of this war, but now…”
Zedd smiled to himself, as if finding fancy in something she saw as only horrifying.
“This is going to be a long war. It is far from beyond hope, much less decided. This is the agony of leadership in such a struggle—the doubts, the fears, the feelings of hopelessness. Those are feelings—not necessarily reality. Not yet. We have much yet to bring to bear.
“Richard said what he believed based on the way matters stood at the time he said them. Who is to say that the people are not now prepared to prove themselves to him? Prove themselves ready to reject the Order? Perhaps what Richard needed in order for him to commit to the battle, has already come about.”
“But I know how strongly he warned me against joining this battle. He meant what he said. Still… I don’t have Richard’s strength, the strength to turn my back and let it happen.” Kahlan gestured to her inkstand on the table. “I’ve sent letters asking that more troops be sent down here.”
He smiled again, as if to say that proved it could be done.
“It will take continual effort to grind down the enemy’s numbers. I think we have yet to deal the Order a truly serious blow, but we will. The Sisters and I will come up with something. You never know in matters of this kind. It could be that we will suddenly do something that will send them reeling.”
Kahlan smiled and rubbed his shoulder. “Thanks, Zedd. I’m so thankful to have you with us.” Her gaze wandered to Spirit, standing proudly above the hearth. She stepped over to the mantel, as if to an altar that held the sacred carving. “Dear spirits, I miss him.”
It was a question without the words, hoping he would surprise her with something that he had thought of to help get Richard back.
“I know, dear one. I miss him, too. He’s alive—that’s the most important thing.”
Kahlan could only nod.
Zedd clapped his hands together, as if taken with a gleeful thought. “What we need, more than anything, is something to get everyone’s mind off of the task at hand for a while. Something to give them a reason to cheer together for a while. It would do them more good than anything.”
Kahlan frowned over her shoulder. “Like what? You mean some kind of game, or something?”
His face was all screwed up in musing. “I don’t know. Something happy. Something to show them that the Order can’t stop us from living our lives. Can’t stop us from the enjoyment of life—of what life is really all about.” He stroked a thumb along the sharp line of his jaw. “Any ideas?”
“Well, I can’t really think of—”
Just then, Warren strode in. “Just got a report from over in the Drun Valley. Our lucky day—no activity, as we expected.”
He stopped dead in his tracks, his hand still holding the door lever, looking from Kahlan to Zedd and back again.
“What’s the matter? What’s going on? Why are you two looking at me like that?”
Verna came up behind Warren and gave him a shove into the lodge. “Go on, go on, get in there. Close the door. What’s the matter with you? It’s freezing out there.”
Verna huffed and shut the door herself. When she turned around and saw Zedd and Kahlan, she backed a step.
“Verna, Warren,” Zedd said in a honeyed voice, “come on in, won’t you?”
Verna scowled. “What are you two scheming and grinning at?”
“Well,” Zedd drawled as he winked at Kahlan, “the Mother Confessor and I were just discussing the big event.”
Verna’s scowl darkened as she leaned in. “What big event? I’ve heard nothing about any big event.”
Even Warren, rarely given to scowling, was scowling now. “That’s right. What big event?”
“Your wedding,” Zedd said.
Both Verna and Warren’s scowls evaporated as they straightened. They were overcome with surprised, silly, radiant grins.
“Really?” Warren asked.
“Really?” Verna asked.
“Yes, really,” Kahlan said.
Chapter 43