Soul of the Fire (Sword of Truth 5)

“Jackals,” Du Chaillu said.

“Jackals,” Kahlan agreed.

Disturbed at hearing such a thing, Du Chaillu’s eyes turned down. “That makes it more horrible, then. I would rather think these people possessed by this man’s magic, or the Keeper himself, than to think they would follow such a beast of their own will.”

“You were going to say something?” Richard asked. “You said you wanted to say something. I’d like to hear it.”

Du Chaillu clasped her hands before herself. Her look of dismay was overcome by a yet graver expression.

“On our way here, we shadowed the army to see where they went. We also captured some of their men to be sure. This army travels very slowly.

“Their leader, each night, has his tents put up for him and his women. These tents are big enough to hold many people, and have many accommodations for his comfort. They also put up other tents for other important men. Each night is a feast. Their leader, Jagang, is like a great and wealthy king on a journey.

“They have wagons of women, some willing, some not. At night, all are passed around among the soldiers. This army is driven by lust for pleasure as well as conquest. They tend well to their pleasures as they go in search of conquest.

“They have much equipment. They have many extra horses. They have herds of meat on the hoof. Long trains of wagons carry food and other supplies of every kind. They have wagons with everything from flower mills to blacksmith forges. They bring tables and chairs, carpets, fine plates and glassware they pack in shavings in wooden boxes. Each night they unpack it all and make Jagang’s tents like a palace, surrounded by the houses of his important men.

“With their big tents and all the comforts they carry with them, it is almost like a city that travels.”

Du Chaillu glided the flat of her hand through the air. “This army moves like a slow river. It takes its time, but nothing stops it. It keeps coming. Every day a little more. A city, sliding across the land. They are many, and they are slow, but they come.

“I knew I must warn the Caharin, so we did not want to shadow these men any longer.” She turned the hand in the air, like dust stirring before a high wind. “We returned to our swift travel. The Baka Tau Mana can travel as swiftly on foot as men on running horses.”

Richard had traveled with her. It was a false boast, but not by much. He had once made her ride a horse; she thought it an evil beast.

“As we made swift journey northwest across this vast and open land to come here, we arrived unexpectedly at a great city with high walls.”

“That would be Renwold,” Kahlan said. “It’s the only big city in the wilds anywhere near your route here. It has the walls you describe.”

Du Chaillu nodded. “Renwold. We did not know its name.” Her intense gaze, like that of a queen with grave news, moved from Kahlan to Richard. “They had been visited by the army of this man, Jagang.”

Du Chaillu stared off, as if seeing it again. “I have never thought people could be that cruel to others. The Majendie, as much as we hated them, would not do such things as these men did to the people there.”

Tears welled in Du chaillu’s eyes, finally overflowing to run down her cheeks. “They butchered the people there. The old, the young, the babies. But not before they spent days—”

Du Chaillu’s sob broke loose. Kahlan put an understanding arm around the woman’s shoulder. Du Chaillu seemed suddenly a child in Kahlan’s embrace. A child who had seen too much.

“I know,” Kahlan soothed, near tears along with Du Chaillu. “I know. I, too, have been to a great walled city where men who follow Jagang had been. I know the things you’ve seen.

“I have walked among the dead inside the walls of Ebinissia. I have seen the slaughter at the hands of the Order. I have seen what these beasts first did to the living.”

Du Chaillu, the woman who led her people with grit and guts, who had faced with defiance and courage months of capture and the prospect of her imminent sacrifice, who watched her husbands die to fulfill the laws she kept, who willingly confronted death to help Richard destroy the Towers of Perdition in the hope of returning her people to their land, buried her face in Kahlan’s shoulder and wept like a child at recalling what she had seen in Renwold.

The blade masters turned away rather than see their spirit woman so heartsick. Chandalen and his hunters, waiting not far off for everyone to finish with their deliberations, also turned away.

Richard wouldn’t have thought anything could bring Du Chaillu to tears in front of others.

“There was a man there,” Du Chaillu said between sobs. “The only one we could find still alive.”

“How did he survive?” It sounded pretty far-fetched to Richard. “Did he say?”

“He was crazy. He wailed to the good spirits for his family. He cried endlessly for what he said was his folly, and asked the spirits to forgive him and return his loved ones.

“He carried the rotting head of a child. He talked to it, as if it were alive, begging its forgiveness.”

Kahlan’s face took on a saddened aspect. Slowly, with apparent reluctance, she said, “Did he have long white hair? A red coat, with gold braiding at the shoulders?”

“You know him?” Du Chaillu asked.

“Ambassador Seldon. He didn’t live through the attack—he wasn’t there when it came. He was in Aydindril.”

Kahlan looked up at Richard. “I asked him to join us. He refused, saying he believed the same as the assembly of seven, that his land of Mardovia would be vulnerable if they joined with one side or the other. He refused to join us or the Order, saying they believed neutrality was their safety.”

“What did you tell him?” Richard asked.

“Your words—your decree that there are no bystanders in this war. I told him that as Mother Confessor, I have decreed no mercy against the Order. I told Ambassador Seldon we were of one mind in this, you and I, and that his land was either with us, or stood against us, and that the Imperial Order would view it the same way.

“I tried to tell him what would happen. He wouldn’t listen. I begged him to consider the lives of his family. He said they were safe behind the walls of Renwold.”

“I wouldn’t wish that lesson on anyone,” Richard whispered.

Du chaillu sobbed anew. “I pray the head was not his own child. I wish I did not see it in my dreams.”

Richard’s touch was gentle on Du Chaillu’s arm. “We understand, Du Chaillu. The Order’s terror is a calculated means of demoralizing future victims, of intimidating them into surrender. This is why we fight these people.”

Du Chaillu looked up at him, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand as she sniffed back the tears.

“Then I ask you to go to this place the Order goes to. Or at least send someone to warn them. Have the people there flee before they are tortured and butchered like those we saw in this place, Renwold. These Ander people must be warned. They must flee.”

Her tears returned, accompanied by racking sobs. Richard watched as she wandered off into the grass to weep in private.

Richard felt Kahlan’s hand settle on his shoulder, and turned back. “This land, Anderith, hasn’t surrendered to us yet. They had representatives in Aydindril to hear our side of it, didn’t they? They know our position?”

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nbsp; “Yes,” Kahlan said. “Their representatives were warned the same as those of other lands. They were told of the threat and that we mean to stand against it.

“Anderith knows the alliance of the Midlands is a thing of the past, and we expect the surrender of their sovereignty to the D’Haran Empire.”

“D’Haran Empire.” The words seemed so harsh, so cold. Here he was, a woods guide, feeling like an impostor on some throne he wasn’t even sure existed except in title, responsible for an empire. “Not that long ago I was terrified of D’Hara. I feared they would have all the lands. Now that’s our only hope.”

Kahlan smiled at the irony. “Its name, D’Hara, is the only thing the same, Richard. Most people know you fight for people’s freedom, not their enslavement. Tyranny now wears the iron cloak of the Imperial Order.

“Anderith knows the terms, the same as we’ve given every land, that if they join us willingly they will be one people with us, entitled to the same equal and honest treatment as everyone and governed by fair and just laws we all obey. They know there are no exceptions. And they know the sanctions and consequences should they fail to join us.”

“Renwold was told the same,” he reminded her. “They didn’t believe us.”

“Not all are willing to face the truth. We can’t expect it, and must concern ourselves with those who share our conviction to fight for freedom. You can’t sacrifice good people, Richard, and risk a just cause, for those who will not see. To do that would be a betrayal to those with brave hearts who have joined us, and to whom you are responsible.”

“You’re right.” Richard released a pent-up sigh. He felt the same, but it was a comfort to hear it from her. “Does Anderith have a large army?”

“Well… yes,” Kahlan said. “But the real defense for Anderith is not their army. It’s a weapon called the Dominie Dirtch.”

While he thought the name sounded like High D’Haran, with everything else on his mind the translation didn’t immediately spring to mind.