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Kahlan stared off at a fire。 ‘Some drunk threw something at me。 It cut my lip。 That wounded soldier I was bringing in bled to death on my horse； and on me。’ Her eyes drifted among the young faces around fires。 ‘I wish I could have done half as well they。 They were magnificent。’
He grunted suspiciously。 ‘I’m just relieved to see you。’
‘Is everything else in order？ The archers； the cavalry？ We must make the best use of our opportunity while they’re drunk and sick with the poison。 We must make the most of this weather； too。 We can’t let up for a moment。 One lightning strike after another。 No engagement。 Glancing attacks； always from a different place。’
‘They all know their jobs； and are waiting their turn。 The archers should be finished soon； then the cavalry； then the pikemen。 We’re ready for their sentries； when they send them out。 Our men will sleep in turns； but from now on； the Imperial Order will get no sleep。’
‘Good。 These men need rest。 In the morning； it will be their turn again。’ She lifted a finger to the captain。 ‘Remember the most important thing。’ She quoted her father； ‘‘The weapon that most readily conquers reason is terror and violence。’ Don’t forget that。 It’s the tool they use； and now we must turn it on them。’
Prindin came back into the firelight。 ‘Mother Confessor。 My brother and I made you a shelter； while we waited for your return。 We have your clothes there； and hot water； so you may wash yourself if you wish。’
She tried not to show how eager she was to wash off the reek of war。 ‘Thank you； Prindin。’
He held his arm out； showing her the way to the small clearing。 The brothers had built a roomy shelter of balsam boughs covered over with snow。 She crawled through the low opening to find candles inside。 The snowy ground was covered with a mat of boughs； too； giving the shelter the pleasant aroma of balsam。 A steaming bucket of water had just been set next to hot rocks placed in the center。 She warmed her fingers over the rocks。
The brothers had made her a warm and snug home for the night。 She could have wept at their thoughtfulness。
Her pack was there； and her clothes folded in a neat pile。 Kahlan took off her necklace； the one Adie had given her； the one with the round bone。 It was …the only thing she had worn into battle。 She clutched it to her cheek a moment before she washed it。 It reminded her of the one her mother had given her。
She dunked her whole head in the bucket； washed her hair； and then methodically washed the rest of herself。 It was only a sponge bath； but it still felt wonderful to wash off the blood； and the feel of the hands。 She had to force herself to think of other things as she washed； to keep from being sick。 She thought of Richard； thought of his boyish smile that never failed to make her grin； thought of his gray eyes that could look right into her。 When she finished washing； she lay down； drying her hair on the rocks。
She desperately needed sleep。 She still hadn’t recovered her Confessor’s power since using it on the one…eyed man； Orsk。 She could feel the emptiness in the pit of her stomach； a hollow where the power belonged。 It would be a while longer until it was restored。 She wouldn’t be able to shake the sick； dizzy exhaustion； though； until she had sleep。
She longed to lie down in her bedroll and sleep。 It had been so long； and she was so sleepy。 But she couldn’t。 Not yet。
She put the necklace back over her head and then laboriously pulled on her clothes。 From her pack she recovered an unguent and spread it on her cut lip。 When she replaced it； she saw the bone knife Chandalen had given her； and tied it around her arm again。
She was so tired she could hardly force herself up； but she had something to do before she slept； she had to be with her men。 She wouldn’t let them think she didn’t hold their interest highest in her heart。 They had offered their lives； the least she could do was show her appreciation； on behalf of the Midlands。
Clean； her long hair full and shiny once more； and dressed at last in layers of warm clothes and her mantle； she wound her way among the campfires。 She listened with serious attention to the babbling stories of some； and the quiet； brief words of others。 She spoke with all who had questions； gave smiles of reassurance； and let them all know how proud she was of what they had done。 She knelt by the wounded； checking to see if they were warm enough； and laid a hand to their cheeks； giving fort； and wishing them good health and quick healing。 She； too； felt relief when they were calmed by her touch。
At a fire surrounded by ten silent soldiers； one young man was trembling； but she didn’t think it was from the cold。
‘How are you doing？ Are you all right？ Are you getting warm？’
Her presence surprised and brightened him。 ‘Yes； Mother Confessor。’ A racking shiver rattled his teeth。 ‘I never thought it would be like that。’ He posed himself； and indicated the others。 ‘These are my friends。 Six didn’t e back。’
She held her mantle closed with one hand and brushed the hair back off his forehead with the other。 ‘I’m sorry。 I； too； grieve for them。 I just wanted you men to know that you made me proud。 You were as brave as any soldiers I’ve ever seen。’
He chuckled nervously。 ‘We’d all be dead if it wasn’t for you。 We were being driven back； hacked to pieces； and then you charged right into the enemy； all by yourself。 They all turned their attention to you； and then； while they were confused； we counterattacked。 What you did saved us。’
He shook his head。 ‘I wish I had killed half as many men tonight as I saw you kill。’ They all nodded their earnest agreement。 He brushed trembling fingers across his face。 Thank you； Mother Confessor。 If it weren’t for what you did； we would all be dead； too。’ He gave her a twitch of a smile。 ‘If I had the choice； I’d choose to follow you into battle over Prince Harold himself。’
‘Pretty good with a sword； is she？’
She started at the voice。 The soldier turned to see Captain Ryan standing behind her。
‘I th