ill tell you what must be done。 I can give you only a day or two； we will help you begin the killing； and then we must be on our way。’
‘Mother Confessor； what of the wizard？’
Kahlan looked at him from under her eyebrows。 ‘You leave the wizard to me。 Do you understand？ He is mine。 I will handle it。’
‘All right。 What do you want us to do first？’
Kahlan walked between the captain and one of the lieutenants。 ‘The first thing you have to do is get me a horse。’
Chandalen leapt forward and gripped her arm； slowing her as he put his head close to hers。 His tone was angry with suspicion。 ‘Why do you want a horse？ Where are you going？’
She came to a halt； pulling her arm free。 She took in all six men。 ‘Do you have any idea what it is I’m about to do？ I’m about to choose sides。 I am the Mother Confessor。 If I choose sides； I choose sides for all the Midlands。 I mit all the Midlands to war。’ She met Chandalen’s eyes。 ‘I cannot do that on the word of these men。’
Chandalen erupted in fury。 ‘What more proof do you need！ You saw what they did back at that city！’
‘What I saw does not matter。 I must know why。 I cannot simply declare war。 I must know who these men are； for whom they fight。’ She had another reason to go； a more important reason； but she didn’t speak it。
They are killers！’
‘You’ve killed people。 Would you not want others to know the reason before they sought vengeance？’
‘You foolish woman！’ Prindin put a cautionary hand on Chandalen’s arm； attempting to bring a little prudence to Chandalen’s words。 Chandalen angrily wrenched his arm away。 ‘You say these men are foolish； and they have thousands。 You are one！ You have no chance to escape if they decide to kill you！’
‘I’m the Mother Confessor。 None may lay a weapon to me。’
She knew it was an absurd pretext； but she had to do this； and could think of no other justification to allay his fears。 Chandalen was too angry to speak。 He finally turned away with a growl。 She knew that in the past he would have been angry because if she were killed he couldn’t return home； she thought that perhaps now he was genuinely afraid for her。
She didn’t like the idea either； but had no choice。 She was the Mother Confessor。 She had a duty to the Midlands。
‘Lieutenant Hobson； please get me a horse。 A white or gray if you have one。’ He nodded and ran off to do as asked。 ‘Captain； I want you to get all your men together and tell them what’s happening。’
Chandalen stood with his back to her。 She stroked a hand down the white fur over his shoulder； over his father’s bone knife。 ‘You are fighting for the Midlands now； not just the Mud People。’ He let out an angry grunt。 ‘While I’m gone； I want you three to start explaining to these men what must be done。 I hope to be back before dawn。’
When she saw Hobson returning with the horse； her knees tried to buckle。 Dear spirits； what had she gotten herself into？
She turned to face Captain Ryan。 ‘If I’m 。。。 If anything 。。。’ She took a breath and started again。 ‘If I get lost and can’t find my way back； you’re to take your orders from Chandalen。 Do you understand？ You’re to do as he says。’
‘Yes； Mother Confessor；’ he said in a quiet tone as he put his fist to his heart in salute。 ‘May the good spirits be with you。’
‘From my experience； I’ll take a fast horse instead。’
Then you have your wish；’ Lieutenant Hobson said。 ‘Nick is fast； and he’s fierce。 He won’t let you down。’
The Captain cupped his hands； giving her a boost up onto the big warhorse。 She looked down at the men as she gave the gray an introductory pat on his neck。 Nick snorted and tossed his head。 Before she lost her nerve； she pulled the big stallion around and urged him toward the slopes； toward a trail that would circle her around to e into the enemy camp from the other side。
CHAPTER 38
The snow…crusted trees loomed all about her in the eerie light。 The moon would be down soon； but for the time being it gave the snow a luminescence that made the way easy to see。 As she trotted her horse into the open valley； she was almost glad to be free of the pressing trees that could hide anyone intent on ambush。 She made no attempt to conceal her approach； and the sentries saw her； but they made no move to stop a lone rider。
Ahead； the army’s camp was alive with fires； men； and noise。 As large as a small city； it could be spotted easily and heard from miles away。 Confident in their numbers； they feared no attack。
With the hood of her fur mantle pulled up and drawn close around her face； Kahlan walked Nick among the confusion of men； wagons； horses； mules； tents； gear； and roaring fires。 She sat tall on her horse； and above the din she could almost hear her heart thumping。 The strong aroma of roasting meat and woodsmoke filled the still air。 The snow had been trampled and packed flat by tens of thousands of feet； both man and beast； and by wagons of every sort。
Men were gathered around fires； drinking and eating and singing。 Pikes were stacked upright in circles； leaning in； with their heads all resting together in bristling cones。 Lances were everywhere； sticking up from snowbanks； looking like forests of stripped saplings。 Tents sprouted all about without any order to their layout。
Men roamed far and near； stumbling from one fire to another to try the food； to join in song around men with flutes； to gamble at dice； or to share the drink。 Sharing the drink seemed to be what occupied most of them。
No one paid any attention to her。 They seemed too preoccupied to notice her。 She kept her horse at a trot； and passed the ones who did stare up before they had a chance to wonder at； or confirm； what they had seen。 The whole place seemed to be in an uproar of activity。 Her warhorse didn’t so much as flinch at the pandemonium all about。
From some of the tents in the distance she heard the screams of women； followed by the raucous laughter of men。 Despite her attempt to stop it； a shiver ran down her spine。
Kahlan knew that armies like this one were acpanied by prostitutes who rode along in the supply wagons with other camp followers。 She also knew that armies like this one took women as part of their plunder； considering them a simple privilege of victory； much as taking a ring from a dead man； and worth little more。 Whatever the reasons for the screams； feigned delight or true terror； she knew she could do nothing about it； and so tried not to hear them； turning her attention instead to the men she passed。
At first she saw only D’Haran troops。 She knew their leather and mail and armored uniforms all too well。 Each of the breastplates bore an ornate； embossed letter R； for the House of Rahl。 Soon though； she was able to pick out Kel…tans among the D’Harans。 She saw one group of a dozen men from Westland； each with an arm around the next fellow’s shoulders as they danced in a circle and at the same time drank from mugs。 She saw men of other lands； too； a few from Nicobarese； some Sandarians； and to her horror； a handful of Galeans。 Maybe； she thought； they were simply D’Harans in the uniforms of men they had killed。 Somehow； she didn’t believe that。
Sporadic quarrels were going on throughout the camp。 Men argued over a lay of the dice； food； casks； or even bottles of drink。 Some of the disputes erupted into fights with fists and knives。 She saw one man stabbed in the gut； to the uproarious laughter of onlookers。
At last she spotted what she was looking for： the tents belonging to the manders。 Though they hadn’t bothered to put up their flags； she knew by their size what they were。 Outside the largest； a small table had been set up next to a roaring fire with spitted meat over it。 Lanterns on poles surrounded the group of men gathered there。
As she approached； a huge man who sat with his feet up on the table was yelling； ‘。。。 and I mean right now； or I’ll have your head！ A full one！ You bring a full cask or I’ll have your head on a pike！’ When the soldier scurried off； the table of men erupted in laughter。