ldren； but a war led by me … the Mother Confessor。 A woman。 War without quarter。’
She sat up straight in her saddle； letting his eyes linger on her breasts。 ‘I have a message； Karsh。 A message for the Keeper。 You will be with him presently。 Tell him I said to make plenty of room； I’m sending all his disciples home。’
Her gaze swept down the line of men holding the officers。 She drew her finger across her throat in a quick gesture。 The response was just as quick。
As the bodies tumbled forward； she cried out； her hand darting to her neck。 A stinging pain jolted her。 It was in the exact same place 。。。
It was the pain of Darken Rahl’s lips on her neck； the pain she had felt when he had e to them in the spirit house； when he had burned Richard with his hand。 When he had kissed her neck and silently promised her unimaginable horrors。
Men rushed forward。 ‘Mother Confessor！ What is it！’
She took her hand away。 Blood coated her white fingers。 She couldn’t say how she knew； but she knew without doubt that the blood was drawn by the perfect； snow white teeth of Darken Rahl。
‘Mother Confessor！ There’s blood on your neck！’
‘It’s nothing。 I’m all right。 I must have just been nicked by an arrow； that’s all。’ She gathered her wits and courage。 ‘Put the head of every officer on a pole； for all their men to see； to let them know they are without leaders。 And hurry。’
By the time the last dripping head was hoisted up； D’Ha…rans were pouring in from all sides。 Most were drunk； laughing as if it were nothing more than a drunken brawl。 But inefficient and clumsy as they were； their numbers were alarming。 They were like a swarm of bees； for every one knocked down； ten replaced him。
Her men fought fiercely； but they were no match for the overwhelming numbers sweeping in。 Men she had talked to； reassured； inspired； yelled at； and smiled to were falling with cries of pain and terror。 They had been here too long。
Ahead； a pitched battle erupted。 The Galeans were being driven back。 If they were driven back； they had no chance of escape。 They couldn’t go back the way they had e； back to men who would have had time to have been sobered by the carnage around them； to gather their senses； and their spirit。
Without surprise； they were nothing but a bunch of naked boys and one woman。 If they tried a second time what had worked once； they would all die。 They had to cleave their way through the Order； to the other side of the valley。 D’Harans hacked in at the white forms。 Her ankle was grasped by a powerful hand。 She hewed it off and shook her foot to shed the disembodied hand。
They were in danger of being swallowed into the belly of this beast。
Disregarding the death cries of her men； disregarding her promise not to leave the protective ring of the fiercest Galean swordsmen； disregarding her promise not to deliberately put herself into peril； Kahlan charged Nick into the thick of the battle； and beyond … into the enemy。
Her sword stabbed to each side； into any enemy close enough。 Teeth gritted； she swung at flesh and bone。 Her wrist tingled from the jarring impacts； and her arm was so weary she feared she would not be able to lift the sword much longer。
Frightened that she would be taken down； her men poured ahead； toward her； with renewed resolve。 They drove the dark wave back； rolling over it as she urged her horse forward into the sea of dark leather uniforms。
She stood in the stirrups； holding her sword high。 ‘For Ebinissia！ For her dead！ For her spirit！’
It had the desired effect。 Men of the Order who were confused by the white enemy； but were nonetheless determined to crush them； whatever they were； stopped and stared openly at a white； naked woman atop a horse suddenly in their midst。 Their faith； that the attack was from men and not spirits； faltered。 They gaped in open astonishment。 She swept her gaze around at all the eyes peering up at her。
She swung the white sword in a circle over her head as a breeze ruffled her white hair back off her shoulders。 ‘In the name of their spirits； I have e to avenge them！’
Leather…clad men fell to their knees； dropping their swords； pressing prayerful hands together。 They held those hands up to her。 They wailed for protection。 They called for her mercy。 They cried for forgiveness。 Had they been sober； she wondered； would the illusion be so convincing？ As it was； the effect was apocalyptic。
‘We grant no quarter！’
As all faces stared up toward her； as eyes shed tears of trepidation； weapons set upon them from behind。 The sudden； violent； merciless wave of hard steel terrified them； convinced them that the spirits would have them all。 They broke and ran； dropping weapons； screaming in fear of the underworld。
They had done what they had e to do。 Time was now against them。 They needed to escape。
They charged onward； a deadly； swift river of white that poured over and around the tents and fires and wagons and men； surprising ever more of the lethargic enemy； killing as many as they could while rolling ahead。 White death moved into the mist once again。
Kahlan glanced behind； and saw the pairs of draft horses； their riders holding the chains up between them。 She waved them into the stream of white； urging them to move faster。 They started unhooking one end of the chains from the hame hooks and looping the chain over the horn on the other horse； to give each horse freedom； now that they needed to make a quick escape。
In the distance； in the fog to the right； she saw a line of picketed horses。 She saw Brin and Peter e together； snap the end of the chain over the other hook again and urge Daisy and Pip into gallops。 She thought to scream at them； to order them to keep with the others； that they couldn’t hope to get them all； that they had done enough and must leave now； that it was too late。 But she knew they wouldn’t hear her。
Brin dropped the loops of chain。 They spread the horses to pull the steel taut as they peeled away toward the picket line of horses。 The hooves of the big horses thundered across the ground。 She took a last look at Brin and Peter； knowing it would be the last time she ever looked upon them in this world； and then turned her attention ahead。
She pointed with her sword。 ‘There are the rest of the supply wagons！’
The men knew what to do。 As she charged the column past； the wagons were doused with lamp oil。 Wheels were staved in； and torches thrown。 The wagons erupted in flame。 More torches set fire to tents。 The men brought awake by the noise and fire found blades sweeping at them。 The fires faded into an orange glow in the mist behind as they plunged onward into the fog。
Suddenly they broke free of the camp； and were in open snow。 Now that they were away from the camp； and its fires； the darkness pressed around them。 The men in front faltered； looking about as they jogged。
‘Scouts forward！’ she yelled。 ‘Where are the scouts！’
Two men charged through the ranks； to the fore； pointing out the direction of the pass they sought。 She looked for the others； turning from side to side。 None came。 She galloped Nick to the van； after the two scouts。
‘Where are the others！ They were ordered to be in the lead！’
The round； wet eyes that looked up at her answered her question without words。
‘All right；’ she said； ‘you two know the way。 Get us out of here。’
Fifty men had scouted the pass they wanted。 Fifty； to be sure there would be a good number left to show the way。 Two were left。
With a silent growl she cursed the spirits。 Shamefaced； she called the curse back。 They had at least left her those two； without them； they would be left to wander in the fog； freezing and vincible to the men of the Order chasing them。
She pulled Nick to a halt beside the stream of naked men。 She swooped her arm frantically。
‘Move move move！ Run； curse you； run！ They’ll be on top of us！’ The men on the draft horses； Brin and Peter not among them； came abreast of her。 ‘Drivers！ Watch for the scout ahead！ He’ll show you the stakes to follow。’