Faith of the Fallen

Chapter 43

It took more than two weeks to prepare for Verna and Warren’s wedding.

It wasn’t that it couldn’t have been done more quickly, but rather, as Zedd had explained to Kahlan, he wanted to “drag out the whole affair.” He wanted to give everyone ample time to ponder it and to dream up lavish doings; time to organize, to make decorations, to cook special foods, to get the camp ready for a grand party; time to have a stretch where everyone could gossip about it as they eagerly looked forward to the big event.

The soldiers, at first merely pleased, soon got caught up in the spirit of the occasion. It became a grand diversion.

They all liked Warren. He was the sort of man that everyone felt a little sorry for, a bit protective of—the awkward shy type. Most didn’t have the foggiest understanding of many of the things he babbled about. They thought that he just wasn’t the type who would ever win a woman. That he had, to them seemingly against all odds, gave the men an inner pride that he was one of theirs, and he had done it: he’d won a woman’s heart. It gave them hope that they might one day have a wedding, a wife, and a family, even if they were afraid that they, too, were often awkward and shy.

The men even openly expressed happiness for Verna. She was a woman they respected, but had never exactly felt warmly toward. Their bold well-wishes flummoxed her.

The entire camp was caught up in the spirit of the event even more than Kahlan had hoped. After a brief pause in the beginning, while it sank in, the men, so weary not only of fighting against such odds, the loss of friends, and being in the field away from their homes and loved ones for so long, but also the harsh, difficult, dreary weather, took to the diversion with gusto.

A large central area was cleared—tents moved, and the area cleaned of snow down to the bare ground. At the head of the cleared area, they built a platform—laid across anchored supply wagons—atop which the wedding was to take place. The platform was needed so that the men would have a better chance to see the ceremony. A dance area was set aside and those men with musical instruments, and not out on duty, spent night and day practicing. A choir was formed and went off to a secluded ravine to rehearse. Wherever Kahlan went, she could hear pipes and drums, or the piercing notes of a shawm, or the melodic chords of strings. Men came to fear playing off-key more than they feared the Imperial Order.

With over a hundred Sisters available, it was suggested that there could be dancing after the ceremony. The Sisters liked the idea, until they started doing the math and realized how many men there were to each woman, and how much dancing they would be doing. Still, they were titillated at the prospect of having attention lavished on them at a dance, and approved the idea. Women centuries old were blushing like girls again at all the requests from men in their teens and twenties for the promise of a turn with them at the wedding dance.

As the wedding approached the men made streets, of sorts, in a winding course through the camp, so that after the ceremony, the wedding party could pass in review through the entire camp. All the men wanted a chance to be a part in greeting the newly married couple and wishing them well.

Kahlan had the idea that, after the wedding, Warren and Verna should have the lodge. It was to be her wedding gift to them, so, for the most part, she kept it a secret. Kahlan had Cara direct the public pretense of having a tent set aside and reserved for the newly married couple. Cara moved Verna’s things in the tent, and freshened it up with herbs and frozen sprigs with wild berries. The diversion worked; Verna believed the tent was to be hers and Warren’s, and wouldn’t let him into it until after they were married.

The day of the wedding dawned with sparkling blue skies, and wasn’t so cold that people were likely to get frostbite. The fresh snow of the day before was quickly cleared out of the central area so that the festivities could take place without the Sisters getting snow down their boots as they danced. Some of the Sisters came out to inspect the dance floor, sauntering around, giving the men a look at who they might get to have a turn with—if they were lucky. It was all done with much humor and good cheer.

While Verna spent the early afternoon in her tent, submitting to having her hair fussed over, her face painted, and her wedding dress tended to by a gaggle of Sisters, Kahlan was finally able to have the secrecy she needed in order to decorate the lodge. Inside, she secured fragrant, feathery, balsam boughs to a cord and draped it in swags around the top of every wall. She tied red berries—as that was all she could come by—into the boughs to give them some color.

One of the Sisters had given Kahlan some plain weave fabric that Kahlan had made into a curtain for the window. She had worked on it when she retired to the lodge at night, stitching designs to give the simple material a lacy look. She kept it under her bed so that when they came in to go over battlefield strategy, Verna and Warren wouldn’t know what she was doing.

Kahlan was finally able to put the scented candles, donated by different Sisters as gifts, all around the room, and at last hang the curtain on a straight limb she stripped of bark.

The one thing Kahlan wouldn’t leave to brighten the lodge for the newly wedded couple was Spirit. That, she would take to her new tent.

As Kahlan was making up the bed with fresh bedding, Cara came in with an armload of something blue.

Kahlan folded the blanket under the foot of the straw-filled mattress as she watched Cara shut the door.

“What have you got there?”

“You won’t believe it,” Cara said with a grin. “Wide blue silk ribbon. The Sisters have Verna tied to a chair while they’re fussing over her, and Zedd has Warren off doing something, so I thought you and I could use the ribbon to decorate the place a little. Drape it around. Make it look pretty.” She pointed. “Like up there—we could wind it around the balsam you hung to give it a fancy look.”

Kahlan blinked in surprise. “What a good idea.”

She didn’t know what was more astonishing, actually seeing Cara with blue silk ribbon, or hearing her say “decorate” and “pretty” in the same breath. She smiled to herself, happy to have heard such a thing. Zedd was more of a wizard than he knew.

Kahlan and Cara each stood on a log round, working their way along the wall as they wove the ribbon through and around the swagged balsam boughs.

It was so beautiful seeing the first wall completed that Kahlan couldn’t stop gazing and grinning. They started in on the second wall, opposite the door, using extra ribbon for best effect when Verna and Warren first entered and saw their new place.

“Where did you ever get all this ribbon, away?” Kahlan asked around a mouthful of pins.

“Benjamin got it for me.” Cara chuckled as she threaded the ribbon around the cord. “Can you believe it? He made me promise not to ask him where he got it from.”

Kahlan took the pins from her mouth. “Who?”

“Who what?” Cara mumbled before she stuck her tongue out the corner of her mouth while wiggling a pin into a tight place.

“Who did you say got you the ribbon?”

Cara lifted another length of blue silk to the ceiling. “General Meiffert. I don’t have a clue where he—”

“You said Benjamin.”

Cara lowered the ribbon and stared at Kahlan. “No I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did. You said Benjamin.”

“I said General Meiffert. You only thought—”

“I never knew that General Meiffert’s first name was Benjamin.”

“Well . . .”

“Is ‘Benjamin’ General Meiffert’s first name?”

Had Cara been wearing her red leather, her face would have matched it.

As it was, her dark scowl matched the brown leather she had on.

“You know it is.”

A smile grew on Kahlan’s lips. “I do now.”

Kahlan wore her white Mother Confessor’s dress. She was a bit surprised to notice that it fit a little loosely, but all things considered, she supposed it was to be expected. Because of the cold, she also wore the wolf fur mantle Richard had made for her, but draped it around her shoulders more like a stole. She stood with her back straight and chin held high, overseeing the ceremony and gazing out at the tens of thousands of quiet faces. Behind her was a rich verdant wall of woven boughs that enabled distant spectators to more easily pick out the six people up on the platform. An ethereal mist of silent breath lifted in the still, golden, late-afternoon air.

As he conducted the wedding ceremony, Zedd’s back was to her. Kahlan was fascinated to see his wavy white hair, perpetually in disarray, now brushed and smoothed down. He wore his fine maroon robes with black sleeves and cowled shoulders. Silver brocade circled the cuffs, while gold brocade ran around the neck and down the front. A red satin belt set with a gold buckle gathered the outfit at his waist. Adie stood beside him, wearing her simple sorceress’s robes with their yellow and red beads at the neckline.

Somehow, the contrast looked as grand.

Verna wore a rich violet dress done up with gold stitching at the square neckline.

The intricate gold needlework ran down the tight sleeves showing under slashed sham sleeves tied at the elbow with gold ribbon. The delicate smocking over the midriff extending in a funnel shape down into a gored skirt flaring nearly to the floor. Verna’s wavy brown hair was festooned with blue, gold, and crimson flowers the sisters had made from little pieces of silk. With her serene smile, she made a beautiful sorceress bride standing beside the handsome blond groom in his violet wizard’s robes.

Everyone seemed to lean in a little as the ceremony reached the climax.

“Do you, Verna, take this wizard to be your husband for life,” Zedd went on in a clear tone that carried out over the crowd, “mindful of his gift and duty to it, and swear to both love and honor him without pause for as long as you live?”

“I do,” Verna said in a silken voice.

“Do you, Warren,” Adie said, her voice all the more raspy in contrast to Verna’s, “take this sorceress to be your wife for life, mindful of her gift and duty to it, and swear to both love and honor her without pause for as long as you live?”

“I do,” Warren said in a confident tone.

“Then, it being of your free will, I accept you, sorceress, as being agreeable and give my joyful blessing to this union.” Zedd raised outstretched arms up into the air. “I ask the good spirits to smile on this woman’s oath.”

“Then, it being of your free will, I accept you, wizard, as being agreeable and give my joyful blessing to this union.” Adie raised outstretched arms up into the air. “I ask the good spirits to smile on this man’s oath.”

The four of them crossed their arms and joined hands. With heads bowed, the air in the center of their circle glowed with a living light shining on the union. The brilliant flare sent a golden ray skyward, as if carrying the oath to the good spirits.

Together, Zedd and Adie said, “From this time forward, you are forever joined as husband and wife, both by oath, by love, and now by gift.”

The magical light dissolved from the bottom up until it was but a solitary star directly above them in an empty, late-afternoon sky.

In the silent winter air tens of thousands of spellbound eyes watched a trembling Verna meet Warren’s kiss to seal a wedding unlike any they were likely to ever see again: the marriage of a sorceress and a wizard, bound by more than any mere oath—bound also by a covenant of magic.

When Verna and Warren parted, both wearing broad smiles, the crowd went wild. Cheers, along with hats, rose into the air.

Both beaming, Verna and Warren joined hands after they turned to the soldiers. They waved with their free arms high in the air. Soldiers cheered, applauded, and whistled as if it were their own sister or best friend who was just married.

The voices of the choir then built in an extended note that reverberated through the trees all around. It made Kahlan’s skin tingle with the quality of its haunting tone. The sound brought a reverent hush to the valley.

Cara leaned close to Kahlan and whispered in astonishment that the choir was singing an ancient D’Haran wedding ceremonial song, the origin of which went back thousands of years. Since the men had gone off to practice alone, Kahlan hadn’t heard it before the wedding. It was so powerful it swept her emotions away with the rise and fall of the joined voices. Verna and Warren stood on the edge of the platform, likewise gripped by the achingly beautiful song to their union.

Flutes joined in, and then drums. The soldiers, mostly D’Haran, smiled as they listened to the music they knew well. It struck Kahlan then, since she had so long thought of D’Hara as an enemy land, that she had never really thought of D’Harans as having traditions that could be meaningful, or stirring, or beloved.

Kahlan glanced over at Cara, standing beside her, smiling distantly as she listened to the music. There was an entire land of D’Hara that was largely a mystery to Kahlan; she had only seen their soldiers. She knew nothing of their women—other than the Mord-Sith, and they were hardly typical—or their children, or their homes, or their customs. She had come to think of them as joined together at last, but she now realized that they were a people she didn’t know, a people with their own heritage.

“It’s beautiful,” Kahlan whispered to Cara.

Cara nodded blissfully, carried away on the strains of music that was an old acquaintance to her, and a exotic wonder to Kahlan.

As the choir came to the end of their tribute to the newly wedded couple, Verna reached back and squeezed Kahlan’s hand. It was an apology of sorts—an acknowledgment of how difficult this ceremony must be for Kahlan.

Refusing to let that hurt tarnish this joyous event, Kahlan beamed at Verna’s quick glance. She came forward, standing behind Warren and Verna with an arm around each. The noise of the crowd trailed off so Kahlan could speak.

“These two people belong together. Perhaps they always have. Now they forever shall be. May the good spirits be with them always.”

With one voice, the entire crowd repeated the prayer.

“I want to thank Verna and Warren from the bottom of my heart,” Kahlan said as she gazed out at the tens of thousands of faces watching, “for reminding us what life is really about. There is no more eloquent demonstration of the simple yet deep meaning of our cause than this wedding today.”

Heads as far as she could see bobbed in agreement.

“Now,” Kahlan called out, “who wants to see these two have the first dance?”

The men cheered and hooted as they spread back to open up the central area. Musicians lined up along the benches at the sides.

As they waited for Verna and Warren to make their way down to the dance area, Kahlan draped an arm over Zedd’s shoulder and kissed his cheek.

“This is the best idea you ever had, wizard.”

He took her in with hazel eyes that seemed to see all the way to a person’s soul.

“Are you all right, dear one? I know this has to be hard.”

Kahlan nodded, holding her grin firmly in place. “I’m fine. It has to be hard on you, twice over.”

A smile took him unexpectedly. “There you go again, Mother Confessor. Worrying about others.”

Kahlan watched a laughing Verna and Warren, arm in arm, dancing lightly across the open area ringed by applauding soldiers.

“When they’re done,” Kahlan asked, “and after you’ve given your first to Adie, would you dance with me, sir? Stand in for him? I’m sure he would want that.”

Kahlan couldn’t bring herself to say his name at that moment, or the spell of the joyful celebration would have been broken.

Zedd lifted an eyebrow with playful delight. “What makes you think I can dance?”

Kahlan laughed. “Because there isn’t anything you can’t do.”

“I be able to name a number of things this skinny old man can’t do,” Adie said with a smile as she shuffled up behind him.

When the dance was done, and others began joining in as the newly married couple began the second, Zedd and Adie went out in the ring to have a dance and show the young people how it was done. Kahlan stood at the edge of the circle with Cara close at her side. General Meiffert, laughing and shaking men’s hands, slapping others on the back, made his way over.

“Mother Confessor!” He was pushed up close by the press of the crowd. “Mother Confessor, this is a wonderful day, isn’t it? Have you ever seen the likes of it?”

Kahlan couldn’t help but to smile at his delight. “No, General Meiffert, I don’t think I have.”

He glanced briefly at Cara. He stood awkwardly a moment, then turned to watch the dancing. Despite how well the men had come to know her, Kahlan was still a Confessor—a woman people feared to be near, much less touch. No one was likely to ask a Confessor to dance.

Or a Mord-Sith.

“General?” Kahlan asked, tapping him on the back of his shoulder. “General, could you do me a great personal favor?”

“Well, of course, Mother Confessor,” he stammered. “Anything. What is it I can do?”

Kahlan gestured out at the dance area and the soldiers and Sisters ringing it. “Would you please dance? I know we’re supposed to be on guard for any mischief, but I think it would let the men see the true festive nature of this party, were their general to go out there and dance.”

“Dance?”

“Yes. Please?”

“But, I—that is, I don’t know who . . .”

“Oh, do please stop trying to get out of it.” Kahlan turned, as if suddenly struck with a thought. “Cara. Would you go out there with him and dance so his men will see that it’s all right to join in?”

Cara’s blue eyes shifted between Kahlan and the general. “Well, I don’t see how—”

“Do it for me? Please, Cara?” Kahlan turned back to the general. “I believe I heard someone mention that your given name is Benjamin?”

He scratched his temple. “That’s right, Mother Confessor.”

Kahlan turned back to Cara. “Cara, Benjamin, here, needs a—partner for a dance. How about you? Please? Do it for me?”

Cara cleared her throat. “Well, all right. For you, then, Mother Confessor.”

“And don’t break his ribs, or anything. We have need of his talents.”

Cara scowled back over her shoulder as a smiling Benjamin led her away.

Kahlan folded her arms and grinned as she watched the man take Cara in his arms. It was just about a perfect day. Just about.

Kahlan was watching Benjamin gracefully swirl Cara around, and other soldiers pulling suddenly shy Sisters out of the line at the edge of the dance area, when Captain Ryan stumbled up.

He straightened before her. “Mother Confessor . . . uh, well, we’ve been through a lot together and, if I’m not being too forward, could I ask you to . . . you know, dance?”

Kahlan blinked in surprise at the tall, young, broad Galean.

“Why, yes, Bradley, I would love to dance with you. I would love it. But only if you promise not to hold me like I’m made of glass. I don’t want to look foolish out there.”

He grinned and nodded. “All right.”

She placed one hand in his, and laid the other over his shoulder. He put his big hand to the side of her waist, under her open fur mantle, and twirled her out amid the merrymakers. Kahlan smiled and laughed as she endured it. She thought of Spirit, and willed herself to remember that kind of strength, and she was able to relax, and take the party for what it was, and not think about what was missing as another man held her in his arms, if timidly.

“Bradley, you’re a wonderful dancer.”

Pride shined in his eyes. She felt him loosen up, and let the music flow more smoothly through his movements. Kahlan caught sight of Cara and Benjamin, not far away, doing their best to dance and not look at each other. When he whirled her around him, his arm securely holding her waist, Cara’s long blond braid sailed out behind her. Then Kahlan actually saw Cara look up into Benjamin’s blue eyes and smile.

Kahlan was relieved when the song ended and Captain Ryan was replaced for the next dance by Zedd. She held him close as she moved to a slower tune with him.

“I’m proud of you, Mother Confessor. You gave a wonderful thing to these men.”

“And what is that?”

“Your heart.” He tilted his head. “See them watching you? You’ve given them courage. You’ve given them a reason to believe in what they’re doing.”

Kahlan lifted an eyebrow. “You trickster, you. You may fool others, but not me. It is you who has given me heart.”

Zedd only smiled. “You know, not since the very first Confessor has a man ever again figured out how to love such a woman without her power destroying him. I’m glad it was my grandson who accomplished such an exploit, and that it was for his love of you. I love you as a granddaughter, Kahlan, and look forward to the day when you are back with my grandson.”

Kahlan held Zedd close, resting her head against his shoulder, as they both danced on with their memories.

As the dancing went on, the golden setting sun was finally replaced by torches and warm fires. Sisters changed partners after each dance, and still there were jovial men lined up out of sight waiting a turn, and not just with the younger, more attractive Sisters. Cooks’ helpers set out simple fare on food tables, sampling some and joking with the soldiers as they went about their task. Between dances, Warren and Verna tried the variety of food from different tables.

Kahlan danced once more with Captain Ryan, and once more with Zedd, but then busied herself speaking to officers and soldiers alike so she wouldn’t have to dance with anyone, should anyone feel awkward about asking her, yet work up the nerve. She was more able to enjoy the festivities without having to dance.

As she was greeting a line of young officers, and they were telling her how much they appreciated the party, someone tapped Kahlan on the shoulder.

She turned to a smiling Warren.

“Mother Confessor, I would be honored were you to have a dance with me.”

Kahlan noticed Verna dancing with Zedd. This was one dance that would be different. “Warren, I would love to dance with the handsome groom.”

He moved smoothly with her, not at all haltingly as she had expected.

He seemed to be blissfully at peace, and not nervous about the crush of people or the men constantly clapping him on the back, or the joking remarks from some of the Sisters.

“Mother Confessor, I just wanted to thank you for making this the best day I’ve ever had.”

Kahlan smiled up into his young face, his ageless eyes. “Warren, thank you for agreeing to this big party. I know it’s not the sort of thing that fits you—”

“Oh, but it is. That’s just it. People used to call me the mole.”

“They did? Why?”

“Because I used to stay down in the vaults all the time studying the prophecies. It wasn’t just that I liked to study the books—I was afraid to come out.”

“But you finally did.”

He turned her in time with the sweep of music. “Richard brought me out.”

“He did? I never knew that.”

“In a way, you’ve helped add to what he started.” Warren smiled distantly. “I just wanted to thank you. I know how much I miss him, and how much Verna misses him. I know the men miss their Lord Rahl.”

Kahlan was only able to nod.

“And I know how much you miss your husband. That’s why I wanted to thank you—for giving us this, and the gift of your grace, despite your heartache. Everyone here feels it with you. Please know that while you miss him, you are not alone, and are among those who love him too.”

Kahlan smiled, and managed to get out a “Thank you.”

As they danced across the open area, laughing at the merry tune and the awkward steps of some of the soldiers, the music abruptly trailed off.

It was then that she heard the horns.

Alarm swept through the assembled soldiers, as men ran for their weapons, until one of the sentries sprinted in, waving his arm, calling out for everyone to stand down, that it was friendly forces.

Puzzled, Kahlan stretched her neck along with everyone else, trying to see. They had no forces out. She had let them all be present to enjoy the wedding party.

The crowd parted as horses trotted through the throng. Kahlan’s eyebrows went up, and her jaw dropped. The distinguished General Baldwin, commander of all Keltish forces, was at the fore, riding a handsome chestnut gelding. He brought the horse to a smart halt. He ran his first finger along the length of his white-flecked dark mustache as he took in the crowd gathered in around him. His graying black hair grew down over his ears, and his pate shone through on top. He was a striking figure in his serge cape fastened on one shoulder with two buttons, allowing it to show the rich green silk lining. His tan surcoat was decorated with a heraldic emblem slashed through with a diagonal black line dividing a yellow and blue shield. The man’s high boots were rolled down below his knees. Long black gauntlets, their flared cuffs lying over the front, were tucked behind a wide belt set with an ornate buckle.

The press of men made way for Kahlan to step through. “General!”

He lifted a hand in his noble manner, a smile spreading wide. “Mother Confessor, how good to see you.”

Kahlan started to speak, but horses charged through, the crowd falling back for them. They stormed into the dance area like a wind-borne fire—a dozen Mord-Sith in red leather. One of the women leaped from her horse.

“Rikka!” Cara called out.

The woman’s bold glare swept over the gathered people. She finally settled her gaze, taking in Cara. Cara moved out of General Meiffert’s arms.

“Cara,” she said as way of greeting. She glanced around. “Where is Hania?”

Cara stepped closer. “Hania? She’s not here.”

The woman pressed her lips together in bitter disappointment. “I thought as much. When I never received word back, I feared we had lost her. Still, I was hoping . . .”

Kahlan stepped forward, a little miffed that the woman saw fit to step in front of General Baldwin. “Rikka, is it?”

“Ah,” Rikka said, a knowing smile stealing onto her face, “You could be none other than Lord Rahl’s wife—the Mother Confessor. I recognize the description.” The woman saluted casually with a fist to her heart. “Yes, I am Rikka.”

“I’m glad to have you here, and your sisters of the Agiel.”

“I came from Aydindril as soon as Berdine received your letter. It explained a lot. She and I discussed it, and decided I should come with some of my sisters to help in our effort. I left six sister Mord-Sith with Berdine to watch over Aydindril and the Wizard’s Keep. I also brought twenty thousand troops.” She lifted a thumb, pointing with it behind her. “We met up with the general, here, a week back.”

“We can certainly use your help. That was wise of Berdine—I know how eager she was to come herself, but she knows the city and the Keep. I’m glad she followed my instructions.” Kahlan settled her most unsettling Mother-Confessor-gaze on Rikka. “Now, if you don’t mind, you interrupted General Baldwin.”

Cara shoved Rikka, pushing her back out of the way. “We need to talk, Rikka, before you’re up to the task of serving Lord Rahl and his wife, who just happens to be a sister of the Agiel.”

Rikka lifted and eyebrow in surprise. “Really? How could—”

“Later,” Cara said with a smile before Rikka could get herself into any more trouble, moving the woman and her sister Mord-Sith back. Zedd, Adie, and Verna eased closer to Kahlan.

General Baldwin, now off his horse, stepped forward at last and went to a knee in a bow. “My queen, Mother Confessor.”

“Rise, my child,” Kahlan said in formal answer as the camp looked on with the same rapt attention they had devoted to the wedding. This had important bearing on them, too.

The general rose to his feet. “I came as soon as I received your letter, Mother Confessor.”

“How many men did you bring?”

He looked surprised by the question. “Why . . . all of them. One hundred seventy thousand men. When my queen asks for an army, I bring her one.”

Whispers spread through the men as they passed word back.

Kahlan was stunned. She no longer even felt the cold. “That’s wonderful, General. They are sorely needed. We have a real fight on our hands, as I explained in my letter. The Imperial Order is getting reinforcements all the time. We need to cut those lines.”

“I understand. With the D’Harans from Aydindril come with us, we can just about triple the size of your force down here.”

“And we can still bring more in from D’Hara,” General Meiffert said.

Kahlan felt the hot spark of faith in their chances swelling within her breast. “By spring, for sure, we will need them.” She cocked her head at General Baldwin. “What about Lieutenant Leiden?”

“Who? Oh, you must mean Sergeant Leiden. He only has a scout patrol, now. When a man deserts his queen, he’s lucky to keep his head, but he acted to protect her people, so I sent him to guard some remote pass. I hope the man dresses warmly.”

Kahlan wanted to throw her arms around the dashing General Baldwin.

Instead, she touched her fingers to his arm in a gesture of her gratitude.

“Thank you, General. We surely need the men.”

“Well, they’re up country a little ways, half a day back. Couldn’t fit them all in here with your army.”

“That’s fine.” Kahlan waggled her fingers, calling the Mord-Sith forward. “I’m very glad to see you, too, Rikka. With Mord-Sith, we can better handle the enemy gifted. We may even be able to turn the tide. Cara, here, has helped eliminate some of the gifted already, but I’m afraid that Lord Rahl has her under orders to protect me. She will continue in that capacity. But you will be free to go after their gifted.”

Rikka bowed. “Love to.” She came up and smiled. “Berdine warned me about her,” she said under her breath to Cara.

“You should listen to Berdine,” Cara said, clapping her on the back. “Come, I’ll help you find some quarters—”

“No,” Kahlan said, stopping them in their tracks. “This is a party. The general, Rikka, and her sisters are invited. In fact, I insist.”

“Well,” Rikka said, brightening, “as long as we’re protecting Lord Rahl’s wife, we would be only to happy to stay.”

Kahlan took Rikka’s arm and pulled her close. “Rikka, we have a lot of men here, and few women. This is a dance. Get out there and dance.”

“What! Are you out of your—”

Kahlan shoved her out into the dance area. She snapped her fingers at the musicians. “Shall we resume?” She turned to General Baldwin. “General, you have come at a wonderful time, a time of celebration. Please, would you dance with me?”

“Mother Confessor?”

“I am your queen, also. Generals dance with queens, do they not?”

He smiled and offered his arm. “Of course they do, my queen.”

Long after it was dark, the wedding procession made its way through the makeshift streets, greeting all the men. Thousands of soldiers congratulated Warren and Verna on their marriage, offered jesting advice, a gentle slap on the back, or just a merry wave.

Kahlan recalled a time when the Midlands feared these men. Under Darken Rahl, they were a formidable invader; inspiring dread and terror. She was amazed at how civil these men could be, how human, when given a chance. It was Richard, really, who had given them that chance. She knew that many of them understood that, and appreciated it.

When finally they reached the end of the long winding walk through the sprawling camp, they came at last to the tent Verna and Warren thought was to be theirs. Those following along bid the couple a good night and wandered back to the party, leaving the three of them alone.

Rather than let Verna and Warren slow, Kahlan stepped between them, took each under an arm, and guided them onto the path among the towering trees. Moonlight through the boughs cast wavering patterns on the snow. Not knowing what she was up to, neither Verna nor Warren protested as Kahlan kept them moving.

Finally, Kahlan spotted the lodge off through the trees. She stopped a little distance away to let them see the candlelight coming from behind the lace-like curtain. The juxtaposition against life in an army camp made it looked all the more romantic.

“This is a long and difficult struggle,” Kahlan told them. “Starting a marriage under these conditions is a harsh burden. I can’t tell you how happy I am that you two chose to go forward with it at a time like this. It means a great deal to all of us. We’re all very happy for you. More than anything, I would like to thank you both for choosing life in all its glory.

“We will one day have to move on, as surely the Order will move again when spring comes, if not before. But for now, I want this place to be yours. I can give you at least this much, this little piece of a normal life together.”

Verna unexpectedly burst into tears and buried her face in Kahlan’s shoulder. Kahlan patted the Prelate’s heaving back, chuckling at how out of character it was for Verna to show such emotion.

“Not a good idea, Verna, to let your new husband see you cry just as he’s about to take you to his bed.”

That did it, and Verna laughed, too. She gripped Kahlan’s shoulders as she searched her eyes.

“I don’t know what to say.”

Kahlan kissed her cheek. “Love each another, be good to each other, and treasure being together—that’s what I would like more than anything.”

Warren hugged her, whispering his thanks in her ear. Kahlan watched as he led Verna the remaining distance to the lodge. At the door, both turned and waved. At the last moment, Warren swept Verna off her feet. Her lilting laugh drifted among the trees as he carried her through the doorway.

Alone, Kahlan turned back to the camp.