Stone of Tears

Chapter 37

The bloodred light of day’s death oozed through the bones of trees lining the spine of the next ridge. Her green-eyed gaze left the well-hidden places where outposts of sentries were stationed. They were too far apart, she noted, or she would not be standing unnoticed where she was. She tallied the men in rank upon rank of tents marching up the valley floor below. Five thousand would be generous, she concluded.

Horses were picketed to her left, near supply wagons all neatly lined up. To the far side of the valley, latrines had been dug in the snow. Cook wagons stationed between the men and the supply wagons were packing up for the night. Colorful battle flags flew over the command tents. It was probably the most orderly army she had ever seen afield. Galeans did have a penchant for order.

“They look very nice,” Chandalen said in a quiet voice, “for men about to be slaughtered.” The two brothers gave nervous chuckles of agreement.

Kahlan nodded absently. That morning, they had seen the army these men were chasing. They were not neat. They were not orderly. They were not pretty. And their sentries were not stationed too far apart. Still, Chandalen and the two brothers had managed to get her close enough to see what she had wanted to see, and to take a tally.

She had guessed their numbers at fifty thousand. And that was not being generous.

She let out a long breath, its thin, white cloud drifting away in the cold air. “I have to stop this.” She hiked her pack and bow up on her back. “Let’s get down there.”

Chandalen, Prindin, and Tossidin followed behind as she slogged down the hillside of fluffy snow. It had taken her longer than she had hoped to catch these men. A blizzard high in Jara Pass had left the four of them holed up in the shelter of a wayward pine for two days. Wayward pines always reminded Kahlan of Richard, and as she had lain in her fur mantle, listening to the howl of the wind, she had dreamed of him while she slept, and while she was awake.

She was furious that she had to lose valuable time on the way to Aydindril to stop this army from their suicide pursuit—of the forces that had destroyed Ebinissia, but as the Mother Confessor she couldn’t allow nearly five thousand men to die to no purpose. She had to stop them before they got close to the army that had plundered Ebinissia. They were too close now. They would surely make contact by the next day.

The army sprang to alert as the four figures in white wolf-pelt mantles marched toward them. Shouts erupted, and were repeated back through the ranks. Tent flaps were flung open and men poured out. Swords were drawn, sending the ring of steel into the cold, twilight air. Men with spears came running through the snow. Men with bows took up positions, nocking arrows. A wall of several hundred men put themselves between her and the command tents. More were coming at a run, pulling on clothes, shouting to others still in their tents.

Kahlan and the three men with her came to a halt. She stood tall and still. Behind her, Chandalen, Prindin, and Tossidin leaned lazily on their spears.

A man of rank tumbled out of the largest tent as he pulled on a heavy, brown coat. He made his way through the wall of men, shouting at the archers to hold their arrows. He was joined by two others of rank as he stumbled through the line of defenders. She recognized his rank as he approached. He was the captain. The two men with him, one to each side, were lieutenants.

When he drew himself to a panting halt before her, she let the hood of her mantle drop back. Her long hair fell across the white fur.

“What is the . . .” The captain’s eyes went suddenly wide. He and the two lieutenants collapsed to a knee.

Every man as far as she could see fell to his knees. Every head bowed. The rustle of wool, the creek of leather, and the clang of steel fell silent. The three men with her cast one another glances of wonder; they had never seen the Mother Confessor greeted by anyone but Mud People before. The only sound was the slow creak of branches in the cold breeze.

“Rise, my children.”

Accompanied by the renewed racket of movement, all came to their feet. The captain stood and gave her a smart bow, from the waist. He came up with a proud smile.

“Mother Confessor, what an honor!”

Kahlan stared in disbelief at his square jaw, his wavy light brown hair, his clear, blue eyes, his young, handsome face.

“You’re a child,” she whispered. She looked around to the hundreds, the thousands, of young, bright eyes all fixed on her. She blinked at them. She could feel the blood going to her face.

Her fists tightened as she shook with rage. “You’re children! You’re all children!”

The captain glanced back to his men with an embarrassed expression bordering on hurt. “Mother Confessor, we’re new recruits, but we’re all soldiers of the Galean army.”

“You are all children,” she whispered. “Children!”

Silence swept over the gathered recruits. Most looked to be fifteen or sixteen years. The captain and his two lieutenants shifted their weight and hung their heads. Some of the men couldn’t help staring openly at Chandalen, Prindin, and Tossidin. They had never seen anyone like them before.

Kahlan grabbed the captain’s lapels and began dragging him off. She growled to the two lieutenants. “You two come along with us.” She glared over their heads. “Everyone go back to what you were doing!”

There was a rattle of swords being returned to scabbards and arrows to quivers as she dragged the captain out of earshot of his men. When she reached the trees, she pulled him toward a log and released him with an angry shove.

Kahlan flopped down on a snow-covered log as if it were a throne. She folded her arms. Chandalen stood to her right, Prindin and Tossidin to her left. They planted the butts of their spears and waited in silence.

She gritted her teeth. “What is your name, Captain?”

He fumbled with a brass button on his open coat. “I’m Bradley Ryan.” His blue eyes came up. “Captain Bradley Ryan, Mother Confessor.” He quickly glanced away to the man at his right. “This is Lieutenant Nolan Sloan.” He pointed to the other side. “This is Lieutenant Flin Hobson.”

“How many children do you have along with you, Captain Ryan?”

He stiffened a little. “Mother Confessor, we may be younger than you, although not by much, and you may not think highly of us, but we’re soldiers. Good soldiers.”

“Good soldiers.” She was hardly able to keep herself from screaming at him. “If you’re such good soldiers, why was I able to walk, unnoticed, through your line of sentries?” His face reddened and he made a visible effort to remain silent. “And is there a one of these good soldiers, including you three, that is beyond eighteen?” He pressed his lips tighter and shook his head. “Then I repeat, how many children do you have along with you?”

“There are four and a half thousand under my command.”

“And do you know, Captain Ryan, that you are about to stumble upon a force ten times your size?”

Captain Ryan lifted an eyebrow, and a little-boy grin grew out of one side of his mouth. “We’re not about to ‘stumble’ upon anyone, Mother Confessor. We’re about to catch them. We’ve been chasing them. I think we’ll have them tomorrow.”

She gritted her teeth anew. “Have them? Tomorrow, if I hadn’t caught up with you, young man, you and all your ‘men’ would die. You have no idea of the army you are about to catch.”

He lifted his chin. “We know what we are chasing. We have scouts, you know. I get reports.”

Kahlan shot to her feet, thrusting her arm to the right and pointing. “There are fifty thousand men around that mountain!”

“Fifty-two thousand, and a few hundred.” He shrugged. “We’re not stupid. We know what we’re doing.”

Her arm dropped as she glared. “Oh you do, do you? And just what were you going to do once you caught them?”

Captain Ryan smiled as he leaned in, sure that he could prove to her that he indeed did know what he was doing. “Well, they’re about to come to a divergence in the pass. I’m going to send a force up there, around them, to come in from each fork. They’ll think they’re being attacked by a large force. We’re going to drive them back this way, where we’re going to be waiting for them, beyond the narrows just ahead.

“Then, we’re going to retreat back this way, to the narrows, then split the flank, let them in, until they have nowhere to go. The pikemen will be bunched in the narrowest place; they’re called the Anvil. Archers to the sides will hold the enemy to the center. The force driving them is called the Hammer.” His grin widened. “We’ll crush them in the middle.”

He flicked his hand in a casual manner as he straightened a little. “It’s a classic tactic. It’s called the Hammer and Anvil.”

Dumbfounded, Kahlan stared at him. “I know what it’s called, young man. The Hammer and Anvil is a bold maneuver . . . under the right conditions. Against a force ten times your size it’s beyond foolhardy. You are a badger trying to swallow an ox whole.”

“We were taught that with good timing, and determination, a small force of good men, in a tight place, like this valley . . .”

“Good men? You think that’s going to count with the spirits? Is that what your pride and presumption leads you to think!” The captain’s eyes descended to the ground. “You can’t push a boulder with a stick! The only way to move them back this way is to frighten them into moving back.” She thrust her arm out, pointing off toward the enemy again. “Those are experienced, battle-hardened men! They’ve been fighting and killing for a good long time. Do you think they don’t know what a Hammer and Anvil is? Do you think that just because they’re the enemy they are stupid?”

“Well, no, but I think . . .”

She jabbed a finger at his chest as she cut him off. “Do you want me to tell you what’s going to happen, Captain? You don’t have enough men to push them. When you send that detachment around them, they will accommodate you and move a little, and as they do they’ll wing out to let your force in. That’s called a Nutcracker. Guess who the nut is.

“Then they will move. For your Anvil. They will be hounds roused to the scent of blood. After they’ve wiped out your Hammer, there will be nothing to contain them, nothing to keep their flanks from wheeling as they drive in. They have battle experience and know exactly what to do.

“They’ll split your pikemen and their archers, and cut them off from their supporting swordsmen. A flying wedge protected by shields will drive into those pikemen. Crescents to the sides will trap them. Their armored cavalry will come at a full charge and rake down your wings of archers, who will by then have no pikemen to blunt the charge. You will all fight bravely, but you will be outnumbered perhaps twenty to one, because you’ve already sacrificed part of your force to be the Hammer, and they will all be dead by then.

“To fight a larger force, you must divide them, and conquer them one bit at a time. Instead, you will have done the opposite. You will have divided yourself in half for them, so they can kill half at a time. At their leisure.”

The captain stood his ground. “We can make a good show of ourselves. You don’t know how good we are. We’re not novices.”

“Every one of those children under your command will die! Have you ever seen anyone die, Captain? Not die like an old man in bed, but in battle? You will be run through with spears, shot through the eyes with arrows. Swords will hack off arms, split open ribs. Blades will rip your bellies open and spill your guts across the cold ground.

“Faces you know, your friends, these children, will look up at you in panic as they choke on their own blood and vomit. Others will be screaming for help as your enemy moves through the wounded on the ground and eviscerates them, to make them suffer a gruesome death. The ones who surrender will be executed while your enemy dances and sings about the great battle they have just won.”

Captain Ryan’s head finally rose. His lieutenants still stared at the ground. “You sound like Prince Harold, Mother Confessor. He has given me close to the same speech on a number of occasions.”

“Prince Harold is a smart soldier.”

Captain Ryan buttoned two of the brass buttons on his dark brown wool coat. “But that doesn’t change my decision. Of all our choices, the Hammer and Anvil is the best chance we have against them. I believe we can make it work. We must.”

Chandalen leaned toward her and spoke in his tongue. “Mother Confessor, these men are the walking dead. We should be away from them so we do not get caught in their foolishness. They are going to die to a man.”

The captain frowned. “What’d he say?”

Kahlan leaned close to the young captain. “He says you are all going to die tomorrow.”

Captain Ryan looked Chandalen up and down. “What does he know about battle? He’s just a savage from the wilds.”

Kahlan lifted an eyebrow. “Savage? He’s a pretty smart man. He speaks two languages. His, and ours.” Captain Ryan swallowed. “And he has fought in battles. He has killed men. How many men have you killed, Bradley?”

He glanced to his two lieutenants. “Well, none, I guess. Look, I’m sorry, I meant no offense, but I know about war.”

“And what do you know about war, child?” she whispered.

“We’re all volunteers. Myself, three years ago. Almost no man here has less than one year. We’ve all trained hard. Prince Harold himself has worked with us, taught us tactics. We’ve won mock battles against him several times. We may be young but we have experience. We were sent on this expedition as a final test before our assignments. We’ve been afield nearly a month, practicing war games and battle tactics. We know what we are about. Just because we’re young, that doesn’t mean we can’t fight. We may be young, but that also means we’re strong.”

Chandalen laughed. “Strong? You travel like women.” He cleared his throat when Kahlan lifted an eyebrow to him. “Well, some women. You are not so strong as you think. You are soft. You have wagons to carry your needs. That makes you soft. You will die tomorrow.”

Kahlan turned back to the three soldiers. “My friend is wrong. You are not going to die tomorrow.”

The captain brightened. “We’re not? You believe in us, then?”

She shook her head. “You are not going to die tomorrow because I will not allow it. I’m sending you back. You are to take your division back to your command unit. That, Captain, is an order. I’m on my way to Aydindril to take care of this. I will put a stop to that army of killers.”

Captain Ryan’s expression hardened. “We have no command to return to. They were wiped out in Ebinissia. That was where we were training, but we were out on maneuvers. We have the trail of the ones who did it, and we are going after them.”

“Those soldiers in Ebinissia were many times your number, and they were crushed by the force you chase.”

“We know. Those were men we lived with, ate with, slept with. They were our teachers. They were our brothers, our fathers. They were our friends and companions.” He shifted his weight and cleared his throat in an effort to keep his voice steady. “We should have been there with them. We should have been there to stand with them.”

Kahlan turned her back to the three Galean soldiers. She put her fingers to her temples, closing her eyes as she rubbed in little circles. She had a headache from the worry of these young men all being slaughtered. She grieved for the friends of these men, friends and comrades who were killed defending their city. The faces of the young women floated before her mind’s eye.

Kahlan spun around, looking into the eyes of the young captain. Eyes, she realized, that had seen more than she had at first thought.

“You were the one,” she whispered. “You were the one who closed the doors. You closed the doors in the palace. The doors on the rooms of the queen and her ladies.”

He swallowed and then nodded. His blue eyes were wet. His lower lip quivered. “Why would they do that to those poor people?”

Kahlan answered in a gentle tone. “The object of a soldier is to make his enemy do foolish things. Either by making them too frightened, or too angry, to think. They do it to strike fear into your hearts, but more than that, to make you so angry you will do something foolish so they can kill you, too.”

“Those men we chase are the ones who did that. We have no command to return to. It’s upon us now.”

“That is the foolish thing they want you to do. You will not. You will go to another command. You are not going to attack that army.”

“Mother Confessor, I’m a soldier sworn to serve Galea and the Midlands. In my life, young though you think it is, I’ve never once entertained the idea of disobeying my commanders, my queen, or the Mother Confessor.” Captain Ryan lifted her wrist with his finger and thumb and placed her hand on his shoulder. “But in this, I must disobey your orders. If you wish, you may take me with your power, but I will not otherwise do as you say.”

Lieutenant Sloan spoke up for the first time. “And then you will have to take me, because I’ll take his place, and lead our men to the fight.”

Lieutenant Hobson stepped forward. “And then you’ll have to take me.”

“After the three of us,” Captain Ryan said, “you will have to move through the officers and then every one of the men. If there is one left, he will attack, and die in battle if need be.”

She drew her hand back. “I’m going to the Central Council and will take care of this. What you want to do is a suicide.”

“Mother Confessor, we are going to attack.”

“For what! For glory? You want to be heroes avenging the murdered? You want to die in a glorious battle!”

“No, Mother Confessor,” he said in a quiet tone. “We saw what those men did to Ebinissia. We saw what they did to the soldiers they captured. We saw what they did to the women and children back there. Many of the men under my command had mothers and sisters back there. We all saw what was done to them, and what was done to our fathers and brothers. Our people.”

He drew himself up tall and straight as he looked with resolve into her eyes. “We’re not doing this for glory, Mother Confessor. We know it’s a suicide mission. But we’re all single; we have no families to leave without fathers. We’re doing it because those men will go on to another city and do to them what they did in Ebinissia. We’re doing this to stop them, if we can.

“Our lives are sworn to protect our people. We cannot shirk our responsibility. We must attack and try to stop these men before they kill any more innocent people. I pray to the good spirits that you succeed in Aydindril, but still, that will take too long. How many more cities will be plundered before you can bring the Midlands to bear on these men? One city is too many. We’re the only ones in contact with these killers. Our lives are all that stand between them and their next victims.

“When I took the oath to serve, I swore that no matter the choices, no matter the orders, I would always put the protection of my people first. That’s why I must disobey your orders, Mother Confessor—not for glory, but to protect the defenseless. I wish to have your blessing in this, but I will try to stop those men with your blessing, or without it.”

She sank to sit on the log again, and stared off into the distance, pondering the three soldiers. The six men waited in silence. Children indeed. They were older than she had thought. And they were right.

It would still take her some time to get to Aydindril and more time yet to raise armies to hunt down these killers. In the meantime they would go on killing. How many would have to die waiting for help from the Central Council?

She wished she could be anyone right now but who she was. The Mother Confessor. She disregarded her feelings and considered the problem as the Mother Confessor must; she weighed lives, those spent, and those spared.

Kahlan stood and turned to Chandalen. “We must help these men.”

Chandalen pushed his hands farther up on his spear and leaned toward her. “Mother Confessor, these men are foolish children, and they are going to die. If we stay with them they will bring a storm of killing around us. We will be killed with them. They will die just the same, and you will not reach Aydindril.”

“Chandalen, these boys are like the Mud People. They are chasing their Jocopo. If we don’t help them, then more will die like we saw back in the city.”

Prindin leaned in. “Mother Confessor, we will do whatever you wish, but there is no way to help these boys. We are only four.”

Tossidin nodded. “And then you would fail in your duty to reach Aydindril. Is that not important?”

“Of course it is.” She pulled some hair back off her face. “But what if the army who killed everyone in that city were going next to the Mud People? Would you not want me to help if it were your people they would murder next?”

The three men straightened. They twisted their spears while they thought, glancing over her shoulder occasionally, to the three soldiers who also stood silently.

“What would you do to defeat this enemy,” she asked as she moved her gaze among the three, “if you had to?”

At last Tossidin leaned in again. “There are too many. It cannot be done.”

Chandalen angrily backhanded Tossidin’s shoulder. “We are Mud People fighters! We are smarter than these men who ride in wagons and murder women. Do you think them better fighters than us?”

The two brothers shuffled their feet as they averted their eyes. “Well,” Prindin said, “we know that the way they want to do it will only get them killed. There are better ways.”

Chandalen smiled. “Of course there are. The spirits taught my grandfather how to do such things. He taught my father and my father taught me. The numbers may be larger, but it is the same problem. We know better than these men what to do.” He looked Kahlan in the eye. “You, too, know better than these men what to do. You know you must not fight the way the enemy wants. That is what these men are about to do.”

Kahlan smiled at him and nodded. “Maybe we can help these men protect other innocent people.”

She turned to Captain Ryan. He had been watching her speak in a foreign tongue with the three strange men.

“All right, Captain. We are going to go after this army.”

He gripped her shoulders. “Thank you, Mother Confessor!” He jerked his hands back, realizing with a fright that he had actually touched her. He instead rubbed his hands together. “It will work. You’ll see. We’ll have the jump on them. We’ll surprise them and have them all on a pike.”

She leaned toward him. He backed away. “Surprise them? Surprise them!” She grabbed him by his collar and pulled his face close. “They have a wizard, you idiot!”

The captain’s face paled. “A wizard?” he whispered.

She released his collar with an angry shove. “You were at Ebinissia, didn’t you see the hole melted through the wall?”

“Well . . . I guess I didn’t pay attention. I only saw the dead.” His eyes darted about, as if seeing them now. “They were everywhere.”

She cooled at the pained expression on his face. “I understand. They were your friends and family. I can understand why you wouldn’t have noticed. But that is no excuse for a soldier. A soldier must notice everything. Missing details can get you killed, Captain. This is a good example of a little detail that would have done you in.”

He swallowed and then nodded. “Yes, Mother Confessor.”

“Do you want to kill the men who destroyed Ebinissia?” The three soldiers spoke up that they did. “Then I am taking command of this legion. If you want to stop the men who are up there, then you will do as I say. And as Chandalen, Prindin, and Tossidin say.

“You may know about battle tactics, but we know about killing people. This is not a battle, Captain, this is killing people. We are only going to help you if you really want to stop those men. If you are interested in having a battle, then we will leave you right now so you can get yourselves slaughtered.”

Captain Ryan fell to a knee. The two lieutenants followed his example. “Mother Confessor, it would be my greatest honor to serve under you. You have my life, and the lives of every one of my men. If you know how to stop those men from murdering any more people, we will do whatever you ask.”

She nodded down to the three men. “This is no war game, Captain. For us to win, every man must do as he is ordered. Anyone who doesn’t do as we order is aiding the enemy. That is treason. If you want to stop those men, then you all are going to have to turn command over to me, and you can’t change your mind if the task becomes grim. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mother Confessor. I understand.”

She looked to the other two. “And you?”

“I am honored to serve under you, Mother Confessor.”

“As am I, Mother Confessor.”

Kahlan motioned them up and then drew her fur mantle closed. “I must get to Aydindril. It is of the utmost importance, but I will help you begin this. We will 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 commit 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 come into the enemy camp from the other side.