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Rage swelled in her, banishing the momentary sensation of loss and panic, swelled on behalf of all those beings, the twilight beings, who depended upon her for voice and protection.
She nodded slowly as she held the General's gaze.
"In my capacity as Mother Confessor, the highest rank of authority in the Midlands, to whose mandate all must bow, I grant your wish." She leaned forward and spoke in a hiss. "Let there be war. On my word and office, not one of you shall be granted quarter."
Kahlan's fist came up to the wizard. It was for him she had come.
Her chest heaved with wrath, and with terror at the madness of these men. She let the magic surge within her, demanding release, demanding this wizard's death.
It was for him she had come. She must not fail. The blood rage screamed through her.
She called the lighting forth.
Nothing happened.
She froze for an instant in the panic of the failure of the magic. Then Riggs lunged for her leg.
Kahlan hauled back on the reins. The ferocious warhorse sprang into battle. He bellowed as he reared, kicking his front legs. Kahlan grasped his mane for dear life. A lashing hoof caught Riggs across the face, throwing him back. The thrashing hooves crashed down on the table, shattering it to splinters. Men in chairs toppled backwards. Nick's front hooves crushed the head of one of the D'Haran officers, the leg of another.
The horse spun and kicked at the men. Kahlan gave him her heels, and he leapt into a gallop as the wizard was rising to his feet. Surprised men threw themselves out of the way. She took a quick glance over her shoulder to see the wizard throwing his hands out. A ball of wizard's fire exploded to life before him, turning in the air, awaiting command. He threw his arms out again, sending the fire on its way toward her.
The warhorse leapt over fires and men, kicking up both snow and flaming firewood. His legs caught tent lines, yanking them down. Kahlan spotted what she wanted, what she wanted more than life itself, and maneuvered the horse for it.
She could hear the wail of the wizard's fire coming for her. She could hear the screams of men unexpectedly caught up in it. She stole another glance to see the blue and yellow ball of flame tumbling through the tents and men, growing all the time, taking a course as drunken as the wizard. Wizard's fire had to be guided, and in his state, the wizard was having difficulty controlling what he had wrought. Were he sober, she would be dead by now.
Dear spirits, she prayed, if I am to die, let me have time enough first to do what I must.
Kahlan reached her goal. As she galloped past, she yanked a lance from a snow bank and wheeled her horse. She dug her heels in and Nick leapt ahead at a full gallop.
The ball of fire wailed toward her, setting tents and men afire. It grew and tumbled as the distance closed.
The lance was unexpectedly heavy, made for men who had more muscle that she, and she had to carry it upright to save her strength. The warhorse didn't flinch as he galloped, not at the noise, the confusion, the running men, or the wizard's fire. She pulled to one side and then the other, Nick's hooves digging into the packed snow. She dodged obstacles, weaving her way toward the wizard's fire at full speed. Toward the wizard.
Slagle tried to change the course of the fire, to block her advance, each time she wove in her headlong rush. His reactions were slow, but as the distance closed, she knew he wouldn't need to be fast to catch her up in it.
At the last instant, she wheeled her horse around to the right. The fire roared by so close she could smell burnt hair, and then she was racing again.
As she charged the horse ahead, the wizard's fire exploded behind, cascading across the ground like a burst dam. The horrifying death screams of man and beast caught in the conflagration filled the night air. Dozens of men, all afire, rolled through the snow, trying to put out the flames. But wizard's fire was not so easy to extinguish; it was alive with purpose.
The howls of pain panicked those around who didn't know what was happening. Men screamed in fear of spirits they thought were setting upon them. Swords were drawn and wielded, hacking at those running for their lives from the fire. Battle erupted out of nothing. The air carried not only the choking stench of burning flesh, but now blood.
She ignored the screams and sought the silence within.
The wizard stumbled backwards and fell. He came to his feet whirling his arms. Fire formed in the air at the arc of his fingertips.
Though there was confusion all about, only one thing filled her vision. The wizard.
She couched the lance, tucking the base under her right armpit, jamming her grip tight against the leather stop. Gritting her teeth, she used all her strength to lift the heavy lance over Nick's bobbing head, to the left side, so as not to unbalance herself in the saddle.
Nick took her direction as if he could read her mind. She steered him at full speed, but it seemed to her that the last ten yards took hours, as a race between her charge and the wizard calling forth fire.
Wizard Slagle looked up to direct the fire just as her lance caught him in the chest. The impact shattered the lance to splinters at mid length and nearly tore the wizard in half. She and her horse flew through a spray of blood.
Kahlan swung the half lance at a man lunging for her, catching him across the head. The impact tore it from her grip. She wheeled the horse and leaned forward over his withers as she galloped at full speed back through the confusion around the command tents. Her heart pounded as fast as the horses hooves.
One of the D'Haran officers from the table was up and screaming for a horse. Men leapt onto horses bareback. As she began putting distance between them, she could hear him yell that if they failed to catch her they would be drawn and quartered to a man. A quick glance showed a good three dozen riders joining the chase.
Away from the command tents, back the way she had come, men didn't know what was happening, and saw a galloping rider as simply part of the drunken festivities. None moved to stop her. Men, tents, fires, polearms and lances stuck upright in the snow, stacks of pikes, horses, and wagons all flashed by in a blur.
Nick jumped anything he couldn't dodge. The threat of him not jumping or dodging had men diving for cover. Men at games tumbled out of the way, coin and dice flying into the air. Tents pulled up when their lines crossed Nick's legs flew up and billowed in a tangle behind, catching up her pursuers. Horses and riders crashed to the ground. Others ran over their own men in their frenzied attempt to keep her in sight.
Kahlan spotted a sword hanging in a scabbard that was fastened to the side of a wagon, and as she ran past, she pulled it free. Galloping past picket lines, she swung the sword, cutting the lead lines. She hacked the rump of one horse as she charged past. He kicked and screamed in fright and pain, panicking the rest of the horses. They bolted headlong in every direction. Lanterns on poles toppled onto tents, setting them afire.
The horses in pursuit balked at the fires, rearing and bucking, throwing their riders to the ground. A man lunged suddenly into her path, avoiding Nick's flying hooves and grabbing for her. Kahlan drove the sword home through his chest as she flew by. The hilt tore from her hand. She leaned forward and held on as Nick raced through the endless camp. The men chasing weren't as close, but they were still coming.
Suddenly, she was free of the camp, galloping through the open snow. Kahlan followed her own tracks across the flat by the waning light of the moon. The muscular horse plowed through the snow almost as if it weren't there.
She reached the trees at last, and before plunging in and ascending the steep slopes, she checked over her shoulder.
A good fifty men were not three minutes behind. She would be able to open the lead as she went up along the forest trail, but they would still catch her.
She would see to that.
39
"Easy now," she cautioned. One hesitant hoof slipped. "Back, back, back. Come on boy, back."
From down the slope behind, she could hear the sounds of the chase; a man, probably one
of the D'Haran officers, yelling angrily at the top of his lungs not to let her get away, and others urging their horses up the steep trail. When they reached the flat where she was, they would be in a full gallop again.
Kahlan tugged gently on the reins. Nick lifted his hoof from the ice and backed up, into the tight gap between the snow crusted pines, back along his trail.
