tg.stone of tears-第142部分

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　These　men　were　neither　moral　nor　ethical；　they　were　animals　who　lived　by　no　rule　but　might。　They　had　raped　the　women　at　the　palace　and　had　mercilessly　butchered　the　people　of　Ebinissia；　from　the　aged　down　to　newborn　babes。
　
　A　man　lunged　through　the　ring　of　steel　around　her；　grabbing　at　her　saddle　for　support。　He　gaped　at　her；　crying　a　prayer　for　mercy　from　the　good　spirits。　She　split　his　skull。
　
　Kahlan　wheeled　her　horse　to　face　Sergeant　Cullen。　‘Have　we　captured　the　mand　tents？’
　
　The　sergeant　signaled；　and　one　of　the　white；　naked　men　ran　off　to　check　as　they　drove　deeper　into　the　camp　of　the　Order。　When　she　spotted　the　horses；　she　gave　the　signal。　From　behind　she　heard　the　sound　of　galloping　hooves；　and　the　sharp　rattle　of　chains：　scythes　of　death；　e　to　reap　a　crop　of　the　living。
　
　With　a　sound　like　a　boy　running　past　a　picket　fence　with　a　stick　in　hand；　the　chain　scythes　being　pulled　at　a　full　charge　reaped　a　snapping　of　bone　that　meshed　into　a　long；　clacking　roar。　The　beasts’　screams　and　the　dull　thuds　as　they　slammed　the　ground　drowned　out　the　sound　of　galloping　hooves　and　breaking　bone。
　
　Even　the　drunken　enemy　turned　from　the　white　spirits　to　stare　at　the　ghastly　spectacle。　It　was　the　last　thing　they　saw。　Men　stumbled　from　their　tents；　to　watch　without　understanding　what　it　was　that　was　occurring　before　their　eyes。　Others　wandered　aimlessly；　mugs　in　hand；　as　if　at　a　fair；　drunkenly　looking　from　one　sight　to　another。　There　were　so　many；　some　had　to　wait　a　bit　for　their　turn　to　die。
　
　Some　were　not　drunk　and　saw　not　spirits　but　men　painted　white。　They　saw　an　attack；　and　understood　well…honed　blades　ing　for　them。　A　pocket　of　fierce　counterattack　was　surrounded　and　broken；　but　not　without　cost。　Kahlan　rallied　her　men　and　drove　her　wedge　of　white　steel　deeper　into　the　heart　of　the　enemy’s　camp。
　
　She　saw　two　men　on　huge　draft　horses　…　she　couldn’t　see　who　they　were　…　having　cut　down　all　the　horses　they　could　find；　take　to　charging　down　a　line　of　tents；　reaping　havoc　as　well　as　helpless　men。　The　chain　caught　something　as　solid　as　bedrock。　It　whipped　the　horses　around　into　a　brutal　collision。　The　riders　went　down。　Men　with　swords　and　axes　swarmed　over　them。
　
　A　man　with　sword　to　hand；　and　sober；　she　was　alarmed　to　note；　appeared　suddenly　next　to　her　leg。　He　looked　up　with　a　fierce　glare。　His　sharp　eyes　made　her　feel　suddenly　nothing　more　than　a　naked　woman　sitting　on　a　horse。
　
　He　took　all　of　her　in。　‘What　the　。。。’
　
　A　foot　of　steel　erupted　from　his　breastbone；　driving　a　grunt　from　his　lungs。
　
　‘Mother　Confessor！’　The　naked　man　behind　yanked　his　sword　free　and　pointed　with　it。　‘The　mand　tents　are　over　there！’
　
　A　movement　to　the　other　side　caught　her　attention。　With　a　backhanded　swing；　she　caught　the　side　of　a　stumbling　drunk’s　neck。
　
　‘Let’s　go！　To　the　mand　tents！　Now！’
　
　Her　men　abandoned　the　enemy　they　were　decimating　to　follow　her　as　she　jumped　Nick　over　men　and　fires　and　crumpled　wagons。　As　they　followed；　they　didn’t　stop　to　slaughter　the　confused；　panicked；　and　drunken　D’Harans　everywhere；　but　cut　down　those　they　could　if　it　didn’t　slow　their　pace。　Where　necessary；　they　engaged　the　sporadic　resistance。
　
　The　large　mand　tents　were　surrounded　by　her　white　Galeans。　They　held　a　small　group　of　about　fifteen　men　at　swordpoint。　Before　them　lay　a　neat　row　of　at　least　thirty　bodies　on　their　backs　in　the　snow。
　
　Others　of　her　men　were　throwing　battle　standards　and　flags　atop　a　large　pile　already　smoldering　and　burning　in　the　fire。　Empty　casks　lay　scattered　in　the　snow。　When　their　army　had　e　under　attack；　the　manders　had　issued　no　orders。　The　army　of　the　Imperial　Order　was　without　benefit　of　direction。
　
　Lieutenant　Sloan　pointed　with　his　sword　to　the　line　of　bodies。　These　officers　were　already　dead。　The　poison　did　its　work。　These　others　were　still　alive；　although　not　in　the　best　of　health。　They　were　all　lying　about　in　their　tents。　We　could　hardly　get　them　up。　They　asked　us　for　rum；　if　you　can　believe　it。　We’ve　held　them；　like　you　said。’
　
　Kahlan　surveyed　the　faces　of　the　bodies　in　the　snow。　She　didn’t　see　what　she　wanted。　She　looked　to　the　faces　of　the　captured　officers。　He　wasn’t　there　either。
　
　She　directed　her　Confessor’s　face　to　a　Keltish　officer　at　the　end　of　the　line。　‘Where’s　Riggs？’
　
　He　glared　at　her；　and　then　spat。　Kahlan　lifted　her　gaze　to　the　man　holding　him。　She　drew　her　finger　across　her　throat。　He　didn’t　hesitate。　The　officer　went　down　in　a　heap。
　
　She　looked　to　the　next　officer。　‘Where’s　Riggs？’
　
　His　eyes　darted　about。　‘I　don’t　know！’
　
　Kahlan　drew　her　finger　across　her　throat。　As　he　went　down；　she　looked　to　the　next　man；　a　D’Haran　mander。
　
　‘Where’s　Riggs？’
　
　His　eyes　were　wide；　but　not　at　the　two　bleeding　bodies　beside　him。　His　horror　was　for　her。　A　spirit　before　him。　He　wet　his　lips。
　
　‘He　was　hurt；　by　the　Mother　Confessor。　I　mean；　by　you。　Before。’　His　voice　trembled。　‘When　you　were　。。。　alive。’
　
　‘Where　is　he！’
　
　He　winced；　shaking　his　head　vigorously。　‘I　don’t　know；　great　spirit！　He　was　hurt；　his　face　was　cut　by　the　horse。　He　is　being　tended　to　by　the　surgeons。　I　don’t　know　where　their　tents　are。’
　
　‘Who　knows　where　the　surgeon’s　tents　are？’
　
　Most　trembled　and　shuddered　as　they　shook　their　heads。　Kahlan　stepped　her　horse　down　the　line　of　officers。　She　stopped　before　one　she　knew。
　
　‘General　Karsh。　I　am　very　pleased　to　see　you　again。　Where’s　Riggs！’
　
　‘Wouldn’t　tell　you　if　I　knew。’　He　grinned　as　he　leered　up　at　her。　‘You　look　better　naked　than　I　fancied。　Why　are　you　whoring　with　this　lot？　We　could　do　you　better　than　these　boys。’
　
　The　man　holding　him　twisted　his　arm　until　he　cried　out。　‘Show　respect　for　the　Mother　Confessor；　you　Keltish　pig！’
　
　‘Respect！　For　a　whore　holding　a　sword？　Never！’
　
　Kahlan　leaned　toward　him。　These　‘boys’　have　you　under　their　blades。　Every　one　is　a　better　man　than　you；　I　would　say。
　
　‘You　wanted　war；　Karsh。　You　have　your　wish。　You　have　war；　now。　A　real　war；　not　a　slaughter　of　women　and　children；　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　sho