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a full charge。
She was free of the hands。 She leaped to her feet。 The chain was almost upon them。
‘Help me up on my horse！’
The one…eyed man grabbed her ankle in his big fist and； with one arm； boosted her up into the saddle。 Somehow she still had the sword in her hand。 She leaned forward and swung it at the man holding the bit； holding his prize。 The sword’s tip sliced open the side of his face and half the length of his arm。 He staggered back with a shriek。 She snatched up the reins。 The one…eyed man bellowed as he lopped off heads and ripped open chests with his huge war axe。
‘Go； Mistress！ Escape！ Orsk will protect you！’
‘I’m going！ Run； Orsk！ Don’t let them get you！’
The D’Harans abandoned her and her horse to turn to the new threats … Orsk and the chain。 She thumped Nick’s ribs with her heels； urging him into a gallop just as Brin and Peter caught up with her。 She stuffed her bare feet into the stirrups as the three of them raced away。
She spotted the trail that hundreds of feet had left in the snow and followed it across the valley； into the mist； leaving the men of the army of the Order to collect their wits。 It took them mere seconds。 They charged after her。 There were more than enough still alive。 Thousands。
Peter unhooked the chain that must have broken hundreds of bones and necks。 The end of the chain bounced behind。 Brin’s bony fingers drew in the dragging slack and coiled it over the hame。
As she galloped into the night； she thought she could hear the sound of soft laughter fading behind。 She shivered with the memory of the kiss Darken Rahl had left on her neck。 She felt suddenly very naked again。
Though the mist was icy cold； feeling like sparkling flecks all over her； she was sweating。 Blood ran from her swollen lip。
‘I never thought I would see you two again；’ she yelled over the sound of hooves。
Brin and Peter； in their too…big coats； grinned in the darkness。 ‘We told you we could do the job；’ Brin said。
She smiled for the first time that night。 ‘You two are a marvel。’
She just caught sight of the hindquarters of the other draft horses disappearing into the fog。 She pointed。 There are your men。 Good luck。’ With a wave； they turned away from her。
She galloped on alone； and a short distance later caught up with the men on foot。 She first saw only one。 He had a horrific gash on his leg and had fallen far behind。 She knew she should leave him。 She knew she should。 The D’Harans were right behind。
As she rode up to him； he turned his head up as he struggled through the snow。 He knew she had to leave him。 Those were the orders。 Her orders。 Keep up； or be left behind。 No exceptions。
As she rode by； she leaned over； extending her arm down。 They clasped wrists and she yanked him up behind her。
‘Hold on； soldier。’
He held his arms out； trying to balance as the horse ran； afraid to touch her。 ‘But。。。 where？’
‘Around my waist！ Put your arms around my waist！’
He still held his arms out as he bounced。 ‘But 。。。’
‘Haven’t you ever put your arms around a woman before？’
‘Yes。。。 but she had clothes on；’ he whined。
‘Do it； or you’ll fall off； and I’m not ing back for you。’
Reluctantly； carefully； he put his arms around her waist； stiffly trying to keep them away from anything important； or unfamiliarly exotic。 Kahlan gave the back of his hands a pat of reassurance。 ‘When you brag about this； don’t make it more than it is。’ He let out a small； worried groan that made her smile。
As they rode on； she could feel his warm blood running down the back of her leg； dripping from her toes in the stirrup。 She could hear the shouts of the enemy chasing behind。
He was losing a lot of blood。 In exhaustion； he laid his head against the back of her shoulder。 If they didn’t tie his wound closed； he would bleed to death in short order。 She was naked； and had nothing to use as a bandage； even if they had the time to stop。
‘Hold the wound closed with a hand；’ she said。 ‘Clamp it closed as tight as you can。 And hold fast to me with your other arm。 I don’t want you falling off。’
He took one arm from her waist and held the gash closed as she rode right on the heels of the men at the end of the line。 They were cold and fatigued。 The men of the Order were not far behind。 As she looked back； they came into sight。 She was shocked by the numbers。 They hooted and hollered。
‘Run！ Run or we will be caught！’
A wall of rock； with scraggly trees growing from cracks and clefts； loomed up before them。 The men ran up the narrow pass as if their lives depended on it。 And they did。
As they began the climb up the rift； she rang the flat of her sword three times on the rock； giving the signal。
A man ahead turned as he ran。 ‘We’re not there yet！ It’s too soon！ We’ll be caught along with the enemy！’
‘Then you better run faster！ If we wait too long； they will get through； too！’
She rapped the rock wall three more times； the ringing sound carrying into the dark； damp air。 She hoped it would work； there； of course； had been no way to perform a test。 The men ahead scrambled up the trail。 Nick’s hooves slipped in places on the snow…covered rock。
At first； she could only feel it； a rumbling deep in her chest； too low to hear； but too powerful not to be felt。 She looked up along the mist…slicked rock that disappeared above into the dark and fog。 She couldn’t see it yet； but she could feel it。
She hoped the man was wrong； that it wouldn’t be too soon。 When she heard the battle cries of the men ing from behind； she knew they had no choice。
And then she could hear it： a booming roar； as if the ground itself were moving。 She could hear tree trunks snapping。 The thundering growl reverberated off the surrounding mountain walls。 The ground vibrated。
‘Run！ Can’t you run any faster？ Do you want to be buried alive？ Run！’
She knew they were going as fast as they could； but they were on foot； and from atop her horse； it seemed painfully slow。 Deadly slow。
Overhead； the rumbling roar grew louder as uncountable tons of snow crashed down toward them。 She was thrilled that the men on top had been successful in starting an avalanche on mand； but she was also terrified that she had given the mand too soon。
A lump of wet snow slapped her face； another smacked her shoulder。 Little clods rattled through the trees above them and bounced out over the edge。 A cloud of fluffy snow misted her face。 The roar was deafening。
A flow of thundering white sluiced over the ledge above。 They drove through it； like running through a waterfall。 Behind her； a tree trunk bounced on the trail； spinning out over the precipice。 They just cleared the leading edge of the bulk of snow。
The men of the Imperial Order behind were not so lucky。 The plunging snow； charged with timber and boulders； cascaded down with ever…gathering power。 They were swept away in the tumbling white death。 The fury of sound muffled the screams of men it carried away； rolling them into the pounding slide； burying them alive。
Kahlan sagged with relief。 They could not be followed now。 The pass was entombed。
The panting men slowed； but they couldn’t slow too much； or they would freeze。 Their pace kept them warm。 Their feet； she knew； despite being wrapped in white cloth for a little protection； were not warm。 They had given her their best effort。 They had given the Midlands their best effort。 Many had given their lives。
Kahlan was so exhausted from lack of sleep； as well as the fatigue of battle； along with the emotional drain of fright； and the effort required to use her power； that she could hardly stay upright。 Soon； she told herself； she could rest。 Soon。
She patted the hand on her stomach。 ‘We made it； soldier。 We’re safe； now。’
‘Yes； Mother Confessor；’ he whispered groggily。 ‘Mother Confessor； I’m sorry。’
‘For what？’
‘I only killed seventeen。 I’m sorry。 I promised myself I’d get twenty。 I only got seventeen；’ he mumbled。
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