tg.stone of tears-第88部分

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ope　that　someday　I’m　half　as　wise　as　you；　and　have　the　guts　you　do；　to　use　that　wisdom。’
　
　She　released　a　quiet　sigh。　‘I’m　hardly　older　than　you；　yet　you　make　me　feel　like　an　old　woman。　I’m　relieved；　you　understand。　It’s　a　small　pleasure　in　all　this　pain。　You’re　a　fine　officer；　and　will　do　right　by　this　world。’
　
　He　smiled。　‘I’m　glad　we’re　on　good　terms　again。’
　
　A　man　approached；　and　was　waved　forward　by　the　captain。　‘What　is　it；　Sergeant　Frost？’
　
　Sergeant　Frost　gave　a　salute　of　his　fist　to　his　heart。　‘We　sent　a　few　men　out；　and　in　an　abandoned　barn　they　found　some　crushed　chalk　and　other　things　needed　to　make　whitewash。　We　have　some　wooden　tubs　we　can　mix　it　in。　You　said　you　wanted　it　in　something　big。　They’re　big　enough　to　bathe　in。’
　
　‘How　many　of　these　tubs　do　you　have？’　Kahlan　asked。
　
　‘A　dozen；　Mother　Confessor。’
　
　‘Put　the　tubs　near　each　other；　and　pitch　a　tent　around　each。　Use　the　largest　tents　you　have；　even　if　it　is　the　mand　tents。　Make　the　whitewash　with　hot　water；　and　place　the　heated　stones　inside　the　tents；　to　keep　it　as　warm　as　possible　inside。　Let　me　know　when　all　this　is　seen　to。’
　
　Keeping　his　obvious　questions　to　himself；　the　sergeant　saluted　and　rushed　off　to　see　it　done。
　
　Captain　Ryan　gave　her　a　curious　frown。　‘What　do　you　want　with　whitewash？’
　
　‘We’ve　just　gotten　back　on　good　terms；　let’s　not　spoil　it　for　a　bit。　I’ll　tell　you　after　things　are　prepared。　Are　the　wagons　ready？’
　
　‘Should　be。’
　
　‘Then　I　must　see　to　them。　Did　you　send　the　sentries　and　lookouts？’
　
　‘First　thing。’
　
　As　she　walked　through　the　camp　to　the　wagons；　men　came　to　her　constantly。　‘The　wagon　wheels；　Mother　Confessor。　As　we　destroy　things　we　should　stave　in　the　wheels’　and　Their　battle　standards；　shouldn’t　we　burn　them；　so　they　can’t　rally　their　men　around　them？’　and　‘Couldn’t　we　set　fire　to　their　baggage；　so　if　the　weather　turns　colder　they’ll　freeze？’　and　‘If　we　were　to　throw　manure　in　their　barrels　of　drinking　water；　they　would　have　to　waste　time　melting　snow；’　and　a　hundred　other　ideas；　from　the　absurd　to　the　worthwhile。　She　listened　to　each　with　attention；　giving　her　honest　opinion；　and；　in　a　few　cases；　her　orders　to　see　it　done。
　
　Lieutenant　Hobson　came　at　a　trot　holding　out　a　tin　bowl。　That　was　the　last　thing　she　needed。
　
　‘Mother　Confessor！　I　kept　some　stew　hot　for　you！’
　
　Beaming；　he　handed　her　the　bowl　as　she　walked。　She　tried　to　act　grateful。　He　walked　along　next　to　her；　watching；　grinning。　She　forced　herself　to　take　a　spoonful；　and　to　tell　him　how　wonderful　it　tasted。　It　was　all　she　could　do　to　keep　that　one　spoonful　down。
　
　After　using　her　power；　a　Confessor　needed　time　to　recover。　For　some　it　was　days；　for　her　it　took　a　couple　of　hours。　Rest；　if　she　could　get　it；　was　the　best　thing　for　a　Confessor　after　using　her　power。　The　little　rest　she　had　gotten　was　now　wasted。　She　could　get　no　more　now；　and　probably　would　get　none　this　night　either。
　
　The　last　thing　a　Confessor　needed　while　recovering　her　power　was　food。　It　diverted　her　energy　to　the　food　instead　of　returning　her　strength。　She　had　to　think　of　a　way　out　of　eating　the　bowl　of　stew　or　it　would　end　up　on　the　ground；　to　the　embarrassment　of　all。
　
　Thankfully；　she　reached　the　wagons　before　she　had　to　take　another　mouthful。　She　asked　Lieutenant　Hobson　to　get　Chandalen　and　the　two　brothers；　and　bring　them　to　her。
　
　After　he　left；　she　set　the　bowl　down　on　the　splinter　bar　of　the　dray　with　the　casks　of　ale　and　climbed　up。
　
　She　motioned　Captain　Ryan　up　on　the　wagon　as　she　counted。　‘Get　some　men。　Unload　the　top　rows　so　we　can　get　at　them　all。　Right　the　casks　on　the　bottom　row；　and　withdraw　the　plugs。’　As　he　motioned　for　men　to　help　with　the　task；　she　asked；　‘Did　Chandalen　have　you　all　make　a　troga？’
　
　A　troga　was　a　simple；　stout　piece　of　cord　or　a　wire　with　a　wooden　handle　on　each　end；　and　long　enough　so　that　when　it　was　given　a　twist；　it　made　a　loop　that　was　the　right　size　to　drop　over　a　man’s　head。　It　was　applied　from　behind；　and　then　the　handles　yanked　apart。　If　it　was　made　of　wire；　placed　correctly　at　the　neck　joints；　and　the　man　wielding　it　had　arms　big　enough；　his　troga　could　decapitate　a　person　before　the　victim　had　a　chance　to　make　a　sound。　Even　if　it　wasn’t　wire；　or　his　arms　were　not　that　strong；　the　victim　still　made　no　sound　before　he　died。
　
　Captain　Ryan　reached　behind　his　back；　under　his　coat；　and　retrieved　a　wire　troga；　holding　it　up　for　her　to　see。　‘He　gave　us　a　little　demonstration。　He　was　gentle；　but　I’m　still　glad　I　wasn’t　the　one　he　demonstrated　on。　He　says　he　and　Prindin　and　Tossidin　will　use　these　to　take　the　sentries　and　lookouts。　I　don’t　think　he　believes　we　can　sneak　up　on　them　like　he　can。　But　many　of　us　have　spent　a　lot　of　time　hunting；　and　we’re　more　clever　。。。’
　
　Captain　Ryan　leapt　with　a　yelp。　Chandalen　had　poked　him　in　the　ribs；　having　e　up　unseen　behind　him。　The　captain　forted　his　ribs　and　scowled　at　a　smiling　Chandalen。　Prindin　and　his　brother　climbed　up　to　help　unload　the　barrels。
　
　‘You　wish　something；　Mother　Confessor？’　Chandalen　asked。
　
　Kahlan　held　her　hand　out。　‘Give　me　your　bandu。　Your　ten…step　poison。’
　
　His　brow　wrinkled　into　a　scowl；　but　he　reached　into　the　pouch　at　his　waist　and　pulled　out　the　bone　box；　leaning　over　to　hand　it　to　her。　The　brothers　fished　out　their　boxes；　too；　and　handed　them　to　her。
　
　‘How　much　will　I　be　able　to　poison　with　it？　How　many　casks　can　I　make　poison？’
　
　Chandalen　stepped　around　Captain　Ryan；　balancing　atop　the　sides　of　the　round　barrels。　‘You　are　going　to　put　it　in　this　drink？’　Kahlan　nodded。　‘But　then　we　won’t　have　any　more。　We　must　have　it　with　us。　We　may　need　it。’
　
　‘I’ll　leave　a　bit　for　emergencies。　Every　one　we　can　kill　in　this　way　is　one　less　to　fight。’
　
　‘But　they　might　discover　it’s　poison；’　Captain　Ryan　said。　Then　we　won’t　even　have　them　drunk。’
　
　They　have　dogs；’　Kahlan　said。　That’s　why　I　want　to　send　them　food；　too。　They　will　throw　the　dogs　some　of　the　meat；　to　make　sure　it’s　good。　I’m　hoping　they　will　be　put　at　ease　after　testing　the　food　on　the　dogs；　and　anxious　enough　for　the　ale　that　the　idea　of　it　being　poisoned　won’t　e　into　their　heads。’
　
　Chandalen　counted　the　barrels　silently；　and　then　straightened。　There　are　thirty…six。　Twelve　for　each　of　our　bandu。’　He　scratched　his　head　of　black　hair　while　he　pondered。　‘It　will　not　kill　them；　unless　they　drink　much；　but　it　will　make　them　sick。’
　
　‘How　sick？　What　will　it　do？’
　
　‘It　will　make　them　weak。　They　will　be　sick　in　their　stomachs。　Their　heads　will　spin　inside。　Maybe；　some　will　die　in　a　hand　of　days　from　the　poison　sickness。’
　
　Kahlan　nodded。　‘It　will　be　a　great　help。’
　
　‘But　this　is　hardly　enough　for　all　their　men；’　Captain　Ryan　said。　‘Only　some　will　drink　this。’
　
　‘Some　will　go　to　the　unit　who　plundered　it；　and　the　rest　will　be　divided　among　the　men　of　rank　first；　with　what’s　left　going　to　the　soldiers。　The　men　of　rank　are　the　ones　I’m　after。’
　
　All　the　top　rows　were　unloaded；　leaving　only　the　bottom　row；　which　the　men　stood　up　so　the　plugs　could　be　removed。
　
　‘Why　are　six　of　these　barrels　smaller？’
　
　They’re　rum；’　the　captain　said。
　
　‘Rum？　The　drink　of　nobility？’　Kahlan　smiled。　The　manders　will　take　the　rum　first。’　She　straightened　from　peering　into　one　of　the　open　casks。　‘Chandalen；　will　they　be　able　to　taste　it？　Will　the　taste　give　them　warning；　if　I　put　more　in　some？’
　
　He　dipped　a　finger　in　a　cask　of　rum；　and　sucked　it　clean。　‘No。　This　is　bitter　enough。　Bitter　things　hide　the　taste　of　bandu。’
　
　Kahlan　used　her　knife　point　to　divide　the　poison　from　Chandalen’s　box　into　sixths。　She　swished　each　sixth　off　her　knife　point　into　the　round　opening　in　one　of　the　smaller　casks　…　those　with　the　rum。
　
　Chandalen　watched　what　she　was　doing。　That　much；　in　the　smaller　barrels；　will　probably　kill　them　by　morning；　the　next　day　for　sure。　But　now　you　have　none　for　the　other　six。’
　
　Kahlan　handed　Chandalen　back　his　bone　box　with　a　little　of　the　bandu　left　in　the　ers　and　climbed　down　from　the　dray。　‘Six　of　the　casks　of　ale　will　have　no　poison　so　that　we　can　be　sure　the　rum　will　kill　those　who　drink　it。’　She　put　a　knife　point　laden　with　poison　from　Tossidin’s　box　into　each　of　the　next　twelve。　‘Mix　all　the　barrels　up。　I　don’t　want　the　rum　on　the　bottom。　The　manders　might　not　see　it　and　take　the　ale　instead。’
　
　Kahlan　went　to　the　last　twelve　and　opened　Prindin’s　box。　She　looked　up。　‘You　don’t　have　very　much。　What　have　you　done　with　yours？’
　
　Prindin　looked　as　though　he　wished　she　hadn’t　asked　that　question。　He　gestured　vaguely。　‘When　we　left；　I　was　not　thinking　so　good。　You　were　in　a　hurry；　and　so　I　forgot　to　see　that　my　bandu　box　was　full。’
　
　Chandalen　put　his　fists　on　his　hips　and　glared　down　from　atop　the　wagon。　‘Prindin；　how　many　times　have　I　said　that　you　would　forget　to　take　your　feet　could　you　walk　away　without　them？’
　
　‘It　doesn’t　matter；’　Kahlan　said。　Prindin　looked　relieved　to　have　her　interrupt　Chandalen’s　questioning。　‘This　will　make　them　sick。　That　is　all　that　matters。’
　
　As　she　was　putting　it　in　the　barrels；　she　heard　men　in　the　distance　hailing　her。　When　she　had　swirled　the　poison　into　the　last　barrel；　she　looked　up　to　see　two　huge　draft　horses　trotting　toward　her。　She　frowned　at　seeing　men　riding　them　bareback；　and　calling　out　to　her。
　
　The　two　powerful　draft　horses　looked　shaggy　in　their　thick；　dun…colored　winter　coats；　with　heavy　white　feathering　on　their　legs。　They　wore　their　harnesses　and　neck　collars；　but　not　their　breeching。　Several　bends　of　chain　were　looped　over　the　inside　hame　of　each　collar。　The　men　about　all　stared　at　the　odd　sight。
　
　When　the　horses　came　to　a　halt　before　her；　the　riders　un…　hooked　the　loops　of　chain　and　dropped　them　to　the　ground。　She　realized　then　that　the　horses　were　connected　by　that　chain；　attached　to　the　hame　hooks　on　their　collars。　She　had　never　seen　such　a　thing。　The　two　riders　slid　to　the　ground。
　
　‘Mother　Confessor！’　Their　grins　made　their　salutes　look　a　little　silly。　The　both　of　them　were　gangly；　with　short…cropped　brown　hair。　Neither　looked　as　if　he　could　be　fifteen。　Their　wool　coats　were　unbuttoned　in　the　warming　day；　and　fit　them　like　gunnysacks　on　lapdogs。　They　both　looked　about　to　burst　with　excitement。　They　halted　before　getting　too　close；　but　even　their　fear　of　her　couldn’t　wither　their　breathless　excitement。
　
　‘What　are　your　names？’
　
　‘I’m　Brin　Jackson　and　this　is　Peter　Chapman；　Mother　Confessor。　We　had　an　idea；　and　we　wanted　to　show　you。　We　think　it’ll　do　the　job。　We’re　sure　it　will。　It’ll　work　some　clever　it　sure　will。’
　
　Kahlan　looked　from　one　beaming　face　to　the　other。　‘What　will　do　what　job？’
　
　Brin　almost　leapt　with　joy　at　being　asked。　He　hefted　the　chain　lying　in　the　snow　between　the　big　horses。　‘This！’　He　lugged　a　wad　of　chain　to　her　and　held　it　out。　‘This　will　do　it；　Mother　Confessor。　We　thought　of　it　ourselves！　Peter　and　me。’　He　dumped　the　heavy　chain　on　the　ground。　‘Show　her；　Peter。　Move　‘em　apart。’
　
　Peter’s　head　bobbed　as　he　grinned。　He　sidestepped　his　horse　until　the　heavy　chain　lifted　off　the　snow。　The　sag　of　chain　swung　to　and　fro　between　the　hame　hooks　on　the　collars。　Kahlan　and　all　the　men　with　her　frowned；　trying　to　understand　what　the　peculiar　rig　was　for。
　
　Brin　pointed　at　the　chain。　‘You　said　we　were　going　to　leave　the　wagons；　and　we　surely　didn’t　want　to　leave　Daisy　and　Pip　behind。　Them’s　our　horses　…　Daisy　and　Pip。　We’re　drivers。　We　wanted　to　help；　and　make　a　good　use　of　Daisy　and　Pip；　so　we　took　some　of　the　biggest　trace　chains　and　asked　Morvan；　he’s　the　blacksmith；　we　asked　Morvan　to　weld　a　couple　of　‘em　together　for　us。’　He　nodded　expectantly；　as　if　that　should　explain　it。
　
　Kahlan　dipped　her　head　toward　him　a　little。　‘And　now　that　he　has？’
　
　Brin　held　his　hands　open　in　excitement。　‘You　said　we　needed　to　take　out　their　horses。’　He　couldn’t　help　giggling。　That’s　what　this　is　for！　You　said　we’re　going　to　attack　at　night。　Their　horses　will　be　tethered　to　picket　lines。　We　gallop　Daisy　and　Pip　down　the　picket　line；　one　on　each　side；　and　the　chain’ll　break　their　legs　out　from　under　‘em！　We’ll　take　out　the　whole　line　in　one　sweep！’
　
　Kahlan　leaned　back　and　folded　her　arms。　She　looked　to　Peter。　He　nodded；　keen　on　the　idea；　too。　‘Brin；　having　horses　chained　together　like　that；　at　a　gallop；　and　dragging　a　chain　that　will　be　catching　things；　heavy　things；　sounds　to　me　very　dangerous。’
　
　He　wilted　only　a　little。　‘But　it　could　take　out　their　horses！　We　can　do　it！　We　can　get　them　for　you！’
　
　‘They　have　close　to　two　thousand　horses。’
　
　Peter　wilted　more。　Brin　scrunched　up　his　face　as　he　looked　at　the　ground　for　the　first　time。　He　scratched　his　shoulder。　Two　thousand；’　he　finally　whispered　in　disappointment。
　
　Kahlan　glanced　to　Captain　Ryan。　He　shrugged　as　if　to　say　he　didn’t　know　if　it　would　work　or　not。　The　other　men　standing　about　rubbed　their　chins　and　shuffled　their　feet　as　they　pondered　the　rig。
　
　‘It　will　never　do；’　Kahlan　said　at　last。　Brin’s　shoulders　slumped　more。　There　are　too　many　of　them　for　you。　You　will　need　more　horses　set　up　like　this。’　Brin　and　Peter’s　faces　came　up；　their　eyes　widening。　‘Since　you　two　know　how　to　do　it；　I　want　you　to　get　all　the　draft　horses　and　their　drivers　together。　This　will　be　the　best　use　of　their　skill。
　
　‘Use　all　the　equipment　off　the　wagons　or　breeching　you　need。　We’ll　not　be　taking　them　anyway。　Have　the　chains　made　up　at　once；　and　then　I　want　you　all　to　practice　the　rest　of　the　day。　I　want　you　to　set　up　things　to　drag　the　chains　through。　Heavy　thing；　so　the　horses　will　be　used　to　what　you’re　going　to　do。　You　need　to　practice　so　each　team　of　men　and　horses　can　work　together。’
　
　Peter　came　forward　and　stood　next　to　a　beaming　Brin。　‘We　will；　Mother　Confessor！　You’ll　see！　We　can　do　it！　You　can　count　on　us！’
　
　She　gave　them　each　a　sobering　look。　‘What　you　want　to　do　is　dangerous。　But　if　you　can　do　it；　it　will　be　a　great　benefit　to　us。　It　could　save　many　of　our　lives。　Their　cavalry　is　deadly。
　
　Take　your　gear　and　your　practice　seriously。　Men　will　be　trying　to　kill　you　when　you　do　it　for　real。’
　
　They　put　their　fists　to　their　hearts；　this　time　holding　their　chins　up。　‘We’ll　see　to　it；　Mother　Confessor。　You　can　count　on　the　drivers。　We　won’t　let　you　down。　We’ll　get　their　horses。’
　
　After　receiving　her　nod；　they　turned　to　their　horses。　Heads　together；　whispering　in　excitement；　they　went　to　their　task。　Kahlan　watched　a　lone　rider；　in　the　distance；　galloping　through　the　camp。　He　stopped　to　ask　a　group　of　men　something。　They　pointed　in　her　direction。
　
　They’ve　only　been　with　us　a　couple　months；’　Captain　Ryan　said。　They’re　just　boys。’
　
　Kahlan　raised　an　eyebrow　to　him。　They　are　men；　fighting　for　the　Midlands。　When　I　first　saw　you；　I　thought　of　you　in　much　the　same　way　you　see　them。　Now　I　think　you　look　a　little　older　to　me。’
　
　He　sighed。　‘I　guess　you’re　right。　If　they　really　can　do　the　job；　it　will　be　a　brilliant　achievement。’
　
　The　galloping　rider　approached　and　leapt　from　his　horse　before　it　ca