They advocate the killing of all those who don't bow to their beliefs. The ideas of these men are the spark that ignites murder. Were it not for those teachings, they would not be here killing people.
"The Order is a viper that exists because of their beliefs, their ideas, their teachings. That viper stretches here all the way from the heart of the Old World. From this moment on, your objective is to behead this snake. Kill every man who preaches their beliefs. If they give a speech, the next morning I want their body found in the middle of a very public place, and I want it to be clear to all that they did not die of natural causes. I want it known that professing the beliefs of the Order is asking for a swift death.
"How you kill them is irrelevant, but kill them we must. When they are dead they can no longer spread their poison and raise the passions of other men to kill us. That is your job: kill them. The less time you take killing one, the sooner you can kill others.
"Keep in mind, though, that the high priests of the Fellowship of Order are gifted. While you must be cautious and aware that these men are wizards, also keep in mind that even such wizards still have hearts that pump blood through their veins. An arrow will kill them as surely as any other man.
"I know, because not long ago I was nearly killed by an arrow fired in a surprise attack on my camp." Richard gestured to the two woman behind him. "I was fortunate in that Cara and Nicci were there to save my life. The point is that, despite their power, these men are vulnerable. You can eliminate them.
"After all, how often have I heard you men say that you will be the steel against steel so that I can be the magic against magic? Implicit in that maxim is the fundamental truth that the gifted are mortal and vulnerable to the same perils as all men.
"I know that you and your men will find ways to eliminate these men. I want every man who preaches the hate of the Order's beliefs to find that death is the consequence. There must be no doubt of the hard truth that they are not going to escape that fate just because they are gifted. You and your men are to deliver that truth to them.
"This is, after all, about truth and illusion, a battle over which of those concepts mankind will serve. They preach an illusion of beliefs in things that are not real, of faith and fantasy, of kingdoms in other worlds, of punishments and rewards after we no longer exist. They kill to force people to bow to that faith.
"The counter to that is the reality of our promise of the consequence of harming us. That promise must be kept. That promise must be true. If we fail in this struggle, then mankind will slip into a long, dark age."
Richard looked out over the silent men and spoke quietly, but in a tone that every man heard. "I am counting on the experience and judgment of you men to accomplish what we must. If you see something you think is useful to them, destroy it. If anyone tries to get in your way, kill them. I want their crops, homes, towns, and cities burned to the ground. I want to see the Old World burning all the way from here. I don't want one brick left standing atop another. I want the Old World to suffer such ruin that they no longer possess the ability to extend their murderous intent to others. I want their will to fight broken. I want their spirits crushed.
"I trust that you men will be able to come up with ways to accomplish all this. Don't be limited by what I tell you. Think about what is a valuable resource to them and what would make it a good target for us. Think of how best to carry out your new orders."
He watched the eyes of men who were being called upon to do what they had never expected would be their job. "There will be no final battle with the army of the Order. We will not face them in the way they wish. Instead, we will haunt them into their graves."
The gathered officers all clapped fists to their hearts.
Richard turned again to Captain Zimmer. "You have my orders as to your specific objective. Be ruthless. There is to be no alternative allowed for these men. Their death is the only result that is acceptable. Make it swift, sure, and without mercy."
Captain Zimmer stood tall. "Thank you, Lord Rahl, for allowing me and my men to rid the world of those who preach this poison."
"There's one other thing I'd like you and your men to do for me."
"Yes, Lord Rahl?"
"Bring me their ears."
Captain Zimmer smiled as he put a fist to his heart. "There will be no escape or mercy for them, Lord Rahl. I will bring you proof."
As they put their minds to their new goal, the officers all began coming forward with suggestions for both targets and methods of destroying them. Their enthusiasm enlivened their faces, as if they had gotten so used to the idea that there was no choice but to be worn down by an implacable enemy, that their faces had taken on creases as they sagged with the burden. Now Richard could see a new vigor in them, an excitement that there was a solution, an end in sight.
Men offered ideas of salting fields, poisoning water supplies with rotting, infected carcasses and corpses, destroying dams, cutting down orchards, slaughtering livestock, and torching mills. Nicci discouraged some suggestions, explaining why they wouldn't work or would involve too much effort, and offered alternatives in their place. She refined other ideas to make them more devastating.
To a degree, Richard was sickened by the things he heard and the knowledge that he was the architect of such mayhem, but then he thought about the vision Shota had given him of Kahlan, of how those very horrors and more were real for uncounted innocent people, and he was gratified that they were at last striking back in a way that had a chance to end such horrors. The Order, after all, had brought this on themselves.
"Time is of the essence," Richard told the officers and gathered Sisters. "Every day that passes the Order captures more places, subjugates, tortures, rapes, and murders yet more people."
"I agree," General Meiffert said. "This can't be a march south."
"No, it can't," Richard said. "I want you to ride fast and strike hard. The Order has a huge army and everywhere they go in the New World falls to their swords. But, because of their size, they are ponderous. It takes them a long time to move across the land. Jagang uses his slow speed as a tactic; it makes each city that lies in his path suffer the agony of waiting, imagining what will become of them. It gives fear time to build until it is unendurable.
"We actually have an advantage in that if we use cavalry and keep the units small and nimble, we can strike like lightning in one place after another. They seek to roll in on cities, envelop, and occupy them. We must not be drawn into that kind of drain on manpower and effort. We must simply lay waste to everything we can and then immediately move on to the next target. We must make everyone in the Old World feel fear, feel that there is no safety from our vengeance."
A bearded officer gestured out at the camp. "There's not nearly enough horses to turn the whole army into cavalry."
"Then you need to quickly find horses for all the men," Cara said. "Get them wherever you can."
The officer scratched his beard as he considered. He smiled at Cara. "Don't you worry, we'll find a way to do just that."
Another man spoke up. "I know of a number of places in D'Hara where horses are raised. I think we can gather what we'll need in relatively short order." When Richard nodded his approval, he tapped a fist to his heart. "I'll see to it immediately," he said before making his way out into the rain.
"The army needs to be broken into smaller units," Richard said to General Meiffert after the officer hurried past. "We don't want them to stay together in a large force."