"I swore a covenant that I was dead, and could only be returned to life when the men who committed those crimes were punished. The men with me gave up their lives too, to live again only if we succeeded. One in five of those young men returned to the living with Chandalen and me. But before we did, every one of the men who murdered the people of Ebinissia died.

"I understand such an oath as you have given, Du Chaillu. Such a thing is sacred and not to be ignored. You and the blade masters may come with us."

Du Chaillu bowed to Kahlan. "Thank you for honoring my people's ways. You are a wise woman, and worthy of being wife to my husband, too." • Richard rolled his eyes. "Kahlan-"

"The Mud People need Chandalen and his men. Cara is doing as you ask of her, and going to General Reibisch and then on to Aydindril. Until the general can send men to join with us, we will be alone and vulnerable. Du Chaillu and her men will be valuable and welcome protection.

"With so much at stake, Richard, our pride is the last thing we need to be considering. They are coming."

Richard took in Cara's blue eyes, icy cold with resolve. She wanted this. Du Chaillu's dark eyes were iron hard. Her mind was made up. Kahlan's green eyes… well, he didn't want to even think about what was in her green eyes.

"All right," he said. "Until the soldiers can reach us, you may come along."

Du Chaillu directed a puzzled look at Kahlan. "Does he always tell you, too, things you already know?"

Fitch, his head bowed, could see Master Spink's legs and feet as he walked among the benches, his boots making a slow thunk, thunk, thunk against the plank floor. Around the room, a few people, mainly the older women, sniffled as they wept quietly to themselves.

Fitch couldn't blame them. He, too, was occasionally reduced to weeping at penance assembly. The lessons they learned were necessary if they were to fight their evil Haken ways-he understood that-but that didn't make listening any easier.

When Master Spink lectured, Fitch preferred to look at the floor rather than by chance meet the man's gaze. To meet the gaze of an Ander as he taught the horrors of what was done to his ancestors by Fitch's was shaming.

"And so it was," Master Spink went on, "that the Haken horde came by chance upon that poor farming village. The menfolk, with frantic concern for their families, had gathered together with those other simple Ander men from farms and other villages around. Together, they prayed to the Creator that their effort to repulse the bloodthirsty invaders might succeed.

"In desperation, they had already left nearly all their foodstuffs and livestock as a peaceful offering for the Hakens. They had sent messengers to explain the offerings, and that they wished no war, but none of those brave messengers ever returned.

"So it was a simple plan these men had, to go to the crest of a hill and wave their weapons overhead to make a show of strength, not to invite a fight, of course, but in an urgent effort to convince the Hakens to pass their villages by. These men were farmers, not warriors, and the weapons they waved were simple farm tools. They didn't want a fight; they wanted peace.

"So, there they were, those men I've taught you about- Shelby, Willan, Camden, Edgar, Newton, Kenway, and all the rest-all those good and kind men who you have come to know over these last few weeks as I've told you their stories, their loves, their lives, their hopes, their simple and decent dreams. There they were, up there on that hill, hoping for no more than to convince the Haken brutes to pass them by. There they were, waving their tools-their axes, their hoes, their sickles, their forks, their flails-waving them in the air, hoping to keep those wives and children you've also come to know safe from harm."

Thump, thump, thump went Master Spink's boots as he came closer to Fitch.

“The Haken army did not choose to pass those simple men by. The Hakens instead, laughing and hooting, turned their Dominie Dirtch on those gentle Ander men."

Some of the girls gasped. Others wailed aloud. Fitch himself felt a twist of fear in his gut, and a lump in his throat. He had to sniffle himself as he imagined their gruesome death. He had come to know those men on the hill. He knew their wives' names, their parents' names, and their children.

"And while those murderous Haken bastards in their fine, fancy uniforms"-Fitch could see the boots halt right beside him where he sat on the end of the bench near the center aisle-"stood laughing, stood cheering, the Dominie Dirtch rang out with its terrible violence, tearing the flesh from those men's bones."

Fitch could feel Master Spink's dark-eyed glare on the back of his neck as the women and many of the men sobbed their grief aloud.

"The wails of those poor Ander farmboys rose into the Ander sky. It was their last scream in this life, as their bodies were torn apart by the excellently dressed, laughing, jeering Haken horde with their weapon of heartless slaughter, the Dominie Dirtch."

One of the older women cried out with the horror of it. Master Spink still stood over Fitch. Right at that moment, Fitch wasn't as proud of his messenger garb as he had been earlier, when the other people had whispered to each other in astonishment as he took his seat.

"I see you have yourself a fine new uniform, Fitch," Master Spink said in a voice that made Fitch's blood go cold.

Fitch knew he was expected to say something.

"Yes, sir. Though I was a lowly Haken scullion, Master Campbell was kind enough to give me a job as a messenger. He wants me to wear this uniform so all Hakens might see that with Ander help we can do better. He also wants the messengers to reflect well on his office as we help in his work of spreading the word of the- Minister of Culture's good work for our people.”

Master Spink cuffed Fitch on the side of the head, knocking him from the bench. "Don't talk back to me! I'm not interested in your Haken excuses!"

"I'm sorry, sir." He knew better than to get up from his hands and knees.

"Hakens always have excuses for their crimes of hate. You're wearing a fancy uniform, just like those murderous Haken overlords enjoyed wearing, and you enjoy it the same as they, and then you try to make it seem as if you don't.

"To this day, we Anders suffer grievously under the unceasing scourge of Haken hate. Without question, every look from a Haken conveys it. We can never be free of it. There are always Hakens in uniforms they enjoy wearing to remind us of the Haken overlords.

"You prove your filthy Haken nature by trying to defend the indefensible-your self-centered arrogance, your pride in yourself, your pride in a uniform. You all hunger to be Haken overlords. Everyday, as Anders, we must suffer such Haken abuse."

"Forgive me, Master Spink. I was wrong. I wore it out of pride. I was wrong to let my sinful Haken nature rule me."

Master Spink grunted his contempt, but then went on with the lesson. Knowing he deserved more, Fitch sighed, grateful to be let — off so easy.

"With the menfolk murdered, that left the women and children of the village defenseless."

The boots thunk, thunk, thunked as the man started out again, walking among the Hakens sitting on simple benches. Only after he had started away did Fitch dare to get up off his hands and knees and once more take his seat on the bench. His ear chimed something awful, like when Beata had struck him. Master Spink's words bored through that hollow ringing.

"Being Hakens, of course, they decided to go through the village and have their wicked fun."

"No!" a woman in back cried out. She fell to sobbing.

Hands clasped behind his back, Master Spink walked on, ignoring the interruption. There were frequently such interruptions.