"But we sent dust clouds at them before," Kahlan said. "Dust to make them sick and such. They mostly countered it."

Verna held up a finger to note her point as she smiled a grim smile.

"But those were dust clouds containing magic. Mother Confessor, this does not. Don't you see? It's so light it floats in the air for a long time. We could use simple magic to cast it up into the air, and then withdraw the magic, or we could simply fling it up into the breeze, for that matter.

Either way, we have only to let their troops run through it."

"All right." Kahlan scratched an eyebrow. "But what will it do to them?"

"It will get in their eyes," Adie said in her raspy voice from behind Kahlan's shoulder.

"That's right," Verna said. "It gets in their eyes, just as any dust would. At first, it will feel like dust in their eyes and they will try to blink it away. However, since the fragments are all still jagged and razor sharp, they will instead embed themselves in the body's tissue. It will stick in their eyes, and build up under their eyelids, where it will make thousands of tiny cuts across their eyes with each blink. The more they blink, the more it eats away at their delicate eyes." Verna straightened and pulled her cloak together. "It will blind them."

Kahlan sat in numb disbelief at the madness of it all.

"Are you sure?" Cara asked. "Might it just irritate them, like gritty dust?"

"We know for sure," Verna said. "We. . had an accident, and know all too well what it does. It may do more damage when it gets in the throat, the lungs, and the gut-we don't know about that, yet-but we do know for sure that such special glass, if we grind it to just the right size particles, will float in the air and people passing through the cloud will be blinded in remarkably short order. As long as we can blind a man, he can't fight. It may not kill them, but as long as they are blind they can't kill us, or fight back as we kill them."

Cara, usually gleeful at the prospect of killing the enemy, did not seem so, now. "We would have but to line them up and butcher them."

Kahlan put her head in her hands, covering her eyes.

"You want me to approve its use, don't you? That's why you're here."

Verna said nothing. Kahlan looked up at last.

"That's what you want, isn't it?"

"Mother Confessor, I need not tell you that the Sisters of the Light abhor harming people. However, this is a war for our very existence, for the very existence of free people. We know it must be done. If Richard were here

. . I just thought that you would want to be made aware of this, and be the one to give such orders."

Kahlan stared at the woman, understanding then why she was holding her hand over a pain in her stomach.

"Do you know, Prelate," Kahlan said in a near whisper, "that I killed a child today? Not by accident, but on purpose. I would do it again without hesitation. But that won't make me sleep any better."

"A child? It was truly necessary to. . kill a child?"

"His name was Lyle. I believe you know him. He was another one of the victims of Ann's Sisters of the Light."

Verna, her face gone ashen, closed her eyes against the news.

"I guess if I can kill a child," Kahlan said, "I can easily enough give the orders for you to use your special glass against the monsters who would use a child as a weapon. I have sworn no mercy, and I meant it."

Adie laid a gnarled hand on Kahlan's shoulder.

"Kahlan," Verna said in a gentle voice, "I can understand how you feel.

Ann used me, too, and I didn't understand why. I thought she used everyone for her own selfish purposes. For a time, I thought her a despicable person.

You have every reason to believe as you do."

"But I would be wrong, Verna? Is that what you were going to add? I'd not be so sure, were I you. You didn't have to kill a little boy today."

Verna nodded in sympathy but didn't argue.

"Adie," Kahlan asked, "do you think there would be anything you might be able to do for the woman who was accidentally blinded? Perhaps you could help her?"

Adie nodded. "That be a good idea. Verna, take me to her, and let me see what I can do."

Kahlan cocked her head as the two women moved toward the tent opening.

"Did you hear that?"

"The horn?" Verna asked.

"Yes. It sounds like alarm horns."

Verna squinted in concentration. She turned her head to the side, listening attentively.

"Yes, it does sound like alarm horns," she finally declared, "but it doesn't have the right trace of magic through it. The enemy does that often-tries to get us to act based on false alarms. We've been having more and more lately."

Kahlan frowned. "We have? Why?"

"Why. . what?"

Kahlan stood. "If we know they're false alarms, and they don't work, then why would the Order increase the attempts? That makes no sense."

Verna's gaze roved about as as if searching in vain for an answer.

"Well, I don't know. I can't imagine. I'm no expert in the tactics of warfare."

Cara turned to go have a look. "Maybe it's just some scouts coming back in."

Kahlan turned her head, listening. She heard horses running, but that wasn't so rare. It could be, as Cara suggested, scouts returning with reports. But, by the sound of the hooves, the horses sounded big.

She heard men yelling. The clash of steel rang out-along with cries of pain.

Kahlan drew her Galean royal sword as she started around the table.

Before any of them could get more than a step, the tent shuddered violently as something crashed against its walls. For an instant, the whole thing tipped at an impossible angle; then steel-tipped lances burst through the canvas. With a rush of wind the tent collapsed around them.

The heavy canvas drove Kahlan to the ground as it caved in. She couldn't get a grip on anything solid as the tent rolled her over and began dragging her along. Hooves thundered past, pounding the ground right beside her head.

She could smell lamp oil as it sloshed across the canvas. With a whoosh, the oil and the tent ignited. Kahlan coughed on the smoke. She could hear the crackle of flames. She could see nothing. She was trapped-rolled up in the bucking tent as it slid across the ground.

Tightly shrouded in stiff canvas, Kahlan couldn't see anything. She choked and gagged on the thick, acrid smoke burning her lungs. She pulled frantically at the canvas, trying to disentangle herself, but as she bounced and tumbled along the ground, she couldn't make any headway gaining her liberty. The heat of flames close to her face ignited in her a sense of panic. Her weariness forgotten, she kicked and struggled madly as she gasped for air.

"Where are you!"

It was Cara's voice. It sounded close, as if she, too, was being dragged along and strenuously engaged in her own fight for life. Cara was smart enough not to shout Kahlan's name or title when surrounded by the enemy; hopefully, Verna knew better, as well.

"Here!" Kahlan shouted in answer to Cara.

Kahlan's sword was trapped, pressed to her legs by the rolled canvas.

She managed to wiggle her left hand up onto the knife at her belt. She yanked it free. She had to turn her face to try to keep away from the heat of the oily flames. The smothering smoky blindness was terrifying.

With angry resolve, Kahlan stabbed at the canvas, punching her knife through. Just then, the tent hit something and they were bounced into the air. The hard landing knocked the wind from her lungs. A gasp pulled in suffocating smoke. Again, Kahlan plunged her knife into the heavy canvas and slashed an opening as her entire shroud erupted into flame.

She yelled again to Cara. "I can't get-"