“The swordsmen are for beginning our prime objective. Killing the enemy. They will first see to the enemy commanders, just in case they weren’t poisoned, and then after that, they will kill as many men as they can in the shortest possible time.”

They came to the dozen tents set up close together in a half circle. Kahlan checked inside them all to be sure they were equipped as she had ordered. Finished checking, she stood outside the largest and faced Captain Ryan.

“So, are you going to tell me, now, what it is we’re to paint?”

Kahlan nodded. “Those thousand swordsmen.”

He stared, dumfounded. “We’re going to paint the men? Why?”

“It’s simple. D’Harans fear spirits. They fear the spirits of the foes they kill, that’s why they drag the bodies of their fallen comrades away from a battle site, like Ebinissia.

“Tonight, their fears are going to come to haunt them. They are going to be attacked by the thing they fear most: spirits.”

“But they will recognize us as soldiers, simply with white clothes, not as spirits.”

Kahlan looked at Captain Ryan from under her eyebrows. “They will not be wearing clothes. They will have nothing but their swords, painted white, just as are they. They will remove their clothes just before the attack.”

His mouth dropped open. “What?”

“I want you to get the swordsmen together, now, and assemble them here. They’re to go into the tents, remove their clothes, and dip themselves in the whitewash. After dunking themselves, they will stand near the hot rocks until dry. It won’t take long. Then they can put their clothes back on. Until the attack.”

Captain Ryan stood in shock. “But it’s winter. They’ll freeze without clothes.”

“We have a break in the bitter cold. Besides, the cold will remind them to rush in and rush back out. I don’t want them to stay in that camp very long. The enemy will recover from their shock in short order, and set upon any invader. I want our men to attack, kill terrified D’Harans, and escape.

“As I said, D’Harans fear spirits. When they see what they will at first think is their worst fear, they will be stunned. Their first thought will be to run, not to fight. Men die as easily from a sword through the back as through the front. Some will freeze in place, not knowing what to do. Even those who recognize the invaders as men painted white, and not as spirits, will be confused for a moment.

“Those few seconds of confusion, as we come upon each new group, are the seconds we need to run them through. In battle, the difference between killing, and being killed, is often a single moment of indecision.

The swordsmen are not to engage in fights. If challenged, they’re to run on to others. There are more than enough to kill; it’s a mistake to waste time engaging in battle, if it can be avoided. I simply want enemy soldiers killed. After the commanders are dead, it doesn’t matter which ones. I don’t want our men fighting unless forced to; that only risks their lives needlessly.

“Rush in, kill as many men as possible, and rush out. Those are to be the orders.”

Captain Ryan frowned as he considered. “I never thought I would hear myself say it, but I think it sounds like it might be an outlandishly successful tactic. The men aren’t going to like it at first, but they’ll follow orders. I’ll explain it to them, and then I know they’ll feel a little better about it.

“I’ve never heard of such a thing, and I’m sure the enemy hasn’t either.” He at last smiled a sly smile. “It’s sure to surprise them, no doubt about that.”

Kahlan was relieved he had come around to that much of it. “Good. I’m pleased to have the enthusiasm of a captain in the Galean army. In the Midlands army.

“Now, I want you to have my horse’s saddle and tack brought here, and dipped in the whitewash. And please post some guards outside this tent, while I’m inside.”

His eyes widened. “Your saddle?… You’re not… Mother Confessor… You can’t be serious.”

“I would not ask my men to do something I myself would not do. They need to have a commander to rally around in their first battle. I intend to lead them.”

Captain Ryan took a step back. He was aghast. He regained the step. “But Mother Confesser… you’re a woman. And not in any way an ugly woman.” Seemingly involuntarily, he took a quick glance the length of her. “In fact, you are… Mother Confessor, forgive me.” He fell silent.

“They are soldiers with a mission. Make your point, Captain.”

His face filled with blood. These are young men, Mother Confessor. They are… Well, you can’t expect… They are young men.” His jaw moved as he tried to find words. They won’t be able to help themselves. Mother Confessor, please. You’ll be embarrassed beyond all tolerance.” He winced, hoping he wouldn’t have to explain further.

She gave him a small smile to try to ease his horror. “Captain, have you ever heard the legend of the Shahari?” He shook his head. “When the tribes and lands now called D’Hara were being forged together, the method of conquest and joining were much the same as it is with the Imperial Order—join with them, or be conquered. The Shahari people refused to join into D’Hara, and they refused to be conquered.

They fought so fiercely that they came to be greatly feared by the D’Haran troops, who outnumbered them many times over. The Shahari loved nothing more than fighting. They were so fearless and aroused about going into war that they went into battle naked and, well… aroused.”

Kahlan looked up to see Captain Ryan staring, mouth agape. She went on. The D’Harans all know the legend of the Shahari. They all, to this day, fear the Shahari.” She cleared her throat. “If the men go into battle, and… that… happens, it will only bring greater fear to the men of the Order.

“I don’t think, though, that the men need fear being embarrassed. They will have more pressing matters on their minds, like not being killed. And if it does happen, well then, they should know it pleases me because it will only strike greater fear into the hearts of our enemy.”

Captain Ryan finally looked to the ground and pushed snow with his boot. “Forgive me, Mother Confessor, but I still don’t like it. It puts you at danger for nothing of much gain.”

That’s not true. There are two more important reasons I must do this. First, when I left the Order’s camp last night I was being chased by about fifty men. The D’Hafans have no doubt that those fifty men will catch me, and kill me.”

The captain stiffened. “You mean there are fifty men roaming around looking for you?”

“No. They’re all dead. To a man. But the men back at camp don’t know that. When they see me, all white, like a spirit, they will think I was killed, as I should have been, and that it’s my spirit in their midst. It will only frighten them further.”

“All fifty… !” He peered up at her. “And what’s the second reason?”

Kahlan stared at him for a moment. Her voice came softly. “When those men of the Order see me, whether they think me a spirit or they think me a naked woman on a horse before them, they will stare. While they are staring, they cannot kill our men. But we can kill them. It will divert their attention from the men, to me.”

He gazed silently at her as she went on. “I would be willing to suffer any embarrassment,” she said, “if it will save the life of even one of our men. I must do this to help them, and to keep them alive.”

He looked to the ground as he put his hands in his pockets.

“I never knew the Mother Confessor was a person who cared this much for her people,” he whispered. “I never knew before, that she cared at all what happened to any of us.” He looked up at last. “Is there anything at all I can say to talk you out of doing this?”

Kahlan smiled. “There’s only one man in the world who could keep me from doing this, and you are not him.” She laughed quietly. “In fact, if he knew what I was about to do, I’m sure he would forbid it.”