tg.stone of tears-第183部分

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　‘I’m　leaving；　then；’　Mosle　called　out　to　the　others。　He　thrust　his　fist　in　the　air。　‘I’ll　follow　no　woman　into　battle；　no　matter　who　she　is！　Who’s　leaving　with　me！’
　
　About　sixty　or　seventy　men　gathered　about　cheered　their　support　for　him。
　
　‘Go；　then；’　Kahlan　manded。　‘Before　you　bee　caught　up　in　a　battle　you　do　not　believe　in。’
　
　Having　made　their　choice；　Mosle　and　the　men　with　him　cast　her　glares　of　contempt。　He　swaggered　forward。　‘We’ll　leave　as　soon　as　we　can　get　our　things　together。　We’ll　not　be　rushed　out　on　your　word。’
　
　The　men　in　the　crowd　pushed　in。　Before　it　came　to　blows　Kahlan　held　her　hand　up。　‘Stop！　Let　them　be。　They’ve　made　their　choice。　Let　them　get　their　things　and　be　gone。’
　
　Mosle　turned　and　pushed　his　way　back　through　the　throng；　his　new　men　in　tow。　As　they　left　the　gathered　soldiers；　Kahlan　carefully　counted　their　numbers。　Sixty…seven。　Sixty…seven　who　would　leave。
　
　She　looked　out　at　all　the　faces。　Any　more？　Do　any　more　wish　to　leave？’　No　one　moved　a　muscle。　Then　do　all　of　you　wish　to　join　in　this　fight？’　A　united　cheer　went　up。　‘So　be　it。　I　wish　I　did　not　have　to　call　upon　you　men　to　do　this；　but　there　is　no　one　else　to　ask。　My　heart　weeps　for　those　of　you　who　will　die。　Know　that　none　of　those　who　live　will　ever　forget　the　sacrifice　you　make　for　them　and　the　people　of　the　Midlands。’
　
　From　the　corner　of　her　eye；　she　watched　the　sixty…seven　men　moving　among　the　wagons；　taking　the　supplies　they　thought　they　would　need。　And　now；　to　what　must　be　done。’
　
　Slowly；　she　shook　her　head。　‘You　men　must　understand　what　it　is　I　call　upon　you　to　do。　It　is　no　glorious　battle；　as　you　think；　where　you　move　like　pieces　on　a　game　board。　No　tactics　to　outwit　an　opponent　in　a　grand　engagement。　We　will　not　face　them　in　the　field　of　battle；　but　kill　them　in　every　other　way。’
　
　‘But　Mother　Confessor；’　someone　near　the　front　timidly　called　out；　‘it’s　the　code　of　honor　for　soldiers　to　face　one　another　in　battle；　to　best　him　in　a　fair　fight。’
　
　There　is　nothing　fair　about　having　to　fight　in　war。　The　only　fair　thing　would　be　to　live　in　peace。　The　purpose　of　war　is　singular：　to　kill。
　
　‘You　must　all　understand　this；　for　it’s　central　to　your　survival。　There　is　no　honor　in　killing；　no　matter　the　method。　Dead　is　dead。　Killing　your　enemy　in　war　is　done　to　protect　the　lives　of　those　for　whom　you　fight。　Their　lives　are　no　better　protected　by　killing　your　enemy　sword　to　sword　than　by　slaying　him　while　he　sleeps；　but　only　put　at　risk　by　it。
　
　There　is　no　glory　in　this　task。　It’s　an　onerous　deed。　We　do　not　intend　to　give　them　a　chance　to　engage　in　pitched　battle；　to　see　who　is　the　better　at　the　game。　Our　chore　is　simply　to　kill　them。
　
　‘If　you　have　difficulty　seeing　the　right　of　this；　then　I　call　upon　you　to　consider　the　honor　of　the　soldiers　you　are　up　against。　Consider　them　as　they　stood　waiting　in　gangs　to　rape　your　mothers　and　sisters。　Consider　what　your　mothers　and　sisters　in　Ebinissia　thought　of　honor　as　they　were　tortured　and　raped　and　slaughtered。’
　
　The　chill　of　her　words　sent　visible　shudders　through　the　stone…silent　men。　Kahlan　had　to　restrain　herself　from　bringing　any　more　horror　to　their　eyes；　but　before　her　still　floated　the　vision　of　the　young　women　in　the　palace。
　
　‘If　the　enemy　is　looking　the　other　way；　so　much　the　better；　because　they　will　not　thrust　a　knife　into　you。　If　it　is　from　a　distance；　with　an　arrow；　so　much　the　better；　because　they　will　not　have　a　chance　to　impale　you　on　an　argon。　If　it　is　while　they　have　food　in　their　mouths；　so　much　the　better；　because　they　will　not　be　able　to　raise　an　alarm。　If　it　is　while　they　are　sleeping；　so　much　the　better；　because　they　will　not　have　a　chance　to　cleave　you　with　their　sword。
　
　‘Last　night；　my　horse　crushed　the　head　of　one　of　the　D’Haran　manders。　There　was　no　glory　in　that；　no　honor；　only　the　knowledge　that　perhaps　that　deed　will　prevent　some　of　you　from　dying　by　his　hand　and　wits。　In　that；　my　heart　sings　with　joy。　Joy　that　maybe　it　has　saved　some　of　your　precious　lives。
　
　‘What　we　do　is　done　to　save　the　lives　of　men　and　women　yet　alive　and　yet　unborn。　You　saw　what　was　done　to　the　people　in　Ebinissia。　Remember　the　faces　of　those　dead。　Remember　the　way　they　died；　and　the　horror　they　suffered　before　they　did。　Remember　those　soldiers　captured；　and　beheaded。
　
　‘It　is　up　to　us　to　prevent　that　from　happening　to　any　more　people。　To　do　that；　we　must　kill　these　men。　There　is　no　glory　in　the　doing。　Only　survival。’
　
　In　the　back；　two　men　gestured　obscenely　to　those　around　them　and　walked　off　to　join　with　Mosle’s　men。　Sixty…nine。　But　the　rest　stood　in　firm　resolution　to　take　up　the　fight。
　
　The　time　had　e。　She　had　dissuaded　them　from　their　raw　thoughts　of　glorious　battle；　and　told　them　of　the　true　nature　of　their　task。　She　had　brought　most　to　an　understanding　of　the　larger　temper　of　the　battle　ahead。　She　had　told　them　some　of　what　must　be　done。　She　had　brought　them　to　a　more　focused　understanding　of　their　importance　in　the　scheme　of　this　struggle。
　
　The　time　had　e　to　charge　them　irreversibly　to　the　burden；　to　forge　them　into　an　instrument　of　retribution　that　could　annihilate　the　threat。
　
　Kahlan　opened　her　arms　to　the　men　before　her；　her　blood　soaked　mantle　hanging　limp。
　
　‘I　am　dead；’　she　called　to　the　gray　sky。　Frowning；　they　all　leaned　in　a　little。　‘What　has　happened　to　my　countrymen；　my　countrywomen　…　my　fathers；　sons；　mothers；　and　daughters　…has　slain　me。　The　agony　of　their　slaughter　has　mortally　wounded　my　heart。’
　
　Her　arms　spread　wider　as　her　voice　rose　in　wrath。
　
　‘Only　vengeance　can　restore　me！　Only　victory　can　return　my　life　to　me！’
　
　She　gazed　into　all　the　wide　eyes　staring　back。　‘I　am　the　Mother　Confessor　of　the　Midlands。　I　am　your　mothers；　your　sisters；　your　daughters　yet　unborn。　I　call　upon　you　to　die　with　me；　and　live　again　only　by　avenging　me。’
　
　Kahlan　swept　a　hand　out。　Those　of　you　who　join　with　me　in　this　are　dead　with　me。　Our　lives　can　be　returned　only　through　vengeance。　As　long　as　one　of　our　enemy　lives；　we　are　dead。　We　have　no　life　to　lose　in　this　battle；　for　our　lives　are　already　lost；　here；　today；　now。　Only　when　every　one　of　the　destroyers　of　Ebinissia　is　slain　may　we　live　once　again。　Until　then　we　have　no　life。’
　
　She　looked　out　at　the　solemn　faces　of　the　men　gathered　before　her；　watching；　waiting　for　her　next　words。　On　a　warm　breeze；　the　bloody　wolf　fur　rustled　against　her　cheek。　Kahlan　pulled　free　her　knife　and　held　it　up　in　her　fist　for　all　to　see。　She　laid　the　weapon　over　her　heart。
　
　‘An　oath　then；　to　the　good　people　of　Ebinissia　who　are　now　with　the　spirits；　and　to　the　good　people　of　the　Midlands！’
　
　Almost　all　the　men　followed　her　example；　holding　their　knives　over　their　hearts。　Seven　did　not；　but；　grumbling　curses；　rose　to　join　with　Mosle。　Seventy…six。
　
　‘Vengeance　without　mercy　before　our　lives　are　returned　to　us！’she　pledged。
　
　The　sober　voice　of　every　man　before　her　repeated　the　oath；　joining　with　every　other　in　unflinching　unity。
　
　‘Vengeance　without　mercy　before　our　lives　are　returned　to　us！’　The　roar　of　their　words　drifted　away　o