But if the ground grew any less rugged and rocky, the bloodthirsty half people would soon catch up with them, because the soldiers had to run with heavy gear and armor. Most of them were muscular, brawny men, men good with weapons and hand-to-hand combat, so they were easily able to carry their loads, but in such circumstances carrying any extra weight slowed them down. On top of that, these men weren’t especially built for running the way the wiry Shun-tuk were. The soldiers of the First File had to be the best at everything, including running, but the Shun-tuk appeared to be built for the singular purpose of running down prey.
Kahlan glanced back over her shoulder from time to time. As unlikely as it seemed, they had gained more distance on the Shun-tuk chasing them. She could have run a little faster herself, but the men were already exhausted from the long hours of battle back at the encampment before this one in the gorge had even begun. She knew that they were running on pure First File mettle.
The men of the First File did not ever give up. For these men failure was not an option. Failure never entered their minds. Giving up wasn’t a part of their way of thinking. They focused only on finding a way to win.
It was maddening the way the battle, despite the odds, had been working so well, and then in an instant everything had changed. But Kahlan knew that in battle you had to be prepared to switch tactics in an instant.
Those who continued to press on with tactics that could not work ended up dead. Facing an enemy who refused to admit the reality of the futility of their strategy became a simple matter of killing them.
Successful warriors always preferred that to a fair fight. Successful warriors were the ones who won wars. That ability came naturally to Richard and for good reason—he was a war wizard. He was always searching for solutions that would work. If he found himself facing an impossible situation, he found a way to change the rules.
But at the moment, the rules were simple: run or die.
With the sword in her hand, Kahlan was not about to run ahead and leave the soldiers without her help at the rear, close to the enemy. If there were revived dead among the Shun-tuk chasing them, then short of Richard wielding it, the Sword of Truth in her hands was the best chance they had of defeating that threat.
As they ran up the steep ground, they came upon Zedd making slower progress up the rocky gully. He was losing ground to the rest of the men. He was wiry and stronger than he looked and ordinarily would have been able to run with the best of the Shun-tuk, but he had used a lot of his strength creating wizard’s fire. His endurance was waning.
Kahlan snatched a chain-mail sleeve of a soldier and pulled him close. “Help him. Don’t tell him that I told you to do so.”
The man nodded and then took one of Zedd’s arms. “Let me help, sir. I know you put up a valiant effort. You have to be exhausted. I saw what you did back there. I’ve never seen the like of it. It was truly magnificent.”
“Yes, it was magnificent,” Zedd said, momentarily cheered. “Unfortunately, it was not nearly enough…” he said, his cheer sinking.
“That’s all right,” another man said as he took Zedd’s other arm, helping to practically carry the wizard up the hill. Both men’s arms were nearly as big around as the skinny wizard’s waist. Kahlan saw that Zedd’s feet touched the ground only every third or fourth step.
It took all of Kahlan’s effort to make herself stay with the men rather than turn and fight the enemy. That was what she wanted to do. The sword was in full rage after the fighting had started and it demanded blood. Once it was out and engaged in battle, the magic of it was never satisfied as long as there was an enemy still standing. With the threat still existent, the sword wanted only to take it out. That was its nature. It was pristine purpose, pure power, devoted only to destroying what the one holding it wanted destroyed. It was up to the one holding it to choose what it considered to be the enemy and to place limits on what they did with the weapon. It required a thinking mind to properly apply its power.
It was a challenge just holding it and not letting it tell her what to do. She had a new appreciation for Richard’s ability to function calmly with the weapon in his hand.
Water dripping in little rivulets off the cliff faces to each side drenched them as they ran through it. The Dark Lands were a gloomy place where, from what Kahlan had seen so far, it was almost always dark and overcast. There was frequent mist, drizzle, and it rained almost every day.
All that water continually drained down the mountains, seeping through all the hairline cracks and fractures in the granite, soaking it through and through. It caused the granite to decompose over time and those crumbled bits accumulated in the gorge, making for difficult footing in places.