Zedd wiped rain from his eyes. "Richard, I want to know what this is about."

"A chicken was killed outside the spirit house. Juni spat at the honor of whatever killed that chicken. Not long after, Juni died. I threw a stick at the chicken in the window, and not long after, it attacked that little boy. It was my fault Ungi got clawed. I don't want to make the same mistake again."

Zedd, to Kahlan's surprise, spoke calmly. "Richard, you're bridging some yawning chasms with gossamer reasoning."

"The Bird Man said one of the chickens wasn't a chicken."

Zedd frowned. "Really?"

"He'd been drinking," Kahlan pointed out.

"Zedd, you named me the Seeker. If you wish to reconsider your choice, then do it now. If not, then let me do my job. If I'm wrong you can all lecture me later."

Richard took Zedd's silence for acquiescence and again grasped Kahlan's arm, if a little more gently than the first time. Conviction ignited his gray eyes.

"Please, Kahlan, do as I ask. If I'm wrong, I'll look a fool, but I'd rather look a fool than be right and fail to act."

Whatever had killed the chicken had done it right outside the spirit house, where she had been. That was the skein from which Richard had woven this tapestry of threat. Kahlan believed in Richard, but suspected he was merely getting carried away with concern over protecting her.

"What is it you would have me say to the men?"

"I want the men to gather up the Chickens. Take them to the buildings they keep empty for the evil spirits. I want every last chicken herded in there. Then, we can have the Bird Man look at them and tell us which one is not a chicken.

"I want the men to be gentle and courteous as they gather the chickens. Under no circumstances do I want anyone to show disrespect to any of the chickens."

"Disrespect," Kahlan repeated. 'To a chicken."

"That's right." Richard checked the waiting hunters before locking his gaze on her. "Tell the men I fear one of the chickens is possessed by the evil spirit that killed Juni."

Kahlan didn't, know if that was What Richard believed, but she knew without doubt that the Mud People would believe it.

She looked to Zedd's eyes for counsel, but found none. Ann's visage had no more to offer. Cara was sworn to Richard; although she routinely disregarded orders she thought trifling, were Richard to insist, she would walk off a cliff for him.

Richard would not give up. If Kahlan didn't translate for him, he would go find Chandalen to do it. Failing that, he would gather up the chickens by himself, if necessary.

The only thing to be accomplished by not doing as he asked would be to display a lack of faith in him. That alone persuaded her.

Shivering in the icy rain, Kahlan took in Richard's resolute gray eyes one last time before she turned to the waiting hunters.

CHAPTER 8

"Have you found the evil spirit, yet?"

Kahlan looked back over her shoulder to see that it was Chandalen, carefully shuffling his way through the squawking throng of chickens. The muted light helped calm the flock in their confinement, if they did still raise quite the clamor. There were a few Reds and a sprinkling of other types, but most of the Mud People's chickens were the striated Barred Rocks, a breed more docile than most. It was a good thing, too, or the simple pandemonium would be feathered chaos.

Kahlan nearly rolled her eyes to hear Chandalen muttering ludicrous apologies to the birds he urged out of his way with a foot. She might have quipped about his risible behavior were it not for the disquieting way he was dressed, with a long knife at his left hip, a short knife at the right, a full quiver over one shoulder, and a strung bow over the other.

More troubling, a coiled troga hung from a hook at his belt. A troga was a simple wire long enough to loop and drop over a man's head. It was applied from behind, and then the wooden handles yanked apart. A man of Chandalen's skill could easily and accurately place his troga at the joints in a man's neck and silence him before he could make a sound.

When they had fought together against the Imperial Order army that had attacked the city of Ebinissia and butchered the innocent women and children there, Kahlan had more than once seen Chandalen decapitate enemy sentries and soldiers with his troga. He wouldn't be carrying his troga to battle evil-spirit-chicken-monsters.

His fist held five spears. She guessed the razor-sharp spear points, with then- gummy, dark varnished look, were freshly coated with poison. Once so charged, they had to be handled with care.

In the buckskin pouch at his waist, he carried a carved bone box filled with dark paste made by chewing and then cooking bandu leaves to render it into ten-step poison. He also carried a few leaves of quassin doe, the antidote for ten-step poison, but as the poison's name implied, haste with the quassin doe was essential.

"No," Kahlan said, "the Bird Man has not yet found the chicken that is not a chicken. Why are you painted with mud, and so heavily armed? What's going on?"

Chandalen lifted a foot over a chicken that didn't seem to want to move. "My men, the ones on far patrol, have some trouble. I must go see to it."

"Trouble?" Kahlan's arms unfolded. "What sort of trouble?"

Chandalen shrugged. "I am not sure. The man who came for me said there are men with swords-"

"The Order? From the battle fought to the north? It could be some stragglers who got away, or combat scouts. Maybe we can get word to General Reibisch. His army might still be within striking distance, if we can get them to turn back in time."

Chandalen lifted a hand to allay the alarm in her voice.

"No. You and I together fought the men of the Imperial Order. These are not Order troops, or scouts.

"My man does not think they are hostile, but they are reported to be heavily armed and they had a calm about them when approached, which says much. Since I can speak your language, as they do, my men would like my direction with such dangerous-looking people."

Kahlan began to lift her arm to get Richard's attention. "Richard and I had better go with you."

"No. Many people wish to travel our land. We often meet strangers out on the plains. This is my duty. I will take care of it and keep them away from the village. Besides, you two should stay and enjoy your first day as a newly wedded couple."

Without comment, Kahlan glowered at Richard, who was still sorting through the chickens.

Chandalen leaned past her and spoke to the Bird Man, standing a few steps away. "Honored elder, I must go see to my men. Outsiders approach."

The Bird Man looked over at the man who was, in effect, his general charged with the defense of the Mud People. "Be careful. There are wicked spirits about."

Chandalen nodded. Before he turned away, Kahlan caught his arm. "I don't know about evil spirits, but there are other dangers about. Be careful? Richard is concerned about trouble. If I don't understand his reasons, I trust his instincts."

"You and I have fought together, Mother Confessor." Chandalen winked. "You know I am too strong and too smart for trouble to catch me."

As she watched Chandalen work his way through the milling mass of the chickens, Kahlan asked the Bird Man, "Have you seen anything… suspicious?"

"I do not yet see the chicken that is not a chicken," the Bird Man said, "but I will keep looking until I find it."

Kahlan tried to think of a polite way to ask if he was sober. She decided to ask another question, instead. "How can you tell the chicken is not a chicken?"

His sun-browned face creased with thought. "It is something I can sense."

She decided there was no avoiding it. "Perhaps, since you were celebrating with drink, you only thought you sensed something?"