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hand.”
    Jagang, seeing her defeated demeanor, snapped his fingers as he turned his attention toward one of the shirtless slaves standing back near the entrance to the royal tent.
    “I’m hungry. The Ja’La tournaments start today. I want a hearty meal before going to watch the games.”
    The man bowed deeply from the waist. “Yes, Excellency. I will see to it at once.”
    After he’d run off to see to the task, Jagang gazed out over the sea of men. “For now, our brave fighters need a diversion from the difficult work. One of the teams out there will eventually win a chance to play my own team. Let’s hope the team that eventually wins the right to play my team is good enough to at least make my men break a sweat in beating them.”
    “Yes, Excellency,” the Sisters said together.
    Jagang, looking annoyed by their groveling, gestured to one of the special guards as the man marched by.
    “She’s going to kill you first.”
    The man froze, panic in his eyes. “Excellency?”
    Jagang tilted his head to indicate Kahlan only a half step behind him and to his right. “She’s going to kill you first, and you deserve it.”
    The man dipped his head deferentially. “I don’t understand, Excellency.”
    “Of course you don’t—you’re stupid. She’s been counting your steps. You take the same number of paces each time before you turn to march in the opposite direction. Each time you turn you look to check on her, then march away.
    “She’s counted your paces. When it’s time for you to turn, she doesn’t have to be looking in your direction because she knows exactly when you will turn. She knows that just before you turn, you’ll check on her and see her looking the other way. That will put you at ease.
    “When you march up to us from the right and turn, you pivot the same way each time—to your right. Each time you turn, the knife on your belt at your right hip is on the side closest to her.”
    The man looked down at the knife on his belt. He covered it protectively with a hand. “But Excellency, I wouldn’t let her get my knife. I swear. I would stop her.”
    “Stop her?” Jagang snorted a brief laugh. “She knows that she is but two strides from the spot where you turn, two strides from snatching your knife right out of its sheath.” He snapped his fingers. “Quick as that, she’ll have your knife. You probably won’t even realize it before you die.”
    “But I would—”
    “You will look to check on her, see her looking in another direction, and then turn. By the time you’ve taken your third step, she will have your knife. It will then be but an instant before she rams the entire length of the blade into your tender right kidney. You’ll be as good as dead before you know what hit you.”
    Despite the cold, sweat beaded on the man’s forehead.
    Jagang glanced back at Kahlan. She showed him only a blank expression devoid of any emotion.
    Jagang was wrong. The man would die second. He was stupid, just as Jagang had said. Stupid men were easier to kill. It was harder to kill smart, attentive men. Kahlan kneweach of her special guards. She made it her business to learn everything she could about each one of them. The other man marching before the tent was one of the smartest among her special guard.
    Wherever she was, she always analyzed the situation and envisioned how she would implement an attempt to escape. This was not the time, or place, but she still had thought it through.
    She wouldn’t kill the stupid one first, but she would take his knife, just as Jagang had said. Then she would turn to the smart one because he was more watchful and his reactions were far quicker. The special guards’ task was to prevent her from escaping; they weren’t supposed to use lethal force against her. When the smart one came at her to tackle her, she would already have the knife and would use their closing momentum as she spun toward him to slash his throat. She would sidestep his falling dead