She returned to Demmin Nass, who stood where he had been told to wait.

There were tears in his eyes.

"Please, Mistress, command me."

Kahlan pulled a knife from his belt, ignoring his request. With her other hand, she unfastened the flanged battle mace from its hook. "Take off your pants." She waited until he had pulled them off and stood once more before her. "Kneel."

The coldness of her voice sent a shiver through Zedd as he watched the big man kneel before her...

Kahlan turned the mace around, holding the handle down to Nass.

"Hold this for me."

He took it and held it at his side. Kahlan kneeled down in front of him, close.

"Spread your legs," she ordered in an icy voice. She reached down between his legs, gripping him in one hand. He flinched, grimaced. "Don't move," she warned. He became still. "How many of the little boys you've molested have you killed?"

"I don't know, Mistress. I don't keep count. I've done it for many years, since I was young. I don't always kill them. Most live."

"Make a good guess." He thought a moment.

"More than eighty. Less than one hundred twenty."

Zedd could see the glint off the knife as she put it under him. Chase unfolded his arms, stood up straighter, his jaw muscles tightening at hearing what Demmin Nass had done.

"I'm going to cut these off. When I do, I don't want you to make a sound," she whispered. "Not one sound. Don't even flinch."

"Yes, Mistress."

"Look into my eyes. I wish to see it in your eyes."

Her arm with the knife strained, and jerked up. The blade came up red.

Demmin's knuckles around the mace were white.

The Mother Confessor rose to her feet in front of him. "Hold out your hand."

Demmin held a shaking hand before her. She put the bloody sack in his palm.

"Eat them." — Kahlan