Spellsong - Darksong Rising Part 67

Just two figures stood on the lower steps that led up to the dwelling Anna had rebuilt with her sorcery-Skent and a tall blonde woman.

Skent bowed as Anna reined up at the foot of the steps, still trailed by Himar, Falar, and guards. "Lady and Regent."

"Captain Skent, Lady Herene." Anna smiled at the dark-haired young captain, then looked at Herene, who stood behind him.

"Regent." Herene bowed. Her blonde hair had been cut shorter than the one time before when Anna had met her. Now it was not much longer than Anna's.

Anna dismounted, then gestured to the redheaded Falar, who quickly dismounted as well. 'This is Falar. He has been serving as a captain for me, but he is also second in succession to the lands of Fussen."

"For now." Falar smiled engagingly at Herene. "My brother but recently took a consort."

Anna gestured at Himar-still mounted. "Lady Herene... Arms Commander Himar."

Herene inclined her head slightly. "Arms commander."

"Lady Herene," answered Himar. "Lady Anna, if you would excuse me..."

"Of course." Anna watched as Herene's eyes flicked back to Falar for a moment, then centered on the Regent.

"Your messenger said you had come from Flossbend?"Anna nodded. "Another unfortunate duty. You may have recalled Lord Hryding?"

Herene nodded.

"After his death, his consort Aniet.i.tta was holding the lands for his sons. She died rather suddenly. So did her sons. Then Lord Dannel attacked Falcor and tried to kill young Secca. After that, Lord Tybel's younger brother Beltyr took over the lands. Tybel attacked us on our way to Arien to look into the matter."

Shading the truth a little there, you are. Anna shrugged. "So... now young lord Zybar, Tybel's nephew, holds Arien, and Secca is the heir to Flossbend."

Herene shook her head. "Did they think you would allow that?"

"They did not think," Skent suggested.

"That may be." Anna shrugged, then belatedly handed Farinelli's reins to Blaz.

"But Defalk has to change, and they didn't want to see that." Anna smiled, half- sadly. "1 am sorry that you have had to bear the grief of your sister's death and the burden of restoring the hold, but I am glad to be here. You and your family have been encouraging from the beginning."

"You are always welcome. Always." Herene returned Anna's smile with one of her own. "You have given me a hold and a home to make, and though it comes from sadness, so does all of worth and value."

The sorceress couldn't help but notice that Falar continued to watch the new lady of Pamr as she spoke. You hadn't thought about these two.... She refrained from shrugging. If it's meant to be...

In the meantime, she had a tired gelding to unsaddle and groom. . . and yet a long journey back to Falcor. She forced herself to keep smiling.

112.

WEI, NORDWEI.

The oil lamps on the Council Chamber wall cast a low light, but one strong enough that the faces of the five counselors are reflected in the black-polished and gemlike surface of the long table around which they are seated. Chill seeps from the stone walls as leader Tybra raps the ebony hammer on the ebony striking plate. Several darts of light flash from the black-and-silver seal suspended from Tybra's neck.

"The Regent-sorceress has once more done the unexpected. Counselor Ashtaar, would you explain?" Tybra turns to the spymistress. "As we have all received your scroll outlining the actual events, please confine your remarks to explaining how this occurred."

Ashtaar looks to her right and then to her left. "Before I explain, I would like to suggest that we consider building more wars.h.i.+ps." She ignores the frowns and continues. "The real problem we have faced with the Regent and Sorceress of Defalk is that she is truly strange." Ashtaar shrugs. "She looks as we do. She can be injured or wounded as we are. But she is not as we are. We thought she was merely after power, like Lord Behlem or his son, or the Liedfuhr. So did the Evult, Lord Ehara, Lord Rabyn, and many of Defalk's Thirty-three-"

"She is clearly after power. She has destroyed close to a third of the Thirty- three," responds Virtuul. "She has replaced those lords with others and ladies who support her."

Ashtaar's smile is cold. "No, I said that we thought she was merely after power.

Unlike the others, this one sees power as a tool. Think... most rulersconsolidate their power at home first. They eliminate rivals, force consorts.h.i.+ps, raise taxes and armies-and then they strike at their neighbors and seize lands and goods. Some engage in foreign campaigns as a way to pacify their people with either excitement or loot, or use the campaigns to place rivals in places where they may be more likely killed by enemy blades or shafts. Has she done any of that?" Ashtaar's eyes rake those sitting around the long polished table.

"...not that we know," comes a whisper from the end of the table, "or you would not have asked the question."

Ashtaar nods toward the figure cloaked in black and shadows. "No...she has reformed the way Ebra is governed-and destroyed all the lords and armsmen who could protest-and gone home. She has eliminated all the Liedfuhr's lancers east of the Westfels, and most of the armsmen in Neserea, and then placed a good and honest man as ruler over that land. She did not invade it, though she could have swept all the way to Esaria. She destroyed Lord Ehara-and the Sturinnese fleet and all the Maitre's lancers in Liedwahr. After placing Ehara's widow on the throne-with her own arms commander to watch-she went home.

"She has used her sorcery to mine gold and mint coins-and little of that has gone into warfare or luxuries. She has begun to send couriers with messages to every lord. She has begun to teach the heirs in Falcor, and she has been replacing those lords who are rebellious or stupid with others who are intelligent and loyal. She is no softhearted girl who would let the poor or the mob rule, either. Witness her actions in Pamr."

Ashtaar pauses, but no others speak.

"How many lords in Defalk will stand against her? Five years ago, every one of the Thirty-three in Defalk was a man. Nearly a quarter are women today, and she controls more than half the lords outright. Has Defalk ever been so strong?"

"If she lives..." suggests Tybra.

"Why would any in Defalk wish to kill her? Any of sound mind? She rewards those who rule both well and fairly-and destroys those who oppose her. Were you a lord in Defalk, would you oppose her? She uses her sorcery to determine who plots against her. Would you risk such, Leader Tybra?"

"She will not live forever," says Virtuul, his deep voice almost lazy.

"If she lives but a handful of years longer, will it matter? Already she molds the heir and all those around her." Ashtaar laughs. "Besides... what if she teaches what she knows of sorcery to another?"

"Kill her," comes the whisper from the shadows.

Ashtaar smiles sadly. "Do you not see? Every ruler south of us has said that- except the Matriarch. Where are they now? The sorceress will never attack us- unless we attack her. So... do we accept the changes she will bring... or do we attack her and destroy Wei now?"

"We have those with poison... those with stealth..."

Ashtaar glares at the shadowed figure. "If... if we succeed, then we would turn all of Defalk except Wei and Ranuak over to Mansuur. Do you wish that, Lady of Shadows? Do you wish Konsstin on our southern borders?"

"You had said we should build s.h.i.+ps, Counselor," Tybra interjects quickly. "Why would golds spent on s.h.i.+ps help?""Liedwahr will never be the same. Sturinn will be. The Liedfuhr has more than enough armsmen to defeat the Sea-Priests- and Mansuur needs little trade. Ranuak will trade more and more with the sorceress and her allies. What will we do?"

"You suggest that our fleet must contest the s.h.i.+ps of the Sea-Priests, and from where will come the coins?"

"From trade. Defalk will return to prosperity, and there is much it does not produce. We will trade more, and gain coins, and those coins will build more s.h.i.+ps, stronger s.h.i.+ps. We need not worry about our borders," Ashtaar points out.

"The sorceress makes a good neighbor but a deadly enemy."

"One woman and all is changed... changed utterly," Virtuul says quietly.

"One might even call hers a terrible beauty," suggests the spymistress.

Neither the Lady of the Shadows nor Tybra speaks, and the Council Chamber falls silent.

113.

In the grayness preceding dawn, Anna sat at the writing desk in her chamber, quill in hand. Her breath steamed faintly in the chill air, as did the vapor drifting through the archway from the tub in the adjoining chamber. The two candles on the desk cast an uneven light, despite the polished-bra.s.s reflectors behind each.

Although she had arrived in Falcor late the night before, too exhausted from making a day and a half journey in one to talk to anyone, she had found herself awake and tossing before dawn. A hot bath had only made her more alert-and restless. Her eyes went to the rectangle etched in black on the stones of the outside wall. Elizabetta. She could send a scroll to her daughter, and she would, but what more could she say-or do? Her daughter was growing up a world away. How do you tell her that you love her without it sounding trite? How can you tell her what you're really doing? Can. you say that you're killing people to create a little more fairness for women-and generally privileged women at that? Or to keep a land together that might be better falling apart? Or that you're tired of fighting the same battles in Liedwahr that you fought on Earth- except that you can force people to listen now?

Awake as she was, she was too emotionally tired to write and send Elizabetta a message, and her daughter still wouldn't get it any sooner.

Finally, Anna looked at the scrolls beside her and the rough paper before her.

Lord Hulber of Silberfels and the gold issue... more grain for the gra.s.slands riders of the north... and whom to name as the next Lord of Mossbach. Should she seek thoughts from the Thirty-three as a political move? Or have Jecks feel people out? Or name Falar? But if Falar's interest in Herene is real...?

After a time, she sharpened the quill and dipped it into the ink, slowly writing out the list... name after name... Arkad, Sargol, Dencer, Hryding and Anientta, Gatrune, Dannel, Ustal, Jearle, Tybel, Beltyr... and Brill. Don't forget Brill.

Almost a third of the Thirty-three--dead in the two years since she'd come to Defalk.

Lord... even the Reign of Terror wasn't that sweeping, was it?Thrap! She jumped at the single sharp knock on her chamber door.

"Lord Jecks... if you will see him."

'I'll be happy to see him." She watched the door open.

"Lady Anna." Jecks bowed. His eyes sparkled as he looked at the sorceress. "I was not sure you would be up this early after so long a ride, but Lejun said you had been moving around for some gla.s.ses. "I took the liberty..." He gestured to the serving girl bearing a large tray filled with two small loaves of steaming bread, eggs scrambled with cheese, white cheese wedges, and a large red apple.

Jecks carried a pitcher. "This is hot cider."

"Thank you." Anna didn't have to force the smile as she cleared a s.p.a.ce and moved some of the scrolls to the bench-chest at the foot of the bed. The girl set the tray on the table-desk and bowed. Anna directed a second "Thank you" to the server as the girl left.

After filling Anna's goblet with the hot cider, Jecks pulled up the straight- backed chair and sat across from the sorceress as she broke off a chunk of bread.

Anna stopped eating after bolting two bites of bread. "Aren't you going to eat anything? There's plenty here."

"I had one of the loaves out of the oven," Jecks admitted. "I was up early, and Dalila was baking."

Dalila-onother indirect casualty of your sorcery. "If you're still hungry, please have some." She smiled. "Please."

Jecks smiled, the smile she enjoyed so much. After a moment, he took his belt knife and sliced off a small section of the hard white cheese. "Perhaps a little cheese." Then he sliced several more sections. "And for you."

"Thank you. I'm sorry I didn't want to talk last night," Anna apologized. "I was exhausted."

"You rode two days in one."

"A day and a half, I think, but it felt longer." She took a sip of the cider- better than water, but what she wouldn't have given for coffee. "I couldn't even think by the time I unsaddled and groomed Farinelli."

"You looked tired-and worried."

"I'll always be worried." She forced a laugh. "That seems to go with being Regent." After a pause, Anna asked, "You got the scrolls from Synfal?" She took another mouthful of cheese and bread.

"There were two."

"I sent just two before we left for Arien." She swallowed more of the bread, then took another sip of cider, conscious- very conscious-of Jecks' eyes resting upon her. "So much happened."

Jecks waited-with far more patience than she would have shown-for her to tell him what had happened.

"Lord Tybel. . . somehow he'd raised nearly thirtyscore armsmen. He staged a phony parley and was going to attack..." In between bites, Anna began to fill Jecks in on the details of her efforts since leaving Falcor, first what hadhappened at Arien and then at Flossbend and Pamr, and finally the bits that hadn't been in her scroll from Synfal.

"So. . . young Zybar is now Lord of Arien, and your little Secca is truly the Lady of Flossbend?"

Anna nodded. "I left Lejun and half a score armsmen with one of Himar's older captains there. It was the best I could do. And Herene seems to be rebuilding both her hold and the town. Falar begged my leave to stay there for a time. I told her she was free to accept him as a consort, and equally free to reject him." She laughed. "He can be very charming, but she's stubborn."

"Some men are charming." Jecks nodded. "Others are not."

Anna sensed the meaning behind the words, and could feel the closest thing she would ever hear to a plea from the white-haired lord. Lord.. . I'm not ready for this. "What do you think about Kinor as Lord of Denguic?" Anna glanced up after swallowing another mouthful of bread and cheese, not quite looking at her lord high counselor. "He has a lot to learn, and we'll have to keep a rein on him...

but I wanted someone .young, and someone who would stand up to Jimbob."

"He will do both. I like Lord Kinor." Jecks laughed. "So long as he is not made Lord of the Western Marches, or not for many, many years."

"No. Lord Nelmor has earned that. He fought when no other lord did, and because he thought it necessary." Anna grinned. "He did fight most cautiously, but I didn't mention that. Anyway, we need cautious fighters."

"The others of the Thirty-three cannot fault that you made him Lord of the Western Marches."

'There's plenty that they can fault. They can fault the dreadful sorceress."

Anna shook her head, recalling other words, other times, and how those words had a different meaning. Be not proud, for though some have called you mighty and dreadfid, you are nor so... Donne hadn't meant the words that way but you certainly have no reason to be proud... not after this season.

'Too long a sacrifice can make a stone of the heart," Jecks said quietly. His eyes were warm and deep-and fixed on her.

"What?" With the intensity of Jecks' words, Anna looked closely at her lord high counselor.

"You said that... you spoke of. . . but that was before you went to Arien. The words are yours, but you do not take them to your heart."

The words belonged to a true poet, one she'd sometimes wished had seen more of his work put to the music she'd once sung. "We all make sacrifices ... and sometimes they go on. You've left Elheld to come to Falcor for Jimbob."

"I did not come to Falcor just for him, my Lady."

Anna knew that, somehow welcomed and dreaded the words at the same time. "I know that. I've known it for a long time. I'm glad you did." You said it... you are glad.

"Lady. . . would you return to the mist world. . . if you could?" Jecks' voice was soft, deep, concerned.

Would you return if you could... would you...The words seemed to spin through Anna's mind... over and over. Would she return? Her mouth was dry, and her handstrembled. She clasped them together tightly. "That's an impossible question. I can't. I can barely send a message once a season, and I risk my life doing that."

"You know you cannot," Jecks persisted. "But would you if you could?"

Anna swallowed. To see Elizabetta and Mario again... A colder, harder voice appeared. And then what? And then what? Do you want to go back to struggling as an untenured professor? How would you even get a job... or explain two years'

absence? And what would you do when Elizabetta graduates and starts living her own life?

Would you if you could? The words rattled through her Iikc an ice-edged blade.

Jecks sat, patiently, a man of action, yet one who had stood by her, helped her, reined in his nature, even changed who he had been. His eyes were bright.