Spellsong - The Spellsong War Part 27

I won't. I can't." The girl sits up in the bed, and swings her legs aver the edge, letting the sheer green cotton fall away from small and well-formed b.r.e.a.s.t.s that s.h.i.+mmer in the faint light that comes through the door from the outer room.

"You're sure?" Rabyn's voice is concerned, warm.

"I can't..." She shakes her head. "That... that's awful."

"I'd hoped you'd be sweet to me."

"The other..." She shakes her head. "Not that...." The dark-haired youth sits up beside her, offers her a goblet of wine. "Here. It's all right. I didn't realize it would upset you."

"You're so young. You're not old enough to think like that. How..." She takes a swallow, and her mouth puckers slightly. "'Sweet. Too sweet." Another smaller swallow follows.

"Honey. I like my wine sweet. I like girls sweet, too, Dylla." Rabyn offers a smile.

"Sickening... sweet" She wipes her lips with the back of her hand, and her mouth puckers again.

"I like things sweet. That's why you should have done what I asked," he adds slowly, taking the goblet from her, as her hands begin to tremble.

"You..." Her mouth opens spasmodically, and she begins to choke. Her hands reach for him, but the trem- bling increases, and Rabyn steps out of her grasp easily.

"You should have been sweet to me," he repeats as he stands and steps away from the bed, carrying the goblet.

Dylla slumps, then topples forward, and her nude form, lying half across the green braided rug and half across the cold tiles, twitches and shudders for a time. She also moans softly, softly only because she cannot make a greater effort.

Before long, twitches and moans cease.

Then Rabyn pulls on his tunic and trousers, and a pair of gold threaded sandals, and walks into the antechamber where he rings the crystal bell and waits by the single flickering candle.

"Yes, sire?" answers the page as he opens the door.

"I would like to see Nubara. Now. Here."

"Now?" The servant glances toward the dark window, then at Rabyn. "Yes, sire."

The door closes.

Rabyn goes back to the bedchamber and amuses himself for a time, waiting for Nubara.

When he arrives, the hand of the regent does not have himself announced, but throws open the door and marches through and into the bedehamber.

Rabyn smiles. "She wasn't nice to me, Nubara. I don't like people who aren't sweet to me."

Nubara looks at the naked body on the floor. "Was that necessary, Rahyn?"

"Lord Rabyn," corrects the dark-haired youth. "She wouldn't do what I wanted. She didn't make me feel good." Rabyn smiles. "You said she was only a peasant."

"1 beg your pardon, Lord Rabyn." Nubara's voice is cold. "She still had family, and they will not be happy. Neither will their friends."

"Tell them she died of the flux. It does happen. Offer them a few golds as consolation. Every peasant loves golds." Rabyn' s lips curl. "They see few enough of them."

"Would you be so kind as to help me dress the body? It might be easier to explain."

"I'm the Prophet, Nubara. I'm sure grandsire wouldn't wish anything to happen to me. You know that, don't you?" Rabyn pauses. "Her clothes are on the chair there."

Nubara compresses his lips, then walks to the chair and picks up the silken trousers. His eyes go to the still form. "What a waste," he murmurs to himself.

"She should have done what I wanted," Rabyn repeats. "You will, won't you, Nubara?"

Nubara forces a smile. "Of course, Lord Rabyn, of course.

31 Anna looked out the guest-chamber window at the low clouds and the driving rain, then walked back to the table and picked up a flaky roll-better than a biscuit- and began to eat slowly as she sat down.

She finished the roll with a sigh, and topped off roll and sigh with a long swallow of water. Her eyes flicked toward the window and the rain outside.

"You still wish to travel to Synope?" Jecks asked from the other side of the writing table.

"After the rain lifts, a.s.suming it does lift, yes, I do. I worry about Anientta, and I don't like the idea of her controlling Flossbend."

"That is a hard ride of eight to nine days," Jecks pointed out. "You know that there is little you can do about this consort of Lord Hryding's right now. If you are worried about repairing the ford at Soprat, you could turn north at the wide bend in the Synor and travel straight north. That would save almost five days' travel in returning to Falcor."

"Why are you so worried about time? You and Hanfor practically insisted nothing was going to happen for months-seasons, I mean."

"You have spent more time in Synfal than you had planned."

"There has been more to do than I expected." Anna took another sip of water. "You want me to get back to Falcor to announce that Jimbob will inherit Synfal?" She grinned. "I thought we'd agreed that should wait a bit"

Jecks looked at the time-dulled oak of the table, then gave an embarra.s.sed smile. "Menares sent a message scroll to you through me.

Anna frowned. Again...it had to be bad news. No one wanted to tell her that sort of thing directly.

"What's the trouble?" she said, reaching for another roll.

"There are two troubles." Jecks coughed. "You had best read it yourself." He handed Anna a scroll.

She began to read, skipping over the flowery salutations.

"...I have not made any contact with the ladies of Wei. This you must know and convey to the lady Anna.

Yet they have taken it upon themselves to impart information, and I have enclosed their very message scroll as proof. The lady Anna must know this, and yet I fear that she will not believe I have acted in good faith.

Still if what they have sent is true, and they have not lied about what has happened elsewhere in former scrolls, you both should know the contents.

My humble best to you and to the great and glorious regent, whose fairness has become legendary..."

Anna laughed. "He knew you'd give this to me, the scoundrel."

"His last words are sung in your direction," Jecks said. "They are true, but they are a plea."

True? What's true is that no man around here would plead to a woman. d.a.m.ned few, anyway. "He addressed his plea through you."

"Most men would."

"It would be better if they didn't." Anna managed to keep the words polite-barely--reminding herself that Jecks wasn't the problem. He'd dealt with her directly from the beginning. Was that because he'd had a strong daughter? Had his consort been like Alasia? She pushed that thought away.

"I would not wager against that." Jecks smiled broadly.

Anna smiled back, momentarily. "Let' s see what the ladies of Wei have to say." She unrolled the second scroll.

Menares, honorable counselor to the Regent of Defalk, We think it advisable that you inform the lady Anna, sorceress though she be, of a matter of grave import of which she may not be aWare. The Sea-Priests of Sturinn have sent an envoy to Lord Ehara of Dumar, with a chest of precious stones and gold. Lord Ehara has already sent officers of his guard to Lord Dencer of Stromwer and Lord Sargol of Suhl. These officers bore coins and tokens of friends.h.i.+p.

If Lord Ehara be acting on his own or at the behest of the Sea-Priests, that we know not. Neither is to the interest of Defalk, Nordwei, or Liedwahr. We trust you will follow your own good judgment and convey this information to your regent and sorceress.

A sealmark without lettering-just a four-pointed star with an N above the topmost point-was set in black wax below the carefully scripted letters.

"That is the seal of Nordwei," Jecks said.

Anna clicked her fingernails together. They were getting ragged again. Thank heavens she'd had a nail clipper in her purse, now in the large green leather pouch-wallet attached to her belt. She hoped she never had to use a knife the way she'd seen Jecks trim his nails. "Why would they send me that kind of message?"

"It is in their interest that you fight for them." Jecks shrugged. "If the Sturinnese can gain a foothold in Liedwahr, and one with a good port, such as Narial is supposed to have-"

"Narial-that's the one south of Dumaria?" Anna was trying to recall her too-recently-acquired Erdean geography.

"That is the main seaport. The Falche is wide and deep and slow enough that smaller seagoing vessels can sail all the way up to Dumaria. I would doubt that the larger vessels of Sturinn could."

"The traders up in Wei want me to stop Ehara and the Sturinnese? Why would they think I'd want to get involved in a war there? Defalk is still a mess. Muddy roads, lords who don't want a woman as regent, debts..."

"They may feel you have no choice, and they would warn you."

No choice?

Her face betrayed her thoughts.

"If Lord Ehara uses the coin of the Sturinnese to buy rebellion in Defalk. you must fight-either in Defalk or Dumar."

"What do the Sturinnese have against Defalk? We don't have a port. We haven't offended them." Anna frowned.

Jecks s.h.i.+fted his weight in the chair, like a boy with a secret. He even looked boyish for a moment, and Anna wanted to smile. Except he was uncomfortable, and that bothered her. She found herself clicking her nails again, and she clinched her fingernails into her palms for a moment, then forced a long slow breath before she spoke. "You're worried about telling me how I've offended the Sturinnese. What is it?"

"It is not the Sturinnese. It is their Sea-Priests." Jecks s.h.i.+fted his weight in the chair again. "Some seafarers, they have great concern about having women on board their s.h.i.+ps."

"I doubt somehow that the Ranuans and the traders of Wei have those concerns."

"No, lady, they do not. The Sturinnese do."

"There's more than that."

"They feel women are the agents of dissonance, and they chain them."

"They do what?" Anna wasn't sure she'd heard Jecks. "They chain some of their women?" Something...

something. . . someone else had told her about chains.

"All of them, Lady Anna, from what I have heard. Some wear chains that are little more than adornment, but most wear heavy links."

"Chains as adornment. Adornment." Rather than speak more, Anna stood and walked to the window.

Lady Essan had mentioned that, and she'd hoped not to have to deal with the Sturinnese. Why? Why did she always have to deal with what she'd rather not? The perversity of the universe? Mercury in retrograde, except there wasn't any Mercury in the skies of Erde. Darksong in ascendence? Was that the local equivalent? The red moon of darkness?

As the thoughts cascaded through her mind, the rain still fell, and the gray clouds seemed to touch the dark and recently tilled fields.

Had any place on earth chained all its women? She s.h.i.+vered. No wonder the traders of Nordwei were confident she would try to stop Ehara, if not the Sturinnese. Then, how much did the traders of the north know of her? Too much, it seemed.

She turned back to Jecks. "You must know how I feel about women in chains."

"I cannot see you favoring the Sea-Priests." Jecks' tone was wry. "Or Lord Ehara, if he is bound to do their bidding."

"I thought things were bad enough with Konsstin threatening to take over Neserca.' ' She paused. "How do we know that this isn't a ploy to get us tied up down here?"

"That, we do not know, save that the Norweians have not sent their armies into any other land in memory."

"That means they aren't likely to invade. That's if things don't change. They could still want us to fight a war to weaken us, or keep us from invading them."

"The Council of Wei has been known for such." Jecks' voice remained wary, but Anna wasn't certain the wariness was from deliberation or concern that she might still explode over the customs of the Sea- Priests.

"Lard Sargol still owes half his liedgeld," mused Anna. "So does Dencer." She half flushed as her stomach growled.

"Lard Gylaron has paid none, is that not so?" asked Jecks, politely ignoring her audible signs of continual hunger.

"There's more behind your question. Doesn't he hold the lands between Stromwer and Suhl?"

"You mark my meaning." Jeck laughed.

"I'm not sure I do. I'm missing something. The two lords north and south of Gylaron have paid half their liedgeld, but Gylaron's paid none. Dencer would like to see me dead, but he's paid half. I don't know anything about Sargol, but Ehara's courting both of them."

"I doubt Gylaron is our friend."

"Nor Dencer. Nor Sargol." She shrugged. "Let's see what the gla.s.s will tell us." Jecks rose.

"No. I'd like you to watch. You may see something I don't."

"You are not wary of revealing-"

Anna laughed. "You've heard me sing enough spells. Those were far more deadly than minor spells.

You've probably heard your share of spells, anyway."

Jecks nodded, his eyes twinkling momentarily. "A few:'

"So why don't you sing any?"