“Lady Herene?” Jecks frowned, as if attempting to recall the name.
“I don’t think you ever met her. She was Gatrune’s sister. She’s the ward for Sargol’s heirs, but she’s the only relative of Gatrune I’d trust here, and a lady will be replaced by a lady. Especially here.” Anna found her voice getting harsh, and she softened it. “I’m not angry at you.”
“You are angry,” Jecks pointed out.
“I am angry,” she admitted. “But that won’t change anything.”
“You wish to change Defalk within seasons, and most do not wish change. Yet you are angry that they will not accept such.”
“They want to live, don’t they? They’d rather not be under the Evult’s iron fist. Or Behlem’s.” Anna shrugged, feeling how tight her shoulders were from all the tension she carried. “They’d have to change one way or the other. This way would be easier.”
“My lady, they do not see it. Nor do most of the lords.”
“I know.” Anna sighed. “I know.”
“You must do what you can,” Jecks added. “Some have come to see, and others will.”
“We need to talk to Himar.” Anna looked toward Blaz. “Would you please ask Overcaptain Himar if he could spare a moment?”
“Yes, Lady Anna.”
Anna looked at Jecks. “I’m going to ask him who should remain here—I’d like Skent to do it … but he’d need an experienced senior armsman or undercaptain with him.”
“Young Skent … that would be good. He is loyal, and he will live longer here.”
Anna tried not to wince. Was anyone who followed her doomed to injury or death? Was it that bad?
“My lady … in this world, any who must bear arms risk death. You save more than other leaders, but you cannot expect to preserve them all.”
Why not?
Himar walked briskly up from the stable area, followed discreetly by Blaz.
“You had inquired after me, Regent?”
“Himar, before we leave this morning, I’m going to use a spell to try to rebuild the hold here, and then the stables and barracks. We’ll need to leave a company to hold it and support the next lady when she arrives.”
Himar nodded. “You would suggest young Skent and some other undercaptain he can rely upon?”
“I had thought so, but I haven’t told anyone because I wanted to talk to you first.” Anna’s eyes went to Jecks. “Except Lord Jecks.”
The overcaptain smiled. “Again, Lady Anna, I am glad of what you understand.”
“After last night?” Anna almost snorted.
“Regent,” Himar said soberly, “in all lands in Defalk there are uprisings. Without you and your sorcery, many more would have died. Armsmen live with death, but we do not welcome it. Those who have seen battles would have you over any ruler in Liedwahr.”
“About Skent?” Jecks prompted, clearly sensing Anna’s discomfort.
“I would spare Jirsit to advise him. He has seen every battle since you became Regent, and has served well.”
Anna understood. Jirsit could stand a respite, and Skent listened to Jirsit.
“I would also like to move some lancers between companies—a few older men for stability, and a few who might best serve with more training from them.”
“I’ll leave the arrangements to you, Himar.”
“Thank you, Regent.” Himar inclined his head. “By your leave?”
“Thank you, Himar.” She turned to Jecks. “What do you think?” Then she laughed, softly. “That’s backwards. I should have asked before I acted.”
“You do what you think will be best, not always what will be easily accepted at first.” Jecks smiled crookedly, but warmly. “Those who have followed you still remain willingly, and few rulers who fight battles can say such.”
“Thank you. I hope they won’t be too disappointed.” She tried to clear her throat. “I need to warm up before the players get here, or I’ll be the one holding things up.”
“I will see that all is ready for our departure, my lady.”
“Thank you,” she repeated.
Warming up took Anna a long time. Jecks had returned, accompanied by Jimbob and Kinor. All three stood back to give her space, and the players were all gathered and tuning when Anna was finally warmed up. She looked toward Liende.
“We stand ready,” replied the chief player.
The sorceress nodded, then began to sing as the melody and simple harmony rose from the gathered players.
Replace all stones and set them new and strong
so this hold will stand both firm and long.
Replace what once was timber with steel to last,
leaving but doors and shutters … .
Silvered mist seeped up from the ground or coalesced from somewhere, shrouding the ruined hall even before Anna had completed the second line of the spell. In the back of her mind, she could tell the players were tired, because the accompaniment was hanging on the edge as she finished the spell.
Then, after a rumbling and a shuddering of the ground, the faintest chord of harmony shimmered and echoed from somewhere, vanishing as the mist dissipated and left a pristine-appearing hall that replaced the burned-out walls and fallen roof. Anna blinked, then smiled, hoping that her visualization of the hall and the idea of girders or I-beams or whatever they were would suffice over the years ahead, but she couldn’t afford anything that verged on Darksong, not the way she felt.
Kinor nodded in approval, but Jimbob’s face was pale, and the heir swallowed as he looked from Anna to his grandsire’s impassive features.
Liende lowered the clarinetlike woodwind and stepped toward the Regent.
“How do you feel?” asked the sorceress.
“We could do another, Regent.” A faint smile cracked the chief player’s lips. “We will do it better.”
“Then we should turn and face the ruins of the stable,” Anna suggested.
The second spell was smoother, and resulted in an immaculate stable and a barracks standing where the former structures had been.
Despite the cool wind, Anna found herself blotting her forehead, and gratefully accepting the water bottle that Jecks extended. After drinking almost half of it, she returned it. “Thank you.”
“That was better,” Liende informed the players. “Much better. Now … prepare to ride. We leave shortly.” She stepped toward Anna.
“It was better, but Lady Herene will have to rebuild the rest of the holding herself.”
“Most lords would not begin with so impressive a hold,” Jecks observed with a laugh. “She will have no cause to complain.”
“I hope not.” And you hope she doesn’t blame you for her sister’s death. “Thank you, Liende.” She raised her voice. “Thank you all.”
As the players slipped away to pack up instruments, Anna turned back to Jecks. “You made sure the messengers took those scrolls to Lady Herene and to Dythya and Menares? Ytrude will need to get to Suhl before Herene can leave.”
“Both riders left before you began the first spell. I sent an escort with each.”
“Thank you. I should have thought of that.” But there was always something she should have thought about. Anna looked to the gray clouds that rumbled out of the north. “We need to get back to Falcor … and then to Denguic … or Dubaria.”
“Perhaps we shall be able to go to Fussen,” Jecks said.
Anna raised her eyebrows.
“You did suggest to Arms Commander Himar that it would not hurt to involve Lord Ustal.” Jecks smiled ironically. “Your glass showed Hanfor riding south.”
Anna laughed. “Maybe he can. If anyone could …”
They began to walk down the steps, still ash-dusted, from the new and silent hold, which Anna had no desire to inspect, toward their waiting mounts.
Once she had mounted Farinelli, she eased the gelding aside to where Skent and Jirsit stood. “Undercaptain Skent, as Overcaptain Himar has told you, you and Undercaptain Jirsit will hold these lands until t
he Lady Herene arrives, and then you will serve her bidding until she has determined her own staff and holdings.”
“Yes, Regent.” Skent nodded, a calm expression that reassured Anna.
Anna smiled and looked at Jirsit. “Himar thinks highly of you, and I appreciate your willingness to advise and assist Skent.” Her eyes went back to the younger undercaptain. She lowered her voice, pitched only so the two could hear. “Skent, I charge you with learning everything you possibly can from Undercaptain Jirsit, from improving your skill at arms to every detail about training and leading lancers and armsmen.”
To his credit, Skent did not pale or flush. “I know I still have much to learn, and I will do my best.”
“Good.” Anna paused. “You may be here some time.” She paused. “You have the golds necessary for supplies?”
“Yes, lady.” Both undercaptains nodded.
“Thank you both.” Anna looked at Skent. “Learn everything you can from Jirsit, Skent. Everything.”
“Yes, Lady Anna.” Skent met Anna’s eyes, then added, “If you would explain … in Falcor.”
“I will, and try not to worry.” Anna smiled, knowing exactly what worried Skent, or rather who worried him. Still … he’s come a long way from the worried page whose father had just been killed. She turned Farinelli back toward Himar and Jecks.
“Scouts, forward!”
With Himar’s first command, Anna and the fivescore or fewer of her party began the ride back to Falcor and whatever awaited her there.
66
ENCORA, RANUAK
The Matriarch looks from the vanishing silver image in the black-tiled pool to the four players on the far side and nods. Each of the four bows, then turns and slips out of the scrying room.
The waters of the pool remain serene as the Matriarch turns her head and addresses the younger woman. “You see, daughter? No unnecessary sentimentality, and no overreaction. Some rulers, as did the Evult, would have leveled all of that town. The Regent punished the guilty and the rebellious, then rebuilt the hold with sorcery, set a guard, and now continues westward to deal with Rabyn.”
“There was not much left for overreaction,” points out the silver-haired Ulgar, who stands at the Matriarch’s other shoulder. “That spell of hers killed every man enchanted with Darksong, and that was almost every able-bodied man in Pamr.”
“Does she have a heart, Mother?” asks Alya. “Or was Veria correct that she is a cold seeker after power?”
“She risks death every time she attempts to send a missive across the depths to the mist worlds, and all of Erde can feel the strain on the harmonies. Yet she continues those efforts. I believe they must be to her children.”
“You don’t know?”
“How would I? Except as a mother?” The Matriarch shrugs. “She has taken in those she did not have to take in. She allowed the Lady of Stromwer to live, and her first act upon taking that hold was to restore her child. She has returned Dumar to the old line, and after defeating Bertmynn, she has returned to her own land. She has tried to use Darksong to avoid killing, and she has tried, far from successfully, to use spells that would kill fewer souls. She does not act like a Bertmynn or an Evult. The lords of the Thirty-three fear her already, but now they will respect her, for she has shown that she will not tolerate disrespect from either those above or below the salt—or the table itself.” The Matriarch laughs, sardonically. “And she has just begun to know the pain of justice in ruling.”
Alya presses her lips together. “She fought but two battles and did not even march into Elahwa.”
“She destroyed the war-dog who would not let any woman lift her head. She has supported the only lord that all of Ebra will accept in these days. And your sister lives. That we know, and she will recover from the wounds she has suffered. The sorceress has prevented Bertmynn from further abusing the city. I would gather that the sorceress has also prevailed upon young Hadrenn to treat Elahwa gently. In that, we shall see, but whatever the outcome, it is far better than what would have happened without her intervention.”
“We shall see,” avers Alya.
“Do not be so doubtful, daughter,” chides Ulgar. “Has not your mother been proved wise in each event?”
Alya nods, if slowly.
“I am not infallible, Ulgar,” replies the Matriarch. “Far from it. Only the harmonies are infallible. That they have reminded me, and that they will remind all who employ their powers, even the sorceress.”
“Even the sorceress,” Ulgar murmurs.
67
Anna wiped the dampness off her forehead, moisture from the cool mist that was not quite heavy enough to be even a drizzle, then shifted her weight in the saddle. Even the Chean River, to the right of the road that followed the river bluffs, looked gray in the early-morning light that filtered through the low and formless clouds.
After turning in the saddle, as if to check how closely Jimbob and Kinor followed, Jecks observed, “You are distressed, my lady.”
“I’m not distressed. I’m worried. Right now, it’s not raining enough to get the roads really muddy. But it could. What if it starts to rain before we can head out to help Hanfor?”
“Hanfor will carry out his orders,” Jecks replied, easing his mount closer to Anna’s. “He will not risk his lancers. You have ordered him to harry and delay Rabyn, and that he will do.” Jecks offered both a smile and a shrug. “If it should rain, then Rabyn will have even more difficulty than Hanfor, and you will have more time to reach them.”
“I hope so.” The Regent glanced up at the featureless gray clouds hanging over the road that stretched westward along the river toward Falcor, still more than a day’s ride away. If it doesn’t start to pour.
“You will need that time. You cannot rush off to Denguic or Dubaria or Fussen,” Jecks said slowly. “Spend one day in Falcor. One day to set right what you can.”
“I’ll think about it,” Anna promised. One day didn’t sound like much, but a day here and a day there, and pretty soon … There was already so much to worry about—whether Hanfor could continue to elude Rabyn and keep the Nesereans from going farther into Defalk; whether Hadrenn would be able to unite Ebra and whether he would keep his word; whether Skent would work out as the custodian of Gatrune’s lands; whether Herene would be strong enough to reunite Pamr and hold the lands; whether Jimbob would learn from all that was happening ; how long the Liedfuhr would honor his promise not to attack Defalk.
All that didn’t include the worries over the mistakes she had already made, mistakes someone more experienced might have avoided.
She moistened her lips and looked at the road ahead once more. One day at a time … that’s all you can do … one day at a time.
68
The clouds that had threatened rain during the entire ride from Pamr remained low and formless, continuing to drizzle mist across Anna and the others as they rode through the late-afternoon gloom. Ahead lay the imposing stone bridge that spanned the Falche just below where the Fal and Chean Rivers joined. Beyond and to the south of the bridge lay the northern part of the city of Falcor, on the higher part of the bluff. The liedburg lay across the bridge and even farther to the south.
Anna’s eyes strayed to the north, past the wall on her right that was part of the wide causeway leading to the eastern end of the bridge. Both causeway and bridge she had erected with sorcery right before spring—and prostrated herself for nearly a week because she’d done it with a lutar for accompaniment, rather than using players. Just three seasons ago? She shook her head. Only a few weeks beyond half a year? It seemed far longer … more like years, years spent on horseback trying to repel invaders and deal with men who wanted to make every woman back into a slave. Or so it seemed, at times. Except so often, no one sees it but you. They see a Lord Dannel as a protective father, or a Farsenn as an avenging son, or a Bertmynn as an ambitious lord, or a Ustal as a proud young lord … .
“Regent?” Himar eased his mount around Jimbob’s and up besid
e Farinelli.
“Yes, Himar?” Anna focused on the overcaptain.
“You should know … the scouts reported that several armsmen were watching from the north bank of the river. They wore dark leathers and no livery, but when the scouts crossed the bridge and rode after them, they were gone.”
“Dark leathers … free-lance mercenaries?” Jecks frowned. “Why would such be here? The Regent put out no call for lancers-of-opportunity.”
“Because they know I have to fight Rabyn and I pay well?” asked Anna. “That can’t be much of a secret.”
“Mayhap, but to travel so far …” mused the white-haired lord. “They could not have come from nearer than Nordwei, and mercenaries are less than welcome there.”
“Tomorrow will tell,” suggested Himar. “Mercenaries are not shy about asking for golds. If those were mercenaries, they will be at the liedburg not much after dawn tomorrow, boasting of their prowess with blade and lance.” He laughed. “They will ask for more gold each than a captain receives, and claim they are worth even more.”
“Will any of them be any good?” Anna wondered if some might be skilled enough to hire to replace those men lost in Ebra and in Pamr.
“We will see.” Himar shrugged. “It cannot hurt to listen and to look.”
Farinelli’s hoofs echoed on the hard stones of the bridge, and Anna looked over and down at the sorcery-created gorge that held the Falche River. Even though it was well into fall, the river had continued to rise over the summer, and now filled entirely the lowest level of the riverbed, more water than she’d ever seen there. Maybe Defalk had once been a truly green land, the way Jecks had said, and perhaps it would be once more.
As Anna rode down the western causeway into Falcor itself, she looked at the pedestal in the roundabout just beyond the causeway, a marble-and-brick foundation that had lost the statue that had once stood there long before she had come to Defalk. The marble base had no inscription or clue as to whose monument might have stood there. If whoever had it erected had even ruled long enough to have had it completed.
Darksong Rising: The Third Book of the Spellsong Cycle Page 32