Darksong Rising: The Third Book of the Spellsong Cycle

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “I have not met the woman, and Tybel but once when he was far younger.”

  “Six of them.” Anna shook her head. “I’m trying to make this country safe for everyone, including the lords. They don’t seem to care. I’m attacked in the country’s liedburg, and there are six more lords standing in line to do something else.” The way Defalk operates … there won’t be any Magna Carta … no privileges for the lords … except you’re sounding like a tyrant yourself. She turned to Jecks. “What am I supposed to do—replace every fucking son-of-a-bitching lord in the entire land?”

  At the vehemence of her words, perhaps its obvious crudity, even Jecks swallowed.

  “I’m risking my life, your life, the heir’s life, and all people like Dannel and Genrica—yes, I’ve heard the stories—all they want to do is screw every available woman in sight … and grab every piece of land they can, and they’ll do it even if it means that it will tear the country apart … .”

  “Men are not …”

  “No! It’s not just men. There are just more of them in power,” snapped Anna. “Anientta’s every bit as bad, poisoning her consort, and probably trying to do the same to her father. You people deserve a frigging tyrant! An Evult or a Liedfuhr! You deserve the Wicked Witch of the West.” She found herself glaring at Jecks. She didn’t like that, and she sighed. “It’s not you.”

  “Mayhap …” Jecks drawled out the word. “Yet … if you would change Defalk, best you understand why Dannel attacked.”

  Anna forced herself to take another deep breath. “Go ahead. Tell me.”

  “You destroyed all hope for his son.” Jecks held up a hand. “Hoede is the third or fourth in line to hold Mossbach … under the old way of inheriting. If he consorts with Lysara, there would always have been the chance for him to hold Abenfel. It would not be a great chance, but a better chance than becoming Lord of Mossbach. You removed that chance, and struck at Dannel’s pride by suggesting that a woman was more to be considered than Hoede.” Jecks shrugged. “That is the way the lords of the north think—or many of them.”

  “It’s that important …” Anna shook her head. “I’m not sure I’ll ever understand. He’d rather kill me and have Defalk under that creep Rabyn than accept that his son is an incompetent thick-skulled dunderhead?”

  “He can accept that,” Jecks replied. “He cannot accept that you would place the good of any woman above that of his son.”

  “My son the dunderhead, right or wrong … is that it?”

  After a moment, Jecks smiled sadly. “Yes … you have the right of it.”

  Anna looked down at the still waters of the scrying pool. She shook her head. “All right … I’ll send a scroll to each of those idiots, suggesting that I know they’re plotting against me, and suggesting that my rule is that their lands will stay in their families—unless there’s treason … but that I will consider their daughters on the same terms as their sons … and that they had best accept it.”

  “I would suggest that you send those scrolls after you deal with Rabyn.” Jecks’ voice was sardonic.

  Anna laughed harshly. “Deal with the more important problems first? You’re right.” She sighed once more, conscious that she was sighing all too much. Was that Defalk—or her? “What about Lord Dannel’s lands and heirs? Do I send out a proclamation? Or confiscate them?”

  Jecks offered a grim smile. “Do nothing. Let all of them wonder. You have destroyed all of his heirs—his sons. If you explain, they will think you weak. If you seize the lands and hand them to another, you must enforce that at this moment.”

  The Regent nodded. “You’re probably right about that. . and about Lord Dannel. It’s just so hard for me to believe that people believe that crap.” She shook her head. “Lady Essan rode to battle with Lord Donjim. Women run the entire land of Ranuak; and probably half the counselors of Nordwei are women. How can these … idiots … believe that women are less capable? So much that they would die rather than accept it?”

  Jecks shrugged. “Mayhap once I did, but a daughter I had, and stronger than her consort.”

  “I liked Alasia,” Anna said quietly. Then she stepped forward and hugged the handsome white-haired lord. “I’m sorry. You’ve been good to listen to me.”

  Jecks squeezed her back, then gently released her. “I would listen to aught you say.”

  She looked into the warm hazel eyes. “Thank you. You know … I do listen to you, too. It’s just hard, sometimes.” Especially in this crazy place.

  The smile she received took all the chill out of the damp scrying room.

  70

  In the dampness of late morning, Anna stood on the old raised stone platform that backed up to the outside of the south wall of the liedburg, looking out at Jecks, Jimbob, and the pages and fosterlings to her right—except for Lysara—and to the lancers and officers arrayed to her left. Behind the lancers waited nearly two dozen older men and women—and perhaps three young women—sisters or consorts of the slain. Before her were the newly filled graves, almost fifty of them set behind the five rows of far older graves. Behind her were all her guards, each wearing a black sash.

  Anna herself wore a black vest, instead of the green or purple of her office as Regent. While she had vaguely known there was a cemetery behind the liedburg, she certainly hadn’t wanted to find out more about it, not so soon nor for so many.

  She’d consulted with Himar and Jecks, as well as Tiersen, who, as the oldest of the fosterlings, had some experience with death in Defalk, to find out what sort of ceremony would be appropriate. For so many deaths in the liedburg itself, there had to be a ceremony, both for the dead and for the living.

  After surveying those before her, Anna began to speak. “These brave men died in the cause of harmony. They died fighting to defend what was dear to them and to us … and they helped to preserve harmony and restore and maintain order and peace in Defalk. Because of their sacrifice, we are here. Because of their skill, we can go on to build a better land for all of us.

  “I wish their sacrifice had not been necessary, but prosperity and harmony have always required dedication and hard work, and sometimes armsmen and even ordinary people die to maintain harmony. For doing what needed to be done, they will be remembered. For their sacrifice, they will be remembered. And for their inspiration, we must and will go forward with the gift of life they gave the rest of us.

  “In the name and the cause of harmony, now and ever.”

  The last part was more than true. Had the guards and lancers not held off the treacherous surprise attack, then Anna would never have had time to turn her sorcery against the attackers.

  Anna turned to the chief player and nodded.

  “The dirge,” ordered Liende in a low voice.

  The usually cocky Duralt was somber and, wearing a black tunic, stepped forward and lifted the falk-horn to his lips.

  The long and mournful notes filled the stone-walled cemetery and drifted beyond, to the liedburg, and to the town itself.

  Duralt lowered the horn.

  “Order out!” called Himar. “By files.”

  Anna remained facing the freshly packed earth that covered more than fifty men, as the lancers filed silently past her and through the baileylike gate and back into the liedburg.

  “Old … style …” murmured someone. “The lord is the last to leave.”

  “Good to see … traditions … especially from a sorceress …”

  “ … only right …”

  Anna hoped so.

  71

  Anna lowered the lutar and studied the image in the scrying pool—clear enough to see that Jearle remained behind the walls of Westfort, and that more than twentyscore Neserean lancers patrolled the heights across the valley.

  “That has not changed in a week,” murmured Jecks.

  Himar merely nodded.

  “But why would they leave twentyscore at Westfort?” asked Anna. “A third or half of that would be more than enough to keep Jearle inside his walls.�
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  “They would keep you from avoiding the main body of Rabyn’s forces and going straight into Neserea.”

  The sorceress frowned.

  “With the Mansuuran lancers, the Nesereans have more than one hundred fifty—score elsewhere in Defalk. Twentyscore is not that many for them,” pointed out Jecks.

  Anna doubted she could have raised twentyscore in real armsmen even if she had stripped Loiseau, Pamr, the Sand Fort, and Falcor. Lifting the lutar, she tried a second spell, one seeking Hanfor. This brought a picture of Hanfor reined up on a hillside road, looking westward, or so it seemed, with the morning sun falling on the backs of the arms commander and the lancers behind him.

  The third spell called forth a troop of Mansuuran lancers who had dismounted beside a stream running through a deep and arrow gorge. The image in the pool shivered once, then again, as if being vibrated. Abruptly, timbers and planks lay beside the stream and pillars of steam rose from blackened soil where the stand of pines had been. Armsmen scurried forward on foot and began to lift the timbers and carry them toward the gorge.

  “Darksong … the whelp is using Darksong,” muttered Jecks.

  The way things had been going for the last few weeks, that didn’t surprise Anna at all. Eventually, Rabyn would have to cut back on Darksong, or it would kill him, but she doubted that he’d live long enough to worry about that, one way or the other. You might not, either.

  As Anna, Jecks, and Himar watched, the armsmen began to place the timbers across the gorge.

  “They are yet chasing Hanfor, and Rabyn grows impatient,” Jecks said. “He would use sorcery to hurry his lancers across the gorge.”

  Anna nodded and sang the release couplet.

  Let this scene of scrying, mirror filled with light,

  vanish like the darkness when the sun is bright … .

  “Should the Nesereans get too close to Hanfor … I like that dark spell not,” Himar said slowly.

  “Nor I,” admitted Jecks.

  “Can we leave tomorrow?” asked Anna, looking at Himar. “I’d like to get to Hanfor before Rabyn does.”

  “Aye, but we will not have so many lancers.”

  “How many lancers do we have?” Anna bent and eased the lutar into its case.

  “There were fivescore left here, and you brought near-on six back. Dannel killed twoscore and eight,” answered the overcaptain.

  Another thought struck Anna. You should have thought about that earlier. She pulled the lutar from the case, quickly checking the tuning. “There’s one other thing.” She concentrated on trying to find the words she wanted.

  Show me now and as bright as may be

  other lords who fight to keep us free,

  those from Defalk who lift a blade and lance … .

  The mirror offered a single image—that of a tall blond man at the head of a column riding down a narrow lane.

  “Nelmor,” Anna said quietly. “Of all the western lords, he has the least to offer.”

  “He has honor and courage,” Jecks pointed out.

  Anna was more impressed with the courage, but she nodded, and sang the release couplet, then replaced the lutar in its case.

  “Let’s go down to the receiving room,” she suggested, lifting the lutar case. “We can finish planning there.” She opened the door and stepped into the corridor to find three guards there.

  Rickel bowed. With him was another man in the purple and green of a Regent’s guard. “Lady Anna, this is Bersan.”

  “Lady Regent.” Bersan bowed. His deep-set black eyes were even darker than the short-cut black hair and the trimmed short black beard.

  “It’s good to meet you, Bersan.”

  The new guard bowed again, then stepped back.

  The three guards followed Anna, Jecks, and Himar down the corridor toward the steps to the main level.

  “Sorcery … one would swear … not a soul in that room,” Fielmir murmured to Rickel and Bersan.

  “The Regent is a sorceress,” Rickel replied mildly. “Best you both recall that.”

  Anna couldn’t contain a brief smile, but it faded quickly as she thought of all those—like Gatrune and Lysara and more than fourscore lancers who had paid for her sorcery.

  Lejun waited outside the receiving room with Alseta, who had clearly appointed herself the duty page for the day.

  “Good day, Lady Anna.” Alseta bowed.

  “Good morning, Alseta … Lejun.”

  Lejun and Fielmir stationed themselves outside the doors, while Alseta reseated herself on the page’s stool. Himar let Anna and Jecks enter the receiving hall, then followed and closed the door.

  Anna gestured to the chairs around the conference table and sat down, knowing neither man would until she did. Then she filled three goblets with orderspelled water. “You said we had tenscore or elevenscore lancers. We can’t take them all. That would leave the liedburg defenseless.” Anna frowned. “What if I take fivescore?”

  Jecks winced.

  The Regent took a long swallow of water.

  “Ninescore,” suggested the white-haired Lord High Counselor.

  “Seven,” countered Anna, with a smile. “I can use sorcery.”

  Thrap! The three looked up at the knock.

  “A scroll … the messenger said it was urgent.” Fielmir half stepped in and bowed. “Oh … and a young fellow by the name of Halde awaits you.”

  Anna could see Lejun behind the new guard, and motioned for Fielmir to bring the scroll. “Tell Halde to wait. I’ll see him after I finish with Lord Jecks and Overcaptain Himar.”

  “As you wish, Regent.” Fielmir bobbed his head and handed her the scroll.

  Before the door closed, Anna had broken the seal on the rolled parchment and had begun to read the heavy black script.

  Honored Regent and Sorceress,

  I am deeply saddened to inform you that sickness has indeed taken its toll here at Flossbend. My beloved younger sister Anientta has breathed her last, as have her sons.

  For the moment, awaiting your decision, I am administering the hold and lands on behalf of my brother Tybel … .

  The Regent’s eyes skipped over the rest of the polite words to the signature at the bottom—Beltyr. “So that was why … Tybel and Dannel were plotting this together. Probably some of the armsmen were Tybel’s. Shit …”

  Jecks raised his eyebrows. “You are distressed, my lady.”

  “Read this and tell me if you wouldn’t be?” Anna handed him the scroll. Shit! Now Secca’s the only heir to Flossbend, not that Tybel and his brother intended it. Secca may not have been that well treated by her mother, but she doesn’t need this. Not now. Not ever. Anna waited as Jecks read.

  When he was done, he looked up. “They are as bad as was Arkad.”

  “Worse.” She motioned for Jecks to hand the scroll to the overcaptain. “Arkad didn’t run around killing children.” That really messes things up. If Secca and Jimbob are consorted, he’ll end up owning half of Defalk, and you’ll never shrink his head down to size. Plus … all the lords of the Thirty-three will believe you’re going around doing them out of their lands to hand over to the heir. Shit …

  Himar returned the scroll to Anna, and his eyes flicked from the Regent to Jecks and back again.

  “Another thing I put off dealing with, and it’s just gotten worse.”

  “You could have done nothing,” Jecks said.

  “It doesn’t matter; I didn’t, and I can’t. Not now. If I don’t go and fight off Rabyn, there won’t be much of Defalk left to worry about … .”

  Himar’s head bobbed in affirmation.

  “Has this always happened?” asked Anna.

  “Has what always occurred?” replied Jecks, a wariness in his voice.

  “When the Lord of Defalk was occupied trying to save the country, the Thirty-three played games and tried to grab more lands behind his back.”

  “It has occurred more often than not,” conceded the white-haired lord of Elheld.


  “Was that another reason why you were worried about my going into Ebra?”

  “I had not thought any would move so swiftly. I expected some such once you were occupied with Rabyn.”

  “So I can count on this infighting to get worse?”

  Jecks shrugged. “Mayhap.”

  “All right. It will get worse. That’s because they all know I can’t deal with them while I’m fighting Rabyn. Will you hold Falcor for me?”

  Jecks swallowed. “I had hoped …”

  “I can’t leave Falcor unarmed. Not now. If I leave Himar here, anyone can attack and claim that Himar’s only a hired gun.”

  Jecks frowned in puzzlement.

  “A hired blade,” Anna explained. “If they attack you, they attack one of their own, and one who is the grandsire of the heir. That should stop some of this nonsense.”

  “What of Jimbob?”

  “He still gets that puzzled look on his face. I think he should come with me. With Kinor, I think.”

  Jecks nodded slowly. “As do I.”

  Himar’s eyebrows rose.

  “She can protect him better than can I,” Jecks said. “And I can summon some of my own armsmen here from Elheld, enough that you need leave but twoscore. Or three.” The white-haired lord shrugged. “Only the Regent can hold Defalk together in these times. Being here will not help Jimbob, and he should see with his own eyes how perilous is the life and conduct of a ruler.”

  “I’ll take sevenscore, and leave you three,” Anna said, “if you send out a message today summoning armsmen from Elheld.”

  Jecks’ lips quirked. “Sevenscore for you … but try not to have them fight. They should but protect you so that you may deal with Rabyn and his evil Darksong.”

  “I can’t afford to have them fight any real battles.” Anna grinned ironically. “I won’t have any lancers left at all if I do.” Not against forces twenty times yours.

  “See that you hold to that resolve, my lady.”