The Soprano Sorceress: The First Book of the Spellsong Cycle

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’ll be fine. Send up some breakfast, and tell Menares and Lord Jecks that I will be delayed.”

  She closed the door and walked slowly—very slowly—toward the bathroom, but she stopped as she saw the white oblong on the bed.

  Elizabetta’s letter? Had it gotten through? She picked it up. The edges of the envelope were almost brown, as though they had been scorched, but the letter was there. The letter was there. Her fingers trembled as she opened it and began to read, forcing her eyes, burning as they did, to pick out the words.

  Mom—

  Everyone would say I’m crazy to try this, but they didn’t see your envelopes arrive. They don’t know, and they don’t know you.

  I had already showed the first coins to Mr. Asteni, and he said the gold one was solid gold, but he’d never heard of Neserea, and he wanted to know if that was some new African country. I didn’t tell him … .

  Mario’s nice about it, and he’s fine. I don’t know why you can see me but not him because he’s doing great. He worries that I’m crazy. I’m not, am I? I mean, writing letters to answer letters that appear by magic is strange, but it isn’t crazy. And I knew you wouldn’t just go off, no matter what Dad said about your going off the deep end … .

  I guess it must be hard, magic or not, to send these. I couldn’t read part of the second letter, because it was sort of charred. Are you sure you didn’t get burned when that wizard pulled you where you are?

  Anna had to stop reading because she couldn’t see … but at least Elizabetta knew. At least, she knew.

  After closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she picked up the letter again.

  I got permission to take off the fall semester without losing my scholarship—I told them I’d come back if it made a difference, but the dean was understanding, for once, and I’m working at the Homestead until Christmas. Dad and Paulina are back in New York, and it’s nice to have the space, but I MISS YOU!!!!

  Anna swallowed, and sniffled, and blotted her eyes with her sleeve, and noted the dried blood flakes that rubbed onto her sleeve. She’d take care of them in a minute.

  I don’t know if this letter will reach you, and if it does, if I can send another. So I wanted you to know that I love you, and that, even if we did argue sometimes, that wasn’t because I didn’t love you. It was because I was trying to be me, and you’re a hard act to follow. Irenia and I talked about it, a lot, and you’re the kind of person who draws up tight inside when you’re hurt. You don’t bleed or gush. You get formal and professional. Dad never understood that, and I think Sandy did, but he couldn’t understand why. Irenia and I understood, but sometimes it was still hard, and I’m sorry that I sometimes didn’t make more of an effort. It’s hard to say everything in a letter, and especially when you’re not a letter-writer, but this is the only way I’ll get to say it. You were there when it counted, and you cared, and I even remember when I got the chicken pox, and you left the audition in San Francisco that you might have won to come home because Dad said he had to, open at the Met.

  There are a lot of other memories, good ones, and I’ll always hold on to them.

  Anna didn’t realize she was sobbing until one of her tears dropped on the I love you—always scrawled above her daughter’s signature.

  In the end, she sat on the bed clutching the letter, and letting herself cry, knowing, as only her guts could tell her, that the black-etched rectangle, in the wall stones signified the closure of all her portals to the mist worlds.

  111

  Even by midday, when she forced herself to march into the receiving room where Daffyd, and lunch, waited, Anna felt like she’d been run over by Farinelli. She looked worse than she felt, with several scratches across her left temple, and more than a few across her hands and arms. None of the cuts were deep, but several hurt, if not as much as her aching head, and heart.

  “You look better, Lady Anna,” offered Daffyd as he stood.

  “I look like shit. And I feel worse.”

  Daffyd’s mouth opened, then closed.

  “That’s all right.” The sorceress pointed to the table. “Sit down. We need to eat. I do, anyway. My blood sugar’s so low it wouldn’t register.”

  Daffyd looked blank at the reference, but she didn’t bother to explain. She sat at the back side of the conference table, where she could see both doors, and immediately broke off a chunk of the dark bread. As she did, a head peered inside. Anna motioned. “Resor, bring in whatever we have besides the bread. I hope we have something else. Lots of it.”

  “Beef and onions and peppers,” said the page, setting the platter midway between Anna and the player.

  The sorceress nodded and finished her bread before serving herself. Were regents supposed to be served? Not this one.

  After several mouthfuls, she swallowed and cleared her throat. “How are you coming with the players?”

  “I have seven, lady, and soon … You did say you would pay …”

  “Fine. You need silvers?”

  “A silver a week for each.” The young player nodded.

  “And two for you?” Anna grinned.

  Daffyd tried to shrug nonchalantly.

  “I’ll get them to you later today or in the morning.” Anna stuffed more of the meat into her mouth. She was hungry, and then some, but that was clearly the result of sorcery. After eating for a time, and letting Daffyd eat, she resumed. “I hope to have the songs ready for you in the next day or so. Then we can practice, and I hope you’ll be able to rehearse them a lot when I can’t.”

  “Me?”

  “Why not? What am I paying you for?” She asked deadpan.

  “Lady … oh … you jest.”

  “Not entirely. Once you know a song, you ought to be able to get it put together. I won’t have that sort of time, not the way Lord Brill did.” Anna snorted. “I don’t have enough time to get organized, let alone do anything.” She took a deep breath. “You’d better go. I need to work on spells before I get interrupted again.”

  Daffyd nodded and rose.

  “Daffyd, I’m not displeased or upset. I am busy and frazzled.”

  “Yes, lady.”

  She wasn’t sure he understood, but then, men always expected women to understand. It was different when they had to, even as young men.

  As Daffyd left, the sorceress called, “Resor! Someone?”

  Skent peered in. “Yes, lady?”

  “Can you cart off the platters and plates?”

  Skent started to gather them up.

  “How is Cataryzna?” Anna asked playfully.

  The dark-haired page blushed. “Fine, lady. She is appreciative, but she would like the freedom to return home.”

  “I know. Matters aren’t that simple, though, as I keep discovering.”

  “Wendella—she hates you, and she tells everyone how awful you are.”

  “Am I?”

  “No, lady. Even Drenchescha thinks you are fair. She told Wendella she was lucky to keep her head. She wouldn’t have been near so charitable. That shut her up for a time.”

  That would change, Anna knew, and probably before she had a solution.

  “Thank you, Skent. I’ll think about it.” That she could promise.

  As the door closed, Anna pulled the paper and ink stand before her and began to jot down song ideas—she had to come up with something quickly so that Daffyd could get his players practicing.

  She had managed only a few ideas when there was a gentle thump on the door and Birke peered in. “Lady Anna, Lord Jecks is here with Dythya.”

  “Have them come in.” She set aside the spells and stood. Who was Dythya?

  “Dythya, this is the lady Anna,” offered Jecks. Anna could not help but note that his blue tunic was stained. “She is Herstat’s daughter … .”

  Dythya was older than Anna had anticipated, in her midthirties, dark-haired, with a touch of gray, and solid but not overweight. Her gray eyes were appraisi
ng as she bowed. “Lady Anna, I am at your service.”

  “I hope so. Did Jecks tell you about my needs?”

  “He said you had no one to do the accounts for the liedburg.”

  “Or the liedstadt. I also want to set up a budgeting system, where we can estimate what future revenues and expenditures may be.”

  “How—”

  “A simple system to begin with, but I have no idea right now what we owe, what we may owe, or even what many things I would like to do might cost. How can I plan when I don’t know what anything might cost?”

  Dythya looked to Jecks, who nodded.

  “My lady,” said Dythya, “I can tell you how much you have spent and where. Or I can find out. Beyond that, one must foresee the future.”

  “If you can figure out the past, I can show you how to plan for the future.” Anna paused. “What kind of numbers do you use?”

  “Numbers?”

  Anna pointed to the chair across the table. “Sit down. If you would also, Lord Jecks?” As the two took chairs, she pushed the ink stand and a sheet of paper across the table. “Write the numbers, digits, from one to twenty there.”

  Dythya wrote.

  It was as bad as she feared. They weren’t exactly Roman numerals, but they weren’t Arabic either, and it didn’t look like there was either a decimal system or place value. Would she have to reinvent double-entry bookkeeping? She only had the faintest idea of how it worked. Why was everything so hard?

  “We have a lot of work to do, Dythya, including a better system of numbers that will make it a lot easier.” I hope.

  The sorceress lifted the bell on the table and rang it. It bothered her to be summoning people hither and yon, but the bell made more sense than yelling.

  Birke opened the door. “Yes, lady?”

  “I would like to see Menares for a few moments.”

  Birke bowed and closed the door.

  Anna turned to the white-haired lord. “Lord Jecks, how have you had young Jimbob tutored?”

  “As best I could, lady. He learns his numbers from Herstat, his horsemanship from Hylar, his letters from Restak …” Jecks frowned. “Why ask you?”

  “I am going to offer more regular instruction to some of the children of the lords.”

  “Here in Falcor?”

  “Where else?”

  “Why … lessons are the prerogative of the lords. They always have been. Who else would know what their offspring would need to learn?”

  “Oh, I don’t intend to force this down anyone’s throat. Not directly. And I intend to see that instruction is offered to young women as well.” Anna looked up as the door opened.

  “Menares for the lady Anna.”

  “Take the other seat, Menares.”

  “Yes, Lady Anna.” The white-haired counselor looked around the table warily, then eased his bulk into the remaining chair.

  “Have you found out who taught young Lord Jimbob when he was here?” asked Anna.

  “Tirsik taught him about horses, and his mother taught him his letters and numbers. Someone named Isosar taught him heraldry and emblems and the basics of tactics. I believe he was the sire of young Skent. One of Lady Alasia’s maids taught him about manners.”

  Anna winced at what was considered education.

  “We will be doing more here, in the future.”

  “That may not go well,” cautioned Jecks.

  “Did Barjim save his son’s land—or did I? I am a woman, you know.”

  “Very much so.” Jecks offered a smile, but his eyes did not quite appraise Anna.

  For a moment, Anna was most aware of the near sexual tension between them, but she knew where that could lead, and now was not the time.

  “Defalk is too poor to waste half its talent and brains. Lord Barjim would have failed before he started without your daughter.”

  “I have been so told,” Jecks said.

  Menares and Dythya looked from Anna to Jecks and back again, following each speaker, but offering nothing.

  “Knowledge is power, or so it’s been said … in the mist worlds. Since we don’t have much of any other kind of power, we’d better use what we can. I intend to add all the knowledge I can.”

  “You have other reasons for such instruction, I would wager,” suggested Jecks.

  “Of course.” Anna smiled. “They will be closer than if raised on their own lands or fostered in a single other hall.” The smile vanished. “They’ll also have a better idea of whom to respect and whom not to.”

  “You are a dangerous woman.” Jecks shook his head.

  So did Menares. Dythya smiled faintly.

  “Menares? Dythya?”

  “Yes, lady?”

  “Two things. Menares, first, find Hanfor and dig up twenty silvers from him. Get them to Daffyd so that he can pay the players. Then, you two find a quiet corner and some paper. I want you to come up with two lists—one that gives all the possible expenses we have faced or could face. The second list should show all the sources of revenue that the liedburg has, or might have. Then come back here.”

  The two looked at each other.

  “Just do it. I’ll explain when you return.”

  Both nodded.

  “You are even more dangerous than I thought,” Jecks said with a laugh. “When neither of those two can think ahead of you … .” He shook his head.

  Anna waited until the door was closed.

  “I intend to destroy the Evult.”

  “How could you do that? And why? You have destroyed his armies.”

  “The Evult is putting together more darksingers and another army. I intend to put a stop to him now.”

  “I have heard of and seen your powers, Lady Anna, but you risk everything you have gained by such an effort.” Jecks frowned. “You do not have the coins to send an expedition into Ebra, and the Evult will not return to Defalk for another year.”

  “In time to ruin next year’s harvest, if we have one. We need rain, and we won’t get it without destroying the Evult. Besides, I have another idea.” Anna forced a smile she did not feel. While her body felt less sore after eating, her head still throbbed. Why was it that even trying the littlest spells across the worlds cost her more than far larger efforts on Liedwahr? Another one of those physical laws she had never learned, she supposed. It made sense, but she didn’t have to like it.

  Jecks raised his eyebrows.

  “It will take only a small expedition.”

  “If it is small, you will have to lead it,” the white-haired man pointed out, “and that is dangerous.”

  “Not as dangerous as suffering another year of drought followed by another invasion. And I can get halfway there without anyone knowing. No one will expect it. I can visit your lands without suspicion. Wouldn’t everyone expect me to make such visits? I’ll let it be known that I intend to visit many lords.” Anna shrugged. “You’re right, though. It’s not reasonable. It’s not prudent—but, as the saying goes, it’s better than the alternatives. And there’s another thing. Everyone is watching. Sooner or later, someone else will try. We cannot fight more than one enemy at once.”

  “No … we have few arms and fewer armsmen and only one sorceress,” admitted Jecks.

  “I intend to move quickly, within the next few weeks.”

  “That be awfully soon, and close before winter.”

  “We are surrounded on all sides,” Anna pointed out. “But if Ebra is rendered permanently helpless, that will stop one threat, and from what everyone says, that will buy a lot of time. Neserea, even under Konsstin, cannot do anything until next year. I don’t know about Nordwei.”

  “The Norweians like to plot carefully. They will wait, I think.” Jecks fingered his chin. “You have not said how you will accomplish this.”

  “I want maps showing the shortest feasible routes from Elhi to Vult and to Lake Aulta.”

  “Surely you do not think armsmen could travel the Ostfels? In late autumn, when the snows begin to fall?”

&
nbsp; “I have a plan. Let’s leave it at that.” Anna smiled tightly. “Can you come up with the maps?”

  The older lord shook his head. “No one has ever tried such a …”

  “Lord Jecks,” the sorceress said tiredly, “unless the Dark Monks are totally destroyed these senseless battles will go on and on.”

  “You destroyed their entire army at the river.”

  “They lost their best … general … and they’re already rebuilding. Even if the Evult were killed, the system would create another. That’s what systems do. Isn’t that what’s happened all over Liedwahr? You kill a despot and get another. I bought a year, perhaps two, and then I’ll have to do it again. I won’t live forever. Do you want your grandson to suffer his father’s fate?”

  “You talk as though he will live to be lord.”

  “He will be,” insisted Anna. “I intend to see him married, to Secca or one of the other suitable fosterlings.” Anna finished the last of the water in her goblet.

  Jecks rubbed his forehead. “You walk to tunes unplayed and spells uncast, as if they were already ringing in the air.”

  “Can you get me maps? Good maps? Can your scouts find me what I need?” Anna asked again.

  Jecks bowed his head. “We will make your maps.”

  As the white-haired lord left, Anna wanted to scream. What was it with these people? Couldn’t anyone look ahead? Didn’t anyone believe that anyone else kept their word?

  In the meantime, she had to give arithmetic lessons, develop a rough budget outline, meet with Hanfor, and come up with tunes for Daffyd’s players, not to mention setting up a school, figuring out what sort of answer to give the Matriarch of Ranuak, and a dozen other items she hadn’t even gotten to yet.

  The meeting with Hanfor would be long, because she had to ensure that the armsmen—or some of them—could be used for some work around the liedburg, maintenance, and the like. She didn’t have the coins to pay any good-sized force that was limited just to occasional battles. Yet she didn’t want maintenance workers who carried arms.

  Later, she should talk to Lady Essan, if for no other reason than to see where else she might have made a mistake or overlooked something. She hoped there weren’t too many mistakes or oversights … but she wouldn’t have bet a clipped coin—or an off-tune key-harp—on it.