"Do all sorcerers and sorceresses dislike mornings?" asked the red-haired woman.
"Yes," grumbled Brill without even lifting his head. "They also hate travel."
Anna looked at the boots. After days of wearing them, they seemed to fit better, especially around the calves, which didn't bind anymore. She seemed to be losing weight still, that or her trousers were stretching, and she couldn't imagine plain cotton stretching.
Anna took another long slow swallow from the water bottle. She felt sweaty and dirty all over, and they had another long day on the road, according to both Brill and Barjim. Already, she missed the luxury of the tub and hot water at Loiseau, and this adventure had barely started.
Given how she felt, she didn't even want to think about how she looked.
Anna shifted her weight in the saddle again, trying to relieve the soreness that ran from her knees through her lower back. Although the sun had just set, the air remained still, hot—and dusty.
The ride from Mencha had given Anna a new appreciation of the term "eat dust." Even near the head of the column the dust was everywhere. She felt like she had been eating, breathing, and even drinking dust.
"The fort isn't that far." Brill's voice was uneven and raspy.
"How far?" Anna hoped she didn't have to sing or cast spells. The way her own voice sounded, who knew what the results might be, not that she had that many spells to cast
"Another five deks, less than a league. It's right at the base of the hills that guard the access to the pass. You can see the low spot up ahead there."
Anna nodded, looking to the gentle rolling plains to the north of the road, half covered with browned grass, a few tumbleweeds, and sharp-leaved clumpy plants that reminded her of cactus. There was no sagebrush, although the scene could have come from western Kansas, if not for the mountains ahead.
"No… we're not in Kansas, Toto," she murmured to herself. Not even in western Iowa—or anywhere close.
"Lady Anna?"
Anna turned and guided Farinelli back toward Alasia. "Yes?"
"How is your shoulder?"
"It's feeling better than my legs right now," Anna admitted.
"My legs get sore still, after all these years of riding," said the brown-haired woman.
"Don't let her deceive you, lady," grumbled Barjim. "She was born on a horse. She'll ride us all into the ground."
"My legs still hurt," said Alasia. "Yours do, too. You won't admit it."
Anna reached for her water bottle again, drinking the last from the one fastened in front of the saddle, but carefully recorking and replacing it.
For a time, in the reddish purple of twilight, the mountains seemed no closer, and they were mountains, Anna realized, mountains as high as, and drier than, the Rocky Mountains, mountains of hard red rock and gray cliffs.
As the twilight deepened, and the column came to a hill crest that dropped gently away, suddenly, a red-brick structure loomed ahead, filling the entire expanse between the two hills that seemed to merge on each side of the fort with the ridges that guarded the approach to the higher mountains. Watchfires lit the regularly spaced towers.
"The Sand Pass fort," Brill said.
"You built it?"
"He built it," confirmed Alasia her mount to the right of Farinelli. "In times other than these, it would be more than enough."
As they rode closer, Anna studied the walls, as precise as those of Loiseau, if of brick rather than stone, and rising perhaps fifty feet above the base of the valley.
Cannon? She realized she had never seen any kind of firearms—yet the precision with which Brill formed things with magic, and the crafting of blades and other items would argue that they could be made—or was there something about gunpowder that didn't work?
Erde was like that. She was so preoccupied trying to understand the place and to figure out what she could do with her talents that things she didn't happen to be familiar with slipped by. Except they didn't stay slipped.
She realized that her head was beginning to ache again, and she reached for the water bottle.
The pale purple banners bearing the crossed spears of Defalk hung limply in the growing gloom, lit intermittently by the watchfires. The road arrowed straight toward the middle of the wall. In the gloomy heat of twilight, Anna could barely tell where the red brick of the ramparts separated from the sunbaked dirt and the hard and dusty road.
Despite the broad-brimmed hat, her face was red and nearly raw. Defalk was no place for a fair-skinned singer.
A trumpet sounded, seemingly right behind Anna, and she twitched in surprise. Farinelli whuffled, and Anna patted his neck automatically, moistening her lips.
By the time the column reached the walls, the gates were swung open, and two squads of mounted troops, one on each side of the road, had formed up. The high brick walls loomed reddish purple in the last glimmers of twilight.
A trumpet fanfare echoed across the twilight, then repeated.
"I suppose they want to announce to all the dark ones that our lord and master has arrived…"
Anna held back an ironic smile at Daffyd's hissed comment to Palian, the only other woman player besides Liende, then guided Farinelli to her right, easing him behind Barjim's guards as the column narrowed to enter the gates.
The inside courtyard—or open space—of the fort was no more than twice that of Brill's hall. At first, Anna thought that the structure was only a set of walls. Then she squinted through the darkness, broken in patches by the intermittent light cast from the watchfires and the torches mounted on brackets at regular intervals along the walls.
The quarters, stables, armories, whatever buildings there were, were extensions from the outer walls toward the center courtyard.
"Our quarters here are not large," apologized Brill. "We have two rooms in the quarters section, but they are on the upper level. That should be quieter and afford more privacy. You and Liende and Palian will share the smaller one, and the other players and I will share the large one."
Anna nodded, wondering how much privacy there was with so many people together. She also hoped her legs would bear her weight when she dismounted—and that there was something to sleep upon besides the floor—or hard ground. Her stomach growled, and her head ached.
Brill eased his mare around Barjim's guards, and toward the low structure on the southwest side of the fort. "The stables are there."
Anna followed numbly, her face burning, and her neck, shoulder, back, and legs all aching.
"Oh, ser sorcerer :.." said a round-faced young man as they neared the low building.
Anna could tell from the odors they had reached the stable, and she reined up.
"This is the lady Anna," Brill explained as he dis-mounted. "She's a sorceress from the mist worlds, come to help us."
Anna didn't feel like a sorceress, but like ground beef or the Erdean equivalent, and her legs shook after she dismounted. Slowly, she led Farinelli into the stable, where, surprisingly, the light was provided by candles with glass mantles.
Somehow, she did get the gelding unsaddled and rubbed down, before staggering up two flights of brick stairs after the sorcerer, carrying her gear—gear that felt like lead weights.
Liende and Palian followed her.
The end room was narrow and held six pallets, raised off the floor on brick pedestals no more than a foot high—or was that two spans? Anna wondered. However it was measured, the pallets were low, and narrow—and they looked wonderful. There were two small high windows, both un-glazed and unshuttered, on the north wall.
"It's not much," Brill said, "but better than the barracks."
"Is there anywhere to wash up?" she asked tiredly as she dumped the saddlebags and bedroll on the pallet under the back window. Then she stripped off the floppy hat, trying to ignore the dust that came with it.
"There's a washhouse in the western corner," Brill explained, leading her back to the doorway and pointing toward a pair of torches. "There."
A
nna took a deep breath and started back down the steps while Liende and Palian arranged their gear.
"So… what captain do you belong to?" leered the armsman by the door to the washhouse.
Anna looked at the youth. She needed spells to shut up idiots like the armsman. "I came with Lord Brill and Lord Barjim." That was the best she could do, but it seemed to be enough as she stepped by him and into the room. For a washroom it wasn't much, just two awkward-looking pumps, with spouts and tubs beneath. Each small tub had a lever device that was probably a drain.
Anna stepped to the far tub and began to pump. A reddish stream of water poured out. "Damn…" she muttered.
At least, she had the water spell. As she pumped she sang, and the cold clear water flowed.
There was a gulp from the door that she ignored as she splashed away the dust and grime from her face and arms as well as she could. She had to repeat the spell once before she felt halfway refreshed, and she felt like she'd drunk as much as she'd washed with.
"Lady Anna?"
She looked up to see Brill standing there. Behind him stood Liende, Palian, and Daffyd. She thought she could see the shadows of the others out in the courtyard.
"Yes?"
"The water's not that…"
"I took care of it." She lowered the handle again and a stream of clear icy water gushed out.
Brill moistened his lips, then added, "We're to join Lord Barjim for dinner. As soon as we can."
She looked down at herself. "Like this?"
"You look better than most of us."
She waited while Brill splashed the worst of the road grime off himself, and then they walked toward the center section of the eastern wall.
Two guards stood by the closed wooden door.
"Lord Brill and Lady Anna," said Brill.
The older guard nodded and opened the door.
As they stepped through the door, Anna's mouth watered at the smell of bread, and some form of cooked food, a stew, she thought, and she swallowed.
The low-ceilinged room held a trestle table and benches. The only light came from four individual candles spaced down the table. Barjim sat at the only chair at the head of the table. Alasia, dusty and as hard-looking as any soldier, sat on his left. Seven men sat at the benches. Anna recognized Sepko and Dekas. There were two empty places across from Alasia.
"Sit down, sorcerer, lady sorceress." The Lord of Defalk gestured but did not rise.
"Thank you," Brill said. Anna forced a smile, and she tried not to slump onto the bench.
"… sorcerers… useless… better cold iron…" Anna turned to the man with the salt-and-pepper beard at the end of the table, catching his eyes. She held them, saying nothing, until the man looked down. She hadn't realized just how angry she was until that moment.
"One moment, Lady Anna," said Alasia, turning her head toward the foot of the table. "Captain Firis, apologize to Lady Anna. I won't bother to explain. I would suggest you talk to Captain Sepko after you leave tonight, and I suggest you offer thanks to the harmonies for my intervention."
Firis opened his mouth, then looked at Barjim's hooded eyes, then back at Anna.
Anna saw the contempt there, and began to think about spells. She could substitute the word "captain" for "armsman" in the variation on the candle spell. She hummed slightly, trying to get the pitch right.
Dekas looked at Firis and shook his head sadly. Sepko opened his mouth.
At the sound of the humming, Firis paled. "I apologize, Lady Anna. I apologize."
"Very wise, Firis." Barjim turned to Anna and Brill. "The stew's rather good."
Firis looked down, but Anna could sense his anger. At the moment she didn't care, not after having spent two days riding in dust out of obligation to Brill… and then to have some… medieval… idiot… insult her almost before she'd seated herself.
"You might try the wine," Alasia suggested. "It's not quite vinegar." Barjim's consort smiled.
Brill took the flagon and poured some for Anna and then himself, while Anna broke off a chunk of bread and ladled the stew across it.
She looked back at Firis. He was still seething, and he glared at her, his dark eyes burning. She thought she caught the word "Bitch…"
Anna looked at his goblet which was wooden, like hers and the others, and concentrated on holding image, words, and melody.
"Goblet there, goblet fair, flame bright in this air."
The goblet blazed into a pillar of fire, illuminating the entire room.
Firis fell backward over the bench, carrying Dekas and Sepko with him.
"Lady Anna… was that not a bit… much?'' asked Barjim, standing.
"No." Anna almost didn't care. "This isn't my world. I've ridden across a damned desert for two days because—'' She broke off. No sense in admitting her obligations. "I've been shot because I support you, and I don't have to take insults from half-educated idiots who don't even know me." She glared at Firis. "You have no right to be angry at me, and you have no right to insult me or Lord Brill."
"If you were a man, I'd challenge you," hissed Firis, scrambling off the floor as the light from the burning goblet died down into a low flame, his hand on the hilt of his blade.
"Well… Lady Anna?" asked Barjim.
Anna rose. "Perhaps I should go. By your leave?"
Alasia looked at Barjim, mouthing no.
"I think not." Barjim turned to Firis. "I'm not the brightest lord who ever lived. You know that." He laughed. "You all know that." His face turned somber. "Whose side are you on, Firis? It's strange. I finally get a sorceress with power, and she's not in the fort a glass, and you want to kill her."
"You know, she could have turned you into flame as quickly as that cup," Alasia added.
Anna bowed to the captain. "I apologize, Captain Firis. I am tired. I am not used to riding so far, and the past weeks have been hard. Very hard."
Firis's eyes flicked from Barjim to Anna to Alasia and back to Anna. "You obviously need not apologize, Lady Anna."
"Lord Barjim needs all his captains," Anna said. "And I am truly sorry to have upset… this group."
"I would like to point out one matter," Alasia added, turning to Firis. "When you were wounded at Cheor a spring ago, how would you have felt if Captain Dekas there had suggested you were useless?"
Firis frowned.
"It is not obvious, but Lady Anna took a full war arrow through both shoulder and hand less than three weeks ago, from the dark ones. She has made quite an effort to be here." Alasia spread her hands.
"The dark ones?" asked Firis.
"They are dead," Brill said. "Lady Anna also deflected that arrow barehanded, or she would be dead."
That was an exaggeration, but it would serve, and Anna did not think a correction was in order.
Firis bowed his head. "I apologize."
"I am sorry," Anna said. "I really am."
"Sit down, both of you, and eat," ordered Barjim. "I need you both, and half the problem is you're both starving."
"Might I ask for another cup?" asked Firis sheepishly, with a grin.
Anna avoided a deep sigh of relief as she sat, her legs trembling. She'd botched that, and without Alasia and Barjim, she'd have been in real trouble.
"Eat," commanded Brill quietly, "or you'll fall over. You're pale as snow."
Her head was pounding, and her vision was almost double, but she managed to take one mouthful, then another. Before she was quite sure how it had happened, her wooden platter was empty, and she found herself reaching for the bread.
Brill passed the stew kettle back to her.
While she couldn't quite believe she was still hungry, Anna took seconds, trying to listen as she did.
"We're still not at full strength," offered the thin, almost dapper man across from Sepko. His iron-gray hair glinted in the candlelight.
"We had a messenger from Lord Jecks this afternoon, Rohar," replied Barjim. "He will be here with his levies in less than two days."
"Will the dark ones wait that long, ser?" asked Dekas, after taking a deep swallow of the amber wine.
"Oh, they will wait. They will." The Lord of Defalk refilled his goblet.
"How many does Jecks have?"
"Twentyscore, or more, and some good archers."
"Solid man, Jecks is."
Anna began to have trouble listening after that, just trying to keep from yawning and falling asleep at the table. She shouldn't have had the goblet of wine, not as tired as she was.
By the time she and Brill returned'to the upper level, both Palian and Liende were asleep and snoring.
"Good night, Lady Anna. You made quite an impression."
"Not a good one, I'm afraid." Anna yawned in spite of herself.
"Quite good, I think. It will help morale."
"What?" She yawned again. "That I insulted a captain, flamed a goblet, and made an ass out of myself?''
"You showed spirit, and they need that more than anything."
"Good night," Anna said, closing the door. She managed to get her trousers and boots off, but that was all, before she sank onto the pallet.
33
Anna stepped around a clump of manure as she followed Brill through and around the groups of armsmen and toward the steps leading up to the northeast corner watch-tower. Despite the dust and dry climate, the fort was beginning to smell—the result of too many animals, too many people, and inadequate sanitation.
The smells didn't help her throbbing head, probably the result of bad wine, sorcery the night before on an empty stomach, and exhaustion. Sleeping on the raised pallet had been better than on the ground, but not much. A breakfast of bread, hard cheese, and dried apples had helped, but not enough. So had nearly a bottle of cold water, but the spell to clean and chill it had renewed her headache.
"You need to see how this battle will develop," Brill said over his shoulder as he trudged up the narrow steps. Carrying the mandolin, she followed. Somewhere, she needed to find a corner to practice, even to run through some vocalises. Could she sing separate lines of a spell without triggering the effect?… How far apart?
There was still so much she didn't know… so much.
As she reached the top of the steps, she stopped by the weathered, iron-bound door in the side of the tower and asked, "Can you practice a spell in phrases—without creating something?"
The Saprano Sorceress Page 16