Darksong Rising

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  The wind had shifted to where it blew out of the northwest, carrying not only the faint odor of moldy leaves, but also the odor of fire and charred meat. Anna swallowed quietly, watching intently as the Mansuuran messenger rode toward them, each step of his mount seemingly slower than the last.

  Rickel and Bersan brought their mounts forward, their shields high, partly screening Anna from any surprise attack. Kinor stationed his mount to Anna's left.

  Hanfor nodded at a Defalkan lancer Anna did not recognize, and the Defalkan rode forward alone to meet the Mansuuran and to accept the scroll carried by the Mansuuran. After handing over the scroll, the Mansuuran saluted and turned back westward, spurring his mount into a slow trot.

  "He's not happy," observed Kinor. "I'll get it."

  "We won't be either. Thank you." Anna waited as the redhead rode to meet the lancer and take the scroll. When he returned, she accepted the scroll, unrolled it immediately, and began to read.

  Honored Regent of Defalk, Most Powerful Sorceress, Protector of Lands, Overlord of the East...

  The compliments went on for three lines before the message became clear.

  Much as I would like to avoid unnecessary bloodshed, I am a loyal Mansuuran overcaptain and the arm of the Liedfuhr. I am not so empowered and cannot accept your request that I use my lancers to support a turncoat or to turn the Prophet's land over to one not of his lineage.

  The signature was: "Relour, Overcaptain and Arm of the Liedfuhr."

  Anna sighed. Here we go again. Another stubborn male who would rather stick to his procedures and beliefs and have his troops killed than use common sense. Does he really think I'm going to allow lots of Mansuuran troops to stay in Neserea after all this? "They're not interested."

  "Will you destroy them?" asked Jimbob, who had eased his mount up beside Kinor's.

  "I think I have to give them a chance."

  "They would have given you none, lady," offered Hanfor.

  "It doesn't matter. We'll still have to follow them for a while. at least until they're almost out of Defalk." She nodded to herself, half-smiling. There was no reason to kill the Mansuuran lancers. Not if she didn't have to, but there was certainly no reason to spare Relour. Loyalty didn't excuse stupidity-or arrogance. "I wonder what he was really thinking?"

  Hanfor laughed. "I would wager that Relour would be regent and ruler under the arm of the Liedfuhr. Like Nubara."

  "You would attack them now?" asked Himar.

  "No. We'll follow for a time. They're inside Defalk. I'm not going to attack all of them, anyway." Just Overcaptain Relour. "Not yet. Not until I've tried one other thing."

  Hanfor nodded, and Kinor nodded in return. Jimbob merely looked puzzled.

  Anna did not shake her head, although she wanted to do just that.

  91

  Ignoring the sounds of conversation and cooking coming from outside the ever-dingier small silk tent, Anna looked from Liende to Hanfor.

  "You wished to talk with us?" asked Hanfor.

  The walls of the tent rippled in the momentary breeze, and stopped moving. Anna cleared her throat, then took a long swallow from the water bottle. "Sorry. My throat gets dry with all the road dust." She cleared her throat a second time. "Yes, I did. I wanted to talk about the Mansuurans. If we leave the Liedfuhr's lancers in Neserea, we'll have the same problem in another year. Two at the most."

  "You wish to destroy them after all?" asked the veteran, fingering his gray beard as he did when thinking or nervous. "You destroyed near-on a hundred fifty-score of the Neserean lancers and armsmen Rabyn raised."

  "That leaves almost a hundredscore lancers, and that makes them more powerful than the armsmen left in Neserea."

  "Are they not better trained?" asked the chief player.

  "Far better," Hanfor acknowledged.

  'Tonight, we'll try something," Anna said.

  Hanfor raised his eyebrows.

  "Do you have two or three lancers who can send a heavy arrow farther than the others?"

  "A half-score would be better."

  "We'll get as close as we can, and I'll use the lutar to enchant a few shafts."

  "You would kill the overcaptain? That will not persuade the captains under him," Hanfor predicted. "They would regard that as cowardice."

  "Then, I'll remove them one by one until some idiot gets the message."

  Liende smiled sadly. "There will be many you may remove, and before you get that far, one will order the lancers to attack us."

  Anna felt like throwing up her hands. "What am I supposed to do? I spared the Mansuurans because they didn't start this mess, and because I wanted to make a gesture to the Liedfuhr. But they aren't exactly helping things either."

  "They would regard that as treason... unless they had no choice."

  "Then... maybe, we won't give them any choice," Anna said.

  "If you attempt this, do not essay it too often," suggested Hanfor. "Or they will attack, and you will not be prepared to destroy them, for there is every chance that is what you will have to do."

  "Can we try this once?" asked Anna.

  Hanfor smiled. "Once... they will not expect, not after you have let them escape."

  "And then what?"

  "They will turn and attack, tomorrow morning." Anna sighed, then looked at Liende. "Can you have the players ready with the long flame spell and the arrow spells?" Always the flame spell, and always the innocents die because of the arrogance and stupidity of their superiors. Including you...

  "We will be ready. Like you, I would wish otherwise, but I do not see such." Liende offered the sad smile that Anna had seen too often.

  "Neither do I." The Regent looked at Hanfor. "Do you?"

  "As I said, Regent, they will not accept aught you offer that does not leave them in control of Neserea, and that you and Defalk cannot accept."

  "Tonight then. They get one chance." Which is more than people have usually given you.

  92

  WEI, NORDWEI

  You summoned me, honored Counselor?" Gretslen's voice is low and bows deeply as she approaches.

  Ashtaar remains standing, but gestures toward the straight chair before the flat table-desk. "You may sit."

  Gretslen sits, her eyes darting nervously from the black agate oval on the flat polished wood to the spymistress, then to the window, and back to Ashtaar.

  Ashtaar still does not speak, but walks to the wide window that is open. the hangings drawn back to reveal the sunlit hillside that overlooks the river, and the rebuilt bridges above the port itself. After a time, she does speak. "What is Wei, Gretslen?"

  The hard-eyed blonde seer moistens her lips, once, twice, before she finally replies. "It is the capital of Nordwei. It is a great trading city."

  "No." Ashtaar's voice is cold. "Wei is an idea. All cities are ideas. They exist because people believe that being in a city is better than not being in a city. What is the idea behind Wei?"

  "That... all can benefit by free trade among all cities?"

  "You remember that from lessons. Nonetheless, it is true. Wei is more than that, but that is one idea on which it is based. Now... why is the Sorceress and Regent of Defalk so dangerous?"

  Gretslen frowns, and her brow wrinkles, but she does not reply. She moistens her lips once more.

  Ashtaar turns from the window, her eyes on the seer, waiting.

  "Because she will unite the south of Liedwahr, and will have the power to invade and destroy Nordwei?"

  Ashtaar closes her eyes, then opens them. "You can do better than this, Gretslen. If you cannot, I will make Kendra the head of the seers."

  The blonde licks her lips again. "I do not understand. I have worked hard. I have reported faithfully."

  "You have done all that, and more. What you have not done is think." Ashtaar turns back to the window. In time, she turns once more and faces Gretslen. "Tell me exactly what has happened in Defalk."

  "The sorceress has ignored the rebellious lords in Defalk. She has used h
er powers to destroy Lord Rabyn. She has not destroyed the Mansuuran lancers, but she follows them westward."

  "Now... does the sorceress have the power to destroy the Mansuurans?"

  "Yes, honored Counselor"

  "Is the sorceress stupid? Or mad?"

  "No, honored Counselor."

  "Then why did she not destroy them when she could?"

  Gretslen's hands curl into fists. She does not answer. Finally, she speaks. "I could not say, honored Ashtaar."

  "That is certainly correct. You cannot."

  Gretslen cringes at the scorn in Ashtaar's voice.

  "You cannot," the spymistress continues, "because you cannot or will not understand. What is dangerous about the sorceress is not her power alone. Nor is it what she believes. It is that she believes and that she will use her power to accomplish what she believes. Now, why did she not destroy the rebels in Defalk first? Because she is intelligent enough to know that they cannot match her face-to-face and because Rabyn and the Sturinnese were the greater threats. Why does she not destroy the Liedfuhr's lancers?"

  "Because she wants something more?"

  Ashtaar finally nods. "You must find out what she plans, in Dumar, she molded the succession to support her. In Ebra, she used her power to elevate Hadrenn-but under her control. There is no succession in Neserea, and logically, she should have wiped out the Mansuuran lancers to send a message to the Liedfuhr. She did not She is not like Behlem's Cyndyth, toying with folk. So... she has a deeper reason. You must find it, and before it is too late." Ashtaar laughs. "Or the Council will have to consent to any reasonable agreement she proposes."

  "To the sorceress?" blurts Gretslen.

  "Certainly not to Konsstin. The Liedfuhr is shrewd, but his ideals are limited. Hers, I fear, are not" The spymistress gestures. "Go. Think upon what I have said, and discover what she seeks beyond victory."

  Gretslen stands, bows, and backs out, as if pleased to escape Ashtaar's wrath so easily.

  The spymistress returns to the window, where she surveys the city that is Wei, the city built on one ideal.

  93

  Farinelli whuffed once, tossing his head, when Anna flicked the reins to begin the evening's journey from the encampment and the torches that marked it. The sorceress glanced overhead, but the only stars visible were to the south, beyond the slow-moving heavy clouds that had moved across the sky from the northeast earlier in the day. The wind was cool, but not as chill, and there was a dampness in the air that suggested mist or rain.

  According to the maps and the images Anna had been able to call up in the traveling mirror, and from what Hanfor's scouts had seen, the Mansuuran forces were camped literally on and around the road to Denguic, not more than twenty kays east of Denguic. The camp itself was on both sides of the road, with pickets more than a half-dek from the center, and scouts stationed farther out.

  So Hanfor and Anna had looked for one of the side and back roads-and found one that wound within a quarter dek of the south side of the Mansuuran camp. It wasn't patrolled, probably because there was a steep and wooded gully that separated the lane from the camp, clearly impassable to mounts and lancers. Since Anna had no intention of trying to ride into the camp, the side road would suffice for what she needed to do.

  "The ride there will take two glasses, I think," Hanfor said from where he rode on Anna's left. "By then, most lancers will be sleeping."

  "And it will take half a glass to get from where the road splits to where we'll release the arrows?" Anna glanced back behind Kinor to see how close her guards were, but Rickel's eyes were on the road.

  "Perhaps longer."

  In the darkness Anna nodded and shifted her weight in the saddle, deciding that late evening was far better than dawn for a sorcerous raid. She reached back behind the saddle with her left band and touched the lutar case to make sure that it was there. She had tuned it earlier, but whether the instrument would retain any semblance of tuning after the ride ahead was another question.

  For a time, the sole sounds were those of horses breathing and hoofs striking the packed clay of the road, with the only direct light coming from the torches held by every tenth lancer or so.

  "Lord Jimbob wished to come," Kinor volunteered.

  "Did you suggest it would not be wise?" Anna asked Hanfor. "I told him that for both the heir and the Regent to be riding toward an enemy in the darkness was unwise." Hanfor chuckled. "I also said that it was possibly unwise for you, but that I had no desire to be called to task for losing both of you. Especially by Lord Jecks."

  "How did he take it?"

  "Well enough. I let him accompany me as we prepared, and I explained all I could. I also asked for his trust in not revealing the plan to others."

  "Good," Anna replied. "That's the sort of thing he won't learn around Falcor or any lord's hall." She smiled to herself "We could do with a hall ourselves, right now."

  The column continued westward, the silence renewed.

  "Why do you not quarter yourself with one of the Thirty-three?" asked Kinor quietly, as if to break the silence. "Do they not owe you that?"

  "The three closest lords to where we are, if I can read the maps correctly, are Jearle, Ustal, and Klestayr," replied Anna. "Jearle's to the west of the Mansuurans, and Ustal's too far south. Klestayr-it's not that convenient...

  "And you trust him not?"

  Anna wanted to laugh. The number of lords she trusted could be counted on fewer than two hands. Still, that was up from less than one hand a year earlier. "Let's say I'd rather not put my fate-or Defalk's-in his hands."

  "Menares says that such has always been the curse of Defalk," ventured the lanky redhead.

  "Ambition has been more the downfall of realms than poor ruling. Leastwise, from what I have seen." Hanfor eased his mount forward, as if to avoid the appearance of crowding Lejun, the guard riding back and to the left of Anna.

  "I'm not sure anyone has ever been able to rule Defalk," Anna quipped in return. "Most of the lords I've met don't want a ruler. They want a figurehead to let them do what they want."

  "You are not like that, Regent," said Kinor.

  "I'm also the least popular ruler in generations... least popular with the lords, anyway." She frowned to herself. Was it just the lords? The rivermen hadn't cared much for her decisions, nor had the chandlers in Pamr, nor the crafters of Falcor. Was there really anyone who liked what she'd tried to do?

  "A wise armsman trusts the most popular rulers not at all, lady," offered Hanfor. "The mob and the lords are bought with armsmen's blood, more oft than not."

  "That's true in other... lands as well." Anna had almost said "worlds." Hadn't Kipling, that great British poetic exponent of imperialism, said something like that? She tried to remember. She'd heard Michael York give a reading of Kipling once, and it had been interesting, truthfully trite, and sometimes most depressing, especially 'The Gods of the Copybook Headings." Did It have to be true that people always forgot the hard lessons once the troubles were past? That they always went back to the leaders that beguiled them with warm fuzzies and comforting nothings?

  The silence dragged out once more, as Anna retreated into her own thoughts.

  "Lady... you have been silent..." Kinor ventured after they had ridden a good dek farther westward, toward the side road and the sorcery she hoped would avoid greater slaughter, and that she feared would not.

  "I'm just thinking." That was true enough.

  Neither Kinor nor Hanfor spoke again for a time.

  Anna listened, but winter was definitely approaching, and the insect twitters and night birdcalls of the summer and early fall had died away to nearly nothing. The only consistent sounds were those of the mounts that carried her lancers westward.

  Hanfor cleared his throat, easing his mount closer to Farinelli and Anna. "Regent Anna, here is the turn... where the backup lancers will wait." Hanfor had insisted on bringing two backup companies of 1ancers, to leave them where the side lane split off from the main roa
d, just in case.

  He was probably right, reflected Anna, but it was getting as though she had to have a small army to go anywhere. Then, she probably did. "All right. Then we stop for a moment?"

  "Yes." Hanfor nodded, then called, "Lancers halt!"

  The command was relayed through the darkness.

  "Weylar!" ordered the arms commander.

  "Ser." A blond-bearded captain rode out of the dimness toward Hanfor and reined up, offering a half bow from the saddle.

  "You hold the fork here. If the Mansuurans should come with all their forces, ride after us. If a small force should come, make sure none return. Otherwise, wait for us. We may be as long as three glasses, and as brief as one."

  "Ser. As you command."

  "As the Regent commands," Hanfor added.

  "Yes, ser. Yes, Regent."

  "Thank you, Weylar," Anna added. "I appreciate it, and we'll try to be quick."

  "We'll be here, Regent."

  "Thank you," Anna said again.

  "Green company, forward!"

  The sorceress felt even more alone as the smaller group pressed on. Alone? Would you ever have considered being with twenty men alone? Then, would you ever have thought that you would be riding along a dark lane to rely on your voice alone to protect you against more than two thousand men armed with lances and sharp blades?

  "Lady... we should burn no torches from here on."

  "I agree."

  "If you will escort the Regent for a few moments." Hanfor addressed the request to Kinor, and his words were more order than question.

  "Yes, Arms Commander."

  Anna glanced back, and could almost see Hanfor's progress as torch after torch winked out. Rickel and Lejun eased their mounts forward until they rode before Anna and Kinor. Both guards had unstrapped the protective shields and now carried them on their forearms, but partly supported by their lance-holders.

  "Dark it is without torches or stars," observed Kinor.

  "It's not too bad," Anna replied. "At least, if we don't run into anyone."