As Farinelli carried her steadily along the dusty gray clay road, she studied the approach to the keep instead. Abenfel stood on a low hill, the gates to the north. Directly to the east and the south were higher grassy hills. To the west, the ground sloped gently for more than a dek to a line of trees, which marked, from what Anna could see, a bluff, possibly overlooking the Falche. Because of the haze, she could not make out the far side of the river, but she gained the impression that even the upper part of the Great Chasm was considerable. Was it like the Grand Canyon, or narrower and deeper like the Black Canyon of the Gunnison?
Her eyes went back to Abenfel.
A permanent bridge, of later construction from the darker stone, spanned a dry moat almost a hundred yards wide and ten deep and led to the open gates, roughly three yards high, and bound with dark iron.
One of the riders with Birke unfurled a green-and-gray pennant.
Hanfor nodded and murmured something to one of the scouts, who unfurled the Regency banner. Without speaking, both standard bearers rode to the front of the column.
High thin clouds were turning orange and pink as the sun dropped behind the lower peaks to the west, leaving only the tips of the higher mountains to the south in light, and but briefly.
No one spoke as the column rode across the bridge and causeway.
Anna had barely reined up in the courtyard of Abenfel before Lord Birfels crossed the worn but still well-set gray paving stones. Birfels' red hair was more than half white, and his ruddy complexion was blotched from too many years in the sun. "Regent Anna."
"Lord Birfels." Anna swung out of the saddle.
"You dress and ride like a lancer, as slim as many, if more deadly." The faded brown eyes held a hint of a smile, and Anna could see the similarity between Birfels and his offspring—both Birke and his older sister Lysara, who had replaced Birke as a fosterling at Falcor.
Anna shrugged. "I've had to learn to ride, but a blade is beyond my skill."
"Not a dagger, I understand."
Anna tried not to flush. She'd never live down the time she'd gutted a Neserean lancer who'd tried to ambush her in Falcor's stable. "I was fortunate."
Birfels waited as a slender and white-haired woman neared. Despite the silvery-white hair, her face and figure conveyed that she was a good decade younger than the lord.
"Lady Anna, this is Fylena, my consort."
"Lady Anna," Fylena smiled warmly. "Birke has told us so much about you."
"I am pleased to be here, Lady Fylena. I do hope Birke hasn't revealed too many of my weaknesses."
"From his tales, we were not aware that you had any." Birfels offered another hearty laugh.
The southern lord was certainly more voluble than he had been in the past, and Anna had to wonder why. She patted Farinelli absently. The gelding whuffed. "I have more than my share. I try not to reveal them too blatantly."
"You have been most successful," said Fylena gently.
"I would be honored to place all of Abenfel at your disposal," offered Birfels. "I have even repaired and filled the reflecting pool once used by the lady Peuletar."
"Your hospitality is most generous," Anna responded.
"And most self-serving," added Birfels, self-deprecatingly. "You are the first ruler of Defalk in generations to put down the Suhlmorran lords, something long overdue."
"You must excuse my ignorance," Anna said. "As you know, I have had to learn the history of Defalk. I presume you do not come from that line."
"Hardly. That we can discuss at supper." Birfels turned to Jecks, who had dismounted with so little fuss that Anna had almost forgotten he was there. "Jecks, you are always welcome."
"You would be welcome at Elheld, Birfels, if your bones could stand the chill."
From behind and to the side of Fylena, Birke grinned.
"It is chill enough here for me, come winter and the snows. The cold I would not mind, only that wind out of the north, and you may keep it there."
"Lord Birfels, I must confess I am relatively new to this business." Anna gestured to Hanfor, who had remained mounted. "This is the Regency's arms commander, Hanfor. We have somewhere over twelvescore lancers and others with us."
"Arms Commander, you are most welcome. Syliern will be here momentarily, and he can offer you a choice of quarters for all your men." Birfels offered an ironic grin. "Abenfel was once the southern keep of Defalk during the insurgencies. We have some considerable space."
"And for our mounts?"
"There are close to five hundred stalls in the rear stable. I believe we might have a hundred mounts."
Hanfor bowed his head slightly. "We will take care, then."
"Knowing this lady," Birfels said with a nod toward Anna, "I would wager that you would scarce do aught other."
Jecks grinned briefly. "Your fame is spreading, Regent Anna."
Anna replied with a smile, feeling that any verbal answer would come out wrong, tired as she was. Then, she wanted to shake her ahead. She'd almost forgotten the players again. She made another gesture, this one to beckon Liende forward. "Lord Birfels, Liende, my chief of players."
"I see we share some of the same heritage, chief player," bantered the lord, touching his grayed red hair. "Are you from the south?"
"Only from Arien, lord," answered Liende.
"South enough for me. Be welcome. We have quarters for players, too. And replacement strings, as I recall."
"Thank you." Liende bowed her head.
Birfels turned to the regent. "Could I show you your quarters, Lady Anna?"
"In a moment, if you would, Lord Birfels. I will need to groom and settle Farinelli, and it might be best to get that done."
A frown crossed Birfels' face.
"My sire," interjected Birke quickly. "You might recall this is the raider beast that only the lady can curry. He maimed one groom at Falcor."
"Ah… I had forgotten. There are so many tales about you, lady." Birfels shook his head.
"It could wait," Anna said. "But I'll have to groom him sometime."
"Best now, and all will be settled. We will be here when you finish."
After ensuring Farinelli was brushed and fed, and watered, Anna, carrying only her lutar, with Jecks beside her, followed Birfels across the wide courtyard toward the center building of the keep—almost one hundred yards, she figured, by the time they entered the arching front entryway.
The entry foyer was nearly three stories high, with twin quarter-circular marble staircases, rising over an arch that fronted a long corridor.
"That leads to the dining halls and the library," Birfels explained as he pointed to the arch. "The guest chambers are up on the second level."
"It's very impressive," Anna said.
"One of my ancestors had hoped to be Lord of Defalk. The Suhlmorrans ensured otherwise." Birfels gave a crooked grin.
"I'd wager all this stone is chill in the winter," added Jecks.
"Not so cold as one might think."
As she followed Birfels up the polished marble steps, old enough that the centers of the stone risers were slightly hollowed, Anna wondered how many other lords of Defalk had similar thwarted ambitions in their background.
The second-level corridor was equally opulent, with pale green marble floor tiles cut in diamond shapes, and matching green marble sheets set as wainscoting. Fhurgen's and Lejun's boots echoed on the stone as the guards followed with Anna's saddlebags and traveling mirror.
Above the marble wainscoting, the walls were painted pale green, and hung intermittently with life-sized portraits—all men, Anna noted. "Your ancestors?"
"The lords of Abenfel." Birfels smiled briefly. "One presumes so, but life is never so certain as we believe. Neither are bloodlines, for all the fighting over such."
"Nothing's as sure as we'd like," Anna agreed.
Jecks merely nodded.
Beside each portrait were sconces with polished mantels and green candles. None were yet lit, although the fading twilig
ht left the hall dim and gloomy.
Birfels stopped and threw open the carved double doors. "These are the sorceress's guest chambers. We haven't had a sorceress stay in them since my father was a lad." He shook his head. "Hard to believe."
Anna stepped inside. On the polished redstone floor was a deep green braided rug. Apparently, braided rugs were the thing in southern Defalk. The guest chambers were truly a suite, with a bedchamber, a second chamber on one side that contained the reflecting pool and a table with chairs, and a bathchamber on the other side of the bedchamber.
Fhurgen and Lejun set Anna's bags on the low chest at the foot of the high bed with the carved headboard that depicted a woman in a flowing gown and an arm raised to a star over a garden of some sort. Anna set the lutar beside her bags.
"The headboard—that's a depiction of the first Lady Peuletar. There were several, all cousins, descendants of sisters, of course."
"Of course," Anna agreed, knowing that by custom and perhaps by Erde itself, sorceresses had no offspring.
Birfels picked up a striker and lit the candle on the small writing table. "Lady Anna, Fylena and I took the liberty of having warm water placed in the bath. Supper will be in a glass, if that would be satisfactory…"
"That would be fine," Anna said. "Thank you for everything."
"It is more than our pleasure." Birfels bowed and turned to the white-haired lord. "Your chamber is on the other side, Lord Jecks."
"I can stand this sort of place," Anna said to herself after the door closed and she was alone.
The writing desk even had a stack of paper and a recently filled inkwell. Anna shook her head, wondering exactly what Birfels wanted—or was it merely to offer amends now that it had become obvious that she was indeed a powerful sorceress. She fingered the golden-green brocade coverlet on the high bed—fine needlework, but somewhat frayed around the edges.
Anna walked back to the sorceress's room, clearly a working arrangement with a polished, if old, conference table on one side and the reflecting pool almost against the inner wall. A heavy black drape was drawn back from the narrow window.
She glanced at the pool, its waters silvery even without sorcery. Sometime, when she was rested, she'd have to use a pool to see if she could view Elizabetta—when more time had passed.
Then she went to the bathchamber, where a soft white dressing robe and a large green towel were draped across a wooden and bronze stand. The sorceress dipped a finger into the bathwater—tepid, almost cold. With a sigh she went back to the bedchamber and reclaimed and tuned the lutar, then returned to the bathchamber.
"Water, water, in the bath below,
both hot and soothing flow…"
Once Anna had the water nearly steaming, she replaced the lutar, undressed, and slipped into the tub, trying to let sore muscles loosen, trying not to think at all.
Later, probably too much later, she dressed slowly, easing into the single gown she had carried, glad for the time to relax without anyone around. A timid knock interrupted her woolgathering.
"Ah… yes?"
"Lady Anna?"
"Yes?" Anna repeated, padding across the cool floor barefooted.
Lejun announced, "A young lady with a message."
"Ill take it."
A dark-haired girl—vaguely familiar, although Anna knew she had never seen her before—peered in. "Lady Anna, my sire would welcome you to supper."
Anna motioned the girl into the chamber and plopped herself onto one of the chairs. "You seem familiar."
"I am Clayre, Lady Anna. We have not met, but I wanted to see you. So I asked if I could announce supper."
"Are you Lysara's sister?" Anna could see the facial resemblance between the two, although Lysara had red hair.
"Yes. She is two years the elder."
At the regretful tone, Anna shook her head. "Look at it the other way. You're always going to be younger. For most of your life, it's going to be more fun to be younger than your sister."
The hazel green eyes twinkled momentarily. "I had not thought of that."
Anna reached for the green slipper shoes, glad she didn't have to wear boots.
"Lysara said you were beautiful."
"She's kind. I don't feel beautiful." I just feel tired. Her feet were somewhat swollen, and the shoes barely fit, even as soft as the leather was.
"You look tired. Was it a long ride?"
"Five days in the saddle is long anytime. I think I've spent half a season riding since the beginning of spring." Anna stood. "I'm ready."
As she stepped out of her quarters, this time, Lejun slipped from his post to follow them. The black-haired Kerhor remained guarding her door.
"We're going to eat in the family hall," Clayre announced. "It's much nicer than the main hall."
The long marble corridor remained dim, with but one candle in every third or fourth wall sconce being lit. A single large taper in a bronze stand lit the foyer.
Rickel waited outside the ancient redstone archway to the family dining hall, nodding as Anna approached. "Good evening, Regent."
"Good evening, Rickel. I hope you've gotten something to eat."
"I ate earlier, Lady Anna."
A group of people, including Jecks and Hanfor, already waited inside. Everyone paused, and the conversation died as Anna and Clayre entered. Birfels bowed and stepped forward. "Lady Anna, you truly grace us."
"I'm pleased to be here, and happy not to be riding." Anna smiled. "I appreciate your kind hospitality and the chance to see Abenfel. It's truly a grand keep."
Birfels gestured to the head of the table. "If you would?"
"Thank you." Anna stepped toward the table, while the others arranged themselves behind places.
Birfels nodded toward his consort. "You and Fylena have met, and , you know Birke." He inclined his head toward the end of the table. "That is Wasle, and then Clayre." A younger redheaded youth sat farther down the table, but above Clayre.
Anna tried not to bristle at the position of the dark-haired young woman below her younger brother. "Clayre came to tell me about supper. I have not met Wasle." She paused, then asked Hanfor, "Arms Commander Hanfor, how are you finding things?"
The gray-haired and green-eyed veteran nodded. "We appreciate the hospitality, the men especially. You have good barracks here, Lord Birfels."
"Old, but good. They date back over three hundred years to the last Suhlmorran uprising, when Lord—"
"My lord," suggested Fylena mildly, "we could sit and eat and then talk. In greater comfort."
Birfels laughed. "That we should."
Anna took the chair at the head of the long table, as indicated, with Jecks at her right and Birfels at her left. Fylena sat beside Jecks, and Hanfor beside Birfels.
Three serving girls appeared. One bore a silver-rimmed porcelain platter bearing slices of meat smothered in a creamlike sauce and garnished with sprigs of narrow green leaves. Another carried two baskets of bread, and the third, a dish of something white and steaming.
The main dish came straight to Anna, who served herself, but waited for the others, taking some bread, and then some of the spiced and steamed apples.
"Will you be heading straight back to Falcor?" asked Fylena, after taking a small portion of the meat and sauce.
"I don't know yet." Anna smiled politely. "I thought I might wait a few days, if your lordship doesn't mind." Her head inclined toward Birfels. "I'd like to see what Lord Ehara's reaction is."
"Lord Ehara?" Birfel's eyebrows knitted up.
"Oh…" Anna shook her head. "You live with these things, and sometimes you don't realize that others haven't any idea what you're talking about. Lord Ehara sent something like four companies of Dumaran lancers to support Lord Sargol and Lord Dencer."
"What did you do to them, Lady Anna?" Birke asked brashly.
"They will not threaten Defalk again," Jecks said firmly, his eyes fixing on the redhead.
"Yes, sire." Birke's tone was abashed.
At the end of the table, Anna could see Clayre toying with her shoulder-length dark and wavy brown hair, twirling it around a finger as the girl-woman waited for the large platter of meat and sauce to make its way down to her.
"That is for the best," Birfels said. "Yet… lancers of Dumar in Defalk. How did that come to be?"
"Lord Dencer sought aid from Dumar, or was receptive to it," Anna said. "Sargol followed his example."
"Mayhap the other way," added Jecks. "Since both are dead, and the lancers—"
"All of them?"
"All of them," Jecks confirmed.
Wasle and Clayre exchanged glances.
Anna took a small mouthful of meat and sauce, finding it comparatively mild for Defalkan dishes. The knife and spoon at her place were heavy sterling, ornately designed with a nut-and-leaf pattern. The weight and the minute scratches testified to the cutlery's considerable age and quality.
"This is beautiful silver," she said. "A family heirloom?"
His mouth full, Birfels nodded, finally swallowing and answering. 'From before my great-great-grandsire."
"How fares Lysara?" asked Fylena.
"You may have heard from her since I saw her," Anna said. "We left Falcor at the… turn of spring. She seemed to enjoy her studies."
"She said as much when she came home in the fall." Birfels broke off another hunk of bread.
"Once Lysara is betrothed… perhaps you would consider Clayre as a fosterling?" asked Fylena.
Betrothed? Anna took a small mouthful of bread and chewed, rather than risk speaking immediately. Falcor wasn't a finishing and mating school! "Ah… Lysara hadn't mentioned becoming a consort."
Spellsong 02 - The Spellsong War Page 40