The ShadowSinger

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by L. E. Modesitt Jr.




  SHADOWSINGER

  A SPELLSONG CYCLE NOVEL

  L.E. MODESITT, JR.

  TOR

  Fantasy

  A TOM DOHERTY ASSOCIATES BOOK

  NEW YORK

  NOTE: If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any pay­ment for this “stripped book.”

  This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  SHADOWSINGER: A SPELLSONG CYCLE NOVEL

  Copyright 2002 by L E. Modesitt, Jr.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.

  Edited by David G. Hartweli

  A Tor Book

  Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC

  175 Fifth Avenue

  NewYork,NY 10010

  www.tor.com

  Tor is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.

  ISBN 0-765-34258-8

  First edition: February 2002

  First mass market edition: March 2003

  Printed in the United States of America

  0987654321

  For Elizabeth and Drew

  CHARACTERS

  Secca Sorceress Protector of the East; Lady of Loiseau (Mencha); Lady of Flossbend (Synope)

  Robero Lord of Defalk and Lord of Elheld, Falcor, and Synfal (Cheor)

  Alyssa Consort of Robero

  Dythys Counselor of Finance

  Jirsit Arms Commander of Defalk

  LORDS OF DEFALK: THE THIRTY-THREE

  Alseta Lady of Mossbach; consort is Barat; son is Lyendar

  Birke Lord of Abenfel; consort is Reylana; mother is Fylena

  Cataryzna Lady of Sudwei; consort is Skent; heir is Skan­sor

  Chelshay Lady of Wendel; consort is Nerylt, son of Clethner

  Clethner Lord of Nordland; heir is Lythner

  Dinfin Lady of Suhl; consort is Wasle, brother of Birke

  Dostal Lord of Aroch, consort is Ruetha

  Ebraak Lord of Nordfels;. heir is Cassily

  Falar Warder of Uslyn, heir to Fussen; also consort to Her­ene, Lady of Pamr

  Fustar Lord of Issl; sole heir is Kylar

  Gylaron Lord of Lerona; consort is Reylan; heir is Gylan; father of Reylana

  Herene Lady of Pamr; consort is Falar; heir is Kysar

  Kinor Lord of Westfort (Denguic) and Lord of the Western Marches; consort is Asaro

  Mietchel Lord of Morra brother of Lady Wendella of Stromwer

  Selber Lord of Silberfels; heir is Helbar; sister is Belvera

  Tiersen Lord of Dubaria; consort is Lysara; eldest son and heir is Lystar

  Uslyn Lord heir of Fussen: father was Ustal, mother Yelean

  Vyasal Rider of Heinene

  Ytrude Lady of Entfels, sister of Tiersen; consort is Cens

  Wendella Lady of Stromwer; heir is Condell

  Zybar Lord of Arien

  SORCERERS AND SORCERESSES

  Anandra Sorceress assistant to Clayre

  Clayre Sorceress of Defalk

  Jolyn Assistant Sorceress of Defalk

  FOSTERLINGS, APPRENTICES, AND PAGES

  Jeagyn Fosterling/sorceress apprentice at Loiseau

  Kerisel Fosterling/sorceress apprentice at Loiseau

  Richina Apprentice sorceress to Secca; daughter of Dinfan

  DEFALKAN ASRMSMEN

  Elfens Chief Archer, Loiseaü

  Drysel Captain, Loiseau

  Quebar Captain, Loiseau

  Rickel Lord’s Guard-Captain, Falcor

  Wilten Overcaptain, Loiseau

  DEFALKAN PLAYERS

  Bretnay Violino, Loiseau

  Delvor Chief of Second Players, Loiseau

  Duralt Falk-horn, Loiseau

  Diltyr Chief Player for Clayre, Falcor

  Dossin Lutar, Loiseau

  Elset Woodwind, Loiseau

  Kylar Violino, Loiseau

  Nuel Violino, Loiseau

  Palian Chief Player, Loiseau

  Rowal Woodwind, Loiseau

  Yuarl Chief Player for Jolyn, Falcor

  OTHERS OUTSIDE DEFALK

  Alya Matriarch of Ranuak; consort is Aetlen

  Alcaren Sorceror; cousin to the Matriarch

  Ashtaar Ashtarr Leader, Council of Wei, Nordwei

  Ayselin Holder of Netzla, Neserea

  Belmar Holder of Worlan, Neserea

  Fehern Acting Lord High Counselor of Dumar; without consort

  Hadrenn Lord High Counselor of Ebra; Lord of Synek, Ebra; consort is Belvera; heir is Haddev; younger son is Verad.

  Hanford Lord High Counselor of Neserea; consort is Aer­lya; eldest daughter and heiress is Annayal

  Kestrin Liedfuhr of Mansuur; brother of Aerlya

  Maitre of Sturinn Leader of Sturinn; master of the Sea-Priests

  Motolla Holder of Itzel, Neserea; heir is Chyalar

  Svenmar Holder of Nesalia, Neserea

  Veria Counselor, Freewomen of Elahwa

  1

  Mansuus, Mansuur

  Heavy wet flakes drift past the windows of the Lied­fuhr’s study, each window hung with maroon velvet drawn back to reveal an early-spring snow that has already dropped more than half a yard of whiteness on the city, and on the ice that still covers the River Toksul.

  The man who stands before the windows, looking out, wears a sky-blue tunic with a silver chain bearing the amulet-seal of the Liedfuhr of Mansuur around his neck and a mourning band of black and maroon upon his left arm. For a moment, his hard green eyes flick to the ice-and-snow­covered river that cuts through the city, if well below and beyond the hill on which the palace rests. Then, he turns, standing beside the polished wooden desk that has graced the study for three generations, and asks, “You think Nes­erea will fall before harvest?’

  “As matters now proceed, it is most likely,” replies the trim overcaptain in the maroon uniform of the Mansuuran Lancers. There are but a few streaks of raven black amid the silver-gray of the lancer’s short hair. His thin eyebrows are silvered as well, but the dark eyes are deep and intent. “Despite the efforts of the Sorceress of Defalk, Aerlya and Annayal hold but an area little more than a hundred deks around Esaria."

  “If we dispatch the fifty companies of lancers from Un­duval? Then what, Bassil?’ Kestrin runs his right hand through short-cropped brown hair that is already half-gray, although he will not reach his full second score of years until the turn of the following spring.

  “Are you willing to risk all fifty companies? And to slaughter all those who do not support your sister and her daughter?"

  Kestrin tilts his head slightly as he studies Bassil. “If I must.”

  “You must. You must also avoid facing the sorcerer Lord Belmar. He is strong enough to dispatch all your lancers with his spells.”

  “Unless we can catch him in a snowstorm or the rain.” Kestrin laughs.

  “You risk much if you send your lancers into Neserea,” cautions the older man.

  “I risk more if I do not.”

  “Your seers report that the Sea-Priests are readying a fleet to sail from the Ostisles,” reports Bassil.

  “They are doubtless sailing eastward, but not to Man­suur.”

  Bassil raises his eyebrows, but does not speak.

  Outside the private study of the Liedfuhr, the wind moans. The snowflakes are smaller, and falling faster, and the light dims as the clouds overhead darken, as if winter is returning to Mansuus.

  “This Secca--- Lord Robero’s new Sorceress Protector of the East--- she has destroyed all the Sturinnese vess
els that had threatened Liedwahr. Do you think that the Maitre of Sturinn will decide to invade us while he has forces in Du­mar that are threatened by the sorceress?”

  “She remains in Encora for the moment.” Bassil pauses. “Yet it is most likely that she will travel to Dumar and use her sorcery against the Sea-Priests there before the Maitre can re­inforce them. That will not be easy for her. The Maitre can use the sea to land more sorcerers and lancers, but it will be weeks, if not longer, before the snows melt enough for Lord Robero to send reinforcements to Lady Secca”

  “He will not send them even then,” predicts Kestrin. “He fears Belmar as much as the Sturinnese. Lady Secca has been successful without further aid. Lady Clayre is slowly losing in Neserea, as you have pointed out, and Aerlya and Annayal may have to flee before long.”

  “Where?"

  Kestrin sighs. “Perhaps to Nordwei.”

  “It is yet winter there.”

  “And you question that I should send lancers into Nes­erea?”

  “I cannot see how you could do otherwise--- when you can. They cannot cross the snows of the Mittpass yet.” Bas­sil shakes his head. “If you do not dispatch them, once the snows melt, Belmar will take all of Neserea by midsummer. But . . . if he is as bright as he seems, he will turn to face your lancers, in order to destroy them.”

  “They must not face him. Their task is to destroy those who rebelled against Aerlya.” Kestrin’s voice is hard. “If he turns, then the Sorceress of Defalk may be able to strengthen Aerlya’s hold on the north and east”

  “That is possible,” Bassil concedes, his voice, neutral.

  “Not likely, but possible,” Kestrin replies with a grim laugh. “Better that than we do nothing. The lady Secca may yet retake Dumar from the Sturinnese, but this Belmar is their tool, and even she will be hard-pressed if Neserea falls and the Sturinnese reinforcements land in Narial.”

  “Because she will be caught between him and the Sturin­nese?"

  The Liedfubr nods slowly. “Because we will then face the Sea-Priests alone.”

  Outside the study, in the growing darkness, the moaning of the returning winter wind rises with the night.

  2

  The late-morning sunlight poured over the two-story structure that held the Matriarch’s guest quarters, but the wide second-story windows that faced west were still in shadow. The air in the main chamber was hot and still, fore­shadowing summer in Encora, although by the turn of the seasons, spring had even yet to arrive.

  Rather than using the small working desk that faced away from the leftmost of the three windows, Secca had seated herself at the circular golden oak conference table, her back to the windows. Alcaren sat on the opposite side of the table, leaving four chairs vacant. The tiled hearth on the south wall held several logs set on a pair of heavy iron andirons, but it had been weeks since Secca had needed a fire.

  The petite and redheaded sorceress looked at the rose that lay on top of the papers before her on the conference table--­a perfect white rose, appearing so delicate that the slightest breeze would rip off the petals. But like so much in Lied­wahr, the rose was not what it seemed, for the petals were of white bronze and the stem of a greenish iron--- and it had been Alcaren’s love gift to her, one she had never expected.

  Her amber eyes went from the rose to Alcaren--- narrow­waisted and broad-shouldered, almost too short for his breadth to be handsome, yet not stocky, with short-cut brown hair and gray-blue eyes. He wore the pale blue Ran­uan uniform and the collar insignia of an overcaptain. As he felt Secca’s eyes upon him, he looked up from the map he had been studying and smiled warmly.

  In spite of herself, Secca flushed.

  “I do the same thing,” he said with a slight laugh, adding, “when you look at me.”

  She shook her head. “It is hard to get used to.”

  “I know. No one ever looked at me that way?"

  Secca wondered about that, and yet, she didn’t. Alcaren was barely a head taller than she was, and he was striking, but not necessarily handsome. He was a largely untrained sorcerer in a land that feared sorcery, and a strong man in a land ruled by women. “We still need a consorting cere­mony,” she said slowly.

  “You sound dubious, my lady. Am I that much of a bur­den to bear?"

  At the mock-woeful tone of his voice and the twinkle in his eyes, Secca laughed. “You are no burden. Far from that! Still, it is strange.”

  Alcaren waited, his smile encouraging her to speak.

  “It is strange, and it is not. After these years, I had not thought to find love.”

  “Though I have not traveled as you have, my lady,” he replied gently, “neither had I.”

  “I had thought, were I ever to be consorted, it would be in Falcor, or Flossbend, or even Loiseau . . . not in a strange land.”

  “We could wait,” he suggested. “I would not wish to rush you into such."

  Secca shook her head. “Lady Anna waited even to ac­knowledge her love for Lord Jecks, and I fear she lost years of happiness because she delayed.” A sad smile crossed Secca’s lips as she thought of the woman who had been more than a mentor, more than a teacher a mother as well, in fact, if not in name. Secca doubted that she would ever recall Anna without love, emptiness, and a sense of regret that she had not told Anna how much the older woman had meant to her.

  After a silence, Secca added, “I need you, both for myself and for what we do. I would not have it said that our alliance was disharmonious or merely of bodily needs.”

  Alcaren raised his eyebrows.

  Secca found herself flushing again, wondering how she had been able to ignore the sheer magnetism of her consort-to-be for as long as she had. “I did not say. . .“ She laughed once more, shaking her head as she did.

  Alcaren laughed as well.

  As the moment of shared joy passed, Secca cleared her throat gently, repeating, "We must have a consorting cere­mony before we leave Encora.”

  “Because you’re a Lady of Defalk.”

  “And so that the Ladies of the Shadows know that I’m going to carry you off away from Ranuak.” Secca smiled mischievously for a moment ‘Does the Matriarch perform such ceremonies?”

  “Seldom. . . but she can.”

  “Surely, she would do that for a beloved cousin.”

  “She would more likely do so to make sure her beloved cousin was leaving Encora forever,” replied Alcaren dryly as he rose from the chair and stepped back, stretching, be­fore looking past Secca toward the windows and the harbor beyond.

  “I think she would like to see you happy,” Secca said.

  “Oh. . . that she would. Happy with a lovely woman and a beautiful sorceress. . . and happily gone from Encora and on our way to save Liedwahr from the scourge of the Sea-Priests. With song-sorceries used to great effect elsewhere.”

  Secca nodded agreement, even as she sensed the under-lying bitterness. “But she would perform the consorting cer­emony.”

  “I am most certain she would.”

  “I will send her a request by messenger,” replied the petite redhead, “after we meet with the others.”

  “Will you also send a message to Lord Robero?”

  “Yes, but not by sorcery, and not soon. Perhaps I will wait to tell him personally.” Secca grinned. “He did say that I needed to consider the matter of heirs.”

  Alcaren’s mouth opened.

  Secca laughed once more. “Not now, but with you able to do sorcery, I could have children without fearing all would be after me while I was weakened.”

  “I am not...” he replied slowly.

  “You can certainly sing a scrying spell already,” Secca pointed out “That is not forbidden, even by the Ladies of the Shadows.”

  “The idea of greater sorcery, it feels strange,” Alcaren replied.

  “Best you get used to it if we are to contend with the Sea-Priests.” Secca eased to the working desk, bent over, and lifted the lutar from the case beside the left end of the desk. She
began to check the tuning.

  “You want me to try a scrying spell now?” he asked.

  “Why not? We need to check on the Sturinnese ships before we meet with the others. I’ll do the first one, and then I’ll write the words for the second.”

  “You have high visions of my ability.”

  Secca shook her head. “I know what you can do.” She pulled on the copper-tipped leather gloves, then stepped to the conference table and looked down at the scrying glass in the middle before clearing her throat She’d already run through a series of vocalises before Alcaren had arrived, and they should have been enough for scrying spells.

  Chording the lutar, she sang.

  “Mirror, mirror, show me clear and as before,

 

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