Darksong Rising (15 page)

Anna laughed. “You know better?”

Essan nodded. “Now... what lies ahead for you? You have that restless demeanor.”

Anna stood. “I have to get ready for the trip to Fussen.”

“Lord Vlassa’s brats? They still squabble over the lands?”

“Not exactly squabble. The older one demands I recognize him: the younger suggests that the

high-handed style of his brother will ruin all the craftsmen.”

“Like as both be right. You needs must recognize the older, and if he be like his father, he will

ruin the lands. Donjim had to lean an axe against young Vlassa’s face—he was young in those

years. We all were." Essan smiled. “I prattle on. Go and tend your work, near-daughter, and

thank you for remembering me.”

Anna returned the smile, wishing she’d been able to do that more often with her own mother.

Then she slipped out of the chamber and turned back toward the receiving room where Jecks

doubtless waited—Jecks and all the scrolls and details she still hadn’t ironed out.

She took a deep breath. Behind her near-silent steps echoed the heavier boots of her guards.

13

Thrap. A knock... more of a tap... sounded on Anna’s
 
chamber door.

Anna looked up from the seemingly endless pile of scrolls, rubbing her eyes, in the pool of

candlelight that fell across the writing desk. Outside, the sky had not quite faded from deep

purple into the darkness of night, although she could see the small bright disc of the larger

moon—Clearsong—through the window. Darksong, the smaller red moon associated with the

ill-regarded and self-destructive sorcery that affected living things, had not risen or had already

set. Anna still hadn’t exactly figured out the moons’ periods.

Who could it be at the door? The guards normally announced anyone, except, sometimes, Jecks,

who would announce himself. “Yes?”

“It’s Secca, Lady Anna. Might I please come in?"

“Please do.” Anna stood.

The small redheaded girl peered around the door, then stepped forward past Kerhor, bowed, and

shut the door behind her. “I heard you burned your hand and face this morning.” Secca looked at

the floor, then extended a small jar. “It’s an ointment. It helps. It helped me when I picked up the

kettle from the fire, and I brought it all the way from Flossbend.”

“Thank you.” Anna took the jar and unstoppered it.

“Just a little,” Secca advised.

The Regent dabbed the oily ointment on the reddest part of the back of her right hand, and then

at the spot on her cheek that felt tender. She restoppered the jar, and handed it back to the girl.

“Thank you. You’d better keep this. I’ll let you know if I need some more.”

“Sorcery doesn’t work on you when you’re a sorceress. Anyway, you said that sorcery on people

is Darksong. So I thought the ointment would help.”

“It does.” Anna eased herself onto the wide bed and motioned for Secca to climb up as well.

“This is like Father’s big bed.” Secca sat cross-legged beside Anna, patting the gold-and-green

comforter. “Except his is... it was... red and blue.”

“I’m glad you like the bed. You miss him, don’t you?"

“I miss him awfully, Lady Anna.”

“He was a good man. He was good to me.” Anna recalled how Lord Hryding had insisted on

supplying an escort to take her to Falcor when she had still been learning sorcery and struggling

to understand the strange land that was Defalk. You’re still struggling, and it’s still strange.

“He was good to lots of folks,” Secca confided. “Sometimes, Mother was not pleased.”

“I’ll remember that he helped me when no one knew that I would be a regent.” Anna patted the

redhead’s shoulder.

“Did you really use sorcery on Calmut? To put cold water on him?” Secca smiled broadly, as

though she knew the answer, but wanted to hear the story.

“I didn’t want to, but he wasn’t going to let me see your father,” Anna admitted. “I didn’t think

he’d get so angry.” She fingered her chin. “I should have known, but I wasn’t thinking. That

water was cold.”

Secca giggled. “1 wish I could do that someday.”

“Perhaps you can. We’ll see when you’re older.”

“I’d like that.” Secca nodded. “You’re leaving tomorrow? For Fussen, Lysara said.”

“That’s right We’ll leave early. It’s a long ride.”

“What are you going to do about poor Lysara? She doesn’t want to be Hoede’s consort.”

“How did you hear about that?”

“She told me. Her sister Clayre sent her a scroll telling her.”

“She doesn’t? Has she said anything?”

“Lysara’s nice. She doesn’t say anything bad about anyone. But I can tell.” Secca squirmed

closer to Anna.

The sorceress put an arm around the girl. “I suppose you can. You watch a lot, don’t you?”

“She likes Tiersen; I think he likes her, but he’s shy.” Secca yawned. “I like Lysara. Maybe

that’s because we both have red hair.” Secca yawned. “She's nice.”

“You’re tired. I’ll walk back to your room with you,” Anna said.

“You don’t have to.” The redhead yawned again.

“I’d like to.” It’s been too long since someone wanted you to walk them to bed, or tuck them in.

“You’re the Regent,” protested Secca, stifling a yawn.

“That means I can walk you to bed if I want to.” Anna smiled as she slipped off the bed and took

Secca’s hand. The two walked out into the stone-floored corridor, and with the padding of

Secca’s feet, Anna realized the girl was barefoot Behind them, discreetly, followed Rickel and

Kerhor.

“You ... the guards... follow... everywhere...” Secca said, trying not to yawn.

“That’s part of being a regent.”

“Father... he said... you’d be good....”

“You’re too tired.” With a smile, Anna reached over and swept up Secca, carrying her up the

stairs, amazed at how little the ten-year-old weighed.

“Father... he did that.”

Anna swallowed as she concentrated on the steps. Secca’s room was m the south tower, one level

up, little more than a single-windowed cube with a bed, a chest, and a narrow armoire. Anna set

Secca on the bed.

“It’s not very big, but it’s big enough for me, and it’s all mine,” the girl said as she pulled back

the coverlet on the narrow bed. Another yawn followed. “It is, isn’t it?”

“So long as I’m Regent, and, if I’m not, you can come to Loiseau with me.”

“Good.”

Anna eased the covers around the little redhead. “Good night, Secca.”

“Good night, lady. Thank you for thinking of Lysara.” The small voice was sleepy. “Tiersen’s

nice, you know. He just doesn’t want anyone to know.”

“Sleep tight,” Anna managed to say softly, holding back the tears. “Sleep tight.”

Rickel’s and Kerhor’s footsteps echoed dully on the floor stones as Anna made her way back to

her room—her lonely room.

For a time, she stood by the window, looking out in the daikness toward the Falche River, her

eyes resting on Clearsong, glad, absently, that the red point of light that was Darksong was not in

that night’s sky. The faint murmur of insects rustled out of the darkness, and a light breeze

ruffled her short hair.

With a sigh, she turned and walked to the desk. She sat and dipped the quill, beginning to write.

My dear lord Birfels,

I have received your scroll about Lysara, and I deeply appreciate your concerns, and those of

your consort, about your daughter. She is attractive, intelligent, and most perceptive, and she is

the daughter of a most noble and respected house. For these reasons, and many others, I do not

believe that a match between Hoede and Lysara would be in Lysara’s interests, in your interests,

or in the interests of the Regency. True to my word, as I promised in Abenfel, I am pursuing a

more suitable union, and one with which I trust you will find no fault. Because this will take

several weeks, I ask for your patience and forbear-

Anna paused. What of the other daughter—Clayre? She didn’t deserve Hoede, either, and Anna

had no doubt that Fylena would transfer the match to Clayre, if only to push Anna into finding a

better consort for the younger daughter of Lady Trien. After a moment, she continued writing,

the quill scratching in the puddle of light thrown by the candles in the midst of the growing

darkness of her chamber.

Because Lysara will soon be consorted, I also offer an invitation for Clayre to come to Falcor,

where she will be most warmly received. As I am doing for Lysara, I will also pursue available

opportunities for Clayre, once she has had a chance to learn more about Falcor and what the

future holds for Defalk.

Anna couldn’t threaten, but hopefully, by making the offer, she could remove Clayre from

Abenfel. Fylena might not be quite so eager to pair off her second stepdaughter to whoever

might be available at the moment, not with the suggestion that Hoede was unsuitable and the

promise of a better match.

When Anna had added more compliments and flowery language, she signed the second scroll,

leaving it unsealed for Dythya to have Skent copy it. The dark-haired page could be trusted to

keep matters to himself. That she had learned and was glad for. Then, Skent’s like you. He

doesn’t come from a long line of prickly nobles.

She would have liked to have had the equivalent of a trusted secretary, but Skent and Dythya

were the only two besides Jecks who could write and whom she could fully trust. Secretaries,