Darksong Rising (44 page)

“Two companies first,” suggested Jecks.

Anna nodded.

“Purple and gold companies to the fore!” ordered Himar.

Anna, Jecks, Jimbob, Kinor, and Liende and the players gathered to one side of the clay-packed

causeway leading to the bridge as the two companies crossed and formed up on the northern

side. Then Jecks and Blaz started across, and it was Anna’s turn.

The bridge flexed, alarmingly to Anna, under Farinelli’s weight, even as they took it in single

file with no more than two mounts on the structure at a time. On the north side, as she waited for

the remainder of the long line of lancers, Anna retuned the lutar, her eyes flicking along the north

river road every few moments. Except for her escort and her own force, both roads remained

empty.

Skent led his company—the cyan company—across the bridge with a show of confidence. Anna

just hoped the young man was not too confident.

Once all had crossed, and they rode slowly back westward toward Synek, Anna studied the

southern riverbank, the one that showed the most damage—more than half the area within a

hundred yards of the water had not been repaired or rebuilt, and pile after pile of bricks and

debris filled the ground. In a few places, dwellings and shops, seemingly rebuilt from the yel-

lowish bricks, rose in clumps.

Anna swallowed. While she had not meant to visit such destruction on Synek... she had. The

most damning obituary, someone said, is: "She meant well." You meant well, and did worse. Yet

what else could she have done?

“There is Lord Hadrenn’s hold.” The guide gestured to a structure built of tan stone and yellow

brick, not even so large as Loiseau, set on a hilltop perhaps a dek to the north of Synek. “We take

the next lane.”

An effort had been made to fill in the worst of the potholes on the side road, and to cut back trees

and bushes, some of the saw cuts so recent that Anna could smell the odor of pine resin and other

saplike odors.

The hold itself lacked a separate wall for fortification, but the windows on the lowest level were

infrequent, small, and iron-barred. Otherwise, the mansion appeared more like an English

country estate, but without either lawns or gardens. Several outbuildings flanked the dwelling

hall, and one was newly built of old yellow bricks. Armsmen’s and lancers, quarters, no doubt.

“This is Lord Hadrenn’s family home and birthplace,” explained the guide.

The man who rode out alone down the road from the mansion toward them was stocky, almost

overweight, for all that he was probably less than thirty years old, Anna estimated. He was

already mostly bald, and a scar ran from the side of his nose to below his right ear. Anna

recognized him from her efforts at scrying him.

“Regent and sorceress?” His voice was surprisingly uncertain

“Yes, Lord Hadrenn. I’m Lady Anna, Sorceress and Regent of Defalk.” Anna gestured. “This is

Lord High Counselor Jecks; Lord Jimbob, heir to Defalk; Liende, my chief of players; and

Overcaptain Himar.”

Hadrenn inclined his head deeply. “To bring such... you honor me. You honor Synek.” When he

looked up, Anna noted that his eyes were deep and brown, almost cowlike except for the

intentness and concentration they held.

“There is much to do,” Anna temporized.

The young lord bowed again. “Lady Regent, I cannot say I expected you to come to my aid...

even after your messenger arrived.”

Anna smiled politely. “I am here... and we need to talk about what we should do. After we are

settled and somewhat refreshed.”

At her shoulder, Jecks nodded.

44

ENCORA, RA.NUAK

 
The blonde woman taps on the study door, a door slightly ajar.

“You may come in, Alya,” responds the Matriarch.

Alya slides through the door and closes it behind her, if gently and nearly silently. “You have

heard, Mother?” Her eyes focus directly on the round-faced Matriarch, who wears gray and

black, not the usual garb of brighter colors.

“About the fate of the freewomen in Elahwa?” The Matriarch looks up from the sheet of

parchment on the table-desk and nods somberly. “Your sister still lives. Beyond that, I do not

know.”

“Did you... have to... send her?”

The Matriarch looks up at her older daughter with eyes that are reddened. and ringed with black.

“What would you have me do? Should my own daughter not follow the rules of harmony, the

laws of Ranuak?”

“Why... why didn’t Veria listen?”

“Because she could not accept that harmony is paid for again and again, endlessly. Or that

harmony requires what it will and not what we wish. You see this. Even the sorceress from the

mist worlds understands this.” The Matriarch offers Alya a sad smile. “She does not know how

dearly she will pay.”

“She will pay... most dearly,” interjects Ulgar from the corner of the study. He has been so still

that Alya had not even noted her father’s presence. “Even now, the young Prophet of Music

gathers his forces to assault the western lords of Defalk.”

“He is proving more cunning than his sire... and less perceptive,” says the Matriarch. “All too

many will suffer for that.”

“The Regent of Defalk will turn back, then? When she has barely begun to march into Ebra?”

Alya’s voice is almost flat.

“Since young Hadrenn has pledged to her, she remains in Defalk,” explains the silver-haired

Ulgar. “And she will not turn back.”

“Father... you know what I meant.”

“Yet your father is correct," answers the Matriarch, “for what was western Ebra is now Defalk,

as well may be all of Ebra.”

“Why did the sorceress wait so long?” asks Alya plaintively. “Why did she stop to use sorcery to

wrench gold from the ground?”

“Without that gold, daughter, the sorceress could not afford to march to Elahwa. Who would

lend her the coins? Certainly not the Exchange. And how would she guarantee them? Nor could

she let the Thirty-three know of such resources before she marched. or they would demand that

she use the coins to reduce their liedgeld.”

“Men..." Alya’s voice is close to a sigh.

“Women are no better. Consider Abslim. Like those of the Defalkan Thirty-three, she considers

the weight of coins first and sees what she will see, and not what is there to see.”

“Still... I would that the sorceress could have reached Elahwa before the dog of the north.”

“Your sister could not expect to be rescued by the very ruler she condemned.” points out Ulgar.

“Not even by the twisted laws of Darksong.”

Alya draws along, slow, and silent breath.

45

 
Anna smoothed the green traveling gown into place, checking the cinches at her waist, far

smaller than she had ever thought to see again, centered the link necklace, wiggled her toes in the

loose sandals, then glanced around the guest chamber—a single large room without bathing

facilities, although an older brass tub had been dragged in and hurriedly polished, then

surrounded by screens. A pair of ancient porcelain chamber pots glazed with a faded rose pattern

rested in the far corner of the room away from the tub, the writing desk, and the fourpostered

bedstead and its array of netting.

The windows bore no glass, only heavy outer shutters and louvered inner ones, both sets oiled at

some time in the distant past, but not recently.

No wonder Hadrenn needs help. She couldn’t help but consider the wisdom of her decision to

support the young lord of Synek. Except, as always, the alternatives appear worse, especially

with Ebra under the heavy male thumb of Bertmynn... so you will accept the lighter thumb of

Hadrenn?

She winced as she considered the scenes of Elahwa she had called up in the mirror. You couldn’t

have gotten there in time, even if you‘d gone straight from Pamr. But if you’d decided earlier...

As she opened the door, she shook her head. You can’t live on “ifs.”

Four guards were stationed in the brick-floored and dusty hall outside Anna’s door—Rickel,

Lejun, Kerhor, and Blaz. Anna raised her eyebrows.

“This hold is less secure,” answered Rickel. “Both Lord Jecks and the overcaptain agree.”

“I wouldn’t dispute either on that.” Anna offered a short, wry laugh, then managed to contain a

sneeze. She’d definitely need a bit of sorcery before she slept in the guest bed, or she’d be so

allergenic she’d spend the entire night sneezing, and that would weaken her voice for days. That

was something she certainly couldn’t afford.

“I am gladdened that you would not.” Jecks stepped from the door down the hall, wearing the

blue dress tunic that served the same purpose as Anna’s gown. He bowed, then smiled as he

straightened. “As always, you are most beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” Anna’s lips curled, and she leaned forward and murmured almost into his ear. “I

look more like a boy than a woman.”

“No one would mistake your beauty for other than it is—”

“What? That of a tightened bow, of a woman most solitary and stern?” Anna couldn’t resist the

paraphrase of Yeats. though she doubted she was any Maude Gonne. Or Helen. Then... do you

really want to be?

A momentary frown crossed the white-haired 1ord’s face, then vanished. “Lord Hadrenn will be

most astonished.”

“He might be, but for all the wrong reasons.”

Followed by both Rickel and Kerhor, Anna and Jecks descended the main staircase, its wooden