Darksong Rising (55 page)

Ranuans. At the very least, they won’t oppose you. You have Gestatr, and his judgment is sound.

What else do you need?” If Hadrenn can’t handle it now, he’ll never handle it.

“Gestatr said that you would be fair... no matter what it cost you. I was not certain.” Hadrenn

bowed his head. “Synek and Ebra will stand before and behind you, Regent and sorceress, for

none could have a better ally nor a worse enemy.” Hadrenn looked up, his eyes upon Anna. “I

will not keep you, but I will also tell Stepan your words of wisdom, and we will begin." He

paused. “Can I offer you an escort? You lost lancers, and you brought few enough.”

“Just the score you’ll need to bring back the golds I’ll send. And an officer or subofficer you

trust.”

“You shall have them.” Hadrenn bowed again.

As the younger lord turned, Anna drew Jecks toward her. “I didn’t mean for you...

“Who else, my lady?”

‘Thank you.” Anna smiled. “I don’t say that enough. Especially to you, without you... without

you, I wouldn’t be here."

“I think not, my lady. Without you, Defalk and Elheld would yet lie under Behlem’s boots and I

in an unmarked grave.”

Anna shook her head. “I won’t argue this one, but I don’t agree. We’d better get ready.”

Now... all you have to do is march across two countries and figure out how to defeat another

madman without losing any more lancers—and that doesn't even count all the problems you

don't know about.

57

Under a gray and misting sky that had threatened a full rain all morning, the green banner of

Synek and the purple-and-gold banner of Defalk headed the column of lancers riding toward the

eastern end of the river town whose name Anna did not know.

Rickel and Kerhor had brought out the heavy shields as they neared the town and had moved up

to flank Anna. Jecks surveyed the small daub-and-wattle dwellings at the edge of the town, and

then the wood-and-brick ones nearer the center of the hamlet.

Several figures peered out of open windows, and the column slowed as someone from the town

called something to the Ebran lancers.

Anna glanced over her shoulder at the distant rumble of thunder, but the gentle mist did not

intensify.

Sylvarn—the subofficer in charge of Hadrenn’s lancers— replied loudly. “The sorceress and

Lord Hadrenn defeated Bertmynn, and Lord Hadrenn is now Lord High Counselor of all Ebra,

thanks be to the Regent and Sorceress of Defalk, his ally and supporter.”

 
"...who will rule Dolovr’

“Lord Bertmynn’s heirs will hold his lands, and the free-women will hold Elahwa—at the

sorceress’ insistence—but both pledge allegiance and fealty to Lord Hadrenn.”

A low murmur, not entirely friendly, followed Sylvarn’s second response. Rickel and Kerhor

edged closer to Anna, their shields higher.

“The sorceress is returning to her demesnes... for her assistance is no longer necessary, but

Defaik and Ebra have pledged friendship, and there will be peace between them.” Sylvarn

blurted out.

 
"...peace...after the fire flood..." .

 
"...peace... why not?”

“Better peace than war...”

In the time it took Anna to ride the hundred yards to the small square, people poured from the

buildings and stood, watching as the cavalcade made its way along the damp clay of the road,

past, first, a small chandlery, and then past a cooper’s.

“That’s her!” whispered a high voice, either a young boy or girl. “The evil sorceress!”

“I don’t want to hear it. She’s not evil now,” answered a woman. “She slew the war-dog of the

north.”

“But the man said..."

“The officer said,” repeated a stronger voice.

“The sorceress slew the war-dog; young Hadrenn could not have done so himself."

“But she made the mountain of fire..."

“Hush…”

Abruptly, the girl ran to the front of the cooper’s porch and called, “Sorceress... did you slay the

war-dog of the north?”

Anna wanted to sigh, but she turned in the saddle to face the smudged-faced child and answered.

“Yes. He used Darksong, but Clearsong was stronger. He died in fire.”

“Darksong..."

“Darksong..." The word passed through the small crowd of perhaps forty souls, repeated again

and again. Some seemed to shudder at the word itself.

“Well put,” murmured Jecks.

Luckily put was more like it, Anna thought, but she kept a smile on her face all the rest of the

way through the town—a smile on her face, but eyes that looked everywhere. Neither Rickel nor

Kerhor lowered their shields until the entire column was through the town and well along the

River Syne on the road leading to the Sand Pass.

58

MANSUUS, MANSUUR

"So...Bassil... she has vanquished Bertmynn, and placed young lordlet Hadrenn as her puppet

over all Ebra.” The Liedfuhr’s hazel eyes flash, seemingly turning black momentarily, and he

leans forward, putting his large hands on the polished walnut of the desk standing before the

open windows of his private study. “And she has given the Matriarch a foothold in Ebra, without

the slightest of requests and without any concessions from Ranuak.”

“Yes, sire.” The raven-haired lancer officer bows. “She also lost near-on a third of the lancers

accompanying her, and she must return to Defalk, traverse the entire land, and meet with the

overwhelming forces of your grandson.”

“And most probably a hundredscore of my own lancers—as you recommended, Bassil.”

“If she loses... then you bring all your forces into Neserea and Defalk because of the instability,

and you will control all of Liedwahr. Neither Lady Siobion nor Lord Hadrenn can stand against

you, and the Ranuans will remain as they always have. The Sturinnese will have to look

elsewhere, and you have the beginnings of your empire of magic, sire. And you will not have to

offer Aerlya to Rabyn.”

“That... that…even I would never do, and I do not wish to hear aught of that again.” The

Liedfuhr’s tone is like the ice of the polar caps south of Pelara.

“Yes, sire.”

“Now... how does your logic run, if the sorceress wins— again?” questions Konsstin.

“Then you hold by your bargain and offer her half of Neserea. The Council of Wei will not move

against her. Nor will the Matriarchy, and in all events she will take the rest of her long life to

settle the internal affairs of what she holds in Defalk and Neserea. You will consolidate your

hold on western Neserea, and Mansuur will be the most powerful land in Liedwahr."

“You make it sound so easy—for both me and the sorceress.”

“For you, sire, there is little risk. The sorceress gambles much, in everything that she ventures.

She attempts to remake a land that has undone everyone who has tried such. She will anger the

Matriarchy and the SouthWomen because she does too little for their taste, and the old lords of

Ebra and Defalk because she changes too much. Your grandson understands neither, nor will he,

even when he perishes, and that will not be long, even should he defeat the sorceress.”

“Now you are a prophet?”

Bassil laughs at the Liedfuhr’s ironic tone. “No, sire. He schemes openly. He has poisoned

wenches and innocent girls alike because they displease him, and he will soon take those goods

and women he wants. With each taking, more will hate him, until there are so many against him

that he will have no supporters. Even should he defeat the sorceress, he cannot take Defalk. Who

has the lancers to wage thirty-three separate campaigns a land away?”

“The sorceress has taken Defalk.”

“No, I must differ, sire. She has improved the lot of perhaps half the lords, and cowed the others

into submission. Some of those cowed will rebel, or plot, or both, for they detest a woman of

power, and it will take years for her to deal with them all in order to truly unite Defalk. And she

acts to restore the old line, which gains her much of her appeal. Rabyn would not have the

support of any lords.”

“We shall see, Bassil.”

“Yes, sire.”

“Best you are right.”

Bassil nods. He does not wipe his damp forehead, a forehead that has perspired despite the cool

breeze from the open windows of the Liedfuhr’s study.

59

 
Anna glanced into the low sun, squinting through the dust to see if she could make out the

outlines of Loiseau, but all she saw was a flock of sheep to the right of the road and a half a dek

north.

“Sheep—there wasn’t anything out here last year,” she said to Jecks, holding off a cough from

the dust until she finished her words.

“So long as they do not graze too many,” he said.

Anna had to nod at his words. That was something else she needed to discuss or leave a scroll

about for Halde—the condition of the land and to watch that it wasn’t overgrazed. She shook her

head. She didn’t even know when Halde was leaving Synfal. Even using the scrying mirror, there

was so much she didn’t know, and half the time she ended up with headaches from trying to find

out too much through scrying.

Her legs were sore, and assorted aches permeated muscles she’d not been aware she had. At

least, not since the last long trip. Harvest had probably come in most of Defalk while she’d been