Darksong Rising (21 page)

armsmen... he thought that her first consort had been killed in a skirmish, yet... there has been no

talk of brigands or raiders, or of Nesereans. . ." The overcaptain shrugged.

“So... there have been some hidden battles between the brothers?” Anna nodded slowly.

“That... that is what I heard.” With a nod, Himar dropped back.

Anna rode silently for a time.

“You are quiet, my lady,” Jecks said.

“Ustal is going to be a problem." The difficulty Anna faced was simple. While everything she’d

seen and heard indicated that Ustal was generally pleasantly despicable, his actions were within

what most Defalkans would have considered acceptable behavior for a lord—and certainly

within the bounds of acceptability as defined by most members of the Thirty-three.

“Many lords are like Ustal,” observed Jecks. “Perhaps wiser in some ways, perhaps more

discreet, but not that different.”

“That’s why he’s a problem." Anna frowned, then glanced at Jecks. “Liende said that not that

many lords could use a glass or scrying pond. . ."

Jecks smiled. “I could not, for I cannot hold a tune, and never had I players until Liende and the

others fled to EIheld.”

Anna frowned. So... perhaps many lords knew far less about what occurred than she had thought.

Messengers cost coins, and that meant communications were not exactly that frequent or speedy

in Defalk. “I have to think about this.” And a lot of things.

Jecks nodded slowly, but did not speak as they continued southward.

Sudborte itself was scarcely more than a hamlet, with a single row of stores, including a single-

storied chandlery that could not have been more than five yards wide and not that much deeper.

A red hound sat on the narrow porch of the chandlery, tied to one of the posts. His eyes followed

the horses, but he did not howl or bark. Anna wasn’t sure whether the dog might not have offered

the slightest pleading moan, as though he would have liked to follow the riders. While Anna

could sense someone observing her, no one stepped onto the porch. The single street of Sudborte

remained deserted, at least until well after the Regent’s force had passed through the town itself.

The keep was on the west side of Sudborte, a square structure less than twenty-five yards on a

side, with rough-quarried, redstone walls six or seven yards high. There was only one tower,

rising another two yards above the parapets of the walls and set to the right of the single wooden

gate. Several outbuildings of wood, including what appeared to be a stable, had clearly been

constructed later.

A pair of armsmen stood on the parapets above the open gate, but neither had a weapon at hand

as the column rode toward the keep.

“Lady…” Himar cleared his throat.

Anna nodded. “You can take some men and check it out.” Himar looked puzzled for a moment,

and Anna almost grinned. Sometimes, Earth colloquialisms did not translate even though the

languages were similar. “Make sure it’s safe,” she added, reining up. Jecks and the players reined

up as well, while Himar took a score of armsmen and proceeded.

“At times, my lady, you do trust too much,” Jecks murmured quietly.

He was probably right, although she had trusted not so much in Falar’s goodness as her own

sorcery. But sorcery isn’t always that precise... or your spells aren't. “That’s why I listen to you

and Himar.” She smiled impishly. “I did wear that breastplate, you remember, and I did enchant

those shields.”

"That you did, my lady, and for that all of us are grateful…” A hint of a smile flickered in the

hazel eyes of the white-haired lord, but not upon his lips.

Shortly, Himar rode back. “It appears safe enough. There are but a handful of armsmen, but we

will keep watch.” He glanced toward Liende, suggestively.

Anna smiled wryly and called, “Chief player! Have the players standing ready. When we

dismount, have them run through the short flame song.” They need to be in practice for that sort

of thing anyway.

“Yes, Regent”

Anna turned in the saddle and unfastened the lutar case, then extracted the instrument, holding it

while Jecks leaned over and refastened the empty case in place. Then, they followed Himar

toward the small redstone keep.

A red-haired young man stood by the open gate, with but two armsmen beside him. As Anna

reined up, he bowed deeply. “Regent, welcome to Sudborte. I am Falar.” He stood, waiting,

almost as if Anna might order his capture or death.

“This is the Regent,” Jecks announced.

         
-

“And that is Lord Jecks, High Lord Counselor of Defalk,” Anna said, “Overcaptain Himar, and

Chief of Players Liende.”

Falar paled ever so slightly, even as he bowed to each figure.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Anna said.

“I had hoped for that, Regent and sorceress.” Falar bowed again. “I can but offer meager

hospitality, far less grand than can my brother, Lord Ustal.” Unlike his brother, Falar was red-

haired, with a pale freckled complexion, and barely taller than Anna. He was slender and lacked

the overt muscular toughness displayed by Ustal or even the wiriness of some armsmen. Yet, he

offered a smile that held a hint of roguishness.

Himar deployed lancers both outside the keep and within the courtyard, some mounted, and

some on foot. Liende set the players to practicing in a shaded corner on the east side behind the

open gate.

Anna dismounted, carefully, still holding the lutar, and Falar led them to a hall—less than ten

yards long and half that in width—where he gestured to the single chair at the head of the table

flanked by benches. “If you would, Regent?”

Anna sat. Rickel and Lejun stationed themselves behind her, while Jecks sat on the bench to her

left, leaving the one on the right for Falar.

“You wished to tell me..." ‘ Anna began gently.

“Lady, Regent, sorceress, I am not a powerful-looking man. My brother is. He looks like a lord

should look. He believes He is a lord, but he is not the lord for Fussen.”

“Why do you believe you should be the heir to Fussen?” Anna asked bluntly.

“Because Ustal will ruin Fussen. He has already begun. I do not believe I would be the best lord,

but I will not ruin the land and its people.” Falar cleared his throat. “I do not speak well of

myself, but I have waiting some folk, in hopes you would come. If you would but hear their

words?”

“Who are these folk?” asked Jecks, his voice even.

“Trades people, crafters, Lord Jecks. I would have the Regent hear each in turn, if that would be

acceptable."

Jecks glanced toward Anna. She nodded.

Falar gestured toward the slim youth who stood in the doorway of the hall. The youth ducked out

of sight, then returned with a stooped figure who walked to the foot of the table—a good four

yards from Anna.

‘This is Gheratt,” Falar explained. “He is the millwright at the sawmill."

Gheratt was a wiry man, slightly taller than Jecks, slightly stooped with gray-and-brown hair. He

wore a clean brown tunic, dark blue trousers, and battered brown-leather boots. “My sire built

the mill to the west of here, on the Eisig River. Then Lord Vlassa told him that a tenth part of

what he took in would go to Fussen. Lord Ustal has sent a scroll demanding a fifth part.”

“Did he offer a reason?” asked Jecks.

“Nay, ser. Not excepting that he expected a reckoning in writing... and who would keep that?”

asked Gheratt. “I be a miller, not a scribe."

“He claimed you weren’t paying what you owed and asked for twice that?” asked Anna.

“Aye..." Gheratt said. “and his men said he’d take the mill iffen I didn’t pay, either in coin or

timber."

Falar gestured again. Gheratt stepped back, replaced by a younger, burlier, black-haired man

wearing coarsely woven gray-linen trousers and shirt. “This is Reytal, the smith in Sudborte.”

“Lady... Regent… the smith stammered. “It be... like... always... My tariff to the lord‘s... been

four blades a year... one each season...”

Anna kept her nod to herself. From what she’d heard, even a cheap blade was worth half a gold.

and that meant the smith was paying the equivalent of between two and six golds a year.

“At summer turn, the armsmen came... told me... Lord Ustal . . . said that I must provide eight

blades...”

After the smith came a cooper, and then a weaver, and a fuller, and each had a similar tale to tell,

and Anna listened to each.

When the fuller had left the small hall, Falar looked to Anna. "They were all I could gather when

I heard you might be coming, but others would say the same. If you wish, you could talk to any

crafter..."

“They seem to tell the truth,” Jecks said. “but all tell the truth as they see it.”

“That is true, but all tell of vastly increased tariffs, tariffs they can scarce pay,” responded Falar.

“You saw the armsmen. I had to hire such, for my dear brother sent his after me, and yet I raised

neither blade nor word against him then."

“You do now,” pointed out Jecks.

“Would you not... after this?” asked Falar, his eyes turning to Anna once more. “Might I ask

your inclinations on the succession?”

“You can, but it’s something I’ll have to think about,” Anna replied, as she stood and glanced at

Jecks.

“Will you stay?” asked Falar. “We have but little, yet it is yours to command.”

“I appreciate your hospitality, Falar, but much as we would like to do so. we need to be on our