Darksong Rising (25 page)

still and warm air. Anna readjusted her hat and glanced over her shoulder, past Lejun and Blaz

toward Skent and Liende, riding side by side. Behind them rode the rest of the players, led by

Palian and Yuarl. The column of lancers following the players stretched back past the wheat field

and past the woodlot that lay farther west along the road. Farther back, dust was rising high

enough that the lancers in the rear were breathing and eating dust.

Anna turned her attention back to the lord riding easily on her right

“A far better harvest than in many years." Jecks gestured toward the field and the workers.

“Is that true on your lands?” Anna asked.

“I would hope so, but I have not seen such, nor heard." Jecks smiled. “Being Lord High

Counselor keeps one away from those lands."

“I’m keeping you from your duties? Is that what you’re telling me?” Anna parried lightly.

“My duties are with my Regent." Jecks’ voice took on a deep and ponderous tone.

“Oh... such devotion to duty..." Anna grinned broadly, but tried to keep from laughing. She failed

and laughed gently.

“I would hear you laugh more,” the handsome lord said.

You wish you could... but why aren’t you? It’s a beautifid day, and there’s nothing else you can

do until you return to Falcor—except worry. “I should... sometimes it’s hard to put things aside.”

“The careworn Regent.. .“ Jecks chuckled. “She should care for herself, as well as her subjects."

“Look!” Anna pointed to the hawk that was diving into the corner of the field.

“The reapers have disturbed a rodent."

“They’re awesome. Hawks.”

Jecks nodded. “I prefer the black falcons of the north, the wild ones."

“I’ll bet they’re spectacular.”

‘They can stun a coney with their dive."

Anna paused, recalling the time she’d seen a falconer with an eagle. Where had that been? At

that Shakespeare Festival in southern Utah? “Do you have many eagles here?”

“Only in the Ostfels. They say there are fish eagles on the cliffs of Nordwei, but I have never

been there."

“I never saw any eagles the one time I was in the Ostfels.” Then, you were worried about the

road and the Evult.

“Watch ahead,” Jecks cautioned, pointing to a wagon coming westward along the road.

The driver pulled on the reins until he had slowed the two-horse team and halted the empty

wagon on the north side of the road. Himar gestured for the lancers in the vanguard to ride the

road’s south shoulder. The wagoner, a middle-aged man with a brown beard, watched

impassively as the first of the lancers rode past.

Rickel eased his mount up to flank Anna on her left as she eased Farinelli onto the south

shoulder of the road to pass the wagon and the pair of chestnut horses in the traces. The driver

bowed his head as Rickel, Anna, and Jecks passed. “Best to you, Lady Regent.”

“And to you,” Anna called back as she guided Farinelli back onto the road.

Rickel dropped back slightly with a nod to the Regent.

“Thank you,” she said.

The head guard nodded in return.

For some reason, the wagon reminded Anna of a Wells Fargo wagon, though there was not the

slightest resemblance. “We do have to do something about a postal service—the couriers to

lords, I mean." Anna reflected. “People don’t know enough about what’s going on, and that

makes it hard for them to understand."

“That blade bears two sharp edges,” Jecks said. “Do you want all the Thirty-three to know that

you share some sympathies with the Matriarch?”

“They’ll find out sooner or later..."

“Best later, when you are in a stronger seat.”

“Maybe." Anna cleared her throat, thinldng. After a moment, she asked, “What should I do about

Ustal? Send a scroll declaring that he is the Lord of Fussen? Then wait until his lands rise in

revolt?”

“If he tariffs his crafters as he is, within two years he will not have the coins to pay his liedgeld.”

Jecks smiled sadly. “And for that, you can remove a lord.”

“Won’t some of the lords of the Thirty-three be upset about my removing a lord merely for

golds? Especially if I remove the lordly and noble-looking Ustal, who treats horses and falcons

well?”

“You do not like Ustal? I would scarce have guessed.”

“Let’s hope it was not too obvious to him. He treats his falcons and mounts better than his

consort. She shrinks away from him, even in public."

“The older lords might say that was a sign of respect.” Jecks’ laugh was ironic. “They will have

to change.”

“Are you saying that to placate me?” Anna arched her eyebrows.

“No. I am saying such because it is true. They will change, or they will not long last under the

Regency.” Jecks shook his head. “Had Barjim lived, Alasia would have changed that. Even

under Lord Behlem some would have changed. The times change, but men change more slowly."

He shrugged and offered a broad and warm smile. “Some of us essay such change before it is

demanded."

“You’re doing quite nicely, thank you, Lord High Counselor. I am most appreciative—and

thankful.” You’re mare than thankful. Why can’t you say so? Why do you keep backing away?

Because you don’t want to lose your independence after working so long to get it? Because every

man has tried to tie you down?

Jecks inclined his head. “For that, I am grateful.”

Anna smiled warmly, hoping he would understand, hoping she could work out her own tangled

emotions.

22

Anna stepped out of her chamber, hurrying, and feeling as though she were already behind, even

though she’d arrived in Falcor but the night before. She made it to the corner that led to the stairs

when she stopped abruptly at the sound of voices— loud voices. The sorceress froze just before

the corner of the corridor and held out her hand to halt the guards who followed her from her

scrying room down to the receiving room where she was to meet with Jecks, and then Dythya

and Menares.

"You... and the Regent, you let that... commoner…go to Fussen, and I’m the heir.” Jimbob’s

voice carried. “You’ve dishonored me. My own grandsire, and you let her dishonor me by letting

a mere stable boy go to Fussen while I was kept in Falcor... like an infant.”

And you’re behaving Like one! Anna shook her head, but gestured at Rickel and Giellum for

silence.

"That... commoner, as you would call him, works hard. He Is worth two of you at the moment.”

Jecks’ voice carried an amount of contempt and scorn Anna had never heard. “You are fortunate

even to be alive. A woman who has no reason to care for you has had the honor to put her life in

danger time after time to preserve your patrimony. That is honor, Lord Jimbob. She has saved

your honor and your face. She has added to your lands and patrimony so that you will not face

the problems your sire did. Talk not to me of honor.”

“You love her. That’s all it is.”

“You are so blind, grandson, that you cannot see what is honorable. Not for all that it is laid

before you with trumpets and harmony.”

“You love her, and you don’t understand honor anymore. You’ve been turned to a weak old man

because you love her.”

“You’re not worthy to be in the same liedburg as she is.” Jecks’ voice turned tight.

“Oh, spare me your talk of honor, grandsire. Spare me when you’re rutting like an old goat..."

Crack!

There was a dull thud.

“You hit me...."

Anna glanced sideways. Rickel nodded approvingly, then turned his face blank as he realized

Anna was watching him.

“I am the Lord of Defalk and you hit me... spit on you..."

Crack!

“The first one was for ignorance. The second is for insolence. You will go on the punishment

detail for all the lancers this afternoon, and you will work and be whipped as necessary. You

have allowed your pride to blind you to your duties. You are a self-centered brat, and you will

learn some respect.”

"You can’t do this... I’m the heir. I’ll go to the Lady Anna... she won’t let you hurt me.”

Anna stepped around the corner.

Jimbob stood with his back against the wall, pinned there by Jecks’ large hand around his neck.

The heir’s face was flushed.

“You don’t have to go to the Lady Anna, Jimbob. I’m right here. What did you want to say?”

“You see what he’s doing to me..."

“I think it’s long overdue,” Anna said quietly. “Your grandfather and I have tried to show you

how to be a good ruler, and what you have to learn. All you seem to care about is what others

think and how you look.”

“But... I’m the heir....”

“You are the heir. But you’re not acting like one. You’re acting like a spoiled brat. I’d hoped

you’d have more sense.”

Jecks released his grasp on Jimbob.
 
Jimbob lurched forward. The imprint of the older lord’s

hand was outlined in red on the youth’s cheek.

“I’ll tell the Thirty three... you’ll see!” gasped Jimbob.

Anna shook her head slowly. “That would be stupid. You’d put yourself in their hands? You’d

go whining to them? What would they do? You don’t seem to understand. The perceptions your