Darksong Rising (33 page)

“Wasn’t it that bad in Falcor? We lived in Mencha,” Kinor replied, “and some days when the

wind blew, you couldn’t even see the fields for the dust. Once Lord Brill had to use sorcery to

move big piles of dust out of his keep, and half the trees in his apple orchard died, even with the

sorcery he used to bring water to them.”

Anna smiled. Perhaps bringing Kinor would have advantages beyond those she and Jecks had

discussed. She pulled off her floppy hat for a moment to try to let her short hair dry from the

sweat beneath, then replaced it.

“...never really saw much outside of Falcor... my sire... mother... were gone... more than they

were there in the last years..."

“I suppose they didn’t have much choice,” offered Kinor. “The lady Anna doesn’t seem to.

There’s always a problem somewhere.”

Jimbob’s reply was inaudible.

As Anna realized she was nearing Pamr—and the chandler who used Darksong—she twisted in

the saddle and reached for the lutar, half-wrestling, half-easing it from the leather case. She

fumbled to tune the instrument, and began a vocalise, “Holly-lolly-pop....”

“Arms ready!” snapped Jecks and Himar almost simultaneously.

The hazel-eyed lord’s blade was clear of his scabbard before he finished the command.

Anna could sense that both Jimbob and Kinor had drawn steel as well, but she hoped neither

would have to use a blade. As she tried to clear her throat and cords, Anna surveyed the houses

that led toward the crossroads in the middle of Pamr, her eyes shifting from one to the next as the

blond gelding carried her eastward. At the fourth or fifth house, she thought she saw a woman’s

face, but the shutters closed quickly.

Pamr was still, the streets empty, too empty for a midweek afternoon. Again. The only sounds

were those of the lancers’ murmuring, mounts breathing, and hoofs striking the dusty clay of the

street.

She let the second vocalise die away, and holding the lutar ready, continued to survey the

dwellings and buildings on both sides of the street.

At the creak of a door the Regent turned in the saddle toward the inn—The Green Bull—but the

shaded porch remained empty. Her eyes went to the chandlery across the street.

The bearded brown-haired man—the drummer Anna had seen in the scrying pool—glanced at

the column of riders, then darted back inside the building, closing the door with a thud.

“Not good,” Anna murmured. “Listen for drums..."

“Drums?” Jecks’ face clouded. “Vile things."

Despite the ominous silence and the vanishing drummer, the column passed through the center of

town and out along the north road without encountering anyone and anything—except a stray

black dog that slunk away behind a browning hedgerow on the north side of Pamr.

Anna frowned as Pamr dropped behind her. She would have liked to do something about the

young chandler—but what? She didn’t really even have any proof that he was using Dark-

song—only her own visions in a scrying pond, and she had more than enough problems in

Defalk without imprisoning or killing someone who hadn’t actually done anything.

Still... Anna did not relax her guard until she reined up in the open area below Lady Gatrune’s

mansion—or keep, where the black-bearded captain Firis stood with a smile.

“Welcome, Lady Anna.” Firis bowed. “Your presence is always welcome." He turned toward

Jecks. “And yours, Lord Jecks."

Anna gestured toward the two redheads. “Captain Firis, this is Lord Jimbob, and Kinor, one of

my students in Falcor’ Student was as good a term as any, since Kinor was neither fosterling nor

page. “And you remember Overcaptain Himar and my chief player Liende."

“Greetings and welcome,” Firis responded. “Lady Gatrune awaits you... once you take care of

that beast.”

Farinelli tossed his head, if gently, as though to suggest to Anna that he needed to be brushed and

fed.

“Yes, I know.” Arma patted the gelding’s neck, then dismounted. She looked at Jimbob and

Kinor, then Liende. “Once we have the mounts stabled, we’ll go up to the main house together:"

As she finished, she caught a glimpse of Skent leading his company toward the rear stable area.

Her words brought nods, and she turned and began to follow Firis toward the stable. Behind her

came Rickel and Lejun

Once at the stable, Lejun took both guards’ mounts, while Rickel remained within a few steps,

his hand on the hilt of his blade as Anna led Farinelli into the large stall clearly reserved for the

big gelding.

Firis stood for a moment at the end of the stall as Anna loosened the girths, and then swung the

saddle onto the rack above the stall wall.

“You still amaze me, lady."

“Why? Because I take care of Farinelli?” She slipped off the blanket and found the brush.

Firis laughed. "That... and many other things."

“Pamr seemed.., quiet.... What have you heard?”

Firis’ smile died away. “It is far too quiet, my lady. No one in the town talks to us, any of us,

except when they must.” He shrugged. “Yet... one cannot punish folk for silence.”

“Is anyone forging arms or anything?” Anna patted the gelding and began to brush out the dust

and road dirt. “Easy, there, fellow.”

“We have seen nothing. We have heard nothing. More of the men’s consorts have come here to

live. Few live in town any longer."

As she continued to groom Farinelli, Anna pursed her lips, silently pondering the situation in

Pamr. Should you have done something? What?

Firis stepped back. “Best I see that quartering is going well.” Anna smiled and nodded. As Fins

stepped away, from farther inside the stable, Anna heard some murmurs.

 
"...doesn’t even bring a lancer to groom her mount...”

 
"...you want someone to groom your mount?” Kinor’s voice was loud enough for Anna to

identify.

“Not... seemly..."

“It’s more than seemly,” answered Jecks, not quite sharply. “And it is effective, Lord Jimbob.

Your sire and your mother groomed their own mounts as well. When rulers do such, then lancers

and others do not complain and are more willing to heed orders.”

Anna nodded, wondering how long—if ever—it would be before Jimbob understood the power

of example. And the finer points in using guilt? She laughed to herself. Not all people could be

guilt-tripped, especially not all men.

Rickel and Lejun returned, and Rickel picked up the cased mirror, and Lejun Anna’s saddlebags.

“Are you ready, my lady?” Jecks appeared at the end of Farinelli’s stall as Anna stepped away,

carrying her lutar.

“More than ready. I’m hungry and filthy.”

Lejun and Rickel flanked Anna and Jecks as they left the stables. Kinor and Jimbob—and Liende

and Himor—followed the four, if several paces back. Again, Anna felt as though she led a

parade of sorts.

“Young Captain Firis ... is somewhat..." Jecks shook his head.

“Familiar?” Anna grinned. “Why... Lord Jecks. . . you sound almost jealous.”

“Me?”

Despite Jecks’ denial. Anna could see the flush under the tanned skin of the older lord. She

touched his arm gently. “If I should choose to be... familiar... with anyone...it would not be Firis.

He’s far more like a fresh younger brother who sometimes needs a scolding.”

“My lady...I did not...”

Anna squeezed his shoulder again. “You don’t need to apologize.” She smiled. "Your... I’m glad

you care.” Her boots clicked on the stones of the lower outer landing leading to the steps up to

the house. She glanced up to see Lady Gatrune and several others standing under the portico,

waiting. “Ready for more pleasantries, Lord High Counselor?”

Jecks squared his shoulders. “A quiet dinner with you, even with piles of scrolls, would be more

to my taste.”

“Mine, too... but that’s not in the cards.”

Again, as a puzzled expression flitted across Jecks’ face, Anna was reminded of how idioms

didn’t translate, even in similar languages. Like George Bernard Shaw or whoever it was that

said the Americans and British were divided by a common language.

“Regent, Lord Jecks.” A broad smile crossed the face of Lady Gatrune, whose blonde-and-white

hair was drawn back into a bun of sorts, and bound with silver-and-purple cords. “You remember

my son Kyrun?”

Kyrun retained the short blond hair Anna vaguely remembered, and the cowlick she clearly

recalled. “Lady Regent, Lord Jecks.” He bowed, then straightened.

“Lady Gatrune, Kyrun,” Anna inclined her head to the taller Gatrune, then to her son.

Jecks repeated the salutations.

“We are glad to see you, but will not trouble you until you are refreshed and we can talk at

dinner.” Gatrune offered another smile.

“Thank you. It’s always good to be here,” answered Anna. “I don’t know if you knew, but Lord

Jecks is also now Lord High Counselor.”

“Defalk could scarcely do better,” replied the rangy lady. “My brother speaks highly of you,

Lord Jecks, and he seldom speaks highly of anyone.”

Anna half-turned, gesturing to those who followed. “Lord Jimbob, Kinor, my chief of players,

Liende, and Overcaptain Himar.”

“I am pleased to welcome you all to Pamr,” Gatrune said. “We will settle you in your rooms,

first."

After following Gatrune down one corridor and up a set of wide stairs and down a second