Darksong Rising (42 page)

land dropped into the shallow bowl-like valley below the Sand Pass, and in that valley, against

the base of the Ostfels and the beginning of the Sand Pass, lay the fort raised by the sorcerer Brill

for Lord Barjim—the fort and the now-drained defense reservoir. The fort had been built to

guard the Sand Pass—the gateway to southern and eastern Ebra—and it had been the site of

Anna’s first battle in Defalk. Not exactly a resounding victory, either.

The Regent could see tracks in the ground between the clumps of grass, tracks left by fleeing

armsmen and pursuing Ebrans a year earlier, tracks that would not vanish anytime soon in the

still-dry lands of eastern Defalk, lands dry despite the return of seasonal rains.

“It will be years before these grasslands recover,” said Jecks.

"If ever," Anna replied.

“If the rains continue, they will. When I was a boy, the grass here was shoulder-high on my

mount. I would see that again.”

“So would I.” Anna blotted sweat out of her eyes once more.

“You sent that scroll to Lord Dannel?" asked Jecks, somewhat later.

“I did. I tried to be gentle, but.. .“ Anna shrugged. “If I waited or stalled him, he would be angry

because I put him off, and if I don’t change my mind, he’ll be angry."

“He will not be pleased.”

“I know. No one’s ever pleased around here. Save us, but don’t upset anything, and don’t change

anything, even if the reason why we got in trouble was because we wouldn’t change."

“Lady...you are hard on them. Change comes not easily to any man."

“I know.” She took a deep breath. “But it’s the same everywhere. I had to dismiss the granary

attendant because he wouldn’t clean out the granary before it was filled. I destroyed a family

because I wouldn’t submit to a man’s advances. Yet these people think it’s my fault. I allow a

young woman some little choice in whom she will spend her life with, and you’d think I’d... I

don’t know what..."

Jecks looked away, clearly uncomfortable, and Anna closed her mouth. The handsome lord was

still from Defalk, and nothing she said would change matters.

For another three or four deks, they rode in comparative silence, Anna shifting her weight in the

saddle occasionally, and hoping that the Sand Pass fort did lie beyond the hillcrest they

approached, and not one even farther along the road.

“How far does the Sand Pass stretch through the Ostfels?” Behind the sorceress, Kinor’s voice

rose over the murmurs of the lancers and the muted thumping of hoofs.

“If one can believe the maps, we will need to ride almost fifty deks from the fort before we clear

the eastern hills of the Ostfels,” responded Himar, “and then more than a hundred to reach

Synek.”

“A long journey with but tenscore lancers." added Jimbob.

Does he think lancers grow on trees? Anna tightened her lips, but forced herself not to reply.

Jecks glanced at Anna, rolling his eyes.

They both laughed.

"... and the Regent took all of Dumar with but fifteenscore lancers,” Himar finished. “That was

against more than a hundredscore.”

Jimbob did not reply, not audibly.

A few moments later, they reached the gentle hillcrest, and, as Anna bad hoped, the shallow

valley ahead was the one that held the Sand Pass fort, the redstone-and-brick structure almost

blending with the red rock that framed the entrance to the pass itself.

“Not much farther,” Himar said, adding, “The Regent’s banner to the fore!”

The walls of the Sand Pass fort had indeed been repaired, although the irregular lines of mortar

showed the damage infficted by the Evult’s dark magic on the stones and brickwork created by

Brill’s sorcery, and Anna doubted that the structure could withstand much more than attacks by

brigands.

The gates had been returned to place and were swung back to welcome the Regent A score of

armsmen in leathers and the purple of Defalk were formed up just inside the gateway into the

fort A gray-bearded figure stood before them.

Although she remembered Hanfor and others talking about the veteran armsman who had come

from Mencha once and who was in charge of the fort, Anna had never met him, and she

struggled to remember his name.

“Jerat,” whispered Himar from behind the Regent

“Thank you,” Anna murmured.

“Welcome, Regent and sorceress!”

“Thank you, Jerat. I am glad to see you and to offer my gratitude for all the efforts you and your

men have made to repair the fort. The last time I saw it, it was in ruins.” That’s certainly true.

Jerat bowed, then looked up. “Regent... we have done the best we can, and we continue to labor.”

“You have done much,” Anna affirmed. More than enough for a fort that’s outlived its

usefulness... You hope.

"Repairing the fort has helped us add some armsmen as well, Lady Anna. Did you know that we

have over twoscore here, and a score could go with you... should you need additional forces.”

“You have done well, Jerat, and we appreciate that” Anna managed not to wince at her own

words. You’re sounding like royalty... or a politician. She nodded and turned to Himar. “Once

everyone’s quartered and settled, perhaps you could review these armsmen with Jerat and see

whether it would be better to have them accompany us... or whether they might best be held in

reserve to follow us later. I imagine you’ll have to look into the question of supplies and

mounts... and other matters."

“Jerat and I will discuss this,” Himar said. “And perhaps the Lord High Counselor?” He glanced

toward Jecks.

Jecks smiled politely. “I am at your disposal, overcaptain."

“The stables are on the southeast wall... the ones left. We didn’t try to rebuild the others,

collapsed like they were.” Jerat turned and began to waik toward the remaining stables.

Anna looked over the armsmen as she rode past. They looked like any others she had seen. “He

found more than a score of men to train here in the middle of nowhere.. ‘ she murmured to Jecks.

“So it would seem... though some might be Ebran deserters or from our forces."

“Still..." Anna mused, “in little more than a season….”

“If others did as well, you would have a greater force,” agreed Jecks.

“Maybe we need to do recruiting in the outlying lands,” suggested Anna. Yet another task and

job... even if you survive the battles, you’ll be buried by the bureaucracy you’ll have to create to

run this place.

She tried not to groan as she reined up outside the stable, keeping a smile firmly in place.

40

ESARIA, NESEREA

 
The dark-haired Rabyn slips from the audience chair without looking at the Mansuuran

overcaptain and makes his way into the smaller chamber behind the receiving hall, where he

steps to a serving table. There he lifts a pitcher and pours a goblet of wine, looking up as Nubara

walks slowly into the chamber.

“Audiences are done for the day,” the youth says. “For that, I am pleased. A charade, but a

necessary one, you know?”

“I understand,"…offers Nubara. “Charades are useful to rulers.

Most useful, if one would gain the support of the people.”

“Ah, yes, the people, the dear people.” Rabyn takes a second goblet from the back of the table,

set slightly apart from two others, and fills it, then extends the goblet. “You look thirsty, Nubara,

even if I did all the speaking.”

"that is your role as Prophet” Nubara takes the goblet.

Rabyn smiles across the small chamber and lifts his glass, drinking. After a moment, he replies.

“The Prophet of Music has many roles.”

“All rulers do.” Nubara takes a sip from the wine goblet, then frowns, looking at the dark liquid.

“One of those roles is to make sure they continue to rule,” Rabyn says easily, setting his goblet

on the back of the table.

Nubara’s hands begin to shake, and he barely manages to set the goblet on the serving table.

“You see... Nubara... you should pay attention to me.” Rabyn’s smile is hard, almost

dispassionate.

The officer pales, trying to speak before his knees buckle, and he slowly collapses into a heap on

the polished white tiles of the floor. Rabyn watches, seemingly waiting, until the lancer

overcaptain convulses. Then the youth kneels and rolls Nubara onto his back. Rabyn takes a

small vial from his wallet and lets several drops ooze into the Mansuuran officer’s mouth.

The convulsions slow, and Rabyn stands, stepping back and watching, his dark eyes cold and

intent.

After several convulsive movements, Nubar slowly sits up. Then he stands, if shakily.

“What...you serpant... what have you done?”

“Careful, Nubara.” Rabyn steps back, holding up the vial. "This will only last a week ...and none

but I know the way to formulate more.”

“If you would explain... Prophet...” Sweat begins to pour from Nubara’s forehead, and he

shudders.

“I did not trust you, Nubara...so I took steps to introduce... certain ingredients into your diet...

they have damaged your body. You will die within a day without the antidote. The damage is

forever, the antidote is temporary.”

Rabyn’s smile is hard. “You will need several drops every few days.”

“You are truly your mother’s son,” Nubara’s voice is rasping. “Truly..."

“I am indeed, and do not ever forget that. You will not forget, not if you wish to live. Nor will