Darksong Rising (43 page)

that bitch sorceress." Another smile crosses Rabyn’s youthful face, a countenance that suddenly

appears far older, far more cruel. “Now...shall we plan the attack on Defalk?”

Nubara looks down, if momentarily, before he raises his eyes. “I believe such an attack is most

unwise, Prophet.”

“Will you assist me? Or do you wish to die?”

Nubara takes another deep breath. “I will assist you.”

“I thought you would see reason, Nubara." Rabyn smiles once again.

41

Come in.” Anna stepped back from the pine-planked door to let Jecks and Himar enter the

chamber that had once been meant for Lord Barjim. It was larger than the room she had once

occupied at the Sand Pass fort with three other women, but spare, containing little more than a

large bed, whose frame had been roughly repaired with pine splints over the light oak, a few

chairs, a wash table with bowl and pitcher, a small writing table with a single stool, a chamber

pot, and a plank with hanging pegs nailed to the brick wall.

The traveling scrying mirror rested upon the writing table, and the uncased lutar lay across the

lower corner of the bed.

“You wished to see us?” A humorous glint tinged Jecks’ hazel eyes.

“I did." Anna let Himar close the door before she asked, “We still have two companies of

bowmen, right?” We’d better...

“They can shoot arrows. Most would be useless without your spells to guide the arrows," Himar

said. “Years it takes to make an archer."

“We’ll need their arrows, though.” Anna pursed her lips. “Before we talk, we need to see what’s

happening in Ebra.” If we can. She motioned toward the mirror on the table, then turned and

reclaimed the lutar. She checked the tuning, cleared her throat, and began what she hoped would

be the last vocalise.

Her cords clear, she began the scrying spell.

Bertmynn, Bertmynn, Lord I’d see,

show his forces now to me...

As the last notes of the spell died way, the mirror silvered over, and then presented an image of

armsmen in leathers and burgundy tunics advancing across a recently harvested grain field. One

armsman staggered, flailed as an arrow went through his neck, then slowly crumpled. Those

behind and beside him continued to trot forward with bared blades.

‘They are fighting. Whether it is the beginning or the end..." Jecks shrugged.

“The beginning,” offered Himar. “Bertmynn’s armsmen still hesitate.”

Without waiting, Anna tried a second spell.

Show me now, and as must be.

any fighting near Elahwa city....

Anna tried not to wince at the rhyme, but the mirror image shifted, this time to show what

seemed to her a pitched skirmish between figures in blue and others in burgundy. To the side of

the blue figures with blades were others in blue with bows. Abruptly, a squad of lancers in

burgundy appeared, slashing at both archers and armsmen afoot. Anna could tell that most, if not

all, of those in blue were women.

As it became clear that few of the freewomen shown by the glass would survive, Anna sang a

release couplet, then slowly laid the lutar on the bed.

“It may be different elsewhere near Elahwa,” offered Jecks.

“It might be, but... is it likely?” asked Anna. “I’ll check again before we leave in the morning.”

“The morning?” Himar’s eyebrows rose.

“We should march before Bertmynn can recover. We can’t reach Elahwa before he takes over

the city, anyway," Anna said. You couldn’t reach the other side of the Sand Pass....

“You should not,” returned Himar. “Let the freewomen weaken him, and let young Hadrenn

understand the danger. Your support will be worth more to him.”

“And it will be less costly for you and for our lancers,” added Jecks.

The Regent nodded slowly. What both men said made sense. So why did she feel guilty about

not being able to attack Bertmynn before he reached Elahwa? Because women are dying, and

they have no one else? Her lips tightened, but nodded once more. “We leave in the morning.”

42

The Ostfels and the eastern end of the Sand Pass lay a good ten deks to the west and behind the

column of Defalkan lancers. On the north side of the narrow road were grasslands, similar to

those around Mencha, but more lush. A half dozen deks or so to the south of the road lay a long

beige ridge of sand—the westernmost part of the Sand Hills. The air above the dunes shifted and

shimmered, sometimes reflecting the sun or something else.

Anna could almost feel the heat radiating from the dunes, and she took another long swallow

from the water bottle as she studied the Sand Hills. According to Brill, at one point, years earlier

the sand had actually blocked the entrance to and the use of the Sand Pass, effectively isolating

Ebra from Defalk. Then the Evult had shifted the dunes and begun his plans to invade and

subdue Defalk.

Anna frowned. Without the Evult, would the sands shift again?

“What is the worst mistake a lancer can make in battle?” asked Kinor, his voice drifting forward

to Anna and Jecks.

“Trying too hard to kill people,” answered Himar.

Anna found herself listening, wondering what the overcaptain would say next.

“Aren’t you supposed to kill the enemy?” interjected Jimbob. Himar laughed. “If you must and if

you can—easily. If your blade skills are good, it is best to let others make mistakes." There was a

pause, as if the former Neserean officer had shrugged. “If you cannot; then by all means attack

vigorously so that none will know how little skill you have.”

 
"...doesn’t make sense..."

Anna thought the words were Jimbob’s, but she wasn’t sure. "Perhaps one lancer in fivescore is

strong enough and skilled enough to beat down another’s blade. In all other cases, lancers die

from their mistakes, and the biggest mistake is being too hasty in trying to kill another.”

Jecks smiled and murmured to Anna. “His words are true.”

“They make sense,” she replied. They’re true in everything... but it’s so hard to be patient when

everyone is flailing at you. She wished Skent had heard Himar’s words... or that someone had

conveyed them to the all-too-young undercaptain.

Another mistake? Another case of haste on your part? Because you need trusted and intelligent

officers so badly?

Her eyes went back to the shimmering expanse of the Sand Hills, then to the road ahead, the long

road to Synek…and the longer road to bloody Elahwa.

43

There’s someone riding toward us," observed Rickel, checking his blade and glancing toward

Blaz, who rode on Anna’s left, away from the River Syne, a narrow and placid strip of brown

water winding between intermittent low hills. The hills were covered mostly with a mixture of

brown and green grass with patches of trees that represented woodlots for the cots that appeared

at irregular intervals.

“In a hurry,” suggested Blaz, as both guards reached for the large shields they carried to protect

Anna for enough time to allow her to use her spellcasting.

Anna squinted into the low, late-afternoon sun, looking to see if she could discern any sign of

Synek, but all she saw was the rider, and a good dek farther up the road, on a hillcrest to the

west, another group of riders, two of whom appeared to be the scouts Himar had sent out ahead

of the main column. She readjusted the floppy brown hat, but the sun was too low for the hat to

help much.

“Ready arms!” ordered Himar. “Bowmen, first squad!”

Jecks drew his blade and eased up beside Anna.

Anna turned in the saddle and slipped the lutar out of its case. She glanced back at Jimbob and

Kinor, both of whom had drawn steel, and then at the small round shield in the open-topped case

at her knee, spelled against weapons directed toward her—an idea Jecks had forced upon her

when they had begun the campaign in Dumar, but one that had proved its value more than once.

Then she began to check the lutar’s tuning as Rickel and Blaz eased forward so that they could

lift the shields to protect her.

A rider in a green tunic neared, one hand on his mount’s reins, and a second empty hand held

clear of mount or the long blade he bore in a shoulder harness. “Greetings!” came the call as he

reined up. “Regent and sorceress... Lord Hadrenn sent us to escort you to his hold.” The black-

haired lancer gestured. “My squad waits with your scouts.” He paused, looking flustered, then

extended a gold ring to Rickel. “My master’s seal ring... to... so that..."

Anna took the ring from Rickel. “I will be happy to return it to Lord Hadrenn.”

As Hadrenn’s escort turned his mount, Anna slipped the ring into her wallet, but kept one hand

on the lutar as they rode uphill and westward. Below, along the river, those few trees not

uprooted or buried in piles of clay were bent over, almost touching the uneven ground on the

lower riverbanks. The leaf patterns were uneven, with some trees having but few leaves at all,

and one or two having full leaves, although touches of red and yellow were beginning to appear.

When the riders reached the hillcrest on the packed-clay road, Anna finally saw Synek on the far

bank and to the northwest. At the next dip in the road, a crude timber bridge spanned the narrow

river—the only bridge Anna could see looking either up or down the river, and clearly placed

there because of its location on the narrowest part of the Syne.

“We must cross here,” announced the guide. “Perhaps some of your force, then my squad, and

then the Regent and players, and then the remainder of your lancers..."

Anna touched the shield at her knee, but it remained still, without vibration.