Darksong Rising (61 page)

finally warmed up. She looked toward Liende.

“We stand ready,” replied the chief player.

The sorceress nodded, then began to sing as the melody and simple harmony rose from the

gathered players.

Replace all stones and set them new and strong

so this hold will stand both firm and long.

Replace what once was timber with steel to last,

leaving but doors and shutters.

Silvered mist seeped up from the ground or coalesced from somewhere, shrouding the ruined

hall even before Anna had completed the second line of the spell. In the back of her mind, she

could tell the players were tired, because the accompaniment was hanging on the edge as she

finished the spell.

Then, after a rumbling and a shuddering of the ground, the faintest chord of harmony shimmered

and echoed from somewhere, vanishing as the mist dissipated and left a pristine-appearing hall

that replaced the burned-out walls and fallen roof. Anna blinked, then smiled, hoping that her

visualization of the hall and the idea of girders or I-beams or whatever they were would suffice

over the years ahead, but she couldn’t afford anything that verged on Darksong, not the way she

felt.

Kinor nodded in approval, but Jimbob’s face was pale, and the heir swallowed as he looked from

Anna to his grandsire’s impassive features.

Liende lowered the clarinetlike woodwind and stepped toward the Regent.

“How do you feel?” asked the sorceress.

“We could do another, Regent.” A faint smile cracked the chief player’s lips. “We will do it

better.”

“Then we should turn and face the ruins of the stable,” Anna suggested.

The second spell was smoother, and resulted in an immaculate stable and a barracks standing

where the former structures had been.

Despite the cool wind, Anna found herself blotting her forehead, and gratefully accepting the

water bottle that Jocks extended. After drinking almost half of it, she returned it. “Thank you.”

‘That was better,” Liende informed the players. “Much better. Now... prepare to ride. We leave

shortly.” She stepped toward Anna.

“It was better, but Lady Herene will have to rebuild the rest of the holding herself.”

“Most lords would not begin with so impressive a hold,” Jecks observed with a laugh. “She will

have no cause to complain.”

“I hope not.” And you hope she doesn’t blame you for her sister’s death. “Thank you, Liende.”

She raised her voice. “Thank you all.”

As the players slipped away to pack up instruments, Anna turned back to Jecks. “You made sure

the messengers took those scrolls to Lady Herene and to Dythya and Menares? Ytrude will need

to get to Suhl before Herene can leave.”

“Both riders left before you began the first spell. I sent an escort with each.”

‘Thank you. I should have thought of that.” But there was always something she should have

thought about. Anna looked to the gray clouds that rumbled out of the north. “We need to get

back to Falcor... and then to Denguic... or Dubaria.”

“Perhaps we shall be able to go to Fussen,” Jecks said.

Anna raised her eyebrows.

“You did suggest to Arms Commander Himar that it would not hurt to involve Lord Ustal.”

Jecks smiled ironically. “Your glass showed Hanfor riding south.”

Anna laughed. “Maybe he can. If anyone could...”

They began to walk down the steps, still ash-dusted, from the new and silent hold, which Anna

had no desire to inspect, toward their waiting mounts.

Once she had mounted Farinelli, she eased the gelding aside to where Skent and Jirsit stood.

“Undercaptain Skent, as Overcaptain Himar has told you, you and Undercaptain Jirsit will hold

these lands until the Lady Herene arrives, and then you will serve her bidding until she has

determined her own staff and holdings."

“Yes, Regent.” Skent nodded, a calm expression that reassured Anna.

Anna smiled and looked at Jirsit. "Himar thinks highly of you, and I appreciate your willingness

to advise and assist Skent.” Her eyes went back to the younger undercaptain. She lowered her

voice, pitched only so the two could hear. “Skent, I charge you with learning everything you

possibly can from Undercaptain Jirsit, from improving your skill at arms to every detail about

training and leading lancers and armsmen.”

To his credit, Skent did not pale or flush. “I know I still have much to learn, and I will do my

best.”

“Good.” Anna paused. “You may be here some time.” She paused. “You have the golds

necessary for supplies?”

“Yes, lady.” Both undercaptains nodded.

“Thank you both.” Anna looked at Skent. “Learn everything you can from Jirsit, Skent.

Everything.”

“Yes, Lady Anna.” Skent met Anna’s eyes, then added, “If you would explain... in Falcor.”

“I will, and try not to worry.” Anna smiled, knowing exactly what worried Skent, or rather who

worried him. Still... he’s come a long way from the worried page whose father had just been

killed. She turned Farinelli back toward Himar and Jecks.

“Scouts, forward!”

With Himar’s first command, Anna and the fivescore or fewer of her party began the ride back to

Falcor and whatever awaited her there.

66

ENCORA, RANUAK

The Matriarch looks from the vanishing silver image in the black-tiled pool to the four players on

the far side and nods. Each of the four bows, then turns and slips out of the scrying room.

The waters of the pool remain serene as the Matriarch turns her head and addresses the younger

woman. “You see, daughter? No unnecessary sentimentality, and no overreaction. Some rulers,

as did the Evult, would have leveled all of that town. The Regent punished the guilty and the

rebellious, then rebuilt the hold with sorcery, set a guard, and now continues westward to deal

with Rabyn.”

“There was not much left for overreaction,” points out the silver-haired Ulgar, who stands at the

Matriarch’s other shoulder. "That spell of hers killed every man enchanted with Darksong, and

that was almost every able-bodied man in Pamr.”

“Does she have a heart, Mother?” asks Alya. “Or was Veria correct that she is a cold seeker after

power?”

“She risks death every time she attempts to send a missive across the depths to the mist worlds,

and all of Erde can feel the strain on the harmonies. Yet she continues those efforts. I believe

they must be to her children."

“You don’t know?”

“How would I? Except as a mother?” The Matriarch shrugs. “She has taken in those she did not

have to take in. She allowed the Lady of Stromwer to live, and her first act upon taking that hold

was to restore her child. She has returned Dumar to the old line, and after defeating Bertmynn,

she has returned to her own land. She has tried to use Darksong to avoid killing, and she has

tried, far from successfully, to use spells that would kill fewer souls. She does not act like a Bert-

mynn or an Evult. The lords of the Thirty-three fear her already, but now they will respect her,

for she has shown that she will not tolerate disrespect from either those above or below the salt—

or the table itself.” The Matriarch laughs, sardonically. “And she has just begun to know the pain

of justice in ruling.”

Alya presses her lips together. “She fought but two battles and did not even march into Elahwa.”

“She destroyed the war-dog who would not let any woman lift her head. She has supported the

only lord that all of Ebra will accept in these days. And your sister lives. That we know, and she

will recover from the wounds she has suffered. The sorceress has prevented Bertmynn from

further abusing the city. I would gather that the sorceress has also prevailed upon young Hadrenn

to treat Elahwa gently, In that, we shall see, but whatever the outcome, it is far better than what

would have happened without her intervention."

“We shall see,” avers Alya.

“Do not be so doubtful, daughter,” chides Ulgar. “Has not your mother been proved wise in each

event?”

Alya nods, if slowly.

“I am not infallible, Ulgar,” replies the Matriarch. “Far from it. Only the harmonies are infallible.

That they have reminded me, and that they will remind all who employ their powers, even the

sorceress.”

“Even the sorceress,” Ulgar murmurs.

67

Anna wiped the dampness off her forehead, moisture from the cool mist that was not quite heavy

enough to be even a drizzle, then shifted her weight in the saddle. Even the Chean River, to the

right of the road that followed the river bluffs, looked gray in the early-morning light that filtered

through the low and formless clouds.

After turning in the saddle, as if to check how closely Jimbob and Kinor followed, Jecks

observed, “You are distressed, my lady.”

“I’m not distressed. I’m worried. Right now, it’s not raining enough to get the roads really

muddy. But it could. What if it starts to rain before we can head out to help Hanfor?”

“Hanfor will carry out his orders,” Jecks replied, easing his mount closer to Anna’s. “He will not

risk his lancers. You have ordered him to harry and delay Rabyn, and that he will do.” Jecks

offered both a smile and a shrug. “If it should rain, then Rabyn will have even more difficulty

than Hanfor, and you will have more time to reach them.”

“I hope so” The Regent glanced up at the featureless gray clouds hanging over the road that

stretched westward along the river toward Falcor, still more than a day’s ride away. If it doesn’t