Darksong Rising (77 page)

“Lord Jearle would scarce take that well.”

Anna nodded. “He would not, and I won’t say anything to anyone until I’ve resolved matters

with Lord Jearle. If he has no strong objections, would you consider it?”

“I would be honored, but I would not accept such an honor if it brought greater strife to Defalk.”

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness and concerns, and I won’t put you in that position.” Especially

not after what my failures cost you and your sister already. “We can’t do much, anyway, until

after we fight Rabyn.”

“That is most true.” Nelmor bowed. “I appreciate that you think so highly of me and of Dubaria.”

He laughed. “Though such an honor may come more dearly than one might wish.”

“All honors do,” Anna riposted, “including being Regent of Defalk.”

Nelmor smiled. “By your leave, Regent.”

Anna nodded, waiting until she was sure that the tall lord was well away from the tent.

Now…for Falar.

Stepping out into the chill mist that had remained although it was approaching midday, she

glanced around. “Lejun... Bersan... have you seen Kinor?”

“He was here but a moment ago," answered Lejun.

“Lady Anna?” Kinor trotted up from behind the tent. “Were you seeking me? Jimbob and I were

studying the maps with Overcaptain Himar.”

“I was wondering if you could find Falar for me?”

“He was down by the south tielines, above the stream. I can see if he is still there.” With a smile,

the redhead was off.

Anna went back to trying to recraft the defective spell, but had only managed to write and cross

out the last line twice before Falar was announced by Lejun.

“You sought me, Lady Anna?” Falar peered into the tent.

“I did.” Anna stood and motioned for him to enter. “You know that we’ll be attacking the

Nesereans before long. Certainly, within a few days. Have the arrangements that Hanfor has

made worked out for you?”

“Your arms commander is very thorough, and we have benefited from his advice and from his

armorer.”

“Without Hanfor, strengthening Defalk would have been much harder.” Anna hadn’t even

known that Hanfor had found an armorer, but she didn’t smile at her arms commander’s

resourcefulness.

“I can offer but twoscore armsmen, not all proper lancers, even,” Falar said. “We will all fight.”

He paused. “Hanfor has suggested that I act as one of your captains, between him and Himar.”

“If Hanfor asked, he feels you can do the job,” Anna said.

“It is foolish.” Falar inclined his head. “Yet wisdom is foolish too.”

“At times,” Anna agreed. “Lord Hanfor has suggested that your brother has remained within his

walls even though the Mansuuran lancers ranged across his lands.” The regent waited for a

response.

“Worse than that.” Falar snapped out the words, "The pigs have seized near-on a half-score of

girls to pleasure that beast—and burned the dwellings and shops of any who opposed them. Yet

Ustal has done nothing. He has not even recompensed the tradesmen for their losses.”

Anna forced herself to ignore Falar’s priorities. At least, the young man had some sense of

outrage for the fate of the poor girls. “No one told me this. Not about the girls.” From what she’d

known of the young Prophet’s parents, she wasn’t surprised at Rabyn’s actions, but she could

feel her anger rising. But this world gets you angry all the time.

“My brother the lord remains behind his wails. He will do so until he can sally forth and triumph

without danger.”

Put that way, Ustal’s actions made sense—for Ustal. “That would seem prudent,” Anna said.

“It’s hard on the people, but it’s prudent.”

Falar glanced at Anna strangely, as though he could not believe her words.

“Is it prudent for me to plan an attack against nearly two-hundred-score armsmen with

twentyscore?” asked Anna dryly.

“If you are a sorceress, lady.” Falar bowed.

“If I am a successful sorceress,” she corrected.

A smile crossed the would-be lord’s face. “Success makes wise men of fools, and failure fools of

wise men.”

How true, and which will you be? Anna inclined her head. “Thank you again for coming, Falar. I

will find some way to reward you and your men." She paused. “I may not change the succession

of Fussen, but I do repay loyalty.”

“All have said that.” He grinned. “I cannot say I hoped for aught else.”

Anna returned the infectious smile. “You may go. you scoundrel.”

“By your leave, sorceress and Regent.”

“You have my leave.”

She shook her head after he departed. Falar was a scoundrel. but she usually read people right,

and he was an honest scoundrel, and that was a great improvement over his brother. And most of

the lord, of the Thirty-three.

Her eyes fell to the stacks of brown paper, and the spells she had yet to finish adapting. With a

long deep breath, she pulled up the stool and sat beck down at the camp table.

85

NORTH OF FUSSEN, DEFALK

The Prophet of Music sits on a gilded straight-backed chair set before the table covered in blue

linen. Nubara stands at Rabyn’s left shoulder. To the left of the cloaked Mansuuran overcaptain

and to the right of the Prophet are guards in blue, two on each side. All four guards watch as a

slender brown-haired overcaptain in the maroon of Mansuur enters the large pavilion tent.

After brushing his boots, Relour steps forward on the carpet, then stops, and bows. “You

requested my presence, Prophet Rabyn, and Hand of the Liedfuhr.” With the last words, his head

inclines to Nubara.

“We did,” Rabyn replies. “The sorceress gathers her forces. She will attack soon. She has never

been slow to act. The Dark-song drums are ready. How have you prepared?”

“We stand ready, but it is most unlikely that the Regent of Defalk will soon press an attack. Half

those lancers rode in yesterday, and their mounts are tired, sire."

“She has been in her camp several days. So have many of her lancers. She doesn’t need lancers

and mounts for sorcery,” Rabyn says, an edge to his voice.

“Nor do you, sire, but should sorcery prove wanting, or take longer, you need the lancers to hold

the lines and take the flght to the enemy. You seek the best from your wiser officers, and so does

the sorceress. She is known for that. Her officers will not wish to fight with tired mounts.”

“You may be correct, but it will go ill with you if she attacks soon, and your lancers are

unprepared.”

“The Mansuuran lancers have yet to be caught unaware, sire. The Sorceress of Defalk will not do

so.”

“Good. You may go.”

“As you wish. Good day, sire... Hand of the Liedfubr." Relour bows and retires.

When the tent flap is closed, Rabyn turns in the gilded chair. “Have you found another wench,

Nubara?”

“Not a willing one, honored Prophet.” Nubara shivers within the heavy maroon woolen cloak.

“The guards had to use your potion. She is in your tent, tied to the camp bed, as you requested.”

Rabyn’s eyes glitter. “Is she clean?”

“She has been bathed, massaged with rose oil, and anointed with perfume.”

“Is that a scratch upon your neck, Nubara? I trust you did not pleasure yourself before your ruler

enjoyed himself.”

“No, most mighty Prophet. The girl’s body is as we found her.” Nubara laughs bitterly. “Your

other potions have assured that you have no fear from me.”

“That is as it should be”

Nubara’s eyes turn hard and glitter, but Rabyn has already turned his attention to the goblet of

amber wine he has poured.

“I wonder if this one will choose to do as I wish,” muses the young Prophet. “Or if I will have to

enjoy her in other ways.” He turns his head in Nubara’s direction. “What do you think, Nubara?"

“It would not be for me to say, honored Prophet.” Nubara’s eyes do not meet Rabyn’s. “I would

suggest that you leave her gagged until you are certain of her... inclination.”

“You are so delicate, Nubara!” Rabyn laughs, cruelly. “I will take care not to let her upset your

Mansuuran lancers. Or anyone else.” He lifts the silver goblet.

 
86

The walls of the tent rippled in the cool wind, glanced up from where she sat on the camp stool,

studying the spells, again, trying to ensure that she had the words firmly in her mind. She’d still

carry the written words in her belt wallet just in case, but she thought she had them down. You’d

better. Just try to read them in the dark by candlelight.

She’d used the mirror twice, but the Neserean camp remained the same, and she certainly didn’t

want to look at Rabyn again. At the thought of what she’d seen, she could feel her heart racing,

and her anger rising. No wonder people got angry at absolute monarchs! That a youth barely

past puberty could be so sadistic with a girl!

She made a deliberate effort to unclench her jaw, then rubbed her forehead. She massaged the

back of her neck with her right hand, concentrating on relaxing her breathing. After a time, she

stood, deciding against snuffing the single candle in the short glass mantle before slipping from

the tent. She stopped immediately outside the tent, between Rickel and Fielmir. The cool breeze

was calming.

The earlier clouds had lifted into a high haze, and the twilight was already chill. Most of the