Darksong Rising (79 page)

“Thank you.” Once she had the lutar and the emergency food pouch with hard cracker-like bread

and cheese, and the redhead had the mirror, Anna blew out the candle.

Hanfor and Himar had appeared by the time she and Kinor were back in the darkness outside the

tent. She glanced heavenward. Clearsong had left the sky, but the small red disc that was

Darksong was rising, just above the horizon. Anna wasn’t sure she liked that. Darksong rising?

Where the moons are—that’s just superstition.

“Lady Anna, the lancers stand ready,” offered Hanfor.

“As do your players.” Liende stood so close to the two officers that Anna had missed her slight

form initially.

The sorceress nodded, then realized that nodding wasn’t that clear in the flickering light of the

single torch. "Let’s go—as soon as I saddle Farinelli.” Once again, she was slowing things down,

and she found herself walking quickly through the darkness toward the tieline that held the

gelding. After a moment, there was a scuffle of feet and Bersan appeared beside Anna with a

torch, leading the way.

Anna set down the lutar case and patted Farinelli on the neck. “I know it’s early, but you don’t

mind it near as much as I do.”

The big gelding didn’t bother to answer, by whuffing or whickering or any other sound, just

standing there almost stolidly as Anna saddled him and adjusted the girths, then fastened the

lutar and mirror behind her saddle, and the food pouch and water bottles in their holders. She

mounted quickly, and eased Farinelli toward the torch that illuminated Hanfor

Bersan followed her, still bearing the torch in one hand. "As we planned, Regent, fivescore

lancers will go all the way with us. The rest will be on the rise about two deks back to the east

from the Prophet’s camp.”

Nelmor and Falar led their mounts toward Anna.

Politics again…at this time of night…She offered a smile, not sure either could see it, and reined

up Farinelli. “Lord Nelmor... Falar... Hanfor has told me of your offers and your courage in

facing the prophet of Darksong. I appreciate your being here, and your support for the Regency

and Defalk. I will not forget it.” And that is true.

“Lady and Regent,” began Nelmor, “I am here because you have not stinted doing what must be

done, and because you have faced the enemy as a warrior, first in the line of battle." The tall

blond lord bowed his head.

“I, too, though no lord am I."

“Thank you both."

Kinor and Jimbob had quietly ridden up, but remained several yards back, almost lost in the

darkness, especially Kinor on a dark mount.

Anna waited until Nelinor and Falar stepped back and mounted before she gestured. "kinor... you

will accompany me. Jimbob, I’d like you to accompany Himar. If anything should happen to me,

you are to order him to escort you back to Defalk..”

Surprisingly, Jimbob nodded. “I appreciate the honor of accompanying the overcaptain."

Was the heir finally beginning to understand? Anna hoped so. Jimbob inclined his head and

turned his mount, disappearing into the darkness, while Kinor flicked his reins to ease his horse

closer to Anna’s left side.

Another rider neared.

“The players are mounted and ready, Regent,” Liende reported.

“Good.” Anna coughed and cleared her throat. Even after the early warm-ups. her cords didn’t

feel totally clear.

“Not a sound once we leave camp!” ordered Hanfor. “Not a one!”

The column moved slowly, deliberately, through the darkness, with only a bare handful of

torches. The torches added little to the starlight, a starlight brighter than on earth, Anna thought,

but perhaps augmented slightly by the reddish light of the moon Darksong.

Anna tried another set of vocalises, ones that weren’t too loud. Her throat and cords were a little

better, but she still worried. Hanfor’s idea of a night attack directed at the Nesereans made more

sense to Anna than another sorcery-based pitched day battle when Rabyn would have the drums

waiting. Still, they’d have to be ready for the drums.

“Hanfor,” she called.

After a few moments, the arms commander seemed to appear on his mount to Anna’s right.

“If things don’t work as we planned, I could need archers... bowmen... at any time. We talked

about that, but..."

There was a soft chuckle. “Matters in battle never work as planned. Those lancers with bows ride

directly behind the players, and I have told them to be ready to nock and lift shafts at my

command—or at yours."

“Good. I hope we don’t need them.” But you probably will.

The sounds of mounts and hoofs seemed preternaturally loud to Anna, loud enough to tell the

entire world that lancers were riding toward the Nesereans and Mansuuran lancers. She knew

that the sounds didn’t carry that far, and the wind was neutral, light and coming out of the north,

rather than from the east behind them, so that it was unlikely to carry sound or the scent of horses

toward the Prophet’s camp.

Anna tried another soft vocalise, then coughed some.

Kinor leaned toward her, reaching across and lifting out her water bottle. She took it and

swallowed. She started to put the bottle back, then reminded herself of the need to avoid dehy-

dration, took another long swallow before replacing it. ‘Thank you.”

A rider appeared out of the darkness, making his way toward Hanfor, then sliding his horse

alongside the arms commander’s mount. "The Prophet’s camp remains silent We are about one

dek from the first rise. Birtol remains there, as you ordered.”

“Himar will be by the other torch halfway to the rear. Tell the overcaptain that, and then return

here.”

“Yes, ser’ The messenger disappeared into the darkness with the sound of hoofs on the road clay

dying away quickly.

Anna peered into the darkness as the column rode slowly westward. While the shadows shifted,

and the shapes rising out of the dark changed, she still felt as though she were riding nowhere.

After something less than a glass, another scout and his mount slipped out of the darkness and

rode toward Hanfor. “Ser... the ridge is along the left of the road.”

“Column halt." Hanfor murmured to the torchbearer, who dipped the flame twice. Hanfor

seemed to stand in his stirrups, as if studying the night—or very early morning. He turned to

Anna. “I will be back in a moment.”

As the arms commander rode eastward along the barely defined shoulder of the road, Anna could

see but faint blurs of darkness beyond the vague forms of horses and their riders. The air smelled

of fall, damp leaves, somewhat moldy, even if most were still on the trees.

Several mounts whuffed, others whuffled, and low murmurs rose in the darkness.

Anna guided Farinelli back toward Liende. “How are you and the players doing?”

“We will be ready when summoned, lady.”

‘Thank you.” Anna eased the gelding back up beside Kinor. Shortly, Hanfor reappeared. “All is

set. We go forward.” He stood in the stirrups. “Douse the torches. Now.”

In the darkness. Anna felt even more alone as she and Hanfor led the smaller group of lancers

away from the supporting troops—along the road to the east. Were there fires or lights ahead to

her left?

“We have but a half-dek before you begin," Hanfor whimpered. “His sentries are four hundred

yards to the east of the picket posts.”

“So... it’s more than a dek from here to his camp?”

“I would guess so.”

Anna turned in her saddle. “Liende, we’ll need to do the short flame song here, and then the

players will have to remount and ride about a half dek before we do the main spells. The sentries

are too far out for us to use the long spells effectively on the Prophet.”

“We stand ready."

Anna wanted to sigh. She could understand Liende’s reluctance, but without large armies and

trained armsmen and lancers, what was a regent supposed to do?

“The short flame song, as soon as you can,” she told the chief player. Then she dismounted

gingerly in the bare illumination afforded by the bright stars—and Darksong—and handed

Farinelli’s reins to Kinor.

“Players into position,” whispered Liende from behind Anna. Standing on the road, on a clay that

felt damp and a little slick, the sorceress squared her shoulders and took several deep breaths as

the players arranged themselves.

Anna cocked her head. Were those voices?

"...hear something out there?”

 
"...swear there was a torch out there.. . gone...”

 
"...who’d be out this time of night...”

“Now!” hissed Anna.

“The short flame song. On my mark. Mark!” ordered Liende.

The first bar was awful, but Anna had always insisted on hav ing three bars as a standard before

the song part of the spell began, and that foresight once again proved helpful, since, by the time

she began the spell proper, the players were together.

Silence in death, silence in fear,

the sentries who watch for us to near....

A dozen blue-white spears of flame flashed across the sky, even before Anna’s last words. She

didn’t wait to see if the effect was as she’d hoped. Either way, they needed to ride forward to

enable her to use sorcery.

“Mount up,” Anna ordered, taking Farinelli’s reins and climbing into the saddle, urging the

gelding onward.