Darksong Rising (86 page)

Because she wasn’t as clear as she’d have liked, she tried another vocalise. “He. . . sees.. .

theee..." She nodded—a little better.

Hanfor rode toward her, reining up. “‘They will be here in less than a quarter of a glass. What do

you need?”

Anna offered a crooked smile. “Just keep them off me until we can finish the spells. That’s all."

Hanfor nodded. “I wish this were otherwise, Regent.”

“You and me both.”

Rickel and Lejun stepped forward—on foot—bearing the oversize shields. Each stationed

himself on one side of Anna, slightly forward of her. They let the shields rest on the dusty

ground, but their eyes remained on the dust cloud rising behind the crest of the nearer hill, less

than a dek away.

“Have them finish tuning!” Anna called to Liende.

“Stand ready to play!” ordered the chief player.

Anna swallowed, trying to keep her body and cords relaxed as the Mansuuran forces poured over

the hilltop, along the road, and hundreds of yards north and south of the road proper— their

speed increasing from a quick trot to almost a gallop, looking like a wave of maroon surging

toward the thin Defalkan line that held a slightly higher crest on the road.

“Liende! Have them start—the long flame song!”

“The flame song,” Liende ordered, loudly, but with a quaver in her voice.

Anna pushed back the doubts. With more than two thousand lancers charging her force of

perhaps three hundred, she had no choice but to use a spell that left no survivors.

Turn to fire, turn to flame

all those who do oppose Defalk’s claim,

 
turn to ashes, turn to dust...

Even before the music died away, the ground rumbled and shivered, and three forked spears of

lightning flashed from the clear sky. A pillar of flame flared momentarily on the adjacent hilltop,

and the sky began to darken, clouds forming from somewhere near instantly.

The sun dimmed.

Tears poured from Anna’s eyes, and she bent forward, hanging on to Farinelli and practically

hugging the gelding, trying not to let the massive sobs shake her.

Why… why? Was Liedwahr so alien? So alien that an over-captain of lancers who weren’t even

from Neserea felt he had to sacrifice everything because he refused to admit. . . what? That a

sorceress had as much right to declare terms as a liedfuhr? That the lives of his armsmen were

worth more than his honor? Careful there... you’re saying that your terms are worth more than

their lives.

Thunder—the natural kind—rolled across the sky, then echoed back under clouds that had

become almost black.

Anna shook her head. There was honor, and there was honor, but she’d never see that there was

much honor in insisting that you had the right to subject another country to a set of rules that it

didn’t want. Except that’s exactly what you’re doing in Defalk.

But it wasn’t. You’re upsetting the ideas of those who rule, not those who live there. Those who

live there don’t want their daughters to have to submit to any noble who wishes it. They don’t

want taxes and tariffs levied willy-nilly. They don’t want to have to scrape and bow because

they’ll get killed if they don’t....

It’s still a fine line... and you know it.

But the sobs still came.

And so did the odor of death and fire, and charred brush and bodies.

Then came the wind—cold and empty, metallic, bearing the memory of another kind of death—

moaning across the road and the hills.

With the wind came the rain, rain that was more like liquid ice, colder than anything Anna had

felt in Liedwahr, hard drops to pelt both body and soul, cold as a damned soul in Dante’s

inferno’s lowest level.

Slowly, the Regent-sorceress walked toward Farinelli, sensing, rather than really seeing the

gelding, feeling that through the cool downpour, Kinor and Jimbob, and all her players and

lancers watched... and waited.. . waited for the sorceress of destruction to leave the field.

Even tall Nelmor sat motionless on his mount. Appalled... no doubt.

Chill, ice—and guilt—poured over her.

95

 
The mixture of ice and cold rain rattled and pattered against the tent. Anna sat on the stool,

slowly sipping water and chewing on cold bread and colder cheese. Her head still throbbed. Her

eyes were blotchy, and her voice was shot.

Liende stood just inside the tent, looking at the bedraggled Regent.

Idiots! They invade another country, and then they think that they’ve been insulted after their

allies have been destroyed when they’re asked to do something reasonable—like let somebody

with experience who’s a Neserean run the place. Was she being unreasonable? Anna shook her

head. Was it just because you’re a woman who had the temerity to suggest something different?

All those men killed… every time you try to avoid killing, somehow you end up having to kill

more people. Is any form of compromise or common sense considered weakness unless you

scorch the earth first?

Another line crept into her thoughts: “unlettered lads as mad as the mist and snow.” But the

lords and officers of Liedwahr weren’t lads, even though they behaved like spoiled brats. Then,

maybe there was more of an Irish heritage in Liedwabr than she knew. Or had the Celts stayed

Germanic in Liedwahr?

And how soon before some of them understood what her sorcery could do? She shook her head.

People don’t like to believe what they haven’t seen or felt, and you haven’t left a lot of sur-

vivor… and communications here aren’t the most rapid or reliable.

“Chief Player? Regent?” Hanfor peered into the tent, water oozing down his face and into his

beard.

“Come in, Hanfor. You can take a moment and get dry.”

The arms commander stepped out of the rain and shook himself slightly, then wiped the water

off his forehead to keep it out of his eyes.

“We need to send a messenger to the Neserean forces at Denguic,” Anna said. “Or get there

quickly.”

Hanfor raised his eyebrows.

“There’s a good chance those lancers and armsmen are the ones I spelled, and that means they

have to listen to me. But I don’t want to chase them all the way across Neserea.”

Liende and Hanfor looked at Anna.

“You are but skin and bones, Lady Anna,” Liende finally said. “Better you eat and rest, and ride

more slowly.”

“If we can ride at all tomorrow,” said Hanfor.

“We can leave now. This rain isn’t good for the lancers. I’ve got a tent. They don’t,” Anna

pointed out. “Besides, if we wait. the roads will just get worse”

Liende walked to the mirror case on the camp table and eased out the scrying glass. She walked

back to Anna and held up the mirror. "If you would but look...?”

Anna looked. She tried not to wince. Her face was drawn, with her cheeks almost sunken below

the cheekbones. Deep black circles ran under both eyes. Her eyes were bloodshot. Even the

slightly bubbled silver behind the glass could not disguise the combined pallor and flush that

suffused her face. Her collarbones even jutted out under the shirt and vest. How had she gotten

so thin? Was she that obsessive? Yes...

Liende lowered the glass.

“I’ll eat more. Now,” Anna added. “And we’ll ride slowly.” She looked at Hanfor. “I can’t let

them freeze. Not Nelmor’s or Falar’s men, either.

Liende and Hanfor looked at each other.

“Nor the players,” Anna insisted.

“That might be best for them,” Hanfor agreed. “It is not good for you.”

“We can always stop if I fall apart.” But I won’t. “And I’ll eat more." You have to....

96

Shifting her weight—and her soaked trousers—in the saddle, Anna looked through the cold mist

that had replaced the icy rain. In addition to being tired and underweight, she was going to have

legs and a rear that were going to be badly chafed. The once-muddy road had turned back into

damp clay—slightly slippery, but not a sloppy mess. The rain had turned first to drizzle, and then

to mist, as the Defalkan force had struggled westward. Now the mist had gotten finer, but the

process had occurred slowly over almost ten deks of muddy and slippery roads.

The lower legs of the mounts were mud-splattered as well, and Anna knew that grooming

Farinelli would be a long chore. The sorceress peered more intently at the indistinct light that had

to be the sun trying to break through the clouds. Then she smiled. “See... there’s a rainbow!

We’re almost out of it.”

Riding to her right, Kinor laughed.

Beside him, Jimbob murmured, “I’m ready for the rain to end. I was ready for it deks back.”

“We might get somewhere dry before it gets dark.” Anna remembered to take another swallow of

water, and more of the cheese from the food pouch. She had to keep eating, because there was

still far too much left undone, and it would remain undone unless she did it. That was becoming

all too clear. She managed to push down another mouthful of cheese, swallowing with difticulty,

despite her memory of the mirror image Liende had shown her.

Shortly, another scout trotted through the mist from the west to report to Hanfor. Even from ten

yards away, Anna could see the arms commander’s smile.

“Hanfor looks pleased,” observed Kinor.

Anna nodded, waiting as the arms commander turned his mount and eased his way toward the