Darksong Rising (89 page)

“Captain Yerril has one condition, Lady Anna,” Hanfor said with a laugh. “You will not find it

onerous.”

“What condition?”

“He wishes you to commit to a scroll your support of Neserea against the Liedfuhr if they accept

me as their.. . Lord High Counselor.”

“How did you get him to agree?” Anna asked.

Hanfor shrugged. “I told him the truth. That you had restored Lady Siobion in Dumar and Lord

Hadrenn in Ebra That you would oppose either Sturinn or Mansuur, and that you had given the

Mansuuran lancers the choice of leaving Neserea independent of Mansuur or dying, and that they

would not release their hold on Neserea so that you destroyed them.” The weathered veteran

laughed. “He was far more accepting when he learned that there were no other armsmen left in

Neserea, save his command.”

Anna frowned. “These are the Prophet’s Guard. What ever happened to their commander? He

was in Falcor.”

“That was Gellinot. Young Behiem had him removed because he retreated from Defalk. He was

executed, later, very quietly.”

The sorceress shook her head. She hadn’t cared much for Gellinot, from what she recalled, but to

kill a man for retreating when there were no options and nothing to gain...

“And Rabyn, he put his cousin Bertl in charge... but somehow in the siege here, one of Jearle’s

arrows went through his throat.” A grim smile crossed Hanfor’s face. “From behind him.”

“Congratulations, Lord High Counselor,” Anna said.

“I did not ask for this, you know.” A wintry smile crossed Hanfor’s face.

“I know.” Anna’s smile was half-sad. “I didn’t really ask to come to Liedwahr, either.”

“Came you did, Lady Sorceress, and this poor world will not be the same. Better, I think, but not

the same." An ironic laugh followed. “The ruler of Neserea... or counselor... a common

armsman. Who would have thought it?”

“An armsman,” Anna countered, “but scarcely common.”

“I was in great disfavor, you know," Hanfor continued. “I was being punished when Lord

Behlem assigned me to work with you against the Evult. He hoped Alvar, Himar, and I would be

killed."

“Hanfor?” Anna eased her mount closer to the grizzled veteran.

“Yes, Regent?”

“You don’t have a consort, do you?” she asked in a lower voice.

“No.” A look of puzzlement crossed the veteran’s face."

Anna grinned. “Two will get you three that you’ll have offers waiting you, and one will be from

the Liedfuhr.”

Hanfor returned her grin with a wry smile. “That wager I would not take. Not against your

scrying.”

“You will have to take one,” Anna pointed out. “So take the one that will make you happiest.”

Hanfor nodded. “And you...Lady. . . what of you?”

“Sorceresses don’t get consorts. Not in Liedwahr. Not if they want to put everything back

together.”

“Do not..." Hanfor broke off, then resumed in a voice not much above a whisper. “I would not be

presumptuous, lady... but there is one who loves you.

“I know,” Anna said softly. “I know. I did not say that I couldn’t seek happiness. Thank you.”

Anna and Hanfor both smiled, ignoring the half-bemused expressions on the faces of the two

young men.

98

Seated on Farinelli with the late-morning sun warming her back, Anna watched as the last of the

Neserean lancers rode westward, back toward Elioch—and eventually toward Esaria. She’d miss

Hanfor, his quiet competence, but Neserea needed him. And so did Defalk—in Esaria. She

wished she’d had more time to say good-bye, but that wouldn’t have altered things, and the

sooner the Nesereans were Out of Defalk, the sooner she could deal with her other problems,

hopefully before they became insurmountable.

She turned in the saddle, looking at Himar, who had watched with her. “You don’t mind being

the arms commander of Defalk, do you, Himar?”

The sandy-haired and clean-shaven veteran laughed. “No armsman with aught between his ears

would believe what you have bestowed. In two years, you have made a junior overcaptain a

ruler, and two lowly captains arms commanders of entire lands."

“That’s because you were all good.” The ones who weren’t are gone or dead.

“A ruler who rewards skill, lady... we armsmen know how rare that is.”

Anna hoped she rewarded skill, but she knew she wasn’t the best judge of her own judgment.

“We’re running out of armsmen again, and we’re running out of officers," mused the sorceress.

“Do you think Jirsit is ready to comeback from Pamr as a captain?” She brushed back strands of

blonde hair that the light gusty winds had tugged from under her brown felt hat.

“He would do well, I think.”

Anna glanced at Rickel, speculatively. On the other side of Himar, the nearest guard was Bersan.

Blaz, Lejun. and Fielmir were reined up a good ten yards away, behind Jimbob and Kinor.

“If you please, lady,” replied the blond guard, shifting uneasily in his saddle. “I would rather

remain as I am." Rickel paused, then lowered his voice. “Lejun and Blaz—they would make

good subofficers, I think.”

"Are you sure you wish to remain as a guard?” asked Anna, her eyes straying toward the keep on

the lower hill, watching for a messenger.

“I am guard captain, in all but name..." ventured Rickel.

Anna grinned. “That we can fix, Guard Captain Rickel.”

Jimbob, Himar, and Kinor, seated on their mounts, half-facing Anna, all grinned as well.

“What do you think about Lejun and Blaz?” Anna asked Himar.

“They have seen you through many battles, and none has lost his head,” Himar said. “We should

see—if they are interested,”

Anna and Himar watched as a lancer in purple rode forth from the now-open gates of Westfort—

the messenger she had sent earlier to inform Jearle that the siege had been broken, though she

had her doubts about how tight a siege it had really been. “I wonder what response we’ll get.”

“He will welcome you, Regent, no doubt. Whether he does feel welcoming or not,” suggested

Himar. “I would not be so charitable toward him.”

“It’s his trying to show he’s being charitable toward me when he’s not feeling that way that

bothers me,” Anna admitted. Her eyes crossed the hilltop to where Falar and Nelmor sat astride

their mounts, looking toward her. She did not acknowledge their glances, but she would have to

talk with them, shortly. There’s always somebody... and if you don't they get their feelings hurt,

and that leads to more trouble.

The nine of them—Himar, Anna, Jimbob, Kinor, and five guards—waited silently for the lancer

to reach them and rein up.

“Lord Jearle bids you welcome, and to enter Westfort, bastion and keep of the Western Marches

of Defalk.”

Even though the words were Jearle’s, and repeated faithfully by the lancer, Anna bristled at the

message conveyed. "Thank you,” Anna said.

“If you would wait over there." Himar suggested politely to the messenger.

“Yes, ser.” The lancer eased his mount away, not reining up until he was a good thirty yards

from the group.

“Is it wise to enter his keep, Lady Anna?” Kinor asked from her left.

“I can’t very well incinerate one of our own lords because I don’t like him. I can’t just march

away either. And we need supplies. We have enough problems as it is.” And more than enough

lords who are problems. Anna smiled crookedly. "But I will insist on all my guards, and I’ll

carry the lutar.”

“Perhaps I should enter first,” suggested Himar.

“What about an undercaptain you trust?” Anna suggested. “A very cautious one who will inform

Lord Jearle that we have, say, tenscore lancers who will need food and quarters, and Lord

Nelmor and the brother of Lord Ustal.”

Hiniar nodded.

“Might I go also?” asked Kinor.

Anna frowned, thinking about what Liende might say.

“Kinor has the graces, Lady Anna,” Himar pointed out. “While Lord Jimbob does also, it would

be less than wise to send the heir until we know how matters stand."

Anna considered the options. Finally, she looked at the tall redhead, more wiry than when they

had begun nearly a season before, and less boyish. “Be careful, Kinor. Tell him that I didn’t wish

him to be surprised, which is why you’re there with the advance party. If you notice anything

strange, ignore it, and tell Lord Jearle you have to come get me. Then get out of there.”

A half smile cloaked Kinor’s face. “I understand, Regent and lady."

“If you will excuse me, lady?” Himar eased his mount across the hilltop toward the nearest

formation of Defalkan lancers.

Anna turned to Jimbob, reflecting upon how quiet the youth had been for most of the campaign.

“You may come with us, Jimbob, but I’d rather not announce to Lord Jearle who you are. Not in

advance, anyway.”

“That I understand, Lady Anna.” The younger redhead offered a surprisingly shy smile. “I thank

you for letting me accompany you. I have seen what I had been told. I did not see before, but I

think I might see more now.”

Why? Because you’ve finally seen how real the killing and the deaths are? The pain that goes

behind ruling? Lord... I do hope so... and that it sticks. “Sometimes, you have to see things,” she

temporized.