Darksong Rising (92 page)

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Authors: Jr. L. E. Modesitt

Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Adventure, #Music

BOOK: Darksong Rising
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not understand that the Matriarch only acts when the harmonies require, not when my whims or

wants would wish it so.” After a pause, she adds, “Perhaps someday you will understand what

wisdom is necessary to determine when to act, and what great will and courage it requires not to

act, when all around you are urging such.”

 

Dyleroy looks into the Matriarch’s cold eyes. Although the new Mistress of the Exchange

continues to meet the gaze of the older woman, Dyleroy shivers, even in the sunlight of the for-

mal receiving hall.

 

100

 

Anna’s eyes dropped to the flat table and the pile of parchment Kinor had asked his new staff to

round up for her. So many messages to write, and she couldn’t really afford to stay in Denguic

long—just long enough to give her lancers and players a little rest, to resupply, and to ensure

Kinor had a firm enough hold on the keep—and that meant leaving Dutral and the purple

company for a time, at least.

 

She could have used—again—a secretary, but, besides her fosterlings, whom she already used at

times that way, who else was there? Fluency in written language wasn’t exactly common outside

the aristocracy, and she’d already coopted most of those flexible enough for such a position.

 

She laughed to herself, then wrinkled her nose. Despite the sorcery she had used, the large guest

chamber of Westfort still smelled faintly of mold, but she’d killed and removed all the vermin in

the oversize bed with the dark walnut headboard that was carved with yet another hunting scene

that she disliked even looking at, with its dying stags and boars.

 

She’d already penned a scroll to Jecks, outlining the events of the weeks since she’d left Falcor

and asking him for a report from Dythya on the progress of liedgeld payments from various

lords.

 

 
The next step was a missive to Konsstin, the Liedfuhr of Mansuur. She couldn’t imagine the

Liedfuhr being pleased, not with the loss of a hundredscore lancers and assorted captains and

overcaptains. And he certainly wouldn’t be pleased with the death of his grandson, even if Rabyn

had been a perverted little bastard.

 

With a deep breath she reseated herself at the table, taking a chunk of bread from the platter on

the edge of the wide table, following that with a swallow of water. You’ve got to get your weight

back up. Then she sharpened the quill and began the draft of the letter to Konsstin, knowing it

would likely take her several attempts and more time than she wanted to spend on it.

 

Most Puissant Ruler of all Liedwahr, Liedfuhr of Mansuur...

 

Anna wondered what other flowery titles she could attach to the scroll, then added, “Ruler of the

West.” She left a blank area and began on the body of the missive.

 

you had stated in your last message that your lancers were not meant to invade Defalk.

Unhappily, they were persuaded to do so, either by their commander or by the former Prophet. I

initially spared these lancers out of consideration for you and for the people of Mansuur... and in

response to your earlier communications and gestures...

 

Anna swallowed hard. At least she didn’t have to say the words. Writing them was bad enough.

 

 
...but their commander insisted on being less than reasonable. Overcaptain Relour not only

refused to recognize the Prophet’s successor, but also refused to return to Mansuur. Again, I

tried to spare your forces, and called down sorcery just upon Overcaptain Relour. His succes-

sors immediately attacked my forces—in my land...

 

Anna underlined the words with two bold lines.

 

 
...and left me no alternatives but to destroy them and their lancers. I wish it had not been so, but

Defalk is not rich in skilled lancers and armsmen, and I could not afford to be generous with a

commander who had not listened to reason or to the orders of his own

Liedfuhr...

 

The sorceress paused. Now what?

 

Because the Prophet Rabyn left no heirs, I have taken the liberty of suggesting that the ruler of

Neserea be the most senior officer left to that poor land—one Overcaptain Hanfor. I also

suggested that he adopt the title of Lord High Counselor, since the title of Prophet of Music

would not be appropriate under the current conditions....

 

I believe Neserea should continue to be ruled by Nesereans, and I have offered my support to

Lord High Counselor Hanfor in the most unlikely event that he should face an invader. I would

hope that you would see fit to also extend an equally generous offer to Lord High Counselor

Hanfor, so that he and his people will understand that both Defalk and Mansuur are friends and

trusted neighbors.

 

Anna smiled, and then began to think of what sorts of flowery conclusions she might be able to

pen, not that they would soften the impact all that much, but what else could she do? Konsstin

had to understand that she wasn’t about to allow Mansuuran lancers to run loose east of the

Westfels.

 

She finally scrawled out a florid conclusion, wincing as she did.

 

She replaced the quill in the holder, then stood and walked to the narrow window, framed by old

and dark gray stone blocks, roughly dressed. She looked out into the cool but sunny midmorning.

After too brief a glance, she returned to the table, and the endless pile of scrolls.

 

She had finished nearly a dozen and thought it was close to midday when there was a knock on

the chamber door.

 

“Arms Commander Himar,” announced Bersan.

 

“Have him come in.” Anna stood and glanced across the piles of scrolls set on the table that had

belonged to the late Lord Jearle, then at Himar.

 

Himar bowed, and his eyes went to the scrolls. “You have been busy, Regent.”

 

“There was a lot I set aside to take care of Rabyn.” She shook her head. “It didn’t go away. I

need these sent."

 

“As you wish.” Himar nodded and took out his ubiquitous grease marker and a folded oblong of

the crude brown paper.

 

Is that the standard issue Defalkan officer’s writing tool? “This pile goes to Lord Jecks in

Falcor.”

 

Himar scribbled out something.

 

“This goes to Lady Herene in Pamr, and this to Ytrude in Suhl.” Anna paused. “This is the one

that we have to get to the Liedfuhr. What would be the quickest way?”

 

“With Hanfor, I would guess, Regent, and then by ship from Esaria.”

 

“We’ll send a messenger to catch up with him.”

 

“We can do that.” Himar offered another nod.

 

"Oh... and this one goes to Lord Ustal.” She paused once more. “Could you let Falar know that

I’ll need to talk to him tomorrow. He hasn’t left yet, has he?"

 

“No, Regent." Himar smiled. “He had hoped you would see him."

 

“He’s a scoundrel, but trustworthy as scoundrels go.”

 

“I know him little, except by watching, but I would say his word is good.”

 

After Anna had bundled Himar off with the piles of scrolls, she stopped to munch on bread,

actual dark bread. Where did Jearle get molasses if he was under siege for almost a season? She

frowned, then cut another wedge of cheese from the platter on the side of the wide table,

following that with water from the bottle beside it.

 

As she ate, Anna looked at her “problem” list:

 

Flossbend(Beltyr)

Arien(Tybel)

Silberfels(Hulber)

Fussen(Ustal)

Wendell(Genrica)

Issl(Fustar)

Mossbach(???)

 

She was forgetting someone. Klestayr—the lord of Aroch. But she didn’t know what he was

plotting, only that he was.

 

Eight holds, out of Thirty-three. Some were problems she didn’t have to address immediately,

like Ustal and Hulber. Some she couldn’t until she knew more, like Klestayr. And the possible

power grab by Fustar probably wouldn’t happen until Genrica died, which might be a while. So

that left deciding what to do about the succession in Mossbach, and righting the problems in

Flossbend and Arien.

 

"Arien and Flossbend, first..." she murmured.

 

There was another knock on the door. Anna turned over the sheet with her list. “Yes?”

 

“The chief player.”

 

“I’ll see her.” Anna rose and waited.

 

Liende stepped into the guest chamber and bowed, deeply. “Lady Regent.”

 

Not knowing exactly what to say, Anna smiled.

 

Liende looked at Anna, then down, then back at the regent. “I cannot thank you... not enough.”

 

“What? For giving your son more headaches than he’ll ever be able to get rid of? For ensuring

that I have a loyal lord on the border so that I don’t have to worry every time I leave Falcor? For

putting him so far away that you’ll seldom see him?”

 

Liende laughed, softly. “All those would happen were he lord or blade or player. Did you know...

once I had hoped he might receive some small plot or a cot from Lord Brill. But it would have

been a gift. My gift. This..." Liende gestured around her. ‘This he has earned and will earn with

every day he lives, and that I could never have provided.”

 

“But you did,” Anna pointed out. “You raised him well and taught him. What you helped him

become is why he is Lord of Denguic.”

 

Liende smiled and shook her head. “He was not certain when he came to Falcor. He watched

you.” The smile turned sad. “At first, he saw a beautiful girl, and I think wanted you for little less

than your form, and did not understand. Alseta— she saw you from the first, and she was not

kind to him. But Kinor is not without wit, and he watched and learned. And you were kind to let

him accompany you.” The chief player shrugged. “He will do aught that is necessary to keep this

hold and your faith.”

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