The Spellsong War: The Second Book of the Spellsong Cycle (32 page)

“No, lady. Thank you.” Halde bowed and turned, followed by the silent Fhurgen.

Before the door closed, she could hear Fhurgen’s voice.

“Saalmeister, best you listen . . .”

Anna smiled faintly, wondering what Fhurgen might say, and whether Halde would listen. Then she went back to the arrow spell. What about spelling the arrowheads? Would a spell that dragged the once-living matter of the shafts and the fletching be Darksong? She frowned. She didn’t know why, but she thought that might work. She could test it, at least.

She had another version of the second couplet almost worked out when there was another knock on the door.

Jecks stepped into Anna’s room, followed by Hanfor.

“Hanfor?” Anna looked up from the table, but did not stand. “What are you doing here?”

The gray-haired arms commander bowed. “Lord Jecks suggested I bring those armsmen I could spare, and I thought that might be wise. We can return with greater speed and reach Falcor before any others can reach it—though I doubt any will try.”

Anna gestured to the chairs on the other side of the writing table. “I’m glad to see you, but that means trouble.”

Jecks’ eyes twinkled momentarily as he seated himself. “You see, she is almost recovered.”

“That’s the story of my life. Get wounded so I can recover and survive.” Her eyes went to Hanfor. “Which problem do you want to start with?”

“There is another difficulty,” Hanfor said slowly. “It is not so great a problem as I feared. Now that you hold Synfal and Cheor.”

She held Synfal? That was a laugh. Synfal held her. For the first few days, she’d even had trouble holding a mug or a knife to cut meat for any length of time. “Oh?” she offered cautiously.

“The armory here has many good blades,” Hanfor added. “Enough to spare for our armsmen.”

For
now, thought Anna. “Still no weapons smith and no blades?”

“No smiths have answered our scrolls.” The veteran paused, then added, “You recall the blades in Encora? All were sold before our offer was received. Or so we were told.”

Anna frowned. “I don’t like that. How many?”

“Over three hundred.”

Anyone who wanted and could afford three hundred blades was definitely serious about something. Not that many people—or even lords—had five hundred to a thousand golds to spare. Anna certainly knew that. “Did our man find out who bought the blades?”

“A trader in Encora. A Ranuan trader.”

That bothered Anna, but it was a feeling she couldn’t attribute to anything logical. “What else?”

“There are rumors that the Liedfuhr is sending more armsmen to Neserea.”

“Just rumors?” She glanced at Jecks.

He nodded.

“What else?” she asked tiredly.

“Bertmynn has attacked an outpost held by Hadrenn’s forces.”

Anna frowned, trying to remember who was who. “Hadrenn’s the one who holds the west part of Ebra?” She pursed her lips, remembering Hryding’s messenger Fridric. “The one Gestatr went to serve, that’s right.”

Hanfor inclined his head, waiting.

“So we have troops massing on our western borders, an uprising in our own south, and a civil war starting to our east.” She forced a wry grin. “Have I missed anything?” Then she added, “Besides the fact that someone in Ranuak is buying lots of blades, and our neighbor to the southwest is being supported by an enemy that wants to see every woman in Defalk in chains?”

“I think you have stated the situation clearly,” stated Jecks.

Anna’s eyes hardened, even as she forced her voice into an unnatural sweetness. “You might recall that I suggested this would happen.”

Hanfor and Jecks exchanged glances.

She shrugged, glad that there was but a twinge in her chest. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll do what we have to. Hanfor . . . can you round up several hundred men who can shoot arrows? They don’t have to be accurate, just strong enough to get the arrows released with force in the right direction all at the same time.”

“Most of our armsmen could do that now,” admitted the arms commander with a rueful laugh. “They just cannot hit anything.” He frowned. “I do not know about bows and arrows.”

“Round up as many as you can.”

Hanfor’s eyebrows rose.

“If Sargol can spell one crossbow quarrel, there’s no
reason why I can’t spell several hundred arrows in return.”
You hope
.

Hanfor swallowed.

So did Jecks.

“Gentlemen.” Anna smiled. “I’ve learned that fighting here is a nasty business, involving poisoned arrows, assassinations, sorcery, and economic coercion. Surely, you do not think I should limit my efforts out of a sense of misplaced chivalry?”

“But the armsmen . . . They are not . . .”

Anna looked at Hanfor. “I know some didn’t have much choice, but they did choose. And if we don’t end this rebellion quickly, we won’t have a land left to protect.” She turned to Jecks. “You’ve led me to believe that destroying keeps and everyone in them is unwise. Is that still true?”

The white-haired lord fingered his chin before answering.

A stronger gust of wind hurled rain past the half-open shutters and onto the yellow-brick floor.

Finally, Jecks answered. “If you were to destroy many keeps with sorcery, some of the lords of the north would feel you would turn on them. I cannot say how many.”

“Would they turn if I were a man?”

“Some would.”

“Just not so many.”
Double standard—again
.

Anna glanced back at Hanfor. “We either kill armsmen or lose support.”

“Always the armsmen pay,” murmured the arms commander.

It had been that way back on earth, too, Anna recalled. “It’s true on all worlds. That’s because people are people.”

After another silence, Hanfor asked, “Have you other duties?”

“No.” Anna softened her voice. “I am glad you came, and I do value your skill and advice. It’s just that we don’t seem to have many choices.”

“That be not your fault, lady. I will do as we must.”

Anna could hear the unspoken words—“
but I do not have to like it.”

Hanfor rose. “By your leave.”

“I’ll try to spare those I can,” Anna said.

“You do, and they may fight for you.”

Anna had thought about that, too.

After Hanfor bowed and departed, Jecks said quietly, “It will get worse, first, I fear.”

“All the lords are afraid that they’ll lose their privileges and power.”

“In this uncertain world,” answered Jecks with a short laugh, “does not every man fear loss?”

“Armsmen and peasants and women lose their lives every day. Lords worry about golds and power.” Anna sighed. “I suppose that if any of the others had power and golds, they’d fear losing them, too.”

“You have seen the hard life, have you not?”

Anna hesitated. “Yes and no. Earth is different. I’ve had to work hard, but I’ve never been poor the way people are here.”
Then, Uncle Garven and Papaw had been close to it
.

“You have seen enough. And you have seen to know that change may be good.” Jecks shook his head. “In Defalk, for many years, change has always heralded trouble. Can you blame them?”

Yes, but it won’t do any good
. “They’ll have to learn.”

“I wager you will see to that.” Jecks handed Anna a scroll, still sealed. “This should cheer you.”

The sorceress glanced at it warily.

“It’s from young Secca.”

Anna broke the seal, noting the carefully impressed
S
on the blue wax, and the thin strip of blue ribbon.

My dear Lady Anna,

I must write this quickly. Please forgive the poor letters. You must get well. All of us feel you must.

Now you are all I have. Please take care and eat
a lot. I love you. I hope we can play Vorkoffe when you come home.

Anna’s eyes blurred, and she set down the scroll on the writing table, shivering.

“I thought you would be pleased.” Jecks’ voice was puzzled.

She did shake her head, not able to see him through the tears. She’d lost her own little redhead—Elizabetta. And Irenia, and Mario. Now, she had another redhead, one she’d practically ridden off and abandoned. Was she going to lose her, too?

She shuddered, unable to stop the sobs that burst forth.

A
hot and damp breeze slipped through the open window of Anna’s quarters. A gust of wind rattled the large replacement mirror on the wall. Even though she was the Regent of Defalk, she still didn’t feel comfortable in the “throne room” used by Arkad, and probably never would. Besides, for dealing with her small traveling staff, her quarters were fine.

Anna glanced across the writing table at Jecks, then at Hanfor. “I think it’s time to name the heir to Synfal. I’ve decided. Lord Jecks had nothing to do with this.”

Hanfor raised his bushy gray eyebrows.

“No . . . I’m not giving Synfal to him. I am giving it to Lord Jimbob, under the same terms as the Regency, except Herstat and Jecks will administer Synfal, but Jimbob will have some small say to begin with.”

Surprisingly, Hanfor nodded. “That is most sensible.
A lord must have coins enough to support his realm in times of trouble, and the lands adjoin each other.”

“I’ve also made Lord Jecks agree to part with Herstat as part of the bargain, to be saalmeister here. Halde will stay on to assist him, but only for a time, until Herstat is comfortable.” Anna turned to Jecks. “What have you discovered about Halde?”

“He is honest, according to all. He works hard. He does not appear to listen, but he does.” The white-haired lord shrugged. “A courtier he is not. That is why he would have remained an assistant, I would judge.”

“The armsmen of Synfal speak of him in a like fashion,” added the Arms Commander. “They respect him. They do not like him, but they do not dislike him.”

“Well . . . let’s get this over.” Anna raised the iron bell and rang it, wincing at the off-key clang.

Fhurgen opened the door.

“If you would ask Halde to come in . . .”

The dark-bearded acting saalmeister entered the chamber, closing the door gently but firmly, and bowed. “Lady Anna, lords.”

“Halde,” Anna said, wondering how she was going to handle telling Halde he was about to be replaced.

“Yes, Lady Anna?” The black-haired young man bowed again.

“I will be naming the heir to Synfal shortly.”

“That is your right as regent.”

“The heir will have his own saalmeister.”

“That is his right.”

“Halde,” Anna repeated, adding slowly. “Everyone in Synfal believes you are hardworking, good at the work of your job, and honest. Most find you cold and difficult to talk to. I promised you a good position if you worked hard and well, and I will honor that promise.”

“All say you honor your word.” Halde bowed his head.

“Halde . . . I have a request.”

“Your word is my command.”

Anna wanted to stamp her boots or slap the young saal-meister. Instead, she forced a smile. “Herstat will be arriving to become saalmeister. He will need your assistance to learn all he needs to know about Synfal quickly. He would learn it in any case, but your assistance would make matters easier.” Anna waited.

“I will offer all assistance I can,” promised Halde, his light gray eyes meeting Anna’s.

“My request is that you also learn from him. Watch how Herstat talks to people, how he makes them feel good without giving away what he must not.” Anna’s eyes focused on Halde, and she emphasized the next words slightly. “If you will learn from Herstat, if you work at knowing people as you know the keep, then I will indeed reward you.”

For the first time, Halde appeared uncertain, and his hand went to the neatly trimmed dark beard. “Lady . . .”

“You have talent, Halde, and I need talent. But I need someone who does not make people feel like tools. People need to feel like people. That is not weakness; that is another skill.” Anna cleared her throat. She wasn’t good at this sort of lecture, but she was desperately short of people who were good at what they did. “Do you understand?”

Halde nodded, then swallowed. “Might I ask . . . of the heir?”

“I’d ask you to say nothing until I make the announcement.” Halde nodded. “The heir will be Lord Jimbob. The past lords of Defalk have been weakened because they didn’t have enough coin or lands. That left them unable to protect their people. After the heir is named, I will not have any part in the day-to-day running of Synfal. That will be up to you and Herstat. Now, and when Lord Jimbob visits in the future, as he will more frequently as he gets older, he will learn all he can.”

Halde inclined his head. “In these times, few could fault your decision. Some lords may rage behind their walls, but few will say so where any can hear.”

“What of those in Synfal?” asked Jecks.

“Already, it is clear that the regent is fair and just. That is rare as well, and most call themselves fortunate.”

“Most?” asked Anna.

Halde smiled ironically. “I have not found anyplace where all agree, even in my father’s house.”

“Do you have any questions?”

“Do you know, lady, when I might expect this . . . Herstat?”

“Within the next two weeks, Halde. And no,” she anticipated the question, “I do not know how long he will need your assistance. I do know that he is just and fair, and as kind as he can afford to be.”

“Thank you, lady.” Halde bowed again.

“You may go, Halde. Thank you for all your help and hard work. I do appreciate it.”

After the door closed, Hanfor shook his head. “He listened. I did not think he would. You are a wonder, Lady Anna.”

Anna just felt tired.

“What have you in mind?” asked Jecks.

“I need a saalmeister for Loiseau, and I need someone who can put it back together so that it works without sorcery.” She reached for her goblet and took a long swallow of water. “I hope he can learn. I’m asking a lot.”

“He has skill,” Hanfor added.

“But can he learn about people?” Anna turned to Jecks. “Was I right about Herstat? I only have met him once.”

Jecks smiled broadly and shook his head. “One would never have guessed that. You described him well. At times, my lady, you indeed astound me.”