Spellsong - Darksong Rising Part 2

"It may last longer than Defalk," suggested Liende. "When the Regent creates a sorcery, it is powerful indeed."

"Not always." replied Anna. "There was this dam-"

"The flood was powerful... was it not?" countered the chief player. "And the dam remains, a third cataract on the Falche."

"This was the dam that tilted and started the flood that swept away most of Dumaria and Narial?" asked Firis.

Anna nodded as she took another mouthful of the beef, dry beneath the brown gravy. The dam she'd created across the Falche near Abenfel had drained her energies for weeks, and it had almost been a relief when it bad slipped loose from the canyon walls and tilted forward-except for the wall of water that had swept through Dumar, killing thousands, and precipitating the Spellsong War with Lord Ehara.

"They say that it created a new lake leagues long. Is that true?"

"There's a new lake there," Anna answered. "How long it is, I don't know." A good reminder of how trying to do too much with spellsong can create an even worse mess.

"Will Dumar keep the agreement?" asked Gatrune bluntly.

"Lady Siobion serves as regent for her son. Her armsmaster serves me. If she fails to keep the agreement, I could let the dam at Abenfel fail completely."Anna took two more slices of beef, as delicately as she could. But how can you be delicate when you have to stuff yourself to maintain the energy you need for spellsinging?

Gatrune nodded. "It is good that you do not rely just upon faith."

Necessary, but not good "I've discovered that." Anna paused, then asked, "How does the harvest look?"

"Better than in years, but now we must worry about late rains." Gatrune shook her head. "In past years, we could count on dry weather for harvesting what little survived the dry and heat. Now the fields are high and full-but we could have too much rain."

"Let us hope not." Anna took another sip of the amber wine. "Have you heard from your sister lately?"

"Herene has written often. She is well, but she finds herself... less sure than she will admit."

Anna smiled at the wry tone. "She asks for advice?"

The white-and-blonde-haired Lady of Pamr laughed, openly and without rancor.

"Truly, it is amazing how matters Change?"

"I thought she would be a good warder for Sargol's heirs?"

"You were most gracious to allow them to retain their sire's lands, after his treason," pointed out the Lady of Pamr.

"He didn't see it as treason," Anna pointed out. "I am a woman, and from another world. Women with power are not easily accepted in Defalk."

'That is true, but you are the Regent for the heir to Defalk, and you were confirmed by the Thirty-three. Attacking such a regent is treason." Gatrune's voice was firm as she added. "You were gracious."

"Not quite so gracious," Anna admitted. "I have indicated that Dinfan will be the heir. She's the oldest."

Gatrune's laugh was almost raucous. "And Herene is her warder, and the armsmaster is beholden to you. Even my own brother found that morsel hard to swallow. Yet, he finds his sisters with as much power as he-thanks to you, Regent"

"I'm not trying to replace men with women." Anna took a sip of the amber wine, a very small sip. "I'm just trying to have the best people do the job. If a woman is better..." She shrugged.

"Some of the older lords find that thought disturbing."

"I know. Some have made it very clear?"

As the serving girl took Anna's empty plate, the Regent wanted to shake her head. Once, if she'd eaten four huge slabs of gravied beef, an enormous potato, and half a loaf of bread, she would have gained who knew how many pounds. Now she worried that she might not have eaten enough for the sorcery she had performed and might be called on to perform daily.

"We have but white cheese and melon," Gatrune apologized. "That's fine," Anna said. "We didn't give you much warning, and you've been very gracious."The serving girls set melon-a half melon-before each guest at the table, accompanied by a thick wedge of the white cheese.

"Most gracious." affirmed Liende.

"How do you find your quarters?" asked Gatrune.

"Comfortable...and dry." answered the chief player. "All the players appreciate that, and the food."

"You and the Regent deserve far more than that, but we provide what we can." The Lady of Pamr smiled.

"We are grateful," replied Liende.

"So am I," Anna said.

When all had finished the cheese and melon, Firis inclined his head toward Anna, then toward Gatrune. "If we might be excused, ladies? There are a few matters we must consider for the Regent's armsmen."

"And I also?" asked Liende. "I should see to my players."

Anna accepted the excuse and smiled. "Of course. I had not realized we had kept you."

"Would that we were kept so more often," answered Firis.

Liende offered the slightest of wry headshakes, and even stolid Himar cracked a smile at the younger overcaptain's brazen gallantry.

Once the doors closed behind the officers. Anna inclined her head toward the older-looking woman.

"Let us repair to my study," suggested Gatrune, rising.

The study was similar to many Anna had come to visit in Defalk-wood-paneled, with a wall of shelves only partly filled with books, and with a working tablelike desk, several chairs, and two side tables between the three chairs facing the desk. The two candles in the wall sconces barely flickered,, but also provided but dim illumination. The Lady of Pamr took one of the armed wooden chairs before the desk. This time, Lejun stood outside the doors, presumably to let Rickel get something to eat.

Anna took the one farthest from Gatrune's, leaving a chair vacant between them.

"Firis has indicated you wished to speak with him." Gatrune's eyebrows lifted ever so slightly.

Firis has learned a lot... Anna smiled. "I'm neither here to recruit your captain, nor to use him as a spy. But I need to know what people think... how his men feel. Would you like to sit in?"

"I think Firis will speak more freely without me, and you will find our views are similar."

"Then, tell me" Anna suggested, "what he will say."

"He will try to be tactful, and he will be charming." Gatrune laughed, but the sound died almost hollowly. "He worries, and so do I. In the past two seasons,many of the trades people in Pamr have become less friendly. Yet none has said a hostile word, not that they would. Several of the serving girls and cooks'

helpers have begged to move onto my lands, yet none could explain why."

Anna frowned, feeling a coldness grip her stomach, recalling the deserted feeling of Pamr when she had ridden through the town.

"I cannot tell you how candid he may be, but"-Gatrune frowned-"the armsmen that he holds and trains have become most skilled. And their consorts and children have asked to live here upon the lands, even unto offering to pay rents, rather than remain among the townsfolk."

"That hasn't happened before? People begging to move onto a lord's lands?"

"Not that I recall" Gatrune stood. "Best you talk to Firis. I will tell him that you await him."

"Thank you." Anna rose as well.

"Thank you, my lady. You concern yourself about my problems, and that is more than any Lord of Defalk in memory did."

Anna did not wait long in the dimness of the private study.

Firis bowed as he entered. "As you requested, Regent. These days I no longer question the worth of sorceresses." His face remained somber, but a hint of amus.e.m.e.nt lay behind the words.

Anna stood beside the broad table, then gestured toward the caned straight- backed chair before taking a seat behind the table. "I don't question the value of captains and armsmen either," she replied after sitting. "I wish we had more good ones."

Firis sat on the edge of the chair. "I am most pleased to be in the service-"

"I'm not recruiting you, Firis. From what I've seen and heard, and from what Lady Gatrune has said, you've done a good job here." Anna paused. "Something here is bothering you, and, as Regent, I need to know that sort of thing." She waited.

"It is most difficult..." After a moment, the overcaptain added, "The town of Pamr... it was not this way when I became Lady Gatrune's captain. At first, I thought the strangeness I felt was because I was an outsider, but many of the armsmen have lived all their lives in the demesne of Pamr, and most of those have even moved their families to the lands." Firis snorted. "Most times, armsmen will keep their women and consorts as far as they can from a lord's holding."

"It sounds strange' Anna said. "Do you know why?"

"Would that I did, lady. Would that I did. Many feel as I do, yet none has heard or seen anything that would give voice to the cause of those feelings."

"Well...I would appreciate it if you or Lady Gatrune would let me know if anything happens..." Anna held in a yawn. The day had been all too long.

"By your leave, Regent?"

Anna stood. "By my leave, Firis."After Firis left, Gatrune appeared in the open study doorway. "You were right,"

Anna admitted, stifling a yawn. "He was gallant and tactful, and he's worried."

So are you, but what exactly can you do?

"We will watch and inform you of what we discover."

Anna couldn't stop the next yawn. Lord, she was tired.

"You are tired. We can talk more in the morning." Gatrune waited for Anna.

Lejun followed the two down the corridor to the guest chambers.

When Anna finally stretched out on the big bed-lumpy as most were in Defalk- tired as she felt, her mind continued to race. Both Firis and Lady Gatrune felt something was wrong in Pamr. Is it because of what you did to the chandler? Anna sighed. Why do you have to pay for everything you do? Pay more for it than others do?

Still...she wasn't sure that was the cause. She only felt that. How often are your feelings wrong?

There was no answer to that-not one she liked.

4.

ESARIA, NESEREA.

Rabyn glances at his own image in the heavy gilt-framed mirror that dominates the dressing room off his bedchamber. Light green eyes survey his high-checked, narrow-faced visage. He nods and brushes damp and freshly washed hair back over his left ear. After fingering his beardless chin, he frowns, then readjusts the green cloak of the Prophet of Music.

His eyes drop to the miniature portrait on the long dressing table, and he smiles at the dark-haired woman centered in the gold frame. "I am being patient- as you taught me. But, Nubara, all of them, they will find out who is Prophet."

As he leaves the dressing room, his eyes go to the bedchamber where the blonde girl s.h.i.+vers under the silks, pretending to be asleep, and his lips curl into a smile of pleasure-momentarily-before he turns and walks down the short hall, stepping through the double doors from his chamber. The Mansuuran lancers stiffen. So do the guards who flank the lancers, the pair who wear the cream- and-green of the Prophet's Guard.

Rabyn ignores all four and walks not-quite-briskly along the corridor to the stairs, and thence up to the scrying pool. The two guards in green and cream follow, four paces back.

From the door Rabyn studies the three players who have risen and then bowed to him.

"The scrying song. Now!"

"It will take a moment, Prophet, to check the tuning;" explains the older violino player, bowing again.

'Then best you do so. Quickly."

As the trio of string players tune, Rabyn studies them, his eyes going from the graying and heavyset lead violinist to the balding man, and then to the thin- faced strawberry blonde. He studies the blonde, then looks back to the leader."We're ready, Prophet"

"Play." Rabyn clears his throat and nods, then waits for the melody before starting the spell.

Show me the sorceress of Defalk, what she does and where she may walk...

and who stands by her side and hand....

The scrying pool silvers, revealing a slender blonde woman about to mount a palomino-one of the oversized beasts from the gra.s.sland raiders of the north.

She swings up into the saddle with an ease born of practice and settles herself quickly, then nods to the officer in Defalkan purple beside her. They ride from the stables toward a column of waiting armsmen.

Rabyn studies the image, nodding abruptly. He sings the release couplet, and ripples cross the silvered water. The image vanishes, and the pool is but a pool. He turns to the three players, his eyes on the center woman, a heavy figure with graying brown hair. "You did not hold the tone clearly. Best you do better next time."

The violino player swallows. "Yes, Prophet and Seer."

Beside her, the thin and younger strawberry blonde player conceals a silent gulp.

Rabyn turns and leaves the scrying room. The two Prophet's Guards again follow as he makes his way down the stairs and along a shaded and columned walkway toward the open-columned hilltop chamber that serves as the summer receiving room. Out beyond the palace of the Prophet, the Bitter Sea is calm and flat under the morning sunlight. Barely a breeze penetrates the columns of the chamber.

"Greetings, Lord Rabyn." The overcaptain in the maroon uniform of a Mansuuran lancer who awaits Rabyn stands from behind the small desk to the side and below the dais on which the throne is set.

"Good day, Nubara" The latest Prophet of Music, Lord of Neserea, and Protector of the Faith of the Eternal Melody, fixes his eyes upon his regent "What have you heard about the sorceress?"