The Shadow Sorceress

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  The unintroduced lancer overcaptain’s eyes followed the gesture, then, almost belatedly, took in the blood splotches on her sleeves and trousers. The faintest of smiles ap­peared, almost as if of approval, before vanishing.

  “You have blade training as well, Lady Sorceress?" asked Veria, gently, apologetically.

  “My....mentor...Lady Anna--- she insisted that all whom she trained be as skilled as possible with knife and sabre.” Secca’s smile was wry. “I had not quite understood the reasons for a sorceress to know such, not until today.”

  “So you killed some with a blade as well as sorcery?” Veria laughed. “Good.”

  The Ranuan overcaptain nodded.

  “There wasn’t much choice,” Secca pointed out, abruptly conscious that everyone around her seemed to tower over her, except for the blue-eyed Lancer overcaptain who was but a head or so taller. “We lost the arms commander of Synek and many others.”

  "There seldom is much choice in such.” Veria’s tone was wry. After a moment, she asked, “What will you now?”

  “Five companies of the Sturinnese are riding northward to meet with reinforcements from Dolov.” Secca shrugged. “I cannot leave them to ride where they will.”

  The Ranuan overcaptain leaned forward and murmured something in the counselor’s ear.

  For a moment, Veria frowned, then nodded. She smiled as she addressed Secca “There is little we can yet offer you, for our stores are few and our losses grievous, and the Sturinnese ships remain yet off the port. That is, for now at least. Overcaptain Alcaren would offer his two companies of SouthWomen to aid you in dealing with the Sturinnese as a partial recompense for your willingness to look beyond your own borders and needs.”

  “That is most generous...and welcome,” Secca said immediately, even as she wondered at the reasons behind the offer—and her own quick acceptances

  “They would, of course, be under your direct corn­mand.” Alcaren’ s voice was a smooth baritone, a voice that carried without effort. “Through me, but under your direct orders”

  Secca understood Alcaren’s offer. The South Women would not accept the command of an outsider--- and usu­ally not from any male officer.

  Veria smiled, as if she understood Secca’s puzzlement “Alcaren was the chief personal guard of the Matriarch.”

  “Just one of them,” the broad-shouldered officer added apologetically. “We were the last sent from Encora to aid Elahwa. We have suffered far less. We would not wish the Sturinnese to remain anywhere in Liedwahr.”

  .“Neither would we,” Secca pointed out. Veria cleared her throat. Secca turned, waited.

  “We can bring some supplies,” Veria said. “We have taken the liberty of sending a few wagons already so that you will not have to forage or go hungry in following the Sturinnese.”

  “We are most grateful,” Secea said. “If the weather permits, we will begin tomorrow.”

  “It should be most clear,” Veria suggested.

  There was another period of silence before the counselor spoke again. “There is little else we can say, except that we are most grateful and that You are always welcome in Elahwa” She bowed slightly. “We will send what more we can in rations and supplies.”

  “Thank you.” Secca inclined her head.

  “And Overcaptain Alcaren will brief you on his lanc­ers.” Vena bowed again. “I should go.”

  “We thank you,” Secca said again, not knowing exactly what else she could say.

  The five watched as Counselor Vena walked back to­ward her mount.

  As the counselor rode away, accompanied by little more than a squad of woman lancers in red, Alcaren turned to Secca. “My lancers are South Women.”

  “I understand. Would you prefer to billet them close to me, or on one side of the camp?"

  Alcaren tilted his head slightly, then smiled. “They would be honored to be billeted close to a sorceress-­protector.”

  Secca glanced to Melcar and then Wilten. “That will be the way it is done.”

  Both of her overcaptains nodded.

  “If you would not mind, I must look to my lancers.” Alcaren bowed.

  “Melcar and Wilten will join you in a moment,” Secca said. "That way, you three can work out matters."

  Alcaren bowed, letting his eyes linger on Sceca for just a fraction of an instant longer than he might have, before turning.

  Once the Ranuan overcaptain was a good ten yards away, Secca turned to Melcar and Wilten. “You know that his lancers are all women?”

  Melcar nodded.

  “Ah . . . yes,” admitted Wilten, as if he had not thought about the matter.

  “Pass the word that they are not to be approached, except as allies You might also pass the word that they are very good with blades of all sizes, and that attempting to force one.” Secca paused. “Most men lose what they consider most valuable, if not their lives. We don’t need to lose lancers on either side.”

  Wilten swallowed.

  Melcar smiled. “I think I can make sure that the men understand."

  “Ah...yes, lady,” stammered Wilten.

  After the two left, Secca turned to Richina. “What do you think?”

  “Overcaptain Alcaren is handsome, and he must be good.”

  “At what?” asked Secca. “Someone wants him here to watch us."

  “You do not think..."

  Secca shook her head. “I don’t know what to think. If the lancers weren’t SouthWomen....but they will cer­tainly fight the Sturinnese. Holding them back may be more of a problem.”

  “He likes you,” Richina ventured.

  Secca shook her head. “He’s interested. Why—-that’s another question.” She had more than a few speculations, wondering if the two companies were as much a guard for her and Richina as a thank-you. As for Alcaren. . . she wasn’t sure what to think, except that she knew she would have to watch him and consider his role most carefully.

  And she was going to miss Stepan. That she knew.

  69

  Encora, Ranuak

  The Exchange Mistress steps into the small study of the Matriarch. Alya motions to the chair on the other side of the flat table desk, Dyleroy eases into it. “You had requested my pres ence?"

  “I did.” The Matriarch smiles. “What do your seers and traders tell you about Elahwa?”

  "That the warships of the Sea-Priests remain untouched. They have left the Gulf of Discord and sail along the north coast. Alcaren and the SouthWomen remain with the Sorceress-Protector.”

  “Why the north coast?”

  “Either to reinforce the lancers at Dolov... or, I fear, to reclaim them in order to attack us.”

  “Because they were defeated at Elahwa? Because the Sorceress-Protector was victorious?” asks AIya, leaning back ever so slightly in the straight-backed chair.

  “It was a costly victory, I fear,” replied the Exchange Mistress. “Even for us. We continue to lose trading ves­sels, and now...perhaps more.”

  Alya nods. “The Sea-Priests failed to understand one small matter, the Harmonies be praised.”

  An expression of puzzlement flits across the face of the older woman and vanishes. “There may be much...”

  “The new Sorceress-Protector of the East was willing to share power and glory and danger with the younger sorceress. It took two strong sorceresses.” Alya nods. “You are right. That is why they will attack us next.”

  “Because we lack sorceresses such as Defalk?”

  “Because we have not trained sorcerers and sorceresses for war.” Alya shakes her head. “The wor1d is changing, and I fear what those changes will be. The Sea-Pigs de­stroyed Narial by combining Darksong and Clearsong to raise the oceans into a giant wave. The sorceress-protectors are wrenching metals from the earth and changing the weather. They are using sorcery to poison their enemies at a distance.”

  Dyleroy attempts to block an expression of disgust and does not fully succeed. “The Ladies of the Shadows . . .?"

  “
Yes. They have been to see me twice. They seemed more concerned about Alcaren or the possibility that I might try battle sorcery if we are beleaguered. They would be even less pleased if they knew what I know.” Alya’s lips twist. “I should say... when they know, for they will discover such soon enough.”

  “Liedwahr...can we stand another Spell-Fire War?” asks the Exchange Mistress.

  “I do not know. I only know that only sorcery will save us from the evils of the Sturiunese, and yet that sorcery may be almost as deadly as their thunder-drums and chains.” The Matriarch moistens her lips. “There is much evil yet locked behind the iron of the keep at Loiseau. The great sorceress showed restraint, and because most feared her power, she and her restraint were respected. None believe her successors have the power that she did. They do not, although they have more than most will believe. But there are more of them, and they have the knowledge she amassed. They will need to use it to preserve what they have created, and all of Erde and Liedwahr will suffer for it.”

  “But . . .if no one stops the Sea-Priests..." Dyleroy says slowly.

  “Then the suffering will be greater and last far longer. The Ladies of the Shadows do not wish to accept that. One told me that we would be saved if all Liedwahr rejected song-sorcery.” Alya pauses. “As if we could ever enforce such.”

  Dyleroy offers a smile, partly of sympathy, and partly of condolence.

  “As my mother said, we must trust in the Harmonies when it seems that it is most unwise.”

  “What of Alcaren? Did you give him orders?” asks Dyleroy.

  “To deal with the sorceresses?" Alya smiles. “No, if I had given him orders, or even suggestions, he would have rejected them. With him, too, I am trusting in the Har­monies.”

  “That is a dangerous trust, with a sorceress watched by a sorcerer.”

  “Not so dangerous as leaving her unwatched. And who knows? Sometimes, two in sorcery are less dangerous than one.”

  Dyleroy nods, but barely.

  70

  Secca glanced around the cramped tent, which was crowded even with the cots folded up and set outside, what with two sorceresses, three overcaptains, an heir, and two chief players. The air was also close and slightly ran­cid, but she ignored that as she laid out the mirror and checked the tuning on the lutar.

  The first day of travel--- two days after the battle north of Elahwa-—had been short, less than five glasses, rather than the eight to ten that Secca’s lancers had averaged on their way from Synek to Elahwa. Part of that had been the late start, and part the cold wind and the intermittent flakes of snow blown out of the high gray clouds. And part had been the mixed nature of those following her. She had to wonder about the effectiveness of her force--- with Melcar and the Ebrans, her own lancers under Wilten, Haddev and the company of Silberfels lancers, and now Alcaren and two companies of SouthWomen. Again, she missed Ste­pan’s quiet way of ensuring all worked together, although Melcar scemed to be following Stepan’s example.

  Secca knew she was pressing her luck, but she certainly couldn’t leave ten or fifteen companies of Sturinnese lanc­ers, possibly with a Sea-Priest and thunder-drums, behind her. Even if she dared, where would she go? Back to Loiseau and through the Sand Pass in winter just to turn around or head somewhere else when Robero found she had returned? She refrained from shaking her head.

  Instead, she looked at those around her, meeting each set of eyes in turn. “I’m going to try to see where the Sturinnese lancers are. All the scouts can tell us is that their tracks are headed to the northeast?’

  Without more explanation, she began the spell.

  “Mirror, mirror, on the ground..."

  The silvered glass showed a campsite, much like the one outside the tent, except it was on a long flat rise overlooking the Eastern Ocean. Smoke rose from cook­fires, and the darkness of the smoke indicated something was being cooked--- most likely livestock taken from peasants and holders who would complain to either Hadrenn or Robero before all was done.

  “They are on the coast road,” Melcar said. “Not on the river road.”

  “Is the coast road a better road?” asked Secca.

  “In winter, it is less likely to receive snow, and it is warmer,” Melcar said. “But once you are more than a day north of the river junction, it heads in almost the opposite direction from Dolov.”

  Secca released the spell and tried a second one, one targeted at the lancers from Dolov. When the mists cleared, the glass showed the exact same image.

  “They’ve joined up,” Wilten said. “They must have arranged this before.”

  Secca frowned, then released the spell. She noted that Alcaren was also frowning. Palian looked at Secca intently, but said nothing.

  “Let me try to see where the Sturinnese ships are.” The third image showed a formation of vessels under full sail. Although it was difficult to tell, the ships displayed in the glass seemed to be sailing northward. Secca liked that even less. Were the Sturinnese going to land more lancers and thunder-drums to fight her? Using the weather of winter to their advantage?

  The fourth scrying spell was for the harbor at Elahwa. From what the glass showed, there were no Sturinnese vessels beyond the harbor.

  Secca released the spell and lowered the lutar. Her head was aching, and daystars had begun to flash before her eyes.

  “You look worried, lady,” offered Richina.

  “I should be happy for the FreeWomen, but I have to worry about what the Sea-Priests have in mind for those ships.”

  “Perhaps they go to meet with the other Sturinnese forces,” suggested Haddev, a faint smile indicating sat­isfaction at determining the reason for such action.

  The slightest hint of a furrow crossed Alcaren's brow, but the Ranuan over captain said nothing.

  “They may be, but I can’t do any more scrying right now. I’m not sure it would tell us anything more,” Secca said.

  “Perhaps they will reclaim the lancers fleeing us and then sail to Dumar to reinforce their lancers there,” sug­gested Wilten.

  “We’ll have to wait and see.” Secca blinked. “I just wanted you all to see what I did so that everyone saw the same thing.” That was important, she felt, with all the different overcaptains and forces. “Think about it, and we’ll talk later, after the evening meal.”

  All those in the tent just stood there, shifting their weight from one booted foot to another, or not moving at all. Secca squinted, trying to read expressions that blurred with the daystars and holes in her vision.

  “The Lady Secca needs a moment of rest,” Richina said politely but firmly.

  As the small crowd filed out, Secca suspected she needed far more than rest.

  71

  The wind blew out of the northwest, a cold and steady flow of air that chilled the riders and their mounts. Secca’s ever more motley force rode northward, remaining yet on the river road. By the next day, she would have to choose whether to head eastward after the Sturinnese or continue northward to Dolov.

  She shook her head. That was no choice at all.

  As Secca had been taking time to talk to each of the overcaptains, for the moment she rode beside Haddev, with Richina and Palian following directly behind.

  "...have you always visited Silberfels often?" she asked the heir to Synek, offering a smile that was less than she felt.

  “I was fostered there for a year when I was thirteen, as was Verad three years ago when he was fourteen. We rode back together this time.” Haddev Iaughed. “That was how we came to have two companies of lancers. My uncle did not feel one company was enough in these troubled times, and sent his own."

  Secca nodded. So.... one company of Ebran lancers, unmentioned by Hadrenn, and perhaps more, remained at Synek. That did not bother her so much as Hadrenn’s insistence that he could raise but ten or twelve companies. She wondered what else the Lord of Synek had concealed.

  She also wondered how much would change with Stepan’s death. “What do you think of Silberfels?
”

  "It is a holding. The keep is much older than father’s, you know, and the main section is built into the mountain. There are tunnels under the keep, from the old mines. Uncle Selber stores provisions there now. One is a cistern, with always fresh water. It would be hard to take, I would think."

  Secca smiled and nodded again, trying to encourage Haddev to keep talking.

  “The older rooms are dark. That is because they were built to stand off the Corians and the Suhlmorrans."