Darksong Rising: The Third Book of the Spellsong Cycle

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “Are you ready, my lady?” Jecks appeared at the end of Farinelli’s stall as Anna stepped away, carrying her lutar.

  “More than ready. I’m hungry and filthy.”

  Lejun and Rickel flanked Anna and Jecks as they left the stables. Kinor and Jimbob—and Liende and Himor—followed the four, if several paces back. Again, Anna felt as though she led a parade of sorts.

  “Young Captain Firis … is somewhat …” Jecks shook his head.

  “Familiar?” Anna grinned. “Why … Lord Jecks … you sound almost jealous.”

  “Me?”

  Despite Jecks’ denial, Anna could see the flush under the tanned skin of the older lord. She touched his arm gently. “If I should choose to be … familiar … with anyone … it would not be Firis. He’s far more like a fresh younger brother who sometimes needs a scolding.”

  “My lady … I did not …”

  Anna squeezed his shoulder again. “You don’t need to apologize.” She smiled. “Your … I’m glad you care.” Her boots clicked on the stones of the lower outer landing leading to the steps up to the house. She glanced up to see Lady Gatrune and several others standing under the portico, waiting. “Ready for more pleasantries, Lord High Counselor?”

  Jecks squared his shoulders. “A quiet dinner with you, even with piles of scrolls, would be more to my taste.”

  “Mine, too … but that’s not in the cards.”

  Again, as a puzzled expression flitted across Jecks’ face, Anna was reminded of how idioms didn’t translate, even in similar languages. Like George Bernard Shaw or whoever it was that said the Americans and British were divided by a common language.

  “Regent, Lord Jecks.” A broad smile crossed the face of Lady Gatrune, whose blonde-and-white hair was drawn back into a bun of sorts, and bound with silver-and-purple cords. “You remember my son Kyrun?”

  Kyrun retained the short blond hair Anna vaguely remembered, and the cowlick she clearly recalled. “Lady Regent, Lord Jecks.” He bowed, then straightened.

  “Lady Gatrune, Kyrun,” Anna inclined her head to the taller Gatrune, then to her son.

  Jecks repeated the salutations.

  “We are glad to see you, but will not trouble you until you are refreshed and we can talk at dinner.” Gatrune offered another smile.

  “Thank you. It’s always good to be here,” answered Anna. “I don’t know if you knew, but Lord Jecks is also now Lord High Counselor.”

  “Defalk could scarcely do better,” replied the rangy lady. “My brother speaks highly of you, Lord Jecks, and he seldom speaks highly of anyone.”

  Anna half-turned, gesturing to those who followed. “Lord Jimbob, Kinor, my chief of players, Liende, and Overcaptain Himar.”

  “I am pleased to welcome you all to Pamr,” Gatrune said. “We will settle you in your rooms, first.”

  After following Gatrune down one corridor and up a set of wide stairs and down a second corridor, Anna found herself in the largest guest suite, one with an oversize and netted four poster bed and a separate bathing chamber—with the tub already filled. Jecks had the adjoining chamber on one side, and Jimbob on the other. I suppose Jimbob will be irked that he doesn’t have the chamber of honor, too.

  Careful … he might not be thinking that at all. Right … Anna glanced at the bolt on the dark-stained oak door, then set the lutar on the bench at the foot of the bed, beside the mirror and the saddlebags.

  While she bathed, Anna sang a set of vocalises to warm up her voice. Then, after dressing in the single all-purpose green gown she carried everywhere, Anna took out the lutar and tuned it. Setting it aside, she went to the door of the second-floor guest chamber and opened it.

  “Kerhor … if you would, could you see if someone could find Lord Jecks for me?”

  “Yes, Lady Anna.”

  Anna walked back into the chamber and extracted the lutar, running her fingers over the wood so carefully crafted by young Daffyd. She shook her head. Poor Daffyd. All he’d wanted was revenge for his father’s death, and yet he’d changed all Defalk by summoning Anna, and never lived to see all the changes.

  “Lady Anna?” Jecks’ voice followed the thump on her door.

  “Come in.” Anna laid the lutar on the bench and uncased the traveling mirror, propping it up on the straight-backed chair before reclaiming the lutar.

  “You summoned me?” Jecks wore the blue tunic and white shirt beneath, the outfit in which he appeared so handsome.

  “I didn’t summon you.” Anna smiled. “I hoped you’d be free. I didn’t like the way Pamr felt this afternoon.” She took out the lutar and began to tune it. “I wanted you to watch the mirror with me.”

  Jecks nodded. “You continue to fret about the chandler.”

  “There’s a lot to fret about.” Anna finished tuning the instrument and turned to face the mirror, clearing her throat before starting the spell.

  Mirror, mirror, now let us see,

  young Farsenn as he may be,

  within the chandlery … .

  The mirror remained blank.

  “He’s not in the chandlery, then.”

  “Can you see that chamber?” asked Jecks.

  “I’ll need to change the spell for that.” Anna thought, then strummed the lutar and sang.

  Mirror, mirror, now let us see,

  the chandlery’s place of sorcery,

  where Farsenn and the drums did bring … .

  The back room of the chandlery was empty. Even the clay statue had vanished, as had the set of drums.

  “They’re afraid of you,” Jecks said.

  “Not afraid enough,” Anna replied. “They took everything, and that means that they’re still planning something.” She lifted the lutar once more.

  Mirror, mirror, let us now see

  Farsenn the chandler where he may be.

  Show the image bright and clear … .

  Farsenn appeared, along with his brother, in a cellar of some sort, with the clay statue set in a dim corner. The two men appeared to be arguing, with strong gestures.

  Anna and Jecks watched, but the argument continued, and Anna sang a release couplet. Then she tried three other spells, to see if she could locate the pair. The first image revealed a square house set on a dusty road. Anna sighed. They’d passed dozens of dwellings virtually identical.

  The second image showed farmlands and the Chean River, but the location could have been anywhere in a hundred deks to either side of Pamr. The third image was blank.

  Anna swayed.

  Jecks caught her, and eased her into the chair that did not hold the mirror. “You can do no more.”

  Anna sat quietly for a moment, then leaned forward and laid the lutar on the bench at the foot of the bed. “Now … what do I do? I can’t think of any better way to find him, and he can wait longer than we can.”

  “He cannot believe he can stand against you, not if he fled so precipitously,” Jecks pointed out. “Best you deal with your task at Mencha and then determine what you must do.”

  “You’re not excited about going into Ebra, are you?”

  “No, my lady, but I was not eager to enter Dumar, or for you to attack Vult, either.” Jecks laughed sardonically. “You managed well despite my fears.”

  “I only made it through Dumar because of you,” she pointed out, finally standing. “We need to eat, and I shouldn’t keep everyone waiting any longer.”

  The two walked down the corridor, Rickel following, Kerhor remaining to guard her chamber.

  Lady Gatrune stood at the door to the long hall on the second level. Beside her in the hallway waited Jimbob, Kinor, Kyrun, Firis, Liende, and Himar, as well as two men and a woman who were unfamiliar to Anna.

  The Lady of Pamr extended an arm toward the three strangers. “Lady Anna, might I present Lord Kysar’s younger sister Je’elasia and her consort Dvoyal, and Dvoyal’s brother Zybar? They are returning to Arien.”

  “I’m so pleased to meet you.” Anna smiled. Are they related to Ani
entta, Secca’s mother? With Anientta’s father the lord of Arien, that would be just your luck.

  “And we you, Lady Anna,” replied Dvoyal smoothly, so smoothly that Anna felt her guard rising.

  “Indeed,” added Je’elasia.

  “I apologize for delaying supper.” Anna felt herself flushing as she inclined her head to Gatrune. “There was a pressing matter … involving …” She shook her head. “I’ll explain after everyone gets a chance to eat.”

  “Then let us eat.” Lady Gatrune nodded toward Anna.

  Anna led the way into the dining hall, and, once more, Anna found herself at the head of the table, with Gatrune on her right, and Jecks on her left. Jimbob sat beside Gatrune, and Je’elasia beside Jecks. Zybar sat beside Jimbob, and Dvoyal beside his consort. Then came Kyrun, Liende, Himar, Firis, and Kinor. Anna almost felt sorry for the redheaded student at the bottom of the table, except that he was across from Firis, who was always animated.

  The dinner was simple—a heavy lamb stew laden with potatoes and vegetables, accompanied by dark rye bread. Anna took her normal huge helping, ignoring the glances from Dvoyal and Zybar.

  Gatrune poured an amber wine into Anna’s goblet, and then Jecks’, before passing the pitcher down the table. Once the wine had reached Kinor, the Lady of Pamr lifted her goblet, “To the Regent, and a good dinner.”

  “To the Regent.”

  Anna, feeling slightly light-headed, ate several mouthfuls of stew before stopping and looking at Gatrune, and speaking to the lady, directly and softly, under the louder voices from the lower end of the table. “I mentioned … sorcerous work. You remember the chandler? He and his brother fled the town after we rode through. He’s been working Darksong, and one of the reasons why we came to Pamr was to look into what he was doing … except he’s disappeared.”

  “You cannot scry him with your sorcery?” murmured Gatrune.

  “I can, but all the mirror shows is a simple house like dozens of others. I’ll try more late … .” Anna shrugged apologetically. “He is working Darksong. I’d have Firis strengthen your walls and gates.”

  Gatrune nodded. “I will talk to him.”

  Anna lifted her voice toward the three from Arien. “Perhaps you could tell me something about Arien. I haven’t had the chance to visit there.”

  Dvoyal and Zybar exchanged glances before Dvoyal, who appeared to be the older sibling, replied, “Arien lies in the most fertile valley to the west and north of where the Ostfels turn west toward Synope. Lord Tybel has worked long and hard to ensure that peace and prosperity are the lot of the people of Arien.”

  “Are you related to Lord Tybel?” asked Anna with what she hoped was apparent ingenuousness. “Forgive my ignorance, but, as you must know, I do not come from Liedwahr.”

  “Lord Tybel is our uncle.”

  “Oh … so your mother or father is related to Lady Anientta of Flossbend.”

  “Anientta is our father’s younger sister.”

  Anna nodded politely. “And your father is?”

  “Beltyr,” replied Zybar.

  “It sounds as though your father and Lord Tybel are close.”

  “Indeed they are, as brothers should be,” emphasized Dvoyal.

  Tybel’s requests to consolidate his holdings with those of Anientta made a great deal more sense. “Brothers should be close and respect each other. They do not, always, unfortunately, even in Defalk.”

  Dvoyal frowned, almost quizzically, while Zybar looked as though he were about to nod before catching himself.

  Interesting difference between the brothers. “You two are brothers, but do you always agree?” asked Anna.

  “Family must always agree,” answered Dvoyal smoothly, but quickly. “If we do not, there will always be others who would put us at each other.”

  Zybar gave a slightly ironic smile that vanished quickly.

  “I don’t know that outsiders are always the problem. I’ve already been requested to deal with problems involving brothers and their inheritances.” Anna smiled faintly. “So it’s good to hear that your father and Lord Tybel get along well. Who might be Lord Tybel’s heirs? You might know that if they’re younger, I’d be pleased to invite them to Falcor.”

  “He has two sons,” answered Dvoyal. “Altyr is near-on thirty, but Reralt is but fourteen.”

  “Well … there are a number of fosterlings at Falcor, and your uncle might well consider the possibility.” Anna smiled, then pitched her voice toward young Kyrun, who was trying to squelch a yawn. “Kyrun … would you like to come to Falcor when you’re older? If your mother approves, of course.”

  Kyrun offered a wide-eyed look, as if to say that he’d never considered the matter.

  Anna laughed gently. “You have a few years to think about it.”

  “You are headed … if I might inquire?” asked Lady Gatrune.

  “To Loiseau … my holding at Mencha,” Anna replied. “I haven’t been able to get there in more than a year, and I’m afraid there’s more to be done than I’ll have time to accomplish.”

  “Your holding?” asked Zybar.

  “Mine.” Anna smiled, feeling her face would drop off from all the semifalse smiles she had already offered. “I received it from Lord Brill … in a manner of speaking, after his death … .” Anna went on to recount how she had gained the lands and the keep of Loiseau, careful to keep eating between fragments of the story, knowing she would need the food and the energy in the days to come.

  31

  As the sun cleared the eastern horizon, Anna stood on the portico steps and turned a last time to Lady Gatrune. “Please keep an eye out for the chandler.”

  “You have warned us, and Captain Firis will ensure we are well kept, lady. You must take care of your own lands.” The rangy white-and-blonde-haired lady smiled. “And whatever else is needful for Defalk and the Regency.” Her eyebrows lifted. “I will not pry, but knowing you, you would not have come all this way with so many lancers merely to set your lands in order. Few others would know, and I will not speak of it, but be there anything we can offer …”

  “The provisions and the food and shelter and company were all very welcome.” Anna returned Gatrune’s smile warmly. “What means the most to me is your friendship from the beginning, when no one knew who I was.”

  “That you have continued to accord us that friendship, after many more glorious in Defalk have sought you … that, Lady Anna, is why you are Regent, and why we always look to your visits.” Gatrune inclined her head. “May your journey prove fruitful.”

  “Thank you. Thank you very much.” Anna leaned forward and lifted the cased lutar, then turned and walked down the paved way toward the stables. Jimbob, Kinor, and Jecks had already said their farewells and were down readying their mounts.

  Firis stood by Farinelli’s stall as Anna entered the stable, followed as always by her guards, this time Rickel and Blaz. “Good day, Lady Regent.”

  “Good day,” Anna replied, despite feeling slightly queasy. Early rising had always done that to her, and being on Erde hadn’t changed that. She slipped into the stall and patted the gelding, then slipped the blanket in place, followed by the saddle.

  Farinelli whuffed.

  “There are rumors, Lady Anna … that you might stray east of Mencha.” Firis looked at Anna as she stood beside Farinelli. “I would that some of our armsmen—and I—might serve you again.”

  “Rumors are only rumors, Captain Firis.” Anna smiled, looking straight at the dark-haired Firis. “I would like to take some of your armsmen, and you, Firis, but they might be needed here.”

  “Here?”

  Anna nodded. “I have told Lady Gatrune. The chandler Farsenn has been trying Darksong, and I do not think he will be friendly to any lord or lady. My sorcery cannot locate him, and the needs of Defalk mean that I cannot remain here. Farsenn has been using Darksong to convert men to follow him. If you weakened your force to strengthen mine …”

  “A chandler?” Firis laughed.
>
  Anna smiled gently. “Once, Firis, I was only a teacher.”

  The dark-haired captain’s face sobered. “From any but you, Lady Anna, I would still laugh. When you say such, my soul chills … .”

  “You have a task, Firis. It may not be glorious, but it remains solid and important.” She bent to fasten the girths.

  Firis laughed. “You would protect me from my own nature, yet again.”

  “I just want you to protect Lady Gatrune.” Anna took the saddlebags from Blaz and eased them up in place behind the saddle, tying the leather thongs quickly, but firmly. Then came the mirror and lutar, heavier by far than the few garments she carried.

  “I hear, and I will do so. Even with my life.” After a moment, Firis added, “Not that I do not worry about your adventures.”

  “You can worry. Just keep Gatrune and the hold safe.” Anna checked the bridle.

  After leading Farinelli out to join Jecks and the others—already horsed—Anna mounted and offered a wave that she hoped would do for a salute and farewell before guiding Farinelli to the head of the column.

  “I worry about leaving them without dealing with the chandler,” she finally murmured to Jecks as they approached the gate.

  “You worry too much, my lady,” offered Jecks. “You have frightened off the chandler, and you have warned the lady and her captain. As you said, you cannot be everywhere, and you have determined that the eastern borders must be secured.”

  “I brood. You know that, my lord Jecks.” And you know that jobs left undone are always worse when they have to be done later or redone. Yet a relatively new Regent cannot kill even a chandler—if you could locate him—merely for suspicion of Darksong—not without creating even more unrest among the lords of the Thirty-three.

  Anna squinted into the sun, wondering what she would find at Loiseau, hoping the mess would not be too great, and that the staff had managed to keep things in some semblance of order. As they passed beyond the gate, she inclined her head to Meris, the armsman who had first eased her way into seeing Lady Gatrune and whom she’d failed to recognize a year later. “Take care, Meris.”