Darksong Rising: The Third Book of the Spellsong Cycle

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  Fifty yards in front of Anna, the standard-bearer turned his mount southward, and the smell of roasted fowl drifted along the avenue that sloped downhill slightly and would lead them to the liedburg. The streets seemed to have people on them, unlike in years previous; but those who were out stepped clear from the paving stones as they saw the purple banner.

  Rickel and Blaz rode forward of Anna and more toward the edges of the street, their eyes constantly moving, studying the scattered handfuls of people as the column continued southward.

  “Hail the Regent!” called a tall man in innkeeper’s brown from the narrow front step of the Golden Lutar.

  “Best wishes to you, innkeeper!” Anna called back.

  “Thank you, Regent and sorceress!”

  “He’ll tell everyone who’ll listen that he talked to the Regent,” murmured Jecks.

  “It can’t hurt, can it?” she asked.

  “Not with those who will listen to him,” Jecks answered with a laugh.

  Ahead, another two hundred yards past the inn, past the last of the more affluent three-storied dwellings on the north side of the open ground that circled the liedburg, she could see the liedburg, with wisps of smoke curling above the walls and through the gray and damp air.

  The gates stood wide open, as they always had since she had become Regent, and the pair of duty armsmen in Defalkan purple raised their arms in a form of salute as Anna neared the gates. She inclined her head in response as she and Jecks rode through the gate.

  “ … good to be back …” said Jimbob from behind them.

  “ … won’t be here more than a day or two … just enough to get supplies and give the mounts a breather,” answered Kinor.

  “ … wouldn’t mind a clean tunic …”

  There’s a lot you wouldn’t mind, but you won’t have much time to appreciate it. Anna glanced toward the side courtyard. Was Menares waiting for them? She frowned.

  “If you have no need of me, lady,” Himar said, easing his mount closer to Anna, “I will be setting the lancers and seeing what supplies we will be needing for the journey westward. You still plan on the day after tomorrow?”

  “It won’t be any earlier.” Anna nodded. “There’s too much for me to do, and I suppose the men and their mounts could use the rest.”

  “They could use more,” Himar reminded her.

  “Talk to me tomorrow. If you really think it’s necessary, maybe we can add another day.”

  “Best I check on all the mounts, then.” The overcaptain urged his mount toward the rear courtyard and the lancer barracks and stables.

  The gray-bearded Menares was indeed standing ten yards ahead of Anna, against the inner wall of the liedburg’s side courtyard, just outside the stable doors, clearly assuming that Anna would unsaddle and groom Farinelli. The gray wool cloak he wore could not conceal the fact that Menares, while still remaining an impressively broad figure, had become considerably less corpulent. Dark circles ringed the intent but seemingly colorless eyes that dominated his round face.

  Anna guided Farinelli to the stable door before dismounting, trying to leave space for the riders in the column behind to pass on their way to the main barracks and stables. For a moment, as always, Anna held to the saddle while her legs adjusted. Then she stepped out of the mist and into the dryer dimness of the stable.

  Menares followed Jecks and Anna and Farinelli into the stable.

  “He looks good, lady,” offered Tirsik the stablemaster, stepping forward toward Anna, “except I’d like the farrier to check his shoes.”

  “If you would—” Anna stopped and sighed. “Let me know when you need me.” She’d have to be there if Farinelli needed reshoeing.

  “That I will, lady.” The stablemaster looked at Jecks. “And your mount, lord?”

  “It would not hurt to check his shoes, though he is less … choosy about shoeing.” Jecks grinned at Anna.

  She grinned back.

  “Yours carries not the future of Defalk,” countered Tirsik. “Merely a high and most noble lord.”

  “Were you my stablemaster, master Tirsik …” Jecks mock-threatened.

  “You’d have my head, Lord Jecks, if I did not worry about the Lady Anna.” Tirsik bowed.

  Jecks laughed. “You are a scoundrel.”

  “Aye, and I’m too ancient to be other ’n that.” Tirsik bowed to Lady Anna. “Beggin’ your pardon, Regent.”

  “You’re pardoned, Tirsik.”

  Anna had her gear and the saddle off Farinelli and had begun to brush the gelding before she noticed Menares standing beside Rickel at the end of the stall. “What is it, Menares?” Anna was almost afraid to ask, but Menares wouldn’t have come out to the stable if he weren’t concerned. She kept grooming Farinelli while she spoke.

  “Lord Dannel, Lady Anna. He sent his son here to inquire when you would return. The young man was most rude.”

  “Hoede?”

  “No. This be an older man.”

  “An older son of Lord Dannel? Did he leave a scroll or anything?” Anna ducked and slipped to the gelding’s other side.

  “No, Lady Anna. I asked, but the young fellow said that his sire would deliver his message in person.”

  “Those are the worst kinds,” Jecks said, stepping up beside Menares. “Did he say when this might be?”

  “No, Lord Jecks. That was yesterday, and no one saw him today.”

  “I’ll have to tell him no. I can’t back down just because he’s upset. Then, I’d have to back down for every lord in Defalk, I suppose.”

  “Some have,” Jecks said. “They lasted but a season or so.”

  “I haven’t been Regent for much more than a year.” Anna set the brush aside and gave Farinelli a last pat on the neck. “Tirsik will feed you, fellow.”

  “Aye, and I will.” The stablemaster appeared with a wooden bucket containing grain.

  Anna picked up the lutar, leaving the saddlebags and the mirror case to the guards. After she left the stable, Jecks at her side, she crossed the courtyard and stepped into the lower corridor that led toward the receiving room.

  “I must check on Jimbob and Kinor,” Jecks said.

  “When you’re done, would you meet me in the receiving room to review the damage … all the scrolls piled there?”

  “I will be there after I settle the young scamps.” With a smile, Jecks turned.

  As she started toward the receiving room, she stopped, cocking her head, wondering if she heard rain on the roof—or horses coming across the open ground to the liedburg. You imagine too much. She shook her head and kept walking, carrying just the lutar. Much as she wanted a hot bath and clean clothes, she had the feeling that she’d better see just what had piled up in the way of scrolls and messages before she even thought about bathing.

  Rickel handed the saddlebags to Giellum, who bowed and started for the stairs.

  “Thank you, Giellum,” Anna said.

  “My pleasure, Lady Anna. We are all glad to see you back safe.” With a smile, the youngest guard started up the side staircase to the second level.

  Rickel and Blaz stationed themselves outside the receiving room, and Anna slipped through the door, and stopped—looking at the stack of scrolls that seemed to cover the worktable. “Lord …”

  After a moment, she set the lutar against the wall, then slowly picked up the first scroll—something from the rivermen. Not again … She glanced at the first lines.

  Regent and sorceress, Savior of Liedwahr, Restorer of Defalk, Protectoress of Harmony, and Lady of Mencha,

  The Guild of Rivermen has approached your ministers, and has requested, time upon time … . We cannot plead too strongly that the tariff levied upon us will force all of us from the waters of the rivers that have nourished us and fed our families since from before the days of the Corian lords … .

  The receiving-room door burst open, and Menares panted into the room, shouting, “Lady Anna! Your lutar! Your spells! Lord Dannel has attacked the liedburg with scores o
f armsmen and lancers! They are everywhere, killing everyone!”

  Anna dropped the scroll and scrambled for the lutar case, flicking the leather straps away as quickly as she could. Shouts came through the half-open door, and the sound of metal against metal, followed by grunts.

  “She’s in there! Get to the bitch!”

  Clunk … .

  A dull thud followed as some armsman fell against a wooden door.

  Anna shook herself, and pulled the lutar from the case. She fumbled with the tuning pegs and the strings, but moved toward the open door to the hallway as she began to sing, managing to get out words to the spell she knew all too well.

  Turn to fire, turn to flame …

  all those to strike—

  She found herself coughing, choking on mucus that had come from somewhere. She managed to clear her throat and spit out the garbage that had come from her lungs. Would happen now … With a deep breath, she stood just back of the open side of the doorway and began the chording and singing a second time.

  Turn to fire, turn to flame …

  all those to strike against my name.

  Turn to ash, turn to dust,

  these enemies as I must …

  The hissing of fire whips mixed with screams that died quickly. Anna found herself coughing once more and reached out to steady herself on the doorframe, then stepped out into the corridor where Rickel and Blaz stood with bloodied blades. Lejun and Kinor came hurrying down the corridor, stepping over blackened corpses, their blades also bare and stained.

  The muffled sound of arms and yells elsewhere was not ending, but continuing, and Rickel and Kinor glanced toward Anna, their eyebrows rising in puzzlement.

  Why? Anna wanted to bang her head against the wall. Because they can’t hear your voice through all the walls.

  “Lady Anna?” asked Kinor.

  “We need to get to the north tower. So I can sing out over the whole liedburg,” she added after a pause. “Quickly.” Before too many people die.

  “To the north tower!” ordered Rickel, raising his blade. “Blaz, follow the lady so none slip behind us.”

  Holding the lutar, Anna followed Kinor and her guards, past a half dozen charred corpses. She tried not to gag on the smell that was all too similar to burned meat, coughing her throat clear. When they turned at the end of the corridor, moving toward the stairs to the upper levels, Kinor, and Rickel stopped, finding a half-score of armsmen lurching toward them. Another group was attacking four armsmen in purple who held the base of the stairs, able to keep off the invaders only because of the comparative narrowness of the staircase.

  Anna began the chording and the spell, again.

  Turn to fire, turn to flame …

  The all-too-familiar whips of fire cleared both the corridor and the lower steps, leaving more blackened figures, and the sickening odor of burned meat. Anna coughed more secretions out of her throat, but kept moving, holding tightly to the lutar.

  “The north tower! The sorceress needs to spell the liedburg,” Kinor yelled through the smoky air. “Hold the stairs,” he added to the four regular armsmen as Rickel and Anna raced past, followed by Lejun and Blaz. Kinor then sprinted up the steps after the others.

  The second-floor corridor was empty, but Kinor and Anna’s guards hurried northward toward the steps to the tower, quickly checking each corner, but finding no invaders.

  At the sound of boots on the stone, coming from behind them and from the direction of her chambers, Anna lifted the lutar, but the two figures were those of Jecks and Jimbob.

  “The north tower,” Kinor explained as the white-haired lord glanced toward the Regent.

  “Good. She can spell from there,” Jecks said.

  The sound of fighting continued to rise from the liedburg courtyard, sounding louder by the time Anna reached the north tower steps.

  Anna winced as Kinor sprinted up the steps without waiting for any of the others.

  “Blaz … follow him … you as well, Lejun,” Rickel ordered.

  “We will hold here,” Jecks said to Rickel, “Jimbob, you follow the sorceress and guard her rear.” Then Jecks raised his voice to Anna, “Lady, sing your worst upon them!”

  Anna glanced up the narrow stone steps, but could hear nothing but the sound of boots on stone. She hurried after Blaz, lutar in her left hand, using her right for balance as she hurried upward, trying to breathe deeply, knowing she would need every bit of oxygen she could muster once she reached the open parapets of the tower. The tower steps were empty, and each door on every level had been flung open—none of the apartments, including the small one in which she had once lived, and the larger quarters that had briefly imprisoned Lady Essan, held anyone.

  Lejun stood on the landing nearest the top. “They have cleared the tower, lady.”

  “Thank you,” she gasped out. Riding had been good for her legs, but it clearly hadn’t helped her breathing. She took two deep breaths, then started up the last dozen or so of the stone steps. She was still panting by the time she reached the open space of the tower’s uppermost level. Kinor and Blaz—blades bare—waited for her.

  “Do what you must, lady,” Kinor said. “We will guard the steps.”

  Without speaking, Jimbob stepped up beside Kinor and Blaz.

  “Jecks and Rickel are guarding the bottom.” Anna forced herself to take several more deep breaths, breaths which led to another round of coughing. Shit! You wouldn’t think you’d need vocalises coming back to your own liedburg. She coughed her throat clear and began to check the lutar’s tuning before she walked to the chest-high parapet overlooking the courtyard and the liedburg building itself. Then she tried for full concert voice with the spell.

  Turn to fire, turn to flame …

  The liedburg shuddered, each stone seeming to glow in the twilight. Then, a long and low rumble of thunder, nearly subsonic, shook the air, and the liedburg towers shivered. Streaks of flame streamed from somewhere below the gray clouds that darkened as Anna watched.

  For long moments, the entire liedburg was ringed with fire—or so it seemed. Then screams echoed from the open courtyards and from the space to the north of the open gates.

  Another shudder of the ground was followed by silence.

  Anna leaned against the stones of the parapet, half-stunned, exhausted, doubting that she could sing another spell. She could barely hang on to the lutar and her breath rasped hoarsely through her throat.

  After a time, she peered into the twilit gloom and the courtyard below where figures still moved. But the yells and the clangor of metal on metal had ceased, as had the awful screams of men being flayed alive by fire.

  Jecks stepped out onto the tower.

  Anna turned.

  “You have destroyed them all, my lady.” Jecks had sheathed his blade. “Himar sent a messenger. Even Lord Dannel and his sons fell under your fire whips.” He paused. “Young Giellum fell defending us.” Jecks’ eyes flickered to Jimbob.

  Anna understood. Giellum had died protecting Jimbob. She nodded dumbly. Lord … all this because I blocked Dannel’s son from taking Lysara as a consort? After a moment, she straightened and made her way down the stone steps of the tower—carefully. It wouldn’t do to trip and break her arm or neck after surviving an attack on the liedburg.

  In the upper main corridor, the guards—as well as Kinor, Jimbob, and Jecks—formed almost a phalanx around her as she walked toward the steps that would take her down to the lowest level.

  “Lady Anna!”

  The sorceress looked down the dim corridor—the candles in the wall sconces had never been lit that evening, understandably.

  A small red-haired figure ran down the corridor, dodging the dead bodies and then throwing her arms around Anna. “You’re safe! Oh, Lady Anna.” Abruptly, Secca stepped back and straightened, looking up at the sorceress.

  Behind Secca, three other young women appeared, striding briskly toward the Regent—Alseta, Cataryzna, and Ytrude. All held bared blades.

&
nbsp; Secca addressed Anna. “Resor … Cens … Tiersen … they fought, but there were so many.”

  Anna wanted to hold Secca, but she could sense that the little redhead wanted to look strong. So the Regent looked at the three young women still holding shortswords. Ytrude’s blade was streaked with blood. “How are they? Resor and Cens and Tiersen, I mean?”

  Ytrude smiled crookedly. “Tiersen had gone to the stables. He fought his way back. He has not a scratch.”

  “Cens … Liende is treating him with your elixir … and Barat as well,” replied Cataryzna. The blonde’s eyes were cold, carrying a bottled rage, Anna suspected, something beyond the attack, but what that might have been Anna had no idea. “Lysara—they tried to attack her.”

  Anna turned cold. “Where is she? Is she all right?”

  “She was as good with a blade as Cens, and Liende used the last of the elixir for her. Tiersen—he is standing guard.”

  Sorcery-distilled alcohol, and it’s an elixir, as magic as your sorcery in this land. “How is she?”

  “Lysara may recover, as may Barat and Cens.” Ytrude paused and swallowed. “Resor put himself first, and for that Lysara and Secca are alive.” The tall blonde looked at the blade she held, almost as if surprised that she still carried it.

  “Resor is dead?”

  “Yes, Lady Anna.”

  Anna tightened her lips.

  “Barat was wounded as well … he joined the fosterlings holding the south tower. None of the armsmen could reach us.” Ytrude looked down at Secca, then back at the sorceress-Regent. “They were almost overwhelmed. So we picked up blades.”

  Anna glanced at the streak of red on the brown-eyed blonde’s sleeve. “What about your arm?”

  “A long scratch. Liende cleaned it and coated it with your elixir.”

  Cataryzna looked at Anna, a question in her eyes. Anna smiled. “Undercaptain Skent is holding the lands of Pamr. He did not return with us.”