Darksong Rising

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  A serving girl filled Anna's goblet with a ruby liquid, then those of Jearle, Jecks, Livya, and Brellyt.

  "The Mylelot, that comes from the Guereck Valley-it is at least as good as the Neserean vintages from Ferantha." Jearle smiled again, revealing his teeth once more.

  Anna returned the smile and took a small sip, admitting to herself that the wine was good. Not great, but good, and certainly better than many she had tasted in Defalk. "Excellent, and far better than any I have tasted recently."

  "That is why I made sure we had an ample supply for your visit, honored Regent, and Lord High Counselor...."

  As Jearle talked, and Anna smiled, unbidden, Henry Higgins' words from My Fair Lady slipped into her mind... Oozing charm from every pore... he oiled his way across the floor... Was Jearle that bad? She wanted to nod.

  "Have you visited any other lords before coming to Denguic?" asked Jearle.

  "We have just come from Fussen, where we met Lord Ustal," Anna said. You hope the news won't upset him too much, but he'll find out sooner or Iater...

  "The succession, I imagine. Difficult situation, there, most difficult." Jearle took a modest swallow of the ruby wine, then gestured for Anna to serve herself from the platter heaped high with slabs of meat and held by a serving girl. "Our most tender lamb, lady."

  "Thank you." Anna took three slabs, sensing young Brellyt's eyes open as she did.

  "Have you any thoughts on the succession?" asked Jecks.

  "Ha... you jest, of course. A lord had best not comment on the affairs of his neighbor." Jearle laughed, and the sound was as oily as his words.

  "His sire was not known to have been the most accommodating of souls," Jecks pursued.

  "Accommodating, Lord Jecks? I don't know as I'd ever heard that word in the same sentence as Lord Viassa's name before." Jearle shrugged, still smiling. "They say the son is quite accomplished, in arms and elsewhere."

  "He presents a fine appearance," Anna said.

  "As did his sire, years back... but none of us present the appearance now as we did then... save for you, Regent. And you, the stories say, paid most dearly for your youth." Jearle paused, then added. "That is what one hears."

  "The Regent has taken more wounds than most," Jecks affirmed. "Two crossbow bolts, a knife, and possibly others I know not of'."

  "Lord Jecks is modest," Anna interjected. "My wounds came through... unfamiliarity. He has exhibited far greater bravery and skill."

  "Begging your pardon, Regent, but it is said that you took Dumar with but twentyscore lancers." Jearle raised his eyebrows.

  'That's about right. We started with fifteen, I think, and Lord Sargol and Lord Birfels offered some aid as well."

  "And how many armsmen did you face?" asked Brellyt. Anna tried to remember. "About five thousand... two hundred fifty-score... that's about how many we killed in battle." She didn't want to think too long about the innocents killed in the flooding or in the destruction of Envaryl.

  Brellyt's gulp was audible.

  "She destroyed almost five hundred-score of the Evult's lancers and armsmen," Jecks added.

  'The strongest ruler of Defalk in generations," Jearle observed, "and a regent." He laughed humorously. "Would we had had more such."

  Although Anna trusted the man less and less, she smiled and took another sip of wine, and another helping of the heavy, cheesed potatoes.

  "Have you any news on the new Prophet?" inquired Jearle. "Very little except that the Liedfuhr has sent fiftyscore Mansuuran lancers in his support," Anna answered politely.

  "The lord Behlem brought well over three hundred-score armsmen through the West Pass before you vanquished him. So thick they were that one could not see the road," Jearle said. "Far more lancers and armsmen there were than ever seen or gathered in Defalk."

  Anna understood where Jearle was taking the conversation, but only said, "There were so many that they could not be quartered within the liedburg at Falcor."

  "Yet the lady Anna vanquished them and their Prophet," Jecks pointed out, "and without assistance."

  "Ah, yes... sorcery, was it not?" Jearle beamed. "Most welcome indeed. And what a sight it was when they marched back, their packs and tails dragging." He smiled.

  "Many things are called sorcery," observed Jecks mildly. "At times, entire forces of armsmen have vanished, and there have been no sorcerers within deks. Other times, bridges have been built without masons."

  Livya's eyes clouded, and she coughed gently. "There are many tales about the Regent, and how she came from the mist worlds. Alas, we have never been privy to them, and if it would not be too wearisome to repeat that tale, Regent, I for one would be most pleased to hear it from the one who lived it" A warm smile crossed her face.

  Anna didn't trust Livya's smile any more than her consort's, and she had a good idea that the Lady of Westfort was more than either ornament or broodmare. Whether Jearle had gotten Jecks' point or not, the lady Livya certainly had. "If you don't mind hearing an old tale, I would be more than pleased to tell you....

  Anna launched into the tale of how she had come to Liedwahr, all too conscious of Jecks' eyes upon her as she spoke- and of the assessing speculation of both Jearle and Livya.

  19

  Lord Nelmor." Anna inclined her head, then took the armchair on one side of the table in the private study, so that Nelmor and Jecks would have to sit on the other side. Anna hoped that might give the Lord of Dubaria the impression, subconscious or otherwise, that he and Jecks were on the same side. The dark-paneled walls of the room reminded her vaguely of Jecks' study, although she recalled Jecks' study as being and smelling far cleaner.

  "You are most kind to visit Dubaria. I do not believe any from Falcor have come so far north and west since before the time of Donjim," replied Nelmor as he seated himself. "It may have been even longer."

  Jecks slipped into the other armchair slightly after Nelmor was settled.

  "We were persuaded to go to Fussen, and since we were there, we wished to show support for those who supported the Regency from the beginning." Anna smiled warmly. "We also wished to inform you about the successes and the challenges ahead."

  "I think I would hear of the successes," said Nelmor. "I face challenges enough each week."

  "So do we all," said Jecks.

  "We have managed to pay off the debts Lord Barjim ran up to the Ranuan Exchange," Anna began. "That should make it easier for the Thirty-three to trade there. We have repaired the ford on the Chean River to restore the road to Ebra. We have received the fealty of Lord Hadrenn of Synek..." Anna paused at the expression on Nelmor's face. "You had not heard that the western third of Ebra had asked to become part of Defalk?"

  Nelmor shook his head. "Ah... truthfully, no, my Regent."

  "The armsmaster of Dumar is our appointment, and we are expecting golds from Dumar by harvest time. Most of the dam ages of the Evult's flood have been repaired in Falcor, and if the weather holds..." Anna continued with every promising scrap she could remember, ending with,

  "...and many holdings are expecting far better crops than in recent years."

  "Better news than I have heard in many years." A sardonic smile crossed the tall lord's face. "And the news that is less promising?"

  "There is another war brewing in Ebra, between Lord Bertmynn of Dolov and the freewomen of Elahwa-"

  "Freewomen?"

  "The local women. They took the city and started to rebuild it after the flood. They have received blades from the South-Women of Ranuak," Anna explained. "Lord Bertmynn does not appear pleased."

  "Ah. . . that explains Lord Hadrenn's desires."

  "Better to have a third of Ebra behind us, than none at all in these times," suggested Jecks.

  Nelmor nodded slowly.

  "A number of the merchants and crafters in Fussen have petitioned the Regency to replace Lord Ustal with his younger twin brother," Anna said.

  "And what has the Regency decided, if this lord might ask?"

  "The R
egency does not feel," Anna said carefully, "that the Regency should act unless many lives are in danger or unless Defalk itself is in danger. Or unless a lord defies the Regency," she added. "None of those has happened."

  Nelmor pulled thoughtfully at his left earlobe. "Wise guidelines, I would say. Yet you seem less than pleased."

  "I think that there will be trouble unless things change," Anna said bluntly. "Lord Ustal is far too hard on his people and his crafters."

  "Lord Vlassa was said to be hard," Nelinor pointed out.

  Anna merely nodded.

  "Other troubles? Surely, Defalk faces more difficulties than those?"

  "Ebra seems to be the problem. The Sturinnese could be sending golds to Lord Bertmynn. They did to Lord Ehara, you might remember."

  "I had heard such."

  "There were twoscore ruined Sturinnese hulls in the bay at Narial," Jecks said mildly, "and some hundred and fifty-score Sturinnese lancers that Lady Anna destroyed."

  And one Lord Jecks was most unhappy about at the time, Anna recalled. She also remembered how she'd exploded at Jecks, and how they'd barely spoken for over a week.

  "You saw these?" asked Nelmor.

  "I did."

  "Lord Jecks was also wounded with an enchanted Sturinnese javelin," Anna pointed out. "That's why we're concerned about Sturinn sending golds to Bertmynn."

  "Has this yet occurred?"

  "Only in small amounts so far," Anna fudged.

  Nelmor nodded. "And what of the new young Prophet of Music-our nearest threat? Have you heard aught promising or less so?"

  "He has fiftyscore Mansuuran lancers to add to his arms-men," Anna replied, "and a regent who is an officer sent by his grandsire. Right now, he has sent some of his grandsire's arms-men to Elioch, but none of his own armsmen."

  "That bears watching, but it would be good if no other lancers near Elioch." After a silence, Nelmor asked, "How do you find Tiersen and Ytrude?"

  "They have not sent you scrolls?"

  "Alas, I have not sent a messenger. How would they? They would not have imposed upon you, your grace, and even had they, I would just have received such."

  "Ytrude seems to be settling in at Falcor," Anna observed. "She is shy, but she seems bright."

  "Bright she has always been." Nelmor cleared his throat. "And what of Tiersen?"

  "He seems thoughtful, but I have not had as much time to observe him."

  "You are like my sister, Lady Anna. And yet you are not." Nelmor shrugged.

  What that meant, Anna suspected, was that Gatrune was direct, and Nelmor thought Anna was, but that he was reluctant to admit anything, since he was a lord, and lords admitted nothing. At least, Defalkan lords of the old style didn't.

  "You were most supportive to send Tiersen to Falcor," Anna began slowly, "but he will learn more about those who will be his peers in years to come, before he must make decisions about them and their families. He has also begun to learn other skills."

  "It is said that you are instructing the fosterlings in another way in which to keep the accounts of their lands. Why would you find this necessary?" Nelmor's expression was that of a quizzical frown.

  "I have already learned, Lord Nelmor, that not all those who keep the accounts of their lords are as honest as they profess. The accounts and figures Dythya is teaching them will allow them to check those accounts quickly. This will give them greater control-and they will have to spend less time on accounts." She smiled. "That way, Tiersen can devote more time to those matters you feel are most important without leaving his fate in the hands of others."

  "And Lord Dannel has said that some who instruct them are lowborn," Nelmor added cautiously.

  "I was not born into a lordly family of Defalk." In fact they'd have called your grandparents peasants, since they worked a farm in an Appalachian holler. "Nor was Arms Commander Hanfor. Nor Tirsik the stablemaster. Yet we all do certain things better than others. I felt that your son and daughter should learn about the uses and limits of blades from the best and how stables should be run from a good stablemaster. Sometimes, the best instructor is a lord, such as Lord Jecks here. Sometimes, they are not."

  "Your words are wise, Regent, yet Lord Dannel is not pleased."

  "Lord Dannel is not pleased, Lord Nelmor, because his son is not as quick-witted nor as skilled in arms as his sire. He is not pleased because his son refuses to learn and blames it upon his instructors." Anna forced another smile. "As Arms Commander Hanfor has told me," she fibbed, "it is a poor lancer who blames his blade or his mount."

  Surprisingly, Nelmor laughed. "True. Has he not wit enough to find better mount or blade, or to use what he has, soon enough he will be dead." The laugh died away. "Yet Lord Dannel has suggested a match between Lord Birfels' eldest daughter and his youngest."

  "That match is not suitable." Anna looked straight at Nelmor. "Your son, or the son of another lord, would be far better. That is, if those involved like each other." Based on her past meetings with the proud lord, that was as much as she dared suggest to Nelmor, and the not-quite-direct approach would give him the opportunity to consider such a match without the impression of pressure.

  "Why should their likes matter?" asked Nelmor, his tone curious.

  "I did not say 'love,' my lord Nelmor," Anna pointed out. "But I have observed the poisoning of one lord by a consort who was ill suited and the abuse and treachery of another lord who refused to heed his consort. Defalk cannot afford that kind of scheming. I would prefer that matches have some acceptance by both parties." Her tone turned dry. "It is easier upon all the rest of us."

  A smile crossed Jecks' face, and after a moment, Nelmor chuckled. "You appear so young that sometimes I forget that you have seen far more than that lovely face displays."

  "You would not wish to have seen all she has seen," Jecks added ironically. "I've seen but a fraction of it, and I have little wish to see more."

  Nelmor glanced sideways, almost abruptly, then back at the Regent. "Lady Anna... there is one other matter. I would not trouble you... yet I must bring this up." A trace of a smile flitted around Nelmor's face, at odds with the seriousness of his words.

  "Yes?"

  "I hope you do not mind, but Lord Klestayr had prevailed upon me...and requested most urgently that he be allowed to join us for dinner...." Nelmor broke off and offered a shrug.

  "Just how urgently?" Anna kept a straight face and arched her eyebrows.

  "Urgently enough that he rode in not too far in advance of you, his mounts lathered."

  "The more at dinner the better, and I look forward to meeting Lord Klestayr under your most gracious hospitality." Anna almost wanted to gag at the syrup she'd put in her voice. "And I'm even more glad that we met before dinner."

  "I appreciate your informing me before others at table, and for your many courtesies, Regent Anna, and for yours as well, Lord High Counselor." Nelmor remained seated.

  Anna realized that she had to end the meeting, and stood. "You have always been most supportive, and we would not wish to have you surprised in any way." That's the last thing you need, especially with this touchy lord.

  The Lord of Dubaria waited for Jecks to rise before standing and speaking, "If you would like some air before supper, you might wish to view the side garden. It is Delyra's pride, and quite beautiful." Nelmor smiled.

  "We look forward to seeing it." Is that the royal "we," or are you including Jecks? Anna didn't like the idea of the royal "we," but was beginning to understand its necessity.

  Nelmor bowed again as the two left his private study.

  As Anna and Jecks stepped through the double doors into the small garden, perhaps twenty yards on a side, graced by what appeared to be a boxwood hedge surrounding a small fountain, Anna glanced at Jecks, handsome in his royal blue tunic. "We need a postal service." Among a good many other things.

  Behind them followed Blaz and Lejun, each with a hand upon his blade.

  "What sort of service might that be?" asked Jecks.
"You have few enough golds as it is."

  Anna took a deep breath as she walked slowly toward the hedge. She had as many problems dealing with Defalk that came from her own assumptions. How would people communicate? Scrolls from the lords-but only if they had something to say. "I think I have an idea. When we get back to Falcor, I'll draft a long scroll with all sorts of news in it. Big stuff and little stuff..." She glanced at Jecks, and could see the blank expression crossing his face. "You saw that Nelmor didn't know about Hadrenn or about the freewomen or even about what his own children were doing in Falcor?"

  "That is true"

  "So I draft one scroll. Each fosterling copies, say, five. We figure out how many lancers it will take to travel to each lord."

  "But that costs golds..."

  "Bear with me, my dear lord Jecks. Anyone who wants to send a scroll, including fosterlings-a one-sheet scroll-pays a silver to send a message to father and mother." She smiled. "Or anyone else. Anyone except the lord who wants to send a return message also pays a silver."

  She pulled at her earlobe. She'd always had little earlobes, and Brill's youth spell had done nothing to change that. "If I send out those scrolls two or three times a year... the lords will know more than they do now-and they'll hear some things the way I want them said. We might even get enough silvers to pay for it."

  Jecks fingered his chin. "Some would not trust such."

  "It doesn't matter. We tell the truth, and they'll hear it somewhere else. In time, they'll accept it. And some might also decide to send fosterlings to Falcor when they find out who else's offspring are there."

  Jecks langhed. "For that alone they might!"

  Anna enjoyed his laugh, and the moist and garden-fresh air in the early twilight, for the few moments before they faced the strain of yet another dinner with more skeptically inquisitive lords and consorts.

  20

  ENCORA, RANUAK

  A lone at the table, the Matriarch stands and smiles as the dark-haired and thin-faced woman enters the small hall.

  The newcomer wears a sea-blue tunic and trousers, the sole ornamentation being a gold pin on her collar. The fine gold wires of the pin represent two sheaves of grain, crossed. She bows, a movement barely more than perfunctory. "I am here at your request, Matriarch."