Part 9 (1/2)
”A woman lead player?” Liende's eyebrows arched.
”A woman regent?” Anna asked softly in return.
Liende smiled faintly.
”It is not just a favor,” Anna added. ”I will pay you for finding and organizing the Regent's Players.”
”Coin. . . and kindness. Neither can I afford to turn down, lady.”
”Two silvers a week to start. Three a week, and two golds bonus, if you can gather enough players for two groups.” Anna paused. ”And you don't play for battles. What I had in mind is several groups of players, if we can find or train enough. A group that will learn and perform the songs for building, another group for battle songs, perhaps a third for other functions.”
”I know much about building songs,” Liende said. ”Could I not lead such a group?”
”As long as you're not close to battles.”
”Lady ... the others would think ill-”
”It's not kindness, or favoritism.” Anna shook her head. ”I made a mistake with Daffyd, a terrible mistake. I should not have brought him with me to the battle with the Evult. I can teach singing, in time. I cannot teach players. I cannot make instruments, If anything happens to my lutar... who would replace it?”
Liende smiled. ”A strange sorceress you are. You hazard yourself, but would save others less valuable.
Yet... I will not protest. While Kinor is near grown. Alseta is but twelve and young for her years.”
”I did not know. They are welcome here, and you will have quarters large enough. Alseta and Kinor could join those being schooled.”
”To me, lady, that be worth as much as the coins.”
”Then you accept?”
”How could I refuse?” Liende smiled. ”Palian will join me, and I trust Kaseth will. Jaegel will not. He could not play under a woman.” She shrugged. ”You will see. I be no bargain.”
”I can help you with conducting,” Anna said. ”I already have many of the songs, both my own and some from Lord Brill. I can guide you, but I can't be a sorceress and a lead player at the same time.”
”You have led players before?”
”I've studied leading players, and I have led large groups of singers,” Anna admitted. Her conducting cla.s.ses were far behind her, but she doubted many in Liedwahr had had even that much training. She paused. ”Can you read Lord Brill's notations?”
”No. He kept those to himself. Most sorcerers do, I understand.”
Anna understood, but it was just something else to make her plans-and life-a little harder ”Oh,” She shook her head. ”There's one violino player I've found. He's barely adequate, but we don't seem to have much choice. His name is Delvor.”
”I do not know of him, but I will hear him.”
Anna reached for her belt wallet and extended a gold. ”This is to help get you and your family here.
Dythya is the accounts mistress, and she'll pay you and your players.”
”Dythya I know.”
Of course, Anna thought. After the battle of the Sand Pa.s.s, Liende had found refuge at Elhi. Lord Jecks'
holding.
Anna took out the quill pen, and carefully, most carefully, wrote out a short note to Dythya, explaining Liende' a commission, and pay, and that she would need two to three rooms in the players' quarters.
Both the ink and the brown paper ensured that the note would take time to dry. While it did. Anna pointed to the paper and added, ”This note-please give it to Dythya- it explains that you are the chief player and requests that she give you all possible a.s.sistance.” Anna paused. ”How soon can you start?”
”Why . . now, lady. Alseta and Kinor can travel here as they can from Elhi. Lord Jecks often sends a few arms-men and messengers.”
Anna nodded. ”Then get settled, and talk to Delvor and check his playing. Later this afternoon”-Anna fumbled as she tried to convert hours to local time- ”around the eighth gla.s.s, please come back with your horn, and we'll go over several of the spellsongs we'll be using. One or two you may know, but I want you to be familiar with the main ones.” Anna took a sip from the goblet, then continued. ”Can you send for Palian and any others? If you need a scribe, see if Dythya can help.”
Liende bowed her head slightly. ”You do not lag, my lady.”
”We'd better not.” Anna said. ”We have to be ready.” Exactly what she was readying Defalk for, was another question, but her intuition told her that it was necessary, and whenever she'd doubted that intuition, she'd found trouble and more trouble.
Anna waved the short note a last time in the air, and seeing that the ink had finally dried, stood and extended the paper to Liende. ”Until the eighth gla.s.s.”
”Thank you, Lady Anna.”
Anna paused, then said, ”Liende. I am not being short with you. I am not displeased. I am gratified that you are here. I am asking you to pardon me if I seem short, or if I do not spend more time being courteous and gracious. In time, I hope I will not feel so rushed. Now there is much to do, and I know so little.” And I'm still tired, d.a.m.ned tired A smile played across the thin lips of the player. ”Most rulers would not explain, but I thank you. Alseta will also be grateful.” She bowed again, then slipped out.
Anna still felt embarra.s.sed by the situation, but what else could she do?
She had yet to deal with a reflecting pool-and where to put it. The small room across the corridor? No one had been living there since the Neserean forces had left, and it was probably better not to guest strangers too close to her quarters.
Still, that would have to wait, since it would take sorcery, and she dared not try anything significant for a few days yet.
Why was everything so f.u.c.king difficult? She'd replaced one lousy bridge, and she'd been a basket case for over a week. Why? Why had the bridge been so hard? Had it been because she'd done Darksong with Wendella just before?
Anna just sat at the worktable, slowly chewing through a hard cracker, knowing she was stalling, almost not caring. She finished the cracker, then looked at the papers on the corner of the table.
Her nails clicked together, and she looked down; surprised that her old nervous habit had resurfaced.
Were things getting that bad?
11.
DUMARIA, DUMAR.
The broad-shouldered man in the gold-trimmed red tunic lifts the dagger, momentarily balancing it on his forefinger. ”It's not right,” he murmurs to himself before half turning to the window and the gray downpour outside. ”A gold, and it's not balanced right.”
The man in the gray cloak waits on the hard wooden chair.
The red-clad man leaves the window and sets the knife on the dark wooden writing table, beside the flickering oil lamp. He picks up the scroll once more and studies the words before setting it on the desk and letting it rewind itself. ”And why will your master not come himself, the honorable soul that he is?”