Part 57 (1/2)
A serving girl appeared and scurried off with the empty basket.
”How came you to serve the regent?” asked Birfels; looking at Hanfor.
The veteran smiled pleasantly. ”I was serving as one of the Prophet's overcaptains...”
Anna took another helping of the sauce and meat and another ladle of the spiced steamed apples, letting Hanfor weave his tale. The less she said the better...definitely the better.
70.
DUMARIA, DUMAR.
I would have you read this.” Ehara's ba.s.s voice emphasizes the last word as he hands the scroll to the Sea-Marshal in white. He continues to sit upright in the chair behind the writing desk, ignoring the small pieces of green wax that litter the polished wood.
'She is angry,” jerRestin says. ”So much the better.”
”She is angry? I cannot believe that she would demand a thousand golds and my pledge.” Ehara's eyes fix on the Sturinnese officer. ”Never have I been so insulted.”
”She wishes you to be insulted, to he angry.” JerRestin laughs. ”And she has succeeded.”
”A thousand golds?”
”Lord Ehara, why do you not request two thousand from her? Tell her that the unrest created by her inability to govern has cost you dearly. Suggest that she is in a poor position to demand anything of Dumar.”
”I would not give her the satisfaction....”
”What does it cost you to ask of her what is your due- both in terms of golds and of honor?”
”1 should lower myself...” Ehara shakes his head.
”She is a woman and an outsider. She cannot be expected to understand such. The Maitre understands that different standards must be applied to women-lower standards.” JerRestin extends the scroll. ”You must do what you must do.”
”You make it sound as though I must respond to her ... her presumptions.” Ehara stands and takes back the scroll, looking down at the Sturinnese.
”She is like a willful child. She may be powerful, but she knows nothing of how the world works. If someone does not educate her...”
”I should educate her?”
”You would not wish the Maitre to speak for Dumar, would you? Or the Liedfuhr of Mansuur?”
Ehara shakes his head. ”You twist words as well as the slippery women of the south.”
JerRestin's eyes glitter, but he remains silent.
”Since I must, I will respond, but for my pains, she must pay three thousand golds.” The Lord of Dumar sets the scroll on the writing desk.
71.
Anna looked out the window from the bedchamber through the gray early-morning mist-wondering why she had awakened so early. She'd never been a true early bird, no matter how many early-morning cla.s.ses she'd had to teach over the years.
To the west, she could see the trees on the bluff that overlooked the effective beginning of the great Chasm, although, from what she'd seen, the river had cut out a valley that extended another ten deks back to the northeast from Abenfel. She'd meant to take a ride to see the Chasm, but somehow, various things kept intruding, including the continual arrival of scrolls from Falcor and Synor. Herstat, Dythya, and Menares were well-organized ... but their organization and unwillingness to act unless they had clear directions from her was taking more time than ever she would have believed.
That wasn't why she'd awakened early.
Was it Ehara? There had been no answer from the Lord of Dumar, but Anna already half suspected that she'd either get no response-or one that was impossible. While she worried about what she could-or should-do, whatever had wakened her didn't feel like that.
She turned and studied the bedchamber again. The door bolt was firmly shut. While she could hear noises through the window, they seemed like normal keep noises.
What else could it be? Were even more sorcerers looking for her? How would she know?
That... that she could determine.
She took out the lutar and walked into the chamber with the reflecting pool, and softly ran through one vocalise, then another, coughing and crackling, and slowly clearing her throat. Lord, she hated trying to sing in the morning. But she probably wouldn't get that much time later.
Finally, she stood before the pool, as the gray light outside began to turn faint gold.
”Of those with power of the song seek those who'd do me wrong and show them in this silver cast and make that vision well last.”
Anna took more time to study the three images in the gla.s.s-the blonde woman seer from Nordwei, the hawk-faced Sea-Priest, and the young black-bearded man.
In the light of dawn, the Sea-Priest stood under a spreading green tree, before a wide, parklike expanse of lawn. Beside him stood another man in the white of Sturinn. The other man gestured vaguely in a direction Anna couldn't discern from the scene. The younger man-not the sorcerer-looked hurriedly toward a building in the background. The Sea-Priest smiled indulgently.
The black-bearded young sorcerer stood in a darkened room where only his face and that of another young man were fully clear. The other man seemed to be standing before what Anna thought was a drum set-a drum set in Liedwahr? But no details appeared.
Anna released the spell and stepped over to the table, seating herself and taking out paper and greasemarker. Before long, she tried again.
”Silver water 'tween the stone, show me, and me alone, that sorcerer in black and brown and in what land he may be found...”
The gla.s.s showed something from the air. Anna squinted at the image. Three rivers converging into one?
The Fal, the Chean. and the Synor all turned into the Faiche-another sorcerer in Defalk?
After a moment, she released the spell and worried her lower lip. Then she returned to the table. It took longer the third time.
”Silver water 'tween the stone, show me, and me alone, that sorcerer in black and brown and in what town he may be found...”
The pool obediently showed another aerial image that could have been one of a dozen towns-or more.
Two main roads, buildings in the center, becoming farther apart away from the center of the silver- shrouded image, but with nothing that Anna could recognize as a distinguis.h.i.+ng feature.