Part 61 (2/2)
”Why tell me such?”
”Because I'm liable to be exhausted or asleep or not thinking well, and you won't be.” She forced a grin.
”As you say, Lady Anna.”
”Am I wrong?” she demanded, her eyes meeting his warm hazel ones.
”I think not” He paused. ”You are not as other women. You will not tell yourself that matters are other than they are. Defalk is fortunate in that, but I would not say that of you, lady.”
”d.a.m.ned-cursed-to be a realist?”
He shrugged sadly.
”The message will be here, tied in green ribbon.” Anna glanced at the empty goblet, then at the clouds through the narrow window, growing more golden by the moment: She could have used more wine.
Before long, being regent would turn her into a full-blown alcoholic.
”There's a banquet tonight,” Jecks offered.
Anna groaned. ”I'm supposed to be entertained, and entertaining?”
”I believe that is what Lady Fylena said.”
”Then you don't get to leave before I do.” Anna offered a smile.
”Your wish in that is my command.”
''You are still most careful, Lord Jecks.”
”With sorceresses, and regents, that is wise.' He kept a blank expression, but the hazel eyes twinkled, and Anna wished for a moment that she were neither regent nor sorceress.
80.
WEI, NORDWEI.
Ashtaar turns in her chair to view the harbor through the open window. In the late twilight, the sound of insects hums upward from the trees below the Council building. To the north, points of yellowed orange flicker into being as the larger lamps on the harbor piers are lit. The darkness undotted by lamps denotes the river Nord and Vereisen Bay beyond.
At the knock on the door, the spymistress turns; returning her thoughts to the room illuminated softly by the wall-hung bra.s.s luminaries. Behind the spotless crystal mantels, the lamp flames scarcely flicker, but they are bright enough that her dark hair glistens in their light. ”Yes?”
”You requested my presence, honored Ashtaar?” Gretslen bows as she steps inside and closes the dark- stained wooden door behind her. The lamplight turns her blonde hair into a faint cloud in the dim room.
”I did.” The darker woman gestures to the chair before her desk. ”You have reported that the sorceress now holds all of Defalk?”
Gretslen brushes a lock of short blonde hair off her forehead. ”She has subdued all the rebels without de- stroying their keeps or all heirs, except in the case of Synfal. That she turned over to the heir to Defalk itself, Lard Jimbob.”
”She did not raze Stromwer?”
Ashtaar purses her lips, and her fingers slip around the black agate oval, blacker even than her hair. ”She has the loyalty of all Defalk, and yet she neither presses into Dumar nor returns to Falcor.”
”She guests with Lord Birfels of Abenfel. She and her forces are his invited guests,” Gretslen confirms.
”And the Sea-Priests remain in Dumar? Can you determine why?”
”No, honored Ashtaar, save that their Sea-Marshal spends much time with Lord Ehara, who does not seem overly pleased.”
”Would you be pleased?” Ashtaar laughs..' 'He has the Liedfuhr to the west, the sorceress to the north, and the Sturinnese fleet in his harbor. He has been providing aid to the rebel lords of Defalk. and the sorceress knows that. Would you be in his seat?” Gretslen shakes her head.
”The worst is yet to come,” predicts the spymistress.
”Ehara is trapped between the Sturinnese, who will do anything to gain a foothold in Liedwahr and to destroy a powerful female ruler, and the sorceress. She will destroy them-and much of Liedwahr-if she must in order to keep the gilded chains of Sturinn from enslaving the women of Dumar and Defalk.”
Ashtaar offers a cruel smile. ”She does not know that, but she will.”
”And what of us?” asks Gretslen.
”We are worse, dear seer. We told her about the chains, and we will let her use her full powers, come what may.” Ashtaar' s fingers tighten around the black agate before she forces them to relax.
81.
Anna glanced to her right at the mist rising out of the gorge and above the trees and brush that blocked her direct view of the canyon and the river. Her eyes went to the damp clay of the trail that led to the narrows where she would try to create her dam. In the leather folder behind her saddle were her drawings, based on everything she could remember, and the elabbrate three-stanza spell. Elaborate strophic, h.o.m.ophonic spell...
She hoped she wouldn't need it, and that she could concentrate, on the drawing and the concept of the dam, but the words and melody notations were there if necessary. She felt tired, and she hadn't even done any spellcasting. Then, most of the fatigue was probably from mental conflict. She didn't like what she was planning, but she had to do something, besides waiting, and anything else she or Jecks or anyone else had thought up was worse-except doing nothing. And within a short time, that would result in even more dire consequences.
The lutar that accompanied her everywhere away from whatever keep she inhabited was also fastened behind the saddle. Jecks rode silently to her right, drawn into himself, and probably fighting the same internal conflicts. Anna snorted. He was probably wondering how they'd ended up saddled with a temperamental sorceress who didn't want a return to the good old days. Women thinking? Openly questioning men? Or running holdings? What had Erde come to?
As she pursed her lips, moistening them, she leaned forward and patted Farinelli, getting the faintest of whuffs from the gelding. Ahead of her rode Rickel and Fhurgen, and behind Anna, Hanfor and Lord Birfels. After the veteran and the lord rode Lejun and then the regent's players, followed by the Purple Company.
The players were silent, even Delvor, the struggling violinist, and Duralt, the c.o.c.ky falk-hom player who was too often full of himself. Anna missed Daffyd. For all of his puppy-dog hurt looks, for all that his misconstrued spell had dragged Anna to Defalk, he'd been a good player and leader and had stood up for what he believed in-and for Anna-and he'd died at Vult doing it.
”Lady Anna...?” Birke's voice almost broke-the problems of adolescent growth-as he edged his mount nearer to hers.
She turned her head, eastward, left, and let the rising sun warm her full face. ”Yes, Birke.”
”What... what will happen...after...”
”After the sorcery?” That is a d.a.m.ned good question. ”There will be a dam, and a large lake behind it.
When the water reaches the spillway-that's a lower place in the dam-it will flow over the dam, and then the river will continue.”
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