Part 66 (1/2)
”That would take some spell.” Anna said with a laugh.
”You are a mighty sorceress.”
”Look where that's gotten me-on a muddy road on the way to a battle I wanted to avoid.”
”As you wish; lady.”
Anna wanted to sigh. Jecks might be white-haired, but sometimes he was worse than a little boy. Then, some times all men were. And women aren't like little girls at times? She shook her head. ”Let me think about it. Maybe... maybe, I can think up something.”
”That is all I ask.”
She wanted to sigh again, hut she forced a smile. ”I hope the road dries more as we get toward Stromwer.”
”It will be damp until the other side of the crests of the Sudbergs,” predicted Jecks.
Great. Mud and a semi-patronizing yet concerned lord. Anna patted Farinelli.
92.
NORTHEAST OF.
DUMARIA, DUMAR.
The shadow of a puffy white cloud pa.s.ses over the road, and sunlight pours down on the long column once more. In the middle of the vanguard ride Ehara and jerRestin. The white uniform of the Sea-Priest appears grayish from the road dust.
”You say we need to reach the Vale of Cuetayl a day before she does.” Ehara glances toward the hills that, more than a dozen deks ahead, rise out of the flat plains. Behind the hills are the spired peaks of the Sudbergs, hazy in the distance and heat.
”At least a day. Two days would be better,” answers jerRestin, s.h.i.+fting his weight in the saddle once more. ”We need some time to set up the attack. The terrain there will be suitable.”
”Have you been there?” Ehara touches the dark black beard and frowns. ”How do you know?”
”Maps,” says jerRestin with a laugh. ”Sailors need good maps, and we are quite good at making them for any sea or land that interests us.”
”And Dumar interests you?”
”All of Liedwafir interests the Maitre,” replies jerRestin offhandedly. ”Surely, you know that by now, would-be Viceroy of Dumar and Defalk.”
”I vaguely remember something about that.” Ehara forces a smile. ”Especially the viceroy part.”
”I thought you might.” JerRestin s.h.i.+fts his weight in the saddle again. ”1 prefer s.h.i.+ps to horses, but one does what is needed.” A hard smile goes toward Ehara.
The Lord of Dumar ignores the smile. ”How will you ensure that the b.i.t.c.h dies?”
”If she has no warning and cannot see what flies toward her, then she will die,” answers jerRestin. ”That is why where we set our attack is important, and why each company must be separated from the others and under rock overhangs where possible. The streams should help as well.”
”You think running water will stop her, after what she did to the Falche?”
”Hamper, not stop,” corrects jerRestin amiably.
Behind the two leaders, the armsmen in pale brown, lancers with crimson sashes, ride stolidly and silently. Behind them are the two thousand lancers from Sturinn who survived the flood. Their faces are simultaneously blank and grim.
Even the hum of insects and the calls of the plains sparrows and dusky finches is low in the midday heat.
Another cloud blocks the sun, and a shadow drifts across the road, then scuds eastward.
93.
As the lead scouts of the column emerged from the last of the redstone walls of the canyon, Anna glanced ahead, southward to the ramparts of Stromwer, and toward the sloped, gla.s.s-smooth wall of stone before the keep that blocked the southern end of the valley.
The low, rolling hills were mostly green, and Anna could see scattered figures, and sheep, in places. The low hum of insects, the heat, and the sweat soaking into the band of her hat affirmed that summer had indeed arrived in southern Defalk.
Hanfor's scouts had already returned-confirming that Lady Wendella expected and welcomed them. Not that Wendella had any choice, Anna reflected. The sorceress's trousers were encrusted with reddish mud, although the rain had not fallen quite so heavily farther south-or the sun had been hotter and dried the road more.
”A good thing that you did not have to a.s.sault Stromwer,” Jecks voiced.
”A very good thing, for everyone,” added Hanfor.
”You mean because we'll be stronger to fight Ehara?”
The two did not answer immediately because a scout appeared on the road ahead, coming over a low rise and riding a slow canter toward them.
”Now what?” murmured the sorceress to herself. She licked her dry lips and readjusted the floppy brown hat.
”Another rider, a messenger,” the scout said tersely, beginning to speak even before he swung his mount alongside Hanfor. ”He wears crimson and rides alone.”
Anna wanted to sigh. She didn't have any illusions about the contents of whatever messdge Ehara had dispatched.
”It is not a good message,” observed Jecks.
”A declaration of war?” suggested Anna. ”Or a demand for our surrender?”
”From what you have laid on Dumar, it could be nothing else,” said Hinfor.
Anna still wanted to sigh. No matter what she did, it seemed to lead to some form of fight or skirmish. If she obliterated someone, that was force. If she didn't, that was weakness, and weakness meant that she had to use force later. If she used indirect force, such as damming a river, that was an insult or created the idea that the ruler involved was weak, and that meant he had to fight. Even the direct force of a flood- however unplanned-didn't seem to get the point across-only blood and slaughter seemed to do that.
Idiots! Idiots... everywhere.
The messenger' a mount trotted along the damp red clay of the road toward the head of the column. The bareheaded rider reined up a good fifty yards south, and extended his hands-empty--and then lowered them and waited. His lance-holder held the staff of the pale blue pennant of harmony, the sign of traveling under truce, though the pennant itself hung limply in the still summer air.
Fhurgen eased his mount forward of Anna, as did Rickel. Both raised the protective s.h.i.+elds slightly, and both had drawn their blades. Beside Anna, Jecks also bore an unsheathed blade.
”Halt here,” said Hanfor quietly.
The column stopped more than twenty yards north of the waiting messenger in crimson, who leaned forward slightly in the saddle, the mounted equivalent of a bow. ”I offer this from Lord Ehara to the lady Anna, Regent of Defalk.”