Part 78 (1/2)
Anna's voice, more rested, rose above the players.
”Find, find, any Dumaran close to here, any armsman bearing weapons hard and near...
Again, the mirror showed three men in gray-not crimson-gathered around a table. One looked over his shoulder, as if to a door.
Alvar studied the image, and Anna hoped his memory was good. Hanfor' s sketching might have been better, but the arms conunander was wrestling with other problems- such as how to divide their forces, and what was needed to keep a handle on Dumaria.
Alvar nodded, as did Jecks.
”Again,” Anna said. This time she used the second verse of the spell.
”Show the armsman in that exact place from outside from where we saw his face show the place both clear and bright, so we may find it in the light...”
The image in the mirror sparkled up from where it lay on the stones. The building that appeared in the gla.s.s seemed to slant, as if it had been pushed somehow sideways, and debris was piled against part of the front.
Flood damage, Anna suspected.
A signboard showing a black ram lay propped against the wall beside the open front door.
After a moment, Anna sang the release couplet, and then mounted Farinelli.
”Need you go?” asked Alvar.
”If I am not seen...” Anna shrugged. Again, she couldn't quite explain it, but all she had, really, was the threat of force, and the impression of invincibility-and hiding in the palace wasn't going to bolster that impression. Besides, the mirror spells earlier hadn't shown any immediate danger. That could mean there was so much that sorcery couldn't detect it, or that Dumaria was momentarily cowed.
Either way, she had to do something-quickly.
”We will wait while you find the way to the Black Ram.” Anna glanced down at Jecks, wearing what she thought of as battle leathers, then at Alvar. ”I'd bet it's close to the bottom of the hill the palace sits on and a bit toward the river.”
”I would not wager against that.” Alvar smiled and swung up into his saddle.
Jecks swept up the scrying gla.s.s and efficiently packed it back in its leathers, then began to strap it in the harness behind Anna's saddle. Farinelli sidestepped slightly.
”Easy... easy...” Anna glanced out toward the east. ”We'll want to surround the place. I'd rather not have to turn anyone into flame.” But you will if you have to...and you know you'll need an example or two. She pursed her lips momentarily, knowing, given human nature, and the macho nature of the men of Liedwahr, that she wouldn't have to create the example. Which is worse... their nature or your willingness to use it...?
As Alvar led off the company of armsmen, standing beside his mount, Jecks cleared his throat.
Anna turned in the saddle, realizing that she and Jecks were alone, alone in a circle of players and mounts that had given them a wide berth.
”You do not look forward to this day.” The older lord mounted. ”As you did not look forward to the last battie.”
”No. But we have to root out anything that may cause trouble for Alvar. We have to leave some armsmen, but I don't want to leave many.”
”Nor I.” Jecks smiled. ”Yet all you need armsmen for is to protect you. There will be no true battles; no blades against blades, shafts against shafts.”
”You think using sorcery is wrong?”
”Once I might have thought so.” The white-haired lord sbnigged, then patted the shoulder of his mount.
”Those who love the excitement and the smell of death and blood ...they will still claim a kingdom won by sorcery will not last ... because blood anchors a conquest.
”There has been enough blood to anchor this.” More than enough.
”They will claim that sorcery is ease, as though sweeping stones from a Vorkoffe board.” Jecks added quickly. ”I have seen otherwise, my lady, and you should know that.”
”Ease...” Anna wanted to laugh. How many weeks had she been prostrated? How many times had others tried to use sorcery against her? How many thousands had died?... Was there something about people that found weapons despicable if they didn't cause equal devastation and risk to both sides? Well . . . her own world hadn't exactly liked nuclear weapons....
”Let's see... once a battle's over, and the victor goes home, the dead remain. Once my sorcery's over, and we return to Defalk, the dead remain. Is there any differ-. ence?” Except that men who have strong arms and blades think that sorcery is unfair... that women should do the fair thing and fight with blades... and give away how much in size and strength and muscle ma.s.s? ”No...a spellsong war is as fair as any other kind of war.”
A frown crossed Jecks' face before be nodded. ”You would say no war is fair.”
”No war I've heard of.”
Alvar rode into the courtyard, a wry smile on his face. ”The Black Ram lies less than half a dek below us.”
Anna nodded toward Liende, then flicked the reins. She and Jecks rode almost shoulder to shoulder, behind Rickel and Fhurgen. Her guards did carry the s.h.i.+elds, and every one of ber personal guard rode with blades unsheathed as they descended the cobblestone road into Dumaria.
Below the hill the road narrowed, but ran straight eastward toward the Falche River. Farther ahead, where the street seemed to narrow in the distance, she could see whole buildings seemingly slumped into piles.
The road seemed empty, windows shuttered, but she wondered how recently the shutters had been closed.
A rank odor, of mud, and sewage, and worse, hung over the town. Anna knew who had caused that-or whose flood.
The Black Ram stood on a corner, the front door closed, the shutters on the timbered second-story windows closed.
”The Green Company is behind the inn,” Alvar said quietly. ”Your wishes, Regent?”
”I know it will be dangerous... but I'd like the three armsmen brought out.”
”It must be done.” Alvar turned.
Anna watched as the stocky overcaptain drew aside a group of armsmen, speaking quietly and gesturing toward the inn. Shortly, a dozen archers had their bows strung and arrows ready to nock.
Then a burly armsman stepped up to the barred door of the inn and pounded on the door. ”Open...in the name of the regent and sorceress.”
The door remained closed. Anna glanced up the street in the direction of the palace, but the street remained empty.
”Open... in the name of the regent and sorceress.
The burly armsman lifted his arm to hammer on the door a second time, when the door opened, and a bearded man peered out. He glanced at the ranks of armsmen, then shrugged, as if to cast himself to his fate.
”Stand aside. We seek three fleeing armsmen.
”Sers ... there be none.... I know.”
”They were here,” said Jecks.
Anna could sense the whispers from the inn and from the buildings around. She felt exposed, and she noted that Fhurgen had moved slightly back, setting the s.h.i.+eld as to protect her from behind ”The sorcess... at the Black Ram?”
”...looks more like a young beardless lord...”