Part 78 (2/2)
”...hard . . . her face be...”
Anna nodded at Alvar. ”Send armsmen after them.”
A dozen men dismounted at signal from the overcaptain, blades drawn, stepping past the innkeeper and into the, building.
Anna waited as the muted sounds of boots-and yells- sifted onto the street. Perspiration oozed down her neck.
Rickel s.h.i.+fted the heavy s.h.i.+eld. Jecks checked his bare blade yet again.
Abruptly, two men in nondescript leathers walked out- dejectedly, heads down. Behind them came four armsmen, blades still bare and ready.
More m.u.f.fled sounds preceded the third man-ginger-bearded, from whose slashed cheek blood streamed as he was half carried, half dragged from the building. Despite another wound, evidenced by the dark stains across his s.h.i.+n, the wounded man struggled violently in the grip of the two armsmen.
A third armsman followed, holding an arm as if to staunch blood from a slash to the biceps.
'Frig. . . your sorceress.. . Frig all you yelled the wounded prisoner as the two armsmen frog-marched him into the Street. ”Frig... you woman-loving sisters ...Frig you all...”
”So you will not swear allegiance to the Regency of Defalk?” Anna asked loudly.
”Frig you!” The man spat toward Anna.
Alvar raised his hand.
”No.” Anna dreaded what came next. ”When I start to sing, release him. If he tries to attack you, you may do as you please.” She lifted the lutar, coughed once, and began to sing and play.
”Armsman strong, armsman wrong, who would not swear in heart along, be cloaked in flame, and fire song, be flayed by fire before this throng.”.
The two armsmen holding the wounded prisoner literally hurled the man to the cobblestones, and had their blades out before he sprawled on the hard surface. The man struggled to his knees before the whips of fire began to lash him.
Standing by the door, the innkeeper turned and retched in the general direction of the open sewer.
As the fire died away, Anna swallowed hard as she looked at the heap of charcoaled meat and ashes, smelling the odor of burning flesh. She turned in the saddle to the other two armsmen. ”As I found you now, should you ever turn against Defalk, you can be found again.” She waited. ”Do you swear allegiance-”
Even before she had finished, both men were on the cobblestones, on their knees, mumbling, ”We swear by all the harmonies, by anything you wish.”
”We accept your allegiance.” She turned to Alvar. ”Have them taken to the palace and sworn into that special guard Hanfor is forming.”
The special guard was designed to patrol areas, such as the port, where, hopefully, they would reduce theft...and could be watched, halfway. You hope....
The whispers from behind shutters rose momentarily.
”...see why...”
”... wouldn't want to cross her...”
”... glad she's leaving us alone...”
Anna hoped all those ideas reached throughout the people. She turned to Liende. ”We'll need the seeking spell again.”
”Here?”
”Why not?” The basic theory of Clearsong was known to everyone. It wasn't the idea that was difficult- just the execution. At that thought, her eyes went to the charcoaled body.
”The body?” asked Alvar.
Anna steeled herself and said forcefully, so that her voice would carry, 'Leave it. Leave it so all know the price of disloyalty.”
”Yes, Regent.” Alvar squared his shoulders,, then shouted, ”Leave this carrion so all will know the price for disloyalty.”
”The seeking spell,” Anna repeated, looking toward Liende.
”Yes. Regent.”
Anna turned in the saddle, but Jecks already was unfastening the traveling mirror.
Another spell. . . another hiding armsman, or deserter- or fanatic. She hoped there weren't too many of the latter. With a deep breath, a calm smile plastered on her face, she waited.
113.
After laying her spell file on the antique writing desk and setting the lutar on top of the shorter bookcase, Anna paused and glanced in the wall mirror of Ehara's' private study, which she'd commandeered as a conference and workroom.
Despite a bath, a good night's sleep, and an enormous breakfast of eggs, fried ham slabs, cheese and bread, the woman who looked back at her hardly looked feminine at all. An angular and thin face, hard blue eyes, tanned skin rougher than was fas.h.i.+onable anywhere, and a firmly set jaw. Even the short blonde hair could have pa.s.sed for masculine.
She shook her head, and her reflection did also. After another look at the reflection she found bard to believe, she turned, walked past the low bookcases, and sank into the chair behind the desk, waiting for Jecks to join her. She remained tired.
Nearly a dozen seeking spells had dragged her and half the armsmen all over Dumaria the afternoon before-and they'd discovered a score of armsmen-half of whom were wounded. Three had tried to attack...one way or another, and there were three charcoaled bodies lying in the streets of Dumaria. The others-shamefaced-had just pledged loyalty to Anna, and were being 'reeducated” toward greater loyalty to Defalk, along with being required to serve in the special armsmen-paid slightly more generously than the locals had been.
And that pay may bind them... maybe...
Even so, after the long ride to Dumaria, the spells had exhausted her, and wiped out the players. Liende had been staggering, and Delvor and Yuarl had collapsed halfway through the last spellsong. For now, Dumaria was officially loyal to Defalk, and the Regency.
Anna permitted herself a slight smile. Even if Ehara did elude her, even if something happened to her, the Lord of Dumar would find his capital city and much of northeastern Dumar subdued for years, and certainly wary of Defalk. Not for years... people here are as shortsighted as anywhere.
Anna ran her fingers across the slightly dusty surface of the dark wooden writing table. The mantel of the oil lamp was sooty, as though Ehara had spent many late nights in his study. Perhaps he had.
Slowly, she took out the spell file. She needed to work out in final form the ideas she had for destroying enchanted weapons. The spell probably had to be through composed, with no repeating words or music, and more complex.
The sorceress was finis.h.i.+ng the last lines when Jecks peered in the door.
”Come on in.” She slipped the spell into the folder. She'd need to work on that later ”You look more rested,” he said, sitting down in one of the straight-backed chairs set at an angle to the writing table.
”I couldn't have looked less rested than last night,” she pointed out. ”I'm still tired.”
”You essay making Dumar part of Defalk in weeks. For most rulers it would take years.”
”We don't have months or years. We may not even have weeks. Lord knows, I mean-the harmonies only know what's going on in Defalk.” She focused on him. ”We have been sending scrolls chronicling our great victories, haven't we?”
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