Part 79 (2/2)
”Why?” Anna asked. ”All that would do would be to make people mad and wanting to hate Defalk more, especially later. Some already hate me for the flood, but that was your consort's fault, not that any good Dumaran would wish to believe that.” She took a deep breath. ”If I killed you all, then I'd have to figure out how to govern Dumar, and I'd be spending more time here than in Falcor. It's your land. You can run it. You just have to be loyal to Defalk, and since we don't really want a war, and you can't...” Anna laughed, not quite harshly. ”...Why, things should work out.”
'How can you trust...?” asked Siobion.
”I can raise enough of a flood to make the last one look like an afternoon rainstorm. Do you want all your main towns and cities washed away again?”
Siobion looked down. ”You will not live forever.”
”No. I won't. But I hope by then everyone will figure out that peace is easier. . . and more profitable.”
Siobion frowned. ”Do you think to stop the Sea-Priests?”
”I don't have to,” Anna pointed out ”You do.”
Siobion paled. ”You are cruel.”
”I'll help, as I can. But would you rather spend the rest of your life in chains, the way the Sturinnese women do?” asked Anna.
”You... leave few choices.”
”Your consort left me none,” Anna said quietly. Did you really have to invade Dumar... or are you ration- alizing again? ”Not if Defalk were to remain independent for long.”
Jecks nodded at Anna, and she realized she'd said enough, possibly more than enough.
The sorceress stood. ”You may go.”
”By your leave, Regent?” asked Siobion. Her hand touched Clehar' s shoulder.
”By your leave?” echoed the dark-haired Clehar.
Anna nodded, watching as the two walked to the study door, opened it, and slipped from sight.
”Did I say too much?” the sorceress asked once Fhurgen again closed the door firmly.
”I would not say such. There was no need to say more.”
”I'm becoming such a b.i.t.c.h,” Anna mused. '1 don't like it.”
”As you said, my lady, the harmonies have left you little choice. As you also made most clear to me...”
Jecks' voice was warm, sympathetic, and Anna wished- for a moment-that he would just hold her. Not long before, she'd wanted to clout him. Would it always be like that?
”d.a.m.n... dissonantly little,” she agreed. ”Tomorrow, we'd better start after Ehara. The mirror says he's moving slowly, but it'll still take nearly a week to catch him. I just want this to be over.”
Jecks frowned momentarily.
”Are you saying it won't ever be over?”
”I had thought to enjoy my lands once Alasia consorted with Barjim.” Jecks offered a wry smile. ”Now I accompany a warrior sorceress and consider myself lucky to have survived.”
”I've never been that angry at you.” Anna said with a grin.
”There have been times...” Jecks' voice was ironically rueful.
They laughed, and Anna enjoyed the laughter, pus.h.i.+ng away thoughts of the morrow... and those to follow.
114.
Another hot and sweaty afternoon on the road in Dumar, and Anna wondered why she'd even bothered to get her riding clothes clean in Dumaria. Two days on the road in the humid summer air of Dumar, and one of her two sets of trousers and s.h.i.+rts a1ready smelled like she'd spent weeks in it.
The Envar River, smaller even than the Chean in Defalk east of Sorprat, where Anna had yet to rebuild the ford, lay on the south side of the road from Dumaria to Envaryl. The ever-present sheep kept the brush low, and only scattered trees dotted the water course. The land was almost flat, with the stretched-out hills no more than a few yards higher than the river bed. Even to the northwest, where Envaryl lay three more days over the horizon at the base of the southern Mittfels, according to both maps and gla.s.s, the land extended in the same featureless flat plain to the horizon.
Anna leaned forward in the saddle and patted Farinelli on the shoulder. ”You're a good fellow.”
The gelding continued at an even pace, as if to indicate that, of course, he was, and there was no point in acknowledging such fatuous praise.
The road contained the hoofprints of Ehara's fleeing forces, the only evidence of life along the road, except in the towns, with their boarded doors and shuttered windows.
”What would happen if Ehara escaped us and returned?” she asked. ”Would people follow him as read- ily?”
”No” said Jecks, ”but it would be better that he- and the heir with him-not escape. Fewer still would cross you.”
”Oh? The sorceress who never relents? Who will destroy every hostile armsman in order to enslave an entire land?”
Jecks laughed. ”Can you imagine a better reputation in Liedwahr? Do you think Sargol would have spumed your rule had he seen what you have done?”
”Probably not,” the sorceress admitted. ”But it's force again. Not reason, not intelligence, just force.”
”Since when has it been otherwise, my lady?” Jecks offered both a smile and raised eyebrows.
Anna couldn't offer any reb.u.t.tal to what was clearly a rhetorical question-either in Liedwahr or on earth. ”You're right, but I don't have to like it. I can try to change it.” How? By using more force through sorcery? Her own self-inquiries reminded her that she still had to deal with her conscience, and the nagging questions it prompted.
”Am 1 relying on sorcery so much that when we leave Dumar no one will even consider remaining loyal?”
”Once ... once.” Jecks pulled at his chin. ”Once I might have thought that. Now. . . thousands of the finest armsmen of Sturinn and Dumar lie dead. Now ... much of Dumaria and all of Narial lie in ruins. A huge stone bridge spans the Faiche, one that would doubtless withstand even another flood you sent forth.
The Lord of Dumar flees you, and all have seen your armsmen. And no armsmen remain where you have been, save as are loyal to you.”
”At least in name,” she added.
”I doubt that many will forget you.” He smiled, half sadly. ”Or cross you.”
”But Jimbob will have problems?”
”Each generation must solve its own. You have given him the chance.”
Anna's eyes went to the gray dek-stone on the right shoulder of the road, its lower part obscured by gra.s.s.
<script>