28.

ESARIA, NESEREA.

Rabyn slips into the light and airy workroom. Nubara folows. Both stand and study the three polished drums, each not quite as tall as is Rabyn. The floor has been swept spotlessly clean, and all the tools removed from the workbench and polished before having been set on the shelves adjoining the bench.

Beside each drum is a high stool, and a pair of wooden mallets is laid on the seat of each stool.

The gray-haired crafter bows. "They are finished, sire. As you requested.

Exactly as you requested."

"We will be the judge of that." Rabyn barely looks at the older man as he steps around him and stops by the first drum. His fingers stroke the polished wood, now so smooth that it reflects the dark-haired Prophet's image as if the drum were a mirror.

Nubara sees his own reflection beside that of the Prophet and smiles, belatedly."I saw that, Nubara," Rabyn says easily.

The crafter steps back involuntarily.

"Let us see how these sound." Rabyn takes the mallets from the stool of the drum closest to the workroom door, then seats himself on the stool. He taps the stretched hide that covers the drum frame. A low rolling boom fills the workroom. He nods and slips off the stool, replacing the mallets. After repeating the process with both of the remaining drums, Rabyn returns to the second drum and reseats himself on the stool with a sly, serpentlike smile.

Nubara frowns, his eyes going from the Prophet to the crafter, who remains standing by the workbench, his head bowed.

Lifting the mallets, the young Prophet tries one rhythm, then a second. Finally, after several other attempts, he nods to himself, and a driving and thundering, rolling beat fills the workroom. Rabyn begins a chant, not exactly a song, but more than a simple refrain, with a thin tenor that is clear and rises above the thunder of the ma.s.sive drum.

Heed, heed, heed, the beating of the drum; break, break, break the heart whose end has come...

The crafter's eyes widen and he swallows, then drops to his knees, clutching at his chest, gasping for air.

... turn, turn, the body into dust!

The rolling thunder that has filled the room dies away, and Rabyn carefully climbs down from the stool and replaces the mallets. "You will have the workbench and the woods removed, will you not, Nubara? And you will make sure that no one touches the drums."

"Ah... yes, honored Prophet" The Mansuuran officer licks his lips. "I... did not know you could do... such." He looks at the heap of dust on the workroom floor.

He swallows. "Did you not promise...?"

Rabyn laughs. "I promised to pay him well, and in gold. For his dislike of me, I have paid him. The golds will go to his ugly daughter, and she will be freed. So will her mother. You will tell them that he developed the b.l.o.o.d.y flux and a pox, and we had to burn his body. I promised him five golds. Give them ten... with great care."

"Yes, honored Prophet."

"Remember, Nubara, I am a ruler who keeps his promises." The serpentlike smile follows. "All of them." Rabyn strokes the side of the drum, lovingly. "A most wonderful drum, and it will do exactly as I wish."

Nubara looks down at the pale paving stones of the workroom floor, then lifts his eyes to the Prophet, meeting the younger man's glance evenly. "With drum and Darksong, best you be most careful of what you wish, Prophet"

"I always am sure of that, Nubara. Just like my mother was. Always."

29.

Anna slowed as she heard voices in the side corridor leading to the receiving room. She glanced back at Lejun and Rickel. The taller blond Rickel nodded and slowed.The Regent listened. A small high voice reached her ears- Secca's.

"... she's not like that. She worries about everyone. You just worry about you.

Lords can't do that. They have to worry about everyone."

Anna waited.

"You're too young to say things like that, Secca." The older youth's voice held a sneer. "You're being silly."

Anna wanted to slap Jimbob for the patronizing tone, but instead remained silent, waiting to see how Secca would handle the heir.

"You're like all boys. When someone's right, and you don't like it, you tell them they're silly. Or you hit them."

Anna couldn't help but grin.

"I do not," replied Jimbob.

"You would," Secca insisted. "You're afraid of Lady Anna and your grandsire."

There was silence in the corridor.

"A lot you know," Jimbob finally answered.

"You could be nicer. You should be if you want to be the lord like your father was."

"I'll be lord. It doesn't matter what you think."

"It matters what Lady Anna thinks, and if you don't get nicer, you'll never be lord."

"Nice people don't win battles," snapped Jimbob. "Lady Anna isn't always nice.

She's killed scores and scores of people. You just see her here in Falcor. It's different in battle. All the lancers say so."

Have you become two people... nice when it suits you and ruthless the rest of the time? Anna frowned. If you wanted to survive, did you have any choice?

"She's only nasty when people like you make her that way! I don't have to talk to you." The sound of small footsteps headed toward the corner.

Anna waited and let Secca run almost into her. "Secca! Where are you going in such a hurry?"

Secca stopped, and looked up. Her eyes were bright, but not tearing. "Lady Anna." She bowed. "I have to get my scrolls for figures. Dythya said we had to bring them every day."

Anna smiled. "Don't let Jimbob get to you. He's having trouble understanding that just because he's the heir doesn't mean that the rules are any different for him."

"He said... you weren't always nice."

Anna looked straight into the redhead's amber eyes. "Sometimes, I've had to do things that weren't what I wanted. You will, too. We all do the best we can.

When you can do something better-or nicer-and you don't, that's when you get in trouble." Like you have...Secca smiled shyly, then bowed again. "I should go, Lady Anna."

Anna watched as the redhead scurried down the corridor. Then she turned and headed toward the staircase. The receiving room was empty when she reached it, except for another pair of guards, Kerhor and Blaz-and the dark-haired Skent, who waited as the duty page.

"Skent? Would you see if Lord Jecks and Arms Commander Hanfor could meet with me shortly?"

"Yes, Lady Anna."

Once inside her de facto office, Anna sorted through the scrolls that represented what she needed to do, beginning with the last draft of her proposed "newsletter" scroll. After reading it and nodding, she set it aside for the copying she had to set up by the fosterlings. Before you go off anywhere.

Her thoughts drifted to young Fa.r.s.enn and his drums, and she shook her head before she finally picked the scroll that held the summary of accounts. She scanned Dythya's latest summary-not so bad as previously, not with the three thousand golds from the Liedfuhr and the four thousand from Dumar. Almost enough to do what you'd planned... Except that there were more needs-like forage for the gra.s.slands people, or what seemed like the tenth pet.i.tion for lower taxes on the merchants of Falcor, and the fifth for lower tariffs on the rivermen.

Then... she needed to do something about Secca's mother, the lady Anientta, who had probably poisoned her consort... and about the succession in Fussen ... or did she? You're becoming like all those bureaucrats on Earth... stalling because any decision is worse than none.

She took a deep breath and reached for the water pitcher. After filling her goblet and taking a deep swallow, she sharpened the quill and began to add to the list of tasks that she needed to address.

Anna was still adding to that list when Jecks and Hanfor arrived. She set aside the quill and waited until the two men were seated across the conference table from her. "I'm thinking of taking tenscore armsmen and going to Mencha... and if nothing happens while I'm there, going on into Ebra."

Hanfor nodded slowly. "You remain worried about the Sturinnese?"

"I'm worried about someone like Bertmynn. who'll accept Sturinnese coins." And having to pick up the pieces later, at a higher cost.

"What have you seen in your pool?" Jecks asked.

"Bertmynn is about to head downriver toward Elahwa, if he hasn't already. It looks like he wants to take over the city and port there."

"Would it not be wiser to wait. . . to see the results in Ebra?" questioned Hanfor. "Or do you wish to call a hundredscore levies now?"

Anna shook her head. "I don't think so. Calling the levies before Rabyn does anything will only reduce their useful time of service. We can't wait on Ebra, either. Dolov wasn't affected by my sorcery against the Evult. Synek was more than half-destroyed, and Elahwa was partly destroyed. The freewomen are trying to do something in Elahwa, and Bertmynn's against that. I'd like to stop him, or if I'm too late, attack him before he gets more arms and armsmen from Sturinn."

"You cannot defend all of Liedwahr," Hanfor said slowly.It does sound like that's what you're trying to do, doesn't it? Anna paused, then reached for the goblet. It was empty.

Jecks refilled it from the pitcher, then looked at Hanfor. The grizzled veteran nodded, and Jecks filled all three goblets.

"Let us say you are successful," Hanfor finally continued after a swallow from the goblet before him. "You destroy Lord Bertmynn. You are two weeks or more at a hard ride from Falcor. If the Nesereans attack? What would you have me do without levies?"

"I think we should call up some levies, preferably enough to make up a force for you to train... perhaps somewhere near Dubaria or Denguic. Not too many, though."

"And?"

"If we do so, then.. ' Anna paused, thinking, before concluding, "then Rabyn will have to move more armsmen to Elioch or the West Pa.s.s, and that will take time."

"You still may not return that quickly," Jecks pointed out. "What would you have your arms commander do if the Nesereans do cross into Defalk?"

"Defend Defalk." Hanfor offered a half smile. "Preferably with some effect."

"If you can manage it, Hanfor, have Rabyn attack Fussen," Anna said dryly. "And put Lord Ustal in charge of an attack on their center... or wherever, If that doesn't work, try to slow them down without losing too many levies. Give up territory rather than men. We can get the territory back, but not the armsmen."

Jecks laughed. 'That will not make your western lords pleased."

Nothing will please them except the world not changing. "It may not come to that." Except it will, because most men in Liedwahr instinctively believe that over time no woman can keep defeating men.

"I think I will draw up plans for a retreat through Fussen." Hanfor's lips quirked. "I doubt not that you will succeed in Ebra, but success takes time."

"I leave the details to you," Anna acknowledged, turning her eyes to Jecks.

"Lord Jecks, in the next day or so, you and Han-for should discuss which levies to call up... and how many. Then I'll draft the scrolls."

Both men nodded.

"Oh... and I think I'd like some of the lancers who can handle bows to come with me."

"That would be best, lady;" Hanfor said with a grin. "Most can only get the shafts into the air and pointed in the direction of the enemy without you and your spells."

Anna was afraid that still might have been the case. "Do you wish me to accompany you in Mencha... and beyond?" asked Jecks.

"I had thought of it," Anna replied. "I also thought that we might bring Lord Jimbob along."

Hanfor nodded. "Words mean little to him.""His father had trouble with them as well," Jecks answered dryly. "The peach falls not far from the tree, alas."

Anna frowned. "What about bringing one of the older students, too?"

"You would not wish Hoede, and Skent went to Fussen. There are no other fosterlings, only pages."

Anna ignored Jecks' unconscious chauvinism. "What about Kinor? Liende's son? I think they all need to see what Defalk faces."

"Best you ask your chief player," Jecks suggested.

"I will. If she's reluctant, we can bring Resor." Anna took a sip of water.

"Oh... what do you think about making Skent an undercaptain? And bringing him?"

Jocks frowned.

Hanfor nodded slowly. "I would have him work with Jirsit, beginning this day. He has the sense, and you have need that he become experienced in arms and battle."

Abruptly, Jecks smiled. "I will work with him, as well. But he should not sit with you at table until after he proves himself."

"You mean, wherever we go?" Jocks nodded.

"If you two would tell Skent, and let him know that this is an opportunity for him?"