For another three or four deks, they rode in comparative silence, Anna shifting her weight in the saddle occasionally, and hoping that the Sand Pa.s.s fort did lie beyond the hillcrest they approached, and not one even farther along the road.

"How far does the Sand Pa.s.s stretch through the Ostfels?" Behind the sorceress, Kinor's voice rose over the murmurs of the lancers and the muted thumping of hoofs.

"If one can believe the maps, we will need to ride almost fifty deks from the fort before we clear the eastern hills of the Ostfels," responded Himar, "and then more than a hundred to reach Synek."

"A long journey with but tenscore lancers." added Jimbob.

Does he think lancers grow on trees? Anna tightened her lips, but forced herself not to reply.

Jecks glanced at Anna, rolling his eyes.

They both laughed.

"... and the Regent took all of Dumar with but fifteenscore lancers," Himar finished. "That was against more than a hundredscore."

Jimbob did not reply, not audibly.

A few moments later, they reached the gentle hillcrest, and, as Anna bad hoped, the shallow valley ahead was the one that held the Sand Pa.s.s fort, the redstone- and-brick structure almost blending with the red rock that framed the entrance to the pa.s.s itself.

"Not much farther," Himar said, adding, "The Regent's banner to the fore!"The walls of the Sand Pa.s.s fort had indeed been repaired, although the irregular lines of mortar showed the damage infficted by the Evult's dark magic on the stones and brickwork created by Brill's sorcery, and Anna doubted that the structure could withstand much more than attacks by brigands.

The gates had been returned to place and were swung back to welcome the Regent A score of armsmen in leathers and the purple of Defalk were formed up just inside the gateway into the fort A gray-bearded figure stood before them.

Although she remembered Hanfor and others talking about the veteran armsman who had come from Mencha once and who was in charge of the fort, Anna had never met him, and she struggled to remember his name.

"Jerat," whispered Himar from behind the Regent "Thank you," Anna murmured.

"Welcome, Regent and sorceress!"

"Thank you, Jerat. I am glad to see you and to offer my grat.i.tude for all the efforts you and your men have made to repair the fort. The last time I saw it, it was in ruins." That's certainly true.

Jerat bowed, then looked up. "Regent... we have done the best we can, and we continue to labor."

"You have done much," Anna affirmed. More than enough for a fort that's outlived its usefulness... You hope.

"Repairing the fort has helped us add some armsmen as well, Lady Anna. Did you know that we have over twoscore here, and a score could go with you... should you need additional forces."

"You have done well, Jerat, and we appreciate that" Anna managed not to wince at her own words. You're sounding like royalty... or a politician. She nodded and turned to Himar. "Once everyone's quartered and settled, perhaps you could review these armsmen with Jerat and see whether it would be better to have them accompany us... or whether they might best be held in reserve to follow us later. I imagine you'll have to look into the question of supplies and mounts...

and other matters."

"Jerat and I will discuss this," Himar said. "And perhaps the Lord High Counselor?" He glanced toward Jecks.

Jecks smiled politely. "I am at your disposal, overcaptain."

"The stables are on the southeast wall... the ones left. We didn't try to rebuild the others, collapsed like they were." Jerat turned and began to waik toward the remaining stables.

Anna looked over the armsmen as she rode past. They looked like any others she had seen. "He found more than a score of men to train here in the middle of nowhere.. ' she murmured to Jecks.

"So it would seem... though some might be Ebran deserters or from our forces."

"Still..." Anna mused, "in little more than a season...."

"If others did as well, you would have a greater force," agreed Jecks."Maybe we need to do recruiting in the outlying lands," suggested Anna. Yet another task and job... even if you survive the battles, you'll be buried by the bureaucracy you'll have to create to run this place.

She tried not to groan as she reined up outside the stable, keeping a smile firmly in place.

40.

ESARIA, NESEREA.

The dark-haired Rabyn slips from the audience chair without looking at the Mansuuran overcaptain and makes his way into the smaller chamber behind the receiving hall, where he steps to a serving table. There he lifts a pitcher and pours a goblet of wine, looking up as Nubara walks slowly into the chamber.

"Audiences are done for the day," the youth says. "For that, I am pleased. A charade, but a necessary one, you know?"

"I understand,"...offers Nubara. "Charades are useful to rulers.

Most useful, if one would gain the support of the people."

"Ah, yes, the people, the dear people." Rabyn takes a second goblet from the back of the table, set slightly apart from two others, and fills it, then extends the goblet. "You look thirsty, Nubara, even if I did all the speaking."

"that is your role as Prophet" Nubara takes the goblet.

Rabyn smiles across the small chamber and lifts his gla.s.s, drinking. After a moment, he replies. "The Prophet of Music has many roles."

"All rulers do." Nubara takes a sip from the wine goblet, then frowns, looking at the dark liquid.

"One of those roles is to make sure they continue to rule," Rabyn says easily, setting his goblet on the back of the table.

Nubara's hands begin to shake, and he barely manages to set the goblet on the serving table.

"You see... Nubara... you should pay attention to me." Rabyn's smile is hard, almost dispa.s.sionate.

The officer pales, trying to speak before his knees buckle, and he slowly collapses into a heap on the polished white tiles of the floor. Rabyn watches, seemingly waiting, until the lancer overcaptain convulses. Then the youth kneels and rolls Nubara onto his back. Rabyn takes a small vial from his wallet and lets several drops ooze into the Mansuuran officer's mouth.

The convulsions slow, and Rabyn stands, stepping back and watching, his dark eyes cold and intent.

After several convulsive movements, Nubar slowly sits up. Then he stands, if shakily. "What...you serpant... what have you done?"

"Careful, Nubara." Rabyn steps back, holding up the vial. "This will only last a week ...and none but I know the way to formulate more."

"If you would explain... Prophet..." Sweat begins to pour from Nubara's forehead, and he shudders."I did not trust you, Nubara...so I took steps to introduce... certain ingredients into your diet... they have damaged your body. You will die within a day without the antidote. The damage is forever, the antidote is temporary."

Rabyn's smile is hard. "You will need several drops every few days."

"You are truly your mother's son," Nubara's voice is rasping. "Truly..."

"I am indeed, and do not ever forget that. You will not forget, not if you wish to live. Nor will that b.i.t.c.h sorceress." Another smile crosses Rabyn's youthful face, a countenance that suddenly appears far older, far more cruel.

"Now...shall we plan the attack on Defalk?"

Nubara looks down, if momentarily, before he raises his eyes. "I believe such an attack is most unwise, Prophet."

"Will you a.s.sist me? Or do you wish to die?"

Nubara takes another deep breath. "I will a.s.sist you."

"I thought you would see reason, Nubara." Rabyn smiles once again.

41.

Come in." Anna stepped back from the pine-planked door to let Jecks and Himar enter the chamber that had once been meant for Lord Barjim. It was larger than the room she had once occupied at the Sand Pa.s.s fort with three other women, but spare, containing little more than a large bed, whose frame had been roughly repaired with pine splints over the light oak, a few chairs, a wash table with bowl and pitcher, a small writing table with a single stool, a chamber pot, and a plank with hanging pegs nailed to the brick wall.

The traveling scrying mirror rested upon the writing table, and the uncased lutar lay across the lower corner of the bed.

"You wished to see us?" A humorous glint tinged Jecks' hazel eyes.

"I did." Anna let Himar close the door before she asked, "We still have two companies of bowmen, right?" We'd better...

"They can shoot arrows. Most would be useless without your spells to guide the arrows," Himar said. "Years it takes to make an archer."

"We'll need their arrows, though." Anna pursed her lips. "Before we talk, we need to see what's happening in Ebra." If we can. She motioned toward the mirror on the table, then turned and reclaimed the lutar. She checked the tuning, cleared her throat, and began what she hoped would be the last vocalise.

Her cords clear, she began the scrying spell.

Bertmynn, Bertmynn, Lord I'd see, show his forces now to me...

As the last notes of the spell died way, the mirror silvered over, and then presented an image of armsmen in leathers and burgundy tunics advancing across a recently harvested grain field. One armsman staggered, flailed as an arrow went through his neck, then slowly crumpled. Those behind and beside him continued to trot forward with bared blades.

'They are fighting. Whether it is the beginning or the end..." Jecks shrugged."The beginning," offered Himar. "Bertmynn's armsmen still hesitate."

Without waiting, Anna tried a second spell.

Show me now, and as must be.

any fighting near Elahwa city....

Anna tried not to wince at the rhyme, but the mirror image shifted, this time to show what seemed to her a pitched skirmish between figures in blue and others in burgundy. To the side of the blue figures with blades were others in blue with bows. Abruptly, a squad of lancers in burgundy appeared, slashing at both archers and armsmen afoot. Anna could tell that most, if not all, of those in blue were women.

As it became clear that few of the freewomen shown by the gla.s.s would survive, Anna sang a release couplet, then slowly laid the lutar on the bed.

"It may be different elsewhere near Elahwa," offered Jecks.

"It might be, but... is it likely?" asked Anna. "I'll check again before we leave in the morning."

"The morning?" Himar's eyebrows rose.

"We should march before Bertmynn can recover. We can't reach Elahwa before he takes over the city, anyway," Anna said. You couldn't reach the other side of the Sand Pa.s.s....

"You should not," returned Himar. "Let the freewomen weaken him, and let young Hadrenn understand the danger. Your support will be worth more to him."

"And it will be less costly for you and for our lancers," added Jecks.

The Regent nodded slowly. What both men said made sense. So why did she feel guilty about not being able to attack Bertmynn before he reached Elahwa? Because women are dying, and they have no one else? Her lips tightened, but nodded once more. "We leave in the morning."

42.

The Ostfels and the eastern end of the Sand Pa.s.s lay a good ten deks to the west and behind the column of Defalkan lancers. On the north side of the narrow road were gra.s.slands, similar to those around Mencha, but more lush. A half dozen deks or so to the south of the road lay a long beige ridge of sand-the westernmost part of the Sand Hills. The air above the dunes shifted and shimmered, sometimes reflecting the sun or something else.

Anna could almost feel the heat radiating from the dunes, and she took another long swallow from the water bottle as she studied the Sand Hills. According to Brill, at one point, years earlier the sand had actually blocked the entrance to and the use of the Sand Pa.s.s, effectively isolating Ebra from Defalk. Then the Evult had shifted the dunes and begun his plans to invade and subdue Defalk.

Anna frowned. Without the Evult, would the sands shift again?

"What is the worst mistake a lancer can make in battle?" asked Kinor, his voice drifting forward to Anna and Jecks.

"Trying too hard to kill people," answered Himar.Anna found herself listening, wondering what the overcaptain would say next.

"Aren't you supposed to kill the enemy?" interjected Jimbob. Himar laughed. "If you must and if you can-easily. If your blade skills are good, it is best to let others make mistakes." There was a pause, as if the former Neserean officer had shrugged. "If you cannot; then by all means attack vigorously so that none will know how little skill you have."

"...doesn't make sense..."

Anna thought the words were Jimbob's, but she wasn't sure. "Perhaps one lancer in fivescore is strong enough and skilled enough to beat down another's blade.

In all other cases, lancers die from their mistakes, and the biggest mistake is being too hasty in trying to kill another."

Jecks smiled and murmured to Anna. "His words are true."

"They make sense," she replied. They're true in everything... but it's so hard to be patient when everyone is flailing at you. She wished Skent had heard Himar's words... or that someone had conveyed them to the all-too-young undercaptain.

Another mistake? Another case of haste on your part? Because you need trusted and intelligent officers so badly?