"Still, he waits," said Jecks quietly.

"Somebody has to wait." why... why are you so edgy?

The sound of mounts died away as Himar and Stepan finished arranging their companies on the low ridgeline.

Anna estimated the distance-less than a third of a dek-a shade over three hundred yards, and the air was almost still.

Her spells would carry that far. And the spells of his players, if they are players, will carry back, too.

Her eyes rested on the burgundy tunics, and then on the purple tunics and those in green on her side of the field. They're going to die... some of them-many of them-if you're successful. And why? Because you don't want to keep fighting andbecause Bertmynn wants power? Are you any different? Anna pushed that thought away.

"Set up to play as close to the front here, as you can." The sorceress swung out of the saddle and handed the reins to Blaz, stepping forward onto a slight knoll that would give her a bit more height.

Behind her, players scrambled out of their saddles, and into position, as they prepared instruments and began to tune. Anna blinked in the noon sun, trying to take in Bertmynn's forces on the rolling rise while the familiar cacophony built, and then began to subside.

A slow drumbeat rolled across the s.p.a.ce between the two forces... long and dull, and the tone seemed to freeze the day for a moment.

"Drums!" Jecks' voice hissed across the distance between them. "Not players...

but drummers. Battle drums!"

Anna frowned, worried as much by Jecks' tone and the disgust and horror he conveyed as by the low drumrolls. Can you adapt that spell to drums? Do you need to? How soon?

"You must spell against the drums," Jecks insisted.

"We stand ready, Regent," Liende called.

You can do only one thing at a time. Anna shook her head, pulled her thoughts away from the slow rhythm of the drum-beats, and tried to make sense of the burgundy lancers and armsmen moving down the opposite hillside and across the shallow depression-less than two hundred yards east and perhaps three yards lower than the rise on which Anna and her players stood.

"Ah..." Why is it so hard to think? "The flame song!"

"The flame song," Liende repeated. "On my mark."

"Go!" Anna tried to ignore the sounds of trumpets, the dull clang and clunk of weapons, and the continuing roll of the drums from behind Bertmynn's forces. She concentrated instead on the spell she would have to use.

"Mark now!" called Liende. Anna waited for a moment, then began.

Fill with fire, fill with flame those weapons spelled against my name ... Fill with fire, fill with flame Lines of fire crisscrossed the eastern part of the field, yet the lancers and armsmen in burgundy continued to advance, despite perhaps a third of them falling under the spell fires.

"Why don't they stop?" muttered Jimbob.

Why don't they... so many are dying... but they keep coming... Anna shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts, trying to escape the feeling of walking through mud-or quicksand.

Anna squinted. Was there a haze covering the gra.s.s? Was the gra.s.s burning somewhere?Next, the burgundy armsmen marched forward, armsmen alone, without lancers, their steps seemingly matching the two-toned... or three-toned... drumbeats. The lack of horse bothered Anna, though she knew she was no military strategist.

Himar stood in the stirrups, his voice loud and clear. "Bowmen! To the east, to the lancers in red. Nock your arrows."

The volume of Himar's orders shook Anna, like cold water, and she turned and gestured to Liende. "Once through-the first arrow song."

As the music rose, in tune, Anna began to sing, each word a terrible effort against the very air that seemed to congeal around her.

These arrows shot into the air, the head of each must strike one armsman there with force and speed to kill them all, all those who stand against our call!

Anna dropped her arm, half-conscious of the thrumming of shafts released. Her limbs felt as though they were clad in lead.

These arrows shot into the air...

As her words ended, she looked at Himar, but the overcaptain continued to study the field, where fifty or so more red-clad Ebrans had fallen.

"We have not enough archers, Regent. Shall we loose shafts again?"

"Again!" Anna commanded. She blinked, as for a moment, she had seen double. But you're not using Darksong. "The arrow song! Again!"

The players began the spell tune once more, and Anna forced her thoughts and visualization, concentrating on the image of arrows striking burgundy-clad figures, but even the images seemed to skitter out of her mind. Drawing on the years of recitals, she slowly reinforced her concentration with each word.

These arrows shot into the air, the head of each must strike one armsman there....

Anna finished the spell, finding herself almost gasping. That shouldn't happen... what's happened to your breathing? You never had problems breathing.

Jecks seemed to be guiding his mount toward her, but his progress was slow, as if something were holding him back.

The drums sounded louder, heavier, reverberating across the shallow valley, building and echoing, and the ground seemed to shiver with each drumroll. A smokelike pall rose out of the gra.s.s, like a ground fog rolling toward Anna and her forces- and the first line of burgundy armsmen reached within yards of the Defalkan lancers.

"Stop the drums, lady!" Jecks called. "The drums..."

A single trumpet burst rose from somewhere beyond the fog. Anna looked stupidly into the growing grayness. Adding to the drumbeats were the thundering hoofs of lancers.

Anna squinted and blinked, her eyes trying to focus, to make sense out of the conflicting images that a.s.saulted her.Out of the grayness charged burgundy lancers, sabres slashing at the near- motionless Defalkan lancers. Each blow struck by the burgundy-clad lancers seemed to fell a lancer of Defalk or Synek.

"The drums! Use a spell to direct shafts to the drum-skins..." yelled Kinor, riding toward Anna, yelling, blade out in a guard position. Yet even the young man's progress appeared glacial, as he called again, "A spell to the drums!"

Kinor's words fell around Anna, as she struggled to comprehend what he meant.

Anna felt as though she were dragging herself out of a pit. What do you have to lose? Each word was labored as she forced it out, deliberately. '"Liende, the arrow spell! Now! Himar, have them loose more arrows, any arrows!"

The players' first notes were almost cacophonous, but by the end of the first bar they joined, and the grayness that had covered the field began to shred.

Heads of arrows, shot into the air, strike the drumskins, straight through there, rend the drums and those who play...

for their spells and Darksong pay!

As the last notes of the spell shimmered in the heavy air, the drumbeats from the far hillside wavered, faltered, and then died away.

Even without the support of the drums, the burgundy lancers had already fought their way through two ranks of Anna's and Hadrenn's lancers before the effects of the Darksong lifted and the defenders began to raise blades.

Kinor and Rickel abruptly appeared before Anna, mounted, to head off a single burgundy lancer who had broken through and charged toward the Regent. Blaz and Lejun converged as well, and bright blades slashed.

Anna dropped back several paces, turning toward Liende. One player lay sprawled on the ground.

"Another set of arrows... the arrow spell again... !" Anna demanded.

Anna timed the music and lifted her voice toward the east.

These arrows shot into the air, the head of each must strike Lord Bertmynn there...

Anna dropped her hand, and sensed the release of the arrows.

-with force and speed to kill him dead, for all the treachery he's done and led.

Light-headed and off-balance, she did not move as the dozen or so arrows flew eastward, but tried to catch her breath, Watching.

A single pillar of fire flared just forward of the smoldering ashes that had been drums.

Abruptly, a trumpet blast sounded, and the front section of the burgundy lancers lurched forward.

Anna swallowed. There were still twice as many lancers in red as those in purple and green. Or more. She blinked. There were still two groups of burgundy lancers-or was one group turning, disappearing over the back of the ridge? Her eyes burned."The flame song!" She tried to keep her voice calm, but her remaining lancers could not hold against twice their numbers-or more.

"The flame song, at my mark! Mark!" Liende's voice was ragged, hoa.r.s.e, and the agony in her words tore at Anna.

Yet, from somewhere, a spell melody rose-true and clear; but thin, as if carried by less than half the players. Even so, the first bars were ragged, before the clarity of the strings lifted the horn and woodwind into a fusion.

Anna forced her full concentration into the spell itself, while trying to make her voice open and free with full concert projection.

Those of Ebra who will not be loyal to the Defalkan Regency, let them die, let them lie, struck by fire, struck by flame. ...

This time, as had happened at Envaryl, the chords of harmony shivered the sky, and the ground. The wailing that should have been a counter pointed chord followed, except that strangely harmonic as the wailing felt, once more, nothing matched, not intervals, not key or scale or anything-the second time Anna had heard harmony that approximated pure dissonance, again a sound that no one else seemed to hear.

She wanted to cover her ears, but the sound knifed through her like a series of needles that burned every nerve in her body. Behind her, there were screams, and she knew that awful sound had struck through the players as well.

Before she could turn, she could feel her legs collapsing, could sense figures moving toward her, and she wanted to tell them, I'll be all right.

When she woke, she lay on the narrow cot under her tent, and Jecks sat on the stool facing her, his face barely illuminated by the single candle.

"Oh..." A line of pain knifed through her eyes.

"My lady... how long must you do this?"

As long as it takes... Anna turned her head to look at Jecks, turned it without lifting it. Even that gentle movement sent additional stabs of pain through her skull.

"You need to drink... and eat." He extended the water bottle.

Some of the stabbing pain abated after several swallows. "Dehydrated... I guess."

"You will need to eat in a time." Jecks' voice was soft, caring. Thank heavens there's only one image of him.... "In a moment... more water, please... if you would."

Jecks eased the bottle to her lips again.

After several more small swallows, she coughed slightly, wincing, then asked, "Did we win?"

"None who remained on the field and wore the burgundy live. Some half-score of Hadrenn's lancers died also from the last spell"

"The players?" Anna asked, her voice fearful."Some fell... like you...Liende... the young one, Yuarl... but they awakened earlier and have eaten. They are resting. Some may be sleeping."

Anna let out her breath, and stars sparkled before her eyes. Then the full import of what Jecks had said earlier struck. "Those on the field?"

"Ah... Just before your last spell, many score of Bertmynn's lancers turned and fled."

"How many?"

"We could not tell, but perhaps twentyscore or thirtyscore. The Lord Bertmynn had brought more than eightyscore."

Anna took a deep breath. Thirtyscore lancers loose-that wasn't good, especially the way she felt. What about the fiftyscore you killed... is that good?

"How many... how many did they kill?" she asked fearfully. "Almost fivescore'

Jecks admitted. "Three from Defalk, two from Synek. Less than in many battles, far less than at the Sand Pa.s.s."

"...shouldn't have been that many."

"Against battle drums? Without you, all would have perished."

"...should have thought faster..."

"Himar has gathered all the blades and lances," Jecks added, as if to change the subject. "I suggested that you might be willing to make a gift of them to Lord Hadrenn...to defer the expense he will incur in raising the additional forces he will need."

"He'll need them."

"More than he now knows."

"How did Kinor and Jimbob take it? The battle." She knew the question was inane as she asked it, but did not try to take it back.

"Jimbob was white, and he shivered, but said nothing and kept to his post. You saw Kinor; he would give his life to save you. He was not injured, but when the final spell fell, he wept, but still lifted his blade as though to smite any Ebrans who might be left." Jecks' crooked smile warmed Anna. "I took the precaution of having the purple company guard young Hadrenn closely, for his protection, of course. With that, and with your friend Stepan in charge of the green forces, I thought that might ensure that Hadrenn had no second thoughts."

"Probably a good idea," Anna whispered, taking another swallow of water, and then reaching for the hard biscuits. "Skent?" she asked.

"He acquitted himself well, though his company was the last Himar threw into the melee."

Anna moistened lips that were still dry.... "...got to stop doing this.."

"I believe I suggested that, my lady."

"You're not sorry I used the flame spell?" Anna had to know."Against drums and Darksong?" Jecks laughed. 'Would that you had done so earlier, but we did not know how low Bertmynn would stoop or that they would be so used."

"But I suspected something... so did you." But you couldn't think... was that the spell Bertmynn was casting, or something that slowed everything? "...didn't think fast enough."

"No one thinks fast enough in battle. You thought well enough to save most of your forces."

in spite of herself, Anna found the yawns coming. Her eyelids were heavy, far too heavy. "... stupid... really stupid..."