66.

ENCORA, RANUAK.

The Matriarch looks from the vanishing silver image in the black-tiled pool to the four players on the far side and nods. Each of the four bows, then turns and slips out of the scrying room.

The waters of the pool remain serene as the Matriarch turns her head and addresses the younger woman. "You see, daughter? No unnecessary sentimentality, and no overreaction. Some rulers, as did the Evult, would have leveled all of that town. The Regent punished the guilty and the rebellious, then rebuilt the hold with sorcery, set a guard, and now continues westward to deal with Rabyn."

"There was not much left for overreaction," points out the silver-haired Ulgar, who stands at the Matriarch's other shoulder. "That spell of hers killed every man enchanted with Darksong, and that was almost every able-bodied man in Pamr."

"Does she have a heart, Mother?" asks Alya. "Or was Veria correct that she is a cold seeker after power?"

"She risks death every time she attempts to send a missive across the depths to the mist worlds, and all of Erde can feel the strain on the harmonies. Yet she continues those efforts. I believe they must be to her children."

"You don't know?"

"How would I? Except as a mother?" The Matriarch shrugs. "She has taken in those she did not have to take in. She allowed the Lady of Stromwer to live, and her first act upon taking that hold was to restore her child. She has returned Dumar to the old line, and after defeating Bertmynn, she has returned to her own land.

She has tried to use Darksong to avoid killing, and she has tried, far from successfully, to use spells that would kill fewer souls. She does not act like a Bertmynn or an Evult. The lords of the Thirty-three fear her already, but now they will respect her, for she has shown that she will not tolerate disrespect from either those above or below the salt-or the table itself." The Matriarch laughs, sardonically. "And she has just begun to know the pain of justice in ruling."

Alya presses her lips together. "She fought but two battles and did not even march into Elahwa."

"She destroyed the war-dog who would not let any woman lift her head. She has supported the only lord that all of Ebra will accept in these days. And your sister lives. That we know, and she will recover from the wounds she has suffered. The sorceress has prevented Bertmynn from further abusing the city. I would gather that the sorceress has also prevailed upon young Hadrenn to treat Elahwa gently, In that, we shall see, but whatever the outcome, it is far better than what would have happened without her intervention."

"We shall see," avers Alya.

"Do not be so doubtful, daughter," chides Ulgar. "Has not your mother been proved wise in each event?"Alya nods, if slowly.

"I am not infallible, Ulgar," replies the Matriarch. "Far from it. Only the harmonies are infallible. That they have reminded me, and that they will remind all who employ their powers, even the sorceress."

"Even the sorceress," Ulgar murmurs.

67.

Anna wiped the dampness off her forehead, moisture from the cool mist that was not quite heavy enough to be even a drizzle, then shifted her weight in the saddle. Even the Chean River, to the right of the road that followed the river bluffs, looked gray in the early-morning light that filtered through the low and formless clouds.

After turning in the saddle, as if to check how closely Jimbob and Kinor followed, Jecks observed, "You are distressed, my lady."

"I'm not distressed. I'm worried. Right now, it's not raining enough to get the roads really muddy. But it could. What if it starts to rain before we can head out to help Hanfor?"

"Hanfor will carry out his orders," Jecks replied, easing his mount closer to Anna's. "He will not risk his lancers. You have ordered him to harry and delay Rabyn, and that he will do." Jecks offered both a smile and a shrug. "If it should rain, then Rabyn will have even more difficulty than Hanfor, and you will have more time to reach them."

"I hope so" The Regent glanced up at the featureless gray clouds hanging over the road that stretched westward along the river toward Falcor, still more than a day's ride away. If it doesn't start to pour.

"You will need that time. You cannot rush off to Denguic or Dubaria or Fussen,"

Jecks said slowly. "Spend one day in Falcor. One day to set right what you can."

"I'll think about it," Anna promised. One day didn't sound like much, but a day here and a day there, and pretty soon... There was already so much to worry about-whether Hanfor could continue to elude Rabyn and keep the Nesereans from going farther into Defalk; whether Hadrenn would be able to unite Ebra and whether he would keep his word; whether Skent would work out as the custodian of Gatrune's lands; whether Herene would be strong enough to reunite Pamr and hold the lands; whether Jimbob would learn from all that was happening; how long the Liedfuhr would honor his promise not to attack Defalk.

All that didn't include the worries over the mistakes she had already made, mistakes someone more experienced might have avoided.

She moistened her lips and looked at the road ahead once more. One day at a time... that's all you can do... one day at a time.

68.

The clouds that had threatened rain during the entire ride from Pamr remained low and formless, continuing to drizzle mist across Anna and the others as they rode through the late-afternoon gloom. Ahead lay the imposing stone bridge that spanned the Falche just below where the Fal and Chean Rivers joined. Beyond and to the south of the bridge lay the northern part of the city of Falcor, on the higher part of the bluff. The liedburg lay across the bridge and even farther to the south.Anna's eyes strayed to the north, past the wall on her right that was part of the wide causeway leading to the eastern end of the bridge. Both causeway and bridge she had erected with sorcery right before spring-and prostrated herself for nearly a week because she'd done it with a lutar for accompaniment, rather than using players. Just three seasons ago? She shook her head. Only a few weeks beyond half a year? It seemed far longer... more like years, years spent on horseback trying to repel invaders and deal with men who wanted to make every woman back into a slave. Or so it seemed, at times. Except so often, no one sees it but you. They see a Lord Dannel as a protective father, or a Fa.r.s.enn as an avenging son, or a Bertmynn as an ambitious lord, or a Ustal as a proud young Lord...

"Regent?" Himar eased his mount around Jimbob's and up beside Farinelli.

"Yes, Himar?" Anna focused on the overcaptain.

"You should know... the scouts reported that several arms-men were watching from the north bank of the river. They wore dark leathers and no livery, but when the scouts crossed the bridge and rode after them, they were gone."

"Dark leathers. . . free-lance mercenaries?" Jecks frowned. "Why would such be here? The Regent put out no call for lancers-of-opportunity."

"Because they know I have to fight Rabyn and I pay well?" asked Anna. "That can't be much of a secret."

"Mayhap. but to travel so far..." mused the white-haired lord. "They could not have come from nearer than Nordwei, and mercenaries are less than welcome there."

"Tomorrow will tell." suggested Himar. "Mercenaries are not shy about asking for golds. If those were mercenaries, they will be at the liedburg not much after dawn tomorrow, boasting of their prowess with blade and lance." He laughed.

"They will ask for more gold each than a captain receives, and claim they are worth even more."

"Will any of them be any good?" Anna wondered if some might be skilled enough to hire to replace those men lost in Ebra and in Pamr.

"We will see." Himar shrugged. "It cannot hurt to listen and to look."

Farinelli's hoofs echoed on the hard stones of the bridge, and Anna looked over and down at the sorcery-created gorge that held the Falche River. Even though it was well into fall. the river had continued to rise over the summer, and now filled entirely the lowest level of the riverbed, more water than she'd ever seen there. Maybe Defalk had once been a truly green land, the way Jecks had said, and perhaps it would be once more.

As Anna rode down the western causeway into Falcor itself, she looked at the pedestal in the roundabout just beyond the causeway, a marble-and-brick foundation that had lost the statue that had once stood there long before she had come to Defalk.. The marble base had no inscription or clue as to whose monument might have stood there. If whoever had it erected had even ruled long enough to have had it completed.

Fifty yards in front of Anna, the standard-bearer turned his mount southward, and the smell of roasted fowl drifted along the avenue that sloped downhill slightly and would lead them to the liedburg. The streets seemed to have people on them, unlike in years previous; but those who were out stepped clear from the paving stones as they saw the purple banner.Rickel and Blaz rode forward of Anna and more toward the edges of the street, their eyes constantly moving, studying the scattered handfuls of people as the column continued southward.

"Hail the Regent!" called a tall man in innkeeper's brown from the narrow front step of the Golden Lutar.

"Best wishes to you, innkeeper!" Anna called back.

"Thank you, Regent and sorceress!"

"He'll tell everyone who'll listen that he talked to the Regent," murmured Jecks.

"It can't hurt, can it?" she asked.

"Not with those who will listen to him," Jecks answered with a laugh.

Ahead, another two hundred yards past the inn, past the last of the more affluent three-storied dwellings on the north side of the open ground that circled the liedburg, she could see the liedburg, with wisps of smoke curling above the walls and through the gray and damp air.

The gates stood wide open, as they always had since she had become Regent, and the pair of duty armsmen in Defalkan purpie raised their arms in a form of salute as Anna neared the gates. She inclined her head in response as she and Jecks rode through the gate.

"...good to be back..." said Jimbob from behind them.

"...won't be here more than a day or two... just enough to get supplies and give the mounts a breather," answered Kinor.

"...wouldn't mind a clean tunic..."

There's a lot you wouldn't mind but you won't have much time to appreciate it.

Anna glanced toward the side courtyard. Was Menares waiting for them? She frowned.

"If you have no need of me, lady," Himar said, easing his mount closer to Anna, "I will be setting the lancers and seeing what supplies we will be needing for the journey westward. You still plan on the day after tomorrow?"

"It won't be any earlier." Anna nodded. 'There's too much for me to do, and I suppose the men and their mounts could use the rest."

"They could use more," Himar reminded her.

"Talk to me tomorrow...if you really think it's necessary, maybe we can add another day."

"Best I check on all the mounts, then." The overcaptain urged his mount toward the rear courtyard and the lancer barracks and stables.

The gray-bearded Menares was indeed standing ten yards ahead of Anna, against the inner wall of the liedburg's side courtyard, just outside the stable doors, clearly a.s.suming that Anna would unsaddle and groom Farinelli The gray wool cloak he wore could not conceal the fact that Menares, while still remaining an impressively broad figure, had become considerably less corpulent. Dark circles ringed the intent but seemingly colorless eyes that dominated his round face.Anna guided Farinelli to the stable door before dismounting, trying to leave s.p.a.ce for the riders in the column behind to pa.s.s on their way to the main barracks and stables. For a moment, as always, Anna held to the saddle while her legs adjusted. Then she stepped out of the mist and into the dryer dimness of the stable.

Menares followed Jecks and Anna and Farinelli into the stable.

"He looks good, lady," offered Tirsik the stablemaster, stepping forward toward Anna, "except I'd like the farrier to check his shoes."

"If you would-" Anna stopped and sighed. "Let me know when you need me." She'd have to be there if Farinelli needed reshoeing.

"That I will, lady." The stablemaster looked at Jecks. "And your mount, lord?"

"It would not hurt to check his shoes, though he is less... choosy about shoeing." Jecks grinned at Anna.

She grinned back.

"Yours carries not the future of Defalk," countered Tirsik. "Merely a high and most n.o.ble lord."

"Were you my stablemaster, master Tirsik..." Jecks mock-threatened.

"You'd have my head, Lord Jecks, if I did not worry about the Lady Anna." Tirsik bowed.

Jecks laughed. "You are a scoundrel."

"Aye, and I'm too ancient to be other 'n that." Tirsik bowed to Lady Anna.

"Beggin' your pardon, Regent."

"You're pardoned, Tirsik."

Anna had her gear and the saddle off Farinelli and had begun to brush the gelding before she noticed Menares standing beside Rickel at the end of the stall. "What is it, Menares?" Anna was almost afraid to ask, but Menares wouldn't have come out to the stable if he weren't concerned. She kept grooming Farinelli while she spoke.

"Lord Dannel, Lady Anna. He sent his son here to inquire when you would return.

The young man was most rude."

"Hoede?"

"No. This be an older man."

"An older son of Lord Dannel? Did he leave a scroll or anything?" Anna ducked and slipped to the gelding's other side.

"No, Lady Anna. I asked, but the young fellow said that his sire would deliver his message in person."

"Those are the worst kinds," Jecks said, stepping up beside Menares. "Did he say when this might be?"

"No, Lord Jecks. That was yesterday, and no one saw him today.""I'll have to tell him no. I can't back down just because he's upset. Then, I'd have to back down for every lord in Defalk, I suppose."

"Some have," Jecks said. "They lasted but a season or so."

"I haven't been Regent for much more than a year." Anna set the brush aside and gave Farinelli a last pat on the neck. "Tirsik will feed you, fellow."

"Aye, and I will." The stablemaster appeared with a wooden bucket containing grain.

Anna picked up the lutar, leaving the saddlebags and the mirror case to the guards. After she left the stable, Jecks at her side, she crossed the courtyard and stepped into the lower corridor that led toward the receiving room.

"I must check on Jimbob and Kinor," Jecks said.

"When you're done, would you meet me in the receiving room to review the damage... all the scrolls piled there?"

"I will be there after I settle the young scamps." With a smile, Jecks turned.

As she started toward the receiving room, she stopped, c.o.c.king her head, wondering if she heard rain on the roof-or horses coming across the open ground to the liedburg. You imagine too much. She shook her head and kept walking, carrying just the lutar. Much as she wanted a hot bath and clean clothes, she had the feeling that she'd better see just what had piled up in the way of scrolls and messages before she even thought about bathing.

Rickel handed the saddlebags to Giellum, who bowed and started for the stairs.

"Thank you, Giellum," Anna said.