"Veria, I had asked not to be interrupted. I presume you have information of great import." The Matriarch's words are level.

"Matriarch, you said that this sorceress used only Clearsong. You said that she was with the harmonies."

Veria's cold eyes fix on the cherubic face of her mother. "All Liedwahr felt the dissonance of this . . .

abomination."

"I have no doubts that the sorceress meant well, daughter." The Matriarch's face clouds.

"'Meant well.' You will find an excuse for everything that she does. Did not the Prophet of Music mean well? Did not the Evult mean well?"

"You take on too much, daughter," says Ulgar quietly, rising from the chair.

Veria's eyes flash. "You would see nothing but perfection in every word-"

'What happened to the sorceress?" asks the older woman. "If you will..."

"She lies prostrate. The seers say she may not live. Nor should she, with that force of Darksong!"

"And if she does? Do you think she will attempt it again?" The Matriarch turns in the padded desk chair.

"If she can. The woman has no ideals. She is not a woman for us."

"Oh? Was she raised as you to understand Darksong and Clearsong? Did she have someone tutor her in the finer points..."

"Matriarch..."

"I think you should leave, Veria." Ulgar steps forward, and his eyes are hard. "We do not know what happened, not well enough to judge, and you wish to judge."

"1 have every right to judge Darksong-and I will." Veria bows. "Good day, Matriarch."

As the door closes, the Matriarch glances to her consort. "You should have let her speak."

"No. She is only looking for ways to hurt you.". Ulgar's eyes go to the door.

"I cannot explain it, Ulgar." The Matriarch sighs softly. "I know that whatever the sorceress did was to avoid more bloodshed. She does not like to shed blood. She is still young at heart, and she would use her skills to change souls to save bodies As we know-and as Veria will not see-you cannot use the harmonies in such a fashion."

"You think she used Darksong to avoid bloodshed?"

"That is my surmise. The gla.s.ses that pa.s.s will tell." The Matriarch shakes her head. "Harmony rests on what is, not on good or evil. What is, the whole basis of Clear-song, does not allow easy decisions. It was ever so for sorcerers and sorceresses, and that is why those few who survive become great. Only the great survive. It is a hard, hard lesson for the young to learn, or for those who have come from elsewhere.''

Ulgar glances toward the window and the street below, where a dark-haired woman hurries toward the harbor. "It is hard for all of us."

60.

Hot... Anna was hot all over. Except she was freezing "Cold...hot..."

Her eyes felt as though they had been replaced with a mixture of hot coals and ice, and she had no idea whether it was morning or midday or deep night.

She shivered violently.

Out of the darkness words rumbled, and more words. "Drink," someone said, and she drank, and kept drinking until she felt wetness running down her cheeks.

"Enough, lady ... enough..."

The words trailed off, and she found herself back in the darkness where she burned and froze, sweated and shivered.

Some time later, her eyes opened slowly . . . as if she had terribly violent allergies or they were swollen so much that they could barely open.

Two figures leaned over her-one a warm, kindly, white-haired figure. the other a cool, sneering, gaunt and bitter man, also with white hair. Yet both were the same, and both were Jecks.

Each held a mug, and she felt one mug held wine, the other poison.

"You must drink more. The wine holds honey." Which mug? Or were they one and the same? She tried to close one eye, but still two images of Jecks remained.

Finally, she grasped for the mug and swallowed the contents in a series of convulsive gulps.

Jecks-the two Jecks-took the mug. One smiled sadly, and the other smiled evilly. "You must rest."

Rest? Or rest forever? Oh.. EIizabetta... will I...

"Rest... you must rest..."

The words sounded kindly, and then like a promise of death. Anna tried to move, but her arms, her body seemed encased in ice, but ice that burned with every attempt to move.

Is this what it's like to be mad? Mad, mad, mad....

Her tears burned and froze her cheeks as they flowed, before her eyes closed on fire and ice, ice and fire.

61.

Anna lay propped up on the cot in her tent-the tent she hated to use because it meant her armsmen were sleeping on the ground.

Under the light of the single hanging lamp, Jecks sat on the stool across from her, deep circles ringing his eyes, his white hair ragged and disarranged. He held a platter of bard cheese and bread, from which she ate... slowly.

"The players? Besides Ha.s.set, I mean."

"He was the violino player who took the arrow?" Jecks paused. "All fell as you did, but they were eating yesterday, some the night before. Except the older man."

"Kaseth? How is he?"

Jecks glanced at the earthen floor of the tent.

"He died?"

"Yes, my lady."

Anna took a deep breath. She knew that sorcery took a toll on the players, usually a far lesser toll than on her, but somehow, she hadn't expected...

"He was old, your chief player said."

Old, and Anna had brought him to Stromwer to die. Her record with players left a great deal to be desired.

"Are the others all right?"

"Far better than you." He extended the platter. "You must eat more."

"Tell me what else has happened." Anna reached for another chunk of cheese.

"... We have had to forage some," the lord continued. "but we have taken only what we need, and only from Dencer's personal lands. At least, so far as we could tell."

Anna couldn't argue with that. She slowly ate another small chunk of hard cheese, closing her eyes for a moment to shut out the twin images of Jecks. At least, one image was no longer appearing as an evil twin, though the right one still felt much "cooler" than the left.

"Lady?"

"I'm still awake. Sometimes... the two images."

"You see double still? There were no bruises on your skull."

"It's Darksong." She opened her eyes. "If I do Darksong anymore, I see two images." She reached for the mug and swallowed. "I thought I knew what it was- Darksong. I mean-but it's not that simple."

"None of sorcery is simple." Jecks took the mug back from her and extended the platter, probably the only one in her entire camp. "Nor is it easy."

"Brill told me that the difference between Clearsong and Darksong was that one dealt with nonliving things and the other with living things." Anna frowned. "But I didn't get any reaction at first for some things that were probably Darksong."

Jecks was the one to frown. "You were using Darksong before?"

"I didn't think about some of it. I made a gown."

Jecks' face relaxed, and he nodded. "A gown."

"But cotton and wool are from living things, and that means the spell was Darksong." Anna stopped and forced herself to eat another morsel of cheese.

''Surely, such a small spell...?"

"I couldn't do it now-I'm sure of it. It's like an allergy." At the look of incomprehension on Jecks' face, she added. "It's like a poison where a little bit doesn't hurt, but if you keep adding a little bit here and a little bit there..."

He nodded slowly. "Then, the spell over Dencer's keep?"

"I knew it was Darksong," Anna admitted. "I thought I could avoid killing all of Dencer's armsmen. I didn't want any more killing. I wanted to end this campaign without killing people. I didn't think the backlash would be so bad."

"You near died. I had to force wine into you."

Anna looked at his face. Were those scratches? "I fought you?"

"You have fought me and all the forces of harmony and dissonance."

"I'm sorry. I really am." Anna swallowed. Her throat was sore, somewhat swollen, and she didn't want to consider the state of her cords. "You had to nurse me, didn,t you?"

"There was no one else."

Liende and the female players had been floored as she had been. So who else had there been? "Thank you."

Jecks smiled. "After the beginning, it was not so difficult. I did wrap you in blankets for a time."

"Did it even work? The spell?"

"That we do not know. No armsmen have left the keep. according to Hanfor's scouts. Your first spell killed Dencer?" Jecks offered another smile, more crooked. "The keep is yours-if we can reach it."

"Oh. . . the armsmen in the gorge."

"They may fight." Jecks' twin images shrugged. "They may not."

Anna finished the last of the wine in the mug and let it rest on her stomach. "I'm feeling better. We could leave tomorrow.

"The day after. Tomorrow ... you walk around the camp. You a.s.sure all you are recovered. That, too, you must do." Jecks stood. "I need sleep. So do you."

"Thank you..." Anna said quietly.

"You are my lady." Jecks nodded and slipped out of the tent and into the late twilight.

For a long time, Anna lay there, eyes seeing faint double images, double shadows from the lamp, her head aching, thinking.

Thinking... about Kaseth, and Jecks, and even Dencer and Darksong, and Clearsong.

I can't use a loyalty spell, but I can kill an entire keep?

It wasn't fair.

Is life ever fair?

She closed her eyes, but the questions didn't vanish.