"They will fight, and they will die. The Sturinnese will lose armsmen, and take vengeance on the city.

Bertmynn will rightly blame the SouthWomen, and wrongly blame Ranuak, and we will both suffer.

Hadrenn will lose more armsmen than he would need to lose. Eventually, the sorceress will be forced to act, and even more Ebrans, many of them women, will die."

"You know everything and do nothing."

''I persuaded the Exchange to grant credit to the lords of Defalk. Most supported the sorceress, and the three rebels fell quickly. She will feel compelled to act against Sturinn, and that will strengthen us." The Matriarch smiles coldly. "And women will not die, or few indeed, unlike the city's worth your rashness will kill."

Alya winces, then smooths her face.

"You have an answer for everything." Veria rises. "I should not have come."

"No, daughter, I am relieved you did come."

"You don't sound relieved." Veria steps back from the table.

"I am relieved," continues the Matriarch inexorably, "because, if you continue this foolishness, you will do so knowing I will not hesitate to treat you as any other."

"Matriarch and Mother, that I knew already. Good evening."

The three at the table wait until the door closes. Even after that, not a voice is heard.

74.

Anna pulled on her single simple green gown. Her stomach growled, reminding her that after an afternoon of riding along the Great Chasm, a canyon that certainly deserved its name, she was more than ready to eat. The Falche almost reminded her of the Colorado, winding through steep cliffs, except that the rocks were more like the granite of the Black Canyon. And all that water flowed into Dumar There ought to be something...

Thrap!

"Yes?"

"A message for you, lady."

Anna frowned-more scrolls from Falcor? Her eyes went to the scrolls on the writing desk as she walked barefooted to the door of the bedchamber. "Rickel?"

"Yes, Lady Anna?"

"A message?"

"A message from Dumar, Lady Anna."

Anna opened the door.

Rickel stood there, flanked by Blaz and Lejun. "The messenger arrived here less than a tenth of a gla.s.s ago. Alvar took the message and sent it with me. The messenger insisted that someone write a scroll that the message had been delivered to the regent. Lord Jecks is writing such now." Rickel extended a scroll wrapped in gold-and-red ribbon.

"Please have someone find Hanfor and Lord Jecks- once he's finished with writing that scroll for the messenger. I'll need to see them both." Anna took the scroll.

"Yes, Lady Anna." The blond guard bowed.

Anna closed the door and walked into the "work chamber," sifting down at the conference table used so many years earlier by other sorceresses. She broke the ornate red-wax seal and unrolled the missive. At the bottom was another crimson seal over crimson-and-gold ribbons.

While she waited for Jecks and Hanfor, she began to read the scroll, slowly.

To the Regent of Defalk, With felicitations and wishes for a fruitful and peaceful year in our neighbor to the north...

Anna skipped through the dozen lines of meaningless flattery and well-wishing.

Insomuch as you have neither accorded Dumar nor the Lord of Dumar the honor due both. . . Insomuch as you have failed to satisfy the lords of your own land and to keep the peace... Insomuch as many of these lords appealed to Dumar for aid in restoring time-honored ways and customs and order to their lands. . . Dumar will stand ready to a.s.sist you, to offer counsel and advice, and to ensure that Defalk's borders remain in accord with the ancient traditions ... but in view of the great and grievous harms done to Dumar, and to the honor of Dumar. - . such a.s.sistance cannot occur unless the Regency of Defalk were to indemnify Dumar for such harms. . . . Three thousand golds would be little enough, a bare pittance given the affront Dumar has suffered, however inadvertent such affronts may have been. . . for surely, as the Regent of Defalk may take liedgeld and honor from the lords of the Thirty-three, so also must the Regency bear the costs of the actions of its lords upon others, as well as the costs incurred by the acts of the regent.

Anna set down the scroll. . . waiting. Her eyes went to the window. She had her confirmation, but what could she do next?

Someone rapped on the door in the adjoining chamber.

'Come in," she called loudly.

After a moment, Jecks appeared, Hanfor somewhat behind his shoulder. "Lady Anna."

"Sit down." She handed the scroll to Jecks. "You were right. He's not about to admit wrong, and he cer- tainly isn't about to pay for the damage he's created."

"Most lords would not."

Especially not to a female regent. "Go ahead and read it. You, too, Hanfor."

Anna waited, still wondering how she could deal with Ehara. She couldn't keep shuttling between the south of Defalk and Falcor. She didn't have enough of an army- yet-to leave at Stromwer or Abenfel.

And she couldn't wage a conventional war-not conventional for Liedwahr, anyway-against Ehara. She didn't even have a way to wage guerrilla warfare against Dumar, and that was if she even knew how- which she didn't.

"He is most offended." Jecks pa.s.sed the scroll to Hanfor.

"Let me understand this," Anna said quietly, trying to keep from boiling over. "He sent golds and companies of lancers into Defalk to support an uprising, and he's upset that I called him on it? He's cost Defalk thousands of golds, and he's upset that I suggested he repay some of it? He's behaved dishonorably by trying to subvert the legitimate heir of Defalk, and he thinks I've dishonored him by having the nerve to say so?"

Jecks cleared his throat and looked at the polished wood of the table.

Anna waited.

"He does not believe that anything he has done is dishonorable."

"A lord like Ehara," added Hanfor, "believes that all he does is honorable, and that all anyone else does is not."

Anna couldn't see that much difference between Ehara and half the lords of Thirty-three in Defalk. "So how do we convince him? Or make sure that he stops meddling?''

"I know of no way, save defeating him in battle." Jecks frowned. "You have not enough armsmen even were you to call up levies, to carry the fight to him. This he knows."

"Some other show of force?" Anna wasn't sure what that might be, except the idea of affecting the river came back to her.

"Ehara may respond to no other force." The muscular lord shrugged fluidly.

"Do you wish to use sorcery?" asked Hanfor.

"The only kind of sorcery that I can think of that would be effective is the kind that kills people," Anna said. Are you sure?

Jecks shrugged.

"In other words, I have to find a way to slaughter most of the able-bodied armsmen in Dumar, or risk having, this tradition-bound idiot continually stirring up trouble in southern Defalk."

"I know of no other way. Even had you the golds he demands, to pay them would only encourage him to demand more.

Anna repressed a glare at Jecks. She'd already figured that out. She stood. "I need a few moments to think before dinner." And to cool off...if you can.

"As you wish, my lady. I would that it were otherwise," said Jecks, rising and bowing.

Hanfor just bowed. "Lady Anna."

She waited until the door closed.

Why? Why did it come down to how many people she could kill?

There had to be another way... there just had to be- some way to show Ehara that she was powerful and was withholding that power. Some way that didn't involve ma.s.s slaughter.

She started to look for her green slipper shoes, her thoughts skittering every which way, but always coming back to the issue of force.

As she slipped on the second shoe and straightened, her eyes went toward the Great Chasm. She frowned.

The Chasm was big; it had rock walls that looked st.u.r.dy, and it could hold a lot of water, maybe even as much as Lake Mead or Lake Powell, and they'd taken years to fill.

How would Dumar do without water?

She smiled. It's only an idea... but...

With a brisk nod to herself, she headed toward the door and dinner.

75.

Anna glanced toward the window and the bright morning light-much brighter than she felt as she glanced over Lord Ehara's scroll again. Hanfor glanced at Jecks, and the older lord glanced back. Both watched Anna.

"Before I do anything, I'd like to see how Lord Birfels reacts. That's why I summoned you. He should be here any moment."

"Yes, Regent." Hanfor nodded.

"He knew a messenger arrived yesterday," Jecks pointed out. "He may be unhappy he was not told sooner."

"He'll be the first to know, besides you two. That will have to do."

Both men fell silent, either deciding to see what happened or because of the chill in Anna's voice.

"Lord Birfels," announced Rickel.

"Have him join us."

"You had asked to see me, Lady Anna?" Birfels bowed as he entered the sorceress's work chamber, first to Anna, and then to Jecks and Hanfor. Hanfor and Jecks stood as he entered.

"Please sit down." Anna remained seated at the table, waiting until the ruddy-faced lord slipped into the chair opposite her.

"Thank you."

"You are a lord of the Thirty-three, Lord Birfels." Anna smiled. "How do you feel about Lord Ehara of Dumar?"

'Lord Ehara?" Birfels frowned. "You have told how he sent lancers into Defalk. Before that... none scarce heard of him."

"Would you say that most lords of the Thirty-three would feel that way?" Anna's tone was almost idle.

"We have beard little of Dumar nor had to worry little in previous years." Birfels shrugged.

"Lord Ehara is beginning to give you good reason to worry." Anna extended the scroll with the crimson- and-gold ribbons across the table. "If you would read this."

Birfels began to read. By the time his eyes were halfway down the sheet, his normally mobile face was set in stone. Finally, he lowered the scroll. "He is most offended."

"Yes, he is." Anna forced a smile. "I'm a little confused. As I pointed out earlier to Lord Jecks, Lord Ehara has sent golds to support rebel lords in Defalk. He has sent lancers directly against the Regency, and against Defalk. I suggested to him that such was neither honorable nor proper and requested that he redeem his honor in gold. This was his response."

"It does appears...unusual." Birfels paused. "Many have seen the Dumaran lancers? The ones in Defalk?"

"Those in Dencer's keep and Gylaron's." Hanfor's mouth twisted into a crooked smile. "Those who were close to them at Suhl...perished with them."

Anna forced herself to remain calm, even as she could sense Birfels trying to rationalize how any lord of Dumar could be dishonorable.

"Ah... yes." Birfels glanced at the scroll again. "You did not mention this last night."

"1 wanted to think about it." So the most honorable Lord Birfels was watching the messenger, too.

"Outside of Lord Jecks. . . and myself"-Anna couldn't resist the reference to her own status as one of the Thirty-three of Defalk-"you are the first of the Thirty-three to see it."

"He may have been offended that you suggested his honor was not enough to back any pledge of...friend- ship." Birfels glanced to Jecks, as if looking for support.

"He may have been," Anna said mildly. "His actions have not been exactly friendly. He does not mention the Sturinnese officers who have apparently pledged great friendship to him and to Dumar."

"Sturinn is far across the ocean to the west." Birfels smiled. "Dumar has ports and trade. Defalk does not."