Darksong Rising (52 page)

“Thank you, Regent. They played well, and it was hard to play against the Darksong drums.”

“I know. You... and they... will be rewarded.”

Liende bowed slightly. “We will make ready, Regent."

“Thank you.” How long could she call upon the players for such destruction? As long as you

need them... and you can. She sighed to herself.

53

In the cool sunlight and long dawn shadows outside her tent, Anna stretched. Her neck was still

stiff, and her shoulders ached, but not so much as the day before. The pungent odor of the wood

fueling cookfires drifted to her, and she rubbed her suddenly itching nose, then tried to clear a

dry throat

On the lower rise to the south, lancers were beginning to form up, and behind her Kerhor and

Blaz were beginning to strike her tent.

She glanced at Rickel. “If we... if I... let those armsmen return to Dolov, battles will go back and

forth across Ebra for years. That will be an invitation to the Stuninnese. With the maybe

twentyscore lancers we have, we cannot stop them without sorcery.” Anna shrugged, unsure if

even she were willing to spell out the conclusion.

“My lady,” Rickel offered cautiously after a short silence, “armsmen have choices. We do. We

are not slaves. That is why many remained with Hanfor and Himar. That is why some captains

have but butchers and fresh-faced boys. We have followed this Ceorwyn for two days, and none

of his armsmen have left. They will fight... and fight—unless you stop them.” The blond guard

offered an embarrassed smile. “Some armsmen are going to die. Might be Hadrenn’s, probably

will be if you don’t do something, and it might be ours if the Sea-Priests do like they did in

Dumar..." He broke off as Jecks walked toward Anna from the back side of the tent.

“Best you not slaughter those armsmen without some gesture,” Jecks said. “Ceorwyn did leave

the field.” The white-haired lord looked toward Rickel. “Would you not say so, Rickel?”

“Folk like that... they’d never take terms from... a sorceress.”

“You mean, from a woman,” Anna replied.

Jecks laughed, easily. “Always the truthful Regent.”

“So I should offer terms,” asked the sorceress, “knowing that they won’t accept them.” If they

do, they’ll just lie about it, and you’ll have to come back.

“They may not, but do you wish all Ebra to know you killed armsmen without offering any

chance of surrender? Or some of the Thirty-three to know that?”

“No.” Anna glanced toward her small camp table and the saddlebags on the cot, standing under

just the roof canopy since her guards had removed and begun to roll up the sidewalls. “There’s

some parchment... I’d better draft them on the rough paper first.” She laughed, knowing that

she’d make a mess with a quill.

“I will tell Himar that we needs must send a parley messenger to Ceorwyn.” Jecks gave a brisk

nod before turning.

Anna pulled the campstool toward the table, and took out the quill to sharpen it.

The drafting was as laborious as she had feared, and Jecks had returned and was standing at her

shoulder long before she finished. All too conscious of his presence, she found herself scratching

out phrases and rewriting them, seemingly in every line of what she penned.

Her forehead was damp when she finally finished what she thought were the last words.

Then, with a deep breath, she forced herself to read over the oft-corrected terms, skipping from

line to line.

 
...continue as arms commander of Dolov, as regent for the heirs of Bertmynn...

 
...acknowledge Lord Hadrenn as Lord High Counselor of Ebra, under the protection of the

Regency of Defalk...

 
...acknowledge, accept, and protect the free state of Elahwa established by the freewomen...

Finally, she handed the terms to Jecks.

He took the rough draft and read slowly before finally stopping and looking up. “He will not

agree to the women in Elahwa.”

“I know that. But those are my terms. What’s the point of agreeing to another lord just like the

last one? All sorts of people get killed, and nothing changes? No, thank you.” Anna snorted.

“You have offered terms, and you do not ask for executions or slaves.” Jecks offered a broad

shrug.

“Your tone of voice suggests that those might be more acceptable.”

“For some, perhaps,” Jecks agreed. “I would prefer your terms, but, then, I have come to know

you.” His hazel eyes offered the slightest hint of a twinkle.

Anna responded with a crooked smile before she pulled out one of the few sheets of parchment

and began to write, far more carefully, the final draft. Jecks nodded, then walked out of the half-

disassembled tent, and toward Kinor and Jimbob, who stood waiting with Kerhor and Lejun.

“...will not be long... she drafts terms for Ceorwyn..."

“He should ask for terms,” said Jimbob.

“He will not,” countered Kinor. “He cannot.”

Anna pushed away the conversation and concentrated on the scratchy quill and the draft,

laboriously transferring one word after another. She ignored the muted clamor from the camp as

mounts were saddled, cookfires banked, and as her guards disassembled and packed her tent

around her, leaving but the table she worked on and the stool.

It took a good glass before she had completed the short document. When she looked up from

writing her signature and title, Jecks was waiting, patiently. So was Himar. Behind them, in the

cool harvesttime sunlight, stood the two young redheads.

“I have told Himar that you were near-finished, and he has the lancers ready to ride.” The white-

haired lord smiled sadly. “No Ebran can accept terms and remain as a leader. So we must arrive

most close to Ceorwyn’s forces. We must be prepared for battle when he sees them and rejects

them."

“You still believe he will attack?” asked Himar. “After the last... battle?”

Jecks offered a wintry smile. “He may choose to retreat, in order to preserve his forces. Or to

obtain days or seasons to rebuild. But..."

Anna understood the pause. You can’t afford to spend days or weeks chasing Ebrans northward

along the river—not with Rabyn poised to invade Defalk as soon as he learns you’re in Ebra—if

he hasn’t already. Except the glass had only shown

Rabyn on the march, and not clearly in Defalk. Not yet.

Anna stood, and Blaz stepped forward to take the stool. while Kerhor glanced at the quill and

inkstand.

“You can pack them,” Anna said, extending the scroll to Himar “I'll get Farinelli ready, and..."

She shrugged. You’ll use more sorcery because no one seems to respond to anything besides

sorcery and armsmen... and armsmen will die needlessly because Ceorwyn will not accept terms

from a woman or women as people.

“We are ready to ride, lady.” Standing on the trampled grass, with the ends of his mustache

drooping, Himar inclined his head, portraying almost a caricature of the professional soldier

knowing that politics would result in armsmen being kilIed. Unnecessarily killed. But how

necessary were so many killings?

“I’ll be ready as soon as I can be." Anna turned, looking toward the tielines, where Kinor and

Jimbob stood by mounts aleady saddled and packed. Liende and the players stood by their

mounts as well, to the right of the two young men.

Anna stepped toward the chief player. “Liende.. . Lord Jecks thinks that this Ceorwyn will reject

my terms. We’re only asking that Hadrenn be a regent over Ebra. Lord Bertmynn’s heirs will

retain most of their lands, but I will insist that the freewomen hold Elahwa.”

“I fear Lord Jecks is right, lady.” Liende’s voice was level.

“If he is, we will need the flame song as soon as he rejects those terms.”

“We are your players, lady. We will be ready with the flame song.”

“I’m sorry.” Anna paused, then added, ‘Thank you."

Liende bowed.

As Anna turned and walked toward Farinelli, the gelding whuffed and tossed his head. “I know.

Everyone else is getting saddled and ready to go. You afraid you’ll get left? Or just telling me to

get on with it?” She patted his shoulder.

After saddling Farinelli, Anna folded her jacket and wedged it under the straps of the saddlebags.

As she mounted the big gelding, she realized that all the others still wore jackets, while she had

on but her shirt and vest. It was cool under the clear sky, but not that cool.

“How far?” Anna eased Farinelli up beside Himar’s mount, half-amused as her guards and the

two young men jockeyed their mounts around behind her.

“Five deks. They have not broken camp. Not a glass ago.” Himar offered a lopsided smile. “I

sent a scout as messenger saying to say that you were readying a message for arms leader

Ceorwyn. Best that we not have to chase them, if it be possible.”

‘Thank you. That was a good idea.” Anna nodded. She should have thought of something like

that. Even after more than a year, there were so many aspects of being a regent she still had not

grasped.

The sorceress-Regent turned Farinelli and rode back to where Liende sat upon her mount. “Chief

player...?"

“We are ready, lady.”

“When we reach Ceorwyn’s forces, we’ll ask for terms. If he rejects them, I may need the

players immediately. The flame song,” Anna reminded Liende.

“As you said, lady, the flame song."

“Thank you.” Anna nodded and turned Farinelli back toward the head of the column. She felt