Darksong Rising (66 page)

and picked up the lutar case and opened the receiving-room door.

“I understand the pages”—Rickel grinned without looking at either Ytrude or Cataryzna—”let

you know that Blaz has relieved young Tiersen.” Rickel’s smile dropped as he gestured to the

swarthy and stocky man at the other side of the receiving-room door. “This is Fielmir. He was in

the purple company. Overcaptain Himar thinks highly of him.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Fielmir.”

The black-haired guard bowed. “I will do my very best, lady.”

“We all do,” Rickel said.

“I’m sure you will”

The two followed her up to the scrying room where, outside the door, Jecks waited.

“You requested my presence, Regent.” Jecks’ voice was cool. Anna supposed she deserved the

chill. “I did. I wanted you to help me when I use the pool to see what I can discover about

scheming before we decide what to do about Rabyn. And how quickly I need to leave Falcor.”

As she opened the door and stepped into the room that held the scrying pool, she gestured

vaguely toward the unseen sky. “If this rain continues, I may not have much choice.”

“The rain will pass. One can see the lighter clouds to the east.”

“I hope you’re right.” She let Jecks close the door. “I’m going to try to see if the pool will tell me

who else might be scheming against us. Before leaving Falcor.”

“After yesterday, that would be wise.”

Anna eased the lutar from the case and began to tune it. “What about your neighbors?”

Jecks frowned before he spoke. “Clethner will not scheme against you, nor will Vyarl. I would

not trust Genrica so far as one could hurl a mount with one hand, although it is said he is most ill.

Fustar.. . I do not know well.”

“Well.. . we’ll see.” Anna took another deep breath before launching into the scrying spell.

Those in the Thirty-three

who plot and scheme against me, show them now and show them clear...

Six separate images appeared. Anna just looked. Six! Was she that poor a Regent?

Even Jecks scowled.

“Do you recognize any of them?” asked Anna.

“That... that is Lord Fustar, and there is Lord Genrica of Wendell, and Lord Tybel... there, I

think...”

“That’s Jearle, and there’s Ustal. And Klestayr.” Anna paused to study the images before adding,

“I think you’re right about that being Lord Tybel..." She pointed to the image of a man with

frizzy hair that was half henna brown and half gray. “He looks like Anientta.”

“I have not met the woman, and Tybel but once when he was far younger.”

“Six of them.” Anna shook her head. “I’m trying to make this country safe for everyone,

including the lords. They don’t seem to care. I’m attacked in the country’s liedburg, and there are

six more lords standing in line to do something else.” The way Defalk operates... there won’t be

any Magna Carta... no privileges for the lords... except you're sounding Like a tyrant yourself.

She turned to Jecks. “What am I supposed to do— replace every fucking son-of-a-bitching lord

in the entire land?”

At the vehemence of her words, perhaps its obvious crudity, even Jecks swallowed.

“I’m risking my life, your life, the heir’s life, and all people like Dannel and Genrica—yes, I’ve

heard the stories—all they want to do is screw every available woman in sight... and grab every

piece of land they can, and they’ll do it even if it means that it will tear the country apart..."

“Men are not...”

“No! It’s not just men. There are just more of them in power,” snapped Anna. “Anientta’s every

bit as bad, poisoning her consort, and probably trying to do the same to her father. You people

deserve a frigging tyrant! An Evult or a Liedfuhr! You deserve the Wicked Witch of the West."

She found herself glaring at Jecks. She didn’t like that, and she sighed. “It’s not you.”

“Mayhap..." Jecks drawled out the word. “Yet... if you would change Defalk, best you

understand why Dannel attacked.”

Anna forced herself to take another deep breath. “Go ahead. Tell me.”

“You destroyed all hope for his son.” Jecks held up a hand. “Hoede is the third or fourth in line

to hold Mossbach . . . under the old way of inheriting. If he consorts with Lysara, there would

always have been the chance for him to hold Abenfel. It would not be a great chance, but a better

chance than becoming Lord of Mossbach. You removed that chance, and struck at Dannel’s

pride by suggesting that a woman was more to be considered than Hoede.” Jecks shrugged. "That

is the way the lords of the north think—or many of them.”

“It’s that important..." Anna shook her head. “I’m not sure I’ll ever understand. He’d rather kill

me and have Defalk under that creep Rabyn than accept that his son is an incompetent thick-

skulled dunderhead?”

“He can accept that," Jecks replied. “He cannot accept that you would place the good of any

woman above that of his son.”

“My son the dunderhead, right or wrong... is that it?"

After a moment, Jecks smiled sadly. “Yes... you have the right of it.”

Anna looked down at the still waters of the scrying pool. She shook her head. “All right... I’ll

send a scroll to each of those idiots, suggesting that I know they’re plotting against me, and

suggesting that my rule is that their lands will stay in their families—unless there’s treason... but

that I will consider their daughters on the same terms as their sons... and that they had best accept

it.”

“I would suggest that you send those scrolls after you deal with Rabyn.” Jecks’ voice was

sardonic.

Anna laughed harshly. “Deal with the more important problems first? You’re right.” She sighed

once more, conscious that she was sighing all too much. Was that Defalk—or her? “What about

Lord Dannel’s lands and heirs? Do I send out a proclamation? Or confiscate them?”

Jecks offered a grim smile. “Do nothing. Let all of them wonder. You have destroyed all of his

heirs—his sons. If you explain, they will think you weak. If you seize the lands and hand them to

another, you must enforce that at this moment.”

The Regent nodded. “You’re probably right about that... and about Lord Dannel. It’s just so hard

for me to believe that people believe that crap." She shook her head. “Lady Essan rode to battle

with Lord Donjim. Women run the entire land of Ranuak; and probably half the counselors of

Nordwei are women. How can these...idiots... believe that women are less capable? So much that

they would die rather than accept it?”

Jecks shrugged. “Mayhap once I did, but a daughter I had, and stronger than her consort.”

“I liked Alasia,” Anna said quietly. Then she stepped forward and hugged the handsome white-

haired lord. “I’m sorry. You’ve been good to listen to me."

Jecks squeezed her back, then gently released her. “I would listen to aught you say.”

She looked into the warm hazel eyes. “Thank you. You know... I do listen to you, too. It’s just

hard, sometimes.” Especially in this crazy place.

The smile she received took all the chill out of the damp scrying room.

70

In the dampness of late morning, Anna stood on the old raised stone platform that backed up to

the outside of the south wall of the liedburg, looking out at Jecks, Jimbob, and the pages and

fosterlings to her right—except for Lysara—and to the lancers and officers arrayed to her left.

Behind the lancers waited nearly two dozen older men and women—and perhaps three young

women—sisters or consorts of the slain. Before her were the newly filled graves, almost fifty of

them set behind the five rows of far older graves. Behind her were all her guards, each wearing a

black sash.

Anna herself wore a black vest, instead of the green or purple of her office as Regent. While she

had vaguely known there was a cemetery behind the liedburg, she certainly hadn’t wanted to find

out more about it, not so soon nor for so many.

She’d consulted with Himar and Jecks, as well as Tiersen, who, as the oldest of the fosterlings,

had some experience with death in Defalk, to find out what sort of ceremony would be

appropriate. For so many deaths in the liedburg itself, there had. to be a ceremony, both for the

dead and for the living.

After surveying those before her, Anna began to speak. “These brave men died in the cause of

harmony. They died fighting to defend what was dear to them and to us... and they helped to

preserve harmony and restore and maintain order and peace in Defalk. Because of their sacrifice,

we are here. Because of their skill, we can go on to build a better land for all of us.

“I wish their sacrifice had not been necessary, but prosperity and harmony have always required

dedication and hard work, and sometimes armsmen and even ordinary people die to maintain

harmony. For doing what needed to be done, they will be remembered. For their sacrifice, they

will be remembered. And for their inspiration, we must and will go forward with the gift of life

they gave the rest of us.

“In the name and the cause of harmony, now and ever."

The last part was more than true. Had the guards and lancers not held off the treacherous surprise

attack, then Anna would never have had time to turn her sorcery against the attackers.

Anna turned to the chief player and nodded.

“The dirge,” ordered Liende in a low voice.

The usually cocky Duralt was somber and, wearing a black tunic, stepped forward and lifted the

falk-horn to his lips.

The long and mournful notes filled the stone-walled cemetery and drifted beyond, to the

liedburg, and to the town itself.