Darksong Rising (84 page)

Anna listened, but winter was definitely approaching, and the insect twitters and night birdcalls

of the summer and early fall had died away to nearly nothing. The only consistent sounds were

those of the mounts that carried her lancers westward.

Hanfor cleared his throat, easing his mount closer to Farinelli and Anna. “Regent Anna, here is

the turn... where the backup lancers will wait.” Hanfor had insisted on bringing two backup

companies of 1ancers, to leave them where the side lane split off from the main road, just in

case.

He was probably right, reflected Anna, but it was getting as though she had to have a small army

to go anywhere. Then, she probably did. “All right. Then we stop for a moment?”

“Yes.” Hanfor nodded, then called, “Lancers halt!”

The command was relayed through the darkness.

“Weylar!” ordered the arms commander.

“Ser.” A blond-bearded captain rode out of the dimness toward Hanfor and reined up, offering a

half bow from the saddle.

“You hold the fork here. If the Mansuurans should come with all their forces, ride after us. If a

small force should come, make sure none return. Otherwise, wait for us. We may be as long as

three glasses, and as brief as one.”

“Ser. As you command.”

“As the Regent commands,” Hanfor added.

“Yes, ser. Yes, Regent.”

“Thank you, Weylar,” Anna added. “I appreciate it, and we’ll try to be quick.”

“We’ll be here, Regent.”

“Thank you,” Anna said again.

“Green company, forward!”

The sorceress felt even more alone as the smaller group pressed on. Alone? Would you ever have

considered being with twenty men alone? Then, would you ever have thought that you would be

riding along a dark lane to rely on your voice alone to protect you against more than two

thousand men armed with lances and sharp blades?

“Lady... we should burn no torches from here on.”

“I agree.”

“If you will escort the Regent for a few moments.” Hanfor addressed the request to Kinor, and

his words were more order than question.

“Yes, Arms Commander.”

Anna glanced back, and could almost see Hanfor’s progress as torch after torch winked out.

Rickel and Lejun eased their mounts forward until they rode before Anna and Kinor. Both guards

had unstrapped the protective shields and now carried them on their forearms, but partly

supported by their lance-holders.

“Dark it is without torches or stars,” observed Kinor.

“It’s not too bad,” Anna replied. “At least, if we don’t run into anyone.”

Hanfor returned, easing his mount back into place on Anna’s left. “It will be slower this way, but

safer.”

Safer from attack, but let’s hope there are no huge potholes in this lane.

Anna began a series of soft vocalises, trying not to be too loud, but knowing she wouldn’t be

able to sing a spell,, even a single one, without at least some warm-up. Even so. it was a good

thing it was evening and not morning.

The riding was slower along the side lane that wound away from and yet paralleled the main

road, and Anna found herself straining her eyes to look past her guards and into the dimness

ahead.

“They do not know that this lane winds within a quarter dek of their camp, because of the wood,”

Hanfor said quietly. “Still, once you have done what you must, we need to ride quickly. They

will be most angry.”

Anna suspected that was an understatement. Still... she had to try to get the message across that

she was willing to be reasonable—and that those who wouldn’t see reason would see force.

“Regent.” Hanfor’s voice was low.

“Yes.”

“To the right, just above the trees.”

Anna followed Hanfor’s directions, looking uphill. They hadn’t been able to tell elevations from

the mirror scrying, but it was clear that the side road was a good twenty yards or more lower than

the low rise on which the Mansuurans had camped. There were several widely spaced points of

lights, fires, and other smudges of light wavering in the darkness. “That looks like their camp.

It’s a good thing we put out the torches.”

“Very good.” The hint of an ironic laugh colored Hanfor’s words. “Green company, halt.” His

words were low, but intense.

Anna dismounted and handed Farinelli’s reins to Kinor, then took the lutar from its case and

checked the tuning, fumbling more than she would have liked in the darkness. Rickel and Lejun

remained mounted, flanking her on each side, but leaving her a clear path toward the Mansuuran

camp.

"Bowmen... string your bows and stand ready,” Hanfor ordered. “Aim your shafts high and

toward the fires beyond the trees. Nock your shafts when the Regent begins to sing, and then

release them after you count to ten in a whisper. Remember, nock when she sings. Count to ten

and release.”

Anna faced the fires that suddenly looked all too close, despite the trees, the gully, and the hill.

Then, she took a deep breath and released it, lifted the lutar, began the chording, and then the

spell itself.

These arrows shot into the air,

the head of each must strike proud Relour there—

 
As the sorceress heard the thrum of bowstrings, she concentrated on the images and the last

words of the spell.

 
...and turn to fire, turn to flame

Overcaptain Relour, for all his fame.

The chords of the lutar and Anna’s voice died away. She slipped the lutar into its case, fastened it

in place, and climbed into the saddle.

Was there a flash of light to the northwest? Anna wasn’t certain, but there was no reason to try to

find out until they were back with her own forces, and with the players. Either they would face

the Mansuurans on the next day—or they wouldn’t.

“Are you ready, Regent?” asked Hanfor.

“I’m ready. Let’s go.”

“Green company, forward!” Hanfor’s voice carried tension, tension Anna could well understand.

She kept glancing back over her shoulder at the fires of the Mansuuran camp, but so far as she

could tell, nothing changed. If it did, she could not see it As she rode, she groped for the food

pouch, stuffing some squares of cheese into her mouth, and then some of the hard cracker-bread,

which she had to moisten with swigs from the water bottle in order to soften the stuff enough for

her to chew and swallow it.

But she had looked back often enough that, by the time they rejoined the other lancers at the

main road, her neck and shoulder were stiff.

“Weylar?” Hanfor called.

“Ready here, ser.” The subofficer rode forward into the light cast by the torch carried by the

lancer accompanying Hanfor and Anna. “Not a soul came down the road. Didn’t see a torch. Not

one.”

“Good. Have your companies fall in behind. Send a messenger up to me if you see any torches or

hear any riders."

“Yes, Ser."

Rickel and Lejun had dropped back behind Anna and Kinor. They had strapped the big shields

behind their saddles. Anna wasn’t sure how they managed to hold the shields for so long as they

did, but none of the guards had ever voiced a complaint.

“Do you know... if…?" Kinor finally asked.

“I think so. I don’t know. We’ll have to check in the mirror when we get back.” Anna yawned.

Youth spell or not, she was tired, and she probably wasn’t going to get much sleep. Not if Hanfor

happened to be right.

The ten-dek ride back to her own camp had taken forever, or so it seemed, and Anna kept

wondering when the sun would rise.

She slowly dismounted from Farinelli, removing the lutar and food pouch, and the water bottles.

Then she unsaddled the gelding, rubbed him down too briefly, and picked up the lutar and pouch.

She walked slowly back toward her tent. between Kinor and Hanfor, with Lejun and Rickel

following.

“We need to see what we’ll face in the morning."

"That would be best.” Hanfor agreed.

“All went well?” asked Liende as she approached the three, but with her eyes upon Kinor.

“So far as we know.” Anna had no doubts that the chief player was at least as concerned about

her son as about the results. “Join us. We’re going to find out.”

Fielmir and Bersan were on guard, waiting.

Anna nodded to the two, then stepped past them, into the small tent. “Let’s see." She lit the

candle on the camp table, then opened the case and removed the traveling mirror, setting it on the

table. Next came the lutar, which she had to tune once more, slowly because she was tired.

She glanced around at the three other faces, each as fatigued as she felt, before she started the

scrying spell.

Show us now, in place and frame,

he who bore Relour’s rank and name....

The mirror silvered and then reflected the candle beside it on the camp table, before darkening

and revealing another scene. A single man-shaped length of black lay stretched on the ground

beside a tent. Four guards formed a square around the corpse. Flickering shadows crossed the

area lit by a half-score of lancers bearing torches.

Anna sang the release couplet and sighed. “You were right. We’d better be ready early, you