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Authors: Jr. L. E. Modesitt

Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Adventure, #Music

Darksong Rising (87 page)

BOOK: Darksong Rising
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sorceress, and Kinor and Jimbob.

 

“The scouts say that the Nesereans remain encamped where they have been. The ground is dry

another two deks ahead. Denguic is almost ten deks beyond where we would stop. Everyone is

tired—you most of all. To go on would risk danger to all.” Hanfor’s eyes were intent on the

sorceress as he spoke.

 

Anna surrendered. “As long as it’s dry—that’s fine. We can manage another two deks.” She had

to admit that even her cot sounded wonderful, and she wasn’t sure she’d felt that tired in a long

time. “And as long as it will be all right for the lancers."

 

“Everyone will be better just ahead than back in the rain,” Hanfor said. “But we all need rest.”

 

That Anna definitely knew. She nodded soberly.

 

 

97

 

Anna woke bolt upright at dawn, at the first hint of grayness coloring the dingy silk of her tent,

mumbling to herself
 
“Have to get to those lancers…. have to.”

 

She found herself shivering—and that hadn’t happened very often in Defalk. Her breath steamed

in the tent, and she shuddered from under her blanket into her clothes and her jacket. Then came

the boots, but donning them took longer because her fingers were cold, and the leather felt stiff.

 

When she did stand up, her shoulders and neck were sore. After stepping over to the camp table,

she slid out the traveling mirror and looked down into it. Her face was still pale, but without the

sickly flush of the previous day. And the circles under her eyes weren’t quite so pronounced, but

her cheeks were still hollow. “You need to eat more.”

 

Eating more was always a problem, first, because Avery had always been on her about her

weight, and, now, because field rations were always short. she always feel guilty about stuffing

herself. Putting off the eating question, she slipped toward the entry panel to the tent to reclaim

the bucket of water. Outside, in the predawn grayness, a thin rime of frost covered everything,

but there wasn’t a film of ice on the water, anyway.

 

Bersan and Lejun were the duty guards. “Regent.”

 

“Good morning.” she said as she reclaimed the bucket.

 

“Good morning, Lady Regent Commander Hanfor, he didn’t expect you’d be up so early,” Lejun

said.

 

“I’d like to see him and the chief player in a bit, if you’d get word to them,” Anna said.

 

Someone else had been watching her tent. Kinor came charging with a basket, the same one he’d

been bringing every morning, except this one was clearly overstuffed. “Mm—the chief player

said you needed to eat as much of this as you could."

 

“I’ll try, Kinor.” Anna managed to keep from smiling at the young man’s almost inadvertent

mention of the chief player as his mother. The sorceress slipped the bucket inside the tent, then

took the basket, noting that besides two loaves of bread, there were several apples, two wedges

of cheese, and two hard-looking biscuits.

 

She began with a chunk of bread and some cheese, and a bite of the firmer apple. Then she

washed her face, wincing at the chill of the water, but deciding against any sorcery that wasn’t

absolutely necessary. The recollection of the hollowness of her cheeks strengthened that resolve.

Alternating food and her minimal field toiletries, she found she had finished a loaf and a half of

bread, both cheese wedges, and an apple by the time she was halfway presentable.

 

She had no more pulled back the tent flap to signify that she was ready to see people when

Hanfor appeared, followed closely by Liende.

 

“How are the lancers?” Anna asked Hanfor, gesturing for both to enter, before inclining her head

to Liende, “And the players?”

 

Hanfor stood by the camp table and waited for the chief player to speak.

 

“The players are better, except for Yuarl. She struggles with a fever.”

 

Anna felt guilty. She hadn’t even known that the thin violino player had a fever.

 

“It was better that we found a drier place for her. She slept well,” Liende continued.

 

“I’m hoping that we won’t need the players for a few days,” the sorceress said. Or Longer. “We

might. . . but I’m still hoping. Can they ride?”

 

“Even Yuarl will ride.”

 

“We need to get to Westfort before the word spreads,” Anna said. “Before the Nesereans decide

they can leave.”

 

Hanfor raised his eyebrows. “Who might tell? None of the Mansuurans survived. Nor did any of

the Nesereans who were with Rabyn.”

 

“Jearle or the Nesereans might have a seer.” Anna moistened her lips. “You both know what I

have in mind. I don’t want to fight another war, especially this year. I want to talk to the

Neserean captain before he understands he has the largest force of armsmen left.” She frowned.

“That’s probably the largest body of armsmen in one place south of Nordwei and east of the...”

 

“The Westfels,” supplied Hanfor. “But they could not stand to your sorcery.”

 

“No armsmen can,” Liende added. “Not while you can sing and we can play.”

 

“If they would support Hanfor, it would make life in Liedwahr a lot more pleasant." Anna said.

And life in Defalk as well.

 

“They may not,” demurred Hanfor.

 

“You just don’t want the headaches you’ve seen me face,” Anna suggested, with the hint of a

smile.

 

“No armsman of judgment would, lady.” Hanfor snorted.

 

“still..." mused Anna, “we have to get it across that they’ve got a choice between a civil war or

an invasion by Mansuur if they don’t support you. Do they want that.”

 

Hanfor shrugged. “I would say not, but seldom do armsmen make such choices.”

 

“All we can do is ask” Anna glanced through the open tent flap toward the tielines where

Farinelli was tethered. “How soon before we can be ready to ride?"

 

“A half-glass, perhaps a bit longer.”

 

“Then let’s get started.” Anna paused. “I’d better talk to Lord Nelmor and Falar, too. I’ve

probably been neglecting them.”

 

Anna packed up saddlebags and mirror and was taking apart the cot when Nelmor and Falar

arrived. She motioned both inside.

 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been more careful to keep you both informed of what has been happening.”

She looked apologetic. “Sorcery takes a lot out of me, and I don’t always consider how others

feel. Especially people like you, who have been very supportive and helpful.”

 

“Regent,” Nelmor began, “you and your arms commander have been most courteous.”

 

“Most courteous, and with the strain you have faced,” added Falar, spoiling the serious words

with the hint of his smile.

 

“Thank you both." Anna paused. “There is one last group of Nesereans in Defaik. They’re

besieging—or camped around Westfort. That’s where we’re headed. It’s not even ten deks from

here.”

 

Nelmor nodded. “I had known we were close, but with the mist and the rain.”

 

“I’m going to try to persuade them to leave peacefully,” Anna said, “but I’d like you two to

accompany me, if you would.”

 

“For ten deks... to see the end of this war? After this whole season?” Nelmor shook his head. “I

would scarce miss that chance, especially saving that the journey back to Dubaria lies that way

as well.”

 

Anna looked to Falar.

 

The redhead grinned. “Fussen and Ustal would not welcome me any sooner.”

 

“Thank you both.” Anna inclined her head. “We’ll be riding out in less than a glass. I’m sorry I

didn’t let you know, but I didn’t know for sure until a bit earlier myself.”

 

“We will be ready, Regent, and glad of it," said Nelmor, smiling broadly.

 

Falar nodded.

 

As she watched the two walk away from the tent, Anna wanted to shake her head. She was

usually good at reading postures, and both men had seemed pleased. Why, she wasn’t certain,

but it was better to have done something right and not understood all the reasons why than the

other way around.

 

She looked at the remaining food in the basket and groaned, but she broke off another chunk of

bread and slowly chewed her way through it. “You can finish the bread... you can.”

 

The sun had barely risen when Anna guided Farinelli back onto the road westward. Rickel and

Lejun rode before Anna, while Hanfor rode beside her. Kinor and Himar rode behind them, and

Anna’s remaining guards rode between them and the players. The mounts’ hoofs echoed dully on

the partly frozen road clay, and the light and chill wind blew out of clear northern sky, so clear

that it seemed as much green as blue.

 

“It will be a long and cold winter,” predicted Hanfor. “Let’s hope it doesn’t start too soon.

There’s a lot I need to do before snow or freezing rain starts to fall."

 

“Regent—I fear there will always be more for you to do than glasses in which to do such tasks.”

Hanfor shook his head.

 

“Two years I have known you, and yet you find there is more that you must do, for all that you

have done, yet all Liedwahr is changed.”

 

Not near enough. “I haven’t done that much.”

 

Anna ignored the barely concealed snort from Jimbob, riding behind her.

 

“Some would say that you have all too much,” Hanfor responded, “those such as Lord Ehara,

Lord Behlem, Lord Bertmynn, Lord Rabyn..." A lopsided grin appeared.

 

“The names change, but not much else does,” countered Anna.

 

“More than you think, I would venture.”

 

“Much more," came a murmured assent from one of the two young men riding behind Anna.

Jimbob, she suspected.

BOOK: Darksong Rising
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ads

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