Part 34 (1/2)

”It's a risk, but I'd think it's worth it. He's not going to invade Defalk, not with Bertmynn knocking at his door to the east.”

”I do not know,” mused Jecks. ”We know nothing of him.”

Anna could see that nothing she said would make much difference at the moment. Instead, she stood, Walked to the chest where the lutar rested, and began tuning the instrument. Then she stepped over to the mirror and lifted the lutar and began to sing.

”Those in Stromwer strong, those who'd do me wrong now show them in this silver cast and make that vision well last...”

Even before the notes died away, an image filled the gla.s.s. From what Anna could tell, well over two hundred large tents cl.u.s.tered below the walls of Stromwer-or whatever Dencer called his keep. A banner with a gold big-homed sheep or something similar poised on a peak, backed in crimson, flew from a pole amid the tents in what had to be a stiff breeze.

”Dumar-Ehara's banner,” said Jecks. ”Outside the walls. Dencer does not fully trust so many armsmen.”

Anna glanced at Hanfor, who stood and stepped forward, peering at the image. After a time, he nodded, and she released the spell.

”How many armsmen are there?” she asked.

”A hundredscore at least.”

”Most are from Dumar?”

”It would seem so.”

Anna raised the lutar again, and did the second spell song.

”Those in Suhl so strong, those who'd do me wrong...”

The next image in the gla.s.s showed a second keep, of stone and red brick. Below the keep's outer wall, nearly a dek from the wall, hundreds of men labored at an earthwork-or a mound. Beyond them milled several hundred lancers.

Anna snorted. She suspected another outsized crossbow would be mounted there, or something similar, with the lancers for distraction or cover.

”And here,” she asked after releasing the spell.

”Twentyscore,” suggested Hanfor.

Anna tried a third rendition, one for Lord Gylaron.

The image was equally clear-a gray stone keep with what appeared to be catapults mounted on the walls, and with armsmen on every wall.

Fighting lightheadedness, Anna set aside the lutar and reseated herself, taking a swallow of water and crunching through two already stale biscuits before she felt more steady. She still wasn't back to normal, and the world didn't seem to want to let her recover before rus.h.i.+ng in on her.

At the same time, Anna wanted to smile. She was one small woman who could do sorcery, a regent with perhaps three hundred armsmen, and the three southern lords acted as though she were the scourge of the earth-or Erde.

'Do you still want to turn down potential allies?” she asked. ”One that could not hurt us unless we were beyond help?”

”What do we gain?” asked Jecks.

Anna could see, once again, she was running against tradition. Defalk had always been the thirty-three lords within their mountain walls, and Jecks consciously or unconsciously was resisting any change.

”In time, we eliminate forever an enemy to the east.” That seemed simple enough. If she could co-opt Ebra in time. . . and do something about Dumar to stop the Sea-Priests. She shook her head. What was she thinking? Just about trying to take over large chunks of Liedwahr when they were practically under siege from every side.

Hanfor nodded. ”We have little to lose.”

”If you think best,” Jecks finally grudged.

”I'll write something, and then let you read it,” Anna said. ”You would know better what phrases would work best.” She offered a smile, and got a faint one in return. Lord, politics again, even with Jecks.

The white-haired lord nodded politely.

”We'll have to work out something to deal with Suhl,” she said.

”That would be wisest,” Jecks offered ”Something that will not endanger you.”

”I had figured on that.” Anna coughed again. ”Let's think about that. I need to take care of some things.

How about in another gla.s.s or so?”

After they left, she looked at the closed door, wondering once more how she'd ever gotten into the mess, or how everything she did seemed to hurt the best people.

Life wasn't ever fair. By all rights. Daffyd, who'd been loyal, supportive, and talented, should have been in charge of her players. He and the players who had supported her early on were all dead. Jecks'

daughter Alasia should have been planning the campaign that lay ahead, but she was dead. Lord Hryding should still have held Flossbend, and Anna didn't dare take the time even to investigate that mess.

In the meantime, at least, she could send a scroll to Flossbend, reserving her right to name another administrator in place of the b.i.t.c.hy Anientta for her spoiled son Jeron. That would keep Anientta from causing too much trouble, for now, anyway. She sighed, reaching for the parchment. At least, she could do that.

38.

MANSUUS, MANSUUR.

I have scrolls from both Nubara and from Rabyn,” Konsstin says wearily, his large right hand pus.h.i.+ng a lock of brown-and-silver hair off his forehead. ”Would that Kestrin were older.”

Ba.s.sil nods.

”I found Jyrllar too late, after Kandeth, and so my heir is younger than Rabyn. Would that he will be more perceptive and less vicious.”

The younger man nods once more.

”What do you think they say?” Konsstin leans back in the heavy silver chair, his eyes flicking toward the window to his right, and the gray clouds that seem to hover not far beyond the balcony.

”Neither is happy with the other?” suggests the raven-haired officer in the lancer's maroon uniform.

”Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant.” The Liedfuhr stands and lifts a scroll from the slightly smeared polish of the walnut suiface. ”The snake and the lizard, and they do not like each other.”

”You feared this,” Ba.s.sil says quietly.

”I feared it, and what we fear too often comes to pa.s.s. Is that because we fear it, and that fear becomes embodied in our lives?”