Spellsong 02 - The Spellsong War Page 4

  "You are a bitch! Go ahead, flame me! See where that will get you!" Wendella lurched upright, words and spittle flying from her mouth.

  "Blaz—" Anna began. Lord, she wanted to fry the impertinent bitch, but she couldn't. That would have been within her rights, especially in Defalk, but it would have freed Dencer to wed someone else and to cause even more trouble.

  Blaz stepped forward, and Wendella backed away from the regent.

  "I'm going!"

  "No. You're not going. Not for a moment." Anna turned and riffled through the spell folder, until she had the sheet she wanted. Then she stood and took the lutar from its case, quickly checking the tuning.

  "No!" Wendella turned, then stopped as she saw Giellum at the door, behind Blaz.

  "Just see that she stays here," Anna said tiredly, taking the grease marker and altering the spellsong she'd once used on both Madell and Virkan.

  "You can't do anything to me. I'm a daughter of the Thirty-three."

  Anna continued to mark the margins of the heavy brown paper.

  "No!"

  "You want to go home to Stromwer. We'll be happy to make that possible." Anna glanced at the notations and hummed through the melody, once, then again. Then she lifted the lutar and strummed the chords.

  Wendella lurched toward Anna, for an instant before Blaz grabbed her.

  Anna began to sing.

  "Wendella wrong, Wendella strong,

  loyal be from this song.

  Wendella young, Wendella old,

  faithful be till dead and cold.

  "Consort of lord, mother of son,

  Woman of means, this be done.

  Treachery prevent to all this land

  with your cunning and your hand."

  "Nooooo…" As the notes died away, the dark-haired woman collapsed to her knees on the polished stones of the receiving-room floor. "No…" she sobbed, barely hanging on to the infant in her arms.

  Anna felt like she'd been shaken momentarily, and for a few moments, there seemed to be two images ot Wendella berore her, one colder somehow than the other.

  Forcing herself to ignore the strange reaction, Anna lifted the bell and rang it, then set the lutar on the chair beside the one she used. Even after the double image faded—something that hadn't happened to her ever before—her head ached. It had the few times before when she had used personal spells, probably because they were technically Darksong, and Darksong didn't always agree with her bodily harmonics—and probably would less and less, from what she understood. The strange double image confirmed that.

  Clearsong would have been easier on her, but it didn't work on people.

  "Yes, Lady Anna?" This time Skent was the page who peered into the room, his eyes going from the sobbing form on the floor to the regent.

  "Would you have a message sent to Lord Dencer that the lady Wendella and his son and heir are free to return to Stromwer at her and his convenience?"

  "Yes… Lady Anna."

  "If she has the coins for an escort, she may leave immediately. But draft a message for me anyway." Anna's eyes went briefly to Wendella. "And I'll need something to eat."

  Skent nodded and vanished.

  Anna shouldn't have yielded to her temper, but she was so tired of spoiled lords and ladies, some of whom were worse than the most ungrateful students she'd taught, and that was saying a lot. The headache had not subsided. In fact, it was worse.

  "Waaa…" The child in Wendella's arms began to cry.

  "You have killed me…" sobbed Wendella, cradling her son and struggling into a sitting position.

  "Why? Because I bound you not to betray me or Defalk? If that's so, Wendella, then you've admitted that my judgment of you and your lord is correct." Anna smiled coldly. "You're going home, and you'd better find a way to keep your lord loyal to the Regency and Jimbob. For your own sake, if not for Defalk's."

  "You are cruel… so cruel…"

  "I don't have time for games and intrigues." Anna nodded to the guards. "And I have even less for the people who attempt them. Good day, lady."

  A stone-faced Blaz took the dark-haired lady's arm and helped her to her feet. Giellum opened the door.

  Alone momentarily in the receiving room, Anna took a deep breath. Then she set aside the lutar, replacing it in its case, and refiling the spell in the folder.

  She massaged her forehead, then poured another goblet of water. Both Blaz and Giellum had been shocked. Had it been because she'd used sorcery? Or because she'd let Wendella live?

  She rang the bell again. Skent peered in.

  "Have Blaz and Giellum step in for a moment, please."

  The two guards stepped inside the receiving room, and the door clunked shut. Giellum swallowed. Blaz remained stone-faced.

  "I'm not upset or angry," Anna said quietly.

  Neither guard moved.

  "But I do have a question for you. Blaz… do you think I was too lenient on the lady Wendella?"

  "It be not my place to judge." The guard's voice was hoarse.

  "Giellum?"

  "I… How… would… ?"

  "I know." Anna sighed. "Anything you say would be wrong. That's the problem with being a ruler, even a regent. No one wants to tell you what they think. If they agree, it's flattery. If they don't, it's dangerous." She smiled wryly. "So I'll have to guess."

  Giellum swallowed again.

  "Giellum… you don't have to swallow."

  That got another swallow, and Anna wanted to sigh in exasperation. Instead, she continued. "The lady Wendella was extremely rude." She glanced at Blaz. "I think that's something we can all agree on."

  The wary look in Giellum's eyes, and the fractional nod from Blaz confirmed that.

  "In fact, after I spelled her, she as much as admitted that she and her lord Dencer were disloyal to the Regency. Did either of you wonder why I let her go?"

  The lack of reaction confirmed her guess.

  "You did, but you don't want to second-guess a regent. Think about this. If I had executed the lady Wendella, several things would have happened. First, Lord Dencer would immediately start telling everyone how I killed his wife and heir, and how I was out to take over all Defalk by replacing all the old lords. Then, he would be free to marry whoever he wants, possibly even some relative of Ehara of Dumar. This way, he has a struggle with his wife. If he kills her, and he may, probably with poison, it will take some time. I can certainly accuse him of proving his disloyalty, and I don't have her blood on the Regency. He might even get the message and become more loyal." She shrugged. "It's a nasty business, but the fewer disloyal lords and ladies I have to execute outright, the stronger Lord Jimbob's position will become."

  Blaz gave the slightest of nods. Giellum had turned pale.

  "You look shocked, Giellum. Ruling isn't all battles. A lot of it is positioning things so that your enemies look bad and unreasonable. Wendella and Dencer have been trying to make me look like the bitch of Defalk. We'll announce to all the lords that we are pleased to return Lord Dencer's consort and his heir to him and wish them both every happiness. It should confound just about everyone." Anna took a sip from the goblet. "And you can tell anyone you want what happened. I will, and there's no secret about it." In fact, I hope you do tell just about everyone.

  She studied the two, catching the hint of a smile in Blaz's eyes. Well, one out of two wasn't bad, and maybe the older guard could get it across to Giellum.

  "Do you have any questions?"

  "No, lady," said Blaz.

  "No… lady," added Giellum.

  No sooner had her guards left than Resor opened the door again. "There is a player here, Lady Anna. He says his name is Delvor."

  "I'll see him." No one else could, and at times like this she missed Daffyd. She really needed another player-master, but where would she find one?

  Blaz followed the would-be player into the receiving room and stood just inside the door, hand on his blade.

  The young man stepped into the receiving ro
om and looked down at the floor. Lank brown hair—too long—spilled across his forehead. His fingers were white where they clutched his violino case.

  "You… summoned me, sorceress." His thin voice trembled out of a thin face.

  "I requested players." Anna waited. Yes, she had requested players, from everywhere and even with the promise of a healthy wage. And this trembling youngster was only the second since harvest—two in half a season, when she needed a good dozen, if not more. The first so-called player had carried a falk horn on which he couldn't play "Come to Jesus" in whole notes. Anna's eyes focused on the youngster. "Are you interested in being a player for the Regency?"

  "Yes, lady." He looked down.

  "I take it that you are worried about playing for an unknown sorceress, but you need the coin even more than you worry?"

  The youngster just shivered.

  "What is your name, young player?" Anna hated it when she'd been given a name and didn't remember it, but she'd never been that good with names.

  "Delvor, lady."

  "Delvor, I don't eat players. I do pay them well, if they can meet my standards. That's a silver a week." She paused.

  "A silver… ?"

  "Take out that violino and play something for me."

  Delvor's fingers still trembled as he fumbled out the old and polished instrument. The trembling lessened as he began to tune the violino.

  "Anytime you're ready."

  Slowly, he raised the instrument and the bow.

  After the first unsteady notes, the short melody was clear. Delvor didn't squeak or shriek, and his fingering looked sure.

  From where he stood by the door, Blaz gave the faintest of nods. Anna wasn't so certain.

  "All right." Anna gestured for the violinist to stop. "How do you learn a new melody? Can you read notation?"

  The look at the floor answered that question.

  "I take it that you learn by ear?"

  "I can play what I've heard," the player answered. He swallowed. "Sometimes, I must hear it more than once."

  More than sometimes. Anna nodded, then cleared her throat. "I'll sing a short song—just the notes, not the words. Listen carefully. I'll want you to play it as well as you can."

  Delvor lowered the violin and bow and nodded.

  "La, la, la…" Anna sang the water spell melody. That couldn't cause any trouble, or not much, if it were passed on to others.

  Delvor cocked his head, listening.

  "Now… you try it."

  The player picked up the bow. All in all, Anna had to repeat the song more than three times before Delvor could basically replicate it.

  She wanted to shake her head. Still… he had been able to pick it up. She supposed he would have a use, if only as the equivalent of third or fourth chair, not that sorcerers' players were classified that way.

  "Delvor?"

  "Yes, lady." The player hung his head.

  "There is a great deal you do not know. If you stay here, you will have a lot to learn."

  Delvor licked his lips.

  "You may stay. You will receive a silver a week, and, until the rest of the players arrive, you will also be required to assist in other areas. Nothing heavy, but I may have you learn new skills or serve as a messenger. Do you understand?"

  "Where…"

  "There are players' quarters in the liedburg. You get quarters and food and the silver. Do you wish to serve the Regency?"

  Delvor went to his knees. "Yes, lady."

  Anna lifted the bell, and Cens entered.

  "Cens, this is Delvor, and he is one of the new players. He can have one of the small rooms in the players' quarters by the stables. I'd appreciate it if you'd get him settled. Then tell Dythya about him."

  "Yes, Lady Anna."

  When Cens and the player had left, she looked down at the table. There was another reason why poor Daffyd hadn't been able to find many players. Most of them didn't have any spines—except for those who'd already died at the Sand Pass or in the destruction of Vult.

  She sighed. Then, what player in his or her right mind would want to serve her when most of those who had were dead? Poor Daffyd—he'd been a good viola player who had helped spell her to Defalk and then served as her chief player, and he was buried under the lava of the volcano she had raised to destroy Vult and the dark Evult who had directed the darksingers of Ebra against Defalk. So were all of the others who had followed her to Vult. She sighed again. Get back to a problem you can do something about. . . maybe.

  She couldn't get supplies or move troops if the roads turned to mud every time it rained. She couldn't use sorcery to repair the roads without players and stones being carted nearby, and she couldn't have the stones carted except in dry weather. And she couldn't find enough players.

  Anna took a deep breath. She still hadn't paid that visit to the kitchens and Meryn. She might as well do that, before she forgot. The liedburg ran on meals as well as coins and arms.

  The ubiquitous Blaz followed her down the corridor and out to the section of the liedburg that jutted into the rear courtyard, almost standing alone—probably for fire reasons.

  Meryn stood at the far end of the huge hearth, with one of the oven doors open, easing a wooden paddle containing the dough that would be bread into the oven. At the table behind her, Jysel was plucking a just-scalded chicken, and other sodden birds lay beside the first.

  Anna waited until Meryn closed the oven door.

  "Oh… Lady Anna." The head cook's hands fluttered. Behind her, Jysel's mouth opened.

  "I don't have any problems," Anna said. "I've enjoyed your cooking, and I really liked the way you spiced the mutton stew the other night. It wasn't bland, and it didn't burn my tongue."

  The cook's hands stopped fluttering. "We do as we can, lady. But with so many mouths…"

  Anna held in a sigh. Like everything else in Defalk, the liedburg kitchen was probably overworked. "You could use another good cook?" She gave a smile.

  "I could use three, lady, not that there be three in Falcor I'd want." Meryn shook her head.

  "If you find one you would like to help you, let me know." Anna sniffed. "The bread smells good. I don't know how I'd manage without all the bread you've baked for me."

  "That be good." Meryn smiled. "Unlike some, you appreciate good food, and the folk who fix it." She paused. "Molasses for the dark bread, it be getting dear."

  Anna half nodded to herself. Everything was getting dear. "Once, a long way away, I fixed a lot of fancy meals." The sorceress offered a laugh. "And not with sorcery. But I had things that made it easier. I wouldn't want to try to cook in that hearth."

  "Takes watching, lady, that it does."

  "I'm sure it does." She glanced toward Blaz. "I wish I could stay longer, Meryn… Jysel… but I wanted to tell you again, personally, how much I appreciate all the cooking and the work."

  Both women bowed.

  Once back in the receiving room, Anna rang the bell even before seating herself at the worktable.

  "Find me Menares." '

  While she waited, she began to make a list—yet another of the endless lists that grew faster on the bottom than she could complete on the top.

  This list held the key roads from Falcor to the borders. Should she add molasses to the supply list?

  "Lady Anna?" Menares bowed. His eyes flicked away from her to the floor, then to the empty gilt receiving chair.

  "What did Tirsik say?"

  "The stablemaster will talk to the messengers, he and Captain Alvar. They should ride on the edges of the roads, and he will tell them where not to ride."

  "Good."

  "He also sent his thanks for the coins for the extra straw."

  Anna nodded. "I need you to find something else. Find me an artist. One who can do good sketches of bridges and roads and forts. There ought to be someone who can draw somewhere near Falcor. I'll pay him—or her." With the word "her," she thought of poor Garreth, who'd drawn her picture, and who had been killed merely
on a whim by Cyn-dyth while Anna had been saving the Prophet's armsmen.

  "Yes, Lady Anna." Menares' voice contained a resigned tone, the one that suggested she was being unreasonable or frivolous.

  "I'm not crazy," she snapped. "We need better—" She groped for a suitably impressive word. "—infrastructure here in Defalk, and that means roads and bridges, and since we don't have any dissonant builders and no coins, that means sorcery, and I need images for sorcery. Is that clear?"

  Menares nodded, backing quickly out of the receiving room.

  Once again, she was getting a reputation for being a temperamental bitch. Why couldn't they see? She wasn't even a military type, and it was obvious. Defalk was surrounded on all sides by potential enemies.

  With Blaz and Giellum following her, she left the receiving room and took the small service hall. Her boots echoed on the stones of the narrow passage. She opened the back door to slip inside the large hall that was being used as the de facto schoolroom for her pages and fosterlings. Trying not to sneeze, she remained behind the long tapestry and listened.

  Dythya was speaking.

  "Remember… the position of the numeral determines the amount of its greatness. In the first position, a six is just a six. In the second position, it is a sixty, or ten times greater. In the third position…"

  "Numbers different when they are in different places. New symbols! You confuse us. Why do we even have to use new characters for numbers? The old ones were fine," said Hoede, almost red-faced.

  "Once you learn them, using figures is easier," Dythya said patiently. "It is easier to check accounts, and to keep track of what you have spent."

  "You haven't told me why we must use different symbols for numbers."

  Anna decided to put an end to the discussion. She stepped out from behind the dusty arras depicting Lord Donjim's grandsire.

  "Lady Anna…"

  "Sorceress…"

  "I beg your pardon, Dythya." Anna nodded to the woman who was the liedstadt accountant, or the closest thing to an accountant.

  Dythya merely nodded, a faint smile playing around her lips.