As she tried not to bounce in the saddle, Anna unfastened her jacket to avoid sweating under a clear sky and a midday sun that was almost summerlike. She reached for a water bottle and drank deeply. After replacing it, she stripped off the jacket, glad of the slight coolness remaining in the late morning.
“The mist worlds must be chill indeed,” said Falar, riding to her right, still wearing his heavy leather jacket.
“Compared to Liedwahr, they are … or mine was.” Anna peered eastward, but the road looked the same, winding around rises too low to be proper hills.
The Synor River Road had gotten more rutted and less traveled after they had passed the south road to Suhl, but when they had turned south on the trade road that led past Arien to Sudwei, the way had smoothed out again. But another day later, when they had turned eastward toward Arien, the road had quickly degenerated into a hole-filled and rutted country lane. Anna had checked the mirror twice to make sure they were headed to Arien, but the aerial view in the glass had confirmed it.
So she swayed in the saddle, with their progress slower than she would have hoped.
“Even my brother keeps better roads than these,” offered Falar, “and I thought his efforts poor indeed.”
“Fussen’s roads are much better.” Anna grinned. “I’m not so sure about its bridges, though.”
“My sire always said that bridges should be strong enough for wagons and weak enough to be removed in case you wanted to deny an enemy a crossing.”
“That didn’t stop the Prophet,” the sorceress pointed out.
“He didn’t think about sorcery. There haven’t been many sorcerers or sorceresses in the west since the lady Peuletar, and that was many, many years ago.” Falar added, almost conversationally, “They say that she was beautiful, too.”
“You’re very gallant,” Anna replied, half-pleased at the indirect compliment, but wanting that to go nowhere. “But you’re my son’s age, Falar.”
“My eyes do not see that, lady.”
“I said you were gallant, you rascal.” Anna watched as one of the scouts rode down from the long hill that they approached, then stopped to talk to Himar, who had ridden ahead of the main column with several lancers, if behind the vanguard. “The scouts have seen something.”
“Let us hope we are nearing our destination.”
Anna wasn’t certain about that.
Himar rode back from the head of the column, where he had been talking to one of the scouts. “Lady … once we reach the hills ahead, Arien lies in the valley beyond. How would you wish to proceed?”
“We’ll try the mirror again, once we get to the hilltop and can check what it shows us against what we can see and the maps.” She paused. “They didn’t see any armsmen, did they?”
“No, Regent.”
“Good.”
Once they had reached the hillcrest, Himar led the column about a third of the way down the steeper hillside before he brought them to a halt by a browning meadow, where a small stream crossed the road at an angle, leaving a muddy ford of sorts.
“They can water their mounts while you scry, if you would not mind.”
“That’s fine.”
Followed by Falar, Liende, and Himar—and Rickel and Blaz—Anna took the glass to the top side of the sloping meadow, setting it on a rock that was halfway flat. Then she lifted the lutar and began the scrying spell.
Show us now and show us clear,
how the ways to Arien do appear … .
Anna studied the mirror, then out eastward, and then back to the mirror. Just as Dvoyal, who had approximated a brother-in-law to Gatrune, Anna thought, had told her, Arien indeed lay in a valley, but unlike Stromwer there was no real barrier to approaching the keep, which lay just east of the small town. Rolling hills surrounded the gentle valley on all sides, hills partly forested and partly in brown-grassed meadows. There were few fields showing cultivation, and far larger grassy areas with dark shapes that appeared to be cows. A dairying region? Cheeses? Cheese kept, unlike milk, at least if you had cool cellars.
“Is Arien known for its cheeses?” she asked Falar, standing behind Himar.
“I could not say.” The redhead shrugged, apologetically.
“The best hard white cheeses come from Arien,” Liende finally said. “Some prefer the light yellow. Lord Brill bought the white.”
Anna forced her thoughts back to the most unpleasant
prospects of the action soon to be required of her and concentrated on the mirrorlike map. There was a knoll to the south of the keep—or a rise. Anna pointed, as Himar sketched, and asked, “Could we hold that hilltop for a little while if Lord Tybel sent lancers after us?”
“With your arrow spells … and if he has fewer than tenscore armsmen.”
“What if we circle to the south from here?”
“Word will reach him,” Himar observed. “There is little real cover.”
“He’s not expecting us.”
“And that will alarm him greatly.” Himar paused. “He may know already. The scouts saw riders hastening toward the keep.”
Anna suspected her arms commander was totally right about that.
When she finally released the spell, she took a deep breath, then picked up the lutar again.
Show us now and show us clear
Where Lord Tybel does appear … .
The mirror obligingly displayed a keep’s courtyard where armsmen and lancers in armor and with shields milled into a rough formation. In the center of the armsmen was a squarebearded and broad-shouldered man wearing what Anna would have called glittering half armor.
“This one will not wait behind walls,” Falar said. “Would that his brains equaled his courage.”
Anna wasn’t sure she agreed with that wish, either. She sang the release couplet and looked at Himar. “We’ll have a glass or so before he arrives?”
“Almost two.”
Neither doubted Tybel’s destination.
“Where would be the best place to spellcast on him?”
“The ridge ahead, just above the bottom of the hill,” Himar said flatly.
Anna turned. “Chief Player, I’ll need the long flame spell and then, if necessary, the arrow spell.”
Liende looked at Anna. “As the Regent commands.”
Anna glanced at Falar, then Himar. “I need to talk to the chief player.”
Both men stepped back.
“I will stand ready,” Himar said with a bow.
“I also.” Falar bowed.
Anna reached into her wallet and extracted the folded scroll from Tybel. She extended it to Liende. “If you would read this, Liende. Then I’d like to hear what you think.”
The chief player’s face looked like it had been chiseled from stone when she handed the scroll back.
“Now …” Anna said softly, “do you see why I don’t have any choice? If I let Tybel dictate how Defalk is run … nothing will change.”
Liende shook her head. “You would have taken nothing from him. He has sons. Even his grandsons would have held Flossbend …is that not so?”
“I wasn’t happy with them, but I wouldn’t have changed that,” Anna admitted. “Just like I didn’t unseat Ustal.” As big a chauvinist as he is.
“Because you would allow a few women to hold lands … he would torch all Defalk?”
Anna gestured eastward toward the distant keep. “He’s certainly acting that way.”
Liende fixed Anna with intent eyes. “How will you use the spell?”
“To kill anyone who supports Tybel and who also believes that women should be slaves.”
“Not to kill them all?”
“Not unless they keep attacking. Then I’ll have to use the full flame spell.”
Liende exhaled slowly. “You are as fair as the harmonies allow. I will have the players make ready once we reach the ridge.”
“I’m sorry.”
“They will be sorrier still, the hapless fools.” Liende’s eyes were bright with unshed tears.
Anna and her guards followed the player back toward their mounts, Blaz carrying the scrying mirror.