Secca stood on the rear steps of the guest quarters in Encora as Wilten and the two additional companies of lancers rode up the drive between the boxwood hedges toward the guest quarters and barracks. Leading the column was a squad of Ranuan lancers in blue, not the SouthWomen, although the last company in the column wore the crimson and blue riding jackets of the SouthWomen.
In the late afternoon, a chill winter sun tried to break through the white and hazy clouds that covered most of the sky like a thin layer of gauze. Secca could see Clearsong for a moment, before a heavier and grayer cloud obscured the larger moon.
As the first squad of Ranuan lancers turned aside, Wilten rode to the steps, where he reined up and half-bowed from the saddle. “Lady Secca.”
“I am most glad to see you, Wilten.”
The overcaptain bowed again. “And I you, Lady Secca.”
“How was the journey?”
“Longer than one would like, but the weather was mild. The air to the north is warming, and spring may come early.” The overcaptain smiled politely.
Secca returned his smile with one equally pleasant. “We need to discuss some matters—once you have the companies settled. If you and Overcaptain Alcaren would join me, we have much to do, and little enough time in which to accomplish it.”
Behind Secca’s left shoulder, Richina nodded.
“A half a glass, lady?” asked Wilten.
“I will await you. My chambers are located as they were in Elahwa.”
With a bow, Wilten turned his mount toward the barracks.
“He is worried and tired, lady,” offered Richina as the two sorceresses reentered the building.
“Are not we all?” asked Secca, dryly. “The rebellion worsens in Neserea. The Sea-Priests will hold all of Dumar in a season if we do not act. We must use great sorcery in a land that has already once been prostrated by it, and that land is our sole ally willing to offer more than mere words of concern.” She glanced at Richina. “I would like a moment to myself. If you would escort the overcaptains…?”
“I would be happy to do so.” Richina inclined her head.
Secca turned and walked back through the arched door and along the corridor to the stairs, then up to her guest quarters, nodding to Dymen as she entered. Once inside, she walked to the working desk, reaching down and lifting the goblet. The water was warmish, but cleared her throat.
For a time, she stood alone in the main chamber of the guest quarters, looking toward the harbor where sailors swarmed over the mast of one of the vessels there while they worked on the rigging. Several more ships had appeared from their previously hidden anchorages or ports to tie up in the main harbor, and on all sailors toiled, making ready for the voyage ahead.
Secca wondered if the sailors did not feel a greater surety in the future than did she, with all the unknowns that surrounded and faced her.
“Overcaptain Wilten, Lady,” called Dymen. “And Lady Richina and Overcaptain Alcaren.”
“Have them enter.”
Wilten stepped into the guest chamber, his tired eyes avoiding the stack of brown paper on one side of the small round conference table. He took three steps forward and bowed. Behind him followed Alcaren and Richina, who offered bows in turn.
“I will not keep any of you overlong. Especially you, Wilten. You have had a long journey, and the one most recent.” Secca did not seat herself.
“As you must, lady.” Wilten frowned, and his eyes did not quite meet Secca’s.
Alcaren’s eyes betrayed no surprise, and Richina merely watched Secca.
“You must know that we are going to try to use sorcery against the Sturinnese. I met with the Matriarch, and we have come up with a plan. A sorcerous plan.” Secca looked directly at Wilten.
“I can see no other way, lady. That troubles me.”
“We must strike against their fleet. That was the only way in which Lady Anna drove them from Liedwahr, and it will be the only way in which we can do the same.”
Alcaren nodded.
“You know, Lady Secca,” Wilten said carefully, “that their ships do not come near the shore, and this will be even more so now that you have destroyed those few of shallow draft that challenged you in the Gulf.”
“I know. The Matriarch is providing us with ships.”
“As she should,” said Alcaren.
“Could she not just provide the ships to carry us to Dumar?”
“She does not have enough ships to protect us from the warships of Sturinn. Also, that would not destroy the Sturinnese fleet,” Secca pointed out.
“I see that.” The older overcaptain’s voice was cautious.
“I intend to take but one company on board the ships—and without mounts. They will be there to protect me and the players and Richina.”
Wilten’s eyes flicked to Alcaren, then focused on Secca. His brow crinkled.
“To ensure that all works as it should, we will be preparing to load all lancers the day after tomorrow with their mounts.”
“All lancers?” asked Alcaren.
“You will take but one company, but we will prepare to load them all?” followed Wilten.
“Yes.” Secca nodded. “The Sturinnese have scrying glasses. They will doubtless be watching us closely now that you have arrived. The weather is fair, and the winds would favor us. So they will expect us to act quickly, and that we will.”
“But they will watch you, and if you do not board a vessel…”
“We all will be boarding vessels—very carefully. The Sturinnese will doubtless use sorcery to create much disruption in the channel and upon the sea. Their great sorceries are much like mine, and cannot be repeated quickly, and that is when we will strike—with sorcery.”
“Perhaps I am overly tired, but if you would explain…” said Wilten.
“We will begin to load the vessels. It is likely the Sturinnese will send a great wave down the channel and into the harbor to destroy ships and delay our departure. The channel is too shallow for a great wave to travel far, and it will break far away from the harbor. There will be flooding, perhaps water several spans deep in the streets, even a yard deep. That sorcery is like great battle sorcery and will tire greatly both the drummers and the Sturinnese sorcerers. When the water from that great wave retreats, I will board the largest of the Ranuan ships, and we will take sorcery to their fleet. They will believe, we hope, that I am traveling to Dumar to stop their conquest. That is why Richina and Alcaren will be with me, and why you will prepare the remaining lancers as if for an overland ride.” Secca shrugged. “That is the plan.”
“And you will take but one company with you?”
“That way, it will look as though I am trying to reach Dumar in desperation. Also, there is little point in hazarding the lives of brave lancers to no end,” Secca pointed out. “If I am successful, we will return and embark all within a few days. If I am not, you will return all the lancers to Loiseau when the weather permits and await Lord Robero’s commands.” Secca offered a broad smile. “I do not expect the latter, but I would be a poor sorceress-protector if I did not have orders for all possibilities.”
Wilten bowed. “As you command, though I would that you take greater protection with you. Another squad, at the very least.”
“I will consider that, and we can talk tomorrow, when you all have had a chance to consider these plans.” Secca smiled again.
When the door closed behind the three, the warm and enthusiastic smile faded from the lips of the sorceress as she turned back toward the conference table, and the spell that lay there, underneath a plain sheet of heavy brown paper.
Secca disliked the expansion of the shadow sorcery, but the songspells involving poisons, such as the one she had used against Mynntar and his captains, required more of the crystals than she had carried with her. Likewise, using a variant of the flame spells would prove too exhausting.
She bent over the table and uncovered the words of the spell Anna had written years earlier, reading the opening lines slowly. “Infuse with heat, and turn to steam, the water…”
Shaking her head, Secca paused. When Anna had explained how the spell worked, Secca had been horrified—but, horrified or not, she could see no other alternative for what needed to be done. Secca needed the Matriarch’s support, and the Matriarch needed the ships, and both knew the Sturinnese needed to be stopped, and that could not be done without great sorcery—and more ships for Ranuak.
Secca straightened and looked, bleakly, toward a setting sun that was turning the hazy clouds into a bloody pink froth.