Modesitt, L.E. - Spellsong 3 - Darksong Rising

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DARKSONG

RISING

BOOK THREE OF THE SPELLSONG CYCLE

L. E. MODESITT JR.

ATOM DOHERTY ASSOCIATES BOOK

NEW YORK

To and for the sorceress

who made this all possible-Carol Ann

Note: If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this

book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to the

pubIisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for

this "stripped book."

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book

at either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

DARKSONG RISING

thereof, in any form.

Edited by David G. Hartwell

A Tor Book

Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC

175 Fifth Avenue

New York, NY 10010

www.tor.com

Tor is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC. ISBN 0-812-56668-8

First edition: October 1999

First mass market edition: January 2001

Printed in the United States of America

0987654321

CHARACTERS

Anna Regent of Defalk and Lady of Loiseau [Mencha]

Jimbob Heir to Defalk, and Lord of Falcor and Synfal [Cheor]

Hanfor Arms Commander of Defalk

Dythya Counselor of Finance

Essan Lady and widow of Lord Donjim

Herene Younger sister of Lady Gatmne [Pamr]; warder of Dinfan, heir to Suhl

Herstat Saalmeister of Synfal [Cheor] Menares Counselor

LORDS OF DEFALK

Jecks Lord of Elheld [Elhi] Lord High Counselor to the Regent

Birfels Lord of Abenfel; consort is Fylena

Cletliner Lord of Mordland

Dannel Lord of Mossbach; consort is Resengna

Dinfan Underage daughter of late Lord Sargol; heir to Suhl

Ebraak Lord of Nordfels

Fustar Lord of Issl

Gatrune Lady of Pamr

Geansor Lord of Sudwei

Genrica Lord of Wendel

Gylaron Lord of Lerona, consort is Reylan

Hryding Lord of Flossbend [Synope]; consort is Antenna

Huther Lord of Silbenfelt

Jearle Lord of Denguic

Klestayr Lord of Aroch

Mietchel Lord of Morra, brother of Lady Wendeila of Stromwer

Nelmor Lord of Dubaria consort is Delyra, eldest son and heir is Tiersen

Tybel Lord of Arien

Vlassa Lord of Fussen; heirs are twin sons, Ustal and Polar

Vyarl Rider of Hemnene

Wendella Lady of Stromwer

FOSTERLINGS AND PAGES

Alseta Daughter of Chief Player Liende

Barat Page

Birke Heir of Lord Birfels [Abenfel]

Cataryzna Daughter and heir of Lord Geansor [Sudwei]

Cens Page

Clayre Younger daughter of Lord Birfels [Abenfel]

Hoede Youngest son of Lord Dannel [Mossbach]

Kinor Son of Chief Player Linde

Lysara Daughter of Lord Birfels [Abenfel]

Resor Page

Secca Daughter of Lord Hryding [Flossbend]

Skent Page

Tiersen Son and heir of Lord Nelmor [Dubaria]

Ytrude Daughter of Lord Nelmor [Dubaria]

DEFALKAN ARMSMEN

Alvar Overcaptain

Himar Overcaptain

Jirsit Undercaptain

DEFALKAN PLAYERS

Daffyd Viola; first chief player

Liende Woodwind; second chief player

Delvor Violino

Duralt Falk-horn

Hassett Violino

Palian Violino

Yuarl Violino

OTHERS OUTSIDE DEFALK

Ashtaar Spymistress of Nordwei

Bertmynn Lord of Dolov, Ebra

Hadrenn Lord of Synek, Ebra

Konsstin Liedfuhr of Mansuur; heir is Kestrin; eldest daughter is Aerlya

Maitre of Sturinn Leader of Sturinn; master of the Sea-Priests

Matriarch Head of State, Ranuak; consort is Ulgar

Nubara Overcaptain of Lancers, Mansuur, stationed in Neserea as Regent

Rabyn Prophet of Music, Lord of Neserea; regent w Nubara

Siobion Widow of Lord Ehara; Regent of Dumar

Tybra Leader, Council of Wei, Nordwei

------------

LIEDFALSCH

-------

Anna readjusted her floppy brown hat and shifted her weight the saddle. Beneath

her, Parinelli, the big palomino gelding, continued his quick walk eastward

along the dusty road that ran south of the Chean River toward the former ford at

Sorprat. Anna glanced sideways at Himar, the sandy-haired captain-overcaptain

now-whose mustache drooped more than usual-perhaps from the road ~... perhaps

from sweat. Two of her personal guards flanked them-Eckel on her left, and

beyond and slightly back of Himar, Lejun. An overcaptain, personal guards-

sometimes it was still hard to believe that she was Regent and Sorceress of

Defalk, and Lady of Mencha

Less than two years earlier, she had been Anna Marshall, struggling assistant

professor of voice in Ames, Iowa, a divorcée mourning the death of her eldest

daughter. Then, a spell sung in Defalk and her own ill-uttered wish to be

anywhere but Ames had thrown her into the intrigues and battles of Liedwahr,

both colored by the ever-present male chauvinism, a chauvinism that so often she

seemed the only one to recognize, even after she'd survived three attempted

rapes.

Because the world of Erde was governed by the harmonies-and song magic that

worked-those snuggles she faced were more deadly than the faculty politics of

Ames. But only slightly, Anna reflected as she thought of the fate of untenured

and discarded junior faculty members at the universities where she had taught

over the years.

Th. late-summer sun had burned the back of her neck, despite her ever-present

felt hat, and the sweat that oozed from her hair added to the stinging. In her

green trousers and shirt, and floppy brown hat, she scarcely looked like a

regent. Only the gold-trimmed purple vest betrayed the slightest indication of

rank-that and her position at the head of the column that stretched a good

hundred yards behind her.

An older-looking woman with red hair liberally streaked with white rode up

alongside Himar, clearing her throat to announce herself.

Anna turned toward her chief player. "Yes, Liende?"

"Lady... the players are tired... especially young Delvor."

Anna glanced at the road ahead, rising slowly to a crest perhaps a dek away-

roughly a kilometer in earth terms-then back to Liende. "I suspect all the

armsmen are tired, too," Anna temporized, blotting the sweat from her forehead.

"Everyone can rest a little when we get to Sorprat I mean, this side of the

river. I think it should be only two or three deks from here."

"Four at the most," added Himar.

"It won't be that long," Anna promised.

"As you say, lady." The woodwind player nodded, then let her mount drop back.

The air was still, so hot that the browned gasses to the south of the road hung

limply in the heat. Road dust coated the legs of the horses, and a finer film

covered the riders' legs. Anna rubbed her nose, gently, wondering why she had

ended up breathing so much road dust. Because there wasn't any other way?

Himar eased his mount closer to Anna, his eyes on the pair of scouts nearing the

rise in the road almost a dek ahead. "I will be glad when you have completed

this task, lady," the overcaptain said in a low voice, "and you can return to

Falcor."

Anna nodded. Lord Jecks would also be glad when she returned, since the white-

haired and still-young-faced lord of Elheld had questioned the need for her

mission, even though he was the grandfather of young Jimbob, the heir to Defalk,

for whom Anna ruled as Regent. Regent for a youth not always grateful. Yet

you've used your sorcery for Jiinbob when you can't even use it to see your own

children.

She swallowed, her throat even drier than from road dust alone. Would she ever

be able to use the mirrors and her song magic to see Elizabetta again? Or Mario?

"Lord Jecks was concerned about this task," Himar added, unnessarily.

The blond-haired Rickel-head of her personal guard- smiled, if briefly, before

the professional indifference again masked his amusement at Himar's

acknowledgment of Jecks' protectiveness of the sorceress.

Anna hadn't realized how much she missed Jecks, but she'd insisted that he

remain in Falcor to heal from his wounds. In their efforts to drive the

Sturinnese out of Dumar, to save Anna he'd thrown himself into the enchanted

javelin hurled by the Sea-Priest of Sturinn. She still wasn't sure that she

would have been able to do something like that to save someone else-to die

immediate and selfless way Jecks had done to save her. She moistened her lips at

the memory.

Jecks had not been happy with her decision to leave Falcor- especially for the

ten days it would take, and he had been quite forceful. "I do not see why you

insist on riding out to Sorprat... you do not need a ford there. Not this year.

What crops there are come from the lower valley, and the peasants and farmers

can use the bridge at Pamr. For another year or so, there will be little enough

trade with Ebra. What there is can take the old road on the south side of the

Chean River."

Except that the old road adds almost two days travel to Mencha-and Ebra-and you

may need those days all too soon. In fact, her own journey to repair the ford

was on the old road, and even pushing, it would take a day more-but she knew she

needed to be on the south side to see what she could do to undo the mess she'd

made of the ford when she'd created a giant sinkhole to swallow the Ebran

invaders. And she felt that repairing the ford was necessary. She ignored solid

gut feelings at her own peril, and the ford's destruction had been nagging at

her for well over a year.

As she rode across the high bluff on the south side of the river, Anna glanced

to her left, northward out across the river, across the green valley that-

everywhere away from the irrigation ditches-had been brown and dusty little more

than a year earlier. She did not look forward to revisiting the site of the

battle with the Dark Monks of Ebra-except that it had been more of a slaughter

than a battle. Even under the hot sun of late summer, she shivered, recalling

the screams and the terrible grinding of the earth as her song-sorcery had

churned the muddy waters of the Chean River over the trapped soldiers.

The column crossed the low rise in the road and started on the gentle downgrade

toward the point on the south bank of the river opposite the town of Sorprat-or

what of it had been rebuilt after the destruction wrought by Anna's magic. It

still astounded her that "good" or harmonic song magic-Clearsong-could create

such massive destruction, often with not too great a side effect on Anna. Yet

the smallest of Darksong spells-even those which would have obviated the need

for destructive Clearsong-could prostrate her, possibly threaten her life.

Another unfairness that you can do nothing about... because that's the way this

world operates. Period. She put that thought aside and concentrated on the spell

she would have to use shortly.

Before long, she reined up Farinelli short of where the high grassland ended-

abruptly. Himar gestured, and a trumpet signal echoed through the early

afternoon. Behind them, the column slowed and halted. Anna patted Farinelli on

the shoulder, and the gelding nodded ever so slightly as if to suggest that he

indeed deserved some thanks.

Where the plateau ended, what had once been a sinkhole was now a circular and

placid lake, smaller than it had been, and cut off from the Chean River by a low

muddy rise barely three yards above the lake's surface. The water was still

brownish. Below the sorcery-cut bluffs, between the base of the bluffs and the

water's edge, instead of beaches, mud slopes angled into the murky lake.

"It is peaceful now' said Himar quietly. "One would hardly know that thousands

perished there."

Anna nodded. Ten thousand Ebrans. Dark Monks, she added mentally. "We're close

enough."

Himar turned his mount and stood in the stirrups. "Stand down!"

As she thought about the Ebrans, Anna almost wanted to shake her head. Hadrenn,

the Ebran Lord of Synek, had beseeched her to accept his fealty. She had, and in

making him one of the thirty-three lords of Defalk, thereby effectively added a

quarter of Ebra to Defalk. And probably ensured another war in Ebra. One way or

another there would have been war in Ebra she reminded herself, between Hadrenn

and Bertmynn, the noble who had taken the title of Lord of Dolov and sought to

unite all Ebra under his rule. The difference was that Hadrenn had a legitimate

claim to lands that had been seized from his father, and sought only those

lands, while Bertmynn was willing to sell out to the Liedfuhr of Mansuur and the

Sturinnese to rule all of Ebra, And the Sturinnese chain their women.

Anna dismounted. Ear a moment, as she grasped the cantle of the saddle with one

hand, she wasn't sure if her legs would hold. After site took the bottle that

still held water, she drank slowly. She recorked the battle and replaced it in

the holder before walking slowly in the open road before Farinelli to stretch

her legs. Next came the vocalises to clear her cords of dust, and the mucus from

allergies that Brill's youth spell had done nothing to remedy.

"Holly-lolly-pop..."

Behind her, horses sidestepped, and the armsmen murmured m voices so low that

the sound was mare like locusts than men. She shook her head, then began another

vocalise, hoping that getting her cords clear would not take forever.

"Quiet!" snapped Himar and the murmuring died away.

When Anna felt her cords were clear, she walked back to the gelding and

extracted from the left saddlebag the sketch of the ford she had drawn from

memory back in Falcor. Once she unrolled it, her eyes flicked from the drawing

to the terrain before her and back to the drawing, comparing the two.

The sketch showed almost a wide and flat stone shelf like structure that would

spread the river into a shallow and wide expanse, similar to the clay flats and

gravel shallows that had existed before Anna had destroyed the bend in her

efforts to annihilate the Ebran forces. She'd also sketched out what amounted to

a gradual spillway that would funnel the river back into the deeper channel that

existed below where the ford had been.

While she could have used sorcery to construct another bridge, the ford had

worked before, and she was reluctant to change what had worked, especially since

the northern side of the river was so much lower than the south and there was

little enough stone beneath the bluffs.

Finally. Anna lowered the scroll, turned, and motioned to Liende, who stood

before the players. Anna waited until the red-and-white-haired woodwind player

eased forward.

"If you would bring the players up here. Face them toward the river, not

the...lake," the sorceress said. "We'll use the long building spell. Warm up and

run through it a few times while 1 finish getting ready!'

"Players to position, here." Liende motioned for the others to gather in a

semicircle.

Anna walked forward a few steps, before stopping and looking at the sketch of

the ford and attempting to reconcile it to the reality of crumbling bluffs and

mudflats split by a turbid river perhaps thirty yards wide in a deep channel.

While the falk-horn, the woodwinds, and the strings tuned behind her, she sang

the notes of the spell, using "la" instead of real words, and worked at

visualizing the ford.

"We stand ready," Liende announced.

Anna turned to the chief player. "I'd like one run-through to fix the spell and

words, please!'

"At my mark," Liende ordered. "Mark!"

Anna tried to mesh the visual image, the words, and the melody, all without

actually singing the spell itself. Halfway through, she stopped and shook her

head. "I'm sorry. Could we try that again?"

Alter the second run-through, Anna took another sip of water, squared her

shoulders, and nodded once more at the chief player.

"The long building song-for the spell," commanded Liende. "At my mark... Mark!"

Anna concentrated on just the spell and the image of the stone-footed ford the

spell was designed to form, ignoring the heat, ignoring the fivescore armsmen

mounted and ranked behind the players, using full opera voice to set the spell.

... replicate the blocks and stones.

Place them in their proper zones....

Set them firm, and set them square

weld them to their pattern there...

Bring the rock and make it stone....

The bluff underfoot shivered, and kept shivering. Anna had to step sideways, but

managed to keep her voice open, strong, and clear. The lightning; marking her

use of the harmonies, and unseen to any but her, or so it had seemed; flickered

in the bright blue southern sky. The haze that formed would turn into clouds,

clouds that would dissipate within a few hours- glasses, she corrected herself

mentally.

As the song ended and the shimmering haze lifted, Anna smiled raggedly. The

bluff to her right had been trimmed into a stone-paved inclined road down to the

river, and the murky waters of the Chean formed a glistening sheet nearly a

hundred yards wide across the newly created stone ford. On the far side, a

second stone causeway rose out of the ford to join the road through the dozen

huts that represented the rebuilding of Sorprat.

"Most amazing, Lady Anna," offered Himar.

Murmurs from the armsmen ranked behind the players were louder.

"see?"

"...not many others who can do that."

"Not many, Nirweit? How about none."

"...hope the peasants appreciate it."

The dizziness that accompanied strenuous songspell-casting again left Anna

light-headed, but she stood firmly on the ground that shifted under her. Every

spell she cast-or so it seemed-left her weak, if for varying periods. That she

had to eat like a glutton to maintain her strength was something she still had

trouble accepting.

Rickel handed her the water bottle and a hard biscuit.

Anna took both, murmuring, "Thank you." Will you ever do a songspell without

feeling drained? Her eyes blurred, and she grasped at the saddle to steady

herself, holding on until the dizziness subsided.

The near-dozen players stood drained, their shoulders drooping, as they also

sought water and biscuits.

Anna stepped toward them. "Thank you all." She had to make an extra effort to

ensure her voice carried, that it was steady. She nodded to Liende, and offered

a smile. "Everyone was together."

"We have been practicing." Liende acknowledged, her eyes dark with fatigue.

"I can tell. Thank you?"

Liende bowed slightly, and Anna took another swallow from her water bottle.

Even after drinking and eating several biscuits, she remained light-beaded, and

might until the next day. But she remounted Farinelli, offering a smile to Himar

"Shall we try the ford?"

"As you wish, Regent," responded the overcaptain gravely. "As you wish."

Once the column was remounted, Anna urged Farinelli toward the stone causeway

that sloped down to the Chean River, toward the ford only she thought was

necessary. Was it really for faster travel to Mencha-and Ebra? Or because you

destroyed the old ford? To redress the wrongs your sorcery has created?

Her gut feeling remained that she had done the right thing; but the uncertainty

as to why remained, long after the column had passed through Sorprat and the

Chean River sheeted near silently over the newly wrought stones of the ford.

WEI, NORDWEI

With the knock on the door, Ashtaar sets aside the polished black agate oval

and straightens herself behind the wide table of a Counselor of Wei.

"Enter."

Gretslen bows as she enters, and again as she approaches the table where the

dark-haired spymistress waits.

Ashtaar nods toward the chair but remains silent behind the table as the younger

woman seats herself.

After a moment of silence, Gretslen begins to speak. "As you requested, your

mightiness, we have scried the waters of harmony and dissonance. Both the

Sturinnese and the Liedfuhr are assisting Bertmynn's efforts to conquer the

freewomen of Elahwa. He is gathering barges at the river quays on the south side

of Dolov. Three Sturinnese ships are skirting the Shoals of Discord now.

Earlier, they anchored off the northern coast"

"Has the Liedfuhr sent any assistance in recent weeks?"

"The seers have found none."

"What of the sorceress?"

"The sorceress has sent some golds to Hadrenn, but neither armsmen nor arms.

Hadrenn has sworn fealty to Defalk and the Regency. The sorceress did use

Clearsong to repair the ford on the Chean where she massacred the Ebrans. That

will reduce the time of travel to the east of Defalk and to Ebra. She is

returning to Falcor, but she has done nothing about the dark-singer in Pamr. It

is possible she does not know of his efforts, local as they are!"

"And the Maitre of Sturinn?"

"The high forests of the Ostisles are being cut to build more ships to replace

those lost in Dumar," replies the blonde seer. "Near-on half a score already

rise from the ways at Yular and almost as many at Puertoclaro."

"Has the situation changed in Neserea?"

"The fiftyscore Mansuuran lancers remain in Esaria, but our sources indicate

that they will soon be posted to Elioch. Even so, it is unlikely they will ride

near the West Pass. No Neserean lancers or armsmen will accompany them!"

Ashtaar nods-once. "Watch Esaria and Elahwa most closely."

"Not the sorceress?"

"She has never moved without provocation, and you have told me how strained your

seers are. Once there is provocation... then, it will be time to watch her more

closely."

Before Ashtaar speaks again, Gretslen asks, her voice deferential, "Will the

Council do anything to assist the freewomen?"

"Earlier the Council sent food and tools to help rebuild Elahwa from the floods

loosed by the sorceress when she destroyed the Evult. There may have been some

weapons and golds in those ships, and it is possible that there could be

additional assistance to the people of Elahwa." Ashtaar's voice is level.

"It is possible," Gretslen repeats, her voice equally level.

"Do not press, Gretslen!' Ashtaar stands. "You may go!"

The white and scattered puffy clouds of morning had thickened and darkened

throughout the early afternoon until a nearly unbroken stretch of gray filled

the sky. A cool breeze blew out of the northeast and across eastern Defalk,

fueled by the chill of the distant icy peaks of the Ostfels. Anna enjoyed the

break from what had seemed a steamy and unending ride back from Sorprat toward

Pamr. She'd been happy to pull off the floppy brown hat and let the light breeze

blow through her neck-length hair, scarcely longer than that of some of the

arms-men. Hair any, longer than that was hardly suited to riding, or washing in

a half-medieval culture, and she had far more to worry about than her hair. Like

how to build an effective national army so that you don't have to resolve eveiy

border problem with song-sorcery or the threat of it.

The road through the green fields and the river valley were both flat-flatter

even than Iowa-and the air was humid, despite the breeze. Even the road dust was

heavier, coating only a span or two of the horses' legs.

Thrummmm.... The muted and distant thunder rolled out of the northeast.

"We'll see rain before we reach Pamr." Himar glanced to Lejun, the guard to his

right, as if for confirmation.

Anna studied the clouds for a moment, shifting in the saddle, and absently

patting Farinelli on the neck. "A light rain. Maybe not that much." She looked

at Rickel, riding to her left. "You're from around here, aren't you? What do you

think?"

The broad-shouldered Rickel cocked his head, but his eyes continued to survey

both the road and the waist-high bean plants that flanked the road behind the

irrigation ditch filled with muddy water. "I'm from Heinene, but I'd agree with

you, Lady Anna. The clouds aren't dark enough. Not by half?"

Heinene? He does look like one of the grassland riders...

At the sound of a muted hail, all four looked westward along the dusty road.

"That would be the messenger." Himar pointed toward the rider who neared after

passing the scouts riding nearly a dek ahead of the main column. 'There's

another rider with him, in blue livery."

"I hope that Lady Gatrune is at home;' Anna said.

"You would be welcome even if she is not," pointed out the overcaptain.

"That might be, but it would be less awkward if she is?" And it would be seen

as less of an imposition by the more hostile lords of the Thirty-three.

The young-faced messenger reined up short of Anna and Himar, as did the second

rider The grizzle-bearded older man wore the Prussian blue livery Anna recalled

from when she had first met Lord Kysar before the old lord had died at the

battle of the Sand Pass, before his consort Gatrune had taken over running his

lands for their son and heir, before Anna had ever even thought about becoming a

regent.

"Regent...Overcaptain," offered the older armsman, "the lady Gatrune expects you

and bids you welcome."

Anna concealed a frown. The armsman looked familiar. She repressed a sigh. The

name wouldn't come. Finally, she offered a smile. "I should know you, armsman,

but I'm tired, and your name escapes me."

"Meris . . . I asked to come, Regent."

Meris? Anna could feel the broader smile with her recognidon of the man. "You

were the one who made it easy for me to see Lady Gatrune after the Sand Pass

battle-on my way to Falcor. It's good to see you."

Meris beamed. "Thank you, Regent. Like I told Heyless when you came to Pamr. . .

I owe you my life for that."

Anna fumbled with the wallet at her belt, then extended a gold. "Meris... I

promised you once I wouldn't forget you. I couldn't recall your name, and you

did a service that I couldn't repay you for then. Wait are fine, but golds help

with getting on with life."

Meris took the gold slowly. "Wouldn't as I came for that..."

"I know that, but when a regent promises..." Anna offered another smile.

"Thank you, lady. Thank you, and Eniabel will thank you, too." He bobbed his

head. "Like as she will, seeing as she's said words like that often enough."

Meris offered a grin.

Anna nodded at Meris, then Himar. "We'd better keep riding, or we will get

caught in the rain. And so will the armsmen."

Meris guided his mount into the column somewhere behind Anna and beside the

messenger as the force resumed the ride toward Pamr. Shoulder-high maize paced

the fields ahead, still green in the late summer. Anna glanced at a hut, smoke

circling from its chimney, recalling when most of the small dwellings between

Mencha and Pamr had been abandoned because of the drought caused by the Evult's

spells. Then she turned her attention to the problem Jecks had set her before

she had left Falcor. What should she do about Neserea? Could she do anything

about the Liedfuhr's buildup of armsmen and lancers in his grandson's realm? Or

did she need to wait until Konsstin acted?

Probably... or the lords of the Thirty-three will get even more upset...

That didn't include the thousand golds she still owed the Ranuan Exchange, golds

her predecessor had borrowed to pay for the armsmen to fight off the Ebrans. Or

the golds she needed to build her own national army so that Defalk wouldn't

always be at the mercy of its adventurous neighbors-and of the fractious nobles

of its own Thirty-three. She took a deep breath.

As the first houses of Pamr appeared, Anna forced herself into a more erect and

regal position in the saddle.

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DARKSONGRISINGBOOKTHREEOFTHESPELLSONGCYCLEL.E.MODESITTJR.ATOMDOHERTYASSOCIATESBOOKNEWYORKToandforthesorceresswhomadethisallpossible-CarolAnnNote:Ifyoupurchasedthisbookwithoutacoveryoushouldbeawarethatthisbookisstolenproperty.Itwasreportedas"unsoldanddestroyed"tothepubIisher,andneithertheauthornorthe...

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