Thunnnnkk! The heavy knocker on the tower door clunked.
"Lady Anna..."
The two pages who had apparently been assigned to her, as some sort of disciplinary duty, she suspected, stood there. Their arms were filled with ill-assorted fabric, with shades ranging from mottled brown to mottled green.
"Just bring me some cloth, linen and cotton," Anna had said. "Any kind." Well.. . they had brought all kinds.
"Put it on the bed."
"Would you like anything else, lady?" asked the thin redhead.
Anna ignored the slight overemphasis on "lady," and answered. "Is there a bathing room in the tower?"
"Ah... no, Lady Anna."
"Then bring me two large basins of clean water. And some good soap."
Both pairs of shoulders slumped.
"I know. It's a long walk." She smiled. "But I would appreciate it, since I must appear in court tonight."
"Court?"
"Before the Prophet," the sorceress explained. Every so often she used some common phrase, and everyone looked blank. It was so like the year she had studied in London.
The two exchanged glances.
"We could bring a big bucket for your basin," said the redhead.
"If you could get one more basin with the bucket..."
"We'll try, lady," promised the more voluble redhead.
After they left, Anna sorted through the dozen yards or so of assorted fabric. Some appeared to be cotton, and a small swatch of blue was something like velvet. All was poor quality.
After picking up the lutar again, she had to spend more time tuning it. and she probably would every time until the strings finally broke. Three spells later, two goblets of water, and more re- tunings than that, she had a passably decent recital-or court-gown, a dressing robe, and a nightgown. And still several yards of cloth left.
She'd have to think about what else she needed. In the interim, she folded the spare fabric and tucked it under the bed.
Shoes? What could she do about shoes? She snorted.
Green suede shoes, instead of blue? Why not?
That worked easily, even if she never had seen green suede heels. The spell, or her visualization, had even matched the suede with the green of the gown. She tried not to worry about the source of the leather. At least her boots remained intact Then, reminded of the heat by the sweat on her forehead, and the need for another goblet of water, she tried a cooling spell using an offshoot of the basic water melody.
Mist rolled off the walls, and a hammer slammed through her skull. She slumped into the chair and massaged her forehead. Maybe enduring the heat was easier.
She just sat for a time, until another thunk on the door announced the return of the two youths with the water.
After standing and setting the lutar in the corner by. the window, Anna opened the door.
The redhead gaped at the bed, where the green gown lay, with the shoes beneath. "Where.. .
lady? Did you bring a seamstress?"
"Sorceresses make their own gowns, didn't you know?"
"It's cool in here." The dark-haired page set the heavy bucket on the floor. "Cooler than down in the water room." His arms trembled.
"Don't spill the water, lad," Anna cautioned. She paused. "I can't keep calling you two 'lad'
or what have you. What are your names?"
Both swallowed.
''Uhhh . .."
Anna shook her head. "Names mean nothing. If I wanted to, I could cast a spell on you without your names."
"But.."
Anna waited.
"I'm Birke," said the redhead. "My father is Lord of Abenfel."
"Skent. My father was guard-captain of the liedburg." The brightness of Skent's eyes warmed Anna.
"Bear with me," she said. "I have much to learn. I am a stranger here."
"Is it true you're from the mist worlds?" asked Birke. "That's what the armsmen who brought you said."
"Yes."
"What are the mist worlds like?" Birke persisted.
"I only know my own world. Where I live is cooler than here, especially in the winter...."
Anna paused and looked at Skent, who was holding himself still and trying to keep his lip stiff.
She touched his shoulder. "I'm sorry."
"Don't touch me." His words were cold and trembling.
"I am sorry," she said. "I don't want to upset you, but I can tell it hurts."
"How would you know?" burst forth from the dark-haired boy.
"My children are in my world," Anna said. "My oldest daughter died not very long ago, and it still hurts."
Birke stiffened, but Skent continued to tremble.
"I wanted to hold her. . ." Anna swallowed, then said quietly, "I never can." She pulled back into herself. "I'm sorry, Skent. I didn't mean to upset you."
"That's.. . all right. You are a lady."
"Can we do anything else?" Birke asked quickly.
"No." Anna glanced to the window. "How long before dinner?"
"They eat when the sun sets," Skent said coldly, the chill radiating from his words.
"Thank you." She paused. "I need to wash up and get ready, then."
The two slipped out, and Anna did not close the door all the way, listening to whispers over the steps that slapped down the stone stairs.
"Maybe she is a sorceress."
"... better act like she is, Skent. . . she's something, and I wouldn't want to get in her way ..."
"She seems nice. . . a lot nicer than the others, anyway..."
Anna hoped the story would get around. She needed all the help she could get, and that might not be enough. Her eyes flicked to the lutar and then to the heavy bucket of water. She had a lot to do.
Even washing up wasn't that simple. She had to use another spell to clean the water again in order to wash her hair, but she wasn't going to her first dinner with the Prophet of Music without looking her best.
The bell in the liedburg differed from that used by Brill, but Anna was ready, looking out the window toward the sun that touched the tops of the houses on the west side of Falcor.
Thuuunk. "Dinner will be served, lady," called Birke, his high voice carrying through the heavy wood.
"I'll be right there." Anna glanced at the mirror and patted her head a last time, trying to nudge the blonde strands into a better semblance of order.
Birke gulped audibly as the sorceress stepped into the narrow hallway. She smothered the smile, knowing that she was treading a fine line, but the gown was conservative, with slightly puffed short sleeves and a square-cut neck that did not show any cleavage, even if the cut of the fabric hinted not quite blatantly that she was feminine.
Skent smiled shyly.
"Are you feeling a little better?" she asked.
''A little, lady.''
"Can you two tell me who will be at this dinner?"
Both shook their heads.
"They don't tell us. We have to stay in the tower during the day, except when we fetch things," Birke explained. "That's why we don't mind going for water or cloth or things. Not too much, anyway."
"Where is this dinner?" Anna asked, putting out a hand to the rough stone wall. The last thing she needed was to tumble down the narrow stone steps.
"In the middle hall," said Birke.
"No one uses the great hall," Skent added.
Anna wanted to sneeze as each step seemed to raise more dust. Her eyes were watering by the time they left the tower and walked along a paneled side hall-windowless, with only intermittent lamps. After less than twenty yards, Birke turned left into a larger corridor, where the sconces contained larger brass lamps. The lamps on the left side had been lit, and a page with a striker stood on a stool at the far sconce on the right side. Anna's heels clicked on the tile floors that had been recently swept.
Halfway down the corridor, an older page, or a young armsman stood before the pair of guards outside a set of arched double doors.
"That be the middle hall," whispered Skent.
Anna stopped. Now what?
"Giellum, this is the lady Anna. She' s the sorceress from the mist world," explained Birke.
"Lady Anna." Giellum bowed, and turned toward the doors. The guards opened the doors, and he stepped through. "The lady Anna!"
Anna smiled at Birke and Skent, then straightened and walked into the formal dining hall. The room was dim, with only three triple candelabra upon the table lit, a table under the pair of unlit chandeliers that contained close to twenty men-not a single woman. Within herself, Anna stiffened, but she kept the smile in place.
"How do you know she's a sorceress?" The single remark from somewhere near the head of the table hung in the sudden silence.
Before anyone else could speak, Anna sang the candle spell almost loud enough to shiver the crystal chandeliers- and the room flooded with light. A quick look up told her that her spell had burned down the top third of every candle.
About half the jaws around the long table hung down.
"For the moment, will that do?" Anna asked, inclining her head slightly to the sandy-haired Lord of Neserea.
"Yes. That will do, Lady Anna." Behiem smiled broadly: "Does anyone else wish to question the lady's capabilities?"
The silence answered the question.
The Prophet gestured to the empty place at his right.
As Anna passed up the table toward the head, she caught a few whispers.
"... . Prophet has the luck of the dissonant..."
"...take luck over skill any day..."
"...never seen a sorceress that lovely. . ."
She kept the professional smile all the way up the table, where at another nod from Lord Behlem, she took the empty seat to his right, noting that not one of the men around the table even made a gesture toward her chair.
"Lady Anna, you have met Menares," the Prophet said after she sat.
Anna nodded across the table to the white-haired counselor, who returned the nod and gave a half smile.
"This is Hanfor, overcaptain of the Prophet's Lancers." Behiem inclined his head toward a square-faced officer in the cream and blue that marked the Nesereans. Hanfor was seated to the right of Menares.
Hanfor's black hair was short and streaked with gray, and his weathered face offered a professional smile. "I hope you can assist us."
"I will do my best, overcaptain."