Behlem looked incredulous. "Do not press me, sorceress."
"Nor me." murmured Cyndyth.
Menares shook his head minutely.
Anna sighed, hummed one note, and sang, full-voice: "Prophet strong, prophet wrong, turn to flame with this song.
Singing turn, music burn, die the death you've earned!"
"No! You bitch!" Behlem stumbled forward, his right hand groping for the ceremonial blade for a moment before he began to tear at his uniform. Then slowly, like a falling tree in a forest fire, he toppled slowly.
Even as she stepped to her left, Anna felt like retching, both at the shrieks of agony, and the stench of burned meat. Instead she gathered herself together, as cold inside as Behlem was hot, hummed again and sang.
"Scheming lady, scheming wrong turn to fire with this song.
Your schemes have you burned, die the death you've earned!"
Cyndyth stared for a moment, then opened her mouth, rising and lurching toward the sorceress, but she, too, flared into flame, and then toppled into a burning charcoaled heap. Anna swayed, but managed to stay on her feet, swallowing the bile in her throat.
The old advisor-Menares-opened his mouth.
"Don't," Anna croaked.
Menares shut his mouth.
Anna turned to the overcaptain. "Will you serve me, Hanfor?"
Hanfor stood for a long moment. "Do you threaten me, lady?"
"No. I am asking, because you have ability, and because I'd rather there not be any more killing and deaths. Defalk has had enough, and there's no one left capable of commanding armsmen here."
"I will serve you," Hanfor bowed, "so long as I do not have to lead troops into Neserea."
"Thank you." Anna appreciated his wording. "I suppose you had best gather the officers immediately in the main dining hall. Do not mention the Prophet yet. I will announce that."
"What. . . of me?" Menares croaked.
"Come along, and say not a word," snapped Hanfor, touching his blade.
Anna opened the door, and motioned Menares out, glancing at Hanfor. She let him close the heavy door.
"Let no one enter," Hanfor ordered Giellum.
The young armsman' s eyes flickered, and his nose twitched, and he swallowed. "Yes, ser."
Across the hall, Birke stood looking around, note in his hand. Then he rushed for Hanfor and pressed the paper into the overcaptain's hand. Hanfor glanced at Anna. She smiled briefly, then took the lutar case from Skent, as Hanfor opened and read the note, which he then tucked into his belt.
"The Prophet has commanded, that all enter the dining hall," Anna said quietly. She took the lutar case and extracted the instrument, then handed the case back to Skent.
As she walked toward the open double doors thirty yards down the corridor, she could hear low voices, and voices not so low. Her mouth was dry, and her heart pounded. Was it murder?
Of course it was. Was it necessary? Lord, how many people justified themselves that way? She kept walking.
The great hail was already half filled with the Prophet's officers when Anna walked to the dais. Holding the lutar, she glanced around, waiting.
"...beautiful..." ."
"...beautiful like a sharp blade with no hilt. . . no matter how you handle her.., get sliced six ways to market..."
"...never seen her in a gown... looks different..."
"...like her better in the field..."
More officers entered, then Hanfor, and the doors closed. Hanfor moved across the room, and the officers parted as he neared Anna. He offered a quick bow. "They are all here, I think."
"Thank you. Stand behind me. Please."
The weathered officer frowned, but obeyed. Anna's fingers flicked three loud chords, and the murmurs died. Would she have enough time before someone charged, or would her reputation hold them at bay? She slipped into Rosina's words quickly, almost effortlessly.
"Ma se mi tocano dov 'e ii mio debole, sarouna vipera, sa ro, e cento trapole prima di cedere faro giocar, faro giocar.."
Then she followed up with the revised version of the spell used on both Virkan and Madell.
"Captains here, captains strong, keep me safe with this song.
Captains warm, captains cold, faithful be till dead and old."
Even before she stopped singing, Zealor stepped forward, trembling, and opened his mouth.
Then a violent shaking took him, and he collapsed on the floor writhing. Soon... he was still.
Anna nodded. So much hate that his system could not stand the conflict.
She turned to the others. "As I am sure some of you know, Delor attempted to have me killed.
Don't believe that I didn't understand that Behlem kept others around to try again once I had defeated the dark ones."
She paused. She was sounding stupid, getting ahead of herself, and her mouth was still like cotton. "The lord Behlem had requested I leave Falcor and planned to have me killed once I left tomorrow. He and his consort killed and tortured innocent women. She set at least two assassins after me. Yet I never opposed him. Not until today. All rulers do some terrible things, but Lord Behlem would have become little different from the Evult of Ebra." She swallowed. "Those of you who know me, you know I do not like killing. Those who know me know I do not speak in fancy phrases. I have done what I thought best. I killed many to save you, and I have destroyed the Prophet and his Consort to save Defalk and perhaps Liedwahr. I don't know, but I have done what I felt was right."
Silence filled the hall, the silence of men stunned beyond immediate belief. Men who could not believe a woman was cold-blooded and direct enough to kill their ruler and face them.
The sorceress looked out across the faces of the officers, seeing Alvar's swarthy face, and Spirda's strained pale face. "I do not intend you harm, as most of you must know by now. There are some who have meant me harm, and the spells were to keep them from harming me. Any of you may leave, with your armsmen, but I command those who do depart to leave Defalk and never to return, save with my written permission.
"Now," Anna gestured to the tables, "there was a victory. You have paid for it. Best you enjoy it." She turned to Hanfor. "It is time I leave the hall."
"Lady Anna!"
A swarthy figure made his way through the stunned officers-Alvar.
"I be no lord. I be no overcaptain. I captained the lead lancers. I watched the lady Anna stand in a dirty trench with a player and three guards and face ten thousand Ebrans alone. I watched her almost die from that effort, and I watched Lord Behlem insult her.
"I talked to others. They watched her stand on a broken wall and try to hold back the Ebrans when all others fled. She near died then, too, and was carried away 'cause she spent herself to save others." Alvar coughed. "I be from Firscor, and for generations, my folk be there. I never saw a lord put himself in front of his men one time. The lady did twice. That be all I have to say." He knelt.
Anna's eyes burned, but she took Alvar's hand and insisted he rise.
"Lady Anna... Lady Anna..."
The murmured words were not a booming acclamation. Neither were they bitter, but an acknowledgment that she was Lady Anna...worthy to be called such.
"Eat and enjoy it," Hanfor said. He turned to Alvar. "it's your job to get them not to waste good food. I will return shortly."
"Yes, ser." Alvar smiled. "You heard the overcaptain! To the tables."
As Anna and Hanfor stepped into the corridor outside the hall, followed by a dazed-looking Menares, Giellum knelt, as did the two pages. The two guards looked to Hanfor.
"The lady Anna holds Falcor," Hanfor said, "and all the Prophet's officers support her. You guard her, with your lives, or I'll have them."
The two young guards blinked.
"You heard them acclaim Lady Anna."
The guards' faces relaxed. "Lady Anna."
Anna turned to Skent and Birke, still kneeling. "Up. You need to spread the word. Just what the overcaptain said. I hold Falcor. No more, no less."
As the two pages scurried off, and as overcaptain, the sorceress, and the white-haired counselor walked toward the receiving room, followed by the two guards, Hanfor said, "Neatly done, my lady. Are you going to claim any special title? The Sorceress of Defalk?"
"No."
Hanfor's face blanked.
"It's not time for a woman to be lord, not officially. Young Jimbob will have to be lord."
"He is but a child." Hanfor stroked his beard. "Yet your words about women have a bitter wisdom."
"This poor land doesn't need another lineage." Anna looked at Hanfor. "My children are worlds away, and I can have no more. For now, I am acting as regent-in the absence of anyone in the lineage of Defalk." Anna smiled. "Do you mind serving an acting regent, Hanfor? I will release you ..."
"I will stay. My life would be worthless in Neserea." The weathered face cracked into a smile.
'Matters here will be interesting, anyway."
"You will have much to do. We need to summon Lord Jecks. . . and take care of all sorts of details, such as the transport and burial of Lord Behlem and Lady Cyndyth." She nodded toward Menares. "It might be best if most of the armsmen, particularly the Prophet's Guard, were re- turned to Esaria as soon as possible to ensure the safety of Rabyn. Isn't he the Prophet now?"
"Ah... that would have to rest on the lords of Neserea, Lady Anna," mumbled Menares.
"You would know better than I, but shouldn't young Rabyn be offered some protection?"
"I would be happy..." stuttered Menares.
Anna shook her head. "Your assistance will be needed here, Menares. And I suspect you will be far safer here. Far safer." She paused, shaking her head. "There's so much, and I don't know where to start. I feel you're playing a deeper game. I don't know who else is involved, but I'd suggest you tell me. Before I use sorcery to find out." Her eyes bored into his.
"The Council of Wei. . . they.. . my sister.. . the story is long..."
Hanfor's mouth opened, then closed with a smile.
"You work for me," Anna said. "Hanfor and me. Or you leave tonight for Wei."
Menares gulped and looked down the corridor. "I work for you... Lady Anna."
"Do not forget it. Ever."
"No, Lady Anna."
"Do you intend to take the lord's quarters?" asked Hanfor.
"Not tonight. Maybe not ever."
The overcaptain raised his eyebrows.
"I'm too tired to worry. My own quarters are comfortable enough, and," Anna smiled, "I can defend them." Her fingers tightened around the lutar. "Later, I might get a room with a bath.
Later. I haven't slept much lately."
"That will not get any better," offered the overcaptain.
"No. It won't. But I hope other people will sleep." She turned toward the north tower, and Hanfor turned with her.
"You left some confused officers," he pressed.
"I know. I'm not demanding loyalty. They gave it to the Prophet. Most of them should go back to Neserea and defend his son. He's their duty now."
"Can I tell them that?"
Anna rubbed her forehead. "Yes. I should have thought of that. I should have. There's so much I should have thought about."
"You have made a start, and that is more than most." Hanfor inclined his head, with a look at Menares who tagged along like a lost old dog. "You can't think of everything, lady."
I'm going to have to, especially now. Especially from now on.
After Hanfor left, with the two guards remaining outside her door, Anna shook her head.
Why? She still didn't know exactly why. Was she power-hungry, just like every other woman who protested loudly that only men were? Or was she just tired of reacting when she had the chance to do more?
She didn't know, really, and she might not ever. We all deceive ourselves, with the best of motives.
In time, she slept, most uneasily, waking and wondering how many things she had forgotten and left undone, then dozing.
105.