Anna stood at the tower window in the stillness of dawn. Could she have somehow just exiled the two? Then the officers would have remained loyal. Loyalties were more personal than national on Erde, and only death dissolved them. Sandy had argued that modern war was insane, that thousands died because no one would kill a madman who happened to be a ruler. But Behlem hadn't been a madman. He and his consort had just wanted to kill Anna, or use her until she died for their purposes.
She shook her head and looked out beyond the walls at the lines of tents in the gray light. Now what?
Messengers to Lord Jecks, and to all the lords announcing her temporary regency. Should she invite them to Falcor? Was she prepared? Would they come?
First. . . Jecks.
And what about all the armed Nesereans? How could she disarm that situation? Should she rely on the officers she had ensorcelled? That didn't feel right.
Anna turned back to the basin. She heard occasional clankings and that meant she had guards.
With a sigh, she yanked the bell pull.
Rather than stand in a thin gown on the landing with two strange guards, she waited until the door knocker thunked.
Resor and Birke and Skent all stood on the landing, crowded indeed with three pages and two guards.
"How about some buckets of water and some breakfast?"
"Yes, Lady Anna!" The three chorused before departing on their errands.
The guards, if they looked at her disheveled state, did so so surreptitiously that she did not notice.
After eating and washing, and dressing in clean riding clothes, she sent Skent to request Hanfor' s presence. While she waited she began to draft her letter to Lord Jecks. That had to be handled quickly so that the message was traveling while she attended to other matters.
Hanfor was punctual, and she had barely finished her proposed note to Lord Jecks before he arrived, with another thunk of the knocker.
"How did it go last night?" Anna asked, after she had closed the door, and gestured toward one of the chairs.
"Well enough," Hanfor shrugged, sitting on the front edge of his seat. "You were right about not being there. Most appreciated the freedom to talk. Except they whispered at first, as if Alvar or Spirda or I might overhear something."
"And?"
"They are still confused."
Anna shook her head. "From what I've read, and heard, this sort of thing happens here. Why are they confused? Behlem tried to conquer a neighbor, and he didn't succeed. The sorcery might be new..."
"It be not that. They are not used to that kind of directness from a woman. Ladies are either not heard, or they are like Cyndyth or the bitches of the south."
Anna raised her eyebrows.
"Ranuak," he explained. "They spent much time talking to Hmiar. He confused them more, the honest wright, for he confirmed what Alvar said."
"Will they go home peacefully?"
Hanfor snorted. "All will go home peacefully. Only poor officers would want a fight against a sorceress. But Konsstin will hate you. Nubara will see to that."
"Nubara?". Again, Anna felt in over her head, with names she had never heard.
"He was Konsstin's envoy to Neserea. He came to Falcor with Lady Cyndyth, but he and his retinue left at dawn this morning. In great haste, I might add."
Anna nodded. "The assassins?"
"I would expect so."
"How is Menares?"
"He appears wrung and plucked with dissonance. He will obey you, though, for no others would have him."
"If his deviousness serves me, fine, but I'll need other counselors, too." Anna brushed back the blonde curls that were getting far too long. "And what about Behlem? Shouldn't the bodies go back to Neserea?"
Hanfor nodded. "I put Himar in charge of that. That detail of lancers will leave this afternoon, but he will stay. He asked to. The sooner the coffins are out of Defalk, the better."
"All of their personal servants go also," Anna added. She handed the two sheets of paper to Hanfor. "I thought I would send this to Lord Jecks. What do you think?"
"It is not-"
"Hanfor. How can we work together if you're not free to be honest with me?"
The overcaptain read slowly, and Anna thought, wondering about what else she had forgotten.
She needed to act quickly, before people got ideas, while they were still stunned.
Perhaps some sorcery in parts of Falcor-to rebuild some of the damage from the floods?
"Will he believe you?" asked Hanfor.
"We have met twice. I could have destroyed him the second time, and the Prophet would have preferred that I did. He knows that."
"Then. . . he may come. But if he does not?"
"I must go to him."
"You feel strongly."
"About some things." About a lot of things, these days. Or is it that I'm letting myself feel strongly?
Hanfor waited.
"That leaves one problem-how to deal with the armsmen. I think I should talk to them."
"That could be dangerous. What do you gain?"
"Respect."
"Is respect for those who will soon be gone worth the risk?" asked Hanfor gently.
"That's not it. If I stand up to all those armsmen, then..." Anna shrugged. She couldn't explain, but somehow it was important, and not just to her. It had to do with the people of Defalk and the armsmen who would guard the liedburg and...everything else.
"What will you do if one expresses open disrespect? Best you think of that. And the Prophet's Guard..." Hanfor paused, then said. "Many are like Zealor."
"A compromise," Anna said. "All except the Prophet's Guard? I ride Farinelli, and I carry the lutar."
Hanfor frowned again.
"It's a feeling, and it's important."
"I would not go against strong feelings," answered Han-for in his dry voice. "Not those of a sorceress."
Anna smiled, briefly.
"There is a question of the banner," Hanfor offered.
"Banner?"
"Whose ensign shall the liedburg fly? Do you wish to design one?"
"No." Anna frowned. "Is there one of Lord Barjim's?"
"That would not be proper.... He no longer lives."
"Was one ever designed for Jimbob?"
"I would not think so."
"All right. Put a black border on Lord Barjim's and fly it. Would that work?"
"For a time."
"And have someone design one for Jimbob, and then have them add whatever device is necessary to indicate a regent for him."
Hanfor nodded slowly. "You remain tied to that view?"
"I feel that it's right, and that it will work."
"Will Lord Jecks and the other lords accept that?"
"I don't know," admitted Anna, "but it seems they would prefer that to losing everything."
"Lords are not always reasonable," said Hanfor.
"That's true. We'll wait and see. Now... what about seeing the armsmen?"
"You still believe-"
"Yes."
Hanfor shrugged. "Then I would do it quickly, without notice."
"Fine. I'll meet you in the stable shortly. Or is that too soon?"
"Lady Anna, the sooner this idea is past, the happier I will be." Hanfor rose, and Anna escorted him to the door.
Open disrespect? What could she do?
For a time, she pondered, then finally jotted down something on a scrap of paper. She tried the chords, and said the words, separately, several times before she was satisfied.
Then she gathered the lutar into its case and stepped out onto the landing. Anna carried the lutar, feeling almost self-conscious with the pair of guards tramping down the stone steps behind her.
It got worse as she crossed the courtyard. Although there were but a handful of armsmen, and Behlem's players, standing about, all conversation ceased. She could hear the echo of her boots and those of the guards, and it seemed like every eye was on her.
She'd thought that the attention a ruler received might be like being onstage, but she didn't like the idea of being onstage all the time. You'd better get used to it, she told herself as she entered the stable.
"Lady Anna." Tirsik almost went to his knees.
"Enough," she said softly. "I'm the same Lady Anna I always was. How's Farinelli?"
"He is as usual-feisty to the rest of us."
"Good. I think." Anna paused and drew the stablemaster aside. "Hanfor is looking for good Defalkan armsmen. We need them. Do you know of any?"
"Me?"
"Tirsik, I've tried to tell everyone. I am an acting regent only, regent for young Jimbob.
Defalk belongs to Defalk. Now I'm going to groom Farinelli."
Why was it that no one ever believed what she said?
Farinelli whuffed and pranced sideways, as she set the lutar aside and opened the stall door.
"It's only been two days," Anna remonstrated, as she ran the brush across her mount's shoulder.
The gelding whuffed again.
"All right."
The time seemed caught in molasses, and grooming Farinelli took forever, but Hanfor had barely arrived with Spirda and a full squad of guards when she led Farinelli out of the stables.
"...more of a lord than any of them.. ." murmured Tirsik.
She doubted that, even as she appreciated the sentiment. "The officers are drawing up the ranks now," Hanfor announced. "They were not told why. I thought that was better."
If he were right, Anna reflected it certainly was. If not, it made no difference.
Somewhere, in the corner of the courtyard, as various armsmen and Behlem's players still watched silently, a chicken brawwked. Anna wanted to laugh. Only the chicken had the right outlook. Life went on, and chickens brawwked, and the sun turned things hotter, and sometimes the wind blew, no matter who held what city or liedstadt.
She mounted and rode toward the gate, Spirda pale-faced and to her left, Hanfor to her right, the squad behind.