The Spellsong War by L.E. Modesitt

Author:L.E. Modesitt [Modesitt, L.E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-10-26T10:59:50+00:00

46

Anna's boots clumped heavily on the worn stone floor tiles of the dim corridor. Her nose itched, and she rubbed it. Like everything else in Suhl, the corridor held the faint odor of mold and must. Even five years of drought hadn't been enough to destroy that—or the recent rains had revived the spores quickly. She rubbed her nose again, trying not to sneeze.

"The family quarters and the nursery are just ahead, lady," said Fhurgen. "We've removed…"

"They need an honorable burial," she said tiredly. "And stone markers or whatever's customary." Her head still throbbed; her legs ached; and sharp pains stabbed through the balls of her feet with each step. "Honorable?" asked Hanfor. "After his treachery?"

"He and his consort paid for it, didn't they? There's no point in disgracing the dead." Anna stopped and looked at the hollow-eyed Jecks. "Is there?"

"An honorable burial in the lords' plot would serve many purposes."

And mollify the sensibilities of my squeamish northern lords. "Fine. Let's set that up." There was so much to set up with only a few handfuls of retainers remaining. Yet Anna couldn't afford to have Suhl go down in ruins, not when her goal was to rebuild Defalk, not destroy it. Great start you're making.

"The nursery." Hanfor gestured to the open door.

Anna stepped into the long narrow room, with its narrow embrasured windows and weathered inside shutters. Only Jecks accompanied her. She glanced at the three children—the dark-haired girl and the two brown-haired boys—then at the short and stocky woman who stood behind them protectively.

"I'm not about to hurt them," the sorceress said, even as she could sense the nursemaid's doubt. Still, the woman had survived, and that meant she wasn't disloyal. Or that her first loyalties were to the children. "They weren't the ones who tried to kill me."

"Lady, Lord Sargol was a good man." The nursemaid's voice quavered.

Anna respected the opinion, and the courage it took to voice it. "He was good to his people, I'm sure. He wasn't good for Defalk or those who lived around him. And totally good lords don't refuse to pay their liedgeld and attempt to kill regents who aren't even threatening them. Nor would he have died if he hadn't been planning treachery. You weren't, and you're alive."

The maid's eyes widened slightly, as though she had not thought about that.

"Tell me the children's names."

"Keithen is the older boy. He's five. Resthor is his brother. He's two, almost three, at eight-week of summer. Dinfan, she be the daughter. She's eight, I think."

Anna turned to the girl. "Dinfan, do you know who I am?"

"Da, he said you were a harpy of discord."

That's one for honesty. "Some people have said that. It's not true. I'm the Regent of Defalk."

"He said you were bad." The girl's voice was unsteady, but she held her chin firmly, almost defying Anna, much as her own Irenia had. Irenia, the accident, the funeral—they all seemed so far away, so distant.

Anna swallowed, trying to keep her composure before she spoke. "I have done bad things.

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