Darksong Rising by L. E. Modesitt Jr. Read Free Book Online

the
    sorceress. There she was. But a handful of armsmen rode between you and her, and you did
    nothing. I had most of my drums ready.”
     
    “Now is not the time, my brother.” Farsenn smiles. “She has not suffered enough, and she will
    suffer."
     
    “You mean that you are not yet skilled enough to stand against her?” Giersan raises his
    eyebrows. “When then? She will be back in Falcor, Farsenn. Her power grows daily. Even the
    Liedfuhr of Mansuur has acknowledged her Regency.” Giersan rubs his forehead, then uses the
    maple mallet to tap the single drum that rests on the wooden floor beside him. He cocks his head
    and listens to the sound.
     
    “Do you not see? Do you not care? I saw the blazing pyre she made of our father! A man, a
    worthy man, our father, and she turned him to ashes! A woman, a lowly bitch from beyond dis-
    sonance, and she destroyed him on a whim!” snaps the chandler in brown. His voice rises almost
    into a screech. “We suffered from the fire that burned half the merchandise. Did she offer a coin?
    A condolence? Did she even look back?”
     
    "I wasn’t there," points out the drummer
     
    “You didn’t have to be. I was, and I saw, and she will suffer!”
     
    Giersan shrugs. “As you say.”
     
    “I do say. I will say.” Farsenn glares at his younger brother. “And she will suffer.”
     
    The drummer nods, then looks at the wooden floor. The silence between them lengthens.
     
    “How are the other drums coming?” asks Farsenn, long after the sound of hoofs has died away.
     
    “They are almost ready. But even with eight, I can only play simple melodies.” Giersan runs his
    fingertips over the wood of the drums.
     
    “Simple will be enough.” The young chandler in brown smiles, and his eyes fix on an image
    none can see but him.
     
    “More than enough. Far more than she will expect”
     
    7
     
    Still dusty from the ride. Anna sank into the upholstered wooden armchair beside her
    bedchamber’s small working desk table. The room was dim, lit but by the single taper on the

desk and one candle in the wall sconce inside the heavy oak door. Her stomach growled, and she
    wondered which she wanted more—food or a hot bath.
     
    Her eyes flicked to the wall, and the black rectangle etched them. A different deeper pain burned
    through her. How long... how long before you can try to see Elizabetta again? Tomorrow? It’s
    been almost a season, and Brill said you could look across the mist worlds occasionally. The last
    time she’d tried to use her sorcery to see her youngest child, the mirror had exploded. Anna had
    been most fortunate that the knife-sharp glass fragments had not killed her. But you have a pool
    now...water doesn’t explode the way glass mirrors do.
     
    Her eyes flicked to the door as she heard the rap on the wood and Lejun’s announcement.
     
    “Lord Jecks is here, Lady Anna.”
     
    “Have him come in.” Anna straightened in the chair. Tomorrow... when you’re more rested, then
    you can see about Elizabetta.
     
    The white-haired and clean-shaven Lord of Elheld smiled as he stepped into her chamber. “You
    returned sooner than I thought, my lady Regent.”
     
    “A certain lord suggested that if I had to repair a ford, I had better do it quickly and get back to
    the important business of being Regent.” She gestured to the other straight chair, the one beside
    the writing desk.
     
    “I do not recall being so incautious as to say anything such as that.” Jecks raised his eyebrows as
    he settled gracefully, if slightly gingerly, into the chair. The pallor had left his face, although his
    outdoor tan had faded and a trace of gauntness had left his face five years older than it had been.
    The smile he bestowed on Anna was as devastating as always, but she managed to avoid
    swallowing or overtly betraying the attraction she felt.
     
    “My dear lord Jecks, you didn’t need to voice a word.” Anna rose. “I’m dusty and tired and
    hungry.