The author and publisher have provided this e-book to you without Digital Rights Management software (DRM) applied so that you can enjoy reading it on your personal devices. This e-book is for your personal use only. You may not print or post this e-book, or make this e-book publicly available in any way. You may not copy, reproduce or upload this e-book, other than to read it on one of your personal devices.
Copyright infringement is against the law. If you believe the copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the author’s copyright, please notify the publisher at: us.macmillanusa.com/piracy.
For Elizabeth and Drew
Characters
Secca Sorceress Protector of the East; Lady of Loiseau (Mencha); Lady of Flossbend (Synope)
Robero Lord of Defalk, and Lord of Elheld, Falcor, and Synfal (Cheor)
Alyssa Consort of Robero
Dythya Counselor of Finance
Jirsit Arms Commander of Defalk
Lords of Defalk: The Thirty-Three
Alseta Lady of Mossbach; consort is Barat; son is Lyendar
Birke Lord of Abenfel; consort is Reylana; mother is Fylena
Cataryzna Lady of Sudwei; consort is Skent; heir is Skansor
Chelshay Lady of Wendel; consort is Nerylt, son of Clethner
Clethner Lord of Nordland; heir is Lythner
Dinfin Lady of Suhl; consort is Wasle, brother of Birke
Dostal Lord of Aroch; consort is Ruetha
Ebraak Lord of Nordfels; heir is Cassily
Falar Warder of Uslyn, heir to Fussen; also consort to Herene, Lady of Pamr.
Fustar Lord of Issl; sole heir is Kylar
Gylaron Lord of Lerona; consort is Reylan; heir is Gylan; father of Reylana
Herene Lady of Pamr; consort is Falar; heir is Kysar
Kinor Lord of Westfort (Denguic) and Lord of the Western Marches; consort is Asaro
Mietchel Lord of Morra, brother of Lady Wendella of Stromwer
Selber Lord of Silberfels; heir is Helbar; sister is Belvera
Tiersen Lord of Dubaria; consort is Lysara; eldest son and heir is Lystar
Uslyn Lord heir of Fussen; father was Ustal, mother Yelean
Vyasal Rider of Heinene
Ytrude Lady of Mossbach, sister of Tiersen; consort is Cens
Wendella Lady of Stromwer; heir is Condell
Zybar Lord of Arien
Sorcerers and Sorceresses
Anandra Sorceress assistant to Clayre
Clayre Sorceress of Defalk
Jolyn Assistant Sorceress of Defalk
Fosterlings, Apprentices, and Pages
Jeagyn Fosterling/sorceress apprentice at Loiseau
Kerisel Fosterling/sorceress apprentice at Loiseau
Richina Apprentice sorceress to Secca; daughter of Dinfan
Defalkan Armsmen
Elfens Chief Archer, Loiseau
Drysel Captain, Loiseau
Quebar Captain, Loiseau
Rickel Lord’s Guard-Captain, Falcor
Wilten Overcaptain, Loiseau
Defalkan Players
Bretnay Violino, Loiseau
Delvor Chief of Second Players, Loiseau
Duralt Falk-horn, Loiseau
Diltyr Chief Player for Clayre, Falcor
Dossin Lutar, Loiseau
Elset Woodwind, Loiseau
Kylar Violino, Loiseau
Nuel Violino, Loiseau
Palian Chief Player, Loiseau
Rowal Woodwind, Loiseau
Yuarl Chief Player for Jolyn, Falcor
Others Outside Defalk
Alya Matriarch of Ranuak; consort is Aetlen
Alcaren Sorceror; cousin to the Matriarch
Ashtarr Leader, Council of Wei, Nordwei
Ayselin Holder of Netzla, Neserea
Belmar Holder of Worlan, Neserea
Fehern Acting Lord High Counselor of Dumar; without consort
Hadrenn Lord High Counselor of Ebra; Lord of Synek, Ebra; consort is Belvera; heir is Haddev; younger son is Verad.
Hanford Lord High Counselor of Neserea; consort is Aerlya; eldest daughter and heiress is Annayal
Kestrin Liedfuhr of Mansuur; brother of Aerlya
Motolla Holder of Itzel, Neserea; heir is Chyalar
Svenmar Holder of Nesalia, Neserea
Veria Counselor, Freewomen of Elahwa
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Chapter 80
Chapter 81
Chapter 82
Chapter 83
Chapter 84
Chapter 85
Chapter 86
Chapter 87
Chapter 88
Chapter 89
Chapter 90
Chapter 91
Chapter 92
Chapter 93
Chapter 94
Chapter 95
Chapter 96
Chapter 97
Chapter 98
Chapter 99
Chapter 100
Chapter 101
Chapter 102
Chapter 103
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Chapter 109
Chapter 110
Chapter 111
Chapter 112
Chapter 113
Chapter 114
Chapter 115
Chapter 116
Chapter 117
Chapter 118
Chapter 119
Chapter 1
20
Chapter 121
Chapter 122
Chapter 123
Chapter 124
Chapter 125
Chapter 126
Chapter 127
Chapter 128
Chapter 129
Chapter 130
Chapter 131
Chapter 132
Chapter 133
Chapter 134
Chapter 135
Chapter 136
Chapter 137
Chapter 138
Chapter 139
Chapter 140
Chapter 141
Chapter 142
Chapter 143
Chapter 144
Chapter 145
Chapter 146
1
Mansuus, Mansuur
Heavy wet flakes drift past the windows of the Liedfuhr’s study, each window hung with maroon velvet drawn back to reveal an early-spring snow that has already dropped more than half a yard of whiteness on the city, and on the ice that still covers the River Toksul.
The man who stands before the windows, looking out, wears a sky-blue tunic with a silver chain bearing the amulet-seal of the Liedfuhr of Mansuur around his neck and a mourning band of black and maroon upon his left arm. For a moment, his hard green eyes flick to the ice-and-snow-covered river that cuts through the city, if well below and beyond the hill on which the palace rests. Then, he turns, standing beside the polished wooden desk that has graced the study for three generations, and asks, “You think Neserea will fall before harvest?”
“As matters now proceed, it is most likely,” replies the trim overcaptain in the maroon uniform of the Mansuuran Lancers. There are but a few streaks of raven black amid the silver-gray of the lancer’s short hair. His thin eyebrows are silvered as well, but the dark eyes are deep and intent. “Despite the efforts of the Sorceress of Defalk, Aerlya and Annayal hold but an area little more than a hundred deks around Esaria.”
“If we dispatch the fifty companies of lancers from Unduval? Then what, Bassil?” Kestrin runs his right hand through short-cropped brown hair that is already half-gray, although he will not reach his full second score of years until the turn of the following spring.
“Are you willing to risk all fifty companies? And to slaughter all those who do not support your sister and her daughter?”
Kestrin tilts his head slightly as he studies Bassil. “If I must.”
“You must. You must also avoid facing the sorcerer Lord Belmar. He is strong enough to dispatch all your lancers with his spells.”
“Unless we can catch him in a snowstorm or the rain.” Kestrin laughs.
“You risk much if you send your lancers into Neserea,” cautions the older man.
“I risk more if I do not.”
“Your seers report that the Sea-Priests are readying a fleet to sail from the Ostisles,” reports Bassil.
“They are doubtless sailing eastward, but not to Mansuur.”
Bassil raises his eyebrows, but does not speak.
Outside the private study of the Liedfuhr, the wind moans. The snowflakes are smaller, and falling faster, and the light dims as the clouds overhead darken, as if winter is returning to Mansuus.
“This Secca—Lord Robero’s new Sorceress Protector of the East—she has destroyed all the Sturinnese vessels that had threatened Liedwahr. Do you think that the Maitre of Sturinn will decide to invade us while he has forces in Dumar that are threatened by the sorceress?”
“She remains in Encora for the moment.” Bassil pauses. “Yet it is most likely that she will travel to Dumar and use her sorcery against the Sea-Priests there before the Maitre can reinforce them. That will not be easy for her. The Maitre can use the sea to land more sorcerers and lancers, but it will be weeks, if not longer, before the snows melt enough for Lord Robero to send reinforcements to Lady Secca.”
“He will not send them even then,” predicts Kestrin. “He fears Belmar as much as the Sturinnese. Lady Secca has been successful without further aid. Lady Clayre is slowly losing in Neserea, as you have pointed out, and Aerlya and Annayal may have to flee before long.”
“Where?”
Kestrin sighs. “Perhaps to Nordwei.”
“It is yet winter there.”
“And you question that I should send lancers into Neserea?”
“I cannot see how you could do otherwise—when you can. They cannot cross the snows of the Mittpass yet.” Bassil shakes his head. “If you do not dispatch them, once the snows melt, Belmar will take all of Neserea by midsummer. But…if he is as bright as he seems, he will turn to face your lancers, in order to destroy them.”
“They must not face him. Their task is to destroy those who rebelled against Aerlya.” Kestrin’s voice is hard. “If he turns, then the Sorceress of Defalk may be able to strengthen Aerlya’s hold on the north and east.”
“That is possible,” Bassil concedes, his voice neutral.
“Not likely, but possible,” Kestrin replies with a grim laugh. “Better that than we do nothing. The lady Secca may yet retake Dumar from the Sturinnese, but this Belmar is their tool, and even she will be hard-pressed if Neserea falls and the Sturinnese reinforcements land in Narial.”
“Because she will be caught between him and the Sturinnese?”
The Liedfuhr nods slowly. “Because we will then face the Sea-Priests alone.”
Outside the study, in the growing darkness, the moaning of the returning winter wind rises with the night.
2
The late-morning sunlight poured over the two-story structure that held the Matriarch’s guest quarters, but the wide second-story windows that faced west were still in shadow. The air in the main chamber was hot and still, foreshadowing summer in Encora, although by the turn of the seasons, spring had even yet to arrive.
Rather than using the small working desk that faced away from the leftmost of the three windows, Secca had seated herself at the circular golden oak conference table, her back to the windows. Alcaren sat on the opposite side of the table, leaving four chairs vacant. The tiled hearth on the south wall held several logs set on a pair of heavy iron andirons, but it had been weeks since Secca had needed a fire.
The petite and redheaded sorceress looked at the rose that lay on top of the papers before her on the conference table—a perfect white rose, appearing so delicate that the slightest breeze would rip off the petals. But like so much in Liedwahr, the rose was not what it seemed, for the petals were of white bronze and the stem of a greenish iron—and it had been Alcaren’s love gift to her, one she had never expected.
Her amber eyes went from the rose to Alcaren—narrow-waisted and broad-shouldered, almost too short for his breadth to be handsome, yet not stocky, with short-cut brown hair and gray-blue eyes. He wore the pale blue Ranuan uniform and the collar insignia of an overcaptain. As he felt Secca’s eyes upon him, he looked up from the map he had been studying and smiled warmly.
In spite of herself, Secca flushed.
“I do the same thing,” he said with a slight laugh, adding, “when you look at me.”
She shook her head. “It is hard to get used to.”
“I know. No one ever looked at me that way.”
Secca wondered about that, and yet, she didn’t. Alcaren was barely a head taller than she was, and he was striking, but not necessarily handsome. He was a largely untrained sorcerer in a land that feared sorcery, and a strong man in a land ruled by women. “We still need a consorting ceremony,” she said slowly.
“You sound dubious, my lady. Am I that much of a burden to bear?”
At the mock-woeful tone of his voice and the twinkle in his eyes, Secca laughed. “You are no burden. Far from that! Still, it is strange.”
Alcaren waited, his smile encouraging her to speak.
“It is strange, and it is not. After these years, I had not thought to find love.”
“Though I have not traveled as you have, my lady,” he replied gently, “neither had I.”
“I h
ad thought, were I ever to be consorted, it would be in Falcor, or Flossbend, or even Loiseau…not in a strange land.”
“We could wait,” he suggested. “I would not wish to rush you into such.”
Secca shook her head. “Lady Anna waited even to acknowledge her love for Lord Jecks, and I fear she lost years of happiness because she delayed.” A sad smile crossed Secca’s lips as she thought of the woman who had been more than a mentor, more than a teacher—a mother as well, in fact, if not in name. Secca doubted that she would ever recall Anna without love, emptiness, and a sense of regret that she had not told Anna how much the older woman had meant to her.