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more coins we don't have, or armsmen." She took a deep breath. "I wonder if
Ebra will always be a problem?"
"What would you do?"
Anna frowned. "I can't do anything about it, except for sending him a few more
golds, but I worry about the mess in Ebra. Menares said something about
Bertmynn sending troops to Elahwa to take over the city from the people. I
tried to find out something in the scrying pool the other day. He's loading
barges with armsmen. but I don't even know who holds Elahwa." Anna looked at
Jecks.
"There are rumors... you recall the blades you tried to purchase?"
"Yes. Some trader bought them."
"They were sent to Elahwa-by the SouthWomen."
Anna sighed. "So the Matriarch is trying to grab some territory, too?"
"No. The South Women and the Matriarch-"
"Oh... Lady Essan told me something about that. The SouthWomen are the
radicals..." Anna wanted to smile at the puzzled look that crossed Jecks' face
when she used political terms from Earth. "And they sent the b1ades... to
these free-women that Hadrenn wrote me about in his scroll? Does that mean
they're trying to set up a land for themselves?" Lord, all you need is a bunch
of
Liedwahran radical feminists with blades starting another conflict to
complicate things.
"I do not know." Jecks frowned. "The SouthWomen keep matters to themselves."
Anna nodded. "Another thing to keep track of. We ought to send a few golds to
Hadrenn. How many, do you think?"
"A hundred, if you can spare them."
"Will you take care of that before we leave for Fussen?" I will."
"Thank you." Anna didn't have to force the smile.
11
DOLOV, EBRA
What news, Ceorwyn?" The blond man in the burgundy tunic smiles warmly as the
gray-haired figure in battle leathers steps across the time-polished stones of
the north wall of Castle Dolov.
"What we expected, Lord Bertmynn," answers Ceorwyn. "A Ranuan trader slipped
past the Shoals of Discord, and ported in Elahwa. The cargo was grain from
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Encora-grain and blades supplied by the SouthWomen to the freewomen. The free-
women now hold both the north and south sides of the river- and perhaps three
leagues west along the river."
"The Matriarch, for all her talk of peace and harmony!" Bertmynn's smile
vanishes with his snort. "Yet she sends cold iron to arm those rebel women.
Ceorwyn shakes his head. "No...your seer-Lessted...
"Lessted. What says he?" asks Bertmynn, an ironic cast sliding across his
smile.
"The arms came against the will of the Matriarch. The old woman struggles with
her own Mercantile Exchange as well as with the SouthWomen. That is why she
will throw what support she can into allowing the Sorceress of Defalk generous
terms in repaying the debts incurred by Defalk in years past."
"Better yet if the bitches of the south are disunited. Still, I like it less
that the Matriarch speaks well of the... sorceress."
Ceorwyn nods.
Bertmynn turns and rests his elbows on the sun-warmed stone of the rampart,
looking westward and downhill across the city to the wharves that line the
eastern shore of the River Dol. He fingers his curly blond beard before
asking, "Are the barges ready?"
"Not before weekend, sire," replies the armsmaster. "Or perchance later."
"I had thought as much. Promises come easy, but actions lag those promises."
Bertmynn stretches, and his near-two-yard height becomes more apparent, even
beside the tall and muscular Ceorwyn.
"The bargemasters would not act until they received the advance golds you
promised."
"We have enough golds to take the city before winter. Hadrenn cannot wage a
winter war, and both the Sturinnese and the Liedfuhr will supply us." A wry
smile crosses Bertmynn's lips, and even his clear blue eyes smile. "Especially
now that cousin Hadrenn has thrown in with the sorceress."
"He would claim you left him no choice," points out Ceorwyn.
"I would have left him Synek and even Vult...."
"All that is left of Vult is the Zauberinfeuer-and it continues to spread its
lava across what was once a fertile valley."
"Proof enough that the Regent-sorceress is evil, do you not think, Ceorwyn?"
"I am loath to call any ruler who has saved her land evil, sire. Best you know
that" Ceorwyn looks up as he faces his lord, but his dark brown eyes are clear
and steady.
"Yet you serve me."
"I owe you, sire. But owing you and following you does not mean I should
abandon my judgment" Ceorwyn smiles ironically. "By overthrowing the Evult,
the sorceress has granted you the chance to reclaim the lands of your great
uncle.
She has also freed her own people, and retained the old succession by choosing
to act as Regent for young Jimbob. It is also said that she avoids the use of
Darksong, though she has the power to call upon it. Few of power such as hers
would act so."
"Coerwyn... honest and forthright." Bertmynn smiles broadly, shaking his head
as he does. "Yet you serve me. What other cautions have you?"
"Beware the Sturinnese. You saw how they promised friendship to Lord Ehara of
Dumar. Yet they risked no more ships when the sorceress destroyed their fleet
and hounded Ehara to his death. Nor did they send armsmen or ships against
Defalk in retribution. Best you be most careful, sire. Lord Ehara thought the
Sturinnese were his allies also. He lies dead in the ruins of Envaryl, and
Dumar pays tribute to Defalk, and Sturinn does not act."
'The Sturinnese will aid us. Who else will they aid?"
'They will aid you so long as the coins are few, and you make life unpleasant
for the sorcercess... and no longer. Should you defeat Hadrenn early on, you
will see no more coins from either the Liedfuhr or the Maitre of Sturinn."
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Bertmynn laughs. "You would counsel me against attacking my posturing cousin?" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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