Winds of Fury by Mercedes Lackey Page B

ask you some questions that have puzzled me.”
    Since that was not a direct question, Falconsbane made no answering comment. Ancar waited for a moment, then said sharply, “What is your true name? And where do you come from?”
    The coercions tightened about his mind, forcing answers from him, but he made them as literal as he could. “Mornelithe Falconsbane. I came from the Void, where you found me.”
    That last was enough to confuse him. Falconsbane preferred that Ancar not learn his true place of origin. Not yet, at least.
    Ancar’s brow furrowed as he considered this. “Are you an Adept?” he asked at last. “Are you a demon?”
    â€œYes,” Falconsbane replied quickly. “No.”
    â€œBut you are not human—” Ancar persisted, but since it was not a question, nothing compelled Falconsbane to answer, and Ancar glared at him in frustration. Falconsbane kept his own expression bland and smooth.
    â€œDo you know who I am?” Ancar asked at last—then, finally realizing what game Falconsbane was playing, changed his question to an order, backed by the coercive spells. “Tell me what you know of me!” he demanded.
    Mentally cursing, Falconsbane did as he was told. That Ancar was a ruler and a mage, and that his enemies were the Outlanders who rode white horses as a kind of badge. That the king was the one who had cast the spell that had brought Falconsbane out of the Void, and had cast coercive spells to make Falconsbane his captive. Ancar listened to the little that Falconsbane could tell him, then stroked his beard for a moment in thought.
    â€œI am going to give you some information I wish you to think about,” he said at last, “because I am certain that once you are aware of who and what you are dealing with, you will be disposed to cooperate. I am Ancar, King of Hardorn, and the most powerful mage in this kingdom. I am, as you surmised, the enemy of those you called ‘Outlanders,’ the folk of Valdemar who ride those white witch-horses you described. They are known as ‘Heralds,’ and they possess a certain mastery of mind-magic. I intend to conquer them, and to that end, I require the abilities of an Adept, for their Kingdom has protection against true magic. Not only does it not operate within their border, but mages who attempt to cross that border are driven mad within a short time of trying to exercise their powers. So, you are both useful and necessary to me—but not so necessary that I cannot do without you. Keep that in mind.”
    He smiled, and Falconsbane refrained from snarling. The boy’s rhetoric was incredibly heavy-handed. How he had managed to keep himself on his throne, Falconsbane could not imagine. Luck, the help of someone more skilled than he was, or both.
    â€œNow,” Ancar continued silkily, “I have every intention of seeing that you are brought to your full health. If you cooperate fully with me, I shall be certain that you are rewarded. If you do not—I shall force your cooperation, and dispose of you when I no longer need you. The situation is just that simple.”
    He did not wait for an answer this time, but simply turned and left, and Falconsbane felt mage-locks clicking into place behind him.
    Slowly, Falconsbane pushed himself into a sitting position, his anger giving him more energy to move than he had thought he possessed. There was food and drink on the table beside the bed; Falconsbane helped himself to both while he still had the strength to do so, and then, when his head began to swim a little., lowered himself back down again.
    But although he was prone, his mind continued to work. Ancar had revealed more than he had known, for although he was wearing a mage-constructed shield protecting his thoughts, his expression was perfectly open, and his body had revealed things his words had not.
    His hold upon his throne was by no means as secure as he would like