spymistress

Gretslen sits, her eyes darting nervously from the black agate oval on the flat polished wood to the spymistress, then to the window, and back to Ashtaar.

Darksong Rising Modesitt, L. E. 1999

The spymistress returns to the window, where she surveys the city that is Wei, the city built on one ideal.

Darksong Rising Modesitt, L. E. 1999

"One might even call hers a terrible beauty," suggests the spymistress.

Darksong Rising Modesitt, L. E. 1999

Gretslen bows as she enters, and again as she approaches the table where the dark-haired spymistress waits.

Darksong Rising Modesitt, L. E. 1999

"From this you would conclude what?" asks the spymistress.

Darksong Rising Modesitt, L. E. 1999

WEI, NORDWEI THE dark-haired spymistress glances from the desk-table where she sits in the black high-backed chair toward the single wide window.

The Spellsong War Modesitt, L. E. 1998

"The worst is yet to come," predicts the spymistress.

The Spellsong War Modesitt, L. E. 1998

Her dark eyes hold Ashtaar as the spymistress walks down the dark green carpet toward the space below the dais holding the table.

The Spellsong War Modesitt, L. E. 1998

At the knock on the door, the spymistress turns, returning her thoughts to the room illuminated softly by the wall-hung brass luminaries.

The Spellsong War Modesitt, L. E. 1998

The spymistress looks toward the door, her fingers still tight around the black agate oval.

The Soprano Sorceress Modesitt, L. E. 1997