Sasha (63 page)

All three serrin smiled or bowed to her in passing, then slipped into the column behind her where Jaryd, Sofy and Daryd reined back a little to let them in. The thunder of hooves resumed in full, an endless, drumming rhythm, heading north.

“So explain this to me,” Sasha asked curiously. “Why are you here?”

“For the same reason you are here,” Errollyn said plainly. “To save the Udalyn.”

Sasha frowned at him. “You are from Petrodor?” Errollyn nodded. It seemed logical—many serrin served Saalshen in Petrodor. “It's a thirty-day journey to Petrodor in the best weather, I did not know the Udalyn were threatened until a few days ago. Word would have taken a full month to reach you, and another month for you to reach here.”

Errollyn smiled. Beneath a thick, slightly shaggy fringe, his deep green eyes flickered with amusement. Those eyes seemed to glow, with startling colour, as if with some inner light of their own. He reminded Sasha somehow of a wolf—handsome, broad-shouldered and intelligent…but just a little bit scruffy.

“You are familiar with the tales of Leyvaan the Fool?” he asked her.

“The ones that everyone is familiar with, certainly.”

“When his army invaded Saalshen, two centuries ago, he took us completely by surprise. Many villages were destroyed, their inhabitants slaughtered, because ever naive in the ways of humans, we did not see them coming. Saalshen is vast, more so than Lenayin, and much of its terrain is rugged, with roads that are slow in even good weather. It can take months to spread word from one side to the other. And yet, within a quarter-moon of the invasion, serrin forces from all over Saalshen were massing in the hills beyond the plain. Did you never wonder how they knew where to come?”

Sasha frowned. Beyond the approaching treeline, open fields glowed green in the midmorning sun. “The lay of the land in Saalshen is not well known to any humans, even the Nasi-Keth,” she replied. “Without knowing that, we can't begin to speculate.”

“They knew to come,” said Errollyn, “as I knew to come.”

Sasha waited a moment, before realising there was no more. “And how was that?” she pressed.

Errollyn's smile grew broader. He seemed quite young…although that was frequently deceptive with serrin. “We are serrinim. We know.”

She looked at him for a long moment. The trees ended and they broke into the mottled sunshine of the paddocks. They were riding through green pastures in the shelter of a small valley.

“Right,” said Sasha, blandly. “If you won't tell me how, at least tell me why. Why should the serrinim wish the Udalyn saved?”

Errollyn took a deep breath, his amusement fading. He gazed ahead, past the vanguard, up the length of the lovely green valley. “I never said they did,” he replied. “I wish the Udalyn saved. I and my
esvaderlin
.”

A group, that meant, in Saalsi. Of some indeterminate significance that doubtless changed depending on the context. Saalsi was by far the least precise and most infuriating language Sasha knew. And also by far the most poetic, subtle and beautiful.

“Why?” Sasha pressed, determined to get at least one straight answer.

Errollyn raised an eyebrow at her. “Why do
you
wish them saved?”

Sasha snorted. “You know, just once in my life, I'd like to meet a serrin who didn't answer every question with a question.”

Errollyn laughed. “All the world is a question in search of an answer, and in truth, the truest answers are themselves only questions.” Sasha's gaze was decidedly unimpressed. Errollyn repressed another laugh with difficulty. “I apologise. Human humour isn't what it used to be.”

He was teasing her, she realised. “Serrin humour neither,” she retorted with a glare.

Errollyn only seemed to find that more amusing. And he sighed, calming himself with difficulty. “I can't imagine anything more tragic than to lose an entire people,” he said sombrely. “An entire culture. My
esvaderlin
feel likewise. Aisha loves the writings of Tullamayne…she's the little one with the blonde hair and blue eyes.”

Sasha glanced about in her saddle. The woman with the short blue hair was talking to Sofy, with great animation on both sides. Behind them, little Aisha had introduced herself to Daryd and Rysha, and the conversation there involved many hand signals…although, given the serrin skill with tongues, Sasha would not have been surprised if Aisha spoke fluent Edu by the time they reached the valley. Nearer, the tall man spoke with Jaryd, pointing to irrigation along the valley sides, and asking curious questions that Sasha was uncertain Jaryd would know how to answer. Sociable serrin—in love with words and endlessly fascinated by new things.

“The tall one is Terel,” Errollyn added. “The other woman is Tassi. We all decided to come. We are only four, but we see better than you by night and we fight with the svaalverd. I had thought that all assistance would be welcomed, however small.”

“It is,” Sasha assured him. “You sound disappointed at your numbers.”

“Aye,” said Errollyn, a little tiredly. “I had hoped for more. But the serrinim of Petrodor are hard pressed, with war brewing in the Bacosh and many things afoot. We were forbidden to bring even this many. Yet we came.”

Sasha blinked. “You disobeyed an order not to come?”

“Order,” said Errollyn, as if tasting the word. And shook his head. “Not an order. These concepts don't translate well from our tongue to yours. Rhillian was unhappy, but she did not order. She cannot. I am not within her
ra'shi
, I have my own. My concerns are not always hers. These three friends followed me, for reasons of their own.”

“This Rhillian,” Sasha ventured. “I've heard she had much
ra'shi
, amongst the serrinim. Is she your friend?”

“Yes,” said Errollyn. “And no. Her intentions are kind, yet her methods are not approved by all. She is my friend in that I have good feelings for her and she for me. And yet she is not my friend, for we argue and I will not obey her every instruction as many have resolved to do.”

Sasha took a deep breath. Sinking into serrin-thought was like climbing into a hot bath—best done slowly, one bit of skin at a time. “You have
ra'shi
of your own, then?” she asked.

“Everyone has
ra'shi
,” Errollyn said vaguely, his eyes upon a little farming cottage ahead. Some figures were running from the valley's far slope toward the cottage, waving. “On this question, mine agrees with my
esvaderlin
and disagrees with Rhillian's.” He gave her a sideways glance. “You're thinking of human leadership…
ra'shi
is not the same. Serrin do not appoint themselves leaders, nor is the loyalty of others within an individual's
ra'shi
, the same as the men in this column might have for you, or for Captain Tyrun. It is more…more a…a mutual consent of those within one
ra'shi
to appoint one who shall lead, on this matter, and for this time, at least. Does that make sense?”

Sasha grinned. “No.” Errollyn sighed. “But you're serrin. I forgive you.”

C
RYLISS, CAPITAL OF
V
ALHANAN, WAS A MESS
. Rumours had spread in advance of a great, bloodthirsty Goeren-yai force advancing from Baen-Tar. With Great Lord Kumaryn and his fellow nobles mostly away at Rathynal, the remaining Cryliss nobility had panicked. Some had gathered belongings and fled for the hills, while others had attacked the few Goeren-yai who lived on the city outskirts.

Some cityfolk came out to greet the army as it marched into the city, followed by perhaps a hundred honourable Verenthanes who made a line across the main road, prepared to lay down their lives if the army did not have honourable intentions. A short talk with Captain Tyrun and several of the column's other Verenthanes convinced them to disperse, and even to organise supplies and spread word that the rumours of rape and pillage were lies.

At the Yethl River running through the city's heart, the column paused for a drink and some food. The toll amongst the Cryliss Goeren-yai was not as bad as first feared—four confirmed dead, but plenty of friendly Verenthanes had protected the others. The names of the murderers had been taken, some said coldly, and an officer of the king would be sought for justice.

It was not long before Andreyis arrived, insisting that there were some people Sasha should meet. He led the way along the riverbank, past more soldiers and horses than Sasha had ever seen in her life. Hooves churned the green grass as group after group led their animals to drink. She could barely see more than ten strides in any direction past the press of animal bodies and the forest of legs, but Andreyis seemed to know where to go. Sasha found herself watching the horses as she went, judging their character with a practised eye…perhaps half were lowland breeds and the other half either dussieh or part-dussieh.

The character of the column had changed. Now, instead of being predominantly line company troops, they were an army of many townsmen and villagers. Formidable warriors all, their skills forged in the many training halls of Lenayin. As cavalry, they were less impressive—a horse was a great expense and few could own one. Amongst those who did own horses, dedicated cavalry training was of uneven standard.

Andreyis found the Baerlyn contingent further from the river, their horses feeding from one of the hay piles some Cryliss Goeren-yai farmers had deposited across the fields. Jaegar was there, in laughing conversation with several men from another village, and looking the happiest Sasha had seen him in years. He hugged her tight enough to give her fear for her ribs, much to the awe of the other men. Then she clasped forearms with Byorn of the training hall, and his friend Madyn, and cheerful Illys the wood craftsman who played a mean reed pipe…and then others were coming, and she realised that there were far more men in the Baerlyn contingent than she'd have expected.

A familiar whinny caught her attention, and she looked at the horses to see a very familiar, white-starred face looking her way. “Chersey!” she exclaimed, and ran to the mare, who greeted her with a friendly nuzzle. Another shoved past Chersey with a loud, friendly greeting…“Ussey!” She hugged the young gelding about the neck and, looking wildly about, realised that all her horses were here. The stables of the ranch had been emptied.

Of course they'd emptied the stables, the more horses available, the more men who could join the column. But her horses were a part of her memories of home, happy, safe and comforting…

“Don't worry, girl,” Jaegar said with a gruff grin, as Chersey nudged her in the stomach and Ussey blew in her face, “we'll look after your blasted horses.”

Sasha gave him a helpless, protesting look…it was shameful—she should have been more worried for the lives of her Baerlyn friends. And she was, dreadfully so…and yet, this was different. From the look on Jaegar's face, however, she knew that he understood.

There came a cry from her left, then, and she was only half surprised when a slim tangle of red-haired curls came sprinting her way and threw herself into Sasha's embrace. Sasha gave the men an exasperated look over Lynette's head, and many of them found interest in things elsewhere, or scratched their heads, looking uncomfortable.

“What were we going to tell her?” Byorn protested. “You left her in charge of the horses, and her father's the only one who can control her anyhow…”

“Oh, they're all so pathetic on horses, Sasha!” Lynette shot back, disentangling herself. Her pale, freckled face was strong with determination. “And Ussey here gets nervous in crowds and needs to have a friend in sight, and Dass has a sore hoof that needs watching on a long trip, and none of this lot knows what to do because they've little enough experience riding anyhow…”

“She's been good,” Jaegar admitted, ruffling Lynette's hair. “Bossy, but useful. She's been riding up and down our little column, talking with each man, telling them each horse's personality, how to ride them, then how to groom and care for them properly on each break. They're not
such
complete novices on horses,” with a wry glance at Lynette, “those men like me who own them have shared plenty of times of drill and practice. But the deal was she'd come as far as Cryliss. And no further.”

Lynette gave Sasha a desperate look. “Sasha, you'll need someone to look after the other horses too…I'm good at that, I could help!”

“I'm sorry, Lynie,” said Sasha, shaking her head. “No.”

“But why not?”

“You're not a soldier. You can't fight. If this were a foot campaign, then maybe, but there's no safe rear for noncombatants in a mounted campaign. The fighting could come from anywhere, you could be in it, and I can't spare anyone to protect you. I don't doubt you would be useful, but no.”

“But Princess Sofy's going!” Lynette protested. “She can't fight either!”

Sasha stared at the men, who again looked uncomfortable. How had
that
news spread ahead of the column so fast? Perhaps it hadn't, she realised. Perhaps it had spread just now, shortly after arriving in Cryliss.

“And I'd drop Sofy in Cryliss if I could,” Sasha said sternly. “But having ridden with us this far, she's now a target. I don't wish to insult Cryliss Verenthanes, I'm sure most of them are honourable, but I've no telling which are which on such short notice, and I can't be sure she'd be safe here. She stays with us because I deem it safer, but already she costs us several good men to watch over her. I can't spare several more to defend you, and if left alone, you can't defend yourself. Absolutely not.”