Tracato: A Trial of Blood and Steel Book Three (43 page)

It was almost as though…almost as though…but she pushed the thought aside, for later contemplation.

Light from the Justiciary hall had nearly vanished, when a yellow lamp lit the way from below. The descending corridor bent, and suddenly, she saw the guard room and a man who looked to be Civid Sein holding a lamp, gazing up the stairs toward her. Sasha merely kept walking, as though she had every right to be there, as the man looked at her curiously, perhaps not making the connection between the girl who had been taken from these dungeons not long before in chains, and this one with a Nasi-Keth blade in her hand.

Suddenly his eyes widened, and he yelled a warning, a hand reaching to his sword. Sasha pressed on, unsurprised by the attack from her right by the second guard as she followed the retreating man into the room. One parry and a diagonal slash dropped his corpse to the flagstones. The first man
dropped his lantern, a flash of flame as serrin oil erupted. Sasha ducked past it, and took the man’s sword hand off at the wrist. He screamed and fell to his knees. Sasha stood over him, sword at his neck as he tried to stop the terrible bleeding, stuffing the stump under his armpit and squeezing.

“In which cell is the serrin? Or your head will be next.”

She found her way down more stairs with another lantern from the guardroom, leaving the guard sprawled unconscious from a blow to the head. He might die from blood loss while asleep. Sasha didn’t care—she hadn’t cut his head off, so her honour was intact.

One door before the corner the guard had indicated, she stopped, and inserted the selected key from the great key ring. The door unlocked, and she pulled it squealing open and crept inside.

Errollyn lay on his back on dirty straw, his torso a criss-cross of cuts and dried blood. His wrists were free, his arms loose, only his ankles chained. His eyes slitted open to look at her, as she placed the lantern down, and knelt at his side.

“Errollyn.” There was sanity in those eyes, blazing green in the lamplight. And pain. “Errollyn, can you move?”

“Did you take your revenge?” he asked her hoarsely.

Sasha nodded. “The big bald one from the dungeons,” she said. “Perone. Timoth Salo. Some others too.”

“Reynold?” Sasha shook her head, bitterly. “Then I have reason still to live. Let me out.”

Sasha used the keys, and released his ankles. “The Steel are attacking,” she told him as she worked. “It should be over very soon.”

“It could be no other way,” said Errollyn though gritted teeth. “This portion of humanity has become diseased. It must be cut out.”

“Your wounds will turn bad,” Sasha worried. “I have to get you to the Mahl’rhen, they can heal such things best.”

“We have to fetch Alythia first,” said Errollyn. “Do you know where she…”

“Alythia’s dead,” Sasha said shortly, as the last manacle released. She made to haul Errollyn to his feet. Errollyn clasped her hand, but did not move.

“You’re certain?” he asked, shocked. Sasha nodded, unwilling to speak more. She tried to haul Errollyn upright once more, but again he resisted. “How do you know?”

“Errollyn, not now. She’s gone, I must get you to the Mahl’rhen. If you get some disease of the blood it may already be too—”

“Sasha!” Errollyn insisted, with pain on his face that was not all from his
wounds. “I cannot claim to know your loss, but she was my friend too, and I cannot leave without knowing for certain!”

Sasha could not meet his gaze. “I saw her head,” she barely managed to force out. She was trembling. “They threw it into my cell.” Errollyn looked stricken. “I spent…I spent half the night with it….”

She curled over, straining as though with a new, physical agony, trying to contain the sobs. Errollyn grabbed her shoulders with chafed, bloody hands and pressed his face to hers. Sasha tried to breathe deep, tried to calm. Errollyn was here, and alive. The nightmare was passing. Somehow, she managed to straighten.

“Let’s go.”

By the time they’d limped to the guardroom, Sasha could hear that the sounds from the Justiciary hall had changed. She could hear armour rattling, and the yelling of orders, disciplined and purposeful. The Steel were here already, and the Civid Sein lines had collapsed.

As she stood listening, Errollyn’s arm about her shoulders for support, a pair of lithe shapes came soundlessly down the stairs. Eyes blazed in the lamplight, one pair gold, another hazel. They paused, and shouted something back up the stairs in a Saalshen tongue Sasha did not recognise, then came to Errollyn and helped him up the stairs. Another serrin offered Sasha an arm, but she waved him away, and climbed up to the main floor while keeping to one side of the stairs, as more serrin came rushing down, swords in hand.

Soldiers of the Steel now guarded every doorway, stairway and archway of the Justiciary, Sasha saw, blinking in the light. There were some fresh corpses on the ground, blood pooling, and other soldiers dragged prisoners, arms twisted behind their backs. The chaos of wounded continued across the floor nearest the grand entrance, left undisturbed by the soldiers. Officers and some serrin now walked among the wounded, looking at faces, searching for certain individuals. They would find Reynold, if he were still hidden here.

Sasha shielded her eyes as she stepped out into the day. It was warm, the sky a cloudless blue, and the peaked rooftops of Tracato’s elegant buildings seemed to mock her with their beauty. Upon the wide stairs lay more bodies, blood flowing as though down a series of waterfalls. There were soldiers everywhere, and horses, and already some horse-drawn wagons, with men to load the corpses into the back. The efficiency of the Steel amazed her.

A serrin came to them, leading another, smaller serrin in a wide hat, a bloodstained blade in her hand. Aisha. She met them at the base of the steps, and would have hugged Errollyn ferociously had his wounds not given her pause. She hugged Sasha instead, gently, with shock in her eyes. Fury quickly followed.

“Who was it?” she asked quietly. “I’ll have them killed.”

“Already done,” said Sasha. “All save Reynold Hein. He got away, but he’s mine if you find him.”

“Mine,” Errollyn said hoarsely.

“Oh merciful light,” Aisha muttered, observing his cuts more closely. “I’ll have you at the Mahl’rhen shortly, just let me commandeer one of these carts.”

Errollyn eased himself down onto the lowest step, and Sasha sat alongside. Sitting hurt terribly. Every new position did. And every old one. She was certain Errollyn felt much worse. He looked up, to regard the blue sky. A serrin placed her hat upon his head, yet still he squinted fiercely beneath its broad brim.

“It’s a beautiful day,” he said. Soldiers dragged the bloodied corpses of young men away from the steps. One of them, Sasha saw, was a Nasi-Keth who had sometimes sat in her Lenay classes. A young man, happy, idealistic, passionate about his city and his people. He left a long, thick trail of blood as they dragged him away.

“Yes, it is,” said Sasha. Thud, went the body, into the cart. She felt nothing at all.

E
RROLLYN AWOKE TO A LOVELY DAY.
It was not the same day as he recalled, leaving the Justiciary with Sasha, the day that freedom had returned. He knew because he thought of other times between—brief, blurred snatches of time, between sleep, between consciousness and waking, between night and day. He did not know how much time had passed. Through the blur of pain, it was a struggle to know anything.

The room could only have been in the Mahl’rhen. It was circular, and half exposed to a courtyard, save for silk curtains that drifted in the breeze. There was a jug and cups on the bedside table. He reached, gingerly, wincing at the pain of that movement. The cup held water, and he sipped with difficulty from flat on his back, relief in his parched mouth. From the courtyard, he could hear a fountain tinkling and children playing.

A little serrin boy pushed through the curtain and stared at him, then ran away, shouting for someone. Several more children came to the curtain, whispering amongst themselves. Errollyn stared at the ceiling, wishing for privacy. He’d always liked solitude. Fellow serrinim had always considered that odd. Most serrin loved company, and became lonely without conversation. But then, he was accustomed to other serrin considering him odd.

Soon Aisha arrived, with a tray of food, a small feast of fruits, bread, sliced cheese, condiments and spiced meats. She sat on the side of his bed, leaned over and looked him closely in the eyes.

“How long?” Errollyn murmured.

Aisha shook her head. “Not long. You were awake this morning, you probably don’t remember.” Errollyn shook his head, and that hurt too. “Helsen is treating you, his lore is vast.” Her eyes flicked down to his torso, bare above the sheet. Errollyn looked too. There were bandages tied over the worst cuts. Lesser cuts were exposed, inflamed red and unpleasant to look at. “How do you feel?”

“Numb. Except for when I move. And my back is murder.”

“You will have to roll over soon,” said Aisha, nodding. “And spend some time sitting or standing, however bad you feel, those cuts need air. I’d recommend the pools.”

Errollyn nodded. “How’s Sasha?”

“Last I saw, she was fine,” said Aisha. Her blue eyes held concern. “She will recover quickly enough. Three weeks, perhaps.”

“Where is she? I want to see her.”

Aisha took a deep breath. “She left, Errollyn.”

“Left where? What do you mean…?”

“She left.” The concern in Aisha’s eyes now mixed with sadness. “Her worst injuries are not physical. I’ve never seen her so…cold. There are serrin here who would detain her once more, they see only that she acted against Rhillian, and thus against Saalshen. I helped her to get out before a decision could be made, and after she’d received some treatment. She was very sad to leave you. She sat where I sit now, and kissed you and cried. But she could not stay. I saw something terrible in her eyes. I fear it drives her.”

Errollyn’s heart thumped. “I don’t understand,” he said. “She is at the Tol’rhen, surely? With Kessligh?”

“She intends to head for Larosa,” Aisha said quietly. “She will join with the Army of Lenayin. But I do not repeat it loudly, else riders be dispatched to catch her.”

“She’s crazy.” Errollyn squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back panic. “She’s crazy, she’ll be caught.” He wanted to rise. To pull on clothes, grab a horse and ride after her. But the thought of even sitting upright made him nauseous.

“There are some she could ride with who would make a good escort,” Aisha whispered. “They know the roads well, and have many helpers.”

Of course. Errollyn let out a long, slow breath, and felt the tension fade. It made sense. Suddenly, it all made sense. He knew her that well, and she was not insane. Sasha’s position in Tracato had become nearly impossible. She had acted against the serrin, and thus damaged the relationship between the Mal’rhen and Tol’rhen, between Rhillian and Kessligh. With the Civid Sein now largely defeated, Saalshen and Nasi-Keth in Tracato needed urgently to unite, to help restore the shaken foundation of Rhodaani society. It would be better, perhaps, were Sasha not here.

And Sasha had lost her sister. It meant things to a human, and a Lenay in particular, that even a
du’jannah
like Errollyn could not begin to comprehend. He feared for her, in her grief. A serrin in grief could at least feel the comfort of the serrinim. A human in grief would feel alone. Perhaps that was it, he realised. All serrin were one family. Perhaps this loss was a loss that, for Sasha, could only be borne with the help of family. It hurt that she did not consider him as such…but then, he had known Alythia only briefly, and could not know the depth of what it meant to lose her. It did not mean Sasha loved him any less. It merely meant that he could not understand.

He took another deep breath. “If I had not told Rhillian, then Alythia may still be…”

“No,” Aisha insisted. “It was not you. Rhillian would have found out Lady Renine’s plans, already she suspected, and then Alythia would have been detained anyhow. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Sasha may not feel that way.”

“She did not want to leave. She was sad to leave you.”

“Yet she did.” Aisha said nothing. “I’ll miss her,” Errollyn said weakly.

“I too. But Sasha is a force of nature. She cannot be contained, and it will take more than a great war to stop her. You and she will meet again, I am certain.” Aisha leaned and kissed him on the forehead. “Now eat. I’ll see you fed if I need to stuff it down your throat.”

Late that afternoon, Errollyn managed to limp as far as the pool in the courtyard. Helsen’s uma, a lad named Irin, helped to remove his bandages, then left him to soak naked in the cool water. For a while, his wounds stung so badly it brought tears to his eyes. Then the pain faded, and he even managed to walk back and forth, confident at least that in the water, he could not lose balance and fall.

The afternoon’s activity continued as high cloud turned to evening pink, and lamps began to illuminate the columns, paths and gardens. Some serrin looked at him in passing, and a few paused at the pool’s edge, hoping to talk. Errollyn ignored them, and they went away. His wounds tugged at his skin in dozens of different ways. Like sharp, foreign objects, digging into him whenever he moved.