Tracato: A Trial of Blood and Steel Book Three (44 page)

More footsteps approached, with the tapping of a cane. Errollyn looked up, walking in shoulder-depth water, and saw Kessligh, heading toward him. Kessligh pulled off his boots, rolled up his pants, and sat on the pool’s edge beside Errollyn, feet dangling in the water.

“Kid,” said Kessligh, looking down at his wounds, “you’re a mess.”

“I’ll heal,” said Errollyn. “And I won’t require a cane.”

“Sasha didn’t want to leave you,” said Kessligh, gazing across the courtyard. “That hurt her more than anything. But she couldn’t wait either, and you’re in far worse shape than her. Where she’s going, you wouldn’t be safe.”

Errollyn nodded. “Larosa’s not the friendliest, to serrin.” He looked up at Kessligh. “You let her go?”

“Whenever someone asked me something like that, I used to just shrug, and say that with Sasha, it wasn’t a matter of ‘letting’ her do anything.” He cracked a knuckle, absently. “But yes. I let her go. Lenay honour declares that family must tell family of their losses in person. And she was an inconvenience for me here. Kiel’s bunch want her dead.”

“Kiel has a ‘bunch’ now?” Errollyn asked drily.

“His own
ra’shi
, no less,” Kessligh said. “Pray that it does not come to rival Rhillian’s.”

“I come to fear Rhillian is no improvement.”

“Never think so,” said Kessligh firmly. “She visited Sasha in her cell. Sasha told me. Rhillian was upset at the torture. She did not mention the visit, last I spoke with her, so she did not do it merely to curry favour with me. Whatever her bloody methods, Rhillian’s heart remains intact. Kiel is of the opinion that a heart is Saalshen’s vulnerability. He strives to make a philosophical case that proves it.”

Errollyn shook his head. “There was a time when I used to worry about the actions of my enemies,” he said. “Now I learn that it’s the actions of those we love that hurt us most.”

“Hurt, perhaps,” said Kessligh. “But we have both underestimated Rhillian. She knew she had to act against Lady Renine, and fully expected the Civid Sein to over reach once she did. She waited until they did, and disgusted any in the Steel who still sympathised, then used the Steel to crush them. Now the feudalists are chastened, and the Civid Sein decimated, their leadership killed or in hiding. Rhillian can depart for the front, with the Steel, and have less care for destabilising influences in Tracato.”

“Hell of a way to do it,” Errollyn muttered. “You’re sure she didn’t just get lucky?”

“You don’t think I was ever lucky?” Kessligh replied. “The Tol’rhen is strangely quiet. We lost a lot of fools.”

“Good,” said Errollyn. “Fools are no use to anyone.” Kessligh did not reply. He’d spent a long time since his arrival in Tracato, Errollyn realised, attempting to persuade the Nasi-Keth of his ideas. A strong Nasi-Keth, supporting Saalshen’s forces. A bedrock of stability, to make a strong foundation for Rhodaan. Instead, the Nasi-Keth had split, as in Petrodor, and made arguably more trouble than it had solved. “It is the way, isn’t it? With humans and free thought. They only learn through terrible mistakes. Free thought does not make wisdom. Instead it creates enough space for men to commit terrible folly, from which the survivors learn through disaster.”

“I tried to tell them,” Kessligh said tiredly. “I tried. Revolutionary ideals may be wonderful, but revolutions are nasty. You can’t cure a headache by cutting off the patient’s head. But they wouldn’t listen. Only now do the survivors understand…and even now, some aren’t convinced. They speak only of Rhillian’s betrayal, not their own stupidity.”

“Some people cannot be argued with,” Errollyn said quietly. “Many serrin have argued that religion be banned in the Saalshen Bacosh, because most of those preaching death to all serrin were Verenthanes and priests. But
Maldereld argued that such teachings in religion were a symptom, not a cause. The thinking that gives birth to all the hatred is not born in religion, it merely finds a home there. Deprived of that home, it can find others.”

“For all her cunning, Rhillian may have overdone it,” said Kessligh. “She had no choice, the Civid Sein were getting out of hand, as is the nature of such things. But there was carnage at the Justiciary, the feudalists are regaining control of much of the city as surviving Civid Sein flee, and the Steel are marching for the west at last. After all that has happened, very little has changed, save a huge pile of corpses. Council will be reinstated soon, and probably the feudalists shall find friendly faces to replace those of their own who’ve been murdered. I will talk with the feudalists. Many are sensible, and seek only to focus now on defeating the Larosans. But many others recall Rhillian’s initial betrayal, and that of the Steel. With the Steel departing, I fear for the safety of the Mahl’rhen, and all serrin in Tracato.”

“They would be unwise to pick a fight with Saalshen in this city. The svaalverd is well suited to the streets and alleys.”

“I come to talk with Lesthen,” said Kessligh. “He promises more
talmaad
from Saalshen. I will see if he can bring some to Tracato.”

“How many come shortly?”

“Perhaps five hundred. Some of Rhillian’s force from Elisse are returning from those lands. Other serrin are arriving in southern Elisse, to help the peasants rebuild. It takes fewer numbers than they’d thought, since the lords continue to hold sway in the north, thanks to General Zulmaher.”

“Zulmaher,” said Errollyn, as it occurred to him. “What happened to him?”

“No one knows. Same with little Alfriedo. There is no sign of either.”

Errollyn gave him a long look, however it hurt his neck. “Those two together…”

“They’ll be deep in feudalist territory, and we have nothing like the force to do anything about it, with the Steel gone. But I wanted to ask you something. The
talmaad
will need commanders, any that Lesthen brings from Saalshen will have little enough experience in battle, and Sasha tells me you’re one of the best horseback fighters she’s seen.”

“I’m out of practice,” said Errollyn. “And by the time I heal, I’ll be out of condition, too.”

“I don’t need you to kill all the enemy single-handedly,” Kessligh said wryly. “But I’d like someone there whose head I can trust.”

“It doesn’t work that way. I may have experience, and that may gain me
ra’shi
, but to be commander, I must also gain
ra’shi
for my views. It’s a long time since I’ve been active in such circles, in Tracato.”

“So start,” said Kessligh, an edge to his tone. “Lad, you love Sasha, I understand that. You feel estranged from your own people, I understand that too. But I think you’ve been too much the faithful puppy with Sasha, this past half-year. She’s been your excuse to escape your own people, to throw their narrowness back in their faces. But following Sasha too blindly can be bad for your health, as you’ve discovered.

“Understand I don’t say this out of some feeling of fatherly protectiveness—if Sasha were to have any man, I would rather he be you. But just occasionally, I think it would be good for her if you bossed
her
around for a change.”

“Serrin don’t boss.”

“So start. You’ve changed a lot in the time you’ve been with her, as she’s also changed. For the better, I think. Now it’s time to use what you’ve learned. Don’t keep running from your people, Errollyn. Confront them. Otherwise, all the path ahead shall be determined by Kiel and Rhillian, and while I trust Rhillian’s heart, I do not trust the influences upon it. She must have alternatives, Errollyn. Alternatives that work. I think you can provide that. If you try.”

He put a gentle hand on an unscarred part of Errollyn’s shoulder. Then he rose, with the aid of his staff.

“And don’t forget to stretch, however much it hurts,” he added. “Just swing your arms and shoulders through full extension. Don’t let the cuts heal too narrow or the scars will restrict you.”

He left, a tapping of cane along the stone path between garden beds. Errollyn sank lower into the water, and watched the dancing reflection of lamplight on the pool’s surface.

The day was too hot, Sasha thought. Or perhaps, the heat was her own. She could not tell any longer, as she dripped sweat beneath her broad-brimmed hat and squinted across the rolling fields to the nearest farmstead. They had been riding for days now. Three, she thought, although it was sometimes difficult to remember. There was only the next stretch of road, across country that would have been pretty were she in any condition to appreciate it, and the swaying backside of the horse in front.

Now the column stopped, and she sipped from a waterskin hung to her saddle. She’d been drinking too much water, and would soon have to pee. It was humiliating, as the only woman of the column, but there it was. Her condition was humiliating. She did not know where she was, nor which turn to take next, nor indeed that she was being taken in the direction she had asked. She only stayed ahorse and tried not to pass out, and hoped that the spirits would guide her to her people once more.

Ahead, Lord Elot was talking with a pair of outriders. Soldiers, Sasha saw, lightly armed and armoured. Men of the Rhodaani Steel but not of the main formations. These rode the trails nearer the border with Larosa and watched for infiltrators. Yesterday they had encountered the first such riders. This was the second time today. Surely the border drew closer.

The soldiers bid good day and came down the column, nodding to each man, and Sasha, in turn. Sasha tipped her hat so that it half hid her face, and neither soldier seemed to notice that she was a woman. She wore pants and jacket too large for her, with a man’s tailoring to hide her figure. So far, she thought, her disguise was good.

A time later, the column ascended a forested hill until it arrived at a castle’s walls. The drawbridge seemed permanently lowered, and the moat dry, overgrown with bracken. Maids and castlehands came running as they entered the grounds, and pulled up the horses before the stables. Sasha managed to dismount herself, yet her legs would have folded had not someone caught her under the armpits. She hurt so much, and her head now spun so she did not know one direction from another. She tried to walk, but that was futile. Someone picked her up and carried her like a helpless child, and she was too exhausted to even feel embarrassed.

Indoors then, within walls of cool stone, and up narrow stairs that echoed to men’s boots. A room, and then a bed, and she was laid down. Men departed, voices fading, and then women were undressing her. They had the treatments Aisha had given her before she’d left the Mahl’rhen. They were kept in Sasha’s saddlebags, and reapplied at each stop. She’d done this before. But first, she would have to survive a trip to the washroom, and a cold wash.

She awoke some time later in the room, lit now with a single lamp. Beyond the narrow window was darkness, wind in the trees, and insects chirping. Dear spirits, it was wilderness. The air had that smell to it of nearby forest, and the faint, musty scent of farm animals. Despite her pains, Sasha nearly smiled. So long she’d spent in cities, first in Petrodor, now in Tracato. Never again, she promised herself. And finally she did smile, for she knew the promise was a lie.

She heard laughter downstairs, and a snatch of song. A wafting scent of food cooking. Her stomach grumbled. She sighed, took a deep breath, and sat up slowly. Her arms and legs were quite a sight. The cane scars varied from short to long, with colours from pink to purple to deep, wine red. The deeper ones had scabbed over, and the whole mess pulled on her skin whenever she moved. Her stomach, sides and legs were purple and black with bruises. Her burns looked appalling. They scarred over now, with great blisters breaking the crust. Some blisters had burst, and now oozed. She hoped the skin would not heal badly, and restrict her svaalverd in the future.

On that thought, she got up, pressed her hands to a wall, and stretched her naked body upward until the scars began to scream in pain. She held it as long as she dared. Kessligh would tell her. She could hear his voice in her head, instructing her not to slacken off because of a few cuts and burns.

The only clothing in the chamber was a robe. Her fellow travellers, however, had not made the mistake of depriving her of her weapons. She tied the robe, took up her sheathed sword, and left the room. Her bare feet careful on cool stone steps, she descended into a common hall. Men and several women looked up from long tables, now stocked with steaming food. They hailed her, and gestured a seat on a bench. Sasha took it, alongside Lord Elot, and opposite young Torase, who had accompanied her and Errollyn on their rescue of Alythia and Lady Renine. Torase, Sasha had gathered, was Lord Elot’s nephew. Lord Elot, in turn, was cousin-by-marriage of Family Renine.

These family connections had once been all important in Rhodaan. Such ties had compelled men to fight and die. Blood had been the law here. Now, Sasha surveyed the bare stone of the hall, the fireless hearth, and the simple wooden tables and benches, and saw the extent of nobility’s fall. The banners and heralds on the walls seemed faded, and the cold, square stone was nothing like the grand, ornamental architecture of modern Tracato. These people were riding toward the past and would take all of Rhodaan with them if they could. Once, Sasha had considered that a terrible thing. Now, having seen what she’d seen, she wondered.

“Apologies for not waking you,” said Lord Elot, “but you seem to wake yourself when hungry, I’d thought to let you rest.”

Sasha managed a faint, acknowledging smile, putting meat and vegetables onto her plate. A maid came with wine, but Sasha took only water—Rhodaani wine was very good, and she did not think this bout of clearheadedness would last long if she indulged.

“What castle is this?” she asked quietly.

“This is the holding of Family Ciren,” said Lord Elot. “These forested hills were once farmed, with a clear view of surrounding lands. The serrin took them away, when they came. All the family lands. Gave them to the peasants. Now, all that remains is what you see.” He gestured about. “A simple place, yet it is home to some, and hospitable to all friends beneath its roof.”