“You didn't tell me,” she muttered.
“Sasha…”
“Damn it, I'd have understood! I'm not stupid, I knew that you and the others deflected some attention from me…but you were using me, weren't you? Planning a bloody uprising, just like Koenyg suspected…”
“Oh aye, and how safe would that have been, to tell you everything?” Teriyan retorted. “Your brother Koenyg sending his damn spies through the Steltsyn every few weeks…we learned to spot them, you know, even if you never did. Those merchants, traders, wandering minstrels, even some of the damn pilgrimage priests, all fishing for stories about you.”
“They weren't all working for Koenyg,” Sasha said disbelievingly. She felt suddenly uncomfortable. Could they have been? “Travellers gossip, it's not like every traveller who asks questions is pocketing Koenyg's gold.”
“And that's been the difference between the two of us for the last twelve years,” Teriyan said firmly. “You could afford to think that, up on your hill with your legendary warrior to watch over you. The rest of us learned to be suspicious. There's a whole stack of rumours and stories about you moving about the towns at any given time, Sasha. You don't think Koenyg wasn't listening to all of them? You don't think that at the first suspicion you were going to be a threat to the lords, by giving the Goeren-yai someone to rally around, he wouldn't have come down on Baerlyn like an avalanche?”
“He'd never have dared,” Sasha retorted, eyeing a shadowy figure moving on the dark road ahead. “Any move against me or Kessligh would have achieved exactly what he didn't want—angry mobs of Goeren-yai looking for blood.”
“Aye, well maybe you could take that risk. Me, I've got family in Baerlyn, and I'm responsible for all the other families too.” He too watched the dark figure ahead. It vanished down an alley. “The lords thought you more of a risk than Koenyg did, they were twisting his arm all the time…shit, you saw what Kumaryn tried. They know that if the Goeren-yai ever got worked up, the lords’ heads would be the first on the block—most Goeren-yai respect the king, but we've got no time for lords.
“So we kept feeding them all this nonsense about Krayliss, and how he was so popular. I did it myself a few times, just made up some pile of manure about the brave deeds of Lord Krayliss to tell some traveller when he was near facedown in his ale. He spreads it to the next town, and people talk, and the next thing you know, Prince Koenyg's hearing talk of great, heroic stories about Lord Krayliss spreading through Valhanan. Better yet, Lord Krayliss hears them too, and like any fool who thinks the stars circle his arse, he believes the people love him. Soon enough, he believes it so much he picks a fight with Hadryn, kills Great Lord Rashyd, and threatens the king with Goeren-yai rebellion. So while all the nobility's got their frilly lace knickers in a twist over Krayliss, they ignore you completely…or almost. Worked a treat, huh?”
Sasha stared at him incredulously. “They ignore me? You…you make it sound as if…as if I'm some kind of…I don't know…”
“Goeren-yai hero?” Teriyan peered down the dark alley into which the figure had entered. Within, there were only shadows. He shrugged. “Maybe. All I knew was better you than Krayliss. Some of us saw this day coming, Sasha. A day when we'd need someone the Goeren-yai could look up to. Prince Koenyg never really believed it could be you, not truly…Goeren-yai never had women leaders before, it seemed a stretch. And who knows, he might yet be right. We'll see.”
“I'm not a damn leader!” Sasha hissed at him. “I'm not some piece on your board game to be moved about at your leisure…”
“Kessligh didn't teach you nothing, did he?” Teriyan gave her a contemptuous stare. “We're all just pieces on some damn board game, girl. Either you play, or you get played. You choose. You're my friend, and I'm sorry you feel betrayed. But my first loyalty is to my people. I was hoping that'd be your first loyalty too.”
“M'Lady,” said another man moving up on her side as they rounded a tight bend between stone walls. From a high window, a baby squalled. “I have some men moving to recover the Udalyn children. The Princess Sofy assisted us in finding them in the palace. Should we bring them?”
Sasha looked up at him—way up, for this man was even taller than Teriyan. Goeren-yai, despite lacking the spirit-mask, like Teriyan. And recently familiar, somehow…her eyes widened, recalling the Royal Guard lieutenant who had let her into the Saint Ambellion Temple with Daryd.
“Is it a good idea to bring children?” she asked warily. “Surely they'll be safe enough here?”
“There's no telling that,” Teriyan said darkly. They were approaching the Soros Library now, its archways looming on the left above dark, clustered rooftops. “They're proof of bad things happening in the valley, someone might decide them more conveniently disposed of. Besides, we may have use of someone who knows Udalyn lands from the inside—the boy may not speak Lenay, but he can draw maps. In an assault, that could save lives.”
“They are Udalyn children, M'Lady,” the lieutenant added. “The hardship shall not trouble them.”
Sasha did not like the idea of taking children on such a ride. This, she realised, was one of those command decisions that she had always wondered if she would have the strength to make for herself. Many more would surely follow. She was no longer poised upon the point of no return. That point was now behind her. The realisation made her dizzy, with fear, excitement and a dozen other things that she had no name for.
“See to the children,” she told the lieutenant. “Perhaps try to find the pony they arrived on, it shall make the journey easier for them.”
“Aye, M'Lady,” said the lieutenant, and made straight for the side road past the library, vanishing quickly in the night.
“His name's Alyn, Koenyg tossed him from the guard,” Teriyan said in a low voice. “Koenyg's done that quite a bit lately. Gained us a whole bag of recruits, he has.”
Cut from the Royal Guard for letting someone into the temple to visit the king. The disgrace would lie heavily on the man's shoulders, Sasha knew, whatever the circumstances. A man so desperate to reclaim his honour might do crazy, reckless things. And she wondered how many more people would lose far more than just their honour because of decisions she would make now, or tomorrow, or in the days after that.
The stables were less active than on previous occasions, yet still busy enough for cover. “Be fast,” Teriyan said in a low voice to the group, “word will reach Koenyg soon enough, the executions will only distract him for so long.”
Sasha saddled fast and rejoined the group in front of the stables. As they approached the guards at the main gate, Soros Square became visible. Great fires lit the four corners about a large, raised platform, swarmed about by as large a mass of people Sasha could ever recall having seen. Light and shadow flung far and wide across the grand arches and towers of surrounding buildings, and the jagged lines of pikemen's ceremonial staffs made a sharp, teethlike row against the glare of flame.
About the crowd's perimeter there were many soldiers, and even more upon the platform itself. Before the platform, there was raised a large Verenthane star on a tall pole. It loomed over proceedings like a watchful guardian, invoking the name of its gods upon all that occurred within its shadow. The symbolism both chilled her and filled her with exasperated rage. Koenyg had no clue. Perhaps Lord Krayliss did deserve this fate, and perhaps the majority of Goeren-yai would not grieve for him. But to take his head beneath the shadow of a Verenthane star? One could not have conceived a greater provocation if one's intention was to start a rebellion.
“Identify yourselves!” called a guard from the gate, evidently a little bored with his job and far more interested in the spectacle upon the square. The crowd on the platform was clearing now and the drums increased their pace. Of the victims, Sasha's vantage did not provide a good view.
“I know them,” said another guard as the column arrived. “Let them through.” A Goeren-yai man, Sasha saw as Peg sensed her tension and danced sideways a little.
“Hells no!” demanded the first man with typical Lenay bluntness. “Identity of all present, then pass!”
“I said I know them!” countered the Goeren-yai as his comrade turned to stare at him in amazement. The protocols were well known.
“Are you completely bloody stupid, y'daft Valhanan goose?”
“My name's Blossom,” Teriyan said, all hard-faced aggression. “And so's my comrades’.”
“Aye,” said the next man, “mine too.”
“And mine.”
Horses jostled the guard, who stared around in amazement. Some of his comrades came over, heavily armed, yet not overly alarmed. There were at least twenty—Rayen men this night, of the Black Hammers company, not Falcon Guard, or it would have been just too damn easy. The first guard looked as though he suspected some kind of joke. All Lenay men loved jokes, particularly those that made another man look stupid.
“Oh aye, Blossom and Blossom…” he nodded up at them. “Suits you both, I must say. Would someone tell me what the bloody hells is going on?”
“Listen you,” Teriyan told him gruffly, “we got a Goeren-yai lord getting axed on the stage yonder, I suggest you don't give us any crap just now, understand?”
“Aye,” the guard said, suddenly all sober seriousness. “Aye, I hear you, friend. I don't like it much myself, but I've a job to do, don't I?”
“Aye,” Teriyan said bitterly. “Jolly Prince Koenyg did a fair job on us today too, didn't he? You take your damn job, and stick it up your arse. We're leaving.”
He slammed heels to his horse's sides, the other men following, then Sasha and Andreyis racing after as the guards swore, reached for weapons, yelled in protest…and yet did nothing to stop them. Then they were running at a canter along the paved road toward the Baen-Tar cliff, Sasha praying that there would be no whistle of arrowfire from the ramparts in pursuit as guards yelled that instruction up from the ground. None came and the group slowed as they approached the sharp drop-off and the view of hillside lights below.
It had been a masterful performance by Teriyan, Sasha realised as they descended. He had played the disgruntled, hot-headed Goeren-yai warrior to the hilt…and in truth, it had probably taken very little acting. Even a Verenthane guard had reason to agree that such a Goeren-yai hothead might be justifiably unhappy. In Lenayin, it was unwise to stand between a man who felt his honour slighted, and where he wished to go. Even more, such righteous furies were respected, as were the men who wielded them…so long as the cause was felt by all to be just. Teriyan had made the poor guards feel ashamed of their duty, inflicting yet another indignity upon a very angry, very righteous warrior. The incident would no doubt be reported immediately…but at least they were clear of the walls without a peppering of arrow shafts. Given events in the square, she guessed no one had had the heart to fire.
They arrived at the paddocks to a confusion of manoeuvres in the dark. A distance wide of the tents, horsemen were gathering amidst a dance of torchlight and far-flung shadow. Already there were several hundred and, even as Sasha arrived upslope of the gathering, many more were crossing from the tent city to join them. From amongst the tents, there carried the sound of shouting argument and the alarmed demands of officers. Some men went running and some horsemen went tearing off toward Baen-Tar, doubtless to inform Koenyg. There was little time.
“If we're going to move,” Sasha said, “we'd best move now before the Ranash and Banneryd mobilise.” Her heart was thumping with unpleasant anticipation as she surveyed this scene of armed men and horses by torchlight. In the confusion of shadows and light, it did not seem real.
“They'd not dare attack a force so strong, surely?” Andreyis ventured, staring wide-eyed and breathless at the scene. Sasha forced herself to calm—if she were alarmed, how would Andreyis feel?
“Not directly,” Teriyan said grimly, “and not so long as we have such greater numbers. But they'll harass us all the way to the Hadryn border.”
“Aye,” Sasha agreed. Another cluster of horses was cantering across, perhaps sixty strong. Behind them another formed, men waiting for their comrades to saddle up. Bewildered arguments raged, visible in the camp light. Evidently many Verenthane men hadn't known it was coming. Sasha was further astonished. She'd never suspected any Lenay soldier could keep so large a secret so well. “We'll wait a moment longer. We don't want to leave a trail of stragglers for the Ranash.”
“Sashandra Lenayin!” cried a restless voice from the midst of the assembled horsemen. “We were promised Sashandra Lenayin!”
A chorus of loud agreement rose from many others. “Is she present?” yelled another. “If not, we'll ride on Baen-Tar itself to free her!” Another rousing reply, filled with anger. More than five hundred horse stamped, jostled and snorted in the torchlight, feeding off their riders’ mood. Sasha sensed that things might finally be approaching a boil. They'd been patient for so long. They'd watched the Taneryn contingent slaughtered on the lower slopes, and yet done nothing. Now, they felt their time had arrived. The men of the ancient ways would not be denied.
Sasha found Teriyan glaring at her. “Go!” he urged, with a hard nod of his head. Sasha felt as if frozen, unable to move. Real fear gripped her, worse than the fear of bloodthirsty northerners or Cherrovan intent on spilling her blood. Those, she was trained to deal with. This turned her whole world upside down. It was one thing to threaten rebellion, quite another to actually, finally arrive at the moment of partaking.
Kessligh, she thought despairingly, her heart thudding hard against her ribs. He'd been right, once again. She truly hadn't understood where her casual passions might take her. A daughter of Lenayin, riding forth before a rebellious band of Goeren-yai and declaring intentions entirely at odds with her father's will.
Quite unexpectedly, a line from an old serrin verse came to mind. “That was the river. This is the sea.” She'd never seen the sea. The many rivers of Lenayin flowed into it, eventually, on their long, winding journey into the lowlands. A body of water so vast was unimaginable to her. And yet it existed, irrespective of her ignorance. Somewhere out there—vast, deep and blue.
Suddenly, she felt calmer. The destination was out there, whether she knew its nature or not. Surely it existed, just like the sea. It was only she who was uncertain. The destination would take care of itself.
She touched her heels to Peg's sides, urging him to a walk. He broke into a canter instead and she pulled on the reins, slowing her reluctant, impatient friend to a sideways, head-tossing prance. The men's shouts died away, eyes settling upon her, many with frowning curiosity, seeing her for the first time. Spirits knew what they'd expected from the tales spun about her. She pushed the hood from her head to at least offer that much proof. From behind, there came the thunder of yet more horses approaching, swelling their ranks further. Perhaps she should wait for them all to arrive…but then, she might never start.
“Men of Lenayin!” she called. Her voice did not sound right, and she wondered if it carried across all those gathered. And the words themselves were a stale, dull form of address, surely? Although it was certainly better than “fellow Goeren-yai”…and suddenly, new words formed in her head. “Some will say this is a rebellion!” she plowed on, before the inspiration could desert her. “Some will say that we ride against the king! They will say that we seek to set Lenayin at war with itself, and set Verenthane and Goeren-yai at each other's throats! But they will be wrong!
“We ride to save Lenayin from ruin! Lenayin must be saved from the hatred and bigotry of the north, or wherever it should arise! Lord Krayliss offered you a vision of a kingdom of the Goeren-yai, free from Verenthanes, serrin and lowlanders. I offer you no such vision! The Lenayin I offer you is a Lenayin of peace, not of hatred! Even now, there are Verenthane brothers among us who ride not for division, nor for hatred, but for all Lenayin, united together in friendship!
“I welcome my Verenthane brothers! I remind all who ride here that wherever my heart may lie, my blood is Verenthane
and I love my family yet! Should any man who ride here tonight do so for hatred, or should he consider all Verenthanes to be the enemy, then I would tell that man that he is not welcome in this party! If he wishes to ride tonight for love—for love of the Udalyn, for love of tolerance and friendship between all Lenays, and for the love of a united Lenayin beneath a single king, then I say come with me, and none of us shall suffer in silence any more! What do you say?”
The answering roar astonished her in its power. Men clenched their fists in the air, or thrust their swords skyward, shouting with visceral passion. Sasha felt a flush of power through her body, chills tingling both hot and cold, her heart pounding in her ears. As if suddenly, in that moment, she could have taken on the combined Hadryn armies single-handedly and won. She fought the urge to grin like an idiot. A girl could get used to this.
“Form up!” she heard a yell as the cheering died…and looked to find Captain Tyrun of the Falcon Guard coming across the line at a canter, raised in his stirrups. “Form up, share the torches. We've distance to cover before the sun rises!”
Sasha set off after him, heading downhill as mounted soldiers wheeled and yelled, finding comrades and superiors in the darkness. She, Tyrun, Andreyis and Teriyan positioned themselves at the fore, watching the confusion and hoping there were not too many injuries before they even began to move.
“Where's Jaryd?” she thought to ask Tyrun.
“I put a few good men with him,” Tyrun replied, surveying the scene with unreadable eyes. “To make sure he stays in the saddle, and to show the rest of the guardsmen that he's here. How do you judge his condition?”
“His body's a mess,” Sasha said shortly. “But that's not the worst of it.”
Sasha Page 39
