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.
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 the
y 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. Someon
e 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.
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