Here were more bodies on the ground, and blood pooling on slate tiles. Further down hallways she heard shouting and fighting, as local staff were rounded up by yelling soldiers, sent scurrying down stairs like sheep mustered for market. Sasha kept striding, past older men in pompous robes and wigs now terrified and cowering, and serving staff pressed to a wall at swordpoint while roughly searched. The grand institution of Ilduur, the centre of power established by the serrin to replace the rapacious feudal families of old, was falling to the forces of its own creation.
She saw a grand doorway ahead and went through it, into a great amphitheatre of seats surrounding a table upon a stage. Here was the heart of the Remischtuul, where all the peoples of Ilduur would be represented. Now it was filled with soldiers, arresting more staff, beating those who resisted. A statue against one wall was toppled with a crash, to cheering from soldiers who apparently did not like the man it portrayed. Sasha felt like she'd slipped whilst climbing a steep hillside, and now skidded downhill with no control or direction. It was a giddy feeling, equal parts horror and glee.
Men saw her enter, and cheered and raised their swords to salute her. It was a roar of lust and power, of men who had corrected some longstanding indignity, of old wrongs righted. And it was the respect of men who had expected a hard fight against difficult numbers, and had instead received an easy one. Such men could come to believe that she could do anything. That she could lead them to such victories as had yet to be written in all the history of the Ilduuri Steel. She dared not break such a belief, for she needed it now, at Jahnd, where it could help to save the future of everything she cared about in all human lands. And yet…was this what it cost?
She strode down the amphitheatre between rowed seats, and leaped up onto the stage beside the table. Here the senior men would sit. Robed ushers held at swordpoint against a wall stared at her in horror, this pagan barbarian who stood upon the centre of their civilisation's power with a sword in her hand. From here she could see the mural on the ceiling, painted by a Tracatan artist's hand so that only the most powerful here on the stage could see it clearly—all the Verenthane gods amidst the clouds of heaven, pointing and kneeling and exclaiming in wonder at the holy light radiating from Aaldenmoot, the symbol of Ilduur and its people. The symbol of their freedom from feudal overlordship. The freedom of all people to live their lives as they saw fit.
About the chamber, conquering soldiers raised their swords at her and cheered anew. Sasha raised her sword in reply, and knew that she was now, as she had never been before, truly the barbarian warlord the Bacosh peoples had always feared her to be.
A second Steel contingent arrived from the east the following morning, and declared themselves in accordance. Messengers had been sent, bearing a bugle seal, a directive of general recall, ordering all of the Steel's arms to Andal. The furthest, Captain Idraalgen told her, would take seven days, including the time the message took to reach them. Sasha sat now upon the edge of a desk in chambers atop the Remischtuul's western wing, watching the fall of morning sun upon the far mountains and scowling as she considered remaining in Andal for another week.
“My people wish to evacuate Ilduuri serrin to Saalshen,” Rhillian told her, leaning against the window frame to consider the splendid view of lake and city below. “I think we can agree it is not safe for serrin in Andal today.”
“How many of your people will that take?” Sasha asked, chewing a thumbnail.
“Half,” Rhillian admitted.
“And they'll need protection,” Sasha added. “How many serrin to be evacuated?”
“In all Andal, we think there are nearly five thousand. And others who are their friends, whose lives may now be in danger. The populace is angry, and…”
“I can't allow it, Rhillian.” Sasha was almost surprised at the calm certainty in her voice. “You've four hundred talmaad now, I can't lose half of them. The Steel will need wagons for its own provisions and to move five thousand civilians you'll need most of the wagons in Andal.”
“I told them as much,” said Rhillian. “But I did not want to preempt your decision.”
“Will they listen to you?”
Rhillian looked at her for the first time. “My ra'shi holds,” she said. “Their motion and mine make a shadow from the light.” Sasha frowned. Rhillian had become somewhat more…vague, since Kiel's and Arendelle's deaths. As though she had retreated to ancient serrin philosophy for comfort. “Where then should serrin be kept? We have reports of angry mobs even today, roaming Andal searching for stray serrin. They seek revenge.”
“I know. I have Steel on patrol. Troublemakers are to be arrested, killed if necessary.”
“It will get worse,” Rhillian said calmly. “You rule them now. A foreigner.”
“I've invited city leaders to meet our Meraini prisoners,” Sasha said darkly. “They'll see what's happened, and know who is to blame.”
“Do you truly believe they'll care? Sasha, you fight for freedom, yet you will take it from them.”
“Are you on my side or not?” Sasha snapped.
Rhillian smiled faintly. “Always on your side, Sasha. Merely exercising the serrin prerogative to test a position in the hope of strengthening it.”
Sasha sighed. She didn't need to apologise. Rhillian knew. “I really am in charge now, aren't I?” she said glumly.
“A true Lenay warlord,” Rhillian confirmed. “All conquering and terrifying.”
The Remischtuul chambers were in uproar when she entered. City men sat or stood in unaccustomed places about the amphitheatre and shouted outrage at Captain Idraalgen, who remained senior of all Steel present. More soldiers stood about the walls and upon the stage, ready to make a wall of shields before her should any of the hundred or so Andalis present have smuggled a weapon past the searches.
Idraalgen stood aside for Sasha, who half-seated herself upon the grand table edge and waited for the shouting to die down. Men stared at her with some consternation. It looked odd, she supposed. The Steel, deferring to a woman. But she was used to that, and well past caring to try to put herself in their all-too-masculine boots.
“You've met the Meraini,” Sasha said to the chamber. “What say you?”
“You could have plucked them off the street!” one shouted.
“Unlikely, since you've been killing all the foreigners,” said Sasha.
“You got through!” that man retorted. “You and your serrin friends, you could have brought these Meraini actors with you!”
“I'm told many of you have close relations to Remischtuul chairs,” Sasha said coldly. “Your pockets, I'm sure, lately have weighed heavily with Meraini talons. You've also seen the boxes of those we recovered, doubtless from the same mint.”
“You hold this Remischtuul prisoner!” another yelled at her, changing the subject. “We demand all of this body's representatives be released at once! You will pay dearly for any harm that has come to them.”
“Well, I think we already killed a couple,” Sasha said sarcastically. “They were fighting with the Stamentaast outside, after the Stamentaast declared war on this city's serrin population and tried to kill them all.”
“The serrin attacked us!” came the reply. Sasha rolled her eyes. “You came with them yourself! They crossed our borders and attacked us, and now our own traitorous army takes their side against their own people! We Andalis were just defending ourselves, and…”
Sasha did not hear the rest. It was pointless arguing, she realised. These people would believe what they wished to believe. “Let me tell you how this is going to work,” she shouted over them, and silence descended. “You're going to go back into the city, and tell the residents to go about their daily lives, and do nothing else. The Steel will be assembling outside the city over the coming days, and once it has been assembled, it shall march to Jahnd, to defend this land from the very worst enemies of Ilduur that the previous Remischtuul somehow neglected to fight.”
There was much shouting and disag
reement at that. “You'll leave us defenceless!” one protested.
“I'm sure that's what this Remischtuul said before they dropped their pants and bent over for the Meraini, in the hope that would gain them some protection,” Sasha retorted.
“You cattle fuckers never bothered to join our ranks and defend this land in the first place!” Idraalgen snarled over the upset that followed. “Small right you have to complain where the Steel should or should not march to next!”
That degenerated into a shouting match in Ilduuri. The eastern regions, Sasha knew, were settling scores. They dominated the Steel, and not all of their grievances against the rest of Ilduur dated to merely within the last two centuries. Kessligh had taught her much about Lenay history that royal tutors in Baen-Tar would never have dared, about how her great-grandfather King Soros Lenayin had made a huge mess following his initial successes, because he had simply supposed that all the fractious parts of Lenayin would unite within the new reality he had imposed, and that the old arguments would disappear. He had been wrong, of course.
Ilduur was nothing like as complicated as her homeland, yet Sasha could see something similar emerging now. Assuming rulership of a foreign land was fraught with dangers, particularly in how many such old arguments she did not know, and was unable to stop from spilling out of control.
Aisha now came across the stage to translate for her, but Sasha held up her hand with a weary look.
“I've told you how it's going to be!” she shouted across the chamber. “You will either comply, or you won't. Be warned, I have no sympathy for people who murder serrin families in their homes, and have so little honour they cannot tell old enemies from old friends!”
“And where will you lead our Steel once you have finished in Jahnd!” came another shout amidst the noise. “Back to Lenayin, to install yourself as queen? You claim to fight for freedom here, yet you tyrannise the people of Andal, and if you win in Jahnd you'll be second in line to the Lenay throne!”
“Some liberator!” yelled another. “She's another fucking tyrant royal! We thought we disposed of all our royals two hundred years ago!”
“Tyrant!” screamed others. “Murderer!”
Sasha repressed a sigh, and was darkly amused that the irony did not seem to touch them. Ilduur had disposed of royals and feudalists because of the intervention of the serrin. Now they tried to dispose of those same serrin and all their wisdom, and protested against those who stopped them for imposing upon Ilduuri liberty—the liberty to murder serrin families. And not for reasons of religious fervour as the Regent's forces did, but in the vain hope of peace, and the cowardly desire for the world to pass them by.
Well, if taking away a people's liberty to behave like scum was tyrannical, then she was a tyrant. So be it.
“Many are saying that, about you becoming Queen of Lenayin,” said Aisha as they strode to Heroes' Square with Yasmyn. Yasmyn had been looking into the Remischtuul's books and accounts, another unexpected skill the former Great Lord of Isfayen had taught her. “They say that you and Koenyg are the natural leaders of King Torvaal's children, and that Damon will not measure up.”
“Torvaal is an Ilduuri name,” Sasha mused. Soldiers walked with them in rattling armour, her regular guard. “I'd never given it thought before. I know there was a man named Torvaal who fought with Great-grandpa Soros in the liberation of Lenayin, an Ilduuri who had sought fortune in Petrodor and volunteered for the Lenay crusade. Soros named him Chayden's godfather, who in turn named father after him.”
Aisha watched her as they walked, curiously. “Do you miss him?”
“I'd like to,” Sasha admitted. “But I can hardly miss someone I barely knew. I'm sad he's gone.” They emerged onto the grand steps overlooking Heroes' Square, now an encampment of tents, soldiers, and horses. Beyond, the city approaches were guarded. Growing ranks of soldiery drilled formations, hundreds of men moving and shouting in unison. Soon it would be thousands. “Certainly I feel today I understand him better than I did.”
“The burden of true power lends a curious perspective, yes?” Sasha nodded. They stood upon the top step, and contemplated the view for a moment. “Sasha? I know you love Damon, yet if he is not to become the leader that Lenayin needs…”
“He is,” said Sasha. “He just doesn't know it yet.”
“Sasha, you walked into Ilduur a nobody. Barely two weeks have passed, and you are Queen of Ilduur by default.” Sasha didn't like that word at all. “Very few in all Rhodia could have done it,” Aisha persisted. “I know you do not want to contemplate it, but I know Lenayin well enough to know that it needs a strong ruler, and of all the people I can think of who could fulfill that role…”
“Aisha, enough.”
Aisha sighed. Sasha went quickly down the steps, face grim, toward where Arken was waiting for her below, in full armour, some of his new command in tow.
“Visitors,” said Arken without preamble. “Awaiting on the square, demanding to see you. Nasi-Keth.” Sasha nodded. It was bound to happen. The one remaining fighting force left in Ilduur was not going to take the Steel's actions lying down.
“What of your Nasi-Keth officers?” Sasha asked. Arken was now a formation captain, replacing one such officer who had abandoned his post.
“Three gone,” said Arken. “One remains, and professes loyalty. Those three are now making trouble in the Tol'rhen, clear as day.”
“I'd rather they make trouble there than within the Steel,” said Sasha. “Let's go.” Sasha's personal guard led the way across the square, Arken's men behind, the new captain, Sasha, Aisha, and Yasmyn walking together.
“Aisha is right about Lenayin,” said Yasmyn. “Only a strong leader can unite the provinces. You are that leader.”
“Considering that we'll be outnumbered at Jahnd by the Regent nearly four-to-one even with the Ilduuri Steel,” Sasha said testily, “I think it's a little premature to start planning my rule over Lenayin.”
“A warrior either expects to win, or expects to lose. Should you expect to lose, why bother fighting?”
“Because running away makes one a coward,” Sasha retorted. “Besides which, a warrior expecting to win should not immediately pick fights with every man in town. Or else he will start losing, and fast.”
“Should you lead the town to victory in battle, all others would follow you and not fight you,” Yasmyn said stubbornly. “Should you win in Jahnd, all Lenays would follow you….”
“Enough, Yasmyn!” Sasha exclaimed, spinning on her and Aisha as they walked. “Both of you! If we win in Jahnd, Damon will be king, and he will make a good king!” She spun back as they kept walking. “I never thought I'd see you two agreeing on a matter of violence.”
“Violence?” asked Aisha. “No one is suggesting you should fight Damon for it.”
“Just how fucking naive are you, Aisha? What do you think happens when rivals fight for a throne? Have you paid any attention to the past few centuries of Bacosh history?”
“To win in Jahnd, you should have command there,” said Yasmyn, unperturbed. “To have unchallenged command, this should be settled first. Isfayen will back you.”
“I will fucking beat you with my fists if you don't shut up,” Sasha fumed.
“And I will repeat it nonetheless,” said Yasmyn. Sasha had no doubt that she would. Uncomprehending, Arken watched them with a frown.
“We debate a Lenay matter,” Sasha told him, in Saalsi. “Have no fear, we gang of Lenay speakers will not discuss Ilduuri matters in any tongue Ilduuri cannot understand. This is your land, not ours.”
Arken nodded, and said nothing.
One of the Nasi-Keth awaiting them by the edge of the square was dressed as an Ilduuri Steel captain. Soldiers surrounding him appeared tense and angry, a few with weapons drawn. This was one of the Nasi-Keth men the Remischtuul had promoted to command within the Steel at the expense of experienced and respected officers, Sasha realised. Now he stood defiantly, two companions at his side. Those two were
dressed as town men, though their garb was loose and flexible in the right places. Fighting clothes, for svaalverd fighters. At their backs, they wore serrin swords on the diagonal.
“Captain Rael,” the officer introduced himself.
“Not anymore,” said Arken. The two men glared at each other. Rael was nearly as tall and blond as Arken, with pale eyes.
“You have committed a grave crime against Ilduur,” Rael told Sasha, arms folded, standing to his full height. There was no sword in his sheath, soldiers having taken it from him. They stood at the base of a statue, with further guards observing the flanking buildings for archers in the windows, shields at the ready in case of a long-range bolt.
“I have done nothing to Ilduur save to show the Ilduuri Steel a path,” Sasha replied. “It was the Steel who chose to take it.”
Rael scoffed. “You idiot girl, can you not see you have been taken for a ride? This is a grab for power by the easterners. They wish to rule Ilduur themselves. I hear you are fighting the Regent in the name of freedom. Tell me—how much freedom shall there be for Ilduur when we majority Ilduuri have no representation in the Remischtuul, and one of these eastern friends of yours rules us like a king with an iron fist?”
“I don't care,” said Sasha. “The people of Ilduur are free, and in their freedom they chose evil. Freedom is not wisdom, nor is it kindness, nor honour. Ilduur freely chose to make war on Saalshen and its allies, and now it pays the price.”
“War?” Rael looked aghast. “What is this war that you speak of? We seek only to avoid fighting a war, as is our right!”
“You swore an oath to your brothers in Enora and Rhodaan that you would defend them against…”
“The Steel swore an oath!” Rael retorted. “An oath now centuries old, meaningless to most Ilduuris, nurtured by the Steel only to preserve their power and status over we majority Ilduuris…”
He might have said more. Sasha stopped listening and looked across the courtyard, at soldiers watching, at others guarding the roads and lanes, at the pointed roofs of buildings overlooking the square. At some point, Rael must have stopped speaking, because there was silence. Sasha looked back to him, and some of her utter contempt must have shown, for he paled, though with fear or anger she could not guess. Perhaps both.
Haven: A Trial of Blood and Steel Book Four Page 38
