He'd given her one of his rare, wry yet genuinely amused smiles. "I never thought I'd see the day when you, of all people, would complain of someone else not playing by the rules," he'd told her, yanking her effortlessly to her feet. "That's why I teach you these rules. It's not so you can follow them religiously. It's so that one day, you'll learn when, and how, they can be broken."
"This land here," she asked Jurellyn, pointing to an area of road not far north of Ymoth toward the valley. "What is this like?"
"Some fields of ripe grain and some fallow." Jurellyn was looking at her intently, his eyes narrowed. Jurellyn had known Kessligh from the Great War. Perhaps he guessed at her thoughts. Some of the other men were breaking off their discussions to listen.
"Could we ride on them?" Sasha asked. "A large force, in a charge?"
Jurellyn nodded. "Not easily, the fallow ground is a little rough and the grain fields are near what should be harvest. There are fences nearly hidden. But yes, it's possible."
"M'Lady, no," Akryd said firmly, and with some alarm. "We've good defences here and it'll shortly be dark. That's maybe three thousand Hadryn heavy cavalry out there-they like the open ground, each of them is possibly twice the quality of our average cavalryman, they'd just love to meet us away from these walls where they can do what they do best. Absolutely no, we should stay put."
"We have no archers," Sasha replied, fixing him with a hard stare. She was not certain where this sudden burst of conviction had come from. But it was there, nonetheless. "A defence without archers is like a feast without ale-utterly pointless. The Hadryn will reach our defences in perfect order and shall do to us what they will. We shall lose all initiative and will become their playthings, free to toy with as they please until my dear brother arrives, whereupon we can all get down on our knees and beg him to save us from this siege."
"M'Lady…" Akryd began in exasperation, but Sasha cut him off.
"Furthermore, their infantry is strong and well-drilled, and they can mount an infantry assault through the wooded foothills, although slowly, as we could not do with cavalry. We would be forced to divert large numbers of soldiers away from our forward defences, leaving them pitifully thin, and we just saw what happens here when the flanks are stretched so badly." There were some thoughtful nods from some men at that. She could see them thinking, picturing. Others looked unconvinced. "An attack in the open is not what Usyn expects…"
"With good reason!" Akryd retorted, with no little sarcasm.
"… but he is all strung out upon the road and he has no formation." Sasha finished, determinedly. Some of the thoughtful looks had become intent. She had those with her, at least. "We'll spring the trap, and he won't have time to form up his flanks! What's more, he's an arrogant little snot, he believes in the tales of the Hadryn cavalry's invincibility just as much as some others do…" with a pointed stare at Akryd, who was now beginning to look angry, "and I'm convinced the Udalyn have not yet fallen or he would have been here already. Some of his forces will have remained behind to keep the Udalyn trapped behind their wall so that he can return to finish them later. I'm betting he won't even be at full strength. After all, we're just a pagan, or pagan-loving, rabble of limp-wristed southerners led by a girl. What threat could we possibly be?"
That got a grim laugh from some. "He'd not have needed to leave many behind," said one of those, "he's only guarding one gate in the Udalyn wall."
Sasha shrugged. "Aye. Maybe a few hundred horse and some archers, that would block one gate, given the Udalyn only have dussieh and aren't much renowned for cavalry anyway. The Udalyn might overwhelm them with a full-scale breakout, but I'll bet they've guessed what's happened, now they've seen Usyn turn tail and leave, and will wait for the result. They'll hope that Usyn will lose men in this fight, leaving him unable to breach the wall. Better yet, if we win and drive him back into the valley, he's stuck with a wall at his back and a huge mob of angry Udalyn behind it."
Some of the men were nodding now, openly. "It's what Kessligh would have done," Jurellyn opined. "Don't give them a break, keep it moving all the time."
"He could retreat east if beaten," another said doubtfully. "Rather than into the valley."
"That land's impossible," Jurellyn answered. "These ridges run down from the Nyfaal Range here that forms the valley's eastern ridge
…" he demonstrated with his sword, more lines in the dirt, "all the way out to here. To escape the valley with any kind of a force, one must follow the river. The key to the river is Ymoth, and we hold it."
"M'Lady," Akryd tried one last time, "we've no time to plan an ambush. Usyn is nearly upon us, and…"
Sasha jabbed at a spot upon the line that marked the riverbank. "Here," she said. "Jurellyn, this bank is wooded, yes?"
"Aye, M'Lady. Mostly broadleaf, nearest the river. Plenty of undergrowth, not good for riding warhorses, certainly not in numbers. But dussieh could ride there. I have. You could put… oh, hundreds there. Maybe a thousand. Wouldn't see them from the road."
"We'll do that," she said with certainty. "Every dussieh in the ranks. They'll cut the line in half, we'll smash them head-on. Agreed?" Looking about the group. Some voiced their assent, loudly. Others murmured it, reluctantly. Several remained silent. Akryd was one. "Agreed?" Sasha repeated, looking at him firmly.
"Aye," Akryd sighed, with the air of a man doomed to an unpleasant fate. "Aye, M'Lady. We will at that."
Twenty
Sasha sat astride her horse in the middle of the road that wound along the right bank of the Yumynis River. The sky was dull with early twilight, yet somewhere beyond the western mountains, there seemed to be a break in the clouds. Beyond Ymoth, peaks glowed yellow on their far sides, as if silhoutted with ligh. Low-angled rays fell upon the mouth of the Udalyn Valley ahead, and those craggy slopes seemed to glow.
To either side of the road lay vast fields of grain with pale green stalks and golden heads. They rippled in the light wind, moving swathes of colour in the glow from the further mountains. To her left, the Yumynis flowed wide and gentle, rugged forests encroaching upon its rocky left bank where the foothills came directly down to the river. Poplar and willow continued to line the banks and Sasha wondered if they had been planted long ago by human hand and maintained all this time.
Ahead, majestic upon the riverbank, was an exquisite pagoda of beautiful arches, apparently well maintained. Talleryn symbols climbed the supporting posts, a foreign, strange script whose shapes seemed to repeat through the form of the structure itself. This was a culture enlightened, yet almost lost. This, surely, was worth fighting for.
Behind her, across the fields of grain, stretched the forward rank of an army. Warhorses waited now more calmly than before, greatly tired from the day's exertions. Many nibbled at the grain as they waited. Soon, much of these unharvested fields would be destroyed. A necessary sacrifice, she hoped. To the rear, a new reserve was gathered, and once again Sofy was with them. Sasha had considered leaving her at Ymoth… but again, Ymoth was badly exposed to raids from Hadryn villagers to the east, its garrison held by fewer than a hundred men. Thankfully, Usyn's forces had brought with them plenty of chain and manacles, enough to bind most of the Banneryd who had surrendered. Two new men protected Sofy in the reserve. Where Jaryd was, no one knew.
Peg shifted tiredly beneath her and tossed his head, with somewhat less than his usual vigour. Those men tasked with caring for the horses had man aged to get him a drink, some feed, and a very basic wash to remove the dried froth and sweat, but nothing more. She leaned forward now and rubbed his neck.
"I'm sorry," she told him, to the backward, attentive twist of one ear. "I know you're tired. Just a little more. One more charge, Peglyrion, son of Hyathon the Warrior. Then you can rest."
There was a gentle rise in the fields ahead. Beyond it, she could hear the distant roll of many hooves, drawing slowly near. Usyn was marching fast, wishing to make camp before the walls of Ymoth prior to nightfall. Surely he'd had scouts eno
ugh to tell him that Ymoth had fallen. Jurellyn's latest report had said that his line was much wider than the road, and trampled much of the grain on either side… but still, not a combat-ready formation. Jurellyn's men had killed several Hadryn scouts just recently and it was unlikely Usyn knew of her latest move. In scouts, at least, Sasha knew that her column possessed a clear advantage, both in number and talent. Usyn sacrificed caution for haste and gambled that they wouldn't dare attack the Hadryn heavy horse on open ground. This had to work. Surely it would.
She felt strangely calm, unlike before the previous charge. Fatalistic, perhaps. Maybe that should have worried her-in all the great tales of doomed heroes in battle, all had accepted their fate before the end and faced it without fear. Sasha gazed at the mountains that flanked the valley mouth ahead, all alight in a golden glow, and felt that surely there was something here at work that was not of any merely human plane.
"Are you there?" she thought toward the valley. "The valley of the Udalyn is said to be the home of many great Lenay spirits. Where is my Synnich spirit hiding? They call me the Synnich, but I cannot hear you. Speak to me."
Riders moved up on her sides-her four surviving vanguard riders from the first charge, plus two new ones. Or no, she realised, looking around-four new ones. There riding up behind, were Errollyn, Terel, Tassi and Aisha. Errollyn stopped at her side. He too gazed at the golden valley beyond. His handsome face was serene.
"You don't need to come, you know," Sasha told him.
Errollyn smiled, and gave a faint shrug. "We chose to," he said simply. "We," Errollyn had said, with complete certainty. Sasha recalled the battle just past. The effortless coordination, the serrin guiding their horses in unison. Tassi distracting one Banneryd's attention, while Aisha killed him from the other side. "And we were appointed by the others. They saw we protected you in the last battle, and wished us to do the same in this one. We accepted the honour."
"Can you tell each other's thoughts?" Sasha asked, feeling suddenly curious. It seemed a good time to ask. Suddenly, she wished she had asked a great many more questions than she had. Of many people, and many things.
Errollyn spared her a curious, green-eyed glance. "A question of debate, amongst the serrinim," he conceded. "The vel'ennar is not what you suggest. And yet, in some ways, perhaps it is." The vel'ennar Another Saalsi term for which there was no direct translation into any human tongue Sasha was aware of. The "single spirit," perhaps. Or maybe the "great soul." Something singular, and yet divided. And so like the serrin, to take seemingly contradictory concepts and twine them together to make a whole.
Sasha snorted in amusement. "I bet I couldn't get a straight answer from a serrin on his deathbed."
Errollyn's smile spread wide. Stunningly. "The world is not simple," he said coyly. "To value the chaos is to value life."
"Difficult people," Sasha teased.
Errollyn shrugged. "We cannot help but be what we are, any more than humans can."
"I am glad of it," Sasha said softly. "The world would be a far poorer place without the serrinim. It has occurred to me very slowly, over the last few days, just what some of these people see in me. The Goeren-yai and the Verenthanes. Tyrun insisted that I was the only person to lead this column. Teriyan too, and others. At first I was angry. I thought surely they could find someone else. But I've thought about it, and I concede I can't think of anyone."
Errollyn's gaze was intensely curious. His stare held a force that only a serrin could wield. "Why do you think?" he asked.
"To be a leader of both the faiths is difficult, I suppose," said Sasha. "In this land, with our history. We are a divided land, if not by faith then by language and region. I think I understand better now why Kessligh had such faith in Lenay royalty, and in my father despite his flaws. Royalty is of no particular province, but of all Lenayin, and is, as such, a uniting force, not a dividing one. But then, royalty cannot unite everyone, especially when it is so strongly Verenthane, and does not treat the Goeren-yai fairly."
"But you are neither Verenthane nor Goeren-yai," Errollyn completed for her. He turned his gaze to the golden, sunlit mountains, as if drinking in their splendour. "Such was always the intention of the Nasi-Keth. To find a third way. That is you, Sashandra. I am certain Kessligh was aware of this. Perhaps it worried him. He always considered Petrodor and the Bacosh as the centre of all the world's troubles, the questions to which he wished to contribute. He went to Lenayin, in part, to find an uma untainted by Petrodor thinking and prejudices.
"But it seems he could not so easily separate the uma from her own world, and bring her into his. And that is the dilemma of us all, in the end. The dilemma of overlapping worlds. Each of our worlds is unique. Only where they come into contact with the worlds of others do they join, and find points of commonality."
Sasha frowned at him. "You know much about Kessligh," she observed.
Errollyn shrugged. "He is a son of the Petrodor docks. His once-neighbours still boast of the little boy who used to play in this yard, or practise swordwork in that alley. People talk of him often, and the latest news of his doings in the barbarian kingdom. They wonder as to his uma. She is reputed to be both wild and beautiful."
Sasha managed a faint smile. "Well," she said, with mock elegant decorum. "I suppose one out of two will do."
"No," Errollyn replied, also smiling, "you are beautiful too." Sasha scowled at him. Then smiled more broadly. How easy it was to talk to this serrin. Most serrin were nice, but many remained somewhat aloof, for all their charms. There was nothing aloof about Errollyn. For a serrin, he was blunt, direct and… "Did you dream of this valley?" he asked, before she could complete the thought.
Sasha blinked. "Dream? How can I dream of a place I've never visited?"
"A wide and open valley, with a river along the bottom. And a full moon in the sky, lighting all to silver." Sasha stared at him. He was
… he was describing her dream… the dream she'd nearly forgotten, that she'd dismissed each time she'd awoken with it fresh in her memory… Errollyn's bright green eyes burned into her like nothing human. "You asked of the vel'ennar," he said softly, as the rolling approach of hooves beyond the rise ahead grew louder. "I am du janah, a special uniqueness among serrin. The vel'ennar and I have a unique relationship. We serrin admire your Goeren-yai for a reason. In this land, we know where to come, and when. The spirits speak. Listen now. Your Synnich calls to you. You are almost home."
From hidden amongst the wheat further ahead, a signal came. Behind, the shouts of officers echoed across the formation. Swords came out. Sasha stared at Errollyn, small hairs prickling at the back of her neck.
Errollyn rested his bow upon his saddlehorn, and the swords of her vanguard and the other serrin also came out. "You are Goeren-yai, but you do not truly believe," he said. "Believe now. It is time."
From behind, there came a cheer, rippling slowly across the front rank. Sasha turned to look and saw Jaryd riding to their fore, both arms free and a sword in his right hand. He seemed to be steering his big chestnut mare with his heels and gentle tugs on the rein alone… but there was no way he could possibly handle the reins while wielding the sword. He'd come out here to die, Sasha realised. And she recalled what she'd said to him, standing by Tyrun's body, and regretted it.
But there was no time for regrets, she realised. By the end of this day, there would be more than enough regret to go around.
Sasha drew her sword. From behind, she could hear the blades coming out, a great, rasping ring. There was no need for a speech now. The battle had been underway since Ymoth. Now, they finished it. A man stood from the grain to the left and held an arm aloft. Sasha raised her blade and then dropped it. Peg snorted as she tapped her heels, and broke into a trot, then a canter. She held to the road, as behind, the great line of horses cut through the fields of grain, approaching the first fence.
They leaped it, and then the ridge ahead was fading and a huge, winding column of horseback warriors appeared,
perhaps eight abreast on either side of the road. Black Hadryn banners flew against the golden mountains from which they'd come. Horns sounded and yells from ahead, rear-ward ranks accelerating to spill across the fields from the road, moving up to broaden the lines.
Sasha thumped Peg hard with her heels and yanked him into the graina difficult ride for a dussieh, perhaps, but the heads of the grain barely came past Peg's knees, and all of the column behind her were warhorses. Peg hurtled across the flat ground, the serrin and her vanguard to her sides, as behind, a great wall of charging animals decimated the golden fields beneath their tearing hooves. Sasha held Peg's speed enough to allow the line to catch up, timing the impending collision with a practised eye.
There came another roar as a mass of dussieh erupted from the riverside forest ahead and charged into the Hadryn column. Many of those Hadryn galloping up to the front now turned at this new attack, the great mass wheeling like a flock of birds against the sky. The ambush had been sprung. Still the Hadryn front line did not charge, holding back as more riders poured onto their flanks, widening the line… but now, the charging rebel line began to split, riders following Sasha's path to envelop the Hadryn column about the sides.
At the last moment, the Hadryn charged with a yell, the rebel line now closing directly on Sasha's heels, and overtaking her to either side in places… An arrow whistled past Sasha's ear from behind and skewered a Hadryn's shoulder directly ahead. The impact spun him half-about in the saddle, hauling his horse sideways, colliding with the next horse in line, and making that one rear aside. Sasha raced straight for the gap… and saw in the corner of her vision something dark and lithe racing alongside. It materialised into Tassi, who leaned from her saddle with expert horsemanship to duck the other rider's blow whilst tearing him across the side with her blade.
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