Published2009byPyr®,animprintofPrometheusBooks

Sasha:ATrialofBloodandSteel.Copyright©2009byJoelShepherd.Mapscopyright©Kinart.Allrightsreserved.Nopartofthispublicationmaybereproduced,storedinaretrievalsystem,ortransmittedinanyformorbyanymeans,digital,electronic,mechanical,photocopying,recording,orotherwise,orconveyedviatheInternetoraWebsitewithoutpriorwrittenpermissionofthepublisher,exceptinthecaseofbriefquotationsembodiedincriticalarticlesandreviews.Coverillustration©DavidPalumboInquiriesshouldbeaddressedto

Pyr59JohnGlennDrive

Amherst,NewYork14228–2119VOICE:716–691–0133,ext.210

FAX:716–691–0137WWW.PYRSF.COM

131211100954321LibraryofCongressCataloging-in-

PublicationData

Shepherd,Joel.Sasha:atrialofbloodandsteel/JoelShepherd.p.cm.ISBN978–1–59102–787–4(paperback)ISBN978–1–61592–632–9(e-book)Originallypublished:Australiaand

NewZealand:HachetteLivreAustraliaPtyLtd.,2007.

PrintedintheUnitedStatesonacid-freepaper

Lenayin

Valhanan

Sasha…………………….formerPrincessofLenayinKessligh Cronenverdt……warrior, former CommanderofArmiesPeg………………………Sasha'shorseTerjellyn………………….Kessligh'shorseTeriyan……………………leatherworkerLynette……………………Teriyan'sdaughterJaegar……………………

headmanofBaerlyntownAndreyis…………………Sasha'sfriendLord Kumaryn Tathys……GreatLordofValhananTarynt……………………councilmanofYulevillage

Tyree

Jaryd Nyvar………………heir to Great Lordship ofTyreeLord Aystin Nyvar……….

Jaryd's father, Great Lord ofTyreeCaptain Tyrun………….Commander of Tyree'sFalconGuardLieutenant Reynan Pelyn…..FalconGuardsmanLord Tymeth Pelyn………TyreenobleSergeant Garys………….FalconGuardsmanTarryn……………….Jaryd'syoungerbrotherWyndal………………Jaryd's

brotherLord Redyk……………TyreenobleLord Paramys………….TyreenobleLord Arastyn…………..TyreenobleGalyndry……………..Jaryd'ssisterPyter Pelyn…………….nephewofLordPelynRhyst Angyvar………….Tyreenobleyouth

Baen-Tar

Damon……………….PrinceofLenayinTorvaal Lenayin…………KingofLenayinKrystoff……………….PrinceofLenayin,deceasedKoenyg……………….PrinceofLenayin,heirtothethroneWylfred……………….PrinceofLenayinWyna Telgar……………

Koenyg'swifeSofy………………….PrincessofLenayinMarya…………………Princess of Lenayin, marriedinTorovanPetryna……………….PrincessofLenayin,marriedAlythia……………….PrincessofLenayinMyklas……………….PrinceofLenayinQueen Shenai…………..QueenofLenayin,deceased

Anyse…………………Sofy'smaidArchbishop Dalryn………..Lenayarchbishop

Hadryn

Lord Rashyd Telgar……….Great Lord of Hadryn,deceasedLord Usyn Telgar………….Rashyd Telgar's son, GreatLordofHadrynFarys Varan……………..

HadrynnobleLord Udys Varan………….HadrynnobleHeryd Ansyn…………….HadrynnobleMartyn Ansyn……………Hadrynnoble

Taneryn

Lord Krayliss……………GreatLordofTanerynCaptain Akryd……………Tanerynsoldier

Udalyn

Daryd Yuvenar……………UdalynboyRysha………………….Daryd'syoungersisterEssey…………………..UdalynhorseChief Askar………………Udalynchief

Banneryd

Captain Tyrblanc…………..

Banneryd Black StormcaptainLord Cyan………………..GreatLordofBannerydCorporal Veln……………..BlackStormsoldier

Isfayen

Lord Faras………………..GreatLordofIsfayen

Neysh

Lord Aynsfar………………Neyshnoble,deceasedLord Parabys………………GreatLordofNeysh

Ranash

Lord Rydysh……………….GreatLordofRanash

Bacosh

Duke Stefhan……………….LarosandukeMaster Piet…………………Larosanbard

Saalshen

Rhillian…………………..serrinleaderinPetrodorAisha…………………….

femaleserrinErrollyn…………………..maleserrin,archerTerel……………………..maleserrinTassi……………………..femaleserrin

Others

Jurellyn…………………..

seniorLenayscoutAiden………………….Nasi-Keth from Petrodor,Kessligh'sfriend

HistoricalFigures

Hyathon theWarrior………….. Goeren-yaimythicalheroMarkield…………………..

CherrovanwarlordLeyvaan ofRhodaan…………. LeyvaantheFool,KingofBacoshTharynAskar………………..greatUdalynchieftainEssyn Telgar………………..HadrynchiefSorosLenayin……………….former king, head ofLiberationarmyofoldChaydenLenayin……………. formerking,Soros'sson

Tullamayne…………………Goeren-yaistoryteller

SASHA CIRCLED, a light shiftand slide of soft boots oncompactedearth.Thepointofher wooden stanch markedthecircle'scentre,effortlesslyextended from her two-fistedgrip. Opposite, Teriyan theleather worker matched hermotion, stanch likewise

unwavering, bare armsknotted with hard muscle.Sasha's eyes beheld his formwithout true focus. Shewatched his centre, not theface, nor the feet, norespecially the woodentraining blade in his strong,callousedhands.An intricate tattoo of

flowing black lines rippledupon Teriyan's bicep as hisarm flexed. Thick red hairstirred in a gust of wind,

tangledwhereitfelllongandpartlybraideddownhisback.High above, an eagle called,launched to flight from therow of pines on the northernridgeoverlookingtheBaerlynvalley of central Valhananprovince. The westerly sunwas fading above the ridge,settling among the pines,casting long, loomingshadows. The valley's entirelengthwas alivewith goldenlight,gleamingoff thewood-

shingled roofs of the housesthat lined the central road,and brightening the greenpastures to either side.Nearby,severalyounghorsesfrolicked, an exuberance ofhooves and gleaming manesand tails. From a nearbycircle,therecameaneruptionof yells above the repeatedclashofwoodenblades.Thena striking thud, and a pauseforbreath.Of all of this, Sasha was

aware. And when Teriyan'slunging attack came, shedeflected and countered withtwofast,slashingstrokes,andsmacked her old friend hardacrossthebelly.Teriyan cursed, good-

naturedly, and readjusted theprotective banda that lacedfirmly about his torso.“What'dIdo?”heasked,withthe air of a man long sinceresignedtohisfate.Sasha shrugged, backing

away with a light, balancedpoise. “You attacked,” shesaidsimply.“Girl's gettin’ cute,”

Geldonremarkedfromamidstthecircleofonlookers.Sashaflashed Geldon a grin,twirling her stanch through aseriesofrapidcircles,movinglittlemorethanherwrists.“Always been cute, baker-

man,” she said playfully.Guffaws from the crowd,numberingperhapstwentyon

this late afternoon session.Strongmen all, with braidedhair and calloused hands.Many ears bore the rings ofGoeren-yai manhood, andmany faces the dark inkpatterns of thewakening andthe spirit world. Lenaywarriors all, as fierce andproud as all the lowlandstales, a sight to strike terrorinto the hearts of any whohad cause to fear. And yettheystood,andwatchedwith

great curiosity, as a lithe,cocky, short-haired girl inweave pants and a sheepskinjacket dismantled theformidableswordworkofoneof their best,with littlemoreto show for the effort thansweat.Teriyan exhaled hard, and

repeated his previous move,frowning with consideration.“Bugger it,” he said finally.“That's as good an openingstroke as anyone's got. If

someone has a bettersuggestion,I'mallears.”“Improve,”Tyalremarked.“Kessligh says the low

forehand is a more effectiveopener than the high,” Sashainterrupted as Teriyan gaveTyal a warning stare. “For amanyoursize,anyhow.”“Ah,” Teriyan made a

mock dismissive gesture,“thatKessligh,whatwouldheknow about honestswordwork?Youandhimcan

stick to your sneakysvaalverd. Leave the realfightingtous,girlie.”“Look, do you want to

know how I do it, or not?”Sasha asked in exasperation.There weren't many men inLenayinwhowoulddarecallher“girlie.”Teriyanwasone.Kessligh Cronenverdt, thegreatest swordsman inLenayin and her tutor in farmorethanjustswordworkforthe past twelve years, was

another.Teriyan just looked at her,

a reluctant smile creepingacrossaruggedface.A bell clanged from the

centre of town, midway upthe valley. Stanches lowered,and all commotion about thetraining yard ceased as menturned to look, and listen.Again the bell, echoing offthe steep valley sides, andthenagain, as someonegot agood rhythm on the pulley

rope.“Rack your weapons!”

yelledByorn,thetraininghallproprietor, above the suddencommotionasmenran,bootsthundering up the steps fromthe outside yard to the open,broadfloorboardsoftheinnerhall. “No haste in this hall,respectthecircles!”Despite thehaste,mendid

keeptothedirtpathsbetweentachadarcircles,carefulnottodisturb the carefully laid

stones,northesanctityofthespace within. Sasha movedwith less haste than some,seeinglittlepointinelbowingthrough the crush of youngmen taking the lead. Shewalked instead with Teriyanand Geldon, up the dividingsteps and into the high-ceilinged interior, unlacingherbanda,andtakingtimetoselect her realweapons fromthewooden rackwhere she'dhung them earlier. With

weapons, Kessligh hadinstructed her often, oneneverrushed.Most men did not own

horses and began running upthe trail toward the mainroad.SashafetchedPegfromhis field beside the traininghall, used a stone paddockwall to mount, and gallopedhim in their wake…butbeforeshecouldgoracingtothe lead, she spotted afamiliarbaymarecomingup

theroadtothetraininghall,aslim,red-hairedgirluponherback,waving one-handed forSasha'sattention.Sasha brought Peg to a

halt, and waited. Lynettearrived with a thunder ofswirlingdust and flyinghair,eyes wide within a freckled,pale face. She was pantingandthemare—Chersey—wassweating profusely. Maybeenough for a seven-fold rideatspeed,Sashareckonedwith

a measuring eye, knowingChersey's abilities every bitaswellasPeg's.“Sasha,” Lynette gasped,

“it'sDamon.Damon'shere.”Sasha frowned. “Damon

came to Baerlyn? Withwhat?”“Ithi…thinkit'stheFalcon

Guard.”Shebrushedaraggedhandful of curling red hairfrom her face as a gust ofvalley wind caught it. Herlong dress was pulled well

above her knees, with mostunladylikedecorum,exposingapairofcoarseweaveridingpants beneath. And leatherbootsinthestirrups.“I'mnotsure…I was taking CherseyforarideoutpastSpearman'sRidge when I saw themcoming, so I turned aroundand came back as fast as Icould…Theyhad thebannersout,Sasha,itwasfullarmourandfullcolours!Theylookedmagnificent!”

Sasha'sfrowngrewdeeper.The Falcon Guard had beenlately posted in Baen-Tar.“You didn't speak to them?You don't know why they'rehere?”Lynette shook her head.

“No,Icamestraightbackandtold Jaegar, and he sentsomeonetoringthebell,andthen I came looking foryou…”“Damn it. Lynie, I want

youtogoandgetKessligh—

he went to buy somechickens.”“He'llhearthebellringing,

surely?” Lynette asked inconfusion, as more menmounted nearby, and wentgallopinguptheroad.“Kessligh takes his

chickens very seriously,”Sasha said wryly. “Just tryandhurryhimalongabit.”“I'll try,” said Lynette

doubtfully. Sasha kickedPegwith her heels, and went

racinguptheroadasLynettepulled Chersey about in acircle and followed as bestshecould.Ashortwayalong,Sasha came across Teriyan,Geldon and several others,runningatasteadypace.ShepulledPegtoatrotalongsideandextendedaninvitinghandtoTeriyan.“Come on,” she said,

“council heads should gettherefirst.”“Leave it, girl,” Teriyan

answered without breakingstride. “I still got someprideleft, you know.” Sashascowled.Lynettewent racingpast on Chersey. “Hey,where'dyousendmygirloffto?”“Ask her yourself, if you

ever catch her,” Sashasnorted, and galloped oncemoreuptheroad.The road wove between

paddockfencesandlowstonewalls, catching the full face

of the sun before it vanishedbehindtheridge.She was gaining fast on

twomenaheadasshereachedthemainBaerlyn road.Uponthe wooden verandahsflanking the road, Baerlynfolk had gathered—motherswith their children, elderlyfolkinlightcloaksorknittedshawls, and the men nowwalkingor runningalong theroad's broad edge, keepingthe middle clear for horses.

Peglovedatarget,andpassedthe leading horses in athunderofhooves.The road wound past

Geldon'sbakery,thenpastthetradinghousesandsidealleysleading to warehouses, andthe workshops of jewellers,potters, furniture makers andTeriyan'sownleathershop.Up ahead she saw a

gathering of horses anddismounted men in armourblocking the road, milling

beforethestonefacadeoftheSteltsyn Star, Baerlyn's onlyinn. Heraldsmen heldbanners, gusting now in thelight valley wind, indicatingthat Damon was still in thevicinity.Sasha pulled up beside

severalmenfromthetraininghall and surveyed the scene.Thereappearedtobeaneffortunderway to lead theregiment's horses down theStar'ssidelane,tothestables

and paddocks that stretchedto the southeastern valleywallattherear.Hersearchingeyes found Jaegar, Baerlyn'sheadman, upon the Star'sverandah gesticulating inearnest discussion, thenwaving a thick, tattooed armacross the semiorganisedmass of waiting men andhorses.HespokewithDamon—tall, darkly handsome andnotable by his purple andgreen riding cloak, the gold

clasp at his neck, and thegleaming silver pommel ofhis sword at one hip. Nowtwenty-threesummers,byherreckoning, and seeming tiredanddishevelledfromhisride.All themenhelda respectfuldistance, except the Falconguard captain and a youngmaninlordlyclothes,eagerlysurveying the conversation,whom Sasha did notrecognise.Then the guard captain

turned upon the step andshouted above the snort andstampofhooves,thejangleofarmour and the busydiscussionsofmen, “Inunitsdown the lane! The stablesarealreadyhalffull,fillthemasyoucan, then fill thebarn—it should take another ten!The rest, there's three moreproperties behind the inntoward the valley side, thereshould be enough room inthose barns, if not, move

down and knock on the nextdoor.Be polite, Iwant not ahay bale disturbed withoutpermission, nor a chicken'sfeather plucked, nor a sow'stail pulled. I'll not have thegoodfolkofValhanansayingthe FalconGuardmake poorguests!Tend toyourmounts,then gather back here for agood hot meal on the king'sowncoin!”That got a rousing cheer

fromallpresent.

“Men of Baerlyn!”bellowed Jaegar, with abarrel-chested volume thatsurpassed even the captain.He was a stocky man ofmiddling height but withmassively broad shoulders.Theanglinglightappearedtocatch only one side of hisface, leaving theotherdarklyominous…except that thedarker side was facing thelight.Uponcloser inspection,thespirit-maskofGoeren-yai

manhood revealed its finerintricacies of weaving curls,waves and flourishes.Sunlightglintedon themanyringsinhisears,anduponthesilver chain about his broad,sculpted neck. His long hair,parted cleanly down themiddle, bound down thecentreofhisbackinasingle,leather-tiedbraid.“Those with space

available indoors,please findasergeantorcorporalandsay

so!” Jaegar continued.“There's no need for anymorethanthehorsetenderstospend a night in the cold!Illys, we'd welcome somemusic inside tonight!” TherewasacheerfromtheBaerlyntownfolk who had encircledthe Falcon Guard, in allcuriosity and eagerness tohelp.“And Upwyld with the

ale!” yelled someone fromthe periphery. “Don't forget

the ale!” And that got anenormous cheer fromeveryone, soldiers and localsalike.Jaegar held both calloused

handsskyward toquieten theracket,andthenbellowed,“Itis the honour of Baerlyn toreceive this most welcomevisitation! Three cheers fortheFalconGuard!”“Hoorah!” yelled the

Baerlyners. “Hoorah!Hoorah!”

“Three cheers for MasterJaryd!” with an indication tothe young man beside themon the verandah. Again thecheers. The young man heldup a hand with a cheerfulgrin. Something about theglamorous cut of his clothes,and the self-assured smileonhis lips, made Sasha's breathcatch in her throat. TheFalcon Guard were all fromneighbouring Tyree provinceof central Lenayin. He must

be one of Great LordAystinNyvar of Tyree's sons. NotJaryd Nyvar? Surely thespirits would not be so crueltoher?“AndthreecheersforPrince Damon!” And thosethree cheers, to Sasha's mildsurprise, were loudest of all.Damon, she noted, glanceddown at his riding boots andlooked uncomfortable. Sherepressed an exasperatedsmile.SameoldDamon.“Three cheers for

Baerlyn!” yelled the captain,and the soldiers answeredbackinkind.“Let'smove!”With little more fuss, the

soldiers began filing downthe Star's cobbled side lane.Sasha finally completed herroughheadcount, andarrivedat perhaps eighty men andhorses, their numbersclusteringagoodwayup theroad past the inn. Thestrength of standingcompanies varied from

province to province—in thenorth, the great armouredcavalry companies numberedcloser to a thousand each.The Falcon Guard company,byherreckoning,shouldhaveabout five hundred at fullstrength. Perhaps thiscontingenthadleft inahurryand the others werefollowing.SheleftPeginthecareofa

farmersheknewwell.Damonand theyoungTyree lordling

stood in continuedconversation with Jaegar,now joined by another twoBaerlyn councilmen,similarly tattooed and ringedas Jaegar. Sasha eyed thatcontrast as she approachedunseen, slipping betweensoldier-led horses—theBaerlynmenroughandhardyGoeren-yai warriors. AndDamon tall, clipped andelegantly attired, aVerenthane medallion—the

eight-pointed star—prominently suspended on achainabouthisneck.Rural Goeren-yai and city

Verenthanes. The oldLenayin, and the new. TheGoeren-yai believed in theancient spiritsofLenayhills,theVerenthaneintheforeign,lowlands gods. Sasha wasborn Verenthane, but livedamongst Goeren-yai…andwas raised by Kessligh asNasi-Keth, the followers of

the teachings of far-offSaalshen. She sometimeswondered if she'd donesomething to offend somegods or spirits in a previouslife to have deserved such acomplicated fate. She oftenthought things would be somuchsimplerifshecouldjustchoose one or the other…orthethird.Butnomatterwhichshe chose, her choice wouldoffend countless powerfulpeople.

Sasha thrust the doubtsaside, cleared the gatheringabout the steps, and trottedbrisklyup.Damonsawheratthe last moment andstraightened stiffly. Nearbycommotion abruptly slowed,and conversation paused, aspeopleturnedtolook.“Damon,” said Sasha,

managing a half-genuinesmileasJaegarquicklymadewayforheratopthesteps.“Sashandra,” Damon

replied, similarly ill-at-ease.And then, with meaningfulemphasis, “Sister.” Andspread his arms to embraceher. Sasha returned the hug,the first time she hadembraced her brother innearly a year, by herimmediate reckoning. Fromabouttheverandah,anduponthe road, there was applauseand some cheering. BeneathDamon'sridingclothes,Sashafelt the hard weight of

chainmail, which wassometimesdecorative customfor a travelling prince, andsometimes not. This, sheguessed from the size of thecompany, was not. Theyreleased each other, andDamonputbothglovedhandsupon her shoulders andlookedather.“You're looking well,” he

remarked.Liar, Sasha thought. Little

thoughshe'dseenhimoflate,

she knew well his trueopinion of her appearancethese days. In Baen-Tar, theseat of Lenay kings, theladies all wore dresses, andhairsolongyoucouldtriponit. Some of her wryamusementmusthave shownonherface,forDamonbarelyrepressedasmileofhisown.“You too,” Sasha replied,

and meant it. “What bringsyoutomyhumbletown?”“Well,” said the young

prince with a hard sigh.“Thereinliesthetale.”

“We're still not clear exactlywhathappened,”Damonsaidto the table, his voice raisedto carry above the mealtimeclamour. Changed into aclean shirt beneath apatterned leather vest,covered again by the ridingcloak in regal purple and

green, he looked to Sasha'seyes far more comfortablenow than in the armour. Hisfingers toyed absently withthe wine cup. “We onlyreceived word that GreatLord Rashyd Telgar is dead,and that Great Lord Kraylissisresponsible.”Sashastaredsullenlyatthe

open fire upon the centre ofthe Star'smain floor. Flamesblazed within the stone-linedpit as several kitchen hands

hurried about and rotated thethree sizzling spits. Menclustered at long tablesbetween ceiling supports asBaerlyn youngsters served aswaiters, hurrying back andforth with laden plates andmugsofale.Voices roared in

conversation, and heatradiated from the fire, asmusic and the smell of goodfood filled the confined airbeneaththeStar'slowceiling.

“You're sure it wasKrayliss thatkilledRashyd?”Jaegar pressed from his seatalongside Captain Tyrun,commander of the FalconGuard.TyrunandSashaweresitting on either side ofDamon at the head of thetable. On Sasha's left satTeriyan, widely regarded asJaegar's right-hand man inBaerlyn, due mostly to hisswordsmanship and exploitsin battle. The young Master

Jaryd completed the group,ignoring the breathless staresthat the servinggirls senthisway.Attheendofthetable,achair forKessligh sat empty.If Damon were offended athisabsence,hedidn'tshowit.Probably he knew thatKessligh was Kessligh, anddidashepleased.“I'mnotsureofanything,”

Damon replied to Jaegar,somewhat testily, butrecovered from his outburst

no sooner than it had begun.Same old Damon indeed,Sasha noted sourly. Damontook a breath. “I only knowwhat word reached us inBaen-Tar. The messengersaid his lord was dead andthat revenge must follow.AgainstKrayliss.”Damontookanotherbiteof

hisroast, thencleaneduptheremains of his vegetable raalwith a piece of bread. Thetable exchanged sombre

glances, an oasis of silenceamongst the raucous din.Sashamet no one's gaze andsimply stared at the centralfire. Lord Rashyd was dead,and Hadryn province, thegreatest of Lenayin's threenorthern provinces, was nowwithout its leader. And nowtheFalconGuardwereridingfrom Baen-Tar to takerevenge on Lord Krayliss ofneighbouring Tanerynprovince. It seemed that the

age-old conflict betweenHadryn and Taneryn hadflaredoncemore,withalltheancient, treacherous historythat entailed. Sasha did nottrust herself to speak, lestsome slip of caution unleashtheseethinginhergut.Lenayin had ten provinces

—eleven, if one counted thecity lands of royalBaen-Tar.A century earlier theLiberation had permanentlyestablished long-disputed

bordersandcreatedaclassofnobility to ruleover them. Inalloftheprovincessaveone,thenobilitywereVerenthane.Theoneexception,ofcourse,was Taneryn. Lord KraylisswastheonlyGoeren-yaigreatlord in Lenayin. No surprisethenthattheHadryn–Tanerynborder remained the mosttroubled in Lenayin. To allthemanycausesforcountlesscenturies ofwar between theHadryn and Taneryn, the

Liberation had addedreligion.Asgrandas theLiberation

had been, not all the Lenaypeoples had shared in itsbenefits. For the Udalynpeoples, the Liberation hadprovenadisaster.Today,theylived trapped in their valleywithin the boundaries ofHadryn, holding fiercely tothe old ways, despite theHadryn's attempts to convertthem or kill them. The

Taneryn considered themheroes.TheHadryn,heretics.It remainedperhaps themostemotive of unresolvedconflicts in Lenayin. ForGoeren-yai across Lenayin,the Udalyn representedantiquity, the old ways frombefore the Liberation, toostrong to die, too proud togive up the fight. If theUdalyn were somehowinvolved in this latestcalamity, Sasha reckoned,

then matters could becomeverygrimindeed.“Rashyd's men were on

manoeuvre, we heard,” saidCaptain Tyrun, downing hismouthfulwithagulpofwine.Tyrun had a lean, angularface, like the falcon fromwhichhisunit took itsname.His nose was large, hismoustache broad anddrooping. Less well clipped,Sasha noted with reluctantcuriosity, than most

Verenthaneofficers,althoughhis face bore no sign of theinkquill,norhisearsofringsor other, pagan decoration.Most likely he was noGoeren-yai, although if heworeaVerenthanemedallion,it lay hidden beneath histunic.“ItseemshewaskilledwithinTanerynborders.Whathewasdoingthere,ifhewasthere,wedon'tknow.”“Making nuisance, most

likely,” Teriyan remarked

aroundamouthful.“Hadryn'sclaimed the western parts ofTaneryn for centuries, damnRashyd's been angling for awarsincehisfatherdied.”“Words were exchanged,”

Tyruncontinued,ignoringthedark look that Damon fixedon Teriyan. “A fight ensuedbetween Rashyd's men andKrayliss's. Some were killedon both sides. And Kraylisskilled Rashyd personally,with clear intent. So the

messengersaid.”“Hemightnothaveseenit

all,”Jaegarcautioned.Ormight be lying through

histeethtoprotectthehonourof his ass of a lord, Sashathought to herself. Still, sheforced herself to remainsilent. It would not befitanyone to be speaking ill ofLordRashydsosoonafterhisdeath.The calamity was beyond

her immediate

comprehension. No one inthesepartslikedLordRashydTelgar, with his arrogant,northern ways and strictVerenthane codes. But forKrayliss to kill him…Therewere some who'd said thatLordRashydsatat theking'srighthand.Andotherswho'dsaid that the king, at LordRashyd's…Tyrun heard Jaegar's

caution and shrugged. “Asyou say,” he said. “We have

yet to discover whathappened. But Krayliss hastaxed theking's tolerance fora long time now, and therecomes a timewhen even ourtolerantkingmustputhisfootdown.Inthis,wearetheheelofhisboot.”“Our king,” said Master

Jaryd, somewhat tersely, “isvastly long on tolerance. Heis a merciful man, a man ofthe gods, for surely theyfavour him. My father says

thatLordKraylisshaspreyedupon this mercy as a spoiltchildpreysuponthetoleranceof a doting parent. Like thespoiltchild,Kraylissdeservesa spanking. With HisHighness the Prince'sblessing, I intend toadministeritpersonally.”Jaryd downed a mouthful

of ale with a flourish,lounging in his chair as anathletic man might, whowished others to observe the

fact.Sashaobservedhimwithadarkcuriosity,havingneverseen this particular youngnoble face-to-face before.Jaryd Nyvar was a nameknownthelengthandbreadthof Lenayin, and even thoselikeSashawhotriedtoavoidthe endless gossip ofVerenthane nobility knewsomethingof his exploits.Atno more than twenty-onesummers, Jaryd Nyvar wastheheirofTyree.Hismother

wasacousintoSasha'sfather—King Torvaal Lenayin—which made her and Jarydrelated, she supposed. It washardly uncommon amongstLenay nobility—she wasprobably related to far morearrogant young puss-headsthanJarydNyvar.Butitmadeheruneasy,allthesame.Every year at one of the

great tournaments, JarydNyvar would win personalhonours of swordwork or

horsemanship. Hisflamboyancewasfamous,hisdancing reputedly excellent,anditwassaidhemadegrandgestures to the ladies beforeeverybout.Sashahadhearditsaid jokingly that Jaryd'sswordwork was so excellentbecausehe'dspentmostofhisdays beating off hordes ofgirls, and theirmothers,withastick.Looking at him now, she

grudgingly conceded the

storiesofhisappearancewerenot too far-fetched. He wasvery pretty,with light brownhair worn somewhat longerthan most Verenthanes, justabove the collar at the back,and large, dark brown eyesthat promised fire andmischief in equal measure.She had not heard of hiscommand posting to theFalcon Guards. Perhaps hisfather grew tired of hispointless gallivanting and

thought to put his skills tosomedecent, disciplined use.Andhisfather,theysaid,wasdying. Perhaps that added totheurgency.“The Falcon Guard was

posted to Baen-Tar for thesummer?” Teriyan askedJaryd.“The latter half of the

summer, aye,” Jaryd agreed.He took a grape from thetableand tossed iteasily intohis mouth. “We trained with

theRoyalGuardandothers…gave them a right spankingtoo, I might add. Right,Captain?”“Aye, M'Lord,” Captain

Tyrun agreed easily. “Thatwedid.”“I'veservedinbothHadryn

and Taneryn,” Teriyan said,chewing on a slice of roastmeat. “That entire border'sfullofarmedmenwaitingforan incident. I wonder if theFalconGuardwillbeenough.

You're damn good, sure, buteighty men can't beeverywhere at once. If thisgets serious, there'll behundreds runnin’ around likeheadless chickens.Thousands,maybe.”“Threemorecompaniesare

several days behind us,”Damon said. “Each of thoseis promised at closer to theirfull strength—five hundredmen in total. Most of theFalcon Guard were on

manoeuvre about Baen-Tar.That's another hundred. Weleft in too much haste foranythingmore.”“We'd have gathered a

Valhanan company on theway through,”CaptainTyrunadded, “but there's nonestandingreadyatpresent.Wedid think itcommonsense togather Yuan Kessligh on thewaythrough,however.Ifhe'swilling.”He glanced toward the

emptychair.Sasha shrugged.“I can't speak for him,” shesaid. “But I'd be surprised ifheweren't.”Jaryd slapped the table

with one hand, delighted.“Wonderful!” he exclaimed.“ToridewithYuanKessligh!I've dreamed of that since Iwasalad—smitingevil-doersat Kessligh's side! That foolKraylisswon'tknowwhathithim.”“Kraylissistheevil-doer?”

Sashaasked,implacablycool.“We have yet to establishwhat occurred surroundingLord Rashyd's death. Untilsuch a time as we know forsure, Lord Krayliss deservesthe benefit of any doubt,surely? Or has my father'slaw changed so drasticallywhenIwasn'twatching?”Jaryd smiled broadly, in

the manner of a masterfulwarrior challenged to a duelby a raggedy little farmer's

girl with a stick. “M'Lady,”he said, with a respectful,mirthful nod, “surely youknow what Lord Krayliss islike?Themanisabigot,a…arogue, a thief—a vain,strutting, pompous fool whois a blight upon the goodnobility of Lenayin! Andnow, apparently, a murderer,though this will surelysurprise no one who knowshistype.”“I've met Lord Krayliss,

Master Jaryd. Have you?”Jaryd gazed at her, his smileslowly slipping. “I've metLord Rashyd too. Andstrangely, I find yourdescription could just asreadily describe him as theother.”“I too have met Lord

Rashyd,severaltimes,”Jarydsaid coolly. Sasha wonderedifhe'd ever conversedwith ayoung woman on a matterthat did not involve her

giggling shyly with starryeyes.“Heis…orratherwas…a hard man, at timesconfrontingly so.But at leasthe was not a…a shaggy-headed, mindless, chest-thumping…” he waved ahand, searching for a new,derogatoryadjective.“Pagan?”Sashasuggested.Jarydjustlookedatherfor

a moment, realisationdawning in his eyes. Sashashifted her gaze to Jaegar,

beneath meaningful, raisedeyebrows. Jaegar coughed,andsippedathisdrink.Fromthis angle, the spirit-maskonthe left side of his face wasnot fully visible, but goldglintedfromhisear,anduponhis fingers. The long braid,also, was like nothing arespectable Verenthanewouldeverstooptowear.Anger flared in the future

Great Lord of Tyree's eyes.“Youputwordsinmymouth,

M'Lady,” he said accusingly.“Imeantnosuchthing!”“You young Verenthane

lords putwords in your ownmouths,”Sasharetorted,“andscarcely a thought beforeputting them there.Remember whose guest youare. They're far too polite tosayso.I'mnot.”“Shut up, both of you!”

Damon snapped before Jarydcould reply. The young manfumedather,alltraceofcool

demeanour vanished. Sashastared back, dark eyessmouldering. “Please excusemysister,MasterJaryd,”saidDamon, with forced calm.“Hertempersarefamous.”“And her allegiances,”

Jarydmuttered.“Ohpraydotellusallwhat

that means?” Sashaexclaimed, as Damon rolledhiseyesinfrustration.“I have many Goeren-yai

friends,M'Lady,” Jaryd said,

levelling a finger at her foremphasis. “None of themadmire Lord Krayliss even ajot. You, on the other hand,seem all too pleased to rushtohisdefence.”“I've heard those stories

too,” said Sasha. “TheHadrynandtheircronieshavenever been friends to eitherme orKessligh. They accuseme of sedition, of plottingagainst my father.” She putboth hands upon the table

with firm purpose. “Are youaccusing me of sedition,MasterJaryd?”Jaryd blinked. Sedition, of

course, was punished bydeath, with no exceptions. Aperson so accused, withoutreasonableproof,hadobviousgrounds for an honour duel.Those, also, ended in death.With very few exceptions.Jaryd started to smile oncemore,disbelievingly.Nomanabout the table seemed to

share his humour. JarydNyvar, tournament championofLenayin, seemedbarely tonotice.“No,”hesaid,offhandedly,

with an exasperated raise ofhis eyes to the ceiling, asthough he felt his dignityseverely pained to have totolerate such dreadfully sillypeople. Fool, Sasha thoughtdarkly. “Of course not.Yourtempersdeludeyou,M'Lady.Ihavenothingbutadmiration

for so great a Verenthanebeautyasyourown.”“Tell me, young Master

Jaryd,” said Teriyan, leaningforward with evidentamusement,chewingonsomebread. “Have you eversparred against a warriortrainedinthesvaalverd?”“As a matter of fact, no,”

Jaryd saidmildly. “The onlytwo people so trained inLenayin, I believe, areKesslighCronenverdtandhis

uma. And the visiting serrin,of course, but they neverenter a swordwork contest,eventhoughIhaveoftenseenthemattournaments.”“And have you ever

wondered why the serrindon't enter swordworkcontests?”Teriyanpressed.Jaryd smirked. “Perhaps

theyareafraid.”“Not afraid, young

Master,” said Teriyan. “Justpolite.”

Damon strode angrily alongthe upper corridor, the Star'sold floorboards creakingunderfoot, as the sounds ofmerriment continued frombelow. Sasha followed,conscious that her ownfootstepsmade far less noisethan her brother's, and thattheir respectiveweightswereonly half the reason why.Whentheyreachedhisroom,

DamonusheredSasha inside,closed thedoorand threwonthelatch.It was a good room, as

Lenay accommodation went.Four times larger than mostof the Star's rooms, itsfloorboards covered with adeer hide rug, and smallwindows inlaid across thestonewalls.Againsttheinnerwall,twolargebeds,withtallposts and soft mattressesbeneathpilesoffursandfine,

lowlands linen. Between thetwo beds, a fireplace,cracklingmerrily,andasmallpileoffirewoodinthewickerbasketalongside.“Why do you have to go

and do that?” Damondemanded at her back.Sashawalked to the space betweenthe two beds, where heatfrom the fire provided somecomfort.“Go and do what?” she

retorted.

“And this!” Damonexclaimed, striding over,reaching with one handtoward the tri-braid upon theside of her head…Sashaducked away, scowling athim. “What in the nine hellsisthat?”“It's a tri-braid, Damon.

One braid for each of thethree spirit levels.Don't theyeven teach basic Goeren-yailoreinBaen-Taranymore?”“Why, Sasha?” Damon

demanded, angrily. “Whywearit?”“Because I'm Lenay!”

Sasha shot back. “What areyou?”“Cutitoff.Rightnow.”Sasha folded her arms in

disbelief. “Make me!” sheexclaimed. Arisen from thedinner table, there was asword at her back now, andmore weapons besides.Damon, unlikeMaster Jaryd,knewbetter.

“Good gods, Sasha,” heexclaimed, with a sharpinhaling of breath. He putboth hands to his head,fingers lacedwithinhis thickdark hair, looking as hewouldneverwittinglyappearbefore his men—utterly at aloss. “A year since I've seenyou.Afullyear.Iwasalmostlookingforwardtoseeingyouagain…almost! Can youbelieve that? And this is thewelcomeIget!”

Sasha just stared at him,sullenly. Her temper slowlycoolingasshegazedupatherbrother. Not all the Lenayinlinewereblessedwithheight—she was proof enough ofthat. But Damon was. Amoderately tall young man,with a build that spokemoreof speed and balance thanbrute strength. He would bevery handsome indeed, shethought, if not for theoccasionally petulant curl of

hislipandthefaintlychildishwhine in his tone wheneverhe felt events going againsthim.Hewasthemiddlechildof

ten royal siblings, of whomnine now survived. WithKrystoff dead, Koenyg washeir.Wylfredwould be next,hadhenotfoundreligionandcommitted to theVerenthaneorder instead, with theirfather's blessing. Then cameDamon. Second-in-line now

and struggling so very hardbeneath the burden ofexpectation that came of onemartyred brother who wasalready legend, and anoverbearing stone-head of asurvivingelderbrother.“I'm not a Verenthane,

Damon,” Sasha told him,firmly. “I'll never be aVerenthane. You could cutmybraid,stickme inadressandfeedmeholyfablesuntilmy mind dissolves from the

sheer boredom, and I'll stillnotbeaVerenthane.”“Well that's all fine,

Sasha,” Damon said,exasperated. “You're not aVerenthane. Good for you.But you have a commitmentto our father, and thatcommitment includes notmaking overt statements ofloyalty toward the Goeren-yai.”“Whythehellsnot?”Sasha

fumed.“Goeren-yaiaremore

than half of Lenayin last Ilooked! It's only you lordlytypes that converted, and thecities and bigger towns…most of Lenayin is just likethis, Damon! Small villagesand towns filledwithdecent,hard-working folk who asknothing more than goodrulers and the right tocontinue being who they arewithoutsomeshaven-headed,black-robed idiot strollinginto their lives and

demandingtheirfealty.”“Sasha, your last name is

Lenayin!” Damon paused, tolet the impactof thatsink in.Wiser than to rise to herprovocations. That was new.“The family of Lenayin isVerenthane!Ithasbeenforacentury,since theLiberation!Now, whether yourarrangement with Kesslighmeans that your title isofficially ‘Princess’ or not,your family name remains

Lenayin! And while thatcontinues to be so, you shallnot,underanycircumstances,break with the continuity ofthelineofLenayin!”Sashawavedbothhandsin

disgust and strode across thefloor to lean against awindow rim. Lookingnortheastupthevalley,smalllights burned from thewindows of the houses thatlined the road, then thedark,ragged edge of the upper

treeline, separating the landfrom the vast expanse ofstars.HyathontheWarriorsatlow on the horizon, andSasha's eye traced the brightstars of shoulder, elbow andswordpommelraisedinmid-stroke.“Sasha.”Damonstrolledto

her previous spot, blockingthe fire's warmth. “MasterJaryd speaks the truth. Therehavebeen rumours, since thecall to Rathynal, of Krayliss

courtingyourapproval…”“The nobility talks,

Damon,” Sasha retorted,breathfrostinguponthecold,dark glass. “Rumour is theobsession of the ruling class,everyonealways talksof thisor that development, who isin favour with whom, andneveracare for theconcernsofthepeople.That'sallitis—talk.”“Justwhodoyouthinkyou

are, Sasha?” Damon said in

exasperation.“Achampionofthecommonpeople?BecauseIwilltellyouthis,littlesister—it's precisely that kind oftalk that breeds rumours.Krayliss and his kind cannotbe dismissed so easily, theydo have a strong followingamongst some of thepeople…”“Vastly overstated,” Sasha

countered, rounding on him.She folded her arms andleaned her backside against

the stone windowsill. “Theruling Verenthanes simplydon't understand their ownpeople, Damon. And do youknow why that is? It'sbecause there are so fewGoeren-yai among the rulingclasses. Krayliss is the onlyprovincial lord, and he's amaniac!”“A maniac who claims

ancestry with the line ofUdalyn,” Damon saidsharply. “You of all people

shouldknowwhattheUdalynmeantoGoeren-yaiallacrossLenayin.Suchappealscannotbetakenlightly.”“I of all peopledo know,”

Sasha said darkly. “You'reonly quoting what Koenygtold you. And he knowsnothing.”Damonbrokeoffhis reply

as the door rattled, held fastagainst the latch. Then animpatienthammering.Damonlooked at first indignant,

wondering who would daresuch impetuosity againstLenay royalty. Thenrealisation, and he stroderapidly to the door, flung offthelatchandsteppedbackforit to open. Kessligh entered,holding a wicker cageoccupied by three flapping,cluckingchickens.“Ah good,” said the

greatest swordsman inLenayin,noticingthefire.Hecarried the cage across the

creaking floor with barely aglance to Damon or Sasha,and placed the cage betweenthe two beds. The chickensflapped, then settled. “Theselowland reds don't like thecoldsomuch.Makesforbadeggs.”And he appeared to notice

Damon for the first time, asthe young prince relatchedthe door and came acrosswith an extended hand.Kessligh shook it, forearm to

forearmintheLenayfashion.Damon had half a head onKessligh and nearly thirtyyearsofyouth.Yetsomehow,in Kessligh's presence, heseemedtoshrinkinstature.“Yuan Kessligh,” Damon

said, with great deference.“Yuan,” Sasha reflected,watching them from herwindowsill. The only formaltitle Kessligh still retained,and that merely denoting agreat warrior. An old Lenay

traditionitwas,nowreservedfor those distinguished bylongserviceinbattle,betheyVerenthane or Goeren-yai. Itremained one of thosetraditionsthatboundthedualfaiths of Lenayin together,ratherthanpulledthemapart.But Kessligh, of course, wasneither Goeren-yai norVerenthane. “An honour toseeyouoncemore.”“Likewise,youngDamon,”

Kessligh replied, his tone

strong with that familiarKessligh-edge. Sharp andcutting, in a way that longyearsintheserviceofrefinedLenay lords had neverentirely dulled. Hard browneyesbore intoDamon's own,beneath a fringe of untidy,greying hair. “And are youthe hunter, this time? Ormerely the shepherd, tendingto errant sheep?” With acryptic glance across atSasha.

Sashamadeaface,farlessimpressed by the gravitas ofthe former LenayCommander of Armies thanmost.“Oh, well…” Damon

clearedhis throat.“Youhaveheard, then? About LordRashyd?”“I was just talking

downstairs,” Kessligh saidcalmly.“Catchingupwitholdfriends, learning the news,suchasitis.SoMasterJaryd

will live to see past dawn, Itakeit?”Damon blinked, looking

most uncertain. Which wasoften the way, for thoseconfronted with Kessligh'ssharp irreverence on mattersthat most consideredimportant.“It appears that way,”

Damon said, with a furtheruncertain glance at Sasha.Sasha watched, mercilesslycurious. “Please, won't you

sit? I'll have someone bringupsometea.”“Already done,” said

Kessligh, “but thank you.”And he sat, with no furtherado, cross-legged on thefurtherbed,withthechickensmurmuring and clucking tothemselves on the floorbelow.Sashaconsidered thestudy

in profiles as Damon undidhisswordbeltandmadetositonthebedopposite.Damon's

face, evidently anxious, hisfeatures soft and not entirelypronounced. And Kessligh's,rugged and lined with years,with a beakish nose, a sharpchinandhard,searchingeyes.Like a work of carving,expertly done yet neverentirely completed. He satstraight-backed on the bed,legs tucked tightly beneath,with the poise of aman halfhisyears.Itwasaposturethatwastednotamuscleorsinew,

anefficiencybornoflifelongdiscipline and devotion todetail. And his sword wasworn not at the hip, as withmost fighting men ofLenayin, but clipped to thebandolieronhisback,aswithall fighters of the svaalverdstyle.Damon sat with less poise

than Sasha's teacher—oruman,intheSaalsitongueofthe serrin—placing a foot onthe bedframe and pulling up

one knee. At his feet, thechickens clucked andfluttered at the furtherdisturbance.Damonlookedatthe chickens. And atKessligh. Struggling to thinkof something to say. Sashatried to keep an uncharitablesmileincheck.“These are good

chickens?” he managedfinally. Sasha coughed, abarely restrained splutter.Damonshotheradarklook.

“WellI'mtryingtobroadenthebreedingrange,”Kesslighreplied serenely. “These arekersan ross, from thelowlands. The eggs have aninteresting flavour, muchbetter for making lightpastries.”“You traded for these?”

Damon asked, attemptinginterest, to his credit. It wasLenaycustomthatnoserioustalk could begin before theteaarrived.PoorDamonwas

horribleatsmalltalk.“A local farmer placed an

order through hisconnections,” Kesslighreplied.“AwonderfultradingsystemwenowhavewiththeTorovans.Placeanorderwiththe right people and aTorovan convoy will deliverin two or three months.They're becoming quitepopular.”“As with all things

Torovan,” Sasha remarked.

Damon frowned at her.Kesslighsimplysmiled.“Ah,” he said. “Thus

speaks she of the Nasi-Keth.ShewhofightswithSaalshenstyle, lovesVonnersenspicesin all her foods, washesregularly with the importedoils of coastal Maras, livesoff the wealth from theTorovan love of Lenay-bredhorses, speaks two foreigntongues,andhasbeenknowntodownentiretankardsofale

with visiting serrin travellerswhileplayingAmeryngamesof chance. But no lover offoreignersshe.”Kessligh'ssharpeyesfixed

uponher, sardonically.Sashaheld her tongue, eyebrowsraised in a manner thatinvited praise for doing so.There had been times in thepast when she had not beensodisciplined.Hegrunted,inmild amusement. Then camea knocking on the door,

which Sasha answered andfound the tea delivered on atray.She set the tray on a

footstool for Kessligh toprepare, then settled into arecliningchairwitha sighofachingmuscles.Damon accepted his tea

with evident discomfort.Princeornot,fewLenaysfeltcomfortable having Kesslighserve them tea. But that hadnot stopped Kessligh from

cooking for entire tables ofBaerlyn folk when suitableoccasions arose. Sasha hadalways found it curious, thisyawning gulf between thepopular Lenay notion ofKesslighthevanquishingwarhero, and her familiar,homespun reality. Kesslighthesonofpoordockworkersin lowlandsPetrodor, tradingcapitalofTorovan,forwhomLenaywasasecond(orthird)language, still spokenwith a

tinge of broad, lowlandervowels that others remarkedupon, but Sasha had longsince ceased to notice.Kessligh the Nasi-Keth—aserrin cult (or movement,Kessligh insisted) whosepresence had long beenprominent amongst theimpoverished peoples ofPetrodor. Kessligh, serrin-friend, with old ties andallegiances that even threedecades of life and fame in

Lenayin had not managed toerase.Kessligh considered

Sasha's evident wearinesswith amusement, sipping athis tea. “Did Teriyan wearyouout?”heasked.“More demonstrations,”

Sasha replied wryly,stretchingout legsanda freearm, arching her back like acat. Her left shoulder achedfrom a recent strain. Itseemed to have altered the

balance of her grip, for thetendonofherleftthumbnowthrobbed in sympathy whereher grip upon the stanch hadsomehow tightened,unconsciously. The knuckleson her right hand werebruised where a stanch hadcaught her, and severalmoreimpactsachedabouther ribs,causing a wince if one werepressed unexpectedly. Thefront of her right ankleremained tender from where

she'd turned it several daysago,duringoneofKessligh'sfootwork exercises. Andthosewere just the pains shewasmostawareof.Allinall,just another day for the umaof Kessligh Cronenverdt.“They all want to seesvaalverd, so I show themsvaalverd. And rather thanlearning, they then spend thewhole time complaining thatit'simpossible.”Kessligh shook his head.

“Svaalverdistaughtfromthecradle or not at all,” he said.“Best they learn little. Itmakes an ill fit withtraditional Lenay techniques.Men who try both get theirfooting confused and tripthemselvesup.”“Wecouldtryteachingthe

kids,”saidSasha,sippingherown tea. “Before Jaegar andothers get their hooks intothem.”“The culture here is set,”

Kesslighreplied.“I'mloathtotamper with it. Tradition hasitsown strength, and its ownlife. And I fear I've causedenough damage to Lenaycustom already.”Meaningfully.Sasha snorted. “Well I

would be a good little farmwench, but it's difficult tofight in dresses, andimpossibletoride…”“Youcouldhavekeptyour

hair long,” Kessligh

suggested.“Andwornaman'sbraid?”

WithaglanceatDamon,wholistened and watched withgreat intrigue. The formerLenay Princess and theformerLenayCommanderofArmies.TomanyinLenayin,it still seemed anoutrageouslyunlikelypairing.Manyrumouredas to its truenature. “I couldn't wear itlooselikethewomenbecausethen itwouldget in theway,

butIcan'twearabraidlikeaman because then I'm notallowedtobeawomanatall.The only option left was tocut it short as some of theserringirlswearit.Idon'tdoeverythingjusttobedifficult,you know, I did actually putsomethoughtintoit.”“The evidence of that

doesn't equal yourconclusion,” Kesslighremarkedwithamusement.Sasha gave Damon an

exasperated look. “This iswhatpassesforentertainmentinthegreatmindofKesslighCronenverdt,” she told him.“Belittling me in front ofothers.”“What's not entertaining

aboutit?”Damonsaidwarily.Sashamadeafaceathim.“I assume you've made

comment on Sasha's newappendage?” Kesslighcontinued wryly, with a nodat her tri-braid. “She insists

it's all the fashion.Myself, Iwonderwhyshecan'tholdtoTorovan jewellery and knee-high boots like good, properLenaychildren.”Sasha grinned. Damon

blinked,andsippedhisteatocover the silence as he triedto figure out what to say.“You approve?” he saidfinally.Kessligh made an

expansive shrug. “Approve,disapprove…” He held a

hand in Sasha's direction.“Behold, young Damon, atwenty-year-old female. Inthe face of such as this, ofwhatconsequenceisitformetoapproveordisapprove?”Damon shrugged, faintly.

“MostLenayfamiliesarelessaccommodating.Tradition,asyou say.” Sasha raised aneyebrow. It was moreconfrontational than she'dexpectedfromDamon.“Thisismyuma,”Kessligh

replied calmly. “I am heruman. In the ways of theserrin, and thus the ways ofthe Nasi-Keth, it is not forumantodictatepathstotheiruma. She will go her ownway, and find her own path.Shouldshehavechosenstudyand herbal lore instead ofswordwork and soldiery, thatwould also have been herchoice…although asomewhat poorer teacher Iwouldhavemade,nodoubt.

“So she feels a commoncausewith theGoeren-yai ofLenayin.” He shrugged.“Hardly surprising, havinglived amongst them fortwelve of her twenty years.Themistakeyouallmake,beyouVerenthanesorromanticslike Krayliss, is to think ofherasanythingotherthanmyuma. What she does, andwhat she chooses to wear inher hair, she does as uma tome. This is a separate thing

frompolitics.Quitefrankly,itdoes not concern you. Norshoulditconcernourking.”“Ourkingconcernshimself

with many things,” Damonsaidmildly.“Not this,” said Kessligh.

“Heowesmetoomuch.AndKing Torvaal always repayshis debts.” Damon gazeddownathisteacup.“Baerlynis not the most direct linefrom Baen-Tar to Taneryn.What purpose does this

detourserve?”Damon glanced up. “Your

assistance,” he said plainly.“YouareasgreatlyrespectedinTanerynashere.Myfatherfeels, and I agree, that yourpresence in Taneryn wouldcalm the mood of thepeople.”“Theking'sjusticemustbe

the king's,” Kessligh replied,ahardstareunfixingupontheyoungprince'sface.“Icannottakehisplace.Sucha role is

moreyoursthanmine.”“We have concern about

the people of Hadryn takingmattersintotheirownhands,”said Damon. “Lenayin hasbeen mercifully free of civilstrife over the last century.Thekingwouldnot see suchold history repeated. Yourpresencewouldbevalued.”“Iclaimnospecialpowers

over the hard men ofHadryn,” said Kessligh, witha shake of his head. “The

north has never loved me.During the Great War, mysuccesses stolemuch thunderfrom the northern lords, andnow Lenay history recordsthat forces under mycommand saved them fromcertain defeat. That couldhave been acceptable,were IVerenthane, or a northerner.ButI'mafraidthenorthviewsGoeren-yai andNasi-Keth ascut from the same cloth—irredeemably pagan and

godless. I do not see whatcomfort my presence therecouldbring.”“But you will come?”

Damonpersisted.Kesslighsippedhistea,his

eyes not leaving Damon's.“Should my Lord Kingcommand it,” he said, inmeasured tones. “Of course,you understand that Sashamust therefore accompanyme?”Damon blinked at him.

AndglancedacrossatSasha.“Theseeventsmakeforgreatuncertainty.IhadthoughtforhertoremaininBaerlyn,witha complement of FalconGuardforprotection.”“You'd what?” Sasha

asked, with no diplomacy atall.Kessligh held up a hand,

and she held her tongue,fuming.Heunfoldedhislegs,inonelithemove,andleanedforward to pour some more

tea from the earthen-glazeteapot. “She's safer at myside,” he said. And gazedclosely at Damon. “And hercontinued presence here,away from me, would onlycreate an inviting target,wouldn't you say? In theseuncertaintimes,it'sbesttobesure.”

“I’M SAFER AT YOUR SIDE?”

Sasha whisperedincredulously, as she walkedwithKesslighoutthroughtheinn's rear exit, and into thepaved courtyard at the back.“What am I, some Baen-Tarnoble wench to be protectedateveryturn?”

The night chill was sharp,breathfrostingbeforeherlipsas she spoke.The remainsofadecliningfireburnedwithinthe courtyard, surrounded byagreatmanymen,withacupinhand,orplacedsomewherenearby.Kesslighwalkedsoastokeepwellclearofthefire'slight, and together theypassedunnoticedinthedark.“Damon's not here forme,

Sasha,”Kesslighsaidgrimly,hands in the pockets of his

jacketashestrode.“He'shereforyou.”“For me? He doesn't even

wantmealong…”“Damn it, pay attention,”

Kessligh rebuked her, withmorethanatraceofirritation.“Haven't you grasped it yet?Despite everything I've beentellingyou,withyour friendsand drinking sessions, andthat new growth sproutingfrom the side of your head?Krayliss ismakinghismove,

Sasha.It'sadesperate,stupid,foolishmove,butnomoresothanonemighthaveexpectedfrom Krayliss. He threatensmartyrdom. If we're all notextremely careful, he mightjustgetit.”Sasha frowned. She didn't

likeitwhenKesslighgotlikethis. He made everythingseem so complicated. Whycouldn't he just accept whatshe was, and how she felt?Why couldn't everyone?

“Krayliss…” and she shookher head, trying to clear hermind. “Krayliss can't usemeasafigurehead.”Tryingtoberational. “I'm a woman, he'dnever accept awoman as hissymbol of Goeren-yairevival…”“You're worse than a

woman,” Kessligh cut in,“you're Nasi-Keth. Kraylisshates all foreigners, Sasha—that means me, thelowlanders and the serrin

equally, he makes nodistinction. But you're theclosest thing to a genuineGoeren-yai within the royalline that he's got, and hemight just be desperateenough. Have you seen thecondition of the FalconGuard'shorses?Damonmadethe ride from Baen-Tar fast.He came to secure you, tomake sure Krayliss couldn'treach you first. That's thedoing of your father's

advisors. Your father haslittle enough fear of you.Theyhaveplenty.”“My father's advisors now

includeWynaTelgar,”Sashamuttered. “To hear Sofy tellof it, anyhow. I'm sure myeldest brother's wife wouldnothavebeenpleasedtohearthat her father is dead. Iwonder whyKoenyg did notcome himself, with thatdragon breathing fire downhisneck.”

“Prince Koenyg is astickler for the rules,”Kessligh said grimly.“Rathynalapproachesandtheheir should not gogallivanting off to theprovincestobashsomelordlyheads together. That's whatjuniorprincesarefor.”Lampslitthestablesahead

where several guardsmenwere talking with localBaerlyn men, some of themregular stablehands. Several

lads carried heavy blankets,or lugged saddlebags, orshifted loads of hay. The airsmelled of hay, manure andhorses—to Sasha's nose, amost familiar and agreeableodour, tinged with thesweetness of burning lampoil.“It'stheRathynal,isn'tit?”

Sasha said, arms wrappedabout herself, only partly torepresstheshiversbroughtonby the cold air. “That's why

everyone'ssojumpy.”“There's a lot to be jumpy

about,” saidKessligh, raisinga hand in answer to thehorsemen's respectful hails.“Such a large meeting canonly reopen old wounds.Especially with foreignlowlanders invited. There'swar in the offing, Sasha. Usoldwarhorses can smell it inthe air. Damn right we'rejumpy.Youshouldbetoo.”“There won't be a war,”

Sasha said, with forcedcertainty as they walkeddownthelonglineofstables.“Ijustcan'timaginewe'llgetinvolved in some stupid warin theBacosh. It's all too faraway.”“It'snearerthanSaalshen,”

Kessligh said grimly. “Andserrincomehereallthetime.BecarefulofMasterJaryd—Iknow you derive great joyfromboxingtheearsofstuck-upyoungidiotslikehim,and

Isympathise.ButRathynalisa time for all the great lordsto make great decisions, andthisRathynalshallbegreaterthanmost.LordKrayliss isahuge obstacle in suchmeetings—so long as hecontinues to sow division,Lenayin shall be foreverdivided, and the Verenthanenobility will never have itswayonanygreat issue.LordKrayliss delights in twistingthe knife and ruining their

grand plans at the mostinopportunemoments.“Whetheryoulikeitornot,

Verenthane nobility hear therumours connecting you tothe Goeren-yai, and toKrayliss, and they worry. InLordAystin'seyes,theremaynot be very much differencebetween you and Krayliss atall, and so I'd be surprised ifhis heir Jaryd feelsdifferently. You can becertain Lord Rashyd and the

northerners are not the onlyLenay lords whowould loveto see Krayliss deposed andthe entire ruling line ofTanerynreplacedwithagoodVerenthane family. It wouldnot surprise me to find thatwhatever incident hasoccurred,itwascookedupbyLord Rashyd with supportfrom other Lenay lords,possiblyincludingGreatLordAystin Nyvar of Tyreehimself.”

“You're tellingme that thegallant and dashing MasterJaryd Nyvar may wish toplant a knife in my back?”Sasha suggested with someincredulity.“I'm telling you to be

careful. Verenthanesfrequently claim that all theoldbloodfeudsandbickeringdisappeared with theLiberationand thecomingofVerenthaneism—don'tbelieve it. It's still there, just

hiding. It's sneaking self-interest disguised beneath acloak of smiling Verenthanebrotherhood, and that makesit even more dangerous thanwhen itwas out in the open,as in older times…or moredangerous,atleast,ifyouareits target. Trust me—I wasborn in Petrodor, and I'veseen it. In such disputes ofpower, it's always the knifeyoucan'tseethatkillsyou.”“I'd prefer the old days,”

Sasha snorted. “At least thenrival chieftains killed theiropponentsfacetoface.”“Don'tbestupid,”Kessligh

said shortly. “A thousandcorpses honourably killed isnoimprovementonahandfulof victims strangled in thenight.”Terjellyn hung his head

over the stable door, havingheard themcoming.Kesslighgave him an affectionate rubas a stable boy hovered,

awaiting anything Baerlyn'stwo most famous residentsmightrequire.“You'll be with Jaegar all

night?” Sasha asked. Theunhappiness must haveshown in her voice, forKessligh gave her a sardoniclook.“I think you can handle

your brother for one night,”he remarked. “It would benice if I could discussBaerlyn's affairs with Jaegar

beforewe ride.Wemight begone several weeks.”Terjellyn nudged at hisshoulder. The big chestnutstallion was a directdescendant of Tamaryn,Kessligh's mount during thegreat Cherrovan War thirtyyears gone. He'd riddenTamaryn all the way fromPetrodor, a mere sergeantamongtheTorovanvolunteerbrigadesthathadfloodedintoLenayin following the

invasion of the Cherrovanwarlord Markield. TheLiberation seventy yearsgone, the Archbishop ofTorovan had not wished tosee the thriving “VerenthaneKingdom” ofLenayin lost toa raging barbarian mob andhad commanded Torovanbelievers to ride west on aholywar.Kessligh,however,hadnotriddenforfaith.Tamaryn had then borne

himthroughthebetterpartof

an entire year's fighting, inthe wooded valleys andmountainsofLenayin,duringwhich Kessligh had risen tolieutenant, then captain, andthen Commander of Armiesfor all Lenayin, and inflicteda thrashing upon theCherrovan from which theyhadnotrecoveredtothisveryday.Eversince,Kesslighhadneverhadaprimaryride thatwas not a descendant ofTamaryn—Terjellyn's great-

grandfather. It was the onlysuperstition Sasha had everknownhimtoconcede.“Be nice to Damon. Try

not to provoke him toomuch.”Sasha stared elsewhere as

Kessligh opened the stabledoor, and gave Terjellyn aonce-over before mountingbareback. The big stallion, amore mature and refinedgentleman than her Peg,walked calmly into the

courtyard.“We'llbeoffbeforedawn,”

Kessligh told her from theheight of his mount. “We'llgo home first, get the gear,thenrejointhecolumnontheway to Taneryn.” Sashanodded, arms folded againstthe cold. “What's yourproblem?”“What'll happen to

Krayliss?”sheasked.“Youcarethatmuch?”“About the fate of the

Goeren-yai?” Sasha shotback.“HowcouldInot?”Kessligh exhaled hard,

glancing elsewhere with afrown.“I don't knowwhat to tell

you,” he said finally. “Youchose this path foryourself…”“Ididnot,”Sasharetorted,

sullenly.“Itchoseme.”“Youare stillyour father's

daughter, Sasha. Whatevernew role and title you bear

now.” His eyes refixed uponher with narrowed intent.“None of us can escape theaccidents of our birth soeasily.”“That's not what you told

Damonbackthere.Whatwasall that about me being youruma, and nothing moreshouldmatter?”“Onesideofanargument,”

Kessligh said calmly. “I'msure Damon can provide theothersidehimself.”

“You should have chosenanotheruma.Onewithoutthefamilybaggage.”Kessligh's lean, wry

features thinned with a faintsmile.“Idon'trecallthatIdidchoose you. In that, youchoseme.”Sasha gazed up at him.

Kessligh's expression, alivewith the dancing shadows oflamplight, was almostaffectionate.“Don'tsleepin,”hewarned

her. “And for the gods’ ownsakes, stay away from thatryebeer.It'smurder.”Andhenudged Terjellyn with hisheels, clattering off up thedark, cobbled path to thecourtyard, and the laughingmerrimentofmen.

Sleepdidnotcomeeasy.Fora long time, Sasha laybeneaththeheavycoversand

gazed at the ceiling. Theroomglowedwiththeorangeembers from the fire. Fromthesecondbed, furthest fromthedoor,shecouldhearlittlesoundfromDamon'sbed.She would have preferred

her own, separate room, aswas the usual arrangementwhen she had cause to stayovernight at the Star. ButDamon having acquired thelordlyquarters, formdictatedthat one royal should not

sleep in lesseraccommodation than theother. Such an occurrencemight spread rumours of adivision.Sasha hated it all. Hated

the gossip and sidewayslooks, hated the out-of-towners who stared andwhispered, hated thenortherners who sneered andmade smirking commentsamongst themselves. Hadalways hated it, in all her

living memory. And hermemory, Kessligh hadfrequently noted withsomething less thanpleasure,was vast. She recalled theechoing stone halls of Baen-Tar Palace all toowell, withtheirexpensive tapestriesandpaintings. Recalled well thetexture of the grass in thelittle courtyards betweenbuildings where she had satfor lessons on a sunny day,and found fargreater interest

in the beetles and flowergardensthaninclassicaltextsor Torovan history…to saynothing of scripture, orembroidery.Recalled the look her

instructors, servants andvarious assortedminders hadgiven her, the “Sashandra-always-in-trouble” look, thatexpected bad behaviour andwasfrequentlypresentedwithsuch. She'd never understoodthose rules. Should a deep-

cushionmattressnot be usedfor jumping? And what onearth was wrong withthrowingscrapsoffoodtothepigeons that sat upon herbedroomwindowledge?Andrunning in hallways, whatpossibleharmcoulditcause?“Unladylike,”hadbeenthe

routine answer. Andundignified, for a princess ofLenayin. “Then I don't wanttobeaprincessofLenayin!”had been her typically

untactful, six-year-old reply.They'dlockedherinherroomand given her a compositionassignment to fill the time.She recalled even now theblank page of paper sheaf,and the little, sharp-tippedquill that looked like it hadoncebeenawaterbirdfeather.Wasthatnatural?Torecall

theexperiencesofasix-year-oldwithsuchdetailedclarity?Kessligh had said, only half-seriously, that it stopped her

from growing up, so tightlydid she clutch to thememories of her past. Sashahad answered that on thecontrary, it spurred her toleave that time even furtherbehind.Butnow,lyinginthewarm, orange glow of theStar's lordly quarters, shewondered.She recalled throwing the

sheaf of papers out thewindow, scattering pigeonsfromtheledge,andpapersall

over the gardens below. Notbeing able to do what onechose had seemed a greatinjustice. Her minders hadconcluded that she wasspoiled, and had determinedto make life more difficult,removing more privileges,andincreasingtheseverityofpunishments. That had onlymade her angry. The nexttime she'd thrown somethingout of the window, it hadbeen heavy, and she hadn't

openedthewindowfirst.Damon, of course, had

since challenged herrecollectionsofthosetimes.Ithadnotbeenallherminders’fault, he'd proclaimed, uponher first visit back to Baen-Tar in four years, at the ripeold age of twelve.He'd beenfifteen, somewhat ganglingandwithtwoleftfeet‒notanuncommon condition forboys, Kessligh had assuredher,andonereasonwhygirls

were easier to train. She'dbeen born wild, Damon hadinsisted. Wild like a bobcat,breaking things and bitingpeople from the momentshe'd learned how to walk.They'd only been trying tostopherfromkillingsomeone—mostlikelyherself.Andallof it had been no one's faultbutherown.Twelve-year-oldSashahad

punchedhiminthenose.Whatever the cause of the

madness, Krystoff had beenthecure.Krystoff, theheir tothe throne of Lenayin, withhis flowing black hair, hiseasy laugh, and his rakish,good-humoured charm.Eleven years her senior, thesecond eldest after Marya,whowas now safelymarriedto the ruling family ofPetrodor. Sasha suffered aflashofveryearlymemory…hidingbehindahaybale inabarn, watching Kessligh and

Krystoffsparringwithfuriousintensity.Gods she must have been

young.She tried to recall thedress—her memory ofdresses was particularlyexcellent,muchthesamewayas a longtime prisoner mustsurely recall various types ofshackles and chains. Thefrilly, tight-stitchedpetticoats?Yes, itmust havebeen, she rememberedyanking at them beneath her

pleated, little girl's dress,trying to stop them fromtugging as she crouched.She'd been five, then, thatnight in thebarn…and ithadbeennight,hadn'tit?Yes,sherecalled the flickeringlamplight and the mustysmell of burning oil behindthefamiliarodourofhay.But there hadn't been any

fire damage to the northernwall in that memory. She'dnearly burned it all down at

the beginning of her sixthyear,whenshe'dbeencaughtsneaking and forciblyremoved. She'd grabbed andthrown a bale hook in herfury as they'd carried heraway, striking a nearby lampand sending hay bales up inroaring flames. Serrin oil,she'd later learned—long-lasting,butveryflammable.Kessligh had seen that

throw, however, and beenimpressed. That had been

about the time Krystoff hadbegun to take pity on her,taking an interest in one ofhissistersatanagewhentheothers,saveforMarya,mightas well have been invisible.Sherecalledhimenteringherroom the day following thefire,anathleticandwell-builtseventeen, and surely thestrongest, most handsomeman in all Baen-Tar to herworshipful eyes. She'd beencrying. He'd asked her why.

And she'd explained that shewastobekeptunderlockandkey for aweek.No sunlight,save what fell naturallythrough her bedroomwindow. No natural things,save the pigeons thatsquabbled and made sillysoundsonherwindowledge.No grassy courtyards. Norunning, and definitely nochancetosneaktothecreakyoldbarnin theoldcastleandwatch the Lenayin

Commander of Armiesattempt to whip her eldestbrotherintoarespectableheirandNasi-Kethuma.Krystoff had melted. And

suddenly, in the followingdays, she was free. He'dpromised her that if she justbehaved herself, she couldcome and watch him trainthat night. She'd beencourteous and attentive allthrough that day, and hadperformed all her required

tasks without so much asfidgeting. Her minders hadbeen incredulous. AndKrystoff, true to his word,had found her a nice, highhay bale to sit on andwatchproceedings in the barn thatevening after dinner…forKrystoff trained twice a day,she'd been amazed to learn,anddidmanyotherexercisesin between.Hewas going tobe not only heir of Lenayin,butNasi-Keth, likeKessligh.

She had not, of course,grasped anything of thebroader significance of thishistoric fact, nor the disquietit had surely caused amongstdevout Verenthaneseverywhere, despiteassurances that in Petrodor,most Nasi-Keth were alsoVerenthanes, and found noconflictbetween the two.AllSasha had knownwas that itseemedawfullyexciting.Kessligh, with curious

humour, had even shownhersome basic footwork whenbig brother Krystoff hadneeded a rest. She'd gotten itfirst go, slippered feetdancingonthedustandloosestraw. Krystoff hadencouragedherwithtypicallyinfectiousenthusiasm.They'dfound her a broomstick,broken the end off and she'dused it for a practice stanch.She'dmanagedthebasictaka-dan first time also—some of

whichhadcomefromspying,and some from simpleinspiration.She'devengottenthe tricky wrist-angle, andhow it shifted with differentfooting. Krystoff had beenexcitedenoughtopickherupand spin her about, whereanother man might have feltslighted,upstagedbyhislittlesisterwithabroomstick.Veryfew pupils ever simply “got”the svaalverd first time, notevenserrin.Kesslighhadjust

watched, his expressionunreadable.From then on, within the

privacy of the barn atevenings, there'd beeninstruction for Sasha also.Lessons and exercises, too,for her to perform in herroom in early mornings,before theservantsarrived tofill her morning bath, anddressherintheirlatesttorturecontraption, and brush herlong,flowinghair.She'dkept

that half-a-broomstickbeneath her mattress, andwhen it was found andconfiscated, she'd used thefire poker in her roominstead. Those exercises hadbeen her wonderful secret—something herminders couldnever take away—and she'dpractised every time she'dfound a privatemoment.Herminders did not approve ofKrystoff's increasingly activerole in her life, despite her

improved behaviour. Withimproved behaviour hadcome high spirits, and ahappy, rambunctious littleSashandra Lenayin had beeneverybit thechallenge thatasullen, moody one hadpresented.They'd been kindred

spirits, sheandKrystoff.Sherecalled helping him to raidthe kitchens when soldiersjust arrived from impromptuexercises were hungry and

unhappyatbeingtoldtowaituntil mealtime. RecalledKrystoff flustering the chiefcook, and sweet-talking thegiggling, blushing kitchenmaids,whileSashahadstoodonachair,andloadedloavesof bread and bowls of souponto trays for the queuingsoldiers,who'dgrinnedatherandruffledherhair.Another time, he'd

somehow talked theproprietorof the traininghall

into admitting her—Krystoffhad been said to own theknack of talking fish out ofwater,orchickensintoflight.(Or virtuous Verenthanemaidens into hisbedchambers, many had alsosaid, when they thought shecouldn't hear.) There she'dwatched athletic Lenaywarriors drenched in sweat,pounding each other'sdefences with utmostconfidence and swagger…

until they'd come up againstKrystoff's svaalverd, andfound it like trying to swat afly from the air with awheelwright'shammer.Yet another time, rather

naively, he'd introduced herto horses, and his little sisterhad fallen in love for asecondtime.LittleSashandrawould abandon classes to gowanderingaroundthestables,watching the stable boys andpestering the trainers for

desperately covetedknowledge. And when theRoyal Guards put on aformation display for avisiting foreign lord…well,no locks nor bars nor solidstonewallscouldholdher.Those had been the best

days, when her newfoundconfidence had blossomed,and with it, her first truesense of self. She'd evenmade peace with her otherbrothers and sisters…or no,

she reflected now as shegazed at the ceiling—maybenot peace.More like a truce.An uneasy and often hostileone,withoccasionalbreachescaused by either party, butusually resolved in shortorder.Given nine headstrong

siblings, that had been nomean achievement. Otherthan Krystoff, Marya—theeldest—had been her bestfriend, and her marriage and

departure for Petrodor hadbeen a sad day indeed.Koenyg, then second-in-linefor the throne behindKrystoff, had long beenjealous of his elder brother'scarefree popularity, and hadspent much of his lifeattempting to becomeeverything that Krystoff wasnot—disciplined, calm andsober.HersisterPetryna,nowmarried to the heir ofLenayin'sYethulynprovince,

had been studious andsensible, and no lover ofoutrageous antics. Wylfredhad preferred his owncompany and spent much ofhis free time in temple withhisbooks.AndthentherewasDamon,onlyaboyhimselfinall her Baen-Tar memories,and oh-so self-conscious andawkward in the presence ofhis overbearing, talentedelder brothers. And Alythia,theglamorousone,wholoved

everything princessly thatSasha hated, and loved evenmoretodemonstratethatfacttotheworld.And then, of course, there

were her two youngersiblings, Sofy and Myklas…and her eyes widened. ShehadnotaskedanythingaboutSofy! Gods and spirits, howcouldshebesoforgetful?Sherolled her head upon thepillow and cast a glanceacross at Damon, apparently

asleep beneath the covers.But there might be no timetomorrow,shereasoned.“Damon,”shecalledacross

the beds. “Damon. Are youawake?”“If I said no, would you

leave me alone?” cameDamon'sreply,muffledinthepillows. Sasha wasn't fooled—hecouldn'tsleepeither.Nowonder, given how heavilythe weight of commandusually sat upon his

shoulders.“How is Sofy?” Sasha

asked him. “In all this fussabout Krayliss, I forgot toask.”“Like Sofy,” Damon

retorted.“Is she enjoying her

studies?” Sasha presseddeterminedly. Damon wasn'tgoing to get off that easily.“Sheseemedhappyinherlastletter, but I sometimeswonder if she tells me

everything.”“Sofy's always happy,”

Damonmuttered.As if therewere something vaguelyoffensive about that. “Sheasksaboutyoualot.”“Doesshe?”“Oh yes. Every time a

noble traveller arrives incourt, having passed withinscent ofValhanan, she neverfailstocornerhimandaskfornewsofyou.”Sasha smiled. “But she's

well?Her last letter spokeofAlythia's wedding. Sheseemedveryexcited.”“Not nearly as excited as

Alythia,” said Damon. Androlled onto his back,appearingtoabandonhopeofsleep,atleastforthemoment.“Butyes,Sofyishelpingwiththe preparations. Alythiascolds her, and tries to beupsetatherinterference…shewas unhappy with Sofy'ssuggestions for the ordering

of vows and ceremonies,thinking that she knows bestin everything. But of course,on reflection, she agreed thatSofy's ideas were best. Asalways.”For all Sasha's differences

with Damon, they shared acommon affection for theiryounger sister Sofy. It wasmostly thanks to Sofy'smediation that Damon andSasha had arrived at theirpresent truce. Sasha was yet

to be convinced of Sofy'sfaith in Damon, but she hadconceded that her previous,less flattering impressions ofhim had been wide of themark. But then, that wasSofy, always intervening,always drawing compromisefrom the most hardened ofopinions.“And the holy fathers are

pleased with the weddingpreparations?” Sasha asked,having heard a little of that

controversy.“It's ridiculous,” Damon

sighed. “Father Wynal nowproteststhatthearrangementsare not in full accordancewiththescripture,butAlythiaprotests that she wants atraditional Lenay weddinglike Marya and Petrynahad…”“Marya and Petryna's

weddings were anything buttraditional,”Sashasnorted.“Well, they had the fire

and the dancing with handpainting…”“That's hanei, Damon,”

Sashacorrected.“Andthefireis tempyr, the purifier, thedoorbetweenstatesofbeing.It symbolises a couple'stransition into married life,theathelyn,thedestructionofthe old, making way for thenew.It'sthefoundationoftheGoeren-yai view of theuniverse.”“Sounds serrin,” Damon

remarked, with less interestthanSashamighthavehoped.The ignorance of so manyVerenthanes toward the oldwaysdisgustedher.Theyhadbeen their ways too, ahundredyearsbefore.“Serrin and Goeren-yai

beliefhasmuchincommon,”Sasha agreed, keeping hertemper in check. Outburstsand lectures would serve nogoodpurpose,shetoldherselffirmly. “It's one reason the

Goeren-yai and serrin havehadsuchgoodrelationsforsolong.”“Anyhow,” Damon said

dismissively. “Alythia thinksit's pretty, and the handpainting—thehanei—is.Andso much more glamorousthan a traditionalVerenthanewedding.”“I'm glad I'm not the only

one who thinks so,” Sashasaid sourly. “Verenthaneshave to be the most morbid

bunch,Damon.Ihearinsomeparts of the Bacosh and therest of the lowlands, womenaren't evenallowed todance.Canyouimagine?”“I can't imagine,” Damon

admitted, frowning at theceiling. “But then, being aVerenthane means differentthings from one land toanother. Lenayinwill alwaysbeLenayin.ThatisonethingGoeren-yai and Verenthaneshallalwayshaveincommon

in this land. I think I shallalwayshavemoreincommonwithaLenayGoeren-yaithanwithalowlandsVerenthane.”“We'll see if you still

believe inLenaybrotherhoodshould you have themisfortune to encounterFamily Telgar on this ride,”Sashasaiddarkly.“Themen of the north are

brave,” Damon said shortly.“Iwon'tprejudgethem.”“It's not their bravery I

question,” said Sasha. “It'stheirhumanity.”Damon made an annoyed

face,lookingacrossthespacebetween their beds.“Seriously, Sasha, need youalways pick a fight? You ofall people who can afford itleast. I'm well aware whatyou think of the Verenthanenorth, you don't need to hurlitatmeateveryopportunity.Icanformmyownopinions.”Sasha bit her tongue with

difficulty. “And how isMyklas?” she asked,determinedtoprovetoherselfthat she could simply moveon and not spill blood uponthe floor. Kessligh would beproud.“Well,” said Damon, with

a note to his voice thatsuggested he too wassurprised at the ease of hisvictory. “He'll become a fineswordsman.He'sbetterthanIwas, at his age. Better than

Koenyg,maybe. It'scertainlynot from hard work. It mustbetalent.”“Some things can't be

taught,”saidSasha,puttingahand behind her head uponthe pillow. The air was coldupon her arm, whatever herundershirt and the fadingwarmth of the fire's embers.Butbeneaththeheavyweightof skins and blankets, thewarmthwasdelicious.Damon gave her a long,

curious glance, the fireplaceilluminating one half of hisface upon the pillows. “Iheard that you fought,” hesaid.“Lastsummer,whentheCherrovan pressed Hadrynhard. I heard tell of somestories.Deedsofyours.”“Alllies.”“The stories were greatly

in your favour,” Damonadded.“Then they were all true,”

Sasha corrected, with a faint

smile. The incursion hadbeen, for the most part, yetanother ridiculous waste ofCherrovan life. A newchieftain had required ablooding,thestorywent.Anda blooding he had received,mostofithisown.SurelytheCherrovan had not been sostupid during the centurieswhen theyhadruledLenayinand all the mountainkingdomsastheirown.“I had doubted your

abilities, once,” said Damon.“Evenwith Kessligh as youruman…I'd thought he'd onlychosen you for otherpurposes. But the menbearing these stories arehonest. It seems I wasmistaken.AndIapologise.”Sasha gazed across at him

with great surprise. Andsmiled.Sofyhad always toldher to try being nice toDamon, rather than arguingwith him all the time. Good

things will come of it, she'dinsisted. And once again, itseemed, her little sister wasright. “Apology accepted,”she said graciously. “You'renot the only man to makesuch a judgment. There arethousands who believe such,upinthenorth.”Damon snorted. Then,

“Has Kessligh told you ofyour standard? One storycame from a man who washimself amaster swordsman.

He said he'd never seenanythinglikeit.”Sashasighed.“Praise from

Kessligh is rare. He hatescomplacency.”“Can you best him

sparring?”“Sometimes. Maybe one

roundinthree.Moreongooddays, less on others.” ButDamon looked veryimpressed. Besting Kesslighatallwassaidtobeaworthyachievement. Most men

would have been happywithone round in ten. But then,for those who did not fightwith the svaalverd, itwas nofaircontest.“I still don't see how it's

possible,”Damonsaid,withafaintshakeofhishead.“Forawoman. I have bested threeCherrovan warriors incombat. Combat isexhausting, for the fittest,strongestmen.”Never“frightening,”Sasha

reflected. No Lenay manwould ever admit so. “Yes,but youwaste strength whenyou fight,” she told him.“Hathaal, serrin call it.There's no direct translationin Lenay…energy, perhaps.Ormaybealifeforce,thoughserrin have too many namesfor that to count. Asymmetry. A power derivedfrom form, not bulk. Thestraight, sturdy tree is morehathaalthanthecrookedone,

even if they are both as tall.You are stronger than me.But using svaalverd, I ammore hathaal. And youcannottouchme.”Damon snorted. “So

confident are you. We'veneversparred.”“Tomorrow, perhaps?”

Sashasaidmildly.“We ride first thing in the

morning.”“Convenient.”“Youknowmuchofserrin

lore,” Damon remarked,ignoringherbarbs.“Of course. I am Nasi-

Keth.”“Doyoulovetheserrin?”Sasha frowned. Footsteps

creaked in the corridoroutside, the last of therevellers coming upstairs totheir beds. The dying firemanagedonelast,feeblepop.“I've yet to meet a bad orunpleasant one,” she saidafteramoment.

“That doesn't answer myquestion.”And it was not, Sasha

knew, such an innocentquestion.Therewaswarafootbetween the Bacosh andneighbouring Saalshen.Visiting merchants fuelled awildfire of rumour, serrintravellers had been rare oflate, and Kessligh's moodgrim.Shedidn't like to thinkon it. There had been badnewsfromtheBacoshbefore

—for many, many centuries,in fact, one endlesssuccessionof terrible internalwarsoverpower,prestigeandmatters of faith. Those hadcome and gone. Surely theselatest rumblings wouldfollow.“Theserrinareagoodand

decentpeople,”sheanswered.“Muchoftheirlore,skillsandtrades has improved humanlives beyond measure, fromirrigation to building to

medicines and midwifery…sometimes Iwonder howweever managed without them.Anyonewhowouldmakewaron them will not gain mysympathy.”“Theyliveonlandsthatare

nottheirs,”Damonrespondedflatly. “Many includeVerenthane holy sites. SitesofthebirthofVerenthaneismitself. The Bacosh are theeldest and most powerful ofVerenthane peoples, they'll

notletthematterrest.”Sasharolled beneath her covers tofix her brother with analarmedgaze.“What have you heard?”

sheaskedaccusingly.Damonshrugged,hismoodsombre.“Thereismuchanger.Talk

of the Verenthanebrotherhood uniting to takebacktheholylands.”In all recent history, the

Bacosh had only been unitedonce. The man who

accomplished it, Leyvaan ofRhodaan, had named himselfking, and repaid the serrinwho'd assisted his rise withinvasion and slaughter. Theserrin response had beendevastating, crushingLeyvaan and his armies, andtaking the three nearestBacosh provinces forthemselves. That had beentwocenturiesago,andtoday,the so-called “SaalshenBacosh” remained in serrin

hands. Many in thepriesthood called those landsholy, andwanted them back,outoftheclutchesofgodless,paganserrin.“Such talk has existed

since Leyvaan the Foolcreatedthewholemessinthefirst place,” Sasha retorted.“The Saalshen Bacosh is ahappy place. The onlyunhappy people are thoseoutsiderswhoresentthatfact.Besides, there is no

Verenthane brotherhood. It'samyth.”“Even so,” Damon said

tiredly. “People talk, is all.Perhaps it will fade, I hopeso.Wehave enough troublesin Lenayin without lowlandsconcernsthrustuponusalso.”“Hear hear,” Sasha

murmured. But Kessligh'swords remained with her:“War is in the air. Us oldwarhorsescansmellit.”“You're not going to ask

after Father's well-beingalso?” Damon queried intothatsilence.“No,” said Sasha. And

tucked her warm, heavyblankets more firmly downabout her neck. “Father hasadvisorsenoughtoseetothatalready.”

JARYD NYVAR RODE at theheadof theFalconGuardsasthe road wound uphill fromBaerlyn, with Prince Damonat his left stirrup. Themorning dawned bright andclear across rugged hillsidesof thick forest and sparklingdew. Cold air nipped at his

cheeks, and the steamingbreath of horse and menmingledaboutthecolumn,sothat it moved along the roadlike some great, puffingbeast.Thelandinthesepartswas as beautiful as Jaryd'snative Tyree. Birds sang inthe trees,andon thewayoutof town, a pair of handsomedeer had startled across theroad.At the distance of perhaps

one fold from Baerlyn, they

encountered a pair of riderswaiting for themon the roadbeside a narrow trail throughthe trees. KesslighCronenverdt and his bratuman.That trail, then,wouldlead to their horse ranch inthe wilds. Prince Damonacknowledged them with awave, which both returned.They fell into line severalplaces further back, in plaincloaks to ward the morningchill, theirback-worn swords

invisible beneath those folds.An unremarkable and plain-looking pair, they seemed,amidst a column of Tyreegreen-and-gold, gleamingsilver helms and polishedboots. Unremarkable, thatwas, but for their horses—both stallions, one light bay,the girl's a charcoal black,andbothbeautifultobehold.It was a reminder of

Cronenverdt'spastservice,ofthe debt owed to him by the

king. Jaryd had heard themutterings of his father'smen, that Cronenverdt waslittlemorethanahiredswordwho had commanded fromthe king a steep ransom forhis services. Jaryd thought itsomewhat rich for wealthynobles to accuse Kessligh ofbeing a mercenaryconsidering the plainness ofthemanlivingouthereinthewilds with his uma.Cronenverdt could have

commanded a far larger sumand lived in agrandholding,with lands and gardens andprospectivewivesclamouringfor his hand. Instead, whenPrince Krystoff had met anunfortunate end, he'd left theking's service and asked fornothing more than a grief-stricken, impossible brat of aprincess to replace the umahe'dlost,andsomehorses.Jaryd thought it far more

likely thathis fellownobility

were jealous of the man,partly for hisaccomplishments, and partlyfor the way in which heshowed up their expensivetastes. It was surely notunreasonable thatamanwhohad freelygiven his services,insteadofbeingbornintotheobligation of service, shouldreceive some gift in return?How to criticise such aman,whodidnotplaybytherulesthat others understood? No

wonder he made so manyenemies amongst the rulingclasses.After a while riding along

the forested hillside, PrinceDamon fell back in thecolumntotalkwithKessligh.Lieutenant Reynan took hisplaceatJaryd'sside.“The brat was up before

dawn,” said the lieutenant,rubbing sleepy eyes beneathhis helm. “I'd thought tofollow her, but that horse of

hersisfastanddoesn'tmindanight-time torch. Mine getsallflightynearaflame.”Jaryd frowned at him.

LieutenantReynanPelynwasthe brother of Lord TymethPelyn, head of one of thetwenty-threenoblefamiliesofTyree, and close allies ofFamilyNyvar. Hewas a bigman,witharoundhead,smalleyes,andabarelydiscerniblechin.Hehadnot servedwiththeFalconGuardsforlong—

barely a year, in fact, just ashort time longer than Jarydhad been in command. Jaryddid not think that the menwereparticularlyfondofhim.“You'd follow her to her

home?”Jarydasked.Hekepthis voice low, and therewaslittle chance of anyoneoverhearing above the stampof hooves and janglingharnesses.Reynan shrugged. “Lord

Tymeth told me to keep a

close watch on her at alltimes. I'm keeping a closewatch.”“So much effort for one

girl,” Jaryd mused. “Onemight think your brotheractuallybelievesthetalestheGoeren-yai tell about herswordwork.”“It's not her sword that's

the bother,” Reynan saiddarkly. “That little bitchcauses enough trouble withtheGoeren-yai as is, and the

king's gone too teary-eyedsince Prince Krystoff's deathtodoanythingaboutit.”“Do about it?” said Jaryd.

“Lieutenant, who saidanything about doingsomethingaboutit?”“My Lord brother said to

keep a close eye on her,”Reynansaidstubbornly,“andthat'swhat I'lldo.Makesureshe doesn't cause anytrouble.”“She's just a girl,” Jaryd

said shortly. “How muchtrouble can she cause?” Andwhy,he thought,be somuchmore worried about her thanabout Cronenverdt?Cronenverdt held the realpower, surely. The brat wasjust a distraction. Adistraction for Cronenverdthimself, some said, in ameaningfulway.Aplaythingfor a man who'd developedstrange tastes in sword-wielding women while

amongst the serrin andNasi-Keth of Petrodor. Someclaimed he wished to sire asonfromher,whomightthenclaim the throne. Surely thenobles of Tyree did notbelievesuchnonsense?Therewere so many before her inthe line of succession, afterall…Reynan gave his

commander one of thoseweary, superior, adult looksthat Jaryd disliked so much.

“Never you mind, MasterJaryd,” he said tiredly. “Youjustconcernyourselfwiththeroad ahead, and leave theother business to me. Justremember to call on me ifyou need any advice—you'rea fine warrior, Master, butolder heads have ridden thisroadbefore.”“I have plenty of advice

from Captain Tyrun,” Jarydreplied,annoyedby theolderman's patronising tone. “He's

ridden these roads far moreoftenthanyou.”Reynan's face hardened.

“Master Jaryd,” he said in alow,harshvoice,“thatmanisnot noble born. He's apeasant, little better than apagan…”“Captain Tyrun is a true

Verenthane and a veteranwarrior!” Jaryd retorted inrising temper. “He rose fromlowly status because he wasthebest,as is the tradition in

the Guard! Do you questionthat tradition, LieutenantReynan?”Reynan's jaw clenched. So

thatwasthesorespot,andthereason why the other mendisliked him. A lieutenant,after just one year. True,Jarydwasincommandafterashorter period, but he washeirtoallTyree,andmadenobones that Captain Tyrunremainedintruecommand.“No,” Reynan bit out. “I

wouldmerely advise,MasterJaryd, that you give someseriousthoughttowhereyourfuture interests lie, foryourselfandforTyree.”

It was midday before thecolumn took its first rest, themen dismounting upon abroad, open shoulder of theRyshaardRiver.KesslighandSasha found a large rock in

the rivershallowsandspreadouttheirfood,whilstPegandTerjellyn remained on theshore with a handler. Horsessplashed in the shallowsnearby, drinking deep, andmengatheredtosharerations.Acrossthewide,wildbend

of river, cliffs rose near-vertical in a broken, granitewall. Atop the cliff, treeslined the high ridge. Abovethose,aneaglecircled.Sashashaded her eyes against the

bright sun as she ate, gazingupward.“Oh look!” she exclaimed.

“That's a silvertip. She musthave a nest up theresomewhere. There must begoodfishingintheriver.”“How do you know it's a

she?”“I don't. But Lenay men

have this silly habit ofassuming every dangerousanimal is a he, when in factthe females are usuallymore

dangerous.”High above, the eagle

cried. Across the riverbank,men were gazing skyward,andpointing.Goeren-yaimenin particular had a love ofwildthings,andbirdsofpreyhad a special place in theirhearts. “Do silvertip eagleshave a legend to go withthem?”Kesslighaskedwryly.Sasha frowned as she

thoughtaboutit,watchingtheeagle's circling flight. “Not

that I can recall. Although itis said that a white-headedeagleswoopeddowntocarryHyathon the Warrior awayfrom the fire mountain toescape the dark spirits. Butwhite-headedeaglesaremuchbiggerthansilvertips.”“All nonsense,” Kessligh

pronounced, and took a biteofhisroll.“Why?” Sasha demanded.

“Just because it's not whatyoubelieve?”

“Sasha,” Kessligh saidaroundhismouthful,“ifyou'dseenasmanypeoplekilledasI have, all because one ofthem believes this thing andthe other believes this otherthing, you wouldn't think itwas all so harmless. Talesand legends are fun, butbeliefs, Sasha. Beliefs aredangerous. Be very carefulwhat you believe in, forbeliefs are far moredangerousthanswords.”

“And you believe in theNasi-Keth,” Sasha retorted.“That makes you just asdangerous and misguided,doesn'tit?”Kessligh nodded,

vigorously. “Aye. But theNasi-Kethtaketheirlearningsfromtheserrin,andtheserrinsimply don't think like us.They don't believe in truth.They don't believe inanythingtheycan'tprove,andthey won't construct these

elaborate fantasies withwhich to advance their ownpower and kill each other.That's thewhole point of theNasi-Keth, Sasha—it's anattempt to help humans tothink rationally. And that'sdifficult, I know, becausehumans are fundamentallyirrational.Butit'sworthatry,don'tyouthink?”“Hmmph,” said Sasha,

chewing her own mouthful.“What'srational?”

“Exactly the question theserrin ask each otherconstantly.”“And what's irrational

about the Goeren-yaibeliefs?” Sasha continued.“It's rational, surely, thatpeoplesurviveaswellastheycan? Goeren-yai legends tellus much about these lands,andtheanimals,andthewayspeople can live and survivewell out here.And the serrinhave come here for centuries

—they find Goeren-yaiculture fascinating! So whyshould you, who takes hisinspirationfromtheserrin,besodismissive?”“I'm not dismissive of the

process, Sasha, just theconclusions.I'mdismissiveofany culture that thinks itknowseverything.”“TheGoeren-yaidon't…!”Kesslighcutheroffwitha

raised hand. “I'm dismissiveofanypersonwholiveshisor

her life like a frog down awell—all it knows is thatwell,andthosewalls,withnointerest in what lies outside.I'mtryingtomakeyouthink,Sasha. That's all I've evertried to do. That's all theNasi-Keth as a whole haveever tried to do. To makepeople think before theycommit some terrible evil inthe name of their varioustruths, if it is at all possiblethattheymightbewrong.”

“Aye,”Sashareplied,“wellmaybe that's the differencebetween me and you. Youlead with your head, I leadwithmyheart.”“Hearts can be rational

too,” said Kessligh. “Theyjust need a little training.”Sashaknewbetter thantotryand get the last word in.“How was Damon lastnight?” he asked then,changingthesubject.“Nervous,” she said. “He

slept a while, I think. Histemper's short, but that'snormal. Best not to pushhim.”“With any luck, he won't

make me. He's second fromthe throne, in truth. It's besthe learned to dealwith thesekindsofthingsonhisown.”Sasha stifled a laugh

behind her hand. “Damon.King!” She swallowed amouthful,shakingherheadindisbelief.“Ican'timagineit.”

“Men have similardifficultypicturingyouasmyuma,” Kessligh replied,unmovedbyherhumour.Hiseyes flicked toward theriverbank. Sasha looked, andsaw Master Jaryd Nyvartalking animatedly with acorporal. Their conversationwas about swordplay by thelookoftheirmovinghands.Sasha snorted. “Only

because those men havenever thought women good

for anything but babies andhousework.”“What'swrongwithbabies

and housework?” Kesslighsaidwithafaintsmile.Sasha shrugged

expansively. It was pointlessto get annoyed. Kesslighsimply liked contradictingher.Kessligh swallowed his

mouthful. “Before I came toLenayin, I hadn't thoughtwomen good for much but

babiesandhousework.”Sashafrownedathim.“Oh

come on! There are serrineverywhere in Petrodor!What about all of thesewonderful serrin women youkeep talking about, the onesyou studied with as a Nasi-Kethumayourself?”“Serrin women, exactly,”

saidKessligh around anotherbite. “Petrodor has a veryconservative branch ofVerenthane belief where

women are concerned. Mymother died when I wasyoung and from then on theNasi-Kethweremy family. Isawmany serrinwomen, butthe human women I knewwere very fixed in theirnotionofwhat a realwomanwas. Even when I rode toLenayin for the war, I didn'tsee Lenay women as muchdifferent.It'sonlywhenImetyouthatItrulyrealisedthatahumanwomanmightbeborn

with the aptitude to be myuma.”Sasha smiled. “Well at

least I know what kind ofbehaviourimpressesthegreatKessligh Cronenverdt—brattish,noisyandoveractive.Icouldrevert,ifyoulike?”“Revert?” Kessligh asked

in mock surprise. Sashakickedhimlightlyonhisbootand scowled. “My point,”Kessligh continued, “is thatpeopleneverknowwhatthey

shall be, and how they shallrespond, until themoment oftesting arrives. I can assureyouthatveryfewofmyNasi-Keth elders and peerssuspected that I could rise tosuch heights from mybeginnings. As a student Iwas quiet, uncooperative andsolitary. I loved serrinteachings because theyseemedtometoofferthebestsolution I'd yet seen to allhumanity'sobviousills.

“But I was alwaysfrustrated that neither myuman nor my other tutorsseemed to grasp theimplications of thoseteachings fully. And so Ienjoyed the company of theserrin more than humans.Serrin never judge. Throughthem I learned to see theworldasitis,andmyselfasIam, rather thanwhat Imightwant or expect them both tobe. Which is how I

recognisedyourtalents,whileother men would not. Irealised I was wrong abouthuman women. Many mencannot admit this aboutthemselves.“Alwaysbeawarethatyou

maybewrong,Sasha—aboutanything and everything. Irose to Commander ofArmiesduringtheGreatWarsimply because I learnedfrom my mistakes, and themistakesofothers, andwhen

something did not work, Istopped doing it and didsomething else. Manycommanders did not, due topride or stubbornness, andkilled not only themselves,butmany goodmen as well.The unquestioned belief inone's own supremacy andrighteousness is the surestroad to ruin yet devised byman.Avoiditatallcosts.”Sasha listened sombrely,

chewing the lastofher lunch

as the river bubbled abouttheir rock. Kessligh did notlectureoften,yetshewasnotsurprised that he chose to doso now. A Hadryn–Tanerynconflict was surely the mostserious calamity she had yetridden into. An uman's rolewas to teach, and to preparehisumafortrialstocome.“Why have the Nasi-Keth

not spread more throughLenayin?” Sasha askedsuddenly. “I mean…you led

Lenayin to victory overChieftain Markield, youriskedyourlifeandbecameaLenay legend—all becauseyou volunteered to comefromPetrodor.Thepopularityof the Nasi-Keth and theserrin was surely never sohighinLenayinas then.Andyet there are so few otherNasi-Kethhere.”Kesslighnoddedslowly,as

if faintly surprised at thequestion. “Your father tried,”

he said. “He believes inprovidence, insignsfromthegods. When Markield wasbeaten, your father saw thatthe gods favoured the Nasi-Keth, and thus surely theyfavoured the teachings ofSaalshen. That was a timewhen the king was leastpersuaded by the northernfanatics, since the north hadfailed to defeat the invasionwithouthelpasthey'dinsistedtheywould,andhadprotested

my ascension to commanderat every turn. Trade withSaalshen improveddramatically, and manysenior serrin were invited tovisit the capital. And, ofcourse, he declared thatKrystoff would be my uma,binding the kingdom and theNasi-Keth inextricablytogether.“But the response of the

Verenthanes was not good,especially in the north. And

precious fewNasi-Keth fromPetrodorhavefelt inspired tofollowme to the highlands.”He shrugged. “Perhaps itwould have been differenthad Krystoff lived. ThenLenayin would have had aking both Verenthane andNasi-Keth,asare somany inPetrodor.”“Andwe have the Hadryn

to thank that it didn'thappen,”Sashamuttered.Kessligh fixed her with a

hard stare. “Sasha. Whathappened to Krystoff is oldhistory.Ithurtmeasmuchasit hurt you. But we're ridinginto this mess now on theking's business, and the kingmustbeimpartial.Ifyoufeelthat will be a problem foryou, best that you tell menow.”“They killed him,” Sasha

said darkly. “Not by theirownhands,butnearly.”“I know,” said Kessligh.

“Itchangesnothing.”“And who are you to be

accusing me of partisanloyalties?” Sasha retorted.“SaalshenislosingcreditfastwithFather,anddoubtlesstheNasi-Keth with them. Andnow you come on this rideclaiming to act in Father'sinterests?”“I have always been your

father's servant,” Kesslighsaidflatly.“I'vefoughtinhisservice since I rode to

Lenayinthirtyyearsago.”“And should Father act

against the Nasi-Keth?”Sasha persisted. “Whatthen?”“Then,” said Kessligh, “I

shallcrossthatbridgewhenIcometoit.”

CAMPFIRES LIT SMALL

CIRCLESOFLIGHTintheforest,aleapingdanceoftreetrunksand long, flickeringshadows.Men gathered about theirfiresandcooked,whileotherstended to horses, or mendedworn gear. There was cloudoverhead, the wind was

gentle from the south, andSasha knew it would notgrowsocoldtonight.Butshemissedthestars,heronegreatconsolation for nights upontheroad.“ThereisdisputeoverLord

Krayliss's ancestry,” Damonsaid as the regal party ate.Sasha wolfed her meal withher usual appetite—roastedmeat on skewers, and avegetable raal Kessligh hadwhipped up. Damon,

however, seemed to pick athis food. “I've heard itclaimed thathe'snotactuallyUdalynatall.”To Sasha's surprise, he

looked directly at her. As ifshe, above all others present,would be likely to know.Well, perhaps she would.“His grandmother,” shemanaged about a hotmouthful, seated upon hersaddle with a tin platebalanced in her lap. “So it's

said. But the maternalgrandmother, not thepaternal.”Damon frowned. “That's

important?”“In the old ways, power

passes through the paternalline.Amaternalgrandmotheris the weakest claim toancestry.Butthen,somehaveaccused Krayliss ofoverstatement.” To her left,Captain Tyrun repressed ahumourless laugh. From

acrossthefire,Jarydfrownedatherabovetheflames.“How important is it?”

Damonaskedbluntly.“TobeUdalyn?”“For Krayliss?” Sasha

raised her eyebrows. “Very.Spirits know he gainsprecious little credit amongtheGoeren-yaifromanythingelse.”“To claim ancestry to the

chieftainofadyingclanwhowereonce in leaguewith the

Cherrovan?” Damon lookeddubious.Sasha could not resist a

glancearoundtoseewhoelsemight overhear. But theneighbouring fireplaceconversations were toodistant,andtoojovial,forthattobe likely. “People in theseparts see it differently,” shesaidwarningly.Damon made a dismissive

gesture.“I'llneverunderstandit,” he said darkly. “This

obsession with the Udalyn.They'vebarelyemergedfromtheir valley for a century,have been little good toanyone, yet Goeren-yai thelengthandbreadthofLenayinworshiptheirname.”Hetookareluctantbiteofhismeat.Sasha glanced atKessligh,

seated to her right.He gazedintotheflamesasheate.Hiseyeswereunfocused,asifhesaw the ghosts of pastmemories dancing amongst

the coals. “Best perhaps thatyou tell your brother thatstory,”hesaidthen,distantly.“We ride squarely into thismatter, much unresolved.Bestthatheunderstands.”Sasha nodded. “I agree.

But I think one here mighttell it better than I.” Shelooked across to CaptainTyrun.Tyrun looked surprised.

“Me, M'Lady? I'mVerenthane, I claim no great

wisdomhere.”“Today at the talleryn

stonesofSpearman'sRidge,”Sasha said, “you showedrespect for the dead. Yourodetowardthesun,soasnottocastyourshadowupontheroadside stones. And yougave the spirit sign.” Tyrunnodded slowly, with newrespect in his eyes. “Thetolerance of TyreeVerenthanesiswellknown.”“Aye, M'Lady,” said

Tyrun, nodding slowly. “Imight know a little. Men ofTyree sit often and speak ofhonour andwar.To speakofsuchmatterswithGoeren-yaianywhere is to speak of theUdalyn.”Damon, Sasha thought,

lookedalittleuncomfortable.Well that he should, shethought sourly. To displaysuch ignorance was to admitthat he had never sat andtalked with Goeren-yai

warriors before.Somuch forthe high esteem of FamilyLenayinfortheancientways.“Prior to the Liberation,”

Tyrunbegan,“thereweretwoclansdominatingtheprovincethat is now Hadryn. TheUdalynoccupiedtheeast,andthe Hadryn the west. Theywere similar, yet differentenoughtoprovokeahostilitymany centuries old.Intermarriage between thetwo was punished by the

death of both parents andoffspring. The bloodlineswere kept pure. Northernershave always believed inpurity—once as Goeren-yai,andnowasVerenthanes.“Understand, my Prince,

that the north was once thebedrockofGoeren-yaibelief.Many of the great Lenayheroes of old were from thenorth,menofasteelforgedinbattles against the eternalCherrovan foe, between rival

clans, and with the harshterrainandclimate.But the Cherrovan

warlords were strong, oftendestroying entire Lenayvillages. Tharyn Askar, thegreat Udalyn Chieftain,compromised with theCherrovan in his lands, sothat his people could growhealthy and strong, and notdrained by constant minoruprisings and reprisals. Hedesired liberation from the

Cherrovanalso,butknewthatthe Udalyn had not yet thestrength.“Hemightnothavehad to

compromise if the Hadrynhadn't remained moreinterested in waging war onthe Udalyn than theCherrovan,” Sasha added,sipping water from her tincup.“AsmentellthestoryinBaerlyn, Tharyn tried to joinwith the Hadryn against theCherrovanandsenthissonas

a symbol of trust to theHadryn chieftain EssynTelgar,who'sreputedtohavebeen just as thickheaded asthe present line of Telgars.Essyn had him tortured anddisembowelled alive. TheHadryn claim to have beenkeyinunitingLenayinduringthe Liberation, yet in truth,they prevented its arrival forgenerations.”“Aye,” said Tyrun. “They

tell it much the same in

Tyree.Anyhow,myPrince…therehadbeenaprophecyforgenerations in the north. ItwassaidthatagreatleaderofLenayinwould ride from thesouth, bearing supernaturalpowers, andwould smite theCherrovan from the face ofthe world. When SorosLenayinarrivedattheheadofhis armyof freeLenay clansand lowlands crusaders…”here he glanced at Kessligh,who snorted, “the north

joined his cause in force,forgottheirpettydisputesandrallied beneath the star ofVerenthane.“The Udalyn fought

valiantly, yet Essyn Telgarwas clever. He decreed thatalltheHadrynshouldconvertto Verenthaneism, as didmost of the north, as theybelievedtheVerenthanegodshad fulfilled their prophecyand were just and true. Butthe Udalyn, having the deep

rootsoftheirhomelandvalleyto sustain their traditionsthrough even the hardesttimes,refused.SorosLenayinrewarded Essyn Telgar withLordship of all Hadryn, andasked that the Udalyn swearfealtytohim.Tharynrefused,for his people would neverhavelistenedhadheagreed.“What followed was a

slaughter.” Tyrun paused fora moment, gazing into theflames. About the blazing

fire, none spoke. From aneighbouring fire, men'slaughter carried high on thecool night air. “The unitedVerenthanes of the north fellupon the Udalyn, for Essynpoisoned themindsofall thenorth against them, callingthem traitors, friends of theCherrovanandenemiesofthenew light of salvation. Therewere no prisoners taken, norofferedconversionsaccepted.There was only murder—of

men, women and children. Iam a proud Verenthane, myPrince. I believe that the starof Verenthane has been ablessing of unity and peaceupon this land.But truly, thefateof theUdalyn, I believe,was surely Verenthane'sdarkesthour.”Damon met the captain's

sombre gaze across the fire.Sasha could read hisexpressionwellenoughtoseethat he had not heard this

history told with suchconfidence by a Verenthaneman. Most Verenthanesdenied the accusations ofHadryn atrocities against theUdalyn,andmanyblamedtheUdalyn for bringing theirdeclineuponthemselves.“Finally,allthatwasleftof

the Udalyn was theirancestral valley,” Tyruncontinued. “Here,versionsofthestorydiffer.SomesaythatKing Soros intervened and

gave the Udalyn one lastchance to convert, or faceannihilation. Others say thathe did nothing. Yet othersdefend King Soros, sayingthat his armywasweary andhehadnotyet beencrownedking, so he had no meanswith which to stop theslaughter. But whatever thetruth, the Udalyn did notconvert, and the unitedVerenthane north pressed theattackintothevalley.

“The Udalyn wereoutnumbered twenty to one,atbest.Butwithinthevalley'snarrow confines, theirdefences gained hope. Overmany days and nights, theUdalyn made a fightingretreat up the length of theirvalley,andtheirenemiespaida high price for every strideadvanced.Finally,themoraleof the Verenthane northbegan to wane, for theUdalyn slew five and more

attackers for every loss, sogreat was their desire tosurvive as a people and passon their traditions to thenextgeneration.“Essyn Telgar saw his

glorious victory slippingaway, as his men refused toadvance further.He rode outbeforetheUdalynandofferedthat they could convert toVerenthaneismandsavetheirlives. In reply, the Udalyncharged, full of fury and

vengeance.Theycrashedintoan army that was still tentimes their number and splitthemdownthecentre.TharynAskar himself, it is told,carvedhiswaythroughtenofEssyn's personal guard andfamily to slay Essyn Telgarby his own hand, beforefalling dead from wounds.The remaining Verenthanesbroke and ran, and theUdalyn survived—the last,small pocket of Goeren-yai

defianceinaVerenthanesea.“Several timesintheyears

tofollow,successiveLordsofHadrynattempted to rid theirland of their ancient enemy.Each time, though greatlyoutnumbered, the Udalynwere victorious. ThenChaydenLenayincametothethrone—your esteemedgrandfather, Prince Damon,M'Lady Sashandra. He sawhow the fate of the Udalynhad aroused the passions of

all Lenay Goeren-yai, andforbid the Telgars ofHadrynto attack the Udalyn again.Since that time, the Hadrynhave left the Valley of theUdalyn largely alone underKing's orders—a policycontinuedtothisdaybyyourfather, my Prince, M'Lady.AndIpraythatitshallalwaysbesuch.”Sasha took a skewer of

cookingmeatfromthefirebyitswoodhandleandgaveitto

Tyrun—rewardforatalewelltold. Tyrun gave a smallsmileofthanks.“And now Lord Krayliss

attempts to play the Udalyncard once more,” Damonsaid.His own food remainedlargely untouched upon hisplate. “Why? What is togain?”“The Udalyn are the one

issue,” Sasha replied, “theone singular thing, uponwhich all Goeren-yai can

agree.Theyareheroes.Theyare the very symbol ofGoeren-yai pride, courageand thewill to survive in theface of advancing foreignreligions. Krayliss claims torepresent the old ways, andtheUdalynflythatbannerfarbetter than he.He dreams ofan age long past, before thecomingofVerenthanes,whenLenayinwaswildandfree.”“And a bloody, barbarian

rabble,” said Kessligh, with

his usual diplomacy. Sashaknew well enough whatKessligh thought of suchromanticism…andofherownundeniableattractiontoit.She shrugged, toowise by

now to respondwith temper.“Aye,” she said. “Kraylisswould bring back those daysifhecould, thegoodand thebad.ButmostGoeren-yaiaretoo smart for that. Lowlandstradeisprosperousandmanyhave benefited. So long as

Baen-Tardoesnotattempt toconvert them by force orcoercion, they care not if thetowns all pray to lowlandsgods.And soKrayliss growsdesperate. He needs theUdalyn. He is the lastremaining Goeren-yai lord—although he would stylehimself as chieftain—and heclaims blood ties to TharynAskarhimself.OnsuchcreditdoesheasktheGoeren-yaiofallLenayintolovehim.”

“Andnowtherecomestalkof lowlands war,” saidKessligh.Therewasanotetohisvoice,andhisexpression,that Sasha did not like. Itsuggested a certainexasperation. A dark,brooding disgust. Well…shewas disgusted too, by foolslike the Rashyds andKraylisses alike. Yet shedoubted if thatwere theonlytarget of Kessligh's distaste.“To reclaimVerenthane holy

lands in theBacosh, no less.As well invade the moon toreclaim its silver. Bacosh,Torovan, it's all lowlands—Verenthane—and a worldaway. Folks here aren'tinterested. And Kraylissseeksanadvantage.”Damon seemed about to

reply, but Sasha cut him off.“It's worse than that,” shesaid with force, somewhatannoyed with her uman foroversimplifying. “Don't you

see?Kraylissseekstoturntheentire province of Taneryndown the path of theUdalynbefore them. He's killed theGreat Lord of Hadryn, thatmuch seems clear. Just asTharyn Askar, his ancestor,killedEssynTelgaracenturybefore. He tries to relive oldGoeren-yaiglories.”“Taneryn is a province

unto itself,” Damon replied,frowning.“TheValleyof theUdalyn is entirely within the

borders of Hadryn province.Few from outside have evenmetoneoftheUdalyn.”Sashashrugged.“Thatonly

makes the Udalyn legendgrow stronger. Damon,Hadryn is powerful. All thenorthern Verenthaneprovincesare.EndlessbattlesagainstCherrovanincursions,and favourable taxation fromBaen-Tar, have made themso. Few other provinces canmatchthemforsheerforceof

arms, leastofallquiet, rusticTaneryn. Most Tanerynsknow this. For all theirbravery, they're not stupid.Theywon'tfollowKraylisstopointless suicide against thearmoured cavalry of thenorth, all for naught but thegreater glory of Kraylisshimself.TheyseeKraylissforwhathe is—avain,pompousfool,whooffersthemnothingbut rhetoric, poverty and anearlygrave.

“But that does not meanthey will like father'slowlandswaranybetter.Andit does not mean they willlikehavingKrayliss removedand a friendly, Verenthanelord appointed by Baen-Tar.Krayliss is a fool, but he isthe only Goeren-yai greatlord. A people can becomedesperate,feelingthatnoonelistens to their concerns; thatthere are none to representtheminthehallsofpower.If

Kraylissgainsmartyrdom,hecould be farmore popular indeath than he ever managedinlife.”Damongazed into thefire,

considering that. To her left,SashasawthatCaptainTyrunwas considering her withnarrowed eyes. Studying her,as if measuring her forsomething. She found itstrangely disconcerting andreturned tentativeattention toher food. Jaryd said nothing.

Heseemed little interested inany matter that did notinvolvetournamentsorgossipandofferednoopinions.“Thank you,” Damon said

then. “To both of you.”LookingatSasha,andthenatTyrun.“Ishallthinkonthis.”Kesslighstabbedatthefire

once more, raising anothercloud of swirling sparks.Hisexpression boded nothinggood.

The following morning, thecolumn passed a simplemarker indicating the borderbetween Valhanan andTaneryn.Themorningwasanovercast grey, and a coldwind accompanied the cloudmovinginfromtheeast.Theroadcrestedanewridge,everhigher than the last, andSasha gained her first clearview of the Marashyn

Ranges, spreading their dark,jagged line across therumpled horizon from northtonortheast.The land swelled more

steeply here than inValhanan, with great,dramatic thrusts of hillsides,crowned with sharp ridges,and broken with eruptingoutcropsofdarkstone.The road to Garallyn, the

Taneryn capital, was eerilyfree of travellers.

Occasionally at a clearing inthetreestherewouldappearawooden farmhouse, crossedby fences of wood or stone.But therewas no sign of theoccupants and all windowsand doors remained tightlyshut. Returning scoutsreported no sign of activityanywhere…until one mancame galloping breathlesslyalong the road and reportedthe horror that had befallenPerys.

The column made goodtime then, leaving the roadfor a horsetrail along anundulating, forested hillside.SasharodeatKessligh's rear,heart thumping unpleasantly,in amanner that had little todo with exertion. Perys wasthe southern-most Taneryntown bordering Hadryn.ThereweremenofHadrynonthe border who had claimedtheselandsforcenturies.Andnow, it seemed that old

dispute had been consumedbysomethinggreater.The horsetrail climbed for

some considerable distance,affording the occasionalglimpse of valleys and vasthillsides through the trees.Then the ground becamelevel and the trees abruptlyceased, the entire columnemerging upon the fringe oftraditional Perys farmland.The fields lay wide on anopen hillside as the column

descendeda road thatwoundbetween stone paddockwallsand small barns. Gates werebroken open and livestockroamed free along paths.Smoke rose from thesmouldering ruins of severalfarmhouses.Sasha stared at the nearest

pile of ashen debris and sawhoof marks where brownearth tore through the lushgreen grass. Horsemen haddonethis.

Sasha tore her gaze away,allowing Peg an easy rein asshe stared downslope. She'dtravelled to Taneryn before,butnevertoPerys,soclosetothe Hadryn border. It shouldhave been beautiful—theopen hillside was vast,divided into lush pasture,dotted with farmsteads andorchard groves, and roamedby livestock. Below, thehillside narrowed to form along, shoulder ridge with a

lovely collection of rustic,wooden buildings—Perysvillage—occupyingtheuphillhalf of the shoulder. Beyondthat ridge lay a steep gorgewith forested slopes, ruggedandbeautiful.There was smoke rising

from the village, black andsinister.Itscarredtheview,asingle, dark smudge towardthe west, and Hadryn. Now,asthetrailclearedanorchard,a new hillside presented a

scene that chilled Sasha'sheart.Scattered across a

neighbouring field weremotionless shapes on thegrass. Many carcasses, theirblood staining the grass.Sheep,sherealisedwithreliefas the column thunderedcloser, the forward guarddisplaying the royal bannersand the banner of Tyree forall to see.SuddenlyKesslighwas pointing off to the left,

where something dartedbehind one low wall, menacross the column pullingswordsorreadyingcrossbowsupon their saddle horns.Andthen something else becamevisible behind the nearpaddockwallthathadDamonraisingaglovedfistintheairandCaptainTyrunyellingforahalt.They reined up, as the cry

andsignalpassedbackalongthe line of horsemen, horses

tossing and snortingimpatiently as one of theforward guard dismounted,weapondrawn, and ran for alook at the bundled ragsmostly hidden behind thetrailside wall. Whatever hesaw caused him to raise onehand and make theVerenthaneholygestureuponthroat, heart and lips.Impatient, and trusting Peg'sabilities, Sasha urged himinto a little jump across a

runoff trench, and onto theledge alongside the stonewall.Lyinginarowuponthefar

side were ten corpses,bloodied and broken. Men,mostly, Sasha saw past thehorror. Several looked veryyoung.Andatleasttwo,uponcloserinspection,appearedtobe women. Sasha stared, asPeg fretted and fought at thereins, smelling blood andknowing what might likely

follow. Kessligh swung offTerjellyn's back, leaving hishalter in the care of CaptainTyrun, and jogged across tolook, gesturing irritably atSashatoclearherbeastawayfromthewall.She did so, and suddenly

therewere cries from behindthe wall of an adjoiningpaddock—villagers wereemerging,wrapped in raggedcloaks and shawls. They hadseen the banners and were

crying for the king. Mostappeared to be women, withsome children in tow,grieving and wretched.Amidst theforeignsoundsoflocal Taasti, the wails andtears, Sasha heard the onlywords from the locals thatmattered—“Telgar,”“Hadryn”and“Verenthane.”Sasha caught a glimpse of

Master Jaryd's expression,hardwithdisbelief,mutteringsomething now to Captain

Tyrun. Jaryd couldn't believeVerenthanes had done this.For a brief moment, shealmostfeltsorryforhim.Kessligh stood atop the

stone wall by the bodies,looking down at thegruesome wounds, thenglancing about thesurrounding farmland. Eyesnarrowed, as if piecingtogether the previous day'sevents in his mind. Then hegazed down toward the little

town of Perys below, asvillage folk wailed andsobbedabouthisfeet.Oneof thewomennoticed

him and stared upward withwide, tear-streaked eyes. Shegasped and exclaimedsomething in loud, franticTaasti. Others camecrowding, some exclaiming,othersfallingtoakneebeforethe vanquisher of theCherrovan.“Lenay!” Kessligh

demanded. “Who speaksLenay?”Anoldmancameforward,

hisfacehiddeninbedraggledbeard, hunched shoulderswrapped in a shawl. Haltingconversation followed,punctuated withgesticulations and pointing.Several villagers clusteredaboutSashaasshesatastride,onework-wornwomantryingtotouchherboot,murmuringsomething Sasha couldn't

understand.Damon came alongside,

watching with a concernedfrown. “What do they say?”heasked,noddingattheothervillagers.“I don't speak Taasti,”

Sasha said shortly, strainingher ears to overhearKessligh's conversation. Shedidnotwish to lookdownatthewomanbyherboot,headwrapped in a scarf, her eyeslined with hard work, age,

andmorefearsthananycity-bred nobility could possiblyunderstand. Such reverencemadeheruncomfortable.“I heard mention of the

‘Great Spirit’,” Damonpressed, his eyes nowsuspicious.“Whatisthat?”Sasha shot him a look of

disbelief. Damon understoodsomeTaasti?“Kesslighsavedthese people from theCherrovan thirty years ago,”she replied. “The legend of

theGreatSpiritchangesfromregion to region, but it'scommon among all Goeren-yai. People here think theGreat Spirit was Kessligh'sspiritguide.SomepeoplecallittheSynnich.”“Andwhat doyou think?”

Damonaskedpointedly.“Ithinkit'sanicelegend,”

Sasha said blandly, tired offeelingasthoughshewereontrialallthetime.“You don't believe in the

spirits?”“Ididn'tsaythat.”“You only know that you

don'tbelieveinthegods?”“I said I don't follow

them,” Sasha replied with adark, sideways look.“WhetherIbelieveinthemisirrelevant.”“Nottofatheritisn't.”“Aye,” Sasha muttered,

“wellhe'snothere,ishe?”Kessligh jumped from the

wallandswungbackintohis

saddle. “Hadryndid this,”hesaid to Damon withoutpreamble.“They'restillinthetown.Theydon'tappeartobeexpecting trouble from thisdirection,doubtlesstheyhavethe northward approachescovered. I advise we makethempayfortheoversight.”Damon swore beneath his

breath, staring away acrossthe rolling, descendinghillside, as if searching forinspiration. Villagers

crowded about Terjellyn,somesobbing,somepleading.Others approached Peg,Sasha keeping him steadywith a shortened length ofrein as he started and tossedhisheadnervously.“I'llvouchwithyourfather

for the necessity,” saidKessligh,histonehard.Damon gave him a hard

look.“I'mnotconcernedwiththat!”Withenoughtempertoassure Sasha that he truly

meant it. “But it will beVerenthanes attackingVerenthanes. There will berepercussions.”“This is a land grab,”

Kessligh said firmly. “It'sagainst the king's law. IfHadryn nobility have aproblem with Tanerynnobility, it should remainlimited to that. This isopportunism—murder—andillegal by your father's owndecree. It doesn't get any

easierthanthis.”Decisions, he meant.

Judgments. When to fight,and when to kill. The dailybread of princes and kings.Sasha wondered darkly ifDamon would have quite somanydoubtsifthementobefoughtwereGoeren-yai.“Damn it,” Damon

mutteredandreinedhishorseabout,signallingtoJarydandCaptain Tyrun. Thecommandswentoutfromthe

sergeants, formingcompanies.Kessligh pulled Terjellyn

as close to Peg's side aspossible, considering thevillagers. “We'll run the leftflank behind SergeantGarys,” he told her.“Remember you're notarmoured, we're runningreserveforthefrontline.”Sasha nodded, gazing out

across the farmland,wondering at the footing and

the line. She looked down atthe woman by her boot.“Please,mother,”shesaid, inkindness laced withdesperation, “the soldiers aremoving.Pleasemovebackoryou'll be trampled.” Sheleaned down to grasp thewoman's hand, gently. Thereturn graspwas hard,work-hardened fingers clutchinglikeclaws.“I know you, Synnich-

ahn,” said the woman, in

hoarse, broken Lenay. Hereyes were bloodshot red andher earrings were curling,metal spirals that mightdenote a spirit talker.Unusual,forawoman.Sashastared,asherheart skippedabeat. “The line is unbroken,Synnich-ahn.Whatwas oncethe father's shall pass to thedaughter. The time hascome.”The woman moved back

with the others, as horses

jostledpastandlargeportionsof the column broke indifferent directions, spillingthrough the shattered gatesinto broad fields to the leftand right. Kessligh took offdownslope and Sashafollowed,gallopingalong thewinding trail until there wasanother gate in the left wall,and they turned sharplythrough it. The open fieldstretched before them,sloping rightwards, as

Sergeant Garys's contingentran along the upper slope totheir left. Kessligh allowedSasha to pull alongside at agentlecanter,swordout.He pointed his sword,

indicating the vast sweep ofhillside before them. “Whatdoyousee?”“Nospaceforawideline,”

Sasha replied, standing halfupright in the stirrups for abetter look, the wind tossingathertri-braid.“Besttokeep

theminsmallgroups,perhapsfive apiece, following tworoutesofapproach.”“Whynotmore?”Kessligh

asked,voiceraisedabove thethunderofhooves.“There are only so many

good approaches throughbroken terrain. Also ambushspots are limited on the wayin, we only need so manyvantagepoints.”Kessligh nodded. “Also,

see the way the paddock

walls follow the contours ofthe land?” He swept hisswordacrossaforwardarc…and Sasha noticed thatindeed, the stone walls didhold to thehigher ridges andclimbed the steeper folds atright angles.Which was oneof those things that Kesslighcalled thedifferencebetweenknowledge and wisdom—ofcourse she'd always knownthe farmers constructed theirwalls as such, she'd simply

never thought of themilitaryimplications. Most wisdom,Kessligh insisted, wascomprisedofthingsthatmostpeople already knew, butsimply hadn't understood inallitsimplications.“Trustthefarmers, they know the landbetter than we. Follow thewalls,use themasaguide totheland.Andseethisshallowdepression downslope? Ifwefollow it further leftwardsinstead of the direct route to

town, we'll have cover forlonger and gain somesurprise.”“Might they already have

seenus?”Sashaasked.“Perhaps…but I suspect

they'll be watching north forTaneryn reinforcements, notsouth. These are Hadrynvillagers, I'm moderatelysure,notcompanysoldiers.”A low stone wall

approached, Peg andTerjellyn jumping it

comfortably. “You thinkthey've claimed this land forHadryn?”Sashaasked.“I think they've been

awaitinganopportunity foralong time,” Kessligh saiddarkly. “As for what they'veactually proclaimed…we'llknow when we're downthere.”“Who'sinchargenowwith

Lord Rashyd dead? Usyn?”Kessligh nodded. UsynTelgarwasheirtotheHadryn

GreatLordshipandnotmucholderthanherself.“YouthinkUsynorderedthis?”“Ithinkhe'lldenyit.Butso

much in theHadryn–Tanerynconflict just happens bymutual consent of allinvolved.”Leftwards, Sergeant

Garys'scontingentofperhapsthirty horse came to a haltupon an open, sloping fieldandbegan formingup.Sashaand Kessligh reined upslope,

angling past a broad shelf ofdarkrockthatthrustfromthegreen field, forming a minorcliff below which numeroussheepweregrazing.“Back there,” said

Kessligh. “That womancalledyoutheSynnich.”“It was Synnich-ahn,”

Sasha corrected. “Across allthe northern tongues, the“ahn”infersaguide.”“They used to call me

that.”

“Theystilldo.ButI'myouruma. It seems it's fallen tome.”Kessligh looked

displeased. “You shouldn'tfool around with prophecies,Sasha. This kind ofsuperstitiousnonsensecangetyouintodeeptrouble.”Sashastaredathim,aghast.

“How is thismy fault?Whatpossible say can I have overwhat people may choose tobelieve?”

“You've become a symboltotheGoeren-yai,Sasha.Youof all people should knowhowlongthey'vewishedforaroyalGoeren-yai—”“I'm Nasi-Keth, I can't

speak for them!” Sasha cuthimoff,angrily.“And as Nasi-Keth,”

Kesslighreplied,“youshouldrememberthatyouareboundto the Nasi-Keth as much astoanyoneinLenayin.”Sasha snorted in disbelief.

“Why is it that as soon asanyone important saysanything nice to the Goeren-yai, all the Verenthanes areupinarms!”“Becauseitisthenatureof

power to be nervous,”Kessligh said grimly. Theyreached the next low wall,and cleared it together. “Andbecause the ruling class areall Verenthanes and knowonlytoowellwhataGoeren-yai uprising could mean for

themall.”“How could anyone

possibly be stupid enough tothinkIwouldbeinterestedinthat?”Sashademanded.“Because the more

powerful men are, thestupider they become. LordKrayliss threatens exactlythat.And rumoursnowplaceyou at his side. As Ipredicted,ifyourecall.”“Ican'tcontrolwhatpeople

say about me!” Sasha

snapped.“IamwhoIam!”Kesslighdidnot reply.Up

ahead, every man waswatching as they rodeforward. Sasha could see theconfidence in their eyes, andtheirpostureinthesaddle, tosee the great man approach.Manyhadnodoubtgrownupwith their ears filled withstories of the great KesslighCronenverdt. To ride intoconflict of any in thecompany of the great

Kessligh was an honourabovenearlyallelse.A cheer went up as

Kessligh and Sashaapproached, and Sashadecided to pull Peg back alengthandallowallattentionto fall upon her uman.Kesslighwaved his sword inreply. Surely these menweren't to know how muchKessligh hated all theadulation.Notthatheeverletit show—he respected the

pride of Lenay warriors fartoomuch.Letthemhavetheirhero, and cheer when theywantedtocheer.Kesslighhadmore important things toworryabout.“We'll take the rear,”

Kessligh announced to thegroup, meaning himself andSasha, “like the pair ofunarmouredcowardsweare.”A roar of laughter. “We'll becrossing the road to Hadrynon this side, and the

guardpostthere.Ifthey'vegotarchers, remember—don'tcharge, flank. That's whatcavalry'sfor.Getbehindthemandkillthem,noneedtogivethemeasy shots. If they lookundecided, demand theysurrender and save yourselfthe trouble. It'd be lovely ifthey all surrenderedimmediately, but I don'texpect it. As flankers, wehave the perimeter, PrinceDamon shall lead the main

force into the town. He'srelying on us to keep hisflanks and rear secure fromcounterattack. Let's not lethim down. Sergeant Garyshasthelead.”Another cheer went up.

From back at the road, ananswering cheer, nodoubt inreplytoasimilarspeechfromCaptain Tyrun. The rightflank would be led by alieutenantwhosenameSashahadn't yet learned. Kessligh

had said that Damon wouldlead the central attack,Sashareflectedastheymovedasidefor the formation to comepast. Flattery of the princebefore the men—technicallyDamon was leading thecentral charge, but he wouldbeseveralrowsdeepfromthefront,surroundedbyhis littlecontingentofRoyalGuard.To her faint surprise, she

felt the first, genuine stab ofworry. Concern for Damon,

no less. And reprimandedherself a moment later—Damon was a fine horsemanand swordsman…for a non-svaalverd fighter, anyhow.No effort in training wasspared for a Prince ofLenayin.Andhewasthebestprotected soldier in theformation; not easilydistinguishablefromaregularsoldier in his dress—hewouldbefine.“You,” said Kessligh,

pointing to Terjellyn's rear,“stay right here, the wholetime. You're good on yourfeet, but cavalry's a wholedifferent world. Know yourlimitations.And his.”With asharpgesturetoPeg.“I know,” she told him,

meeting his stern gaze ascalmly as possible. “I won'tdo anything stupid. Ipromise.”“Firsttimeforeverything,I

suppose.” But his crooked

smile held a hint of realaffection.Sashafeltherheartswell. He reached out andthey tapped fists. FromKessligh, a rare gestureindeed.Italmostworriedher,that he should choose thismomentforsuchagesture.Ayellthenfromthecentre,

andacrosstherollinghill,thecentral formation moved offdownslope, three lines ofhorsemen following the roadand two additional lines to

either side. Sergeant Garyswavedafistandtheleftflankmoved forward at a canter.As the last of them passedSashaandKessligh'sposition,they tapped heels andfollowed.The low wall they'd

jumped on the way uppresented the first obstacle—armoured Lenay horsemenregularly practised onobstacles twice as high, andcleared it comfortably. The

pace accelerated to a fastcanter, eachof the two lines’leaders scanning intentlyahead, selecting their lineacross the undulatingdownward slope, over walls,past orchards, farmhouses,barns and clusters oflivestock,planningaheadandpredicting events. The leaderof the rightward column hadanother man at his side,holding formation with hisleader, but glancing

continually across at thecentral formation as theycamedownthewindingroad,makingsurethisflankdidnotoutpace,norwereleftbehind.The rear had a certain

freedom,Sashasaw,realisingnow the other reason whyKessligh preferred it, apartfrom his and her lack ofarmour. She could seeeverything without botheringaboutformations—thecentralcolumn upon the right,

weavingandsplitting topassabout another burnedfarmhouse, thebroken, rockyridge over to the far leftwhere the open farmlandappeared to stop, and all thesweeping contours inbetween. The paceaccelerated once more, andshe took the liberty ofgalloping off to Kessligh'sside,togainsomespace.Thehillsidewas flatter for

a moment, then fell away

more steeply and she had abrief, fantastic view of thetown of Perys, nestled uponitsprotrudingridgebelow.Astheydrewcloser,someofthesmokeintownappearedtobeaccompaniedbyflames.The horses in front leaped

anotherwall, then descendedthesteeperslopebeyond…thewall rushed up, Sashacounting Peg's strides andjudging distances by reflex,then sailing precisely over,

touching with barely animpactastheslopefellaway.They plunged at rapid speedas the whole frontaccelerated, Peg stretchingoutandthreateningtogainonthe riders ahead.Sashawovehimofftooneside,thenbackagain, and liked the way thevantage changed at thatspeed, as the wind stung ather eyes and clods of earthfrom the racing horsemen infrontspunandfelltoallsides

likerain.They raced into the

depression Kessligh hadindicatedearlier,Perysoutofview behind the interveningridge, then rounded theridge'send.Overandacrossaslantingriseintheland,then,hurdling another wall andskirting the smoulderingremains of a farmhouse, arushof ashen smell upon thewind. Suddenly to the rightthe road was visible once

more, andupon it the centralformation, which had skirtedthecliff'sotherend.She saw the other

horseman before anyone—astartled figure racing frombehind the cover of anorchard—andyelledwarning.More yellswent up from thefront as he was joined by asecond, racing downslope atfullspeed.SuddenlyKesslighwas peeling off, selecting apath to the right of the

orchard strip. A farmer's hutlay in ruins behind theorchard wall and thenKessligh'sarmwasindicatinganother line to the right, astream, Sasha saw, cuttingdownslope and through theorchard.Kessligh jumped, and then

she did, past the ashen ruinand angling right to take thestream directly…and Sashacaught a glimpse from thecorner of her eye—bodies

upon the ground, human andlivestock, slaughteredtogether. Peg leapt thestream, then skirted theorchard'srightflank,lowfruittrees whipping past her,Sasha drawing her blade forthe first time and holding itlow to the right, ready forsurprises.Theorchardpassedwithnosignoffurtherhiddenriders as they leapt the endwall and continued across anopen field, panicked sheep

scattering before them inwaves.Ahead, several guardsmen

were closing on the twoescaping riders. Peg andTerjellyn hit their full stridefor the first time, closing thegap and hurtling down theslope.Another cry rang highupon the wind ahead abovethe thunder of poundinghooves.“Murdering thieves!

Murdering thieves!” A

pursuing soldier aimed acrossbow upon hissaddlehorn.Ajolt,andoneofthethievesfaltered,clutchingawkwardlyat the reins.Thenfell, rolling and crashing atbone-breaking speeds. Thesoldier's companion wasgaining on the second man,sword raised, but at the lastmoment, the remaining thiefevaded him and theguardsman and his formationchargedon,havingnotimeto

stopanddealwithstragglers.Except that now, Kessligh

angled directly toward thethief, weapon raised withobvious intent. Sasha fellbackandmovedacross,readyto intercept any obviousescaperoute.Theriderswungfrom the saddle, clutchingstirrup and rein to use hishorse as a shield. Kesslighand Sasha flashed by him,one to either side, Sashasparing a disgusted glance

overher shoulderas themanregained the saddle andspurred his mount uphill,makingnoattempttofollow.She andKessligh leaped a

wall, skirted a rising moundof rock, then crested anotherslight rise as suddenly Perysappeared directly before andbelow. Three groups ofhorsemen now rusheddownslope upon that central,converging ridge. Thedownhill road linked with

another from the left that ranoff towardHadryn,along theshoulder of the gorge.Through that junction ran astonewallnohigher than theothers, and a simpleguardpost with a hut and asmall barn for horses.Squinting through the wind,Sasha could see figuresmanningthatpostandseveralspots along the wall, plusseveral tethered horses.Abovethethunderofhooves,

therecamethesoundofabelltolling.The Falcon Guard raced

the final length of slope,weapons brandished andbanners flying. From thetown, well behind the stonewall,thereemergedanumberof horsemen coming out togreet them. Sasha saw theguardpost archers fire, andabandonedanylasthopeofarapid surrender as a leadingguardsman'shorsewentdown

in a horrid tangle of animalandhumanlimbs.Therecamean answering roar from theFalconGuards,andthentheywere plunging over thewall,the archers ducking forshelter as the centralformation continued acrossopenground to the townandtheemergingriders.Shemissed that firstclash,

however, as Kessligh swungwide right, then back left tojump the wall at a close

angle.Sashafollowedawidthwider for cover, and sawTerjellyn fairly trample onerunner into the ground,Kessligh reversing for a neatbackhandcut tofellasecondas he ran. And then he wasriding up along the wall,flushing men from theirhiding crouches even as anumber of Sergeant Garys'sgroup came circling back.Several reloading archersleaped the wall to escape

Kessligh's blade, anotherfreed his horse and leaptastride just in time to be cutfrom the saddle atKessligh'spassing.They swerved to miss the

guardhouse and barn; theremaining, tethered horsesscampering in fear, anothermanthrowinghimselfclearintime to avoid Terjellyn'spoundinghoovesonlytofindhimself in Sasha's path—Peghad no respect for human-

sized obstructions when hisbloodwasup,andshebarelyfeltthebumpasPegsmashedhim spinning aside. Thensome of Sergeant Garys'smen were in amongst it,ridingdownfootsoldiersandsweeping both sides of thewall.Sasha lost Kessligh

momentarily in a confusionof riders, struggling forcontrol with a double-reinedgrip in her left hand—Peg

saw a gap almost before shedid andwent through itwithlittleurging,intoopengroundbefore the town. Riderswheeled ahead, more of theflanking formation dealingwith those the centralformation had bypassed.Weapons slashed and cut,outnumbereddefenderstryingdesperately to survivethrough manoeuvre anddefence…several horseswithempty saddles, a pair of

guardsmen collided, a crashof horses and a catapultingrider,Sashareiningasidethatcollision and searching invainforKessligh…Asnarlingriderinnorthern

dark greys came at her fromthe right and she dug in herheels, Peg's accelerationleaving the rider's swing farshort. She dodged again asanother two men locked injostling combat threatened tohither,thenslashedhardata

wild stroke fromher side—itjolted her arm and shespurred Peg on, emergingfrom that little knot to findopengroundtoPerysinfront,andthetailendofahorseshefancied was Terjellyndisappearingfastintoitsmainstreet. She spurred after him,flexing her aching arm andriskingaglancebehindtoseeif she were pursued. Havingclearedthewallofopponents,guardsmenwerenowheading

for the fight in strength—soon the odds for thedefenders would beoverwhelming.Peg raced across the

undulating final stretch,frothing and blowing hard,Sasha wriggling the fingerson her gloved right hand, asthe index finger had gonesuddenly numb. She hadn'tperformed that parry well atall. Kessligh was right,cavalryfightingwasnotideal

for a svaalverd fighter—balanceinthesaddlewasnotalways simple, and fared farbetter with two hands thanone. Deprived of hertechnique, the strength ofLenay fighting men becameformidable.Thatlastmanhadstruckhard.Then Peg's hooves were

pounding upon the packedearthroad,ramshacklehousesto either side, their doorssmashed in. Further ahead,

several dwellings werereduced to smoulderingashes. Beyond that,something large still burned.She raced by several bodiesin the road, recently slashedand weapons at their side,blood pooling upon the dirt.Ahead, the road opened intowhatappearedtobeacentralvillage courtyard. Within,fighting raged, horsestrampling in circles andswords clashing. There was

nosignofvillagersanywhere.She burst into the

courtyard and saw the mainsourceofsmoke—theroofofthe broad, wooden traininghall, which dominated thecentre of the square, was onfire. Guardsmen seemed tohave mostly won the fightagainst opposing cavalry asmany Hadryn bodies laysprawled about the square.Numerous guardsmen haddismountedtogivechaseinto

broken doorways, or acrossthe debris of previouslydestroyed buildings. Shenoticed guardsmen clusteredupon the front verandah ofthe training hall, hammeringat the door with their swordhilts. One gave a harshcommandtoothers,whowentracingabout to thebuilding'sother side, searching forentrances. From inside, shecould hear the shrill cries ofwomen.

Sasha spurredPeg forwardwhile sheathing her sword.She leaped from the saddle,runningacrossthestonesandontotheverandah.“Someonegiveme a lift!” sheyelled atthe men hammering at thedoor, which appeared to befirmly locked. They spun…andtohersurprise,theleaderwas Jaryd, his young facestreaked with sweat beneathhis helm. “Get me onto theroof!Icangetinfromthere!”

“The damn roof's on fire,fool!” Jaryd yelled back ashis men continuedhammering.“Iknow!Ispendalotmore

time in these buildings thanyoudo,justtrustme!”Jarydsworeandran toher

side, hands clasped togetherfor a cradle. Sasha stuck herfootinit,graspedthesupportpillar forbalanceandshovedupwards. Jaryd lifted at thesame time, with a great

heave, and she caught theverandah roof with bothhands. She got an arm over,braced an elbow andscampered with both feetupon the pillar…it propelledher over the edge and ontothe wooden shingles. Sherolled upright, immediatelyfeelingtheheatof theflamesthat roared and surged uponthe right side of the roof,threateningtocaveitin.Sasharanuptheincreasing

incline, aiming booted feetfor the nails, knowing that amisstep could break straightthrough(she'ddoneitbefore,playing games on variousroofs as a girl). Shemanoeuvred around theforward triangle panel androlled onto the upper rooftopfrom there. Moved along alittleway,thensimplystartedkickingwithaheelatalikelyspot. A wooden shinglebroke,andshekickedseveral

more, clearing a space ofexposed beams throughwhich dark smoke pouredout. One of the big Lenaysoldiersmighthavestruggledto fit through it, but Sashaquicklyknelt,gotbothfeetin,took her weight on her armsand lowered herself throughwith a hand-hold reversal,gasping a deep, final breathasshewent.Smokewithin theenclosed

ceilingspacemadebreathand

sightimpossible.Shescrewedhereyesshut,heldherbreath,andfeltaboutuponthestrawceiling matting for an edge.Pulled it up and threw itaside, drew her sword andplunged it point first throughthe light planks below.Stabbed repeatedly, then gother gloved hands into thebrokengaps in thewoodandpulled. They broke easily.Sasha threw them away,sheathed her sword as the

lack of air began to burn ather lungs, stuckherheadoutofthegapbelowandsawthebroad, open space of thetraining hall divided bymultiple tachadar circlesamidst numerous woodenceiling supports. There weremore horizontal beamsbelow, and she grasped theedges of her hole, thrust herbody out and half-somersaulted upon that grip,legs swinging and catching a

beam. She grabbed onto it,swinging upside down byhands and knees, andoverarmed to the ceilingpillar, sucking air thinly asthesmokeclusteredabouttheceiling.Shegrabbedthepillarand slid down the smoothhewn sides to the ground,gasping a deep breath as theairclearednearthebottom.A crowd of villagers were

clusteredateitherendaroundthe huge doors, which

appearedtohavebeenbarredand padlocked. “Padlockedfrom the inside, but not theoutside?” was her immediatethought.“Howdidthepersonwith the key get out?” Acrash from themiddle of thehall interrupted that thoughtasceilingbeamscollapsed ina clatter of flames, charcoaland sparks. The low ceilingofsmokewasgrowinglower,the visibility already terrible,blocking light fromthesmall

windowshighinthewalls.Ahammering sounded abovethe screams and crackling ofthe fire—someone trying tohack throughawallwithaxeor sword. Neither wouldwork,thesewallswerevertynhardwood, four times theweight of regular pine andjust as many times thestrength.“Stand aside!” she yelled

to the villagers. “Get aside,give some room!” They

turned in astonishment andpulled others aside who hadnot heard, clothing held totheirmouths, eyeswidewithpanic. Sasha redrew hersword and examined thepadlock, a big, heavy, ironcontraption, no doubtimported from the lowlandswhere such things werecommonly engineered. Shepointedtothenearestwoman.“Hold this lock! Like this.Keep this side facing up!

Don'tworry,you'llkeepyourfingers!”The woman grasped it in

fear, held as instructed, andshut her eyes. About her,Sashawas aware, therewerechildren crying. She tookstance, trying to relax hershoulders…without a cleanbreath to take, itwasn't easy.But then, forher, swingingasword was easier thanbreathing, and serrin steelwas far tougher than iron.

ThelockbrokewitharingingclashandSasha tore the lockaside, villagers crowding tolift the heavy bar across thedoor and crash it to theground. Pressure from insideand out sent it rolling asideand villagers poured out,clutching children andcoughingforair.Sasha remembered the

group at the other end andturned back to staredesperately through the

smoke…but already theywere coming, skirting theflames.“That'sallofthem?”Sasha

yelled as they came. “Noothers?”“That's all!” answered an

elderly,coughingman.“Theylocked us in here, threatenedtokillachildontheoutsideifwe did not throw the keyout…we…wedidn'tknowtheroofwasafireuntil…”“Tell me later!” She

ushered him out, onto theverandah,tofindthatmostofthe others had already beenescorted across the square tothe neighbouring inn. Shemoved down the stairs andacross the square at the oldman's side, several womenhasteningtohelp.Halfway across, and a

thunderofhoovesandmotiontook her attention left…ahorsemancametoaskitteringpause, several men on foot

behind,weapons inhandandassuredly Hadryn from theirdarkgreycloaks.Theirheadswere bare, hair closelycropped in the Verenthaneway, nearly bare at the backand sides in the northernstyle.Gleaming star symbolshung prominently about theirnecks.“It is the Cronenverdt

bitch!” yelled the horsemanto the others, their eyeswildwith the fury of recent

combat, sweaty, dirt-stainedand, inseveralcases,bloody.“WemayhavelostPerys,butthistrophyshallbeours!”“Run!”Sashayelledat the

straggling villagers, who ranfor the inn. The horsemanspurred his mount, poundingstraight for her. Sashaswitchedherswordtoherlefthand, and waited. For achargingwarhorse, it seemedto be approaching veryslowly. Everything did. The

Hadryn's face was contortedwith rage and the lust ofrevenge. And Sasha felt awave of hatred, calm andsmooth,likefireinherveins.She rolled aside at the last

moment, the rider's swordflashingemptyair,performeda simple roll to one knee, ahand to the knife at her belt,and threw. The knife struckthe passing rider in the sideand he clutched at it with acry.

The first of the footsoldiers reached her at fullpeltandunloadedwithahugeswing fit to cleave her intwo…Sasha sidesteppedwitha neatly angled, swingingdeflection, and slashed himopen from behind as heskidded by. The secondswung high, low andsideways, Sasha fadingsmoothly before each, feetand hands shifting in unison.Athirdcameatherflankwith

a ready blow, and Sashareversed the parry into aswivelling footing-changethat took half a length fromthe new attacker before herealisedhewasinrange.Herswing cleft head fromshoulders,beforereversinginturn to slash at her originalopponent, low backhand tohigh overhead…his footingentangled as his defencestruggled to make thatdifficult transition, his guard

faltering,andSashasplithimacross the middle with aviciouscut.Afourthchargedwitha roar,ahugemanwithbare biceps rippling beneathhis sleeveless tunic…Sashasaw the basic pattern of hisattackbeforeperhapsevenhedid, and simply invited theright-quarter cross that sheknew would follow thehalfstep fake and thrust.Deflected it straight past itstargetasheoverbalanced,her

bladecirclinginthatsingular,foot-sliding movement toremove arm and head inquick,precisesuccession.Silence, then. She stood

amidst the gruesome, humancarnageshehadwrought,andlooked about. She feltamazingly calm. Soundseemed to come at her asthough from underwater.Colours appeared strange,almost tactile. The blacksmoke roiling above seemed

impossibly black, andominous. The blood thatspurtedandfloodedaboutherbootswasthedeepest,reddestof reds she'd ever seen. Sheswungslowlyinherstance,asliding pivot in the centre ofthe dirt courtyard betweenneighbouring buildings andthe burning hall. Behind,guardsmen were staring ather. Blades limp at theirsides, paused as if halted inmid-rush,havingcometoher

aidbutfindingthemselvesfartoolateforassistance.Jaryd Nyvar was at their

head,staringasifhe'dseenaghost. Sasha took a long,slow breath and steppedcarefully past the ruinedcorpses, her boots alreadysplattered red with blood.Jaryd made the Verenthaneholy sign repeatedly. AVerenthane guardsman didlikewise. Another made thespirit sign, then another.

Further along, a guardsmanhadremovedtheridershehadknifedfromhismount.Hesatupon the dirt now, clutchingthe knife wound in his side,guarded at blade point. Thewound, she noted coldly,appeared several finger-breadthsawayfromhisheart.More throwing practice wasinorder,itseemed.“Your Highness…” Jaryd

said hoarsely as she passed,eyes filled with utter

disbelief. “I…please, YourHighness…”From the verandah of the

inn, a crowd of villagersstared and gasped amongstthemselves.“Synnich-ahn,” she heard

the reverent, frightenedmurmur. “Synnich-ahn.”Withwonder.She paused before the

fallen rider. He stared up ather fromwithin a grimacing,battle-stained face. Hatred

and fear battled forsupremacy inhiseyes.Sashamet his gaze directly with astareofuttercontempt.“Where are your gods

now?”shesaid.

THE COLUMN RODE FROM

PERYS in the early afternoon,short five of their number.Two were dead, and anotherthreeborewoundstooseverefor them to continue. Allremained in Perys, confidentof the goodwill and care oftheir hosts. Thirty-one to

three.Itwas,Sashareflected,an abject lesson in theimportanceofbasictactics.She was almost surprised

atherselfforfindingthetimeto think on such thingsthrough the turmoil andheartbreak of the scene atPerys. But above thesuffering, and any simplehumancompassion,therewasstrategy.Suchwas the lessonthatKessligh had driven intoher—thatthelivesofsoldiers,

and indeed the lives of anentirepeople,would in timesof war become dependentupon something so simple asa commander's decisions anddeployments. IfKesslighandCaptain Tyrun had not beenso competent many morefamiliesofTyreewouldhavebeen mourning the loss of ason, brother or father atPerys.They left their Hadryn

prisonerswithinthecareofa

Verenthane monastery alongthe valley from Perys.LeavingtheminPerys,tothetender mercies of thetownsfolk whose familiestheyhadslaughtered,wasoutofthequestion.Sasha gazed along the old

monastery walls as she rodebeside them, turning back inhersaddletocontemplatethesingle spire that thrustskywardaboveamagnificentsprawl of Lenay hillside.

With its small, archedwindows placed high in thewalls, the monastery seemedasmuch to shun its beautifulsurroundings as to revel inthem. The Goeren-yai in hersoul rebelled at the feel of it—dark, worn stone,unsmilingandwelcomeless.“How long has it been

here, do you think?” sheasked Kessligh, as they rodetwo abreast behind Damonand Captain Tyrun, the

forward guard in full armourand banners ahead of them.Notthatthebannerscouldbeseenforanydistancethroughthe thick pine forest…butthen, there was always theprospect of ambush fromTaneryns thinking them aHadryn column, or vice-versa.“Torovans have been

coming here for centuries,”Kessligh replied, eyeing themonastery's dark walls with

an unreadable eye.“Verenthaneism moved fromthe Bacosh into Torovanperhaps six hundred yearsago. There was a centurythen, before the CherrovanEmpire, when Lenayin waswide open to Torovanmissionaries. Goeren-yaididn'ttakeanymorekindlytoattempted conversions thenthan they do now…but ifthese foreigners wanted tospendtheefforthewingstone

and living alone in thewilderness,well,theyweren'tbothering anyone. I'd guessthis one is somewherebetweenfiveandsixhundredyearsold.”Sasha nodded—it had that

looktoit,ofageandconstantuse.“Damon,”shethoughttocall forward.Damonglancedover his shoulder, turning inthesaddle inorder toseeherpast the obscuring helm.“How old a building? Did

you see the foundation stoneabovethedoor?”“The year 309, it said,”

Damon answered, and Sashapursedher lips.Fivehundredandforty-eightyearsold,then—itbeingtheyear857bytheVerenthane calendar, sincethe gods had presented SaintTristan with the Scrolls ofUlessis, in the Bacoshprovince of Enora. Thenumber meant something toVerenthanes. To Goeren-yai,

it provided merely aconvenient yardstick againstwhichtomeasuretime.“The Cherrovan didn't

mindthesemonasteries?”“No,” said Kessligh.

“Cherrovan weren't botheredby much, back then. Or atleast, they didn't find a fewmonks in the wildernessthreatening.”“There'sanoldruinoffthe

road to Cryliss,” Sashacountered. “The stones are

blackened, it looks as if itmighthavebeenput to firealongtimeago.”“Yes, but that's Valhanan.

There's no monasteriesaroundValhananorTyree.Ormuch of central Lenayin, forthatmatter.”“Why?”“Becausethegood,tolerant

folk of Valhanan burnt themall down and put theinhabitants to the sword, ofcourse.” Sasha gave him a

frowning look, questioninghis sincerity. Kesslighshrugged. “Good people canhave bad histories, Sasha.And bad people can havegood moments too in theirpast. Not everything theCherrovan did in theiroccupationwasbadeither…alot of verygood, enlightenedCherrovanformedallegianceswith Lenays, and workedwith them for the commongood. The Udalyn especially

met and worked with manysuch. Imet some, in thewar—Cherrovans who hadmarried into Udalyn familiesand ended up fighting theirownpeople for the liberationofLenayin.Idon'tdoubttheirdescendants are still alive inthe Valley of the Udalyn,those that survived. Allforgottentoday,ofcourse.”“I thought an enlightened

Cherrovan was acontradictioninterms,”Sasha

remarked.“Iaskedaserrinaboutthat

once,when Iwas young andnaive.Shewaswell-versedinLenay history, her uman hadtaught her the accumulatedtales of more generations ofLenays than any Lenayhumancouldpossiblyholdinhishead. Iaskedher if, fromthe serrin point of viewspanning countless centuries,the Cherrovan were aparticularly bad or barbaric

people. She was quitesurprised at the impetuosityof thequestion, coming froma Lenay…or at least anadopted Lenay. “Youngman,”shesaid,“IbelievetheLenayexpressionisthatyourimplication is like the potcalling the pan black.” Overthe span of the last thousandyears, Sasha, the mostbarbaric, bloodthirstywarmongers in all of Rhodiawere the Lenays. That's one

reason the Torovans are sokeenonrecruitingus to fightin the Bacosh—they hopethat the simple fear of aLenay army in the lowlandswill frighten the SaalshenBacosh into concedinggroundwithout a fight. TheytelltalesofLenaywarriorsinPetrodor that would makeyour blood run cold. TheLenay ‘enlightenment’, suchas it is, is a very recentphenomenon,Iassureyou.”

“Do you think the comingof Verenthanes withGrandfather Soros madeLenayin a better place?”Sashaaskedsombrely.“A central authority in

Baen-Tar made Lenayin abetter place,” Kesslighreplied with surety. “ThisconflictbetweenTanerynandHadryn may be containedbecauseofwhatwearedoingright now—companies in theservice of your father riding

toputastoptoit.Inpreviouscenturies, that didn't happen.Lenayin is a nation now, notjustasquabblingrabble.AndVerenthaneism is the gluethat holds the provinces toyourfather'swill.”“So you think

Verenthaneism has made usbetter?”“I didn't say that. Glue is

glue. Verenthaneism servesits purpose where fractiousancient beliefs and loyalties

could not. It makes Lenayinone. But any other gluemayhaveservedaswell.”

There was nothing quite solonely, Sasha thought, assittingwatch at camp after abattle. The log beneath herwas hard, the air far colderthanasummernighthadanyright tobe, and therewasnolight but the brilliance of a

billion stars. From about thecampcamethesoundofmensnoring, or a horse snorting.Alone in the dark, awatchman'sthoughtswerehisonly company. And hismemories.A twig snapped. Sasha

stared into the darkness,hands grasping the sword byher side. A rustle of pineneedles.“M'LadySashandra?Areyouthere?”Jaryd's voice. She could

see him now, very faintly, ashadowin theblackness.Shewondered if he would goaway if she remained silent.“I'm here,” she said instead.“Sittingdown,onthelog.”The shadow approached.

She did not knowwhy she'dinvited him over—like mostVerenthane nobles, JarydNyvarwasapainintheneck.Perhaps, she thought wryly,shewasjustasmuchthefoolasthoseidiotnoblegirlswho

giggled andwhispered at thetournaments.Sittingaloneonguardwatch,evenademonofLoth might be welcomecompany if his eyes werehandsome and his shouldersmanly.The log shifted as Jaryd

settled beside her, wrappedtightly likeherbeneathcloakand blankets. “I couldn'tsleep,” he explained. Hespoke in little more than awhisper, but in the vast,

empty silence, it seemed asloudasayell.“Damnbutit'scold!”“Northerly wind and no

clouds,” Sasha replied,standard knowledge for anyLenaywholivedinthewilds.“Westerlies can be evenworse, the wind comesstraight off the mountains.Some Goeren-yai sayunseasonalweathermeansthespiritsaredisturbed.”Jaryd hissed through his

teeth, rubbing hands togetherbeneathhiscloakandblanket.“Well, the stars arebeautiful,” he admitted.“Don'ttheGoeren-yaibelievethatstarsarelucky?”Sadly, it was too dark for

Sasha to see either hishandsome eyes or manlyshoulders. This conversation,then,wouldrestentirelyuponthe strength of hispersonality. She nearlylaughed.“Aye,”sheagreed.

“Didyoumakeawish?”“No.”“Then what were you

thinkingof?”Jarydpressed.Sasha sighed. “My

mother,”shesaidquietly.“Ah,QueenShenai.”As if

he'd known her personally.JarydwasperhapsonlyayearolderthanSasha—hecouldn'thave been more than sixwhen the queen had died, inchildbirthtoSasha'syoungestsiblingMyklas. Sasha nearly

snorted. “She was verybeautiful.My father says shewasawonderfulqueen.”“I knew her only a little,”

Sashaadmitted.“I can recall the days of

mourning,” Jaryd continued,very much in love with thesound of his own whisper.“Myfamilyallworeblackforseven days. My mother alsodied young, in childbirth. Sosad a thing…and yet sonoble, to die whilst giving

life. A far more Verenthaneend,Ifear,thanmostwarriorsshall meet—dying whilsttakinglife.”“Perhaps if the priests

would allow Verenthanewomen to use the serrin'swhite powder,” Sasharemarked, “all these womenneedn'tdieyoungatall.”Though his face remained

unseen, Sasha could senseJaryd's consternation. “But itisagainstthegods’will!”

“It's against the priests’will,” Sasha retorted. “Serrinwomencanfight,playmusic,makearts,conduct trade…allthethingsthatmendo.It'sfareasier when you're notpregnantallthetime,Igather.I wonder what amazingthings Lenay women woulddiscover they could do ifgiventheopportunity.”“M'Lady…” said Jaryd,

appearing to fight down anamazed smile, “what is a

woman,ifnottheoppositetoaman?”“Shouldawoman thennot

walk?” Sasha replied. “Notbreathe? Not talk and think?Youdoallofthesethings,yetyou are a man, so surely Icannotbeawoman,becauseIdo them too. I think, MasterJaryd, that the only state inwhichawomancanmeet theVerenthane ideal and notmimic any of your manlydeedsisindeath.”

Jarydshookhishead.“Youtruly are a strange girl. Theserrin spread strange notionsfromSaalshen.”“Dotheyfrightenyou?”“Frighten? M'Lady, I

assureyou…Idonotfrighteneasily.”“Yetyoudisapproveofme.

Why? Why wish me to besomething else, unless youfeelthreatened?”Jaryd did not reply

immediately. Somewhere in

the forest, an owl hooted. “Iwas raised to be a goodVerenthane,”hesaidthen.Hesounded troubled.“Yesterday, at Perys, I sawyou do things with a bladethat…that I had not thoughtpossibleforawoman.Barelypossible for most men, infact.Iadmit,Iamconfused.Iwouldliketothinkthathaditbeen me in your place, Iwould have acquitted myselfaswell. I amoneof thebest

swordsmen in Lenayin, Iknowthiswithallmyheart…and yet the artistry withwhich thosemen diedwas…trulyamazing.”Spirits help him, Sasha

thought,hewas trying.Whathe admitted was surely noeasy thing. “The serrin knowmany ancient arts,” Sashatold him, somewhat moregently. “The svaalverd is notinvulnerable by any means,but when taught by the very

besttoacapablepupil…well,I have options in a fight thatmyopponentsdonot.”“I said your ways do not

frighten me, and I mean it,”Jaryd said determinedly. “Iam a swordsman, I can onlyadmire such talent, howeverunexpected. But I shouldwarn you, M'Lady…I knowotherswhofeeldifferently.”“I know…” Sasha began,

butJarydhadnotfinished.“Noblemen,”hesaid,“my

relationsamongstthem.TheyhavelongresentedKessligh'sinfluencewith the king.Andthey speak ill of serrin andNasi-Kethalike.”“Kesslighhas littleenough

influencewith the king thesedays,” said Sasha. “Andnoble Verenthanes havealways resented or dislikedmeforonereasonoranother.But thank you for thewarning. Is there someparticular reason I should be

worried?”Jaryd'ssilencedidnothelp

her nerves. Events were inmotion, and clearly the lordssaw an impendingwar as anopportunity for self-advancement.Waragainsttheserrin would sever all theking's remaining ties withKessligh and the Nasi-Keth.Ifitwasachancetogetridofhim, then it was surely achance to get rid of her. Sherecalled Kessligh's grim

warning at the Steltsyn Star,andsufferedashiverthathadnothing to do with the chillnightair.“A part of me looks

forward to this war,” Jarydsaid. “The holy war toreclaim the Saalshen Bacoshfrom the serrin. You wouldfeeldifferently,Isuppose?”“Saalshen took that land

because theywere attacked,”Sasha replied. “They neverstarted theconflict, theyonly

finished it. The SaalshenBacoshisformidablebecauseit is defended by armies ofhumans and serrin. Mosthumans seem happy there,and they fight ferociously todefend their lands from theso-called liberators. IfLenayin went, we'd be justanother bloody invader. Isthatwhatyouwant?”“Those lands are holy,”

Jaryd countered, though hesounded less than certain. “I

am Verenthane, and theplaces where the faith wasborn are occupied by thosewho do not belong. Anyyoung man wishing foradventurewouldwelcomethechance to ride on such acrusade. And many Goeren-yai I've spoken to said theywould welcome a great war,Lenayin has always been aland of warriors, but theLiberation brought peace.Toomuch peace formany, I

think.”“Serrin did not travel as

much to western provinceslike Isfayen,” said Sasha.“Goeren-yai to thewestmayhave no trouble fightingserrin, but the story isdifferent here.” She paused.“But you said only a part ofyou.Whatoftheotherpart?”Jaryd sighed. “I've never

been interested in the thingsthat my father and uncleslove. Wealth and power,

morelands,moretaxes.Theycomplain endlessly that thenobility has little true powerandthatthekingsavesalltheauthority for himself, andtheyexpectme tobe equallyoutraged…”He shook his head, gazing

into the dark. “And nowmyfatherisdying.Hesentmetothe Falcon Guards when hefound out. He said I mightlearn something. I have theGreat Lordship of Tyree

waiting for me and…and Ican't find it withinmyself tocare.”Sasha stared at him in

astonishment. She hadn'tsuspected that at all. “Youandyourfatheraren'tongoodterms?”sheguessed.“Never,”Jarydsaiddarkly.

“I try to feel sad for him,truly I do. But it's difficult.”From somewhere distant,therecamethemournfulhowlofawolf.Anotheranswered.

Some people disliked thesound. Sasha had alwaysloved it. Such a cold anddesolatebeauty.“Iknowthefeeling,”Sasha

saidquietly.Jaryd glanced at her. “The

king seems…distant. Thoughit issaidhebecamefarmoreso,afterPrinceKrystoffdied.He loved Prince Krystoffdearly,asdidyou.”“He lovedhis heir,”Sasha

muttered. “All kings must

love theirheir, the samewayapriestmustlovehisrobe,ora princess must love herfather. It's an obligation,nothingmore.”“He retreated into temple

afterPrinceKrystoff'sfuneraland rarely comes out to thisday,” Jaryd objected. “Thefirst place my father wouldvisit if I died would be thestable,toreclaimmyhorse.”“Myfatherdesiresthefaith

of the gods above all else,”

said Sasha. “It is said helovedmymother, but I don'tknow how anyone couldprove it. He's a humourless,uncaringstatueofaman,andfor the life of me I couldn'tdescribetoyouhissmile,forI've never seen it, beforeKrystoff died or after. HepraysforKrystoffbecausehethought thegodshadslappedhim in the face by takingKrystofffromhim.Thatupsethim; Krystoff himself he

barelyknew.”“Do you see him often?”

Jaryd asked. He sounded alittlesurprised…butonly thatshewastellinghimthisatall,shereckoned.“A perfunctory meeting

when I travel to Baen-Tar.Nothingmore.”“Fathers,” Jaryd said

distastefully.“Fathers,”Sashaagreed.They sat together in the

cold for awhile and listened

to the vast silence. Thewolveswerequietoncemore.Jarydthenseemedtosmileinthe dark. Then repressed alaugh. Sasha stared at him,wondering what couldpossiblybesofunny.“It's just…you mentioned

the serrin,” Jaryd saideventually, with restrainedmirth,“and Ialways thinkofthis when anyonementions…”“What?” Sasha said

impatiently.“My littlebrotherTarryn,”

said Jaryd. “Such a cheerfullittlefellow.Helikedtostrideabout everywhere with thisbig, wooden sword thattrippedhimwhenhemarchedor turned.One timewhenhewas around four my sistersthoughtitwouldbegrandforhim to lead a ceremonialpresentation for a visitingserrin scholar. So we're allsittingdowninthegrandhall,

withbannerson thewallandtables loadedwithfood…andin comes little Tarryn, alldressed in these…this littletailored collar and vest andgolden buttons…all bold andbeaming at everyone, just awonderful, cheerful littleboy…and he comes downthese grand steps before thecrowd, with everyoneadmiring, andhe's loving theattention so much that hecatches the heel of his shiny

newbootsonthelaststepandfalls smack right on his faceonthefloor.”Jaryd nearly doubled over

with laughter, tryingdesperately to keep fromwaking anyone. Sasha's firstthoughtwasthatitwasaverymean thing to find soamusing. Then sheremembereda timewhenherfavourite dog had gottenloose,jumpedonAlythiaandknocked her face first into a

waiting row of pastries. Andsuddenly, she was doubledoverinnearhysterics.After a while of laughing

through his nose, Jarydstraightened and tried again.“And…Tarryn started to cry,while me and my otherbrother Wyndal are fallingout of our chairs laughing,and our…our sisters areglaring at us. And Fatherjust…just sighs and puts hishead inhishand.”He tooka

deep breath and tried torecover himself. “But theserrin scholar was nice, hegot up and went to Tarryn,pickedhimup,sathimontheedge of the table andsuddenly it didn't matter anymore.Serrindon'tget ruffledvery often, do they? I stillrememberthatman,hewas…hewasnice.”Sasha rearranged her

blanketandcloak,andwipedtears from her eyes. It was

like this, sometimes, after afight. The smallest thing setoff the wildest emotionalresponses. But she greatlypreferredthistrainofthoughttothoseprevious.“Where is Tarryn now?”

sheasked.“He's at Baen-Tar,” said

Jaryd. “He's eleven now,Father sent him for a bit ofsophisticated education. Hehas some cousins there…it'sbeen nice, the past few

months, being posted toBaen-Tar with the FalconGuard.Icouldseehimnearlyeveryday.”“I put a lizard inAlythia's

bed,once,”saidSasha,awareasshesaiditthatitmightnotbepropertosharesuchthingswith Jaryd…but her mouthwasawaynow,andwhenthathappened, her mind had astruggletocatchup.Jaryd blinked at her, his

disbelief clear despite the

blackness.“You…inPrincessAlythia'sbed?”Sashanodded,bitingherlip.“Why?”“She's my sister, I don't

need a reason why,” Sasharetorted. “She was being apain. Besides, it wasKrystoff'sidea.”“Whathappened?”“We hid around a corner

near her chambers…we hadtoshooaguardaway,hejustshook his head and smiled,we were always pulling

pranks.Thenweheardaloudscream and Alythia camerunning out in her nightgown. She knew who did it,she's a pain but she's notstupid.“But she killed the lizard.

She threw it at us, all deadandlimp.Iwasupset,Iyelledat Krystoff and went off tocry in my room. KrystoffcameupandmadesillyjokesuntilIforgavehim.”“Over a lizard?” asked

Jaryd.“I'vealwayslovedanimals.

Horses, dogs, lizards, birds,bats.Someofmybestfriendshave been animals. They'realwayshonestandtheyneverbetrayyou.”“True,”Jarydagreed.“The

first thing my horse mastertoldme—it'sneverthehorse'sfault. If hemakes amistake,it's the rider's fault for notcommunicatingproperly.”“Iagree.I'veoftenthought

thatifmorerulerswentabouttheir rule as they're taught togo about their riding, mostlands would be far betterplaces.”Therewas another silence,

longer than the last. “Well,M'Lady,” Jaryd saideventually, “I must admit,you'renothinglikethepersonthat I'd thought you were. Itseems that I'vebeen told liesaboutyou.”Sasha gave a silent laugh.

“And you're not so badyourself, foraself-important,preening Verenthane noble,”shereplied.“I'll admit to preening,”

Jaryd suggested, “if you'lladmittoasharptongue.”“Admit?HowcouldIdeny

it?”Jaryd smiled. “It must be

near time for your watch toend. Say…it's a cold night.Two bodies are warmer thanone, and there's plenty of

roominmybedroll…”“Oh no,” Sasha laughed,

“you'llnot findmequite thateasy a mark, Master Jaryd.I'veadmitted that Ino longerwishtobreakyourskullwithabluntstick,butthedistancefrom there to where you'resuggesting is a long oneindeed.”“A pity,” Jaryd sighed,

utterly unperturbed. “Theshorthairisanacquiredtaste,butIthinkIwasbeginningto

acquireit…”“Truly.” She was amused,

in spite of her betterjudgment.“It does rather draw

attention toyour lovelyeyes,Ifeel.”“It's dark. I can barely see

you, how can you possiblynoticemylovelyeyes?”“How could I not? And

truly,youmustbebuiltlikearock to produce theswordwork you showed in

Perys with such speed andbalance…”Ah, so that was it. “I'm

sorry,Jaryd,”Sashatoldhim,smiling, “if you wish toindulge that particularcuriosity, I'm sure you couldaskavisitingserrinladyverynicely and she'd be happy toindulge, as serrin often will.I'msureshe'llshowyouallofher muscles in all the mostinterestingplaces.”Spirits help her, she

thought later as she laysnuggled in her own bedroll,she was almost tempted.Unlike Verenthane ladies,Goeren-yai had little worryaboutusing theserrin'swhitepowder,sopregnancywasnoissue. She always carried alittleonsuchrides,notintheexpectation of an amorousencounter, but as a finalguard against the unpleasantprospect of being takenprisoner.Shehadnoillusions

aboutthesuperiormoralityorsexual virtue of women—Verenthanes might believethat, and Goeren-yai to alesser extent, but the serrinplaced the conceptsomewhere between amusingand ridiculous, and in this,Sasha took her teachingsfirmlyfromtheNasi-Keth.Butitwasapricklishthing,

for her. Serrin might leapfrombedtobedwithcarefreeabandon, but she could not.

Shewashuman,afterall,andlust alone (for her at least)was not quite enough.Besides which, there wereenough unpleasant rumoursabout her dubious moralityalready in circulationthroughoutLenayin—shehadnowishtoaddtothelieswithfacts.Ifshewasgoingtorisksuch a thing, then the manwould have to be damnedimpressive to make it worthher while. Jaryd might well

be a decent man, and wascertainlyahandsomeone,butthat was still somewhereshortofherrequirements.

The following morning, thefarmhouses upon the trailwere all deserted, livestockletouttograzeonthethickestpasture in the hopes that thetroubles would pass themover. The trail descended

along a broken, jagged cleftin the hills, toward a lakebelow. It shone vast andsilver beneath the overcastsky, like flashes of preciousmetal through the pines.Beyond the far, northernshore rose genuinemountains, whose highestpeaks bore white caps ofsnow.Part way down the slope

toward the lake, the columnencountered the senior scout

Jurellyn, scanning the clearviewofthelakesidebelow.“Vassyl,”hesaidasSasha,

Kessligh, Damon, CaptainTyrun and Jaryd gatheredabout. Jurellyn's fingerindicated thenear sideof thelake, mostly obscured bytrees. “They're under attack,almost certainly. One of mylads isdowncloser,heheardtrumpets and massed horse.The town's not afire though,sothedefendersmayyethold

theday.”“This trail is guarded?”

Damonasked,frowningasheconsidered the scene. Sashadoubted hewas admiring thebeautyofthealpinelake,northemajesty of themountainsbeyond.“Aye,” said Jurellyn. He

waschewingonagrassstem,Sasha saw. His manner, asroughened and weathered ashis face and hair, was asinformal as she'd ever seena

common man dare withroyalty. Lenayin was full ofsuchmen—foresters,hunters,wild men, as they werecommonly known. Somewere recruited to arms, asscouts. The basic notions ofcivilisation, like manners,were often strange to them.Wise commanders toleratedthe indifference, and reapedthebenefits.“Noknowingbywho. I'd guess perhaps thelocals, knowing this terrain

better.”Heremovedthegrassstem, and spat. “I'll tell youthis—there's not much roomfor massed cavalry downthere on the lakeside. It's notawalledtown,butthey'vegotarchers.Itmightnotmatter.”Kesslighpursedhis lipsas

he considered. “You're right,oldfriend,”hesaid.“That'sanarrow lakeside bank, just afew fields and farm walls.Vassylblocksthewayaroundthe lake entirely for cavalry.

Attacking Hadryn might tryto sneak some infantryaround along the high slope,butthat'll leavethemisolatedagainst Taneryn cavalrybetweenVassyl and the passyonder.”His finger drew across to

the right,where Sasha's eyesfollowed the lake's distantshore beneath themountains.There was the back route toHalleryn.Itendedbeneaththetallest peakopposite—Mount

Halleryn.Directlybelow,shecould clearly make out thedarkclusterthatwasHalleryntown. And if she was notimaginingthings,shethoughtshe could make out a darksmudge within that open,greenvalley.Thosewouldbesoldiers.An army, encampedbeforeHalleryn'swalls.“The Hadryn have no

business even being inTaneryn,” Sasha muttered.“It'saninvasion.”

“Usyn Telgar may claimgood cause,” said Damon.Sasha stared at him. “Hisfatherwasmurdered.Hemayclaimjustice.”“This,” Sasha retorted, “is

notjustice.”“We don't know what this

is, just yet,” Damon replied,his expression dark. Therewas greater force andcertainty in his manner thanSasha had expected. “Weshall go down and find out.

We shall enforce a truce andinterrogatethecommanders.”“We are but eighty men,

Highness,” Captain Tyrunremindedhim.“Not once the other

companiesarrive.”“They may be days.”

Tyrun's manner was calm,merely reminding his princeofthefacts,notadvocatingorarguing.“Then we shan't tell them

that,” Damon said simply.

“Shallwe?”He lookedaround, seeking

disagreement, and appearedmildlysurprisedwhenhedidnotfindany.

The descent through theforested lower slopes wasguarded,forthecolumnheardmany strange calls echoingoff the hills as theydescended. But with the

banners prominentlydisplayed, there came noattack. Finally the trailemerged from the thick treesabove the town of Vassyl.Thesurroundinggrassyfieldswerethickwiththelastofthesummer flowers and thetown's shingled roofs anddecorative trimmings lookedpretty indeedbefore thevast,flatspanofthelake.Spoiling the tranquil scene

were the dark, motionless

forms lying on the fieldsclosertothetown.Hereatthetreeline, Sasha knew, theywere alreadywithin range ofhigh if inaccurate longbowfire.Guardsmen were pointing

westward along thelakeshore, just beyondarrowshot from the town. Aclusterof soldiersandhorseswas visible there, encampedwithin the narrow space ofopen land between the lake

and the steep rise of theforestedslope.Oneriderwasnow galloping forth, bearinga banner on which thereflappedawhiteflag.“I advise we come closer

beforehearrives,myPrince,”Kesslighcalled toDamon.“Ishould like a look at thetown.”Damon nodded and they

continued forward, the rearsections of the columngalloping to draw up the

flanks as they cleared thetreeline. Sasha saw an arrowprotruding from the groundnearby,half-buriedat a steepangle. Then, from the town,there came a second rider,also bearing a pole with awhite flag. He jumped thelow surrounding wall andspurredtowardthem.Sasha could see now that

the tight cluster of buildingswas no accident of planning—the narrow streets would

weave between suchbuildings, providing no easyavenues for gallopinghorsemenandplentyofcoverfor defending archers. Therewere men standing on someof the roofs, leaning onrailings thatseemeddesignedfor the purpose,while othersstood along the low stonewall that ringed the town.Lenay soldiers did nottypically favour archery, butfor the defence of Vassyl, it

seemed the logicalmethod—northern cavalry armour wasrarely more than leather-on-chain, which would bluntlongbow fire, but not stop it.And horses, of course, werenotarmouredatall.Andnow,as the column drew closer,they passed the first fallenbody—a horse, sprawledupon its side, an arrow shaftthroughitsneck.Sashanotedits side continued to rise andfall.

“Damn,” shemuttered andswunginhersaddletocalltothe nearest man behind…buthe had already spotted theanimal'splight,andswungofffrom the column whilstdrawing his sword. Sashaaverted her eyes from whatfollowed—she'd seen enoughkilling of late. Besides, therewere dead men lying upahead, and more fallenhorses. These men did notwear the dark grey of the

Hadryn militia at Perys, butrather theblackand silverofHadrynlinetroops.“The Hadryn Shields,”

Kesslighnotedastheypassedone man, sightless eyesgazing at the sky, a shafteffortlessly puncturing hismailedchest.Hissurcoatboretheemblemofasilvershieldupon black. “Excellentsoldiers. Some of Lenayin'sbest, not like those idiotmilitia. Their commanders

can sometimes let themdown,however.”The man galloping from

the town reached thecolumn's head first, and theforward guard parted to lethimthrough,handswarilyontheirweapons.Damonhaltedand Kessligh rode to his leftside, Captain Tyrun to theright, as the forward guardheld the man's back, andDamon's small Royal Guardcontingent clustered close

behind. Sasha kept herself inreserve at Kessligh's rear,withJarydforcompany.“MyPrince,”saidtherider,

with an accent that wassomewhat northern, butmostlyfamiliar.Hebowedinthe saddle, long,braidedhairfalling about his face. Whenhe straightened, Sasha sawthat his face bore tattoomarkings, and his ears shonewithmany rings. “Good thatyou have come. The Hadryn

make war on us, my Prince.This isan invasion,as surelyyou can see. We defend therearway toHalleryn andwehave not yet let them pass.But the northern clans aremorenumerous thanwe, andwe fear that a reinforcementmay see our numberoverwhelmed. You must putanendtothisaggression,myPrince.”“Whattheprincemustand

must not do,” Captain Tyrun

saidsharply,“isfortheprinceto decide.” The Goeren-yairider simply looked at him,head high and eyes proud.The men of these regionswere deferential to royalty,but only from politeness…and when they found somepersonalbenefitinit.“Lord Krayliss holds

Halleryn?” Damon asked therider.“Aye, my Prince. And

Lord Usyn Telgar puts

Halleryn to siege even now.TheyhaveheavycavalrythatTaneryn cannotmatch in theopen. We can only defendwhat is ours and hope forjusticefromBaen-Tar.”“And how did Rashyd

Telgardie?”“Some Hadryn priests

cametoGessyl,notfivefoldsover yonder,” pointing westtoward the Hadryn border.“They disrupted the people'slivelihoods, angered the

spirits and offended thehonourofthewomen.”Sashafrowned at that. MostGoeren-yai women, thoughnot fighters, could look aftertheirownhonour.“Theyweredriven from Gessyl, butinvented stories of theirmistreatment and of paganinsults to the Verenthanegods. Both LordRashyd andLord Krayliss heard this androde toGessyl. LordRashydwas upon Taneryn land, my

Prince. He invaded ourterritory, he insulted thepeople and caused mortaloffence to Lord Krayliss. Agreat lord need not suffersuch insults upon his ownland. The fight was forhonourandmyLordKraylissprovedthemosthonourable.”A new thunder of hooves

approached and the Hadrynrider was admitted into thecircle before Damon,KesslighandTyrun.

“My Prince,” said theHadrynman,all inblackandsilver, with the leather andchain of the vaunted HadrynShieldscavalry.Hebowedinthe saddle. “Well that youhave come. Have you moreforcesontheway?”“Many,” Damon said

flatly. “They arrive shortly.Explain your presence onTanerynland.”“Thematter is simple, my

Prince,” said the Hadryn

cavalryman. “MyGreatLordRashydTelgarwasmurderedat the hand of Lord Kraylissof Taneryn. By your father'slaw, my Prince, the nowGreatLordUsynTelgar, sonofRashyd,mayseekrevenge.Lord Krayliss has refused toyield to the demands ofmanlyhonour.Thus,weseekitfromhimbyothermeans.”As Sasha understood it,

Usyn Telgar could seekrevenge as a son, and as a

man. But to do so in thecapacity of provincial greatlord, by risking all-out war,undermined the authority ofthekinginBaen-Tar.Here,atthis moment, Damonrepresented the king'sauthority, but was hepreparedtouseit.“How dare you murdering

thieves speak of honour…”theTanerynmangrowled,butDamon held a clenched,glovedfistintheair.

“Insultsandposturingshalldo nothing to sway myfavour,” he said with a darkglare at the Goeren-yai. “Iassureyou.”“My Prince,” said the

Hadryn Shield, “theseanimalsdonotevenallowusa pause within which toreclaim our dead andwounded. We fear some ofourwoundedmay even havebeenmurderedastheylay…”“We did no such thing!”

the Taneryn shot back, eyeshardwithfury.“Wegatheredthewounded and are tendingto them with the best of ourcare, as the customs dictate.Shouldtheinvadersdecidetowithdraw their presence, weshallreturnthosementotheircomrades.”“Themen of Hadryn shall

toleratenohostagethreats!”“Enough!” Damon barked.

The two men subsided to asimmering, furious silence.

The Hadryn was wellarmoured, armed andelegantlypresentedastridehishugelowlandscharger;whilsttheTanerynwasaroughened,rural image in long braids,tattered skins and leathersastride his wiry, half-breeddussieh pony. It turnedSasha's blood cold to seethem as such, these twohalves of Lenayin,Verenthane and Goeren-yai,with such murderous hatred

betweenthem.Praythatitdidnot spread. Pray to the godsor spirits; whoever wouldlisten.“My Prince,” said the

Hadryn, after a lingering,boiling silence. “At least, ifwearenotgranteda truce, ifyour ownmen could retrieveour fallen comrades? Itshould not befit anyone'shonour to leave them lyinghere.”“The soldiers of Baen-

Tar,”Damonsaidcoldly,“arenot here to sweep up afteryour conflicts.” The Hadrynman paled in silent anger.“Soldier,” Damon continued,turning his gaze upon theTaneryn, “upon my request,willyougrantatruceforthispurpose?”TheTanerynthoughtabout

itforamoment.Therewasacommand in Damon's tonethat Sasha had never heardbefore. A newfound

confidence?No. More likely simple

fury, Sasha thought. ItseemedtoaffecttheTaneryn,forhenodded.“Nomorethanfive horses may come,” hesaid.“Upon your honour,”

Damoninsisted.“Uponmyhonour,weshall

notfire.”“Go,” said Damon, “carry

themessage.WeshallridetoHalleryn.”

“MyPrince,”protested theTaneryn, “if you would ridethebackroutealongoursideof the lake,wecanofferyouasafejourneytoHalleryn…”“I shall talk with the new

Great Lord of Hadryn first,”Damonsaidfirmly.“Heistheone claiming grievance, afterall. Have no fear, I shallinterviewLordKraylissinhisturn. You are bothdismissed.”Thetwomenbowedlowin

theirsaddles,thenreinedtheirmounts about and set offgalloping toward theirrespective camps. Theforward guard reformedahead and Damon pressedafter them. Kessligh held toDamon'ssideandSasha tookthe opportunity to moveabreast herself and listen totheir conversation, above theclustered noise of hooves,jangling harnesses andequipment.

“Welldone,”Kesslighsaidsimply,andSashacouldhearreal approval in his voice.FromKessligh,thatwasrare.Damonseemedtoridealittletaller in the saddle, but hisexpressionremaineddark.“I hate these fools,” he

mutteredinreply.“GodshowI hate them, Verenthane andGoeren-yaialike.Soreadytosplit each other's skulls withtheir petty squabbling. I'vehalfamindtoletthematit.”

“In such conflicts,”Kessligh said calmly, “it'salways the villagers thatsuffermost.”Damon let out a sharp

breath. “I know. I'm just…angry.”Heshookhishead,asif to clear it, and gazed outuponthelake.Themountainsonthefarsidemadeaperfectreflectionon thewaterand itseemed to calm his nerves.“So we shall have at it withyoung Usyn. I hear he's as

much a pain as his father.Sofysaysshe'dheardheoncechallenged a courtier to anhonour duel for making funofanewshirthe'dworn.Thecourtierwasfoundhanginginhis bedchambers thefollowing morning, toofrightened to partake.Apparently hisswordsmanship was nothingclosetoUsyn's,andeveryoneknewit.”“It'swellknowntheydon't

fight fair in Hadryn,” Sasharemarkedsourly.“Oh aye,” remarked

Captain Tyrun from the farsideoftheirfour-abreastline,“he's a wonderful youngfellow,Usyn.Brash,vainandimmature. To be expected, ifyouknewhisfather.”“But not stupid,” Kessligh

saidcalmly,“neverthinkthat.His father was smart as allhells.”“What do you suggest,

Yuan Kessligh?” Damonasked.“I have no suggestions,”

Kessligh saidmildly. “Ihaveevery confidence in you,myPrince.”And Damon, Sasha

noticed, seemed mostunhappy with that vote ofconfidence.Theyrodepast theHadryn

lines as preparations werebeingmadetosendfiveridersback to Vassyl for bodies.

There were some light tentserectedandsomeheavyskinsunfurled on the ground formentosleepunder.Perhapsahundredmen,Sashareckoned—not enough against theseveral score archers Vassyllooked to have. ProbablyUsyn Telgar was keepingmost of his cavalry at thewalls ofHalleryn, to preventany breakout, and lackedenoughstrengthasyettosendmore about the lake. Equally

probable that some hot-headed Hadryn Shieldscommanderonthissideofthelake had become impatientwith waiting, and attemptedto take Vassyl with single-handed glory…andpredictable consequences.With Vassyl fallen, the rearroute intoHallerynwould becut, and any potentialTaneryn reinforcement withit. Also, Sasha guessed, itwould open a second front

againstHalleryn'swalls.Many of the Hadryn men

hadpausedintheirroutineoftending horses, food andweapons to gaze sullenly atthe passing Tyree column.There was little affection intheir manner and, above thepounding of hooves, Sashafancied she heard severalcries in a northerntongue…“Gohome!”seemedthegistofit.ShewonderedifthemenofTyreecouldnotbe

equallyjustifiedinyellingthesamethingback.Therideaboutthelakewas

not so long, for the trailacross the mountains’ feetwas well maintained, withlittle stone andwood bridgesto cross the streams thatdescended from the peaks;sheer rock faces thrustingclear of the tree-coveredlowerslopes.Eventually, the column

passed the last of the

mountains and rode from thepatchy tree cover into theopen,grassybasinofavalley.Directly opposite, upon thelakeshore, loomed MountHalleryn,withHalleryn townnestled on its lower slope,onewall facing directly ontothe water. Encamped aboutthefeetoftheHallerynwalls,visible only in patches pastintervening clumps of pineandvalleyfloorboulders,wasan army. Damon urged the

column into a final gallop,and they thundered information across wavinggrasslands and flowers untiltheycouldseealineoftents,carts and emerging soldiersahead. Tent formations werewidely spread, suggestingthat theHadrynwere presentin less strength than theywould have liked. Mentended horses, or performedvariousdutiesaboutcamp,orsword drills and other

exercise on the grass. Sashaguessed that they onlyappeared spread out becausethevalleywassowide.Therewere several thousand menhere,atleast.A small group of riders

headedout togreet themanddirected them to thelakeshore, where thecommand was given todismount. A soldier cameforward to collect the horsesandaHadrynShieldscaptain,

in sweeping black and silvercloak and red helmet plume,beckoned them toward theseveral large tents that hadbeen pitched directly uponthe last of the valley's grass,before the broken stones ofthelakeshore.“Is it wise for her to

come?” Damon askedKessligh, with a dubiousglance at Sasha. Sasha heldhertongue.“TheauthorityofBaen-Tar

isabsolute,”Kesslighreplied.“Make no concessions. If Icome, she comes. Do youwishmepresent?”Damonnodded, brusquely.

“Let's go.” He removed hishelmastheywalked,runninga gloved hand over flattenedhair.CaptainTyrunandJarydremained behind, organisinghorse care and feed. Sashastretched as she walked,saddlesoreandweary.Rather than entering either

of the large, lakeside tents,the Shields captain led themacross the grass beyond. Onthe right, men were washingclothes and gathering waterfrom the lake. One soldierpassed, laden with tenbulging skins, and grantingevenDamon nomore than acuriousglance.Several men, Sasha saw,

were squatted naked in thechill waters, scrubbingthemselves.Damonshothera

concerned glance. Sashasnorted.Asifshehadn'tseenthatbefore.Ahead, then, Sasha could

seealonefigureontheopen,grassy plain. A light breezecaughtathisblackandsilvercloak, revealing a firm,resolute stance as hecontemplated the walls ofHalleryn before him. Theywere of old, dark stone,perhaps as tall as five men,with battlements on top. It

wasnotanenormousfortress,but Mount Halleryn blockedassaultfromonesideandthelakefromanother.Atributarystream fromMount Hallerynhad been diverted to runbefore the walls, spanned byabridgewhereit ranintothelake. Over the bridge a trailclimbed to thewall'sgate—abigmetalgrille,astallastwomen.Nomorethanathirdofthe town's wall was suitablefor assault and the rear,

lakeside trail would requireanimpossibleattackinsinglefile.The man did not turn

around as Damon, Kesslighand Sasha approached. TheHadrynShieldscaptainhaltedathissideandsaluted.“My Lord,” he said,

“Prince Damon, KesslighCronenverdt and SashandraLenayin.” No “Princess” or“Highness” from this man.Not even, she suspected, a

“M'Lady.”UsynTelgardidnotturnto

greet them. His handsappeared to be folded uponsomething before his waist.His sword, Sasha guessed,considering that his scabbardwas empty. And her heartbeatalittlefaster,recognisingthe significance of thatgesture. “So Prince Damon,”Usyn said then. A youngman's voice, cold and bleak.“I heard that you were

coming.Witheightymen.”“Shortly, more than a

thousand,” Damon saidcurtly.Usyn nodded slowly to

himself, considering. Still hedid not turn around. “And agirl,” he added, with dryirony.His tone did notworkSasha's temper as anotherman's might. That was hottemper. This anger she feltwascold,darkandmenacing.She could enjoy hot anger—

the exhilarating burst oftemper and retaliation. Ofcoldanger,therewasnothingpleasanttobesaid.“YouhaveorderedHadryn

forces onto Taneryn lands,”Damon said, ignoring theremark. “State your businesshere.”Usynfinally turned. Itwas

a pale, youthful face, framedwith the close-trimmed, darkhair of a devout northernVerenthane.Aneight-pointed

star layprominentlyuponhisleathervest,andhisbeltheldgold-handled knives and alarge, engraved horn. Theywere the clothes of a soldierinthefield,yettoSasha'seyethey seemed too wellpolished to be the kit of anhonestsoldier.“Youwouldcommandme,

my Prince?” Usyn saidcoldly. “When Baen-Tar hasignored this Taneryn rabblefor so long? Has let them

breed upon our borders likerats?Many timeswewarnedof this development andBaen-Tar, in all its wisdom,chose not to act. And nowyou would seek to imposecommand? Your timing islacking,sir.”“Baen-Tar has always

commanded here,” Damonreplied. “Baen-Tar alwaysshall. State your businessupon Taneryn lands. I won'taskagain.”

Usyn glared, his nostrilsflaring. He hooked boththumbs into his belt, hissword quivering behind him,impaled in the soft, grassyearth. No doubt Usyn hadthrust his blade into the turfupon first arrivalat thewallsof Halleryn. It was an oldLenaycustomforamanwitha grievance to do so beforethe home of another, theblade remaining until thematterwassettled.Somesuch

oftheoldwayssurvivedevenin the north, even as thenortherners denied anyconnection to Goeren-yai. Itwas “Lenay tradition,” theyclaimed. Sasha remainedunimpressed; the Goeren-yaiwereLenaytradition.“The townsfolk of Gessyl

mistreated some travellingbrothers,” said Usyn. “Myfatherrodetotheirrescue,asthetownsfolkknewhewould.Itwasatrap,myPrince.Lord

Kraylissluredhimthere,withthe express intent to commitmurder.“There was talk of

insurrection in Gessyl.Townsfolk were agitatedabout the coming Rathynal,there were claims that theywouldbemade to fight for alowlands, Verenthane cause.They spoke ill words of theking,my Prince. They spokeof a Verenthane plot againsttheGoeren-yai.LordKrayliss

led them in this treason.Rocks were thrown. Myfather charged the crowd toscatter them, but made noattempt to swing on them,merely to prevent them fromthrowing, as is his right andprivilege.LordKrayliss, alsomounted, charged my fatherfromhisblindsideandkilledhim with a stroke. I wasthere. I saw it happen. Anymanwhoclaimsitdifferentisaliar.”

“What of Gessyl now?”Damon asked, his expressiondark.“Mymenhaveoccupied it

and rounded up the mostprominenttroublemakers…”“Youshallsendamessage

immediately for them todesist,” Damon said sharply.“YourgrievanceiswithLordKrayliss. You have no causeagainst the village folk ofTaneryn.”TheyoungTelgarappeared

to bite back somethingunpleasant. “My Prince,” hesaid then, with heavy irony,“if family Lenayin will notenforceitswillagainstactsofsubversion aimed at Baen-Tar, thenperhapsyoushouldallowusto—”“IpassedthroughPeryson

thewayhere,”Damoncutin,with every sign of losing histemper completely. “I sawtwo score andmore innocentvillagers slaughtered by

raidingHadrynmen…”“With respect, my Prince,

my people have beenreceivingtroublefromraidingTanerynvillagersformonths.Ifyouhaveonlyjustarrived,how can you possibly knowwhoisguiltyandwho…”“Enough,Isay!”Sashahad

never seen Damon so angry.“You shall not attempt tojustifywhat I saw there!Didyousendthem?”Forthefirsttime, Usyn's confidence

appeared to slip, just a little.“Answerthequestion!”“I did not!” A sullen look

creptover the lordling's face.Suddenly,helookednomorethan a pouting,temperamental seventeen.“ThevillagersofHadryncanorganisetheirowndefence!Ifyouhaveaproblemwiththat,dealwithityourself!”“Wedealtwithit,”Damon

said darkly. “We dealt themthirty dead and more. More

shall follow, Hadryn orTaneryn,foranywhocommitwantonmurderinthenameofancientfeuds!”“My father was murdered

by this heathen animal!”Usyn yelled, eyes wide withindignant fury. “The father-in-lawofPrinceKoenyg,whois also my brother! If theauthority of Baen-Tar doesnotdefendmyrighttojustice,then what in all the hells’goodisitfor!”

There was a silence, then,upon the grassy plain by thewide, cold lakeside. Sashafelt rather than heard thegathering presence behind,the creak of a leather belt, afaint rustle of clothing, thecompressionofgrassbeneathheavyboots.Damonstaredatthe younger man, angerduelling with a rare distastethat seemed to sit like acidupon his tongue. Theyounger, paler man glared

back,breathcominghard,hismanner that of oneaccustomed to sudden fits oftemper.“FamilyLenayinwouldbe

nothing without the north!”Usynhissed.“Thekingoweshis throne to our unwaveringsupport! Your father knowsthis,Princeling!Wellthatyoushould learn it too!Well thatyoushouldknowwithwhomyour true loyalties lie!” Thislast with a harsh glare at

Kessligh, acknowledging hispresence for the first time.Theeyes remaineduponhimfor one hard-breathingmoment, wild and whiteabout the rims. Then toSasha, also for the first time,with an even greater hatredthanbefore.“Iservetheking,”Kessligh

saidsimply.“Youserveonlyyourself!”

Usyn spat. “Yourself, yourwhoreandyourgodlessserrin

friends!YourpowerinBaen-Tar grows weak, old man!Thekingno longer listens toyouandyourkind!YoumayhavethoseidiotsinValhananfooled, but you've neverfooledthemenofthenorth—weknowwhatyouare!”“Sure you do,” Kessligh

said with an utterlyunpleasant smile. “I'm thereason you're not speakingCherrovan.”Usyn's hand went to his

belt knife, and Kessligh's tohis own in a blur ofmotion.And Usyn's eyes went widerstill, face draining of anyremaining blood, as ifrealising, with sudden terror,what his temper had nearlybroughthimto.Kessligh's smile grew

wider.Sashahadseenhimhitcrawling insects on a treetrunkfromtenpaceswiththatknife.She decided itwas a good

timetoswingonherheelandcheck the scenebehind.Sureenough,therewereupwardofthirty Hadryn men standingthere, and more gatheringbehind. Some in a state ofpartial dress, others fullyarmed and armoured. Strongmen and tall, as with thesoldiers of all standingcompanies; their pale skinuntouched by any ink quill,their hair trimmed short,sometimes even shaved.

Their eyes were hard andtheir manner unwelcoming.Behind them, she glimpsedmembers of Damon's RoyalGuardcontingenthoveringbythe lakeside tents withevidentalarm.“Forget the knife,”

Kessligh told Usyn then.With all the ease andassurance that one mightexpect from the greatestsoldier in Lenayin. “If whatyousayofyourfather'sdeath

istrue,yourcaseseemsgood.Baen-Tar's justice serveshere.Whateverdisagreementsexist,youshallfindjusticeinPrince Damon, where it iswarranted. Only rememberthis,younglord.Donottryusand do not test our patience.All the north should knowverywellwhat I am capableof.”And he bowed, all good

form and politeness. Sashaswung back long enough to

do likewise. Damon did notbow. He would nod,affirmingly, if Usyn bowedfirst.ButUsynsimplystared,wild-eyedandhateful.AndsoDamonswungonhisheelandwalked, Kessligh and Sashaathissides.The Hadryn men stood

back just enough to let themthrough, but not enough forcomfort or respect. Sashawalked with her right thumbhooked into her belt beside

the knife there, ready for thefast thrustofaclosequartersattack. A man bumped herarm, not moving aside quitein time. She could feel theeyes upon her, roaming overher body. But the RoyalGuardwere close ahead nowas they emerged from thecrowd.“That little fool's a real

worry,”Kesslighmutteredassoon as they were out ofearshot. “His loss has made

himunstable.”“I think he was expecting

Koenyg,”Damonsaiddarkly.“Given that it's Koenyg'sfather-in-law who's beenkilled. IwarnedKoenyg thatUsynwouldtakeitamiss,buthe insisted he was too busywith Rathynal approaching.Wynawasdistraught.”“Poor girl,” Sasha said

sarcastically. “MeetingUsyn,I suddenly see the familyresemblance. The whole

Telgar family's unstable. I'mso thrilled to be related Icouldvomit.”“And I'm sure your

graceful presence shall dowondersforUsyn'sstability,”Kesslighremarked.“You didn't help,” Sasha

retorted, determined to getsome payback for all thetimes he'd accused her ofprovocation.“I thought it best to scare

himalittle,”Kesslighreplied,

the familiar, hard edge tohistone. “He's a bundle of rawimpulses right now, most ofthem aggressive. I appealedto the only raw impulse thatmightgivehimpause.”“What if he thinks you're

bluffing?” Damon asked,casting a wary glance acrossastheywalked.“I don't bluff,” Kessligh

saidgrimly.Damon glanced at Sasha.

Sasha shrugged. “He doesn't

bluff,” she admitted. “Feintsand misleads from time totime,butneverbluffs.”“There's eighty of us

threateningtotakeonseveralthousand of them,” Damonretorted.“Whatisthatifnotabluff?”“Suicide?” Sasha

suggested,raisinganeyebrowatKessligh.Kessligh shook his head.

“It'sastart,”hesaid.

EVENING,ANDTHESETTINGOF

THESUNbehindthemountainstransformed the overcast skyto a deep, ominous red. Thelake seemed ablaze as theywalkedalongitsbank,headedfor the walled town ofHalleryn. The mountainsbehind cast all the land and

lake into shadow, the sunlong since set behind itsruggedpeak.The colourwasmesmerising, and remindedSasha of tales told in theSteltsyn Star, of dark spiritswitheyesthecolouroffire…and she made the spirit signtoherforehead;anunthought,reflexgesture.“Stop that,” Kessligh said

with irritation at her side.Ofall the dinner party, he alonehad eyes more for the town

walls ahead than for the ill-omened sky. “I told you, thecolour is caused when thelowering sun strikes theunderside of the cloudsinstead of the top. And itlookssobrightbecausewe'reinthemountain'sshadow,andit'sreflectingoffthelake.It'svery beautiful, but I tell youthere's nothing otherworldlyaboutit.”“This is a demon sky,”

Jaryd disagreed, staring

upwardashewalked.“FatherUrys in Algery used to tellme about this when I was alad—sometimes at evenings,when the sun god slips intohisnetherworld,thereopensaspace between Loth and ourworld.ThisisallthepowerofLoth spilling free, anddemons with it…there's badthings afoot this night, I canfeelit.”“Aye,” Kessligh said

sourly, “and if you lot don't

cut the superstitious rubbish,I'llbeoneofthem.”They crossed the bridge

above the small stream, thetorches held by the RoyalGuardsmen to the front andrear gusting trails of flame.Ahead, thewalls ofHallerynwerealivewithtorchlightandwhipping, wind-blownbanners. Their party's ownbanners,heldaloftbythetwoguardsmen not wieldingtorches,flutteredandsnapped

abovetheirheads.Inthelightfrom the battlements, Sashacould see the dark shapes ofarchers watching theirapproach.On the far side of the

bridge, she risked a glanceback across the river. TheHadryn camp stretched wideamongthescatteredtreesandfarmhousesof thevalley, theblazeofmanyfiresaflickerinthe cold wind. Another fivehundredmenhadarrivedthat

afternoon, mostly militiafrom Hadryn villages,withouttheheavyarmourandequipment of the HadrynShields, but formidablesoldiers all the same. Wordwas that there were anotherthousand infantry afoot, butdelayedwithout the speed ofcavalry. Sasha eyed themovement atop the torch-litwalls ahead. She greatlydoubted the forces withinwould match what was

buildingoutside.“Usyn will have enough

forces before the walls tocontain any breakout bytomorrow,” she said toKessligh, folding her armstightly within her cloak toguard against the freezingwind.“He'llthendivertforcesabout the lake, and Vassylwill fall. Halleryn's forceswill be trapped, and then arealsiege.”“We can't let it come to

that,” Kessligh replied, eyesalsoscanningthebattlements.His mood was the darkestSasha had seen on this trip.“A siege will drag intoRathynal. Such is preciselywhat your fatherwouldwishavoided.”Some horsemen were

approaching along thelakesideroadahead,thebackwayfromVassyl,movingforthe gates. The tall, metalgrille stood open, but was

doubtless manned to slamshut at amoment's notice. Inthe gathering gloom, thehorsemen looked to beTaneryn militia, long braidsblowing in the wind. Behindthem came several horse-drawn carts, ladenwithwhatSashaguessedwouldbefreshfood. So long as Hallerynheldthebackroadaroundthelake, food supplies wouldstay fresh. So long as theykept theHadrynon theother

sideofthestream,freshwatercould be collected from thelake. But if Usyn decided topressforwardinforce,neithercouldbeguaranteed.“What'swrong?”sheasked

Kessligh then, into thatsolemn, wind-swept silence.Thebloodredskywasfadingnow,deepening to thecolourofcoals inadying fire,oncethe most brilliant heat hadpaled.“I remember this place,”

Kesslighsaidheavily.“Thirtyyears ago.Thewalls had notheld theCherrovan then.Wetook it back after they'd heldthe place for a week. Insidethewallswefound…”andhegrimaced, unwilling tocomplete the sentence. Hegazed away across therumpled,darkeningsurfaceofthe lake. Sasha stared at himforamoment.Kesslighrarelydisplayed such emotionrecounting his time in the

GreatWar.Thespiritsofthisplace must surely have beenunsettled, for all the bloodthathadbeenspilthere.She made the spirit sign

again, unable to stop herself.This time, Kessligh did notappeartonotice.Halleryn's gate loomed

ahead, alive with burningtorcheswithinthearchway.“Whoapproaches?”camea

cryfromthebattlements,andtheyhaltedontheroad.

“Prince Damon Lenayin!”a Royal Guardsman yelledup, with extra volume to beheardabovetheloudflappingof green and black Tanerynbanners overhead. “YuanKessligh Cronenverdt!M'Lady Sashandra Lenayin!Master Jaryd Nyvar ofTyree!”Along the walls to either

side, many faces peereddown,someleaningoutforabetterview.Itwasoneofthe

more dramaticannouncements any arrivalcould have declared. Aformality,ofcourse,asthey'dbeeninvited.“The Great Lord Krayliss

of Taneryn grants youwelcome!” came the calldown from the battlements.“Passwithinandbeatpeace,for you are within theprotection and hospitality oftheGreatLordofTaneryn!”They passed beneath the

portcullis into Halleryn townitself. The main street aheadwas lined with buildings ofstonebasewithwoodenwallsand rooftops, as was thefashion of northern towns.AsoldierofobviousGoeren-yaiappearance arrived beforethem and beckoned them tofollow. The road wascobbled, rare for a Lenaytown, but then, stoneworkwas the tradition in theseparts.And therewere drains,

Sasha saw as they walked,leadingtowhatshepresumedwere underground outflows.God forbid they led into thepristine lake. She couldn'timagine any Goeren-yaitownshipallowingthat.Morelikelyariverinflowwasheditsomeplace outside the wallstobeburiedorcompostedforfarm use…another serrininnovation that the Goeren-yai had adopted manycenturiesago.

The streets of Hallerynweremostly empty and unlitby any street lamp or torch.Sasha could not help butthink the town dank andgloomy, with nary a tree tobreak themonotony of stoneandcobbles.Thecentralroadslopedupwarduntilitopenedon a broad, paved courtyardbusy with soldiers. Newarrivals were dismountingandleadingtheirhorsestothestables on the right. Men

gathered in the courtyardabout makeshift ovens andthe smell of cooking waftedintheair.Attention turned as the

royal party crossed thecourtyard, somemen comingto their feet, more fromcuriosity than respect. Heretoo,therewaslittlewarmthtogreet aprince and, in severalquarters, even some coarselaughter at awhispered joke.Then, halfway across, there

came a new murmursweeping through thosewatching…“Cronenverdt!Cronenverdt!”…andsuddenlyall men were standing andpressing forward to watch,openmouthed andincredulous.Overlooking the courtyard

wasatallkeepofstonewallsand overlooking arches. Thekeep's grand wooden doorswerethrustasidebyapairofguards as the royal party

approached, and theyentereda stone hallway lined withold,fadedtapestriesandalivewith the dancing flame ofensconced torches. Theirguide led them up a broadstone staircase to the left,where they found themselvesemerging from the floor of agreatclansman'shall.All was stone, but for the

tall windows in the walls.Central pillars made rows toeither side of the very long,

centraltable,laidforserving.Light came from flamingtorches mounted to theceiling pillars, and a grand,carved chair dominated thetable's far end. About thepillars, standing with swordsat the hip and mugs in theirhands, were numerousGoeren-yai warriors ofTaneryn—long-haired,tattooed,beringedandproud.All paused in conversationnowandturnedtolookasthe

Royal Guard extinguishedtheir torches and parted topresenttheirfourcharges.Damon walked forward,

surveying the array of hardfaces that confronted him.Sasha remained at Kessligh'sside…and realised thatDamon, to the best of herknowledge, had never metLord Krayliss and did notknow what he looked like.Shescannedthefacesherself,searching.

“Thisisameetingofwar!”announced oneman, tall andbroadwithlonghairflowing,a strong moustache trimmedin two linesoneither sideofhis mouth. His hard eyeswere fixed upon Sasha withevident anger. “There hasnever been a woman presentat a Goeren-yai council ofwar, and there never shallbe!”Sasha glared in return.

Kesslighhookedathumbinto

his belt and repressed agrimace that was somewherebetween a wince and asarcastic smile. “Looks likedinnertome,”heremarked.“Yuan Kessligh,” growled

theman.“Youwalk into thishall with more honour, andsoaked in the blood of moreenemies, thanmightanymanin Lenayin. Do not tarnishthathonour, sir,bybetrayingthehonourofTanerynanditschosenmen.”

Kessligh strolled forwardto Damon's side, and then astep beyond, gazing about atthe gathering as he mighttypically consider a strangeclutch of chickens—withthoughtful, off-handedcuriosity. To Sasha, hismanner and poise seemednothingbut familiar.Andyetthe armed and braidedstrongmen of Tanerynseemed to flinchbackward—not in steps taken, but in

posture, a slight lowering ofthe eyes here, a defensivefolding of the arms there.Kessligh stood no taller thanmost, and somewhat slimmerthan some, his unkempt hairstreakedwithgrey,hispersonlacking any martialadornment save the blade athis back. And yet somehow,beforewarriors,noblesandaprince, he dominated theroom.“Yourname,sir?”Kessligh

asked the angered man, ascalmlyasever.“Yuan Cassyl Rathan of

Dessyd village,” the manreplied, with a proud lift ofhischin.“A first thing, Yuan

Cassyl.” Meeting the man'sgaze with a firm stare. “Myhonour ismine.Notyours. Itismine todowithas Iwish.Your preferences meannothingtome.Likewiseyourhonour is yours. My actions

havenobearinguponit.Onlyyou can gain honour, YuanCassyl. Or lose it, by yourdeeds.”Therewasabriefpause,to

allow for a collective rumbleof approval to follow, withsomenoddingofheads.Foragreatwarriortotalkofsuchathingashonour,beforesuchagathering,atsuchatime,wasa serious matter indeed. Atsuch times, men of greatimportlistenedhard.

“A second thing—youclaim that your honourdepends upon adherence tocertain ancient traditions. Idon'tcare.”Anutterhushhadfilledthehall,brokenonlybythe faint, rippling sound offlaming torches above. “Icannot afford to care. I amNasi-Keth.Yourwaysarenotmy ways. I respect themnonetheless.Thirtyyearsago,themenofthisplacesworeasimilar, undying respect to

me and my ways, howeverstrange they found them.Myways include an uma—astudent, if you will—whoremains by my side to learnas best I can teach. I wouldnever require you to changeyour ways, Yuan Cassyl ofDessyd village, were you toenter my house and myhospitality. It would bedishonourableofme.Andyetnow, you ask me to be likeyou—Goeren-yai,whichIam

not.”“A rider came today from

Perys,” came a new voice,deep and powerful. “Hewitnessed the great deedsthere of our guests and thewarriorsofTyree,againstthebloody-handed Hadryn. Healso claimed that the uma ofYuan Kessligh was therepossessed by the Synnich,and in sucha state slewnineHadryn warriors by her ownhandandtastedtheirblood.”

Therewasaflurryofspiritsigns across the hall and amurmuringofoaths.Thenthespeakeremergedfrombehindastonepillar.Heboreathick,wildmaneofdarkhairandavast, bushy black beard.Grim, dark eyes peered froma profusion of strong yetintricate tattoos that maskedthe left side of his face. Along,singletri-braidfellclearfrom the rest, to lieupon theright of his jaw. He walked

slowly forward in heavyboots and a leather vestbeneath a cloakofgreenandblack Taneryn colours. LordKrayliss ofTaneryn, the soleGoeren-yai great lord ofLenayin.“The spirit men all agree

there have been omens,”Krayliss continued, his eyesstill fixed on Kessligh. Thesword that swung from hiship was a monster, althoughto judge from the breadth of

the man's shoulders, Sashareckoned it might be aboutthecorrectsizeforhim.“Thesky tonight was red,foretelling of much blood tobeshed…orofthecomingofagreatpower.Perhapsthatisyou,YuanKessligh?Oryouruma?”“I am not a man to judge

such things, Lord Krayliss,”Kessligh replied, shrewdly.“If you wish a recounting,best that you ask her

yourself.”Krayliss stopped at the

forefront of his gathering,assortedvillageheadmenandrespected warriors fromacrossTaneryn. Followers ofKrayliss, at least.Not all themen of Taneryn could bedescribed as such.But some,facing Hadryn aggression,might rally to his sidenonetheless.“YuanCassylmakesa fair

observation,” he rumbled,

meatythumbstuckedintohisbroad leather belt. “Womenare not welcome at Goeren-yai councils ofwar. It is notourway.”“If my ways are not

welcome here,” saidKessligh, “then I shall leave.Doyourevokeyourpreviousinvitation?” Their stareslocked.Acontestofwills,thestubborn versus thedisciplined. The bluntinstrument versus the sharp.

A lord never revoked aninvitation. Kessligh haddrawn the line, somewhatcloser toLordKrayliss's toesthanmostmenwoulddare.“Girl!” Krayliss barked

then,with awry twist of hislips. “Come forward! Stepwherewecanseeyou!”Sasha cast her cloak away

from her left shoulder,exposing the hilt of hersword, andmoved quietly toKessligh's side. It was an

effort not to meet Krayliss'seyes, but she kept her gazedemurely on his broad chest,asagoodGoeren-yaimaidenshould among such mightywarriors. Surrounding her,some men stared indispleasure. Others withintent curiosity. And somewith mouths smirking inimitation of their lord, as ifthinking the matter somehugejest.“So…” rumbled Krayliss,

raking her from head to toewith his gaze. “The girlwhowas once a princess. Somemen still call you that, dotheynot?”“ThemenofLenayinshall

do as they will, my Lord,”Sasha replied, provokingsome laughter at that truism.“It is no longer my title, Iceased to be princesswhen IleftBaen-Tar.”“The bonds of blood are

deeper thanmere titles,girl,”

said Krayliss. Some of thesmirking ceased at thatutterance. The lord's eyesbore deeper. Sasha's instinctwas to meet challenge withchallenge. The effort to keephereyesloweredwasenoughto bring sweat to her brow.“These tales fromPerys.Therider who gave them wasyoung and with little hairbetween his legs…much likeourMasterJarydhere.”Aroaroflaughterfromthe

gathered men. Sasharepressed a retort withdifficulty. Sometimes, in herlove of the Goeren-yai, sheforgotwhyshedislikedLordKrayliss so greatly.Now sheremembered.“I did not slay ninemen,”

shesaidtightly.“Ha,” said one village

headman, contemptuously,“asIsaid.JustasIsaid.”“Islewfour.”Deathly silence across the

hall. “You witnessed thisdeed?” Krayliss askedKessligh.“Not I,” said Kessligh. “I

saw the bodies in theaftermath.”“I saw it!” called Jaryd to

thegroup,proudly.“Iwasnotten paces from the lastwhenhe fell! All four fell so fastandsoclosethatIhadbarelyyelled warning of the first,whenthelasthadfallenuponhiscorpse!Itwasamasterful

display and I pity thosewhowerenottheretoseeit!Evenas Verenthane, I swear Icould see the mark of yourspirits in the strokes of herblade!”Sasha swore beneath her

breath, through clenchedteeth.Stupid,ignorant,machoyoung fool.Ohhow shewasgoing to kick his backsidewhen theywereoutsideoncemore…“You make great claims,

young Master,” growledKrayliss, with considerabledispleasure. “What does aVerenthane know of suchthings? On what authoritydoes a follower of thelowlands order claimknowledge of the ancientspirits?”“I was there, my Lord,”

Jaryd retorted with all toolittle fear. Did he knowwhohe faced? Challenging LordKrayliss within his own hall

wasnotthesameasdefeatingwooden swords attournaments. In these parts,men fought to kill, not forgames. “I have eyes. I tellyouonlywhatIsaw.”“Even if true, it proves

nothing!” retorted anotherman, from the far sideof thelong table. “The spirits arenot guides for women! Theyneverhavebeen!”“Spirits alone were never

mentioned,”saidanother,low

and soft, as if fearing thepresenceofunspoken,unseenpower. “Only the Synnichwasmentioned.”There was about the room

another flurry of spirit signsandthemutteringofoaths.Insome faces now, there wasreal fear. Krayliss surveyedthe commotion with a dark,furrowedstare.“I don't believe her!”

pronounced another. “Themen of Hadryn are bastards,

yet their swordsmanship isunquestioned! Perhaps onlythe smallest handful of mencould defeat so many! Nowoman has such skill with ablade to take four in themanner described! Only awoman of Saalshen couldmanage such a feat, and agreatoneatthat!”“Exactly!” retorted

another. “A serrin womancould manage such a featbecause the serrin walk with

thespirits!”An uproar followed, men

shouting argument andcounterargument at close,heated range. In severalquarters, pushing broke out,quickly separated by coolerheadsbeforeitcouldescalate.To Sasha's left, Damon wasstaring about in disbelief. Toher right, Kessligh simplyfolded his arms and waited,asmany timeshehadwaitedfor a much younger

Sashandra Lenayin to ceaseher raging tempers beforeinsisting just as firmly upontheverythingthathadcausedthem. Sasha simply watchedLord Krayliss, unafraid nowofmeetinghisgaze.Kraylissstared back, unmoved withinthecommotion.Perhaps he expected her

gazetodrop.AngerburnedinSasha's stare. A warning,when the others were notlooking.AnditwasKrayliss's

eyesthatwidened,insurpriseandanger,fromthepowerofthatmeeting.“Enough!” he yelled, a

broad fist held high, and theclamoureasedasquicklyasithad begun. “Such debatesshouldwait fora laterhour,”he said darkly. “We haveother business to attend to.Prince Damon rides to servethejusticeofBaen-Tar.Littleenough hope do we of theGoeren-yaihaveinthejustice

ofVerenthanekings…”It was said with great

sarcasm and brought a harshlaugh from many of thosesurrounding.“He comes to us with a

mind full of questions!”Krayliss announced, inlouder,defiantly jovial tones.“Hewishestoknowthecauseof our old friend LordRashyd's death, and thereason his son stands uponourgatewithhisbladeinthe

turf, stamping his littletempertantrumnowthatpapais no longer about to spankhisskinnybackside!”Another laugh from the

men and some mugs wereraised in salute. KraylissturnedtoDamonwithdefiantconfidence.“Yes,IslewLordRashyd! His priests came toharass the Gessyl townsfolkand I rode to see them off!Rashyd crossed our borderuninvited and confronted us!

He spurred his horse againstmypeopleandIslewhimforhis insolence! And what,Prince of Lenayin, shall youdoaboutit?”“Takeyou toBaen-Tar for

a judgment at the king'spleasure,” Damon replied.Sasha blinked at Damon,unable to believe she'd heardsuch a decisive statement, socoolly delivered, in the faceof such defiance. For amoment, the entire hall

seemed hushed with similarsurprise.Krayliss threw back his

head and laughed. “Theyoung prince has some ballsafter all!” he roared, to aneruption of laughter thatshook the ceiling. “And howdo you propose to achievethis monumental feat, youngLenayin?”“Ishallawaitthearrivalof

my line companies,” Damonsaid icily, “andwe shall join

forces with the Hadryn.Shouldyou refuse to complywith my order, we shall killyouall.”Another silence followed.

Sasha's stomach tried rapidlyto tie itself in knots, to hergreatdispleasure.Therewasafine line,wheremostmenofher experience wereconcerned,betweenballsandstupidity. Only Kesslighcould be reliably expected tofind that precarious balance

withconsistency.“My father's law is quite

clear,” Damon continued.“Lord Rashyd deserved acensure for his conduct. Hedid not deserve death. Yourpunishment can only bedecided by the king himself,uponafullpresentationofthefacts.My task, I see now, isto take you there within thecustodyofthecrown.Shouldyourefuse,yourlifeisforfeit.I therefore suggest, Lord of

Taneryn, that you do notrefuse. For the sake of yourpeople.”Lord Krayliss's already

vast girth seemed to swelleven larger with rage. “Andfrom what time have theVerenthanes of Baen-Tarcared for the people ofTaneryn?” he snarled, bushyeyebrows and beard seemingto bristle like a great wildanimal. “Even now the kingcalls a great Rathynal, to

force his tame Verenthanelords to approve his decisionto march to war in thelowlands! A war in theBacosh,withwhomwe havenointerestwhatsoever!AwarforVerenthanecausesandtheprofitoflowlandsmerchants!WithsuchdotheVerenthanesofthetownsandcitiesseektoprotect their ill-gottenwealthand prestige—with the bloodof poor Goeren-yai farmerswhohave no interest in your

foreign causes and falsetitles!“Who but me will speak

for theGoeren-yai?Who butme is left to speak?” Heroared to theassembledmen.“It was royal Verenthaneslike this one who appointedonly Verenthane lords to theprovinces! It was they whobelittled us, scattered us,patronised and left us to ourfates at the hands of Hadryntyrants! Of all the Udalyn

descendants,Iamthegreatestof rank and the greatest ofhonour! Who but me willspeakforthetrue,theancient,the rightful people ofLenayin!”The roar that followed

paled all those previous, adeafening thunder thatthreatened to split Sasha'sears. There followed theheavy, rhythmic stamping ofboots on flagstones,accompanied by the hard

clapping of hands. Kraylisssurveyedhisnewcommotion,wipinghisbeardofthespittlethat now hung there, residueof his outburst. Pride burnedinhiseyes,vainandspiteful.This was a man, Sasha sawonly too well, who wasprepared todie forhiscause.No matter how many othershetookwithhimtohispyre.

“Entertaining,” Sasharemarked as they walkedfrom beneath the gates ofHalleryn. “Nothing like a bitof open hostility to developtheappetite.”“I've had worse meals,”

Damon muttered, tugging onhisridingglovesforwarmth.“When?” Sasha asked,

pullinghercloakmorefirmlyabouther.“Anytime someone thinks

it a grand idea to get me

togetherwithMarydBanysofRanash,andhermother.”Sashafrownedat that.The

sound of thewind above thevast, moonless dark of thelakeheldaneeriepower.Yet,for all the frozen chill of theopen night, it was a reliefindeed to be free of that halland the dark stares andmuttered, suspiciousconversation about the longtable. “Maryd is the eldestdaughter?”sheasked.

Damongruntedinreply.“I've made her

acquaintance,” Jarydremarked helpfully. He'dbeen attempting to appearuntroubled all night but, toSasha's eye, he lookedunsettled. For a young manpreviouslyuninterestedinthelordly affairs of Lenayin,suchencountersweresurelyalot to digest. “She's verypretty, think you not, PrinceDamon?”

“Aye,she'spretty,”Damonmuttered. “The wits of achicken and the charm of aleech,butshe'spretty.Dinnerwith Krayliss was a pleasantaffair compared to that.”Sasha shotKessligh a glanceand could have sworn shesawhimsmile.“So Father wishes you to

marry a Ranash girl?” Sashaquestioned further, withconsiderable distaste. “Anortherner?”

“Koenyg's idea,” Damonsaid, gazing off across thedark lake as the roadapproachedtheshore.“Two northern sisters-in-

law,” Sasha said withdispleasure. “I'm not sure Icouldstandit.WynaTelgarisenough.”“Poor girl,” Damon

retorted. “Youwouldn't havetoshareherbedfortherestofyour life, you've nothing tocomplainabout.”

“Ithinkwemustbetalkingof two different MarydBanyses,” Jaryd saidquizzically. “The girl Imeanis sweet-faced, black-hairedwith blue eyes and a fullbosom…”“And what interesting

topics have you discussedwith her, Master Jaryd?”Damon asked. “Have youspentmorethanaheartbeatinher presence? Or merelyadmired her bosom from

afar?”“It's a very nice bosom,

YourHighness.”“Master Jaryd nevermet a

bosomwithwhichhecouldn'thold a conversation,” saidSashawithasidewaysglance.Jaryd grinned. “Yours is

disappointinglyquiet.”“You just haven't asked it

the right questions.” Jarydlaughed. “These treaties ofmarriage are ludicrous,”Sasha continued. “Ranash

will obey the throne simplybecause their lord's daughtershares a prince's bed?Hadryn's behaviour hasbarelychangedsinceKoenygmarried Wyna…and littleDany now gives them aHadryn in the line ofsuccession.”“Theotherlordswillnotbe

happy if I marry anothernorthern girl,” said Damon.Her brother's eyes werejoyless in the wind-blown

torchlight. Damon thepetulant, he'd been calledbefore.Lately, however, he'dbeenDamon the grim. “Thisline of princes was going tobe a rich vein to be mined,but Krystoff died andWylfred now thinks to taketheholyvows,andsuddenly,with Koenyg wedded, fiveavailable princes are onlytwo. It's justme andMyklasleft, and I fear thecompetitionwillbefierce.”

“It's the creepingfeudalisation of Lenayin,”saidKessligh.Jaryd frowned. “The

what?”“Before King Soros,” said

Kessligh, “there were nolords and titles, justchieftains, clans and regionalallegiances that split intowarfareasoftenastheycametogether. But Soros didn'tonly bring the gods from thelowlands, he also brought

nobility,landtitlesandalltherest. He thought he wasbringing civilisation to thebarbarians. Lowlandscivilisation. Now, the lordssee that their powers do notmatchthoseoftheirlowlandscousins and they push formore. In the name ofcivilisation,ofcourse.”“It'll never work,” Sasha

saidfirmly.“LordAynsfarofNeyshtrieditjustafewyearsago, brought a hundred hire-

swordsfromthelowlandsanddeclared himself ruler of his‘ancestrallands’.ButGoeren-yai came from near and far,killed his hire-swords andtook his head. No man orwoman of Lenayin will beanyone'sserf—itmightbethelowlandsway,butnothere.”“You're talking of the

murder of Lord Aynsfar!”Jaryd realised, suddenlyaghast. “How can you…howcan you approve of that

barbarity? They tied himdownand tookhis limbsonejointatatimeuntil…”“Ihearditwasaswiftblow

to the neck,” Sashainterrupted, turning to walkbackward on the undulatinggrass, facing him. “I alsoheard that he was warnedrepeatedly, but gave onlythreats in return. Do thelowlandswaysappealtoyou,Jaryd? Would you like toinheritlandsforyourfamily?

Allowminorlordstolevytheroyaltaxinsteadoftheking?”Jaryd gave a protesting

smile,butDamon'seyeswerenow on him as well, andcurious. “I…I hadn't given itthat much thought…but, Imean, what's the harm?Lowlandscustomsworkverywelland…”“Inthelowlandstheywork

well,”saidDamon.“No harm?” Sasha added,

incredulously. “Would you

like to be ruled by asuccession of lords, ladiesand knights even before weget to Baen-Tar royalty? Itwasagreatenoughfeattogetordinary Lenays to swearallegiance to one king inBaen-Tar,you'daddall theseotherfoolsontopofthatandexpectthemtoacceptit?”“But…” Jaryd was

flusterednow.Sashadoubtedhe'd ever been challenged tojustify his own privilege

before in his life. “But thenoble families already haveauthority over theirregions…”“Horse shit,” said Sasha.

“The nobles derive theirauthority from the king andfrom each other, and that'sonly if they pray to thelowlandsgodsandhaveloadsand loads ofmoney to beginwith. No one ever asked therural folk, Jaryd. In theireyes, the nobility is just

another strange littleclan, allinterbred and foreign, andnothingtodowiththeirdailylives.“Theypaytaxestotheking

becausehe'stheking,andthesmall tax to the provinciallords because they're theking's men, and because itoccasionally does some goodwith roads and irrigationchannels and bridges and thelike.Therestofthemarejustdogs around the dinner table

as far as the villagers areconcerned, whining forscraps.”“But a noble lord offers

protection to his people withhisforces!”Jarydprotested.“In the Bacosh, they use

armies paid for by thepeasants’ coin tomurder andterrorise them,” Sasha saidfirmly, still walkingbackward.“IntheBacosh,theordinaryfolkhaveneithertheweaponsnortheskillstofight

back. Lenayin is vastlydifferent. They don't needyour protection, Jaryd, andthey certainly don't want it,andthey'llfightyoutoothandnail if you try to impose ituponthem.”She nearly spoiled her

speechbytrippingonunevenground, stumbling to recoverher balance. “Just…please,”sheadded,skippingsideways,“asafavourtome,lookaboutyouonthisride.Talktoyour

low-ranked men. Insist theybe honest with you. It's notonly sad that you shouldmisunderstand your ownpeople,it'sdangerous.”They crossed the wooden

bridgeoncemore,theHadryncamp laid before them, aflickering line of campfiresandshadowyactivity.“My Lords,” said one of

the Royal Guards as theyapproached the main line oftents, drawing their attention

forward.Risingfromthelightof a large campfire were asmall cluster of well-dressedHadryn men, buckles andclasps gleaming in thefirelight. They strodeforward, a wall of weaponryandself-importance.“Did your negotiations go

well, Prince Damon?” camethe loud voice of UsynTelgar. Some of his menlaughed with ugly humour.“Negotiation,”inthenorthern

tongues, had never been anhonourableword.Itreekedofcompromise and cowardice.TheRoyalGuardstoppedandparted, Damon comingforwardtoconfronttheyoungTelgardirectly.“Well enough,” Damon

said. “Did you wish to raisesomematterwithme?”“Yoursister,” said another

man, with great sarcasm,“appears to claim the title ofsaviour of the Goeren-yai!”

Thenewspeakerwasdressedin the travelling finery ofnorthernnobility,short-hairedwith a little, trimmed goatee.He'd been drinking, Sashajudged. They all had. “Amessage arrived from Perysjust now, apparently sheinflicted great carnage therein the nameof pagan spirits!These claims are an insultand, in the name of thedevout House of Varan, Idemandanapology!”

“You'll get nothing,”Damon replied. “My sister isnotresponsiblefortheclaimsothers make. I suggest,MasterFarysVaran, thatyoudonotraiseyourvoiceinherdirectionagain.”“Pah!” Farys spat, with a

blazeofanger.“Sheceasedtobe a Verenthane princesswhenshe leftBaen-Tar!Youhave no brotherly claim onher honour, Prince of Baen-Tar! These pagan lies

dishonourthenamesofbraveHadrynwarriors who die forthe honour of their gods!Donot defend her, sir! Shecomes here upon our landsand she has the temerity toclaim victories overVerenthane warriors afterjoining forces with barbarianscum to celebrate theirdeaths!”“Your lands, Master

Farys?” Damon replied,darkly furious. “We stand

upon the lands of Taneryn.Doyouclaimthem?”Sasha's gaze ran along the

line of Hadryn faces. All,clearly,wereofnobleHadrynfamilies. Their ages varied,from hot-headed youngsters,to cold-eyed, calculatingelders. Sasha wondered, herheart assuming a familiar,unpleasant rhythm, if they'dput Master Farys up to it.There were an increasingnumber of armed men

gatheringbehindtowatch.“Weclaimnolands,”Usyn

Telgar said coldly, his facestrained as thoughwithholding some greatoutburst. “Weclaimonly thesatisfaction of avenging ourlord…”“I claim more!” shouted

Master Farys, steppingforward to thrustanaccusingfingerpastDamon's shoulderat Sasha…and Sasha notedthe silver-haired man at

Farys's side give a cold,satisfiedsmileattheoutburst.Farys'seyeswereblazing,hisface flushed red. “I demandan apology from this falseprincess! The honour ofHadryn has been slighted! Ifit were not enough that thegod-fearing men of Lenayinhad to suffer the insult of acowardly, woman-chasing,pagan-loving fool of an heirnamedKrystoffforsolong,isit now our fate thatwemust

sufferhissister's—”Sasha snapped and

abruptly strode forward witha hand moving to hershoulder. Kessligh grabbedher arm, but she smacked itaway with her other hand,spinning clear to draw herblade as weapons rang clearin the night air all around.Before any could move tostrike, Sasha drew back herarm and hurled the swordpoint-firstintotheturfbefore

MasterFarys'sfeet.Allfroze,staringatthequiveringblade.“Thisdawn,MasterFarys,”

Sasha said icily, “I challengeyoutodefendyourhonour.”For a long moment, there

was only the shudderingwhistle of the wind and theflapping of banners. ThenFarys laughed, high andslightly hysterical. “Youchallenge me to a duel?”Disbelievingly. “I cannotfightawoman!”

“Then you are a coward!”Sashasnarled.Farys turned pure white,

his newly drawn bladetremblingwithinhishands.“Ishouldstrikeyoudownwhereyoustand,whore!”“With your guards and

friends tobackyour flanks?”Sasha said contemptuously.“Need you so muchassistance to defeat a singlegirl?” Farys's mouth workedopenandclosed in soundless

fury. “No answer? Will younot accept? Snivelling,whining, bed-wettingcoward?”Farys's clenched teeth

partedandhe letout agreat,shuddering roar…yet did notadvance. Sasha knew, fromthe darting eyes of theHadryn before her, thatKessligh was close at herback,bladeattheready.Thatalone would make even thebravest, angriest, drunkest

warriorthinktwice.“I accept!” Farys bit out,

hoarse with effort.“Tomorrow at dawn, the liesandmyths of the Goeren-yaiprincessdie!”The silver-haired man at

Farys's shoulder placed ahandupontheyoungerman'sarm, lowering his weaponwith a final look of coldsatisfaction.Farys'stremblinghand lowered and he thrustpast his companions toward

thecampfire.Allabout,therecame the sound of slidingsteel as blades retreated intosheaths, the line of Hadrynnobility fading back, theirdeparting expressions bothangryandsmug.“Sasha?” Damon said

cautiously, stepping forwardto stand at her side as sheretrieved her sword from theturf, andwiped dirt from theend. “Sasha, what did youjustdo?”

“I defended Krystoff'shonour,” Sasha said shortly.Her heart was beating hard,but not with the feveredthumping of fear orexcitement. This was colder,morecalculating.Damonjuststared at her, greatly pained.And it occurred to Sashathen, with only a mildsurprise,thathefearedforherlife.“Sasha, that was Farys

Varan, son of Udys Varan!

He's…he'sknownbyalltobeone of Hadryn's finestswordsmen…”“Forget it,” Kessligh said

grimly, taking a place atSasha's side, eyeing theretreating Hadryn withcalculation.“Farys'sacorpse.It's what happens after he'sdeadthatworriesme.”Sasha could hear the hard

displeasure in his voice. Shedidn't care. When the furycaughtherlikethis,sherarely

did.

Camp that night was anabandonedbarnonthevalleyfloor.Sashasatonahaybale,herback toonecornerof thebarn's outer wall, where itwould shelter her from thewind. On the grass nearby,there were many sheephuddled—Sasha knew onlybecause of the occasional,

restlessbleating, theirwoollyshapesmostlyinvisibleinthedarkness. She gazed at thestars for a long, long time,thinking of many things, yetofnothinginparticular.Sleepseemedfaraway.Adarkshadowapproached

soundlessly to her left, fromover by the barn's mouth.There was just enough lightforhertomakeoutKessligh'sfamiliar outline, evenwrapped in heavy cloak and

blanket. He settled onto thehaybaleathersidewithoutaword. For a while they sattogether,umananduma,andgazedatthestars.“It's past time for my

watch,”Kesslighsaidthen.“I won't sleep,” Sasha

replied.“Imightaswell takeanother watch if I'm to stayawake.”“The surest way not to

sleep is not to try,”Kesslighremarked. “Meditate. I slept

wellenoughduringthewarinfull knowledge that I wouldfight the next day. Youshouldmanage.”“Probably.”Somehow, she

just couldn't manage theenergy for one of theircustomary arguments oftechniqueandmethod.“Sasha,” Kessligh said

then,with the note of amanabouttobeginsomething…“I don't know what else I

could have done,” Sasha cut

him off, tiredly. “There arelines to be drawn. In thisland, respect is everything,andtotoleratesuchdisrespectis to invite our enemies toattack us. Master Faryscrossed the line. The northcannot be allowed to thinktheir Lenay enemies will notfight back, otherwise theywill continue to push andpush,andsooneverygroupinthe land that does not agreewith their bigoted ways will

find themselves underattack.”“I agree,” said Kessligh.

Sashaturnedherheadagainstthe wooden barn wall andgazed at the dark outline ofhis face. “I blamemyself, inpart.Butthewayoftheumanis not the way of a parent. Icannot dictate your path toyou, I can only help you tofindyourown.“And I have seen this

coming for a long time. I've

warned you, haven't I?”Glancingacrossather,afaintmotioninthedark.“Iwarnedyou of consequences shouldyou continue your attractiontotheGoeren-yaisoopenly.Itoldyou theoffence itwouldcause, here in the north inparticular. But perhaps, likesomanythings, itwasmeanttobe.”Sasha frowned. “That

doesn't sound like serrinphilosophy. That sounds

fatalistic.”Kessligh shrugged. “I am

human,afterall.Butthenitisserrinphilosophy,too.Lifeisa battle, Sasha.All existenceis in conflict. We fight theelements, we fight ourconsciences, we fight thelimitations and eventualmortality of our bodies. Allthings happen by conflict, ofone sort or another. Theserrin have long recognisedthisfact.Once,longago,they

foughtamongstthemselvesaswe did. But then, havingaccepted the inescapablereality of conflict, they setthemselves toward findingways of living with it andnegating its worstconsequences.”He sighed, softly, and

resettledhisshouldersagainstthe hard barn wall, seekingbetterposture.“Itwasalwaysgoing to be trouble, Sasha.Choosing you for my uma.”

Sasha'seyesstrainedtomakeouthisexpression.“Iknewitthen,andIknowitnow.ButIcouldmakenootherchoice.Iknewthechoicewouldcauseconflict, but sometimes, aforest fire brings new life,and from bloodshed canspring renewal. Suchmattersare not always ours todecide.”“Renewal,” Sasha

murmured. “That's aGoeren-yaiphilosophy.”

“Warlike cultures alwaysbelieve in renewal,”Kesslighreplied. “Theyhave to.”Andthen, before she couldrespond…“Sasha, I'm nothappy thatyouchosea fight.I sympathise with yourreasons, but you are far tooimportant to be riskingyourself in such a way.Important to your role asuma, and important to mepersonally.“However, what's done is

done.AndIknowyou,Sasha.You cannot sleep becauseyou feel compassion. Evenfor a thug like Farys Varan,you feel compassion becauseyou know your skills utterlyoutclass his. I know becauseI've faced the same. Whenyour opponent has so littlechance, it feels like murder,and then youmust face yourconscience.”He reached from beneath

his blanket and clasped her

shoulder with one firm,sword-hardened hand. “Feelno pity for him, Sasha.Onlyyou can cause your defeattomorrow morning. Asskilled as you are, anyhesitation, any indecisionagainst a man of his talentswill surely cost your life.Aslong as you remain hathaal,he cannot touch you. Buthathaal requires totalconcentration and technicalperfection. In that way, he

actually hasmore leeway forerrorthanyou.Hefightswithstrength and strength isalways strong, even whenimperfectly applied. Forsvaalverd, strength comesfrom the application itself.Should the application fail,you shall lose not onlytechnique, but strength aswell.”“I know,” Sasha

murmured.“Iknowthat.Theedgeisfine,evenagainstmy

opponents in the Baerlyntraining hall. At my best,even the best of them is nochance against me. When Ifight distracted, or withoutfull concentration, I comehomeblackandblue.But…”and she took a deep,shuddering lungful of coldair,“…youknowmymoods.I cannot sustain one emotionfor any long period. Andnow,asmuchasIhatedFarysatthetime,andstillhatehim

now…itisdifficulttosustain.That'sall.”“You hold the Hadryn

responsible for Krystoff'sdeath,” Kessligh remindedher.Sasha nodded. “I do,” she

murmured.“Butitwasnotbytheirownhands.ItwasnotbyFarys's hand.” A flash ofmemory…apriestatthedoorto the tuition room. Musicallessons—thepiccolopipe,noless. A grave, sombre man,

kneeling at Sasha's side.Dawning trepidation andterror. “They misinformedhim as to the size of theCherrovan raiding party.They knew he would chargeinandbedefeatedbysuperiornumbers. Once, I thought Icould kill every man inHadrynforthattreachery.Butnow…”Shebrokeoff,unabletofinishthesentence.Alumpgrew in her throat. For amoment, there was only the

silenceofthevast,coldnight.“Perhaps I don't love him

enough,” Sasha whispered.The piccolo pipe, falling tothe floor. Breaking. “Hewasmy only true friend. He hadfaith inmewhennooneelsewould. Idreamedofduellingwith Hadryn men forvengeance for many years. Ishould not be having thesedoubts. If I'd truly lovedKrystoff, I'd kill Farys anddanceonhiscorpse.”

“Dreaming is easy,” saidKessligh.“Killingishard.”“It shouldn't be,” Sasha

said. “Not if you believe inthe cause.” She gazed at heruman,hereyeshurting.“Howdid you do it? You've killedsomany. How do you do it,andnotdoubt?”“Ialwaysdoubt,”Kessligh

replied, with as close asSasha had ever heard himcometoagentletone.“Whenyou cease to doubt, you are

lost.But theworld isas it is,Sasha.Onecannotfindpeacewithout accepting that.People die and people kill,andevenifweareallflawedpeople, we cannot achieveanythinggoodifweallowourenemies to defeat us. Wemust survive, Sasha. Youmust survive. Now, by yourown choice, youmust kill tosurvive.Andyoushall.”

Sashagazedat themistuponthelakeasshewalkedbehindherhonourguard,sixmenofthe Falcon Guards who hadvolunteeredfor theduty.Theeastern hills formed a dark,rugged line against the palesky. High above, sunlightcaughtdistantwispsofcloudand turned them brilliantyellow against the blue. Thegrass beneath her boots wasdamp, a not-quite frost that

layacrossthevalleyplainandgavethehuddledwhitesheepsomething todrinkwith theirmorningfeed.Her honour guard were

leadinghertowardthebridgewherethetachadarcirclehadbeen formed upon theHalleryn side of the river.Thetownwallsrosecloseandthe gathering by the streamwas well within arrowshot,yetallpresentweresafefromTanerynarchers.NoGoeren-

yaiarcherwouldeverdisruptthe solemnity of suchproceedings.Alongthewalls,Sasha could see the darkshapesofmanymengatheredanywhere they could find avantage. The Hadryn, it wasplain, expected the Goeren-yai princess to die thismorning. And they wantedtheTaneryn to see ithappen,firsthandandpersonal.She followed her honour

guard across the bridge and

upthegrassybanktowardthegathering ahead. Themen ofher honour guardwere all inthefullarmourandcoloursofthe Falcon Guard, save fortheir helms. Long, braidedhair hung free on theshoulders of the threeGoeren-yai, who marchedwith the slow, arrogantswagger of Goeren-yaimanhood, a hand clasped tothe hilt of each sword andthreatineverystep.Thethree

Verenthane soldiers walkedin a line behind theircomrades, with no lessintimidating a posture for alltheir lack of swagger. Threeof each, Goeren-yai andVerenthanetogether.Itwasaclear anddefiant symbol.Nodoubt the Hadryn, and theTaneryn onlookers from thewalls,wouldnotice.Behind, at a suitable

distance, followed Damon,Kessligh, Jaryd, Lieutenant

Reynan and the six RoyalGuardsmen. Captain Tyrunhadremainedbehindwithhistroops, as at least one seniorofficerwas required to do. Itwas unclear why LieutenantReynanhadcome,exceptthathisfamilyconnectiontoLordJaryd gave him someinfluence.AloneoftheTyreemen, he seemed vastlydispleased by proceedingsandworeascowlbeneathhishelm. Perhaps he hoped she

wouldlose.Ahead, a party of Hadryn

nobleshadgatheredaboutthefar, northern side of thetachadar circle, some houseguards and regular troopsamongst them. Perhapstwentymen,Sashacountedasthey approached. On the farbank, a great many soldierswere now gathering, theirofficers attempting to formthem intoorderly lines, soasnot to present disarray in

viewofthewallsofHalleryn.As Sasha's party strodecloser, therecamesomeyellsfrom the walls to the right.Encouragement, Sasharealised,althoughshedidnotpay attention to the words.The uma of Kessligh wasgoing to fight the Hadryn inhonourablecombat.Whatevertrouble Lord Krayliss hadwith Kessligh's uma, itevidentlydidnotextendtoallthesoldiersofTaneryn.

Answeringyellscamebackfrom the troops across theriver and suddenly the still,sombremorning erupted intoraucous cheering, one sideagainst theother.Sasha let itwash over her, her breathingcalm as Kessligh's traininghad taught, her pulse leveland controlled. Her eyesremained fixed on thegathering ahead and themanin shiny, polished brownleathers beneath a flowing

black cloak, standing upontheedgeofthecirclewithhisbladeunsheathed,point-downontheturf.The honour guard reached

the circle's edge and parted.Sashatookherplace,thetoesof her boots on the smallstones that defined the rim,and the yelling grew evenlouder.Ahornblewfromthewall to her right and thentherecamethethunderingrollof a hide drum as many

hundreds of Goeren-yai mentried to equal the racket ofthrice that number fromacross the river. From acrossthe circle, Master FarysVaranwasstaringather,eyesblazingwith all the fire sucha reception would breedwithintheheartofanyLenaywarrior. Sasha felt a tinglingdown her spine and thenelsewhere as the sensationspread. Little sleep thoughshe'd had, she could not

remember ever having feltmoreawake.Colours,soundsand smells assaulted hersenses. She took a deepbreathofthechillmorningairandsurveyedthecircle.It waswide, perhaps eight

armspans in diameter, withroom enough about theperimeter for at least thirtymen to stand shoulder toshoulder. The silver-hairedman of the previous eveningwas now removing Farys's

cloak fromhis shoulders andfoldingitceremoniously.Oneof Sasha's honour guard didlikewiseforherandherlimbswelcomed the chill air.Another man, a Verenthane,presented her sword in itsscabbard—a Goeren-yaitradition, performed by thisVerenthanesoldierathisowninsistence. He had beenpresent when she had slainthose four at Perys, Sashaknew. She drew the blade

clear,leavingthesoldierwiththescabbard,andsteppedintothecircle.The yells, horns and

drumbeats faded, thenceasedcompletely. Once again,silence ruled thevalley.ThatabrupttransitiongaveSashaaworse chill than the last, andher breathing threatened toquickenasherheartskippedabeat. Focus, she reprimandedherself,testingthefeeloftheblade in one, thin-gloved

hand.Donotthink.Be.Behind and in front, men

of both parties moved aboutthecircle,findingspaceforaclearvantage.Oneofthem,inflowing black robes, steppedinto the circle andwalked tothe centre. A priest, Sasharegistered. Of course thearmies of Hadryn wouldbring their holy men withthem.Reachingthecentre,heproduced a small book andbegan reading. Across the

northern side of the circle,men bowed their heads inprayer.Someof the southernsidedidalso.The priest completed his

incantation and holy signswere made upon heart andlips. The silver-haired manwho had taken Farys's cloakmet her gaze by chance andsmiledasmug,contemptuouslittle smile. These were themenwhokilledKrystoff.Thehatred flared, a rising sea of

moltenfire.Focus,sheforcedherselfwitheffort.Angercanworkforyou.Don'tdrowninit.ThepriestwalkedtoFarys,

who sank to one knee, theswordheldpointdownbeforehim. The priest blessed himwithobviousreverence.Thenturned in a swirl of blackrobes and considered Sashadarkly as Farys rose at hisback. Dark smiles spreadacrossthegatheringbehindto

see thepriest'smanner.Thenhe walked toward her. ButSashadidnotkneel.“Child,donotbefoolish!”

the priestwhispered in harshtemper as an angry murmurspread across the circle'snorthern side. “You mustmake your peace with thegods,foryourfather'ssake!”Sashamethisstarewithan

intensity that made thepriest's eyes widen. And heblessed himself in recoiling

reflex. “Why?” she askedhim. “I won't be the onemeetingthemtoday.”The priest blessed her

hurriedly as she remainedstanding, then departed inhaste. The silver-haired manthensteppedintothecircleasangry ripples continuedamongsttheHadryn.“Lettherecord state,” he cried to allthose watching, “that MasterFarys Varan, son of LordUdys Varan, has been

challengedtothisduelbytheuma of KesslighCronenverdt!Let italsostatethat this challenge was onlyaccepted following the mostgrievous provocation andinsult to Master Farys'shonour!TheumaofKesslighCronenverdt presumes towieldtheauthorityofaman!Ifamanshethinksherselftobe, then let her be treated asone!”The silver-haired man

glared proudly across allgathered. Then, with aspiteful, final stare at Sasha,heturnedanddeparted.Farysadvanced,proudinhisstride,broad shoulders set.Imparting upon the occasionall thehonouranddignityhecould muster for the ritualslaying of an impetuous girl.But he would do this all thesame, for thepurposesofhismasters, who had surely puthimuptoit.KilltheGoeren-

yai princess. Discredit thehated Kessligh Cronenverdt.Showthepaganfoolsthesumtotal of all their hopes andprophecies. And show to allLenayin that the tales ofserrin martial prowess werenothing more thansuperstitious fables, to pavethe way for the holy war tocome.Sashafoundthatshecould

not move. Her booted feetremained anchored, her

previouscalmslippingas theblood began to pound in herears.Shewouldkill thismanto suit her purposes. Hewasignorant. He did not knowwhathefaced.Suddenly,shesaw before her not a hatednortherner, a peddler of spiteand bigotry, but just a man,thesameasanyother.Hehada father and a mother, andmore family besides. Heseemedtohaveperhapsthirtysummers,andsoprobablyhe

hadawifeandchildren,also.Surely thereweremanywholoved him. She had killedmen before in battle, whowere trying to kill her at thetime. This was…somethingcompletelydifferent.Krystoff's coffin, open

before the altar of the SaintAmbellion Temple. She hadwornawhitedressandheldawhite lily in her hands.Remembered numbness. Ablack,all-encompassinggrief.

Shehadwantedtheservicetobegrand, todo justice to thegreat, gaping void that hadopened in her world. To dojustice to Krystoff. To theway he had made her feelwhen he smiled at her, orlaughed at her humour, orhuggedherandmadeherfeelwarm and loved as no oneelse in that grey, formalworldhadevermadeherfeel.The funeral had failed

miserably to do any of that.

She had concluded in hergrief and despair thateverything was fake andnothing that she knew wasworth keeping. She hadsmashed things and attackedherminders;refusedtoeatfordays on end. That day at thefuneral, even more than theday she had learned ofKrystoff'sdeath,shehadtrulybecomeanunbeliever.Alloftheir rules, all the ceremony,all the fancy clothes and

pompous manners, and herfather's strict and formalhabits…it was all a great,stupid fraud. She'd alwayssuspected it. That day, she'dhadproof.Something now drew her

gaze down to both lightlygloved hands, grasped in atight, unthinking grip aboutthe hilt of her sword. Stronghands, calloused in all theright places. She'd workedhard and gleefully on those

callouses when Kessligh hadfirst brought her to Baerlyn.Her hands then had been thehandsofalittlegirl—softandpale. Kessligh had given herthe hard, capable hands of awarriorandshelovedhimforthat. But for all his lessons,his relentless training, highstandards and crypticwisdom,theloreoftheNasi-Keth alone could not givethosehands the strength theyrequired for the task at hand.

The Nasi-Keth were an ideatoher.Awonderfulidea,fullof promise and the prospectof a brighter future for all.But that idearemained in thefuture, beyond the reach ofthepresent.Andherpresent…she took

adeep,coldbreathasitcameto her, slowly, yet with thebuilding force of revelation.Her present had been storiesfrom old Cranyk before thefireplace of his old, creaking

housenearthetraininghall—tales of great deeds andheroic warriors, of pride andhonour,andallthethingsthatmade life worth living. HerpresentwasaneveningattheSteltsyn Star withmusic anddance, and friends, andlaughing so hard that shenearlycried.HerpresentwasthetraditionoftheWakening,the wise scolding of thewomen, the worship of thespirits that dwelled in all

living things and thatoverpowering, timeless bondwiththenaturalworld.Those things had been her

presentsincethetimeshehadarrived from Baen-Tar. Lostand disconnected from theworld, the wisdom andhumour of the Goeren-yaihad come to make her feelwhole again. They hadreassured her that life wasindeed a great and noblething,andwellworthtreating

as such. Kessligh had givenherthehandsofawarriorandthemind of a thinker…yet itwas the Goeren-yai who hadrelit thefire inherheart.Shetook another deep breath,shoulders heaving, poisedwithin the tachadar circlewith a serrin blade in herhands. The confusion liftedand suddenly all was clear.She was Goeren-yai. And itwassimple.Shemovedforward,barely

aware that they were hersteps,likepawsuponthewet,morning grass. Her visionseemed to burn unnaturallysharp and she could almostcount the bristles on Farys'sbroad chin. She may havenever done this before, butthe Goeren-yai had practisedits like for as long as therehad been people in Lenayin.She stood upon the sacredground of countless previousbattles, watched by the eyes

of countless reincarnatedsouls. The cycle was never-ending and thismoment wasnothing so rare and preciousas she had imagined. It wasmerelyher turn, thatwas all,and the surgeof ancient furylitafireinherveins.Her blade moved to the

starting pose with barely athought. The posture felt amodelofmuscularperfection,the feet spread to shoulderwidth,thekneesslightlybent,

poised with a coiled,motionless power. Her gripontheswordhadneverfeltsofirm and secure. Herbreathing came calm andimpossibly, deadeninglyslow. Her heart barelyseemed to beat at all. Theworld felt so calm. So still.She savoured the moment.Shedidnotwantittoend.Farys moved. A shift in

footwork brought his bladeslashing for her neck. It

seemed only natural that herown posture should shift inturn,afootslidingbackasthehands came up, anintersection of steel at theshoulders, a brace of perfectpower through arms, backand legs. Farys's bladedeflected effortlessly by,glancing from her swingingedge like a skate on ice. Shecouldperhapshavefinisheditthen with his guard exposedin the follow-through, the

commonestformofdeathforregular fighters against thesvaalverd…yet theperfectionwas lacking and the feetcould not quite position forthestrokethehandsdesired.He recovered fast and

pressed theattack.This time,there were no enormousfollow-throughs, as ifsomeone had thought tocoach him what not to do.Sasharetreated,asteptoeachstroke as their facing shifted,

countering one, and another,and then another in a clever,deceptive combination thatswung at the last moment toan unexpected, high-quarterslash from an interruptedbackswing. But it was thesimplest,mostbeautifulthingintheworldtoshiftherguardfrom low to high, switchingtheretreatingfoottorearandrotating that defence into afast,offensivecut.Faryssurvivedonlywitha

desperate,downward slamofhis blade, but his left footfailed the transition, and soshe swung to that sideinstead. His frantic parrybarely made it in time, andhis balance not at all as hestumbled back a step…andthat necessary movementopened theway for themostexquisite shift of balance toherforwardpivotfoot,asthebladecircledtohislow,rightquarter and slashed him

cleanlyopenfromrighthiptoleftshoulder.Farys stumbled back,

slowly collapsing as his eyesstared in disbelief. Bloodspurted in a horrid flood,drenching vest and legs, andhe crumpled in a motionlessheaponthegrass.Sashaheldthat posture, blade held highinfinalflourish,armperfectlyextended from the shoulder,feet at the precise positionand angle. It was the most

beautiful thing she had everdone, that killing stroke. Soperfect. So supreme. Shegazed up at the lethal,gleaming edge, almostbloodless with the speed ofher strike, and marvelled atherownmagnificence.Of the horrified gasps,

cries and then yells from theHadryn surrounding, shewasonly dimly aware. Of thesudden roar from theHalleryn walls, beyond the

silent pause that followedFarys's fall, even less so.Except that suddenly, therewas a sound of rumplingcloth, a cloak thrown backandahigh,metallicslideofasmallbladeleavingitssheath.Adesperateyellcamefrom

the perimeter's friendly sideand she spun, aware only ofanonrushingthreat,herbladeslashing to meet it…andstruck the knife frommidair,sending it spinning into the

nearby turf. The throwerhimselfwas felled amomentlater, clutching another knifein his neck, and then thereweremenbreaking thecircleon all sides in a flurry ofdropping cloaks and flashingblades.Before she could think to

find her target, Kesslighwasbeside her, dropping oneonrushing man with a singlestroke of such simplicity, ittook her breath away.

Another, too, came at him,Kessligh simply steppedinside the swing, cuttinghimdown as a gardener mightslashaweed.Amidst the confusion,

someone slashed from herleft…Sasha ducked, butalreadythatbodywasfalling,cut down by Jaryd, his eyeswide with fury. Then, asabruptlyasithadbegun,itallstopped. An entire line ofHadryn lords and men,

behind the two Kessligh hadfelled, were now allwavering, staring withfearful, furious stares atKessligh. Falcon and RoyalGuards alike had closed atSasha's sides,weapons readyandeager.“Honour has been

satisfied,”Kesslightoldthemall. His voice was hard, yetcalmer than Sasha had heardin many a training session.“The result is clear. Take

your losses and leave. Bethankful I ignore thecowardly knife and do notchallenge each of you tomortalcombat,oneatatime,foryourcomplicity.”Sasha had never seen any

array of faces more furious,and more hateful, than thoseof the Hadryn lordsconfronting them. Nor, shethought, more scared. Theydrew back, gathering thebodies of their fallen as they

went. Sasha looked over herleft shoulder to where Jarydstill stood above the body oftheman he'd killed. It was alongwaybacktohavebeenaHadryn man…and sherealised with shock that thedead man was a FalconGuard.Another guardsman knelt

to remove the fallen man'shelmet…it had a lieutenant'screst and came off to revealthe heavy, round face of

Lieutenant Reynan. Therewas blood in his mouth andhiseyesweresightless.Jarydstood above him, his swordbloody, breath coming ingreat gasps. The kneelingguardsman stared up indisbelief.“Whatdidyoudo?”hesaid

in horror, a hand creeping tothepommelofhissword.“No,” said another,

stepping forward. “I saw it.Reynan would have struck

M'Lady Sashandra frombehind. Hemeant to kill herintheconfusion.”Sasha stared at Jaryd.

Reynan Pelyn had beenbrother to Lord TymethPelyn, from one of the mostpowerful noble families ofTyree.“I'd thought his manner

odd last night and thismorning,” Jaryd saidhoarsely, as Kessligh andDamonpushed in to see.His

eyes met Sasha's. “I askedhimwhattroubledhimandhemuttered something about“that brat” ruiningeverything. He never likedyou, M'Lady, I thought hewas just…justmaking talk. Iwaswary,butIneverthoughthe'd…”“Treachery,” said a

guardsman—a Verenthane.“Unbefitting of a Tyree manoraVerenthane.Hegotwhathedeserved.”

“Even that horsefly Faryshas more honour,” hisGoeren-yai comrade agreed.“At least he gave hischallengetoherface,notherback.”“Coward,”agreedathird.They withdrew from the

circle, leaving their formerlieutenant alone on theground, gazing sightlessly atthe grey morning sky. Sashafelt lightheaded and shorter,somehow, her posture no

longer quite so perfect, allcoloursandsoundsnolongersosharp.“You saved my life,” she

said to Jaryd, determinedlyfocused on keeping herbalanceastheywalked.She'dseen an honour duel oncebeforewherethevictor's legshadfoldedbeneathhiminthemidst of his victorycelebration. Now, she knewwhy.“I would have done so

even were you my enemy,”Jarydmuttered.Hisnormallyconfident,carefreeexpressionwas darkened with fury.“Some things cannot betolerated, even from familyallies.”“Even so,” Sasha added,

determined to give furtherthanks,butJarydcutheroff.“Damn fool, I shouldhave

known!” he snarled. “Theywere plotting, damn them.Nowthere'llbeLoth'sransom

topay.”The chanting from the

Halleryn walls continued,accompaniednowbymultipledrums,andthepiercingshrillof reed pipes. Sasha pushedfree of her surroundingcompany and walked acrossthe open grass before thewalls. The cheer eruptedlouder to a full-fledged roar.Shecouldseeacrowdofmenatop the walls, fists andswords held aloft. The

Goeren-yai. Saluting her aspassionately as they'd eversaluted anyone. The tears inhereyesspilledandrandownhercheeks.Sheplacedthesworddown

and held both arms aloft,palms outward, then loweredthem slowly, requestingsilence. Slowly, the volumedeclined. And then, finally,themorningstillreturned.Aneerie, unreal hush, after thedin that had been. Sasha

pressed both palms togetherbefore her forehead andbowed in thanks and respect.Such triumphalism was notwhat the situation needed; ithad cost far too muchalready.A horn sounded by

Halleryn's main gate,announcing an imminentdeparture. The royal partywaitedandtheHadrynmovedtheir bodies to the stream,wheresomeonehadbroughta

raft to save them thehumiliation of the long walkback. Upon the far bank,Hadryn soldiers milled inshock and anger. Even at aglance,Sashacouldseemuchgesticulation, rude handgestures and raised voices.She hoped that the FalconGuard, back at their camp,were prepared for anyeventuality.Then,fromthemaingate,a

grand, chestnut warhorse

clattered onto the road andturned along thewall towardthem. Two more ridersflanked their leader, Tanerynbanners flying, and Sasharecognised Lord Kraylissastride the leading horse,riding square-shouldered andproudashismenwatchedonfromtheirwall-toppositions.Theriderslefttheroadand

approached across the grass,haltingbeforetheroyalparty.Krayliss swung his heavy

weight from the saddle,rearranging his cloak aboutthe enormous sword at hiship. His dark eyes peeredfrom beneath thick blackbrows, his expressionunreadablebehindtheprofuseblack beard. He inclined hishead to Damon and thenagain, more deeply, toKessligh at Damon's righthand. He had watchedproceedings from thewall, itwas very clear. Sasha was

only a little surprised whenthe gaze then swung andfixeduponher.Lord Krayliss strode

toward her, a hand upon themassivehiltofhissword,andknelt to one knee, his headbowed. Sasha blinked. Thatwas unexpected. It broughther no joy, and even lesswhenKrayliss liftedhisgazeand beheld her from thatposition. There wascalculation in his eyes. This

wasadisplay forhismen.Acold dread replaced thegeneral unease in the pit ofher stomach. This just gotworseandworse.“Princess Sashandra!” he

announced, in a loud,ponderous tone. That bassvoice would surely carry tothenearestpositionsatop thenearbywalls.“Ihaddoubted,but today we have seen forourowneyes.TheSynnichisyour guide. You are the one

whohasbeenchosen.Forgivemyshort-sightedness.”“I do not claim the

guidance,” Sasha said softly.“I have not been chosen foranything.”“Iconcede to theauthority

of the Synnich!” Kraylissannounced, ignoring herstatement entirely. “I shallleave this place and ride toBaen-Tarwhere I shall awaitthe judgment of the king onthis dispute! The armies of

theking shall remainbehind,and see that the Hadryn areescorted from the lands ofTaneryn!Theystatethattheirquarrel iswithme alone, notwithTaneryn,andsoweshallsee them prove it! I shall doall of this on one condition!That the Princess SashandraLenayin shall give me herword,thewordofoneguidedbytheSynnichitself,thatsheshall ensure all fairness andimpartiality upon my trial

before the king, and that sheshall guarantee that the goodpeople of Taneryn are notmade to suffer at anyone'shand! I ask the Princess ofLenayin, does she grant meherword?”Sasha took a deep breath.

ThelakebeyondtheHallerynwalls was serenely beautifulas yellow flushed the easternskyatopthehills.Above,thelooming presence of MountHalleryn looked down. The

chill air smelled sharp andfresh.“Igivemyword,”shesaid

with as firm a voice as shecould muster. WhateverKrayliss's intentions, sheknew that shehadnochoice.Toendithere,toseparatethewarring sides before thebloodshedcouldescalate intoterribleproportions…surelyitwas worth her word? Whatwasasimplewordagainstthelives of hundreds? Perhaps

thousands?And yet she knew with

dread certainty, as Kraylissgrasped her hand in his andplaced it to his lips, that thatword would cost her. InLenayin, the price of honourwasneverslight.Krayliss regained his feet

and turned to Damon andKessligh. “I shall makepreparations to rideimmediately. What are yourplans?”

“Ishallawaitthearrivaloffurther forces,” Damonannounced. “They shouldarrive shortly. That will freemyself and a suitable escortto ride with you back toBaen-Tar. After witnessingyour departure, the Hadrynforces have no reason toremainonTanerynlands.Theroyal forces will supervisetheir departure. Master Jarydand Captain Tyrun of theFalconGuardshallcommand

thateffort.”“Acceptable,”Kraylisssaid

shortly.“YuanKessligh?”“MyumaandIshallattend

Rathynal in Baen-Tar,” saidKessligh. “First, we shallreturn to Baerlyn. I amexpecting an importantvisitor.”SashashotKesslighalook.

Itwasthefirstshe'dheardofanyvisitor.Shedidn'tlikethesoundofthatatall.“I have your uma's word,

Yuan Kessligh,” Kraylissrumbledwarningly.“Iexpectherpresenceatmyhearing.”“And you shall have it,

Lord Krayliss,” Kesslighreplied. “She shall be atBaen-Tar before thebeginning of Rathynal. Itshallbeunderstoodbyallthatno hearing should beginbefore her arrival. On that,youhavemyword.”

SOFY STRODE QUICKLY downthe stone corridor to theking's chambers, her maidAnyse at her side. “Oh, Ihope I'm not late,” sheworried, brushing hastily ather hair. “Is my hairtangled?”“It's lovely, Highness,”

said Anyse, alwaysdiplomatic.“Just…here.”Shepulledabrushfromanapronpocket and Sofy stood stilllong enough for her to pullthe brush through quickly. Itcaughtseveraltimes.“Oh damn,” Sofy fretted,

“it's been doing that a lotlately,hasn'tit?”“Notat all,Highness.You

have the loveliest hair inBaen-Tar, but it's no wonderyou get tangles when you

neverslowdown.”“Slow down?” Sofy

exclaimed. “Alythia'swedding is less thanamonthaway, Rathynal will be hereshortly and every provinciallordandhisentouragewillbearriving, all demandingentertainments, decorativequarters—and gods forbidanyone should findthemselves bored or indisagreement with myprogram…ohhells,howdidI

end up with so manyresponsibilities?”Anysefoughtbackasmile.

“You volunteered,” she saidsuccinctly.Sofy gazed at her in

despair. “I did, didn't I?Heavens,I'msuchafool.”“Nonsense, you're simply

too kindhearted andintelligentforyourowngood,that'sall.”Sofybrushedher longhair

with a hand, then grasped

Anyseby thearmandpulledher on down the hall. “Iwonderwhatfatherwantsmefor.PerhapsI'llbeabletogetoutof it soon, then I cangetback to rehearsal…oh!CouldyourushbackandtellAlythiaI'll be late? She insists sheneedsmyhelptodecorateherwedding shawl…my fingerswillbe raw to thebone fromneedleworkattheendofthis,I'msureofit!”“I'll tell her, Highness,”

Anyse reassured her. “Andyour gown for the banquettonight?Shallyouleavesometimeforafitting?”“Oh drat!” Sofy said

crossly, drawing an amusedlooked from a tall RoyalGuardsman as he stood atattention. “I knew I'dforgotten something…look,could you just arrange thegreen-and-blue one with thecurlpattern?I'dthoughtsinceit is a foreign reception and

green and blue is not so farfromLenaypurpleandgreen,isit?”“Quite adequate,

Highness.”“Andstopcallingmethat!”“In the royal quarters,

certainlynot,Highness.”They stopped before the

grandtwindoorstotheking'schambers,panelledwhiteandinlaid with gold, unlike theplain dark wood of most ofthe Baen-Tar Palace. Sofy

took a deep breath,wondering at her nerves. Ithadbeendayssinceshe'dlastseen her father, or Koenyg,for thatmatter.Lately, they'dboth been spending muchtimeinclosedchamberswithadvisors and, some said, theholy fathers of the SaintAmbellion Temple. Therewas serious trouble in thenorth with that prize foolLordKrayliss, they said, andnow,aforeigndelegationhad

arrived.Shehadfartoomuchon her plate to be concernedabout the issues that troubledthe family's menfolk, butmeetingher fatherwasneveralightheartedaffair.Anyse adjusted the silver

Verenthane star against herprincess'schest.“There.YourHighness is looking forwardto M'Lady Sashandra's visitforRathynal?”Sofy grinned at her and

spun a pirouette. “Sasha's

coming to stay!” she sanghappily. “I hope she stays aweek!No, Ihopeshestaysayear! Maybe I'll…” and sheslappedahand tohermouth,horrified. “Oh no, where aremywits?I'mlatealready!”Shereadjustedherhairand

dressinahurry,withAnyse'smirthful help. Took anotherdeep breath, made a face atAnysewhentheolderwomancould barely refrain fromlaughingatheroverexciteable

charge, and pushed throughthewidewhitedoors.Thedoorsopenedonto the

reception, a grand,rectangular room of darkstone and decorative wallhangings. Upon the widecarpet stood many men,sipping from glasses whilstimmersed in conversation, asmusicians played the reedpipe and gitar in one corner.Sofy blinked in astonishment—manyofthemwereclearly

notLenaymen,fornoLenayman, Goeren-yai orVerenthane,wouldhavebeencaughtdeadintheoutfitstheywere wearing. Their bootswerehighandpolished, theirleggings tight and theirbeaded tunics were fittedtight about the torso, yetflaredpuffilyattheshoulders.Cuffs enveloped their handsin explosions of embroideredwhite lace, offsetting thepredominance of darker,

richercolours.Manymenhadcurlsintheirhairandthehintof perfume scented the air,stronger than Sofy's own.They stood in conversationwith various palace officialsandsomeofficers.Then she saw Koenyg,

excusing himself from oneconversation and striding toherside.Hiscalmexpressiondarkenedtoascowlwhennoone could see. “Where haveyou been?” whispered the

heir of Lenayin. Sofy's elderbrother was a broad, solidman, with none of the leanelegance of his foreignguests. His wide-sleevedjacket was made ofluxuriantly soft skins with aleather tunic beneath,displaying none of thedecoration of the foreigners.But then, it had never beenthe way of Lenay men topreenandprance likematingbirds.

“Whatdoyoumean‘wherehave I been’?”Sofy retorted.“HaveyouanyideahowbusyIam?”“Practisingceremoniesand

embroidering costumes doesnot constitute busy,”Koenyganswered,presentinghisrightarm forher to take.Sofydidso,quickly replacinga scowlof irritation with a friendlysmile for the guests.Koenygwalkedhertotheedgeofthecarpet and all the men

stoppedtalkingtolookather.Something in the foreigners’eyesmadeheruncomfortable.Not that their gaze was rude—they were far too culturedand dignified for that—but itwas…judgmental,somehow.Koenyg stopped and, to

Sofy'ssurprise,alltheforeignmen gave a round of politeapplause. Sofy smiled,because it was funny, and…well, every girl liked to bepraised, even with such

strange, foreigncustoms.Shecurtsied. And continued tofeel uncomfortable, whateverthe well-practised charm ofhersmile.“Sister,”saidKoenyg,with

polite formality, “pleaseallow me to introduce DukeStefhan of the Bacoshprovince of Larosa.”Indicating a man before herwho seemed to stand a littlestraighter than the others.Sofy curtsied, grateful of the

chance to lowerhereyesandsmother an abrupt surge ofdistaste. Larosa! She'd heardtales of the Larosa, some ofthemfromSasha.Larosawasthe most powerful of theBacoshprovincesandmostoftheBacoshspoketheLarosantongue,orwereinfluencedbytheir culture. Larosa had lednumerous wars against theSaalshen Bacosh over thepast two centuries and hadbeendefeatedeach time.She

had heard what the Larosahad done to captured full orhalf-caste serrin, with orwithout the excuse of war,andherblood rancoldat thethought.“DukeStefhan, here ismy

youngest sister, the PrincessSofy Lenayin.” Sofyextended her hand and theduke took it lightly.Heworemore rings than Sofy evenowned,letalonewore.“Utterlycharmed,”saidthe

duke, with a strange accentthat was itself rathercharming, and pressed herhandtohislips.Thedukehadagoateeanddarkhairincurlsdown to his shoulders. Ahandsomeman,Sofythought,in perhaps his mid-forties…withafunnynose,bulgingatthe tip. “YourHighness, youare evenmore beautiful thanallthetalesIhaveheard.Mycompanion Master Piet is askilledbard,Imusthavehim

write a song for you somencan sing of your beauty allthroughLarosaandallacrossthegreatBacoshlands.”“Indeed,”saidanotherman

—Master Piet, it seemed.“Yousetmeaneasytask,myDuke. Before such a beauty,words and song cannot butleaptomylips.”Against all her better

judgment,Sofy foundherselfblushing. “MyDuke,Master,youflatterme.”

The duke's eyes widened.“Flatter? No, no, YourHighness,youmustnotthinkso!” The accent, Sofythought,reallywasverynice.All the soundswere soft andall the hard Lenay vowelsseemed to flowtogetherwithvelvetease.“Ihavefound,inmy travels through yourbeautifulkingdom,thatallthemountain women are full ofvigour! Perhaps it is themountain air, or the

wonderfulwater.Butyou,myPrincess, you have a rosyglow to your cheek, and agleam in your eye, that isunsurpassed. Unsurpassed.And I would be honoured ifyouwould accompanyme tothedinnertonight.”Sofyblinkedandlookedat

Koenyg. The dinner…ofcourse. The banquet, rather,towelcomethearrivalofthisforeign delegation—theLarosa. They had come for

Rathynal, the great meetingofLenay clans.AndKoenygwanted her to be the duke'sescort?Well, thatwashardlysurprising—she was the onewho usually got stuck withthat kind of thing. The onewho actually liked talking tostrangeforeigners,oranyone,forthatmatter.“Would that interfere so

terribly with your busyplans?” Koenyg asked her.Men laughed to hear that

touch of dry irony—abrother's exasperation withfeminine obsessions.Especially amusing fromblunt,pragmaticKoenyg.“Of course not!” Sofy

retorted and favoured thedukewitha smile.Perhaps itwouldn't be so bad after all.The duke seemed nice andlowlanders certainly knewhow to outshine Lenay menwith charm. Besides which,therewere somanybeautiful

crafts, songs and paintingsshe'd seen from the Bacoshprovinces; surely the dukewas a culturedman and theycould talk of such things.Sofy loved the arts above allelse…andasforSasha's talesabouttheLarosa,well,Sashacertainly was prone toexaggeration. “I would bedelighted to accompany youto the banquet tonight, DukeStefhan,”shesaid.“SuchatreatismorethanI

deserve,” replied the dukewithasinceresmile.“Please,allow me to introduce themenofmycompanionship.”“Of course, that would be

lovely…” Before her brothercouldturnawayandleaveherwith the duke, she quicklywhispered. “Where is father?I'd thought he would behere?”“Father is meeting,”

Koenyg said vaguely. “He'llbeatthebanquet.”

“Meetingwithwho?”Sofywondered, as the Duke ledher first toMaster Piet, whoalso kissed her hand.Everyone seemed to be inmeetings, at themoment.Allthese comings and goingswere toomuch to keep trackof.SheonlyhopedthatSashawould come sooner ratherthan later. Sasha helpedthingstomakesense.And,asmuch as she enjoyed theflattery of theLarosamen, it

was a little annoying to betreated so condescendingly.Notonlylikeagirl,butlikeachild.JustletthemtryanddothattoSasha!

“My Lord?” The squirehovered at Usyn's elbow.“My Lord, please comeinside. You'll catch cold.Breakfast will be readysoon.”

Lord Usyn Telgar stoodatop a rocky vantage on theHelmarPass,andwatchedthefirstlightofdawnbreakovertheArynValley.Aday'sridenorth fromHalleryn.A day'shumiliation. He stood innothing but his loose pants,boots and undershirt,wrapped in a heavy cloak.His breath frosted before hislips, and the snowline ofthese first, lowmountains ofthe Marashyn Range began

just a short climb up thenearest, rocky slope. Yet hewelcomed the cold chill ofpain and, through sheerdetermination, willed hiskneesnottotremble.Itwasasmall victory, perhaps…butoflate,itwastheonlyvictoryFamilyTelgarhad.“Callmewhenbreakfastis

prepared,” Usyn told thesquire.“But my Lord…” Usyn

turnedacold,blue-eyedstare

ontheyoungman.Thesquirepaled and swallowed hard.“Yes, my Lord,” he bowedand hurried back toward thetents. From behind, andacross the lengthof thepass,thecampwasstirring.Horsessnorted in the cold and menchipped at ice puddles forcooking water, or choppeddeadwood from the stragglypines.Thedawnwassobeautiful.

A strip of golden light upon

the ruggedhorizon, fading toyellow, then through allshadesofblueandthenblackin thehighersky.Above, thebrighter stars yet shone,glorious in their finalmoments.YettheyoungLordofHadryn feltnopleasure inthecomingofsuchwondrouslight. The gods mocked himwith their grandeur. He hadfailed, and yet the sun stillrose,as ifallwererightwiththe world. The gods were

infallible.HisVerenthanestarfeltheavyuponhischest.Forthe first time in his life, hedoubtedhisrighttowearit.Thesquirereturnedashort

while later with news ofbreakfast and Usyn turnedback towardhis tent.Within,Udys Varan sat on a tentstool,handswrappedaboutahot mug of tea, and staredinto the central fire. Smokethickened the air, escapingthrough a small hole above

thecentrepole.Severalotherlordsalsosat,drinkingteaoreatingthefirststripsofbaconthat the servant provided.Usyntookhisplace,receivedhis plate from the squirewithoutaword,andbrooded.Fromacross the fire,Udys

Varan looked up. His hairgleamedwhiteinthefirelight,his eyes cold.Usyn's father'swisest companion andconfidant in matters of warand power. And his most

powerfulrival.“Andwhatareyour plans this fine, coldmorning,youngTelgar?”There was a note of dark

sarcasm to the oldcampaigner'svoice.Anoteofaccusation. Of disrespect.Usyn struggled to keep acheck on the temper thatseethed in his gut. “I amGreat Lord, Lord Udys,” hesaid coldly. “My age is noneofyourconcern.”“Yetyoufailtoanswerthe

question,” Udys replied.“Haveyouaplan?Ordoyouintend to attend the king'sgreat Rathynal as thoughnothing has happened, like awhipped dog with its tailbetweenitslegs?”“It's notmy fault your son

was killed,” Usyn bit out. “Irecall it was your idea tochallenge the Cronenverdtbitchinthefirstplace.”“My son,” Udys said with

blazing eyes and hardening

tone, “is but a sign of ourpredicament! I grieve notonlyformyson,youngLordof Hadryn, I grieve forHadrynitself!”“It's not my fault!” Usyn

shouted,risingfromhisstool.“Not one of you predictedthatLordKraylisswouldcasthimself upon the king'smercy, you all swore to methat he would fight to thedeath!”“It is our fault!” Udys

replied, also rising. “Weshould have known betterthantoentrustapuplikeyouto go charging into Taneryntoavengeyourfather…”“Enough!” shouted Yuan

Heryd,risingaswell.Hewasa big, wide-faced man. Lordof the northern fortress townof Wayn, directly on theCherrovan border. “Thisbickering shall achievenothing.MyLord, please sit.YuanUdys,please.Youhave

lost your son, yetLordUsynhas losthis father.Anymorearguing and we shall startkilling ourselves, and thatshall onlymake our enemieslaughalltheharder!”Varan nodded, coolly

enough, and reclaimed hisseat. Gestured for Usyn toretake his, with no smallirony. Usyn stood for amoment, trembling. Histemper seethed, desiringescape, yet no convenient

targetpresenteditself.FamilyVaran were one of Hadryn'soldest and wealthiest. TheyhadmanyclaimstotheGreatLordshipofHadrynandtherehad been blood feuds in thepast between Telgars andVarans…all buried now,within the common unity ofthe Verenthane brotherhood.Usynwasyoung,yetheknewthat Udys Varan had manysupporters amongst the otherHadryn nobles. Given his

chance,Udyswouldmakehismove and claim HadrynGreatLordshipforhimself.Usyn took a deep, shaking

breath. Then he sat, fightingto keep his breathing even.Thiswasintolerable.Neverinall his life had he felt sotrapped, so humiliated, so…small.HewasGreat Lord ofHadryn. Long had hedreamedofthemomentwhenhisfather'stitlewouldbehis.But not like this. Not like

this.Breakfast was eaten in

merciful silence.Thecomingsunlightcolouredthewallsofthe tent increasingly bright.From about the camp, thesounds of activity increased.Finally,LordUdysspoke.“Our predicament is not

unique,” he said, wiping thelastgreasefromhisplatewithapieceofbread.“Foraslongas the descendants of theUdalyn continue to raise the

flag across the border inTaneryn, these troubles willcontinue. They shall troubleyour sons, too, my Lord,”with a meaningful glance atUsyn, “and most likely ourgrandsons and great-grandsons as well. TheUdalyn are their inspiration,and our never-ending shame.TheUdalynhavesurvivedusfor a century, hidden in theirvalley. We claim to be thegreatest of the northern

powers and yet we havefailed to destroy them. ThatfailureinvitesotherstoattackusintheUdalyn'sname.”“This was our best

chance,” Yuan Heryd saidsombrely. “The death of ourlord gave us rights under thecrownlaw.It isthefirsttimewehavehadthechancetogetthat bastard Krayliss's headon a pike. Now, he's runcowering to the king forprotection.” He shrugged,

always pragmatic. YuanHeryd had that reputation.“We tried. At least he maylosesomecredibilityamongsthis own people. He isbelittled.Wehaveachievedatleast that much…and whoknows? The king's law mayseehisheadonapikeyet.”“The satisfaction shall not

bequitethesame,”Usynsaidicily.Itwasdifficulttospeakof such things so calmly asYuan Heryd. But his father

had respected the man. Hewould try, whatever theeffort. “Sometimes I wonderwhether our support for thecrown law is worth all thetroubleitgivesus.”“Young Lord,” said Yuan

Varan,leaningforwardonhisstool, with meaning,“disabuse yourself of suchnotions. There are only threeprovinces of Lenayin thatfollow the true, chosen pathof Verenthane. The other

eight are weak; theirVerenthanenobility lacks thecourage to whip their localpagans into shape. In thoseeight, the pagans remain amajority. We cannot controlthemonourown.Wecontrolthemthroughtheking;fortheking,thoughflawed,isatrueVerenthane. Such are theunpleasant compromises ofpower, young Lord. Yourfatherknewitandyoushouldlearnitalso.”

“That wonderful king,”Usyn said sarcastically, “hasspent the better part of mylife gallivanting with pagansand serrin demons fromSaalshen.”“The better part of your

life,yes,”agreedUdys.“Youhave barely nineteensummers, my Lord. Aneyeblink in the passage ofpower. For a moment, thekingfavouredtheserrin.ThatwasthedoingofCronenverdt

—that man has caused moredamage to Lenayin than anyother in our history. Heclaimed credit for greatvictories against Markield,and the king, believing inomens,foolishlybelievedthattheNasi-Kethandtheirserrinpuppet-masters wereresponsible.“But now, Cronenverdt's

influence is fading. He triedtomould the king's heir intohis own image, but failed.

The second heir, gods bepraised, isa trueVerenthane,and the north holds hisfavour. His wife—your dearsisterWyna,myLord—istheLenay queen-in-waiting andhas already borne us aHadryn heir to theVerenthane throne. The kingnow reads new omens, mostespecially in the birth of hisheir's son, and favours thenorthoncemore.“Soon, thewar shall come

and we shall march to theBacosh to reclaim the holylandsfromtheserrindemons.The Verenthane gods shallbecome strong as they haveneverbeenstrongbefore,andwith theirstrength,oursshallincrease.Weshall strengthenties with our lowlandscousinsintheLarosaandthefreeBacosh, for they are theones who truly know how apaganshouldbetreated.Thatshallputsomebackbone into

our southern Verenthanes, atlast.“Soon, young Lord, there

shallbenonebutVerenthanesas far as the eye can see andthe serrin demons shall bewiped from the earth. But ittakes patience, my Lord. Imay not live to see that day.Evenyoumaynot.Butitwillcome, and our everlastingglory shall be all the greaterforourpart.”“You speak fine words,

YuanUdys,”saidUsyn.“Butour concerns are moreimmediate. You tell me thatthe Taneryn problem willremain for generations, but Icannot now assault TanerynwithLordKrayliss under theking's protection, for theking's lawforbids it!What isthe central rule from Baen-Tartrulyworthtousifitdoesnot allow us to deal firmlywith that which threatensus?”

“My Lord,” said Varan,shaking his head withimpatience, “you did notlisten. Taneryn is littleenough problem. They arepoor, and weak, and led byfools. They trade little, growpoor crops and gain little inwealthandpower.“The true problem, my

Lord,aretheUdalyn.Aslongasweallowthemtoresistus,we invite all our enemies toattack us.And our chance to

finally end this problem isnow.”Usyn stared at him.About

the campfire, all men did.Usyn frowned. “But theking's law prevents us fromattackingtheUdalynjustasitprevents us from attackingtheTanerynwithoutjust…”“No!” said Udys,

triumphantly. “The crownlaw was written by KingSorosahundredyearsago.Itrecognised the boundaries

between provinces asimmutable,andalord'srightswithin those boundaries assacrosanct. The king'shistorical protection of theUdalyn Valley is anunderstanding, my Lord, notalaw.Averbalunderstandingbetween King Chayden,Soros'sson,andthepagans.Itis nowhere in the writings,and had I a copy of thedocument here before me, Icouldshowyou.”

“But…but…” Usyn rolledhis eyes in exasperation.“What does it matter?Previous lords of HadrynhavetriedtoendtheUdalyn,but each time the kingstopped them! The paganshavespieswithinourbordersand the Udalyn alwayssummonhelp!Weshallhaveyet another royal armydescending upon our headsbefore we can breach theUdalyn's wall. And if they

trap uswithin the valley,wearefinished!”“My Lord,” said Udys,

very intently. His eyes drewthem all in, conspiratorially.“Some of us, from all threenorthernprovinces,havebeenin contact with PrinceKoenyg. He wishes for theBacosh war most strongly.Yet he knows that the warshall be unpopular amongstthe pagans.He needs us,myLord,andthekingalsoneeds

us. There shall be no warwithout our support or elsethe holy lands in the Bacoshshall remain occupied by theserrindemonsandthereshallbe no allegiance with thegreat power of a unitedVerenthaneBacosh.“Prince Koenyg is a

strategist and holds hisfather's favour. He needs usso much, he has made itknownthathewillnotstopusfrom any pursuit not

explicitly forbidden by theking'swrittenlaw.”Therewasasilencewithin

thetent.Usynfelthopeflare,hot and bright. A hope forsuccess.Ahopeforglory.FortherisetotheGreatLordshipofHadrynthathehadalwaysdreamed of. A chance to beworthy of his great, departedfather.Udyssawthelookuponhis

lord's face and gave a tight,hard smile. He knew. “My

Lord,”hesaidquietly,“Iprayof you. Let us remove thisweepingsorefromthehonourofHadrynonceandforall.”

Sasha sat on her chair in theSteltsynStar,amugofaleinher hand, and gazed at theblazing coals of the centralfirepit. About her, themerriment of mealtimecontinued with music and

laughter. She had recited hertellingoftheridetoHalleryn,which had been met withmuch applause and shouts ofapproval from a roomcrowded full of long-haired,tattooed and ringed Goeren-yaimen.Butnow,whiletheycaroused, she only felt likesitting near the glowingwarmth of the fire, andwatchingtherippleofredandorange across the surface ofcoals.

Soon, Teriyan dragged achairandsatbesideher,witha head toss to keep his longred hair clear of the chairback. “So Kessligh's got avisitor?” he said. His tonesuggested he'd had severalales already…but Teriyanwas one man Sasha knewcouldholdhisdrink.She nodded, taking an

absent sip. It was her first,and only, ale of the night.Kessligh didn't like her

drinking the stuff at all, butshe liked to be sociable…morethanshelikedthetaste,intruth.“Hisname'sAiden,”Sasha

replied, somewhat sourly.“He rode all the way fromPetrodor, just to talk toKessligh.”“About what, do you

know?”Sasha shrugged. “Nasi-

Kethbusiness, Iguess. Iwasbooted out of the house

beforeIcouldhear.”“Couldyoubealittlemore

enthusiastic?” Teriyansuggested,takinganotherpullathisale.“You'llbeheadingtoRathynalsoon,you'llgettosee your Sofy again.” Sashasmiled. “Aha, I thought thatwould do it. Cheer up, kid,youlooklikeLyniedidwhenherpetratdied.”“Lyniehadapetrat?”“She did until the dog ate

it. She nearly killed the poor

mutt,neverseenaboarhoundsofrightened.”Sashagrinned,well able to imagine that.“Butthensheteamedupwithyou and your horses, hasn'tlookedataratsince.”“I think it's a Goeren-yai

thing,” said Sasha. From theother side of the room, therecame a roar of triumph—someofthemenwereplayinga game with knives and athrowing board. Anothernight, andanothermood, she

mighthavejoinedthem.Spirits,she'dloveditwhen

she'd first come to Baerlyn.There were animals here.Kessligh had brought sixclassy mares with him, giftsfrom the king's stables, andher new life meant beingaround them all day. Everymorning when she'd awokenwithinthetimberwallsofhernew home, the horses werewaiting for her. And therewere thedogs, the twocows,

birds in the trees,deer in thewoods, the occasional bear,big and small wildcats, andwolveshowlingatthemoon.Well, she'd not loved it

entirely at first.Kesslighhadbeenahardtaskmaster.Therewerenomoreservantspryinginto her life, which waswonderful…but also, therehadbeennoone tomakeherbed, prepare her meals, setthe fire, fetch water, chopwood and all the other small

tasksthattookherawayfromher precious horses andimportantsvaalverdwork.There'd also been

Kessligh's training. She'dthought it would be fun, atfirst, for she'd loved trainingon her own orwithKesslighandKrystoffintheprivacyofthe empty stables in Baen-Tar. But Kessligh's newroutines were far moreadvanced than the littleexercises he'd suggested in

Baen-Tar. These includedpainful stretches everymorning and evening, longruns up the hill behind theranch, and endless, tedioussessions of repeating thesame, basic swing over andoverandoveragain.Soon enough, the little

loud-mouth brat princess hadbegun whining andcomplainingaboutherachingshoulders,herblisteredhandsand the sheer,mind-numbing

boredomofnotgetting todoany real fighting. And she'dbeen tired all the time, andsometimesill,andwinterhadbeen well on its way.Kessligh had explained, timeafter time, the necessity oflearning the svaalverd's mostbasicformsuntiltheybecameas second-nature as walkingand breathing. But hertantrums had grown worse,especially in the freezingdownpoursandhowlinggales

ofautumn.After one particularly

hysterical tantrum, Kesslighhad dragged her from herroom where she'd flungherselfonherbed,andsatherdown before the fireplace.He'd explained to her, in avery serious way, that if sheno longer wished to be hisuma,shecouldalwaysreturnto Baen-Tar and become aproper princess again. She'dwear dresses, learn manners

and etiquette, and practiseneedlework instead ofsvaalverd.There'dbenomorepain, no more exercises andstretches, no more bruises,strains and blisters. Butthere'd also be no morehorses, no more wide openspaces,nomorehidingontheforestledgealongthehillsideto spy on the wolfcubsplaying before their den. Nomorespearfishinginthelittlestream at the bottom of the

hill, or swimming in thewaterhole beneath the littlefalls on a warm summer'sday. No more crackling logfires in the evenings, and thecabin filled with the sweetsmell of burning old pine, abook of serrin poetry on herlap as she slowly unravelledthe beautiful triple andquadruple meanings of theSaalsitongue.Thathadbeenherlastgreat

tantrum. Oh, she'd had more

minor ones since—far toomany to count, in fact. Butshe'd stretched, and run, anddone push-ups and sit-upsuntil her arms, legs andstomach ached all over, andshe would stagger about thestableslikeacripple.Then, one day in

midwinter, with the snowspiledhighon thegroundandthe trees all gleaming withicicles, Kessligh had takenher down to Baerlyn for a

special occasion. It had beenMidwinter's Day, her veryfirst in Baerlyn. The localshadgatheredforagreatfeastoutdoors, as the weather hadbeen chilled but fine. Therehad been fires for warmth,and music, dancing andlaughter.Everyonewasthere,men, women and children,and Sasha had been amazedto see that they paid nogreater respect or homage tothe village councilmen than

theydidtoapoorpigfarmer,or to Denys the simpleton,who spoke funny, andlaughed far too much, butwasneverteasedforit.Somehad even dared jokes atKessligh's expense—they'donlygottenasmilefromhim,but a smilewasasgoodasabelly laugh from KesslighCronenverdt.There'd followed contests

of swordwork, includinglimited-contact contests for

the children. Sasha hadswung her child's stanchthrough those same oldboring, predictable strokesKessligh had spent so muchtime drilling her on…and toher amazement, the boyscontestingherwouldmeetnofirm contact with theirwoodenblades,andlosetheirbalance, or expose theirdefences, or fall flat on theirbacksides as their footingentangled. Not always, of

course—often it hadn'tworked, and she'd get abelting for her faults. But ifshe did it just right, andconcentrated as hard as shecould…well, the boys hadprotested, fumed and sulked,but they could not deny herability. Some of them hadsimply shown respect,including some of the oldermen who'd ruffled her hairandtoldhershewasgood.Ithad given her a feeling she'd

never known she'd craved sobadly until that moment.Pride, and belonging. In thatmoment, it had truly dawnedonherthatshecouldnevergoback to the life she'd oncehad. She was no longer aprincessofLenayin.ShewasSashandra Lenayin, uma toKessligh Cronenverdt, of theNasi-Keth.She'd never complained of

Kessligh'strainingtechniquessince. Slowly the exercises

had become less painful, theruns less exhausting, and theblisters had grown over withhard callouses. Lynette hadbecome a permanent featureat the stables, and thenAndreyis. She'd begun toknowthetownsfolkandtheirchildren better. She had hadfights and made friends, hadplayed seek and chase alongthe dusty lanes and beenscolded by the women forriding one horse or another

too fast through the town.She'dbeenborn inBaen-Tar,in the great royal palace ofLenayin, but this, Baerlyn,villageofValhananprovince,washerhome.Jaegar dragged a chair

across to sit opposite, hisbacktothefireandaplateofroastmeatandvegetable raalonhislap.“Greetingsall,”hesaid,“sorryImissedthetale.Upwyld filled me in. Mostimpressive.”

“And where were you?”Teriyanchallengedhisvillageheadman and good friend.“When our girlwas standingon the table, pouring out herlatest great glory towemeremortals?”“Rony has a light fever,”

Jaegar explained, utterlyunruffled, taking a bigmouthful. “Took her to seeCranyk. He gave her somefoul-smelling serrin stuff.Rony wouldn't eat it. From

there, it became a grandbattle.”SashaandTeriyangrinned.

Rony was Jaegar's youngestdaughter,nowfouryearsold.Jaegarhadfourgirls,noboys,andcontemptforanyonewhothought that made himunlucky.“Whowon?”Sashaasked.“Well I'd like to claim a

great victory over the forcesofdarkness,”Jaegaradmitted,takinghis cup from the floor

to wash down a mouthful,“but in truth, itwas a brutal,bloodydraw.Ronysufferedaspanking,butSharynnowhasto devise a way to bake aflatbreadwith thedamnstuffinside it, so Rony can eat itwithoutnoticingthetaste.”“Sweet spirits,” Teriyan

groaned, a hand to his facewith the agonised expressionofafatherwhosympathised.“The most devious and

stubborn of adversaries, little

girls,”Sashasaidknowingly.Jaegar nodded, eating

hungrily.“Theveryworst.”

Sasharodeback to thehousewith a lit torch in one hand.Chersey did not mind theflame, nor the ghostlyshadows that it cast acrosstrailandtrees.Sasharodeatafastcanter,partlybecausethedistance was short and

Chersey knew the road well,and partly because she'dlearned to be cautious ofpossible ambush, even heresoclosetotown.Onedidnotbecome uma to Kessligh ofthe Nasi-Keth withoutlearningtobecareful.She was greeted upon the

open lower slope by araucousbarkingofdogsfromtheverandah.Lightglowedinthehouse'swindows, spillingacross the verandah where it

raised on stilts above thegentleslope.Sheroundedthehuge vertyn tree, and thechicken run and widevegetable garden that itsheltered, and continuedupslope to the stables. Onceinherstall,shegaveCherseya rub in case of sweat thatmight chill,made certain shehad feed and drink for thenight,andfastened theheavyblanketoverthemare'sbroadbackandaboutthesides.

Then she checked on eachof the sixteen long faces thatpeered over their respectivestall doors at her, having nodoubt of Kessligh, AndreyisandLynette'scare,butalwayswishing to check for herself.Her horses were her life, atleast as much as herswordwork. She fussed overthem for awhileby the lightof an oil lamp, more for thepleasure of their companythan because they required

the attention. Then shemadeherwaydown the long, darkslope toward thedimlightofthehouseahead,withnothingtoguideherstepsinthepitch,silentblacknessthanmemoryofthegrassyground.Kaif and Keef greeted her

on the rear verandah, takingtime from crunching a hugebone to sniff at her withwagging, shaggy tails. Theopenkitchenwaswarm,withevidence of a recently

prepared meal on the bench.Beyond the partition,Kessligh sat with his Nasi-Kethguest,Aiden,beforetheopen fire of the main room,sippingtea.“Evening!” said Aiden

brightly,risingfromhischair.“Didyouhaveagoodtime?”Hehadaround,cheerfulfaceand a flatmop of black hair.His build seemed verging onfat, yet there was a poise tohim, and a balance, that

perhaps only a fellowswordsmanwouldnotice.“A wonderful time, thank

you,”saidSasha,kneelingbythefiretowarmthekettleonthe stand above the flames.“Please sit, we Lenays aren'tmuchonformality.”Aiden sat, with a beaming

smile. His accent was verybroad and his manners veryTorovan,Sashathought.“I was telling Kessligh,”

said Aiden, as Sasha walked

to close the main roomshuttersthatKesslighhadleftopentogivehersomelighttoride home to, “that inPetrodor, there are few innswithwomen.Petrodorisveryconservativeplace,yes?VeryVerenthane. No womendrinking, no womendancing…”Sasha finished the second

shutter's latch, and noted theseveral large books lyingbesideKessligh'scomfortable

chair. Serrin books, sherecognised them. ShewonderedwhatheandAidenhad been discussing allevening.“Very few women here

either,” Sasha replied,standing before the fire.Kessligh's expressionremained distant, barelylistening. Something about itmade her uncomfortable.“Mostlythewomenarestuckat home, cooking and caring

for the children. I have toadmit, I don't knowmany ofthemhalfaswellasIshould.And have precious little todiscusswith themwhen I dogetachancetotalk.Ourlivesare just so different.At leastwith the men, I can talkhorsesandswordwork.”“Very few women in the

Nasi-Kethtoo,”Aidenadded,watching her curiously.“Yuan Kessligh is greatvisionary. No Petrodor

womenachieveyoursuccess.Notallserrinteachingstakensoseriouslybyhumans,yes?”Sasha snorted. “He's a

great visionary?” Half-serious, half-joking. “Whataboutme?Ididit,nothim.”Aiden laughed. “True,

true,” he conceded,cheerfully.“Besides,howmuchvision

does it take to tell thedifference between a womanand a lumpof coal?”With a

sidewaysglanceatKessligh.Aiden shrugged, broadly.

“InPetrodor,Ithinkmaybealot,”hesaid.Kessligh usually rose to

that bait. Tonight, he barelynoticed.Sashalookedathim,uneasily. “So what did youtwospendalleveningtalkingabout?”Aiden's good cheer faded.

He looked at Kessligh,waiting for him to speak.Sasha had often wondered

what Kessligh was to thoseNasi-Keth in Petrodor withwhomhecorresponded.Whatwas he to Aiden? A leader?An inspiration? A “greatvisionary”?Hisachievementsin Lenayin had certainlymadehimasignificantfigurefor Nasi-Keth everywhere.Buthe'dbeengone for thirtyyears, and lived so faraway…“Aiden brings news from

Petrodor,” Kessligh said.

“Saalshen's representativethere, Rhillian, is makingwaves. I've spoken to you ofherbefore.”Sasha frowned. “I

remember. Isn't sheSaalshen's second incommandinPetrodor?”“Serrin concepts of rank

are not easily translated,”Kesslighreplied.“Thereisnorank, only ra'shi. Respect.One earns ra'shi throughdeeds and experience, so it's

not always easy to tellwho'struly in charge. Rhillian'sra'shi grows powerful acrossall Saalshen, not justPetrodor.”The kettle began to boil.

Sasha knelt and put twoteaspoons of ground tealeavesintotheteapotwhereitsat beside the fireplace. “Sowhat did Rhillian do?” sheasked, taking the teacloth sothatthekettle'shandledidnotburnherfingers,andpouring.

“She's been agitating forSaalshen to get tough, hasn'tshe?”Kessligh looked at Aiden,

inviting him to speak. “Theholy brotherhood are sayingshe attacked the archbishopand tried to steal theShereldinStar,”saidAiden.Sasha stared at him. “The

ArchbishopofPetrodor?”sheasked.Aiden nodded. “It is

nonsense of course—if she

attacked the archbishop, hewould be dead. Everyoneknows this, yet no one likesto say it. No one will admitthetruepowerofSaalsheninPetrodor, and that no one issafe from the serrin, if theserrin don't want you safe,yes?”“But…theShereldinStar?”

Sasha remembered the kettlein her hand, and put it downbefore the fireplace. “Isn'tthatthatstupidartefactallthe

Verenthanesraveabout?”“The holiest relic of

Verenthanes,” Aiden saidsolemnly.AndSasharealisedin a flash that Aiden, likemost of the Petrodor Nasi-Keth, was most likelyVerenthane. She'd probablyoffended him, she thought,and chided herself for notmindinghertongue.Kesslighhadrenouncedallotherfaithsin the pursuit of serrinteachings. But for most

lowlanders, faith was not soeasily cast aside. “I havespoken with serrin, they sayRhilliandidnotwantthestar.I think they tell truth, here.WethinkRhillianonlymeanstowarnthearchbishop.Somethingstheserrinwillnottakelyingdown.”“And what was the

archbishop doing with theShereldin Star? Isn't that…”and she paused, andsomething cold and

worrisome occurred to her.“Isn'tthatinthepossessionoftheLarosa?”Again, Aiden nodded,

sombrely. “It was. TheLarosa have had many warsagainst the Saalshen Bacosh.They want the Verenthaneholylandsback.Theywanttounite the Bacosh under asingle king and throw theserrin out. They swore, twocenturies ago, that theShereldinStarwouldoneday

bereturnedtotheholylands,but only when the serrin aregone.“The Larosa give the

archbishopthestarsothatallTorovan will unite beneathhim and fight with theLarosa.”“And now the Larosa are

here!” Sasha exclaimed. Herheartthumpedunpleasantlyinher chest. “Someone at theinn said a large group justarrivedinBaen-Tar!”

“The last piece in thepuzzle,”Kesslighsaidtiredly.“The armies of the SaalshenBacosh are formidable. Allthe remaining Bacoshprovinces are uniting underthe Larosa. But it's notenough. A Torovan army isuseful for numbers, butTorovans have never beennoted fighters. What theLarosa want from thearchbishop is the loyalty ofthePetrodor families, and all

their money. Petrodor mightnot be much in a fight, buttheycanpayforahugearmy,Sasha, of far more than justTorovans. The archbishopwillconvincethemtopay,forthesakeoftheirsouls.“Still, even Torovan and

Larosan armies together areinsufficient. They needLenayin.Andbythelooksofthings, they're going to getLenayin.”“And I've just been sitting

in a large room filled withGoeren-yai warriors whohave always insisted thatthey'llnever fightagainst theserrin!” Sasha replied. “Noteven should the kingcommandit!”Shecouldfeelthepiecesof

the puzzle clicking together.Suddenly, it was all makingsense…and what she sawfrightened her. All becausesome stupid Verenthanescouldn't stand the serrin

livingonwhathadoncebeenhuman lands. Now, theirintolerance threatenedLenayin with civil uprisinganddisaster.“Now you see the scale of

it,” said Kessligh, with tiredexasperation. “Now you seewhat I'vebeen tellingyouallthese years. These foreignmatters, these things youdismiss as unimportant, canrise up and destroy yourworld, Sasha. It is all

connected. Your father nowseeks to align Lenayin withwhatheseesasthedestinyoftheVerenthanes. Thatmeanssupportingtheirwar.”“Wellthenwehavetostop

him!” Sasha exclaimed.“You…you still haveinfluenceleftwithfather,youwere his Commander ofArmiesforeighteenyears,forheavens’sake!Helistenedtoyou!ThisRathynal,wemustride to Baen-Tar and

convince him not to join theLarosa!”“I'm not riding to Baen-

Tar,” said Kessligh. “I'll beriding to Petrodor.” Sashasimply stared at him. Shecouldnotthinkofanythingtosay.“Thegamehaschanged,Sasha.Lenayinwillmarch towar,itcan'tbestopped.Whatcan be saved is the Nasi-Keth.Aidenbringsnews thatthe factions have split. Somefavour Rhillian; others

disagree and seek a pathseparate from Rhillian'sinfluence.“Petrodor is the key to

stopping this war, Sasha.Without Petrodor's wealth,thewarwillnothappen.Andthe Nasi-Keth are the key toPetrodor—united, they arethe only power in Petrodorcapable of restraining thefamilies. Icannotallowthemtobecomedivided.Theyneedme now. I cannot wait, or

thingswillbeworse.”Sasha continued staring.

Shefeltasiftheverygroundhad disappeared from underher. Her ears could notbelieve what they werehearing. “And what aboutLenayin?” she breathed,incredulously. “Do all yourloyalties to Lenayin just…disappear?”Kessligh frowned, his jaw

tightening. “I have giventhirty years of my life to

Lenayin.Isworeallegiancetoyour father, yet I neverclaimed to be anything otherthanwhatIam—Nasi-Keth.Icannotignorethatcallinganymore than your father canignore the callings of theVerenthaneholyfathers fromPetrodor.AndIwon't.”Tears sprang to Sasha's

eyes.KesslighwasLenay.Offoreignorigin,surely…but inmanyways, hewas Lenayin.The greatest Lenay warrior.

And she, his uma. Now, hewascastingitallaside,asonemightthrowasideapeeloncethe fruit was eaten. Shecouldn'tbelieveit.Kesslighsatforwardonhis

chair, his expression intense.“Sasha,think!”hedemanded.“Of all the serrin teachingsI'vetoldyou,ofallthethingsyou know! Broaden yourvision, Sasha! The importantthing is to stop this damnedwarfromhappening!Icando

that!InPetrodor!”“If civil war takes

Lenayin,” Sasha said withdifficulty, “countless liveswill be lost. Towns likeBaerlyn will be destroyed,perhapsBaerlynitself,andallits people killed. I knowenough Lenay history toknow what our civil warslook like. You would justabandonthemtothisfate?”“Damn fool, you're not

listeningtome…”

“It'll be too late!” Sashayelled at him, comingabruptly toher feet. “Yougoofftoplayyourpowergamesin the alleys of Petrodor…there's trouble brewing herenow! You may save theserrin, and youmay save theNasi-Keth, but Lenayin shallbeashes!Whatwereyourlastthirty years here for, if youjust run away when Lenayinneeds you most? What wereyour last twelve years with

mefor?”“You are my uma,”

Kessligh said simply. Thefirelightcasthis features intorumpled,hard-edgedshadow,an animation they couldnever acquire on their own.“Youmust comewithme toPetrodor.”Sasha felt something snap.

This betrayal was too much.She could have struck him.“Damned if I will!” sheyelled. “I promised Krayliss

I'dbeatRathynal,andIwon'tgive him free rein in Baen-Tar to cause trouble withoutme!YougotoPetrodor!Yougo there, and you rot there,withyourbelovedNasi-Keth!Me,I'mLenay,andI'llneverabandonmypeople!Never!”

“BUT DARYD!” RYSHACOMPLAINED. “Mama saidwe'renotallowedbeyondthetrees!”Daryd ignored her, aswas

an elder brother's right, hiseyes searching through theforest. Essey's breath plumedin white clouds, brilliant in

the golden sunshine that fellthroughthetreetops.Sunlightgleamed on wet trunks andundergrowth, low and brightin the early morning. To theright through the trees rosethe Aralya Range—Hadrynlands,andabarrierbeforethelands of Valhanan. Esseyfoundherwayeasilyenough,nimble hooves pickingthroughthebracken.“Daryd!” Rysha protested

from her seat at his back.

“We'llgetintrouble!”“We'vepickedallthegood

stuff from the treeline,”Daryd replied. “There'll bemore growing along theriver.”“Butwe'llgetlost!”“How can we get lost?”

Daryd asked in exasperation.“The river's just over on theleft,themountainsareontheright, how can anyone getlost?”He'd been feeling very

confident of late, ever sincehe'd bested Salyl Wyden inthe Hemys Festival contest.Salyl Wyden had twelvesummersandwasabully.He,Daryd,hadonlytensummers,but he was good with astanch.ThebesthisageinallUdalyn, his father claimed,with obvious pride. It madeDaryd's chest swell to thinkon it. Perhaps at the Festivalof Rass, he could prove it.TheUdalynValleywaslong,

and many families livedthere. Rass was a biggerfestival than Hemys and allthe valley would attend.Then, surely, he could provehisfather'sclaims.Untilthen,hewould settle for being thebest his age in the town ofYmoth beyond the valleymouth. Better than the bullySalylWyden,anyhow.“But Daryd,” Rysha

resumed after a thinkingpause.Daryd rolled his eyes.

“TheHadryn live thisway. Idon't want to meet anyHadryn.”“Look Rysha, I told you.

Up ahead is LakeTullamayne. LakeTullamayne lies right upagainst the Aralya Range.There's no way around it onthis side. We have scoutstherewhospyon theHadrynin case they come across thefieldsontheothersideoftheriver. They'd have told us if

there were Hadryn here, andtherearen't.Okay?”Hehadhishuntingknifeat

his side and, for a ten-year-oldboy,thatwasasgoodasashort sword. Essey was hisfather'shorse,butnowthathewas ten, Daryd's fatherallowedhim to takeheroverthe southern and easternfields,lookingforthevariousmushrooms and herbs hismotherandauntsusedintheircookingandmedicines.There

were farmers all across thefieldswhowouldkeepaneyeon a boy on his horse, so itwas not really as dangerousas Daryd liked to imagine.Butridingnowintotheforesttoward the lake that markedthe eastern-most boundary ofUdalyn lands, he couldalmostimaginehimselfafull-fledged warrior, ridingproudly upon his steed, hisbraidsflowingdownhisbackand his face bearing the ink-

marksofUdalynmanhood.“Oh look!” said Rysha

then, removing one handfrom his sides to point.“Butter flowers! Look howbig they are…Daryd, I wanttopicksome, thenIcan takethemhometoMama!”“We're looking for much

more important stuff thanbutter flowers,” Daryd toldher sternly. If only Mamahadn't insisted that he takeRyshawithhimthismorning!

He could hardly feel like atrue Udalyn warrior with hisseven-year-old sister clingingto the back of his saddle,complainingalltheway.“I want to pick some

flowers!” Rysha insisted,indignantly. “If you're goingto go into the forest, I'mgoing to pick some flowers!Or I'll tell Papa where youwent!”Daryd scowled. “You're

suchapain,Rysha.”

“You'reapain!”The forest and the

undergrowth became thicker,so Daryd steered toward theriver.Soonenough, thegreatYumynis appeared throughthe trees, wide and brokenwithrocks,itslevellowinthelatesummer.Daryd rode along the

grassy verge above theriverbank. Below, whereerosion bit into the earth, agravelly, rocky bank ran

perhaps fifteen strides untilthewater'sedge.Darydmadethespiritsigntohisforeheadand, behind him, Rysha didthe same. The Yumynis wasthelifebloodoftheUdalyn.Ithad sustained them in theCatastrophe,acenturybefore,whentheHadrynhadtriedtokill them all, and nearlysucceeded. It had sustainedthem in the century since,locked in their valley,surrounded by the vilest of

enemies.Anditwouldsustainthem in the future, as theUdalyn rebuilt their numbersand their weapons, workingfor thedaywhenall thathadbeen taken from themwouldbe theirs once more. Thegreat spirit of the YumynishadgivenbirthtotheUdalyncountless centuries before,andnowitkeptthemaliveinalltheirstruggles.SoonDarydfoundagrassy

meadow and dismounted.

While Essey grazed happilyupon the grass, her tailswishing, Daryd and Ryshalooked for herbs andmushrooms. Which was notsuch an unmanly thing, heassured himself as he peeredbeneathalarge,mossylogforflashesof telltalecolour.Thewise ones of Saalshen lovedherbsandmushroomsalso, itwas told, and made magicalpotions from them.Thewiseones had not visited the

UdalynsincetheCatastrophe,butmanystoriesweretoldofthemstill.And theirdisciple,Yuan Kessligh Cronenverdt,hadcometothevalley,whenhewasliberatingallthenorthfrom the Cherrovan warlordMarkield—Daryd'sgrandfatherhad toldhimthatstory many, many times.Kessligh Cronenverdt foughtjustlikethewiseones,andhewasthegreatestwarriorinallLenayin. He'd even trained

one of the princesses ofLenayin to fight like themtoo,itwassaid.Soon, Daryd's hessian bag

held a small weight of herbsand fungi. Absorbed in hissearching, he suddenlyrealised thathedidnotknowwhere Rysha was. He wasabout to call, but stoppedhimself. Not that the forestwas unsafe—he'd told Ryshathetruthaboutthat—butifhewas going to become a great

warrior,heneededtolearntothinklikeone.Feeling pleased with

himself for thinking of it,Daryd retraced his steps onsodden undergrowth andmossy roots toward themeadow, where he had lastseen Rysha. Rysha could beannoying, but she wasn'tstupid. She knew not towander and was usually farmore cautious than Darydwas. Even so, Daryd moved

atacrouch,scanningthroughthe trees as he'd seen hisfather and uncles do on ahunt,ahandonthehiltofhisknife.The forest grew lighter as

heapproachedthemeadow…andthen,hecouldhearanewsound, above the calling ofbirds, and the gentle rushingof the river. A deep, distantsound. Like thunder, onlysteady, not rising or falling.Daryd had never heard

anything like it before in hislife.Still creeping,hemadehis

way to the edge of themeadow and peered out.Essey's head was raised, nolonger chewing on the grass.Her ears were pricked, herattention turned toward theriver. Beyond the fringe oftrees where the meadowopened onto the riverbank,Daryd saw a dark massmoving.Atop thedarkmass,

sunlight glinted on metal.Occasionally a banner rose,flyingasitmoved.Horses,herealised in shock. The darkmasswashundredsofhorses.And the thunder noise wasthesoundofalltheirhooves.“Daryd!” hissed a voice

behind him, and he spun inshock,fumblingforhisknife.Rysha stood there, her lightbrown hair now decoratedwith a bright yellow butterflower. Daryd's heart

restarted,hiskneesthreatenedto give way. His fumblinghandhadnotfoundthehiltofhis knife at all, much to hisfrustration.“What?” he demanded

angrily. Her big eyes staredacrossthemeadow.“It's the Hadryn!” she

whispered, as if fearful theywouldoverhear.“TheHadrynhavecome!”Daryd stared across at the

far bank. And then he

realised…“Essey!”He ran onto the meadow,

grabbed thehorse's reins andled her back to the trees,hoping none of the riderswould see her through thatbrief gap in the trees. TheHadryn were headed towardYmoth. Toward home.Toward Papa, Mama and allthefamily.“Quick!”hesaidtoRysha,

“getup!”Foronceshedidn'tcomplain, and he helped her

astridebeforefollowing.“Wehave to warn Ymoth! That'sthe entire Hadryn army!”Even now, the column ofhorseswascontinuingtopassand showed no sign ofstopping. Not hundreds.Thousands.He urged Essey forward

through the trees, but theundergrowthherewasthickerthan nearer the fields.Immediately, his path wasblocked by a large fallen log

andhehadtogoaround,onlyto find that way partiallyblocked as well. Nimble-footedthoughshewas,Esseymadelittleprogressasbushescaught at her legs and rootscausedhertostumble.Acrossthe river, the Hadryn weremovingfar,farfaster.“We're too slow!” he told

Ryshadesperately,duckingalowbranchthatclawedathishair. “We have to ride alongtheriverbank!”

“Butthey'llseeus!”Ryshaprotested, her voice filledwithfear.“We have to warn Mama

and Papa!” said Daryd. “Wehavetogofaster!”HeturnedEssey toward the river andthemarewove,stumbledandboundedherwaybetweenthetrees as best she could.Finally the undergrowththinnedandEsseyclearedthelast, twisted trees upon theriverbank. The sight took

Daryd's breath away. Acrossthe fields on the far side ofthe Yumynis, a single,endless column of armouredmen on horseback wasmoving at a canter. Evenfromthefarbankofthewideriver,theroarofhoovesmadea sound so loud it wasfrightening. Banners flew ateven spacings along thecolumn, flying colours andsymbols that were foreign.Many of the riders were

wearing black, a Verenthanecolour. Daryd knew little ofthe Verenthanes, except thatsome were good, some werebad, and the Hadryn wereworst.He kicked his heels to

Essey's sides and she brokeinto her fastest gallop alongthe uneven riverbank grass.Rysha clutched him tightlyfrombehind,herfacepressedagainst his back—she hadnever liked it when he went

this fast and the riverbankwas not as flat as he wouldhave liked. Essey raced upand down the bumps, atfrightening speed, andDarydsimplytriedtostaystraightinthe saddle, unable to crouchas much as he'd like lest hegive Rysha nothing to holdonto.Above the thunder of

Essey's hooves, he heard adistant shout, then another.Heriskedaglanceacross the

river and saw a riderseparating from the column,gallopingtomatchhimalongtheopposingbank.Thatmanwas looking straight at him,fromahundred stridesaway,and fear knotted in Daryd'sstomach.TheHadrynwore amail shirt with a colouredvest and jacket over the top,andhisheadwas coveredbya pointy steel helm. An armwaswaved and another riderjoined the first, together they

toreaheadalongtheoppositeriverbank.ItstartledDarydtosee how fast they were—Essey was running at fullgallop, yet the two Hadrynhorsesgainedabigleadinnotime, disappearing nowbehindsomepoplarsgrowinginlinesalongtheriverbank.Then they reappeared

again, leapingdownfromthehigh bank to the gravellyriversideandcantering to thewater. Daryd's heart nearly

stopped again as he realisedthehorsesweregoingtocrosstheriver.Thewaterlevelwaslowthistimeofyearand,forthe big horses the Hadrynused, it probablywouldn't bedifficult.Ithadn'toccurredtohim.Terror floodedhisveinsandhecursedhimselfbitterly—not so much for himself,but for Rysha. He shouldnever have taken a risk withher life. His first and mostimportant role as a big

brother was to protect her,andhe'dfailed,miserably.TheHadryn horses slowed

as they splashed in theshallows, then slowed somemore as the water deepened.Esseygallopedpastthem,andthen the forest was endingand the wide, open fields ofYmoth's outer lands spreadgreen and shining beforethem. Ahead a distance wasfarmer Vayen's cottage,nestled amidst the poplars

along the riverbank. Darydgalloped that way, throughthe open gate of the emptyfield nearest the forest,casting desperate glancesover his shoulder at thepursuers.BothHadrynhorseswereswimmingnow,passingthe river's midway point.They were rapidly being leftbehind.Daryd felt a surgeofhope.Maybe they still had achance.The next field was filled

with sheep, the gates in itslow fenceline shut. “Holdon!” he yelled to Rysha andthumped his heels to Essey'ssidesasheaimedherstraightfor the low, wooden fence.Essey leaped and thengrounded on the far side,quickly regathering hermomentum. Sheep scatteredin a white, woolly tide.Farmer Vayen's cottage wascloser now. Beyond, theYumynis swept about in a

vast, right-hand turn to thenorth, toward the UdalynValley mouth. Just beyondthatriverbend,invisiblenowbehind the poplars, layYmoth, at the base offoothills that rose intomountainsbeyond.Itwasstillalongway.Essey cleared the next

fence too, and Daryd tookanother look over hisshoulder. The two horseswere bounding up the

riverbank behind, gallopinginhiswake.Thosemenwereheavy and armoured, butEsseywas carrying two.Theterror,momentarily subsided,resurfacedwithavengeance.Ahead,farmerVayencame

running fromhis cottage, hishairflowingoutbehindandabig sword grasped in bothhands. “Ride children!” heroared at them,waving a bighand. “Ride fast! Don't lookback!”

Daryd rode, tearing pastthecottageintowhichhehadbeen invited for lunch onnumerous occasions andwonderingwhereMrsVayenand the children were. Hesped through the next opengate and took another lookback—Farmer Vayen stoodon open ground before hiscottage, blade raised withmuscled arms, as the twoHadryn horses thunderedstraightforhim.Theirriders’

swords were unsheathed,gleaming in the brightmorningsun.He had to leap another

fence then andwhennext helooked about, both riderswerestillcomingandFarmerVayen was nowhere to beseen.Theriderswereclosingfast and Daryd realised thathe had no chance of gettingeven close to Ymoth beforetheycaughthim.HeturnedEsseyleft,away

fromtheriverandtowardthetreelineabout thebaseof theAralya Range. The rollingfarmland climbed gently andEssey'sgallopseemedtoslowjustalittle.Darydkickedherdesperately, looking about tofind that both Hadryn horseshad cut across the corner ofhis sharp turn,andwerenowhalvingthepreviousdistance.Another mistake. But hehadn'thadachoice.The high ridge of the

Aralya Range loomed farabove, like an enormous,sheerrockwall.Thepaddockslopebecamesteeperand thetreeline closer. Anotherglance behind and he couldsee the foam about theHadryn horses’ mouths andthe red decorations hangingfromtheirbridles.Closerandcloser they pounded. Rysha'sgripwaspainfullytight.Essey managed a final

burst of speed and then they

tore amongst the trees—theywere pines here, not thebroadleaf of the riverbank.Therewasspacebetween thetrunksandDarydwoveEsseybetweenthem.Trunksflashedpast at dangerous speed,Esseyslowingsomewhat,butthebigHadrynhorsesslowedmore.Suddenly the forest floor

surgedupinasheerrockwallandDarydturnedEsseytotheright, galloping thatway and

hoping it too would not beblocked…a Hadryn cut pastbehind and Daryd saw theman's determined face, hisjaw set beneath his helm,sword in hand and fightingthereinsone-handed.The bigger horses seemed

to have trouble changingdirection amongst the trees,however, and Essey surgedahead, just missed collidingwith a pine…and then therewas a line of thick broadleaf

ahead, and undergrowth,where a stream fell from theAralyamountain face.Darydplunged into it, undergrowthtearing at Essey's legs,branches whipping at hisface. It opened suddenly intothe stream, intowhich Esseysplashed,thenboundedupthefar side. The undergrowththere was impenetrable andso Daryd reined herdownslope, searching for away through…and suddenly

there was a Hadryn ridercrashing across the stream infront of him, moving to cuthimoff.Thesecondriderhadflanked him, he realised inshock.Theoldestmanoeuvreof horseback warfare. He'dfancied himself an Udalynwarrior, but in truth, itseemedthathewasjustaboyafterall.Behind him, the first rider

wasnowcrashingontothefarstreambank, cutting him off

completely.Somethinghissedthroughtheair,thenathud…the first rider screamed, thencursed.Darydstaredandsawthe man had been struck byan arrow in the shoulder andwasstrugglingtostayahorse.Thentherewasanotherhorseemerging from the treelinedirectly behind Daryd andRysha, its rider wielding abow.The second Hadryn

chargedalongthestreambank

and the new rider cast thebow aside, charging pastDaryd and Rysha whilstpulling his sword. Esseyreared in fright, then Ryshascreamed and fell from thesaddle.“Rysha!” Daryd cried as

the two riders collided withyells and clashing steel,horses shrieking andstamping…but Daryd caredonly forRysha, leaping fromEssey's back and slithering

down the streambank whereshe'd rolled.Ahorse fell androlled in the stream with ahuge splash and a manemerged soaked from thewateralongside—hishairwaslongish, Daryd saw, and hewore no colours ormail.Hishorse bounded clear of thestream—asmallerhorse, likeEssey—and the Hadryn, stillastride,descendedtheslopingbankwithweaponraised.The fallen man pulled a

knife and threw, which theHadrynswattedwithamailedarm…butthebighorserearedand the fallen man sprangforward and thrust for theHadryn's leg. The Hadrynyelled with a yank on thereins,causingthebighorsetotwist,thenslipandfall.Itslidheavily into the water,scrambling once more to itsfeet as its rider staggereduprightinitswake.Theothermanwasonhim

beforehecouldrecover,steelrang loudandclear fromoneblow, then another. TheHadryn slipped, defendedanother blow, then reversedwith a surgeof rawpower—his attacker parried but lostbalance from the sheer force,falling half in the water andlosing his blade. But he wasup before the Hadryn couldfinish him, grabbing theHadryn's sword arm andgrappling. Both men fell

wrestling into the water,splashing and flailing, withgrunting,franticdesperation.Daryd clutched to Rysha,

the twoof themwatchingonthe streambank inmesmerisedhorrorasthetwomen tried to kill each other.The Hadryn seemed to bestronger and held the otherman under water, his teethbared in a furious snarl. Theother man struggled,splashed, then struck the

Hadryn's wounded leg. TheHadrynscreamed,butdidnotrelent his grip. Was struckagain,whichloosenedahandenough for the other man tograb and bite. Again theHadryn screamed, and theman beneath him struck himin the face and rolled himover,searchingthestreambedwith another hand.He foundarock,raisedandstruckwithit—again and again, as theHadryn tried to defend

himself.Rysha sobbed and buried

her face into Daryd's chest.The Hadryn's helm wasmissing, and the mail hoodprovidedsomeprotection,butthe man with the rock wasrelentless. He continued tostrikewith terrible fury,untiltheHadryn'sstrugglesceased.Then he stood up, shouldersheaving, and searched theshallows until he found hisblade. That done, he stood

over the fallen man's body,raisedthebladewithitspointdownandplunged it throughthe protective mail. Andtwisted,horribly.Daryd's stomach turned

andhe lunged for the streamto vomit. He was still there,onhandsandknees,whenthebedraggled, bloodstainedvictorsplashedupstreampasthim,hisbladeinhand.Darydwatched, knowing heshouldn't, but unable to tear

his eyes away. The manarrived at where the secondHadryn now lay on thestreambank, clutchinghelplesslyattheshaftbeneathhis inner collar-bone. Thefear in the wounded Hadrynman's eyes twisted Daryd'sstomach once more and hevomitedagain.Helookedup,just in time to see the victoryank off the Hadryn'sprotectivemail hood and cuthisthroat.

Then he walked to theHadryn's horse, which wasstandingfearfullynearby,andextended a hand, speakingsoftly. Soon he was strokingits nose, and it seemednoticeablycalmer.Heledthehorse downstream, where itdrankwhile theman crossedthestreamtorecoverhisbow.Finally, he walked to wherethe two muddy, wet andterrified Udalyn childrenhuddled together by the

streamside.Darydgottohisfeet,stood

beforeRysha and put a handon his knife,warningly. Thismanwas clearly notHadryn,but he did not look Udalyn,either—his face bore nomarkings and his wet hair,while shoulder-length, wasnot long enough for a braid.The man had rugged,weathered features and hiswet clotheswere the leathersand rough cloth that a

woodsmanmightwear.He crouched on one knee,

disregardingDaryd'swarningstance. “Udalyn?” he asked,pointingatDaryd.Hisaccentwas very strong. Daryd hadnever met a non-Udalynbeforeinhislife.Henodded,warily. “MyEdu…” themanmadeaface.“Verybad.LittleEdu.Understand?”Again, Daryd nodded. His

mouthtastedofvomitandhishead spun. But he was

determined not to faint. Thatwouldbe a final humiliation,before this strange, foreignwarriorwhohaddefeatedtwoHadryn cavalry before hisveryeyes. “Iunderstand,”hesaidwarily.“Whoareyou?”Inexplicably, the man's

ruggedfeaturessplitinahardsmile.AsiftheverysoundofDaryd's speech had causedhim pleasure. His eyes, hardand merciless the momentbefore, nownarrowedwith a

lookofwonder.“Udalyn,”hemurmured. And somethingelse,inaforeigntongue,withafaintshakeofhishead.“MynameJurellyn,”he said then,very carefully. “PrinceDamon efryn sy. Rels enPrince Damon Lenayin.Understand?”The foreign words must

have been Lenay, Darydguessed.Lenaywasspokeninthe middle provinces, he'dheard…although in the last

century, it had spreadelsewhere and becomeLenayin's major tongue. ButintheValleyoftheUdalyn,itremained as strange andforeign as the many tonguesofthewiseonesofSaalshen.“Prince Damon Lenayin

sentyou?”Darydguessed.Theman, Jurellyn, nodded

vigorously. Then clicked hisfingersasawordoccurredtohim. “Scout,” he said. “Mescout. Prince Damon's army.

Scout Hadryn.” Pointing atthe fallen men. “I scoutHadryn.”Pointingtohiseyes.“See Hadryn. Tell PrinceDamon. Hadryn go Ymoth.FightYmoth.Understand?”Ymoth. Abruptly, Daryd

recalled his original mission.His family were in Ymoth.TheHadrynwereheretokill.He had just seen killing, forthe first time, with his owneyes. The thought of thathappeningtohisfamilyfilled

him with a terror that madeanyfearforhisownlifeseemlikenothing.“My family live in

Ymoth!” he told the man,desperately. “Mymother andfather, my brothers…I havetowarnthem!”Jurellyn shook his head,

firmly. “Hadryn, Udalyn,fight,” he said, smacking fistinto open palm. “You goYmoth, you die.Understand?”Darydstaredat

him. Tears spilled down hischeeks. Jurellyn put a firmhand on his shoulder. “YougoBaen-Tar.You seePrinceDamon. You see KingTorvaal. You scout. You…you tell him, what you see.Then, you save father, yousave mother, you savebrother.Understand?”The king would send an

army,hemeant.Daryd'seyeswidened inhope.Herecalledwhat the adults had always

said—that the Hadryn wouldnever dare attack so long asthekingforbadeit.EversinceKing Chayden, the Lenaykingshadforbiddenit.Daryddid not understand what hadchangedthattheHadrynnowdared the present king'swrath. But if he could meetwiththeking…ifhecouldtellhimwhatwashappeningheretoday…“I'll go!” he said firmly.

“I'llmeetwiththeking!ButI

don't know the way…willyoutakemethere?”Jurellyn smiled a hard

smile. “My friend. Myfriend…take?” Darydnodded.“Myfriendtakeyou,seeKingTorvaal.Goodman.BraveUdalyn.”Daryd felt his chest swell

at that. The foreign warriorthought him brave…andthought the Udalyn brave.The foreigners still toldstories about the bravery of

the Udalyn, as he'd heardsome in Ymoth say. Surelythe kingwould listen. Surelyno one could just stand byand let the Udalyn beslaughteredoncemore.

“Ow!” Sasha exclaimed,somewhat after the fact, asshe prodded the new bruiseon her bicep. Andreyisbacked off, stanch twirling,

looking very pleased withhimself. Sasha gave him thismorning's customary darkstare and he sobered a little.Shewindmilledherarm,fast,to keep it loose. “Don't gettoo pleased with yourself,”she toldhim.“Ihate fightingwiththisstupidstyle.”“But I'm getting better,

right?” Andreyis insisted.“Thatwasagoodstrike!”Sashawonderedifhetruly

appreciated how difficult it

was for her to fight in atraditional Lenay style. Butthe Wakening would bebarely a moon from now—the end of summer, thetraditional time for theceremony of manhood—andAndreyisneededthepractice.Evenwiththehandicapofhergender, therewere thingsshecould teach him in this stylethat the Baerlyn menfolkcould not show him in thetraininghall.

They stood on the baregroundbeneaththeoldvertyntree, near the top fence ofKessligh's vegetable garden.The horses grazed across thevast upper slope enclosure,their coats gleaming in thesun. Kessligh had gone totown,takingAidenwithhim.Sasha had not been unhappytoseethemgo.“You're planting the front

foot too soon on the secondtransition,”shetoldAndreyis,

tryingherbest toignoreboththebruisesandherbadmood,for Andreyis's sake. Allyoung Goeren-yai maleseagerly anticipated theWakening. Andreyis'stechnique was good, but hisrecent growth spurt hadimpeded his footwork, andthus his timing. She refusedtolethimfail.“Seehere…thearms follow the feet,Andrey.”Shetookthestance,holding her arms clear, and

danced the several fast stepsof the racha-dan, withoutmoving her arms. “It's likedrums in a folk tune—yourfootinggivesyou the rhythmthat everything else shouldfollow. This lead foot is toofast,” and she stamped thatfoot to demonstrate, “theswing and plant should besimultaneous.”“Igotyou,didn'tI?”“Ican'tdefendinthisstyle,

Andrey,” she told him, with

barelyrestrainedtemper.“I'mnot strong enough.” Onething Andreyis did havegoing for him lately was hisreach. She could barelybelievehowtallhe'dbecome,still recalling the awkward,nervous boy she'd wrestledwith, climbed trees with anddefended imaginary castleswith against equallyimaginary hordes ofbloodthirsty Cherrovanwarriors.Now,thetopofher

head came barely to hisshoulder,andtheswingofhisarms, though lacking thepower of a grown man,generated considerable speedwith stanch or sword. “Now,areyougoingtolistentome,or am I just wasting mytime?”Andreyis must have seen

the dark look in her eyes forhe held up both hands,defensively. “I'm listening.Showmeagain?”

Shetookhimthroughallofthe fundamental taka-dans,whichwerenotsodifferentinbasic strokes to svaalverdtaka-dans, truly. And sheacquiredseveralmorebruisesalong the way, for Andreyisknew better than to pull hisstrokes—if he acquired thatbadhabitbeforetheheadmenat the ceremony, he'd remaina boy for one more,humiliatingyear,andhavehishair cut short once more.

Mostly, she concentrated onfootwork,whichwas theonething svaalverd and Lenaystyleshadincommon.Exceptthat the serrin understoodbalance andmomentumwithfar greater sophistication.Sometimes, svaalverdknowledgecouldassistanon-svaalverd fighter, whateverKessligh's doubts. She'd seenit herself, in Andreyis'simprovements.And saw it again now, as

he smacked her stanch backto a hard blow against herright thigh.Andreyis grinnedoutright. Sasha scowled athim, rubbing her leg. “Itwasn't that good,” she toldhim. “Your elbow lostextension again, you'd haveso much more power if youcould keep the lead armstraight.”Andreyis slung the stanch

over his shoulder and gaveher an exasperated look.

“Youjustcan'tstandtoadmitwhensomeone'sbeatenyou,”hetoldher.“Oh you think that, do

you?”Sashasaidloudly.“You've always been like

that!” Andreyis retorted.“Like that time I beat youracinguptheroadfromtownand you insisted Peg had acold?Or the time I beat youat the knife throw and, ofcourse, you justhappened tohave a sore elbow? Or that

time…”“Okay then, let's try that

again,” Sasha told him,resuming her fighting stance.Andreyis followed,eyeshardwith concentration, lipspressedthin.“Thistime,Igettofightmyway.Ready?Go.”Andreyis paused a few

moments,poisedon theballsofhis feet, awaiting the rightmoment. Then he attacked.Sasha met his lead overheadwith a firm blade—it jarred

herarms,butwhensheknewit was coming, she did havethe strength for it. Then shestopped being polite, swungan angular intercept to thestrike that followed,deflecting Andreyis awayfrom whatever he'd intendednext, and left him open forhercounterslashthatsmackedintohisribsbeneathhisrightarm.Andreyis staggered

sideways at the force of it,

dropping his stanch andholding his chest. “I've toldyou before,” Sasha saidfirmly, as he doubled over,winded, “you can't maketraining personal, Andrey. Itcan't be about egoandpride,it has to be about improvingyourtechnique.Nowifyou'lljustgetthisstupidnotionthatyoucanbeatmeatsvaalverdoutofyourhead,thenmaybewe can get back to fixingyourfootwork,yes?”

Andreyisdidnotreply,stilldoubled over. Sasha's temperfled, replaced by concern.The sound her stanch hadmadeagainsthisbandacameagain to memory…Howcould she have been sostupid? She hadn't needed tohithimthathard!“Andrey!”Shedroppedher

stanch and grabbed him,carefully. “Oh spirits,Andrey! Spirits, I'm sostupid…I'm sorry, Andrey, I

wasn't thinking. Are youokay?”Andreyis took a deep

breath and winced, holdinghisside.“Ithinkyoucrackeda rib,” he said in a smallvoice.Sasha swore, loudly.

“Look…just sit down.Damnit, I'msucha fool!Comeon,sit. Here.” She helped himdown and began unstrappinghis banda.Andreyis triednotto breathe deeply, or move.

She lifted the padding away.“If you can lift your arm atall,I'llgetyourshirtoff,”shetoldhimanxiously.“Canyoudothat?”“Don't bother,” Andreyis

said, in a small, muffledvoice.“Don't bother?”She stared

at him, aghast. “Andrey, Ihave to look. I can see if it'sbroken, then…then maybeKesslighwillhavesomethingto help it heal…Spirits, why

am I such an idiot? Justbefore the Wakening too!WhatwasI…”And then she saw the grin

on Andreyis's face and thereason his voice had beenmuffled. He was trying tostop from laughing. Shestared at him, dumbfounded.Somethingbubbledupinside,halffury,halflaughter.“You!You…” She turned about,fetched up her stanch andthought about removing his

head with it. Andreyis putboth arms over his head,shaking uncontrollably, butnotwithfear.Shethrewthestanchdown,

hard.“Youutterbastard!”sheshoutedathim.“IthoughtI'dreallyhurtyou!”“You did!” Andreyis

retorted, now indignantdespite his laughter. “It hurtlike hell! Serves you right,hot-temperedwench!”Sasha cuffed at the top of

his head, but missed onpurpose. And found herselflaughing. “Oh thank thegods,” she sighed, and satheavilybesidehim.Andreyis made the spirit

sign, with his left hand.“Don't say that,” he said.“Not in the circle.” Not thatthere was a proper tachadarcirclebeneaththevertyntree,but one did not praiselowlands gods within them,lestthespiritsbeoffended…

“Oldhabit,”saidSasha.Andreyis winced again as

hetookadeepbreath.“Istilldon'tknowhowyoudothat.Iwasalmostoverpoweringyoufor a while there, and thenyoujust…”“Technique is more

powerfulthanmuscle,”Sashasaidsimply.“Ifmytechniqueis superior, my strength ofmuscle is irrelevant. EvenJaegar can't touch thesvaalverd.”

Andreyis frowned. “So nonon-svaalverd fighter evenhas a chance? Then how didthe Saalshen Bacosh armieseven take any losses in allthose wars the Larosalaunchedagainstthem?”Sasha shook her head.

“That's a different kind offighting.TheBacoshwarsareall armour and shields, hugeformations of men with noroomtoswing.Iwouldn'tlasta heartbeat in that kind of

fight. You'd do better thanme, probably. The SaalshenBacosh armies are soformidable because theycombine the best of humantactics and mass formationswithserrinfightingtechniqueand serrin steel andcraftsmanshipinweaponsandarmour.”Andreyisjustlookedather.

Itwasa face thatmighthavebeen handsome, were it notso familiar. Despite his

eighteen summers, and thenew strength of his jaw andbrow, she could not help butnotice the boyish ears thatstuck out, or the reluctantnose.With his dark hair andfunnydarkeyes,hecontinuedto look…well, puppyish.Sadly, many other girls inBaerlyn seemed to think thesame.Thosegirlsonlyflirtedand giggled with the rough-and-tumble lads, andregarded a quiet, awkward,

thoughtful boy like Andreyiswithcooldisdainorworse.“AreyougoingtoPetrodor

with Kessligh?” he askedfinally.Sasha stared at him,

incredulously. “And abandonLenayin?WhatdoesKraylissdo when he arrives in Baen-Tar and discovers I'm notthere?At least if I'm there, Ican…I don't know. Try tokeep him under controlsomehow. The man's only a

hairsbreadth away fromopentreason.”Andreyis stared at his

boots. “I don't understand,”he said quietly. “I don'tunderstand why Kesslighwouldleave.”“That makes two of us,”

Sashasaiddarkly.“Is there…is there

something in the Nasi-Kethbeliefs that…I mean…” Heseemed at a loss for words.Sashaknewhowhe felt. “So

muchofwhattheserrinthinkis so strange and…I don'tknow, maybe he has hisreasons. Reasons we can'tunderstand.”“I'm Nasi-Keth,” Sasha

retorted, “and I don'tunderstand.”“Aye,butyou'renotreally

Nasi-Keth.”Sashafrownedathim. Andreyis blinked.“Well, you are Nasi-Keth,but…but you're Goeren-yaifirst,aren'tyou?”

“Theserrindon'tthinklikethat, Andrey. They can bemany thingsatonce,not likehumanswhocanonlybeonething at a time. The Nasi-Keth aren't a religion, they'rejust a collection of ideas andnoneofthemareexclusiveofother ideas. So most of thePetrodor Nasi-Keth areVerenthanes too—theypractise serrin teachings, yetthey pray to the Verenthanegods and hold temple

communion like anyVerenthane. So there's noreason a Goeren-yai can'tfollow serrin teachings…hells, a lot of Goeren-yaialready do, sort of. Serrinhave been coming here forcenturies, they'velefta lotofknowledgebehind.“But serrin don't have a

religion. They don't believejust one thing. They…”Damn, she'd tried to explainthis to various Baerlyners

before, but it was difficult.Now, it seemed important totry…for herself, as much asAndreyis. “They have a wayof thinking; they try to berational. It's not that theydon'tbelieveinanything,theydo…but that's the problem,they believe in everything.They don't go around sayingthis is impossible or that'simpossible, like humans do.They accept everyone'sbeliefs because they know

theycan'tdisprovethem.Andanythingyoucan'tdisproveispossible,right?”Andreyis frowned for a

moment, thinking that over.Proof.NoGoeren-yai,andnoVerenthane, ever thought ofproof. The spirits, or thegods, didn't need to beproven,theyjustwere.“SoifKessligh'sjustbeing

rational,” Andreyis ventured,“maybe…maybehe's right togo to Petrodor. Maybe he's

just smarter than us, maybehecanseethingswecan't.”“Aye,” said Sasha,

nodding. There was a slow-burning fury inside,now thatthe shock hadworn off.Anditwasbuilding.“He'sbeingageneral. In theGreatWar hehad to make nasty decisions—liberate some towns, leaveotherstodie;keepsomemeninreserve,sendotherstodie.Nasi-Keth teachings makehim good at that. He's a

rational commander. Hedidn'tbelievehewasgoingtowinabattlebecausethestarswereinalignment,orbecausethe priest gave him a holyblessing—heknewthatitwasuptohim,andhimalone,andhedidn'tjustleaveittofaith.That's why he won all thetime.“Hedid thatwithme, too.

He wouldn't say nice thingswhenImightwantthemsaid.He wouldn't comfort me, or

give any real affection. Hewanted me to be strongenough to take care ofmyself. It's all a part of thepattern, Andrey. He's sodamn sensible and intelligentit makes me want to throwup.”“But…” Andreyis's gaze

nowwasworried.“Butifhe'sthinking like a general, thensurely…surely he's going todo the right thing in theend,no matter what we might

thinkofitnow…”“Don'tyougetit,Andrey?”

Sashasnappedathim.“Don'tyouunderstand?Allthatmanever cared about was theNasi-Keth and the serrin.Hesaid as much himself. Henever renounced thoseloyaltiestomyfatherand,myfatherwassuchasoft-headedfool, he never demanded it.He's not interested in savingus, he's only interested insaving them! And now he's

been to Halleryn, he's seenwhat Krayliss is up to, andhe's decided we're all a lostcauseandhe'llgorunningoffto Petrodor to take care ofwhat's truly important tohim!”Sasha got to her feet and

snatched up her stanch fromthedirt.“Lenayinmadehimahero, it gave him all thisstatuswiththeNasi-Keth,andnow he's got it, he's finishedwith us. Well, he may be a

greatgeneral, andhemaybesmart and rational, but he'sgot no heart and no soul!Damned if I'll end up likehim. I'd rather stay here anddie for something I believein.”

Sashawas forkinghay in thebarnbehind the stableswhenthere came a new thunder ofhoovesfromoutside.Atfirst,

shebarelynoticed—Andreyishad been practising hiscavalry moves on the white-sockedmare,Rassy, and thissounded like just anotherpass. Then the hooves cameagain, only this time shecould hear two horses, onelighterthantheother.She lookeddownfromher

high bale as a little dussiehrode straight into the barn,riddenbya smallishGoeren-yai man she did not

recognise. Andreyis arrivedaswellanddismountedatthebarn'sentrance.“M'Lady Sashandra!” said

the man, sighting her abovehim. “M'Lady, I come fromCryliss! Lord Kumaryn ridestoBaerlynwiththeValhananBlackWolves and more! Hemeans to apprehend you andYuan Kessligh on charge ofmurder!”Sashafrownedathim.“Murder?” she said

incredulously. “Whosemurder?”“M'Lady, I'm not certain,

butIthinkitwasamanoftheFalconGuard.Alieutenant,Ibelieve.”Lieutenant Reynan Pelyn.

Sasha swore in disbelief.Tyree was Valhanan's closeneighbourand thenobilityofboth provinces were close;there were many marriagesand relations between thetwo. Family Pelyn was an

important family in theheirarchy of Tyree nobilityanditwouldbenosurpriseifthere were close relations toFamilyTathys,ofwhichLordKumarynTathysofValhananwashead.ButLordKumarynthought

topinthatdeathonher?Hadsomeone lied to protectJaryd?OrhadJarydbetrayedher?OrwasKumarynsimplydeterminedtoridhisprovinceof Valhanan's most

troublesome twosome? Hehad some balls, if that werethecase.Balls,orrocksinhishead.She stabbed her pitchfork

into thehaybale. “How longuntil they get here?” sheasked.“They departed at dawn,”

said the Cryliss man. “I leftbeforedawn,myhorseisfastoverdistances. I'dguess theymight be here a hand beforesundown.” The man's pony

waslatheredwhitewithsweatand breathing hard. “I gavewordtoseveralvillagesalongthe way, some pledged tosend help. Four other ridersfrom Cryliss set out in otherdirections, it remains to beseen if the help they sendarrivesintime.”“We'd best ride back and

tell the town!” saidAndreyisfrom the doorway, a littlebreathlessly.“There'snowaywe'll let him take you for

something you didn't do!Besides, he's got no rightsover Baerlyn; Baerlyn onlyanswerstotheking!”Sashaletoutashortbreath.

“I'llrideback,”shereplied.“IwantyouandLynette tostayhere…”“No!” Andreyis was

indignant.“Noway!Mytownisthreatened,you'renotgoingto stop me from defendingmypeopleandmyfamily!”Sasha jumped down to a

lower bale, then onto thefloor.“Andrey…someonehastostayhere,”shesaid,takingup her bandoleer withscabbard attached, andclipping it toherbelt. “If it'snot you, it'll have to besomeoneelse—wecan'tmakea defensive line forward oftheranch,we'llhavetoleaveitopentothem.ThoseCrylissbastardshavenever likedmeor Kessligh, they might justtaketheopportunitytosteala

few horses or damage thehouse, if there's no one hereto see it. You'll be safeenough, they'll never hurtchildren—”“I'mnotachild!”Andreyis

retorted.“Andrey…” Sasha sighed,

positioning the bandoleercomfortably over hershoulder,where the skinwastough beneath its familiarweight,“themarkofaLenaymanisthathedefendswhat's

his. This ranch is yours,Andrey,asmuchasitismineorKessligh's.Don'tyouwanttodefendit?”Andreyis looked

uncomfortable. “Of course Ido,butmyfamily…”“You think you can do a

better job of defending thevillage than the older men?Would it be a sensibleallocation of resources tosend one of the moreexperienced warriors here to

watch the horses, while youtake his place on the line?Would that make Baerlynsafer?” Andreyis looked attheground.Sashagatheredupthe armfuls of hay she'dpitched and began dumpingthem into the barrow. “Yourtime will come, just bepatient. Besides, it'll be justyou against an army. Soundslikemuchmorefun,wouldn'tyousay?”“Me and Lynette,”

Andreyisretorted.“Shecouldscratchthemtodeath.”Butheseemedmollifiedas

Sashawheeled the barrow tothestables.Sheexplainedthesituation to a wide-eyedLynette,whohadbeentakingher turn at stablework, andgatheredPeg fromhisgrassyfield for the ride into town.Lynette helped the Crylissrider to water and feed, andrubbed down his horse—thedussieh was clearly tired.

Sasha suggested he shouldleave the little mare to restand borrow one of her ownhorsesinstead.The Cryliss rider politely

refused. “She'll be good injust a little while,” heinsisted,givingthepony'sjawan affectionate rub as shechewed contentedly on somehay. “She'll run all day on acupofwaterandahandfulofgrass, thendo itallagain thenext.Nooffence,M'Lady,but

Iwouldn'ttradeherfortenofyour big brutes, no matterwhat the lowlanders pay forthem.”

Great Lord Kumaryn arrivedat Baerlyn as the lateafternoon sun hung low overthevalley.Hishostnumberedperhaps threehundred,Sashareckoned, a great, snakinglineofthunderinghoovesand

glinting helms. Banners withthe stallion on the red andgoldofValhanan flew to theforefront, alongside thehowlingblackwolfonblueofthe Black Wolves. Thecolumn came across theuphill paddocks beyond theupper treeline, threadingbetweenbouldersthatloomedfrom the green grass andglowedadull,irongreyinthelightfromtheloweringsun.Baerlyn's defensive line

spreadwideacross theuphillend of the Baerlyn Valley,concentrated here before theupslope buildings. All thevillage's men stood, or satahorse, weapons unsheathedand gripped with the casualease that a smithy mightgrasp his hammer. Somestood across the fences toeither side of the main road,in paddocks emptied oflivestock, before ricketywooden barns, shacks, and a

pigsty, keeping the linestraight.Sasha satbehind themain line on Peg, withKessligh astride Terjellyn atherside.Further to the left, the

exposed fields about thevalley'ssmallstreamheldthemajority of gatheredhorsemen,wardingaflankingmove. Amongst them weremany men from Yule,perhapsfivefoldsdistancetothe south, who had arrived

justafewmomentsbefore.They conceded Kumaryn

the high ground above thevalley'send;shouldanattackcome, they would fall backinto the village, where thebuildings and lanes wouldremovemuchofthecavalry'sadvantage, and strategicallyplacedropes,pikesandspearswould avail the localswordsmen of a surprise. Aswould some of the moreassertiveBaerlynwomenwho

had taken up Sasha'ssuggestion some years agoand learned archery. Theywaited now by the windowsof their houses, ready to putarrows into any passingattacker.LordKumaryndidnotline

his army across the openground atop the slope intoBaerlyn—suchamovewouldhave been almost adeclaration of war. Instead,the head of the column

approached between woodenfences that hemmed in theleading horses, just as thedefendershad intended.LordKumaryn wanted to talk,Sasha reckoned…at least fora while. A gaunt-faced manwith a large, pinched noseandawhitebeardhelduphishand. The three hundredhorse column came to a stopin clouds of sunlit dust. Ayoung man in lordly clothesrodeforward.Inonehand,he

carried the banner of FamilyTathys—a stone towerpiercedbyalightningstrike.Verenthane lords and their

family emblems, Sashathoughtsourly,watchinghim.Pompous fools. Fancyparading it around lowlandsstyle, as if the very presenceofthatbloodlineshouldcausemen to fall to one knee inreverence.“Greetings men of

Baerlyn!” the young man

cried, his voice high andclear. A squire, Sasharecalled such banner carrierswere called amongst thelordly classes. Anotherstupid, imported lowlandsword. Goeren-yai and theruralfolkofLenayinwerenotyeteducatedinsuchcivilisedterminology. Sasha hopedfervently that they wouldnever need to be. “MyGreatLord Kumaryn Tathys ofValhanan bids you

greetings!”“Aye,hello!”calledoneof

the Baerlyn men cheerfully,toaroaroflaughterfromtherest.The squire swallowed

nervously.“AsGreatLordofValhanan, Great LordKumarynhas ridden today toBaerlyn to claim his rightunder law! It has recentlycome to my Lord's attentionthat upon the recent ride ofthe Tyree Falcon Guard into

theprovinceofTaneryn…”“Where's your balls, lad?”

yelled another man. Sashathought it soundedsuspiciously like Teriyan.Morelaughter.“HelefttheminCryliss,by

the sound of it!” yelledanother.“Nay, Kumaryn borrowed

them!”Raucous howls. This,Sasha thought with a sigh,was quite certainly Teriyan.“Be fair, Kumaryn!Give the

lad his balls back, we knowyou'vegotnoneedofthem!”“Into the province of

Taneryn,” the squirecontinued, his high voicewavering. Sasha almost feltsorry for him. “There theGreatLordKumaryn'sdearestrelative, the LieutenantReynan Pelyn, of the nobleTyree family of Pelyn, andfamily to Great LordKumaryn through hismarriage to his sister's

cousin…”Groansofderisionfrom the Baerlyners. “…methis end in highly suspiciouscircumstances! Word fromtruth-loving men has placedthe blame for this callousmurder upon the person ofSashandraLenayin…”“Fuck off, you two-bit

fool!” came a yell withpreciouslittlehumourinit.“Nay!” came Teriyan's

loud reply. “Even for a fool,he'snotworthone-and-five!”

Behind the squire, at thehead of Kumaryn's column,Sasha noted many men whohad ridden forward to hear.Some were officers of theBlack Wolves, others werenoble Verenthanes, well-dressed and well-groomedatop their large horses.Several others were Goeren-yai—Cryliss had someGoeren-yai, Sasha knew,largely about the cityperimeter. A few Cryliss

Goeren-yai were wealthymerchants and traders liketheir Verenthane comrades,thoughnonehadyetaccepteda title.Most refused nobilityasaconcept.Swordworkandhonour,notwealthand titles,made the measure of aGoeren-yai man. And SashaknewsomeVerenthaneswhofeltthesame.“And so,” the squire

resumed, now utterlyflustered, “Great Lord

Kumaryn demands by thepowers of law vested in himthat the Lady Sashandra behandedovertohiscustodyatonce, for a trial by theprocedureslaidoutwithintheking'slaw!”The squire finished and

backed up his horse. Ironicalapplausefollowedhim.“Welldone,lad!”someoneshouted.“Fucking incomprehensible,butwelldone!”Jaegar walked forward

from the line. Like many inLenayin, he disdained horseswhen there was a chance tofight on foot. In rugged,forested Lenayin, that wasoften. His leather jerkin hadnosleevesandhewieldedthemassive blade in his hand asifitwereatwig.“Lord Kumaryn!” he

shouted, in a deep, yeteloquent voice. “I'm verysorrythatyou'vecomeallthisway for nothing! Baerlyn

swears its allegiance to thekinginBaen-Tar,nottoyou!You have no authority toapprehend or administer atrialagainstanyman,womanor child of Baerlyn in thename of justice! Justicebelongs to the king, not toprovinciallords!Goodbye!”The gaunt-faced, white-

bearded man rode forwardatop a dappled, grey-whitemare.His cloakwas red andgold,andheworeablueshirt

and leather vest over chain.Sasha saw the sweat on hisbrow.Hehadtohaveatleastfifty summers…didn't theheatbotherhim?Sheswattedat a fly…up here about thepigandsheepenclosures, thefliesbredsomethingfierceinsummer.“Master Jaegar, I

presume?” Kumaryn calleddownfromhishorse.“Yuan Jaegar,” Baerlyn's

headman corrected. He

planted his swordtip on theroad and folded his handsatop the hilt, feet set wide.Kumaryn's blue eyes werecoldwithdisdainandhisnosewaswrinkled.“Youforgetyourself,Yuan

Jaegar,” said Kumaryn. Hedidnot speak loudly enough.Further along the line, menwere straining to hear. “I amGreatLordofValhanan.Thattitle was granted to FamilyTathys a hundred and three

yearsagobyKingSorosandhascarriedontomefrommyfather and grandfather beforeme. I rule Valhanan, YuanJaegar.Bestthatyourecall.”“No, you tax Valhanan!”

Teriyanretortedfrombehind.“In these parts, we callsomeone who takes moneywhilst giving nothing inreturnathief!”A cheer went up. Jaegar

held up a hand and the menquieted. “The king's law is

quite explicit,” he said, veryreasonably. “A provinciallordmaylevyapropertytax,and nomore, for the upkeepof provincial affairs. Aprovincial lordwilldealwithsuchlocalmattersoflawandorder thatdonotconcern theking…”Some of the mounted

nobles were laughing. “Youthink to lecture me on theking's law?” said Kumaryn,smilingcoldly.

“No, well, I thought theremight be somedisagreement,” Jaegar saidconversationally, “so Ibrought along a copy.” Hewaved to Teriyan, whostepped from the line with ascroll inonehandandswordin the other. The nobles’smiles faded. Teriyanunravelled the scroll forJaegar to read from. “Aye,here it is. The rights andresponsibilities of the office

ofprovinciallordship.”“Aye, that'd be you then,

wouldn't it?” Teriyansuggested to Kumaryn withan insolent grin. Kumarynglared, fingering the hilt ofhissword.“The law of Lenayin shall

beadministeredbytheking,”Jaegar continued, readingeasily from the scroll. Someof the nobles lookedastonished. No doubt manyhad presumed that all

Goeren-yai were illiterate.“Onmatterspertaining to theprovincial lord's peace, saidlord shall be considered anofficer of the king, for thepurposeof justice.Provincialaffairs beneath the king'sconsideration shall includecommontheft,rape,affairsofmarriage and all pertainingrights and properties,matterspertaining to contests ofhonour, disputes of land andboundaries…”

“Where does the scrollcome from?” one ofKumaryn's party saidsuspiciously.“A copy,” Jaegar said

mildly. “Those among uslearned in writing do makecopies of such things anddistribute them among thevillages. You never knowwhenthey'llcomeinhandy.”“You can read Torovan?”

another asked, with equalsuspicion.

“It's a translation,” Jaegaradmitted.ItwassaidthatKingSoros

hadbarelyspokenanyLenaywhen he had arrived inLenayin all those years ago,Sasha knew. Raised inPetrodor from childhood,having been smuggled fromCherrovan-occupied Lenayin,he'd known mostly Torovan,and most official documentsof the period remained inTorovanevennow.

“Enoughofthisnonsense!”Kumaryn barked. His facewasreddishnow,partlyfromtemper, and partly, Sashasuspected, from the heat.“You defy your lawful lord!ThegirlSashandraisaccusedbefore the law! If you resistmy lawful request, I shalltake her by force and haveBaerlyn declared a village oftraitors!”“If there is anaccusation,”

Jaegar retorted, his tone

hardening, “then the lawexplicitly states that she isanswerable to the king, andthe king alone. You are theking's officer, my Lord. Aservant. And the accused,may I remind you, is theking'sdaughter…”“A title she renounced

twelve years ago when sheabandonedhimtotheserviceof that foreign cult!”Kumaryn glared straight atherforthefirsttime,overthe

headsofarmedBaerlynmen.“Youshallyield,oryoushallfacetheconsequences!”“Got a lot of gall, doesn't

he?” Sasha suggested toKessligh. Kumaryn was thegreatest fool inLenayin ifhethought this pathetic bluffwasgoing towork.Kessligh,however,lookedgrim.“Hey look!” came a shout

fromaBaerlynman.“There'sMasterWensyl,hebrews thefinestaleinCryliss!Whatare

you doing with these damnfools,Wensyl?”Wensyl, a Verenthane

noble,lookeduncomfortable.“Have you nothing to say

for yourself?” Kumarynshouted at Sasha. “Will younotsparethelivesofyourso-called friends? Or shall youhide behind them like acoward?”“IamavillagerofBaerlyn,

Lord Kumaryn,” Sashareplied calmly. “I obey my

village council, like anyvillager.Shouldtheywishmetoleavewithyou,Iwoulddoso. However, I've heardoppositesentimentputtome,verystrongly.”Sheshrugged.“It'soutofmyhands.”A Goeren-yai man jostled

his horse to the fore ofKumaryn's party. “I've heardenough!” he announced. Hewore the good clothes of awealthycityman,yethisbaldhead wore long hair at the

back and his ears wereadorned with rings. “This isthe stupidest excuse toslaughteranentirevillageI'veyet heard! If there's fighting,I'montheirside!”He nudged heels to his

horse and rode through theBaerlyn lines to raucouscheers, yells and raisedblades.“AnadrysDenaryn!”yelled

a noble at Kumaryn's side,levellingabladeathim.“You

areatraitortoyourlord!”But more Goeren-yai city

men were pushing down thecolumn and crossing into theBaerlyn lines, some wavingcheerfully to their newfriends as they came. Jeersand catcalls accompanied thecheering as Kumaryn, hisnoble friends and officersfumed.“I said I'd come to help in

the fight!” the man namedAnadrys yelled back at

Kumaryn across the gap. “Ididn'tsayonwhichside!”“Come on, Wensyl!” the

manwho had shouted out tohimbeforewasyellingabovethenoise.“Theman'sanass!You don't want to fight forhim.Comeoverthisside!”“He's Great Lord of

Valhanan!”Wensylprotested,almostapologetically.“So what? Does he own

yourhonour,ordoyou!”Wensyl grimaced, rode

acrosstothemaninquestionand dismounted. Kumaryn'scomrades yelled at him tocome back, but Wensyl wasnow engaged in a heateddebate with his Baerlynfriend and several others. Apair of Baerlyn menapproached Kumaryn, whosecompanions raised weaponsinthreat,butaBlackWolvessergeant intervened, and thatbegananewargument.Moremen crossed the line,

weapons gesticulatingdangerously, and suddenlythe grim face-off haddegenerated into a milling,chaotic debate betweensometime friends, tradingpartners and tournamentcontestants, as men foundothers they knew on bothsides.Sasha found herself

grinning. It was approachinga farce. She knew what thelowlanderswould say if they

could see this. “Lenayrabble.” Ill-disciplined,chaotic and leaderless.Uncivilised. Barbarian. Allwerequitepossiblytrue.AndSasha had rarely felt anymore proud of the fact thantoday.Some dried horse manure

sailed dangerously close toKumaryn's head, but it wasimpossible to tell who'dthrown it. Sasha sawGeldonclimbontoanadjoiningfence

and call to someone in thecolumn he recognised,followed by handshakes andgreetings—Geldon suppliedbread to Cryliss and boughtgrain from them, Sashaguessed this was one of hispartners. Anadrys and theotherGoeren-yaiwho'dcomeover were calling toVerenthanefriendsstillinthecolumn, someof them in theBlackWolves.The men of the Black

Wolves now appearedconfused, looking to theirlord for direction. Theirdisquiet was obvious—suchcompanies had been used bylord or king to hit rebelliousvillages before, but this wasdifferent. No Lenay manliked to be seen as another'svassal.NoLenaywarriorwasobliged to follow adishonourable command,whatever their oaths. Somemoremanureactuallyhitone

of Kumaryn's nobles.Kumaryn signalled furiouslyforawithdrawalandthelongcolumnbeganaslowreverse,leavingmanyoftheirnumberbehindtocontinuethedebate.“Somuch for that,” Sasha

said cheerfully to Kessligh,watching them leave.Kumaryn now seemed infurious argument with theBlackWolves captain. If theWolves refused to fight, thatwastheendofit.

“Nothing to be pleasedabout,”Kessligh said grimly.“The nobility becomesambitious. They're flexingtheir muscles, demonstratingtheirpowertotheking.”“And failing,” Sasha

retorted, steadying Peg'simpatient head toss. “There'snot enough of them inValhanan, just the big townsand Cryliss. Rural folkoutnumber them by a lot,their power is less than they

think.”Jaegar and Teriyan came

back to Sasha and Kessligh,who dismounted to meetthem. A councilman fromYule joined them—Tarynt, asmall,oldermanwithabushybeardthattrieddesperatelytomake him look larger, andfailed.“Thank you for that,”

Sasha said, knowing as shespokethatitwasunnecessary.“I'mgrateful.”

“Would have done it evenif you were guilty,” Jaegarsaidwith a shrug, swiping ata fly. “He's got no right, andhe knows it. We let him dothis, it's a whole slipperyslopefromthere.He'llnotgeta warrior nor a horse nor amangychickenfromus.”“Justwhendidthelordsof

Valhanan start fighting theTyree nobility's wars?”Taryntaskedwithconcern.Jaegar took a swig of his

small water skin and spat.“Kumaryn overreached thistime. He was never verybright.Hopefullyhe'llgetthemessagenow.”“He wasn't sending a

message to the villages,”Kessligh said grimly. “Hewassendingamessagetotheking. They all were. They'vehadatasteofpowernowandtheywantmore.”“Aye,” said Teriyan, “it's

the grand crusade to civilise

Lenayin. First it's thelowlandsgods, then it's land-owning lords, peasants andfeudingarmies,andsoononeday no one will rememberwhat it ever meant to beGoeren-yaiandfree.”Teriyanwasalwaystheeducatedone,Sashareflected.Theonewhoknew far more than hiswisecracks and bragging leton.“Over my dead body,”

Jaegarsaidsimply.

“Alloftheirstoo,”Teriyanagreed.“Did you kill this…this

lieutenant person?” Taryntasked Sasha curiously. Themen of Yule had rushed tohelp at a moment's notice.Evidently they had not heardall the circumstances whentheycame.“Lieutenant Reynan?” said

Sasha. “No. It was JarydNyvar.Reynanwas trying tokill me from behind. Jaryd

savedmylife.”“Nyvar!”Taryntpursedhis

lips into a whistle. Evenvillage Goeren-yai knew andrespected that name.Tournaments were notcombat…but then, it was farmore to respect a man forsuccess in tournaments thansuccess in titles or wealth.“Spirits,that'samess.Isn'thearelation,or…?”“Of Reynan, aye,” said

Jaegar, nodding. “No doubt

somequickwitsawachanceto pin it on Sasha beforeanyone could say otherwise.Perhaps they reckon Jarydwill comply and deny it washim.”“Aye, his papa will twist

his arm to that,” Teriyanagreed.“They lack numbers, but

thelordlyclassesmakeupforit in unity,” Kessligh saidgrimly. “Goeren-yai disunity,now, they're relyingon.Why

aren't Sedyn or Dayenvillages here? They're closerthanYule.”“Small matter of ancient

bloodfeud with Sedyn,” saidJaegar uncomfortably,glancing over his shoulder.TheCryliss columnappearedto be forming a line on theupper slopes near the trees,but there was nothing oforderliness about it.“Dayen…well, they're nearerCrylissthanweare.Plentyof

folkmake goodmoney fromthe wealthy families, don'twanttoupsetthemmuch.”“Makessense,”Taryntsaid

cheerfully. “Us in Yule,we've not a bean betweenus!”Hecackled.Kessligh, Sasha saw, was

looking straight at her. Sheknew that look. “What?” shebristled.“They want you dead,

Sasha,” he said flatly. “Theyneed theGoeren-yai divided,

as Goeren-yai always are.They want to make Lenayininto a model of lowlandscivilisation, with vastlyincreased powers, lands andwealth for themselves.Todothat, they wish all obstaclesremoved. They think LordKrayliss might unify theGoeren-yai,sotheywanthimdead. And now there's you,withalltherumours…”“Bugger the rumours!”

Sasha said hotly. “I'm not

doing anything! I'm just…here!”“Exactly. They'd like you

elsewhere.”“And you'd oblige them?”

she asked incredulously.“Send me running off toPetrodor with you like acoward because some fancy-dressnoblethreatenedme?”Jaegar and Tarynt looked

uncomfortable, as in themanner of men who'dstumbledintoaprivatefamily

spat. Teriyan watchedcuriously.“No,”Kesslighsaidtightly,

withasdarkascowlasSashahadeverseen.“Thechoiceisyours.It'salwaysbeenyours.Gogetyourselfkilled,Iwon'tstop you.” He strode andleapedintoTerjellyn'ssaddle,spurring hisway through theBaerlyn line and up the roadin the wake of the retreatingcolumn.“He's impossible,” Sasha

muttered,handsonhips.Teriyan opened his mouth

toremark,butJaegarcuthimoff.“He'srightaboutitbeingdangerous for you, Sasha.With a war coming, theVerenthanes think their timehas come.Your fathermightwish to protect you, but nopower inLenayin is absolute—it's agreatbalancingact—andifthelordsallfindyouamenace, even King Torvaalcan't protect you. Today is

justthefirststrikeofmany.”All because the stupid

Larosa in far-away Bacoshcouldn't stand to live side byside with the serrin. A dullpanicsettledinSasha'sgut.Itwasn't fair. Baerlyn was herhome. It scared her, all thistalkofleaving.ShelookedatJaegar desperately. AtTeriyan, taller, and with aconcernedfrown.“What do you think I

shoulddo?”sheaskedthem.

Jaegar sighed andscratched at his scalp. “I canonly really give you counselwhere the affairs of Baerlynareconcerned,Sasha. It'snotmy place to be givinginstructions to the king'sdaughter…”“I'm not asking for

instructions,damnit!Just…”she turned away inexasperation, “just a littleadvice! I can't ask Kessligh,he'sstubbornasamuleforall

theNasi-Keth's talk of open-mindedness—he either tellsmewhatIdon'twanttohear,or tells me an uman can'tdictatetheuma'spath.”“You areNasi-Keth, aren't

you?”Jaegarasked.Sasha felt uncertain. She

shouldn't,sheknew.Kesslighhad devoted twelve years ofhis life to her. But now, heaskedforthingsfromherthatshe did not know if shewasprepared to give. “Yes,” she

saidquietly.Jaegar shrugged, broadly.

“We are Goeren-yai, Sasha.We believe in following apath. Your path is with theNasi-Keth. Perhaps youshouldgowithyouruman.”Sasha stared at him. “And

abandontheGoeren-yai?”“Are you our saviour?”

Jaegar asked, with aneyebrowraised.Sasha blinked. “I never

said…I mean, I never

thought…”“Thenwhystay?”“Youdon'twantmeto?”A

lump threatened to grow inherthroat.Jaegar sighed. “It's not

about what I want, Sasha. Iam headman. I am alsoumchyl, the spirit talker. Ihelp to find the path desiredby the spirits. Especially inthe young in the Wakeningceremony and beyond. Thepath does not care what I

want. The path is yours, andonly you can decide if youshalltakeit.”“I care!” Sasha protested.

“Ifyoudon'tthinkIcanhelp,if you don't think I'll bringany more than just trouble,thenI'llleave!Idon'twanttobringthosebastardsdownonBaerlyn again, I just wishsomeonewould…wouldhavethe balls to tell me…to tellme…” She gave up inexasperation and turned to

leave before the buildingdesperate emotion escapedhercontrol.Teriyan caught her arm,

hard. “I'll tell you,” he saidfirmly. “I don't claim to besome spirit-talking wisemanlikemyfriendhere…”Jaegarsmiled, faintly. “But I thinkyou should stay. This, thisnonsense…”hewavedahandtoward the disorganisedrabble of Cryliss warriorsacross the upper slopes, “…

it's been coming for ahundredyears.Nooffence toyour great-grandfather,Sasha, but let's be honest—King Soros was raised aTorovan, he'd barely knownLenayin.Hedidagreatthingridding us of the Cherrovan,but he had no real ideawhatto do with Lenayin itselfexcepttotryandremakeitintheimageofthelowlands.“So he turns all his most

loyalchieftainsandclansinto

noble families as reward forservice, but only thendiscovers theGoeren-yai andthevillageswon'tstandforit,sohewatersdownthenobles’powers to avoid civil war.The nobility bought it thenbecauseitseemedbetter thannothing, and they thoughtthey'd try to increase theirpowers by stealth…but acentury later and they'regrowing impatient. KingSoros promised them they'd

be full-fledged noble lordslike in theBacosh, not limp-dickpuppets.“We can't let them win,

Sasha. You matter to theGoeren-yai. Damn it,Kumaryn's right to worryaboutyou,farmorethanheisto worry about that buffoonKrayliss. Of all the royalchildren of Baen-Tar, you'rethe first who truly loved theGoeren-yai. Itmeans a lot topeople,Sasha.”

“The second,” Sasha saidquietly. “Krystoff loved theGoeren-yaitoo.”“Aye,thathedid,”Teriyan

agreed. “But Prince Krystofflived in Baen-Tar and onlyknewusassoldiersheservedwith and servant girlsworking in the palace. Youlive here. The spirits arebound to the land, Sasha.They live in the rocks in thehills, and the trees of theforest, and the dirt beneath

your feet. You're the first ofall Lenay royalty to be here,and to feel it. I'mnot itchingto lead somedamn rebellion,Sasha…but damn it, youknow what the stakes are inthis.Weneedallthehelpwecan get. And if men getdesperate enough thatKrayliss looks like the onlyalternative…then spirits saveus.”Tears prickled in Sasha's

eyes.Shetookadeepbreath,

pig-smelling air and all.“Thank you,” she said. “I'llhelp. I have to talk to myfather. Once upon a time,men say he used to listen toreason.Perhapshestillwill.”“That damn Archbishop

Dalryn jerks your father'sstrings now,” Taryntmuttered. “Himandyour bigbrotherKoenyg.”“Thenwe'lljusthavetosee

what we can do about that,”Sasha replied, with firming

resolve.“Shan'twe?”

SOFY STOOD AT THE EDGE ofthe stable's mustering yard,watchingthemillingchaosofhorses and soldiers in theblazingtorchlight,asfrenziedshadows splashed acrossneighbouring buildings andthe towering innerstonewallofBaen-TarCity.Anysewas

at her side, trying to hold aspare cloak over herprincess's head and ward offthe light, chill rain. Sofyrecognised Damon,surrounded by RoyalGuardsmen, their gold andred distinct amidst the greenoftheFalconGuard.As he dismounted,

stablehands rushing to takehishorse,shecaughtsightofa second group of verydifferent riders. They wore

thedarkskinsandleathersofthe Goeren-yai, their hairlong and wild, some withringsintheirearsthatglintedin the torchlight. The bannercarriedbyonewastheironlyidentification—green withthree diagonal black stripes.Taneryn. One man inparticular was giving orders—a huge man in a big furcoat with a bushy beard tomatch.Anyse's arms were clearly

tiring. “Oh Anyse,” Sofyscolded her, “it's barelyraining!”“YourHighnesswill catch

a chill,” Anyse saidstubbornly.“You're getting wet, you

should be more worried foryourself.”“Goeren-yai don't catch

chills,”Anyse replied. “Onlystubborn princesses whoshould havemore sense thanto venture out on stormy

nights.”Then Damon was

approaching, his mud-spattered boots splashing inpuddles. In his full colours,armour and sword, Sofybarely recognised him…untilhe pulled off his helm,revealingafacetiredandwetwith rain, his dark hairplastered flat to his head.Hesaw Sofy and managed awearysmile.Sofy refrained with

difficulty from hugging him,settling instead for a sisterlykiss on both his cheeks.“Walkwithme,”he toldher.“ImustpresentLordKraylissimmediately to father. Nodoubt there are things to besaid.”“Lord Krayliss!” Sofy

gasped, hurrying to walk athis side. “So that's who thatbigmanwiththebeardis!”Anyse gave up trying to

cover Sofy's head, walking

insteadatherheelsalongsideaRoyalGuardsmanwhotookDamon'shelmforhim.“What happened?” Sofy

asked Damon as theyfollowed the torchbearerstoward Soros Square. “WhyisKraylisshere?Didhecomewillingly?Ihaven'tbeenabletodiscovera thing lately; it'sbeensofrustrating!”Damon smiled faintly.

“Sasha fought a duel againstFarys Varan, son of Udys

Varan.”Sofy staredathim,aghast.

“Aduel!Isshe…?”“Our sister is well,”

Damon pronounced, withmorethananedgeoftension.“Farysisnot.”Sofyclaspedahandtoherchestwithagaspofrelief.“Kraylissapparentlytook this as a sign from thespirits…one in particular hecalled the Synnich. He nowclaimsSashaisguidedbytheSynnich and has placed

himself under the protectionof her word. Otherwise, I'msureheandLordUsynwouldbe fighting to the death rightaboutnow.”“A duel!” Sofy exclaimed

once more, in disbelief. Pastthat announcement, she'dheardvery littleDamonsaid.“What was Sasha doingfightingaduel?Yousworetomeyou'dlookafterher!”“Sofy,” said her brother

with exasperation, “one does

not ‘look after’ Sasha, anymore thanone‘looksafter’awild animal. She does whatshedoes,and thebestany inher vicinity can hope is toremainaliveattheendofit.”And to Sofy's continuing,accusatory stare, he added,“Farys insulted Krystoff'smemory. It was calculated,I'msurehiseldersputhimuptoit.”“Oh dear lords,” Sofy

exclaimed. And shook her

head in despair. “Old familyhistory. I swear nothingcauses more catastrophes inthiskingdom thanold familyhistory.Shallweeverbefreeofit?”“Twelve years is not old

history, Sofy,” Damon saidsombrely. “I rememberKrystoffwell.”Sofygazedathim. He seemed moreserious,somehow,thanwhenhe had left. More adult. Thelookinhiseyeswasthelook

of a young man concernedwith matters far greater thanhimself. Prior to this ride,therehadnotbeensomanyofthose.“Whatisit,Damon?”Sofy

asked him. “What happenedoutthere?”Damon sighed and shook

his head. “I'll tell you later,”hesaid.The road opened onto

SorosSquare, a vast expanseofstonepavingcentredbythe

Verenthane Angel of Mercy.On the leftwere grand stonebuildings fronting the squarewith ornate facades, pillars,arches and windows. To theright, the great front gate,open to the traffic of earlyevening and surrounded bymany guards who warmedthemselves near the blazingfiresbeyondthewall.“Sasha sends her love,”

Damonadded.“She is coming to

Rathynal?”Sofyasked.“She'dbetter,”Damonsaid

darkly.“Kraylisswillmakeafussifshedoesn't.”“AndKessligh?”“Thatwastheimpression.”

Sofywas glad to hear that…and yet nervous, too. Therewereprobablyonlythreemenshe'dknowninherlifewhomshe'd never been able tocharm: Her father, Koenygand Yuan KesslighCronenverdt.HelovedSasha,

thatwas clear to her, even ifSasha was sometimesuncertain, and therelationship they shared wasutterly remarkable in itsunlikeliness. And yet,somehow,whenhe lookedatSofy, she felt it was as if hesaw straight through her andwasconsideringthetextureofherbones.“Oh well,” she sighed,

trying to get her thoughtsback into order. “More

people. I swear I'll go crazytryingtorememberthemall.”“I doubt Kessligh will be

attending the events you'reorganising,” Damonreassuredher.“No?” Sofy said, with a

sudden, humorousinspiration.“You'recertainhewouldn'tlikeaformaldance?Perhaps a tour of theartworks? Or maybe someflower arrangements?Arrangements are all the

fashion in Petrodor now, it'sbecomingquiteanart.”“I'm sure all the important

people will have far moreimportant matters to attendto,” Damon retorted. Sofyscowled at that. “ParticularlyKessligh.”“Not true!” said Sofy,

skipping sideways to jab adelighted finger at him.“Kessligh loves gardening,Sasha's toldme all about hispreciousvegetablepatch!She

says he even grows ythalaflowers in rows between thevegetables because they'regoodforthesoil!”Damon sighed and swiped

at his flattened hair, now alittle damp in the light rain.“Nasi-Keth are strange,” hesaid with a shrug. “I knowSashadoesn'thavemuchtimeforflowerarrangements.”“I don't know about that!

Sashalovesallwildthings.”“Exactly. She wouldn't

understand why you need tocut its head off to make itlook pretty. And I'd agreewithher.”“Well,atleastitwasn'tthe

two of you who fought theduel,” Sofy said with ameaningfulsidewayslook.“Itsounds like you have finallybecome at least civil witheach other.” Damon noddedglumly, but his attentionwaswandering. They passed thesquare's central statue, the

angel's wings andoutstretched arms making aghostly silhouette against thegloomy sky. Ahead, thespiresoftheSaintAmbellionTemplesoaredintothenight.“Damon,what'swrong?Whyareyousobrooding?”Damon's jaw tightened as

he walked. “I sent a scoutfrom the Falcon Guard tofollow the Hadryn,” he saidin a low voice. “Severalscouts, actually. They

volunteered. I was worriedourwiseLordUsynmightdosomethingstupid.”“Like?”“Attack the Udalyn,”

Damon said grimly. “Everybit of Goeren-yai trouble theHadryn get from Krayliss,they conveniently blame onthe Udalyn. It's as good anexcuse as they've had indecades. And with father'smind as it is lately, I don'tknowifhe'llstopthem.”

Sofy did not pretend tounderstand everything aboutthose old troubles…exceptthattheHadrynhadwantedtodestroytheUdalynsincelongbeforetherewaseveraLenayking. But she did understandsome of Damon'sresponsibilities on rides totroublesome provincesbeneath the king's banner.“Are you allowed to sendscouts across the Hadrynborder?”sheaskedanxiously.

“They're scouts,” Damonsaid shortly. “Wild men ofLenayin.Theygowheretheyplease…and, like I said, theyvolunteered.”Sofy guessed that the

answer to her question,therefore,was“no.”Shegaveherbrothera long,misgivinglook.“Ihopeyouknowwhatyou're doing,” she saidquietly.Damonsighed.“Metoo.”The procession passed the

wide steps leading up to thedoorsofthegreattemple.TheRoyal Palace loomedopposite, its many tallwindows ablaze with light,guardswaitingatthedoorstothe Grand Hall entrance.They crossed the road fromthe temple to the palace andclimbed the wet stairs,Damon recallinghismannersto offer an arm to his sister,approachingthosedoors.Through the grand foyer,

with tile-patterned floors andbusts of family-long-dead,thenintothehallproper.Theceilingarchedhighoverhead,beneathwhichfourenormouschandeliers hung suspendedalong the hall's length. Theprocession's footsteps echoedin the vast space.Groundsmen extinguishedtheir torches and departed,replaced by the senior hallmaster of the hour, leadingthewaywithbrownrobesand

a formal stride. Largepaintings and tapestrieslooked down from the highwalls. Ahead, servantsscurried, preparing to openthedoorstothethronehall.“Areyou invited?”Damon

asked, as Sofy showed nosignofstopping.“Assuredly,” Sofy said

sweetly.And itwasDamon'sturn to fix her with a waryglance. A princess at theking's formal business?

Surely not. But Damon saidnothing.The servants hauled the

doors open with a squeal ofweight-bearing hinges.Damon and Sofy walked thethronehall together, itsmanytall columns forming a rowdownthecentralaisletowardtheraiseddaisanditsthrone.Along that length, manyRoyal Guards stood toattention…and Sofywondered if it were merely

her imagination, or whetherthose guards truly were asattentive and edgy as theyappeared. Certainly therewere a lot of them and theirhands seemed uncommonlynear their weapons, restingupon the hilt of a sword orwith thumbs tucked into abelt.The king stood at the foot

ofthethree-stepdais,incloseconversation with Koenygand Father Dalryn—the

Archbishop of Lenayin. Theking wore his customaryformal black robes withgolden trim. Koenyg woresimilar, only with a greaterprominence of leather as onemight expect of a Lenaywarrior. All looked up atDamon and Sofy's approach,andtheprocessionthattrailedthem.At the last moment, Sofy

disengagedDamon'sarmandstood demurely to one side.

Koenyg did likewise, givingher a displeased, “What areyou doing here?” stare thatSofyignored.Thekingtookapace forward and extendedhis black-gloved hand.Damondropped to oneknee,took the hand and kissed it.Thenstoodandembracedhisfather, to one side and thenthe other. From the sides ofthedais,andfrombehindtherows of columns and guards,well-dressed nobility looked

on, their expressions bothgrim and anxious. LordKrayliss was not the first ofthe provincial lords to arriveinBaen-TarforRathynal,andBaen-Tar was becomingcrowdedwithimportantlordsand ladies from all overLenayin.“My son,” said King

Torvaal, his hands onDamon's shoulders.His face,with its dark, close-trimmedbeard, remainedas impassive

as his formal black robes.Verenthane black, like thoseofthearchbishop.Thecolourof purity. “News precedesyou of a crisis averted atHalleryn. Yet details arelacking.”“Aye, my Lord,” said

Damon.His expression,Sofysaw, was guarded. He rarelyworethatexpressionwithher.Shewouldspotitandsuspecthim of concealment. Shewondered if their father

would.No,shedecidedsadly,that was unlikely. ButKoenyg might. “LordKrayliss has cast himselfupon your justice, and hasaccompaniedmetoBaen-Tar.Heawaitsyouraudienceevennow.”A crease divided King

Torvaal'sdarkbrows,eversofaintly. “And how did thiscometopass?”Damon explained. Torvaal

listened,with the same faint,

dark frown. Sofy felt herheartbeatingfaster.“The girl had no right to

submit to those demands onmy behalf,” Torvaal saidwhen Damon had finished.Histonewasfirm,yetdevoidofobviousemotion.Asusual.“She serves the Nasi-Keth.Her privileges as a daughterof Lenayin were renouncedtwelveyearsago.Thekingisnotboundbyherword.”Damon's jaw seemed to

tighten, just a little. “Shesaved lives, my Lord,” hereplied. “Lord Kraylissadmitted to killing LordRashyd,thoughheclaimsjustcause. As such, his was thewrong deed under the king'slaw, and Lord Usyn Telgarwas merely reacting to thatwrong deed. Lord Kraylissdefied my original demandthathesubmittoyourjustice.To enforce your law, myLord, I saw that I had two

options—to join with theHadryn armies and defeathim by force of arms, or toagree to the terms providedby M'Lady Sashandra. Anassault would have costhundreds of lives on bothsides, and perhaps sparked abroader conflict betweenTaneryn and Hadryn thatcould have cost thousands. Ideemed the second optionmore sensible…with yourblessing,myLord.”

Koenyg, Sofy saw,appeared somewhat annoyed,althoughhehiditwell.Theirfather's expression remainedunchanged.Heconsideredhisson with thoughtful darkeyes,withinafacethatmighthavebeenhandsomeifithadjust once shown the faintesthint of levity. And thatthoughtgaveSofya familiar,melancholysadness.Torvaal nodded. “You did

well, my son,” he said, and

Damon seemed to relax alittle. “I will see LordKraylissnow.”Koenygmade a gesture to

the guards at the end of thehall and, once again, thedoors squealed slowly open.Damon and Sofy moved toKoenyg's side as Torvaalascended the three steps andsat in the simple, wood-carved throne. At the hall'send, a new processionappeared. Thesemen did not

walkwiththerefinementanddignity of Verenthanenobility. They swaggered,with heavy, muscular steps,swordsswingingagainsttheirlegs.Theirhairwaslong,tiedwith apparently randombraids. Gold glinted aroundnecks and along ears and,despite the uniform glow ofmany lamps, it seemedsomehow that the light onlycame from their right, for allthe men's left profiles

appeared cast dark intoshadow.Attheirheadstrodeahuge

bear of a man, abristle withwild hair and beard, and aswordsoenormousitsleatherbinder squealed as it swungfrom his belt. His girth wasgreater than two Damons,Sofy reckoned withamazement, and Damon wasa skinny lad no longer. Hisclothes were all leathers andskins, and his boots were

patterned with intricate,beautiful stitching. Onlywhen he and his men drewcloser could Sofy see theequally intricate tattoosacross the left side of theirfaces.NotallGoeren-yaimenwore the tattoos, Sasha hadtold her. Those who didbegan toadd the first strandsafter the Wakening, theGoeren-yai ceremony ofmanhood.The Taneryn contingent

haltedbeforethedais,staringabout them insolently. Therewere perhaps twenty men inall, Sofy reckoned. Sherealised then why the guardshadseemedonedge.Disquietspread throughout the hall, adisbelieving, angry murmur.It grew louder when LordKrayliss took a step forwardandstareddirectlyatthekingwithnosignofobeisance.“Kneel before the king!”

Koenyg demanded. King

Torvaal's expressionremained impassive.Krayliss's stare turned toKoenyg…Two dark, burningeyes within a bristling massofdarkhair.Thefurcoatoverhis huge shoulders added tothe bear-like effect. To theright side of his face lay along, winding braid,composed of three separatestrandsboundtogether.“Ha!”Kraylisslaughed,his

voice like a heavy drum at

festival. “The king's heirdefends his father's honour!”Withinthatmassofbeard,hislips appeared to twist inhumour. “That is good!Honourshouldbedefendedatall costs! Only know this,king's heir—not all men ofLenayin follow the path ofhonourquitesorigorouslyasothers.”Lord Krayliss knelt before

the dais, and his contingentdid likewise. His eyes,

however, did not lower.Around him, the angrymurmuring continued. Sofyfound herself wondering athisaccent—itwasnotunlikethe northern accents she hadheard, from men of Hadryn,Banneryd and Ranash. InLenayin, one could neveravoid the question oflanguages when determininga man's loyalties. Some saidthat the sooner all peoplesabandoned their mother

tongues and spoke onlyLenay, the better. But whatwould that cost thekingdom,to lose so much of theirancient ways forever? Menlike Krayliss would neverstand for it. And, quitepossibly, women like Sashatoo.“Lord Krayliss,” said the

king from his throne. Sofynoted Duke Stefhan andseveral of his Larosacontingent watching from

between the columns. Shewondered what they wouldmake of this very Lenayscene. “My son informs methatyouhaveriddentoBaen-Tar to place yourself withintheprotection,andthejustice,of the king's law. Is thiscorrect?”“No,” Krayliss said

proudly, looking his kingfirmly in the eye. Anotherangry muttering from thecrowd. “I am here on behalf

of my people. The ancientpeople, the last of the trueLenays.Itiswewhoarehereto judge your law, KingTorvaal. We shall judge itandweshallseeifwefinditworthy.”The king raised a hand to

forestall the angry wordsfrom the crowd. His mannerwas calm. “And whatexpectations do you hold,Lord Krayliss, of myjustice?”

Krayliss smiled a dark,unpleasant smile. “We inTaneryn have had a hundredyears experience of theVerenthane kings, KingTorvaal. A hundred years ofHadryn attacks. A hundredyears of Verenthane croniesand sycophants raised to thenobility of every lordship ofLenayin, tothepointwhereIstand before you as the lastremaining Goeren-yaichieftain in Lenayin. I shan't

hold my breath for yourjustice.”“If you have not cast

yourself upon the king'sjustice,” Koenyg said loudlyfrom Damon's side, “thenLordUsynTelgar'sclaimsofvengeancestillstand.Areyouwithintheking'sjustice,LordKrayliss,orareyounot?”“Aye, you'd like that,

wouldn't you?” Kraylissgrowled at Koenyg. “Anoutright invasion of Taneryn

bythebloody-handedHadrynto remove this mischievousLord Krayliss once and forall? Behold, the heir PrinceKoenyg! Not as talented asthe great, departed PrinceKrystoff, nor half as pretty Imight add, but a great friendto theGoeren-yaiofLenayinishe!”Hismenlaughedwithraucous, ugly humour.Koenygfumed.“Marchusallofftokillserrinbabiesinthelowlands,hewould!Makeus

abandon our farms and ourfamilies for a good year ormore so the Cherrovan cancomeraidingand theHadryncanrapeourwomenandstealourlivestockwithnoneofusheretodoadamnthingaboutit!”“That'senoughfromyou!”

shouted one noble from thecrowd, as others yelled theirdisapproval,andsuddenlytheguards were more concernedwithcontaining theobservers

than guarding the Taneryn.“Respect the king!” shoutedanother. Krayliss stoodunmoved before the dais andgazed proudly about at thecommotion he had caused.From his throne, Torvaalsimply watched. The noisebegan to die, but Kraylisswasn'tfinished.“Oh, you think I'm joking,

don'tyou?”heboomedtothehall at large, sweeping themwithhisshaggy-browedstare.

“YouthinkI'mjustgivingtheprince a jab or two? Thenwhatbythespiritsishedoinghere?” Krayliss levelled athick finger atDukeStefhan.“Yes, you, you perfumed,limp-wristedwystych!”Sofy'seyeswidened.Sasha

had told her that word—itwascommontooldValhananLereisuchaswasstillspokenin the valleys near Baerlynand to theTaasti languageofTaneryn.Itmeantsexualself-

gratification, Sasha had said.Between friends, it was ajoke. In the royal courts ofBaen-Tar, it was dangerousprovocation.“Behold,” Krayliss

continuedwith glee, “a dukeofLarosa—themostdefeatedBacosh province of the lasttwo centuries! The greatestlosers inallBacoshhistory!”At theduke's side, severalofhis men looked on withpuzzledconcern.Those,Sofy

reckoned,couldnotpenetrateKrayliss's thick accent…andjustaswell.Thedukesimplystared, dark and cautiousbeneath his fringe of curls.“Here in Baen-Tar forRathynal! Fancy that!Recruiting willing fodder foryour armies, are you,MasterDuke?Pleasetellusall,whatis the good Prince Koenyg'sgoing price for the life of apoorGoeren-yai farmer thesedays? Three pieces of

copper?Four?“We in the provinces are

not stupid.Weknow that theking's favourhasswungwitheach heir. Prince Krystofftrained to be Nasi-Keth andloved theGoeren-yai, and sowhile he lived the king didalso…until of course thenorthernersconspiredtohavePrince Krystoff killed incombat with the Cherrovan.All so that the good, devout,Verenthane Prince Koenyg

could take his place! Andnow they get their reward!Don'tthey,MasterKoenyg?”Deathlysilence.Sofycould

hear the shock. Could feel itemanating from the verystones. She had expectedanotheruproar,but therewasnothing. The typical Lenayresponse to such dastardlyaccusations was anger. Butthis…this feltmore like fear.Was that it? Were all theseVerenthane nobles actually

scared of LordKrayliss nowthat he had vastly,enormously overstepped themark of no return? Or werethey only scared of what hecouldunleashuponthem,andupon the entire kingdom?Sasha had said often that theGoeren-yai would neverfollow him…but what if shewaswrong?Sofy found herself staring

at a Royal Guardsmanstanding alongside Duke

Stefhan, his eyes wary, ahandonthehiltofhissword.That man, too, wore thetattooson the left sideof hisface and long, braided hairspilled from beneath hisgleaminghelm.Sodidnearlyhalf the Royal Guard. Whatwould happen to all thepowerfulpeople in this roomif the Goeren-yai rose up inopen rebellion? If the RoyalGuard were split down thecentre? If all the provincial

armiesdividedalongthelinesoftheirfaith?Suddenly, she could feel

the fear herself. Sasha hadsaid this, too. Had said howcrazyitwasfortheretobesofew Goeren-yai left in theseats of power. Surely therewas need for a calming,moderate voice to counterLordKrayliss's provocations.But who? Aside fromKrayliss, there were noGoeren-yai leaders left. The

trappings of noble powerwere tooVerenthane, and fartoo foreign, for the Goeren-yai's liking. It wasn't thelifestyle that they knew, orwanted.Suddenly, Sofy realised

what it was that Sasha hadfound so frustrating all theseyears. The Verenthanenobility had taken advantageof the Goeren-yai's naive,rusticgoodfaith.Distributingalltheseatsofpowerbeneath

the new, central throneamongst like-mindedVerenthaneshadbeen simpleand convenient—theGoeren-yaihadnotcomplainedanditmeant that Verenthaneswould not have to deal withtheir rural cousins’exasperating, uncivilised,pagan traditions. It had beensoeasy,andsorational,atthetime. Only now, when thenormally disinterestedGoeren-yai showed the first

signs of real anger with thethrone in a century, did theprice of those actions comesharply into the light. Now,the Goeren-yai looked forleadership…and found onlyLordKrayliss.Deargods,Sofythoughtto

herself. No wonder many ofthe initially outragedVerenthane nobles nowlooked a little pale. Kraylisswas picking a fight. Now,they wondered if they dared

toaccept.“Lord Krayliss,” said the

king, into that silence. “Youhave ridden to Baen-Tar tosubmityourselftomyjustice.Yet you make graveaccusationsagainstthethroneand against the throne'sfriends. How are we tobelieve that your intentionsarejustasyousay?”“The king's justice has a

champion in the eyes of theGoeren-yai,” Krayliss

rumbled. “Her name isSashandra Lenayin. Heruman is perhaps the greatestwarrior Lenayin has everknown. In the eyes of mypeople, her uman's path wasguided by the great Synnich,the most powerful spirit ofthese lands. Now, we haveseen with our own eyes thatthe Synnich guides the pathof Sashandra Lenayin also. Isubmit to your justice, KingTorvaal,ontheconditionthat

Sashandra Lenayin shallattend the proceedings andshall speak only the truth onmybehalf.Itisonhercredit,inmy eyes, that your justicerests.NothingmoredoIask.”“Sashandra Lenayin,” said

the king, “bears neither ranknorprivilegewithintheking'slaw.”Sofy couldhave swornshe sawLordKrayliss's eyesgleam, ever so faintly, as ifsensing an opportunity.“But,” the king continued,

“forthepurposesofthatride,shewasbeneaththeauthorityofKesslighCronenverdt,whowas in turn beneath theauthority of my son Damon.Your claim is valid, LordKrayliss. When she arrives,Sashandra Lenayin shallspeakforyou.”“My king is wise,” said

Krayliss,withaslight,almostmocking bow of the head.“May my king sit upon thethrone formany,many years

tocome.”

Jaryd Nyvar entered hisfather'sguestchambersontheuppermost floorof theBaen-Tar palace and found all thelords of Tyree waiting forhim. Lord Redyk, of vastgirth and white whiskers,standing by the blazingfireplace with a cup of winein hand, as usual. Lord

Paramys,slim-shoulderedandpoker-straight,his longblackbeard almost reaching hisnavel. Lord Arastyn, towhose son Jaryd's youngersisterGalyndrywasduetobewed within the year—ahandsomemanwithabigjawandheavyfeatures,yetclevereyes. Jaryd's gaze settledupon Lord Tymeth Pelyn, awide, bald man with threechinsandill-fittingrobesthatstruggled yet failed to hide

his dimensions. LieutenantReynan Pelyn had been hisbrother. Lord Tymeth's eyesfixed upon the heir of Tyreeas he walked across theflagstone floor, unblinkingandunreadable.Therewerefifteen lords in

all, Jaryd counted, out oftwenty-three in all Tyree…but some were moreimportant than others, andpossibly not all had travelledto Baen-Tar for Rathynal. It

wasdisconcertingtohaveleftBaen-Tar in normality, withhisfamilyfaraway,andthento return three weeks laterand find all these grandfigures of Tyree nobilitygatheredandwaitingforhim.Jaryd's father sat on a chairbefore his bed, attired in acloak of Tyree velvet green.His thin facewas drawn andsweat beaded upon his pallidforehead. White hair hunglimp around his face and

therewasacupinhislistlesshand.Hiseyesbarelyseemedtoregisterhisson'sapproach.“Father,” said Jaryd, and

bent to embrace him, thenkissedhimonbothcheeks.Itwasshockingtorecallthathisfather had only forty-threesummers; Jaryd had seensixty-year-olds with greatervigour. The air was overlywarm and smelled sweet,almost sickly. “Yousummonedme.”

“My son,” said the GreatLord of Nyvar, his voicehoarse. “You return withLordKraylissincustody.”“You sound displeased,”

Jaryd observed. Wasn't thatjust like his father, todisparage every achievementwith which he was evenremotely involved? He hadledtheFalconGuard,Tyree'sfinestcompany, intobattle torestore the king's peace andhis father remained

unimpressed.“Youneedn'thavebrought

all of him back,” said LordRedyk,strokinghiswhiskers.“Justhishead,lad.”“It wasn't my decision,”

Jaryd said shortly. “PrinceDamonwasincommand.”“Oh aye,” said Lord

Paramys, his blue eyes cold.“And Kessligh Cronenverdtwas only along to pickflowers from the roadside.WhereisthegreatNasi-Keth,

anyhow?”“With his uma inBaerlyn,

I believe,” said Jaryd. Hehooked a hand into his beltnear the sword pommel, hisweather-stained cloak tossedback from one shoulder. Itmade him look good and heknewit.“Prince Koenyg erred in

sendingPrinceDamon,”LordRedyk growled in distaste.“He should have gonehimself. Prince Damon lacks

steel, no wonder he did notstanduptoCronenverdt.Nowthingsareworse.”“We rode to restore the

king's peace,” Jaryd repliedwith a frown. “Peace wasachieved, at a minimal cost,andnowGreatLordKraylissshall face the king's justice.How do you accuse PrinceDamonofanyfault?”Lord Redyk's expression

became faintly incredulous.“Any fault? Are you mad,

boy? At this Rathynal, wepush for power. For a fullhundred years since theLiberationwehavewaitedforthe king to grant us thepowers that King Sorospromised our forefathers, buthe has never seen sufficientreason to do so. Now, theking needs us for hislowlands war. He will grantuswhatwewant, or else hisconquering army shall becomprised of Royal Guards

andkitchenhands.“The great lords must

presentthekingwithaunitedface at this Rathynal todemandnoblerights…andyetyou bring Lord Krayliss, thevery face of disunity, backinto our midst? Are youmad?”That was twice that

rhetorical question had beenasked. Jaryd bristled. “Andthat'syouronlyconcernaboutLord Krayliss?” he asked

coldly. “What about theGoeren-yai?YouwanttokillthelastremainingGoeren-yaigreat lord, from the onlyprovinceinLenayinwithoutaruling Verenthane nobility,and you're notworried aboutthe anger it may cause theruralfolk?”“Pah!” LordRedykwaved

a dismissive hand. “Thepagans nearly came to blowsjust pitching their tentsoutside the Baen-Tar walls,

arguing over the best campsites. They're the last of ourconcerns—half of themwanttokillLordKraylissasmuchaswedo.“They won't mind him

dead,but theywillmindhimifheshamesthem!Youknowwhat the pagans are like,alwaysfallingovereachotherto make grand gestures ofheroism, waving their cocksfor all to see. Krayliss willdefyusinourdemandstothe

king, youwatch.He'll refusetopartakeinthelowlandswarand he'll shame the otherpagans into doing thesame…”“I disagree,” said Lord

Arastyn,mildly, fromJaryd'sother side. Jaryd suspectedthat Arastyn, unlike Redyk,was still on his first cup ofwine. In his other hand, heheld an ornatewarhorn—oneof the chambers’ decorativeartefacts. He had been

considering it, offhandedly,while theothers talked. “Thepaganswantwar.PerhapstheTaneryn do not, nor theeasterners,fortheserrinhavelong travelled to those partsand are admired there. Butthe west and the south havehadlesscontactandseelittleof Cherrovan incursions inthe north. These are warlikepeople, yet for a centurythere's been little but peace,save theusual, stupidhonour

squabbles between villages.Left alone, Goeren-yai willfight themselves. Those folkin the south andwestwant aglorious war to relive thetales of their ancestors. Andto them, Lord Krayliss is asmuch a foreigner as theserrin.”Jaryd knew that his father

thought highly of LordArastyn. It was one reasonwhy he'd promised Galyndryto his son. His family had

been loyal, too.Thatwas theotherreason.“The south and the west,

perhaps!” Lord Redykretorted.“ButTyreeisneithersouthnorwest,LordArastyn!Hellfire and floods take thesouthandwest,theoneplacewhereKrayliss does have aninfluence is right under ourbloody noses! And inValhanan, where that bloodyNasi-Keth and hiswild bitchhold sway, and in Taneryn

with Lord Krayliss himself!AndItellyou,insomeplacesthey may hate Kraylissenough to want to kill him,but if he stands up against alowlands war, then none ofthemwillsuffertobeseenasalapdogtoVerenthanelords.I know these people, I tellyou, and that's how theythink!”“If only our good friend

Great Lord Kumaryn wouldhave had the balls to move

against Cronenverdt and hisbitch earlier,” Lord Paramysmuttered. “If she joins withLordKrayliss,thenthere'llbetrouble.Didyouhearhimcallher the Synnich? What thehellsisaSynnich,anyhow?”Jaryd listened to them

argue, but his thoughts werewandering.Hethoughtofthegirl,withhershorthair,livelyeyes and, it could not bedenied, firm buttocks. Asprettyashersisters,whenone

learned to disregard theunwomanlypresentation.Andcrazy as a feveredmule.Butthen,whoamongstthesemenpresent,whocalledhernamesandwished for her downfall,couldmatchherwithaswordoronahorse?Jaryd Nyvar did not know

much about a lot of things,but he knew honour. Hisfather thought him asimpleton, and had oftenwondered aloud what he'd

donetosodispleasethegodsthat they would give him adunce for an heir. Jaryd hadnever excelled in studies.Written words still troubledhim, and numbers moreso.AnheirtotheGreatLordshipof Tyree would need suchskills, he was often told. Hewas clever with a sword, agenius on a horse, and hadsurprised even himself withhisgiftsasanartist.Thelatterskill he'd been too

embarrassed to practise, lesttheothernobleboys laughatsuchgirlishpursuits…buthistutors had noticed. He wasobviously intelligent, theysaid. He was just lazy. Hewas not applying himselfhardenough.Hisheadwassofullofhorses,swordworkandprettygirlsthathehadlostallsenseofpriorities.He'd become so tired of

hearingthoseaccusationsthathe'ddecidedhemightaswell

make them true.At least thatwayhe'dhavealittlefun.He'd discovered soon

enough that the commonfolkdidn't care whether he couldreciteTorovanpoetsormakesense of the taxman's books.To them, he was a hero,somethinghe'denjoyedvastlymore than being a dunce.Nobleboysweremorewary,awareofhisfather'sconcerns,which were therefore alsotheir fathers’ concerns.Some

ofthemhadteasedhimabouthislackofscholarlyskill,forwhich Jaryd had mercilesslytormented them in thepracticeyardoronthelagandfield. They hadn't liked that,but Jaryd hadn't cared. Hewas heir to the GreatLordship of Tyree and couldbestthematallthethingsthatshould truly matter of ayoungLenayman.Whatweretheygoingtodoaboutit?“Mybrother is dead,” said

Lord Tymeth,which stoppedallconversation immediately.“I wish to know how ithappened.”Jaryd turned to face him.

Pelynwereapowerfulfamilywith a large holding inwestern Tyree and access tolands that could become alarge source of revenueshouldthelordsgettheirwishand force the king to allowthemtotaxsuchlands.Oddly,Jarydfoundhimself

recalling the girl's scoldingaboutlandsandtaxes.AndofthedeathofLordAynsfarofNeysh, in the south, after hehad tried to impose suchtaxation without the king'sleave.Were they all fools tobestandinghereinBaen-Tar,withnotaGoeren-yaiinsightsave the serving maids, andpretendthat theyhadnothingto fear from the followers oftheancientways?The cold accusation in

LordTymeth's eyes added toJaryd's discomfort. This wasall wrong. He'd thought thegirl a fraud, but in truth, shewas a formidable warrior.He'dthoughthisfather'sgoalsjust and fair, yet he'd seennowhowfiercelytheGoeren-yai loved their freedom andhe doubted they'd just liebackandacceptanewsetoflocal, tax-raising rulers anymore than they'd toleratedLord Aynsfar. He'd always

thought his noble peersbasically honourable, with afew notable exceptions…buthe'd seen Lieutenant ReynanPelyn attempting to put abladeinthegirl'sback,whenhonour should havecompelledhim to rush toherdefence, whatever theirdifferences.Lord Tymeth stared, yet

Jaryd could not feel anyshameatwhathe'ddone.Hewas not a brilliant man,

perhaps, but he washonourable. Honourablebehaviour, with the stanch,blade and lagand hook, hadbrought him the only truehappiness he'd ever known.His honour was somethingrightandsomethingpure,andsomethinghis,thatnoteasingfrom his peers or contemptfrom his elders could everdestroy.“Ikilledyourbrother,Lord

Tymeth,” he said, with as

muchfirmdisdainashecouldmuster. “Sashandra Lenayinwon a duel against FarysVaran of Hadryn, one of thenorth's best swordsmen. TheHadrynproveddishonourableand attacked her following afair victory. I moved todefend the victor, with therestoftheFalconGuard,andin the ensuing confusion, Isaw Lieutenant Reynanattempt to shove his bladeinto Sashandra Lenayin's

spine, with clear intent.Thankfully, I was there tosaveTyreefromthisblightonitshonour.”Therewasnosound in the

palaceguestchambersbutthecrackling of the fire. Theyhadalreadyheard,Jarydsaw.Some men stared in open

hostility. Others looked ateach other, as if wonderingwhatnowmighthappen.LordRedyk wore a dark frown.Lord Arastyn, a serious

contemplation. Great LordAystin Nyvar wore nodiscernible expression at all.He had barely reacted. Hejust sat in his chair, lookingpaleandill.Jaryd felt a great surge of

frustration that, once again,he should be blamed forsomething that was mostcertainly not his fault.“Which one of you orderedit?” he demanded, scanningthe lords of Tyree with his

eyes. “Which one of youordered something sodishonourable? I canunderstand a man decidingthatTyreewouldbebetteroffwithSashandraLenayindead,but to do so by such amethod?Ishouldkillthemanwho ordered the deed for hedeserves death farmore thanevenLieutenantReynan.”His father cleared his

throat. “That would be me,”he said. Jaryd stared, his

breath caught in his throat.Hisfather lookedupandmethisgazeproperlyfor thefirsttime. A dry, humourlesssmiletuggedatthin,palelips.“It's no surprise I shoulddeservedeath.Thegodsgiveallmenwhattheydeserve.”“Boy always did have

more wind than wits,” LordParamys muttered. No oneleapttoJaryd'sdefence.“Why?” Jaryd asked, in

bafflement.

“Tyreewouldbebetteroffwith her dead,” his fatherrasped, “you said it yourself.A man might decide that. Amandid.Manymen.Anyonewhomight unite theGoeren-yai is a threat. The momentfor Lenayin's nobility hascome. We can afford nodivision and no obstacles.Krayliss is one obstacle.Kessligh Cronenverdt is lessso, for he was always moreNasi-Keth than Goeren-yai,

but his bitch is not. A royalGoeren-yai was always thedream of many. Best that itdoesnothappen.”“You never told me!”

Jaryd bristled. “You nevertrusted me with your plans!Why?”“Why?”His father snorted

a laugh, as equallyhumourless as the smile.“Lookat you.You think thispiteous whining surprisesme?Ididnottellyoubecause

I know my son. I know mysonbetterthanIwishto.”“My honour displeases

you?”“Honour is the last refuge

ofa fool!”his father snarled.“Honour is the excuse fortraitors to betray and forcowards to takeheel!This ishonour!”Hejabbedonebonyforefinger at the mensurrounding. “Your family!Yourclass!Yourfaith!Thesethingsmake you honourable,

no more! If you do notunderstand that, then yourhonourisnomorethanashesin yourmouth, and blood onyourhands.”“I will challenge, my

Lord,” Lord Tymeth saidcoldly. “I have no wish to,butmybrotherhasbeenslain.Familyhonour,myLord.”“Indeed,” said Great Lord

AystinNyvar, coldly. “But achallenge can be averted. Ihave had word from our

friend the Great LordKumaryn of Valhanan. Hehas heardSashandraLenayinis responsible for this death,notmy son. I seenoneed todisabusehimofthenotion.”“It makes no difference,”

LordTymethreplied.“Iknowthetruth,andthetruthcannotbe…”“It makes all the

difference!” Lord Aystinsnapped. “Have you heardnothing that has been said?

We must present a unitedfronttotheking!Honouristobe found in advancing ourcause, not squabblingamongstourselveslike…”“I shall not allow my

brother's murderer to escapejustice!” Lord Tymethretorted, his jowls reddeningwithrage.“If it's justice you want,

Tymeth,” Lord Arastyn saidcalmly,“thenyou'dbestkeepyour mouth shut. Master

Jaryd was within the king'sjustice, your brother wasnot.”LordTymethstaredathim,

toofurioustospeak.“Who's going to challenge

me?” Jaryd said angrily.“You, Lord Tymeth? You'realmost too fat to walk, letalone fight.Whatwould youdo,sitonme?”“I challenge on behalf of

my nephew Pyter!” Tymethyelled. “He's equal a

swordsman to you and onlytooeagertoseeyourheadona pike, I assure you, MasterJaryd!”“Enough!” Great Lord

Aystin yelled, strugglingfrom his seat. “Enough withthis…”andhebrokeintoafitofcoughing.Mencametohissides, holding his arms tokeep him from falling. Jarydwatchedascoughsrackedhisfather'sfrailbody.Hedidnotfeel much emotion beside

anger. The coughing passed,leaving Great Lord Aystinlimp in his chair like anempty shell. “There shall beno challenge,” he rasped,weakly. “Sashandra Lenayinshallbearthisaccusation.Myson shall vouch for the truthofit.”He looked up, his sunken

eyeswateryandpale.“You want me to lie?”

Jarydaskedincredulously.His father wiped his lips

with abonyhand. “Bright asabonfire,thislad.”“The Falcon Guard were

theretoo!Youcan'tgetallofthem to lie! Soldiers spreadgossip worse thanhousewives!”“Boy's got a point,” said

LordArastyn.Great Lord Aystin waved

his hand. “Gossip, there'salways gossip. Gossip alsosays that Prince Krystoffneverdied,thatheturnedinto

agreatgreywolfandcanstillbe heard near the Hadrynborder,howlingat themoon.It'swhatwe say thatmatters;the king can't act on gossip.Sashandra Lenayin killedReynanPelyn.Didn'tshe,myson?”

UPON THE LATE AFTERNOON

RIDEouttoSpearman'sRidge,a sharpwind began from thenorthandcloudformed,as ifout of nowhere, rolling in adark,swirlingmassabovethehills. Riding homeward at amoderate gallop, Sashafancied the air smelled of

rain, cold andgusting, as thetrees shifted and groaneduneasilyinthethunderofherpassing.Returning home, she

unsaddled and washed downthe colt, arranging feed andchecking all over. She thensaddledafilly,andwasridingit past the house in thedarkening,blusteryafternoon,when she saw Kesslighleaning upon the fence aboutthe vegetable patch. She

steered past the vertyn treetowardhim.“Where is Aiden?” she

asked.“Walking.His legsneeded

stretching.”“IfI'mtomakeRathynal,I

must leave tomorrow,”Sashasaid shortly. “You'll beleavingtoo?”Kessligh said nothing. He

looked at her, with wryconsideration. Then…“Bequick with the ride, we've

some exercises beforesundown and it's about topour.”“Sheneedsagoodgallop,”

Sashasaiddarkly,pattingthefilly'sneckastheyounghorsefretted and tossed, smellingthe rain in the air. “Are youleavingforPetrodor?”“Quick, I say,” Kessligh

said,with a hard edge to hiseye. “You're underdoneyourself.”Sasha glared. “Fine,” she

snapped,andkickedwithherheels. The filly shot offacross the lowerslopewithastartled snort, straight for thepathtotheroad.Therainbeganevenasshe

reached the foot ofSpearman's Ridge, lightspecksofmoisture thatstunginhereyesassheturnedbackfor home. The filly'scondition seemed good andsosheheldtoafastgallopforalongstretchupthewinding

incline she had come. Therain grew heavier, stingingher face, and she held acareful line through the fastcorners, knowingwellwherethe road could becometreacherous for the unwary.Soon she was partlydrenched, and rivulets ofwater ran across the road inlittlestreams.The road remained rough

where Kumaryn's force hadridden, hundreds of hooves

churning the surface. Theyhad camped last night uponthe fields above Baerlyn andthen departed the followingmorning.LordKumaryn, shesuspected, would headstraight for Baen-Tar—alreadytheotherlordswouldhave gathered for feasting,games and celebrationsbefore the serious businessbegan. She had little interestin arriving so early herself.Some more time with Sofy

would be nice. The extendedcompany of so many noblesandlordswouldnotbe.Predictably, the rain

stopped. Sasha wasn't fooled—approaching northerlyweather in Lenayin wasalways as such, first someshowers, then a break, andthena torrentialdownpour tosendeventhesnailsscurryingforcover.She returned the second

horsewithdueattentiontoits

condition, then descendedfrom the stables to findKessligh waiting with a pairof stanches, his own bandapadding already strapped tohistorsoandthighs.“Highdefence,”hetoldher

asshestrappedonthebanda.There was an unusualurgency to hismanner and agrimness beyond even hisusual, hard discipline. “Youjarred your arm defendingfrom your horse at Perys—

that's partly balance andpartlyupperbodystrength.Agirlneedstoworkonitextrahard.”Sasha shook her head

impatiently as she tightenedthe straps. “It was badbalance,Iwasn'tset…”“Sasha,” Kessligh said

firmly, “strength is thefoundation.Hathaal isnotallof svaalverd, even thegreatestserrinfemalefighterscould not escape

strength…elsa'as hathaal,strength within form. Lenaymen waste time buildingpower for power's sake…asvaalverd fighter must buildstrengthandflexibilityas thedemarathalas'anhathaal.”Sasha fed the torso straps

aboutherback.“I'masstrongas I need to be for what Ineed…”“Speak Saalsi,” Kessligh

instructed. “You're trippingyourtonguealready.”

Sasha took a deep breath,trying to order her thoughts.“I have sufficient poweracross the dimensions,” shesaid…or thought that shesaid.SomanywordsinSaalsihad multiple translationsdepending on context. “Icannot master all thingssimultaneously…I need tofocusmytrainingor…”“Focus is manifold,”

Kessligh replied, in farmorefluent and commanding

Saalsi. “You separate theinseparable.Allisone.Ihaveonly ever taught you onething. Draw it into yourcentre. Find the symmetry.You'll find that each newthingIteachisnottrulynew,only a variation of that onething which you alreadyknow.”Sasha frowned as she

finished her straps. Gave ayankofhardleatheruponthecold, wet shirt beneath.

Confusion aside, Saalsidescribed the svaalverd farbetter than Lenay evercould…or Torovan, for thatmatter.Aword could be onething, or it could be another,with a subtle shift ofcontextual grammar…just asa svaalverd stroke could bemany things, either offensiveor defensive, depending ontheslightestslideofafoot,ortheangleofawristtothehiltand blade. Saalsi forced her

to think, to consider everyword.Sometimesshethoughtthat was also Kessligh'sintention.Theybeganwithaseriesof

high offensive combinations,Kessligh attacking with rarespeed and fury. Sashadefended each with a rapidretreat and flashing stanch,occasionally feinting ormisdirecting toa sidestep forthe offensive counter…yetrarely, today, did her

counterattacks find success.Always Kessligh's strokesfound the limits of her higharm extension, straining hershoulders as her armsstruggled to hold their formabove her head. Once, shesimply lost the grip with ahard impact, the stanchsnapping back to clip herskull as she ducked.Anotherblow caught her a glancingstrike on the forearm as shehissedinpainandclutchedat

the bruise. The next time anattackcamefromthatquarter,she was ready with a hardslash and counter…yetKessligh'sownreversecaughther hard across the middlewith a lightning thud! uponthe banda that drove breathfromherlungs.“You overcompensate,” he

toldher inhard, calmSaalsi.Windwhippedtheuntidyhairabouthisbrow,aswildastheruggedlinesofhisface.“You

know that's your weakness.You overcompensate andleave your opposing quarterunguarded.Agoodfighterora lucky fightermay find thatopeningandsplityou. Ifyouwere less lazy on the armstrength,you'dbebetter.”Sasha breathed hard,

regaining her composure asshe leaned upon her stanch.“IfIbuildtoomuchshoulderstrength,” she said throughgritted teeth, “I get stiff.

Stiffness is the surestway tolimitmyextension…”“Bhareth'tei, not

bhareth'as,” Kessligh said.“You're implying thetheoretical, this is practical.”Sasha rolled her eyes inexasperation. “Combat is theplace where the unlikelybecomes probable,” hecontinued.“Youdonot thinkyour weakness great, yet Iexploit it even now. Fewsoldiers ever see the stroke

thatkillsthem.Oncemore.”The resulting session gave

her a whole new set ofbruises and the very nastysuspicion that Kessligh hadbeengoingeasyonher,evenduring her better boutsagainst him in the past.Certainly he'd warned her oftheneed to improveherhighextensionforalongtime,butshe could not recall himhaving exploited it soruthlessly before. And she'd

thought she'd beenapproaching his standard. Itwas time, it seemed, to thinkagain. Like on so manythings,oflate.Finally her late swing

barely intercepted a slashingcutthatcollectedherarmandcracked the left side of herhead. She stumbled to oneknee, clutching a hand overherear,asherheadranglikethe inside of a great templebell. Kessligh, crouching

opposite,heldhershouldertobesureofherbalance.Whenshedidnotfall,hestaredintoher eyes, drawing herattention.“Sasha. Sasha, are you

well? Focus on me.” Shetried, though it hurt. Shebrought the hand away fromherearandlookedatit.Therewas blood on her fingers,though not much. A smallcut. Kessligh's perfunctoryglance proved as much.

“Slowandsloppy,that'swhathappenswhenyourshouldersget tired so quickly. Watchmyfingertip.”She focused on it, as he

moved it closer, then furtherback, then side to side. Herbruise throbbed ina familiar,straightlinewherethestanchhadstruck.Highdefencewasdifficult to practise withouthelms. Sometimes, they'dused them…but svaalverdfighters rarely wore such

restrictive armour in combat.Mostly,theywerecarefulandkneweachother'scapabilitieswell enough to avoid injury.Mostly.“Stand up.” She did, and

found her balancewas good.Infact,therewaslittle,ifany,dizziness. It just hurt.Kessligh saw as much,grimly. “You always had athick skull,” he said. “Nowrun.Totheridgeandback.”Sasha glared at him. “In a

moment.”“In combat, there are no

momentstochoose.Now.”Sasha seriously considered

hittinghim.Itwasn't thefirsttime. Then, as now, sherefrained…if for no otherreason than she was highlyunlikely to connect. And fistfighting was one thing shecouldneveraffordtodowithbigger, stronger men.Kessligh's expression wasutterlyunsympathetic.

“Fine,”shesnarled,turningaway to unstrap her banda.Oncedone,sheflungitawayand set off running gingerlyacross the slope as the windhowled across the open, wetgrass, and the horses snortedand galloped nervouslywithintheenclosure.Therainbeganbeforeshe'd

evenreachedthesteepestpartof the ridge path. Treesshrieked in protest as thewindroaredandwater fell in

great, enveloping sheets thatquickly drenched what littleof her clothing was notalreadywet.Sashagrittedherteeth and slogged slowly upthe steepening path, feetquickly soaking within herboots, avoiding the slipperyrocks and mud. Her headached with each strugglingstep, her vision blurred withpouringwater,andshecursedKessligh with every gaspingbreath.

The rock atop the ridgewas shining wet beneathblasting, sideways sheets ofrain.Sashapausedamomentupon the edge of the hilltopclearing,gaspingforair…andcould not help but marvel atthe raw power of the storm,the trees bending andthrashinglikewildthings,thehowlingroarofrainandwindthatobliteratedallviewofthesurrounding hills. There wasa loud crack as a branch

broke. Then a sudden boomand rumble of thunder thatmade her jump and sent anewchillthroughhersoaked,coldlimbs…Shemadea fast spirit sign

to her forehead and turnedback the way she'd come.Despite theblinding rainandslippery path, she knew thistrailwell.Shedescendedfast,taking her weight upon eachpounding, downward impactwith practised skill. A

brilliant blue flash lit up allthe blackened sky, followedby a booming, bass rumblethat nearly stood her hair onend. She increased her paceas thepathdroppedyetmoresteeply, hurdling oneintervening outcrop with adownwardrush…Herankletwistedinaflash

ofpain,andsuddenlyshewasfalling, crashing and rollingdownslope,atangleofslidingearth and mud, her leg hit a

tree,spinningheraboutasthegroundfell fromunderher…andshecrashedpainfullyintoaharsh tangleofbushes.Fora moment, she just breathedand hoped she hadn't hurtanything worse than herankle. Unfolding herself onelimb at a time from thebushes,itdidn'tseemso.Cold, muddy, bruised,

drenched and with athrobbinghead, shewasnowin quite possibly the foulest

mood she could recall sinceher worst childhood tempersin Baen-Tar. Someachievement. Thunderboomed and rumbled innearby displeasure. Shehauledherselfgingerlytoherfeet andhissed inpainat theweightonherrightankle.Sonow she could barely walk.Justwonderful.Limpingdowntheslippery

path took an age. Movingslowly, and trusting one foot

withallherweight,shehadtosearch for secure footing aswater poured down the pathand any smooth surfacebecame treacherous. Twice,she slipped again, oncesliding several strides on herbackside, accumulating yetmore bruises. Finally, at thebottom of the steepest slope,the rain and wind easedsomewhat…but shewas nowshiveringwithcold.Worse, her excellently

craftedboothadceased to fitherrightfootsnuglyandnowevery step was agony. Sashasat down to remove it andfound the ankle swollen andugly. Limping onward, herbare foot quickly chilled inthemudandwater.Thehillsidewasdarkening

fast as she emerged from theridgetop treeline onto thevast, grassy shoulder, theblackened sky quickly losingwhatever daylight it had

retained.Hereonthesouthernslope, the northerly windmerely gusted and swirled.The house itself remaineddistant yet, a small shape inthe gathering gloom beneaththespideryvertyntree.Thereseemed to be a light at therear and one at the stables.Kessligh, she hoped, hadtakeninthehorses.Then there came the

unmistakable shape of agalloping horse and rider

along the lower fence. Itrounded the corner post andcame straight for her. Sasharecognised the horse—Terjellyn, with his familiar,elegantgait.Shedidnotstoplimping.Kessligh reined Terjellyn

to a halt before her. “Bad?”heaskedherfromthatheight,eyeingher limpand thebootin her hand. Sasha keptmoving, ignoring both horseand rider. Kessligh held a

handdowntoher.“Comeon,get up.” And stared in blankdisbelief as Sasha continuedlimping straight past him,eyes fixed on the distanthouse with grimdetermination.Foramoment,Kesslighsat

inhissaddleandwatchedher.Sasha thought he mightsimply ride back and leaveher to finish the journeyalone. She didn't care.Strangely, at that moment,

she didn't care aboutanything. Movement behindher, then, asTerjellyn trottedeasilytoherside.“Sasha, you'll make the

ankleworse.”Acalm,matter-of-fact statement. No alarm.No concern. Sasha felt asparkoffury.Shelimpedon,relishing the pain each cold,shivering step caused. “Withtreatment, it might onlytrouble you for a few days.Butifyoukeepwalkingonit,

that could be longer. If youneed to fight, you won't beableto.”Always the practical

concern. Always worriedabout her “role” as his uma.Alwaysinterestedinwhatshecoulddoforhim,noconcernfor what she wanted herself.Shekeptlimping.She'dreachthe house herself if it werecauseforamputation.“Sasha, don't be a damn

fool.” With tired irritation,

now.Noanger.Hedidn'tcareenough tobe angry.Shewasjustanotherstrategicexerciseto him. A project for hisbeloved Nasi-Keth. “Sasha?I'm warning you, get up onthe damn horse. I don't havetime for this childishnonsense.”She limped onward.

Behind, there came a lightthudasKessligh leapedfromthe saddle. Footstepsapproached, then a hand

grasped her shoulder, hard,pulling her about withpreciouslittleconcernfortheankle. Pain stabbed, andSasha swung at him in blindfury…and struck a glancingblow to his head as heducked, grabbing that arm.Shetriedtoripherarmclear,lashing with her left fist,whichcaughthimsquarelyinthemouth.Hespunback,stillgrabbing her arm, twisting itas she was yanked off her

feet, scrambling to her kneesthen as Kessligh wrenchedthatarmbehindher,tryingtoimmobilise the other armnow.Sasha'slefthandhadfound

the knife in her belt beforeshe could think, pulling itfree…but Kesslighabandoned her right arm totaketheleftinstead.Shetriedto slash clear, but a suddentwist and pressure on herelbow threw her face down

on the grass and rolling ontoher back, the left arm nowpainfully beneath her andKessligh's own knife at herchest in lightning, dangerousreflex. Sasha stoppedstruggling,heruman'skneeinher stomach, knife bladehovering with a clear,obvious line to her throat.Therewasbloodonhislowerlip, which was cut andappearing to swell. His eyeswere dark and dangerous in

thecold,windsweptgloom.“Go on and do it!” Sasha

yelledathisface.“Goonandwastethelasttwelveyearsofyour life! Serve you bloodywellright,thatwould!”Kessligh blinked at her,

shock rapidly replacingdeadly instinct.He threw theknife away, as if suddenlydiscovering it were apoisonous snake. Took adeep, gasping breath, andanother. It was a look Sasha

had never seen before. Fear.The sight of it gave her asurge of vicious satisfaction.Kessligh released her andmovedback,stillkneeling.“Some uman you turned

out to be!” Sasha snarled athim, retrieving her arm frombehind and struggling to aseat.Stilltheknifewasinherhand. “The first one getskilled when you're notlooking and then you nearlydothesecondyourself!”

Angerblazed inKessligh'seyes. “Sasha…you stupid,contemptible idiot!” He wasreally angry now. She likedthismuchbetter.“Neverdrawa blade on me! I've warnedyou many times, neversurprise me like that! I haveno safe reflexes, Sasha!They're all dangerous!All ofthem!”“You'renevertoblamefor

anything, are you?” Sasharetorted, far, far beyond any

semblance of self-control.“Godsdamn it, you're alwaysaccusingme of immaturity. Ihave twenty summers and Iknow I'mnotperfect!When'sit going to dawn on you,MasterSwordsman?”Kessligh stared at her,

incredulously. “What in theninehellsareyou…?”“You've never thought

about anyone but yourself inyourwholeblasted life, haveyou?Youdidn'trideoutfrom

Petrodor all those years agoto save the poor, sufferingLenaypeople—youdid it foryourself! Yourself and yourown stupid, blind convictionthatyourviewoftheworldisallpowerful!“You didn't save Lenayin

becauseitwastherightthingto do!Youwanted payment!And you took it! First youtookmybrother,thepersonIloved most in all the world,and then when it got him

killed,it'ssuddenlymyturn!”“Don't you ever suggest I

never cared for Krystoff!” Itwas as close asKesslighhadever come to genuinelyyelling at her. “I loved himlikeason!”“And why is it that you

never had your own realsons? Why not inflict thisdestiny upon your own fleshand blood? Why do it tosomeoneelse's?”“Because it's not theNasi-

Kethway!”He stared at her,kneeling on the lower slope,seeming torn between angerand consternation. Then heputbothhands tohishair,asif to tear out several greathandfuls. “Gods blast it,Sasha, what do you want? Igaveyouthelifeyouwanted,didn't I?Youweremiserablein Baen-Tar, you sworeanythingwouldbebetterthanthatlife!Denytomethatyoudon'tloveithere?”

“I never thought I was apawn in one of your damnpower games!” she yelled athim. “You never told me itwasallaset-up!”“I've tried to tell you so

many times,” Kesslighcontinued, with increasingforcefulness, “there's no easychoicesinlife!Yourfatherisking and he suffers for itdaily!Damonisaprince,yethe fears the weight of thatresponsibility! I chose the

Nasi-Keth,fortheyseemedtooffer the best chance ofescape from the manyhardships and terrors ofhumanlife.“And you…you had the

choice between a princess ofLenayin, or uma to a seniorNasi-Keth. You chose me.AndIput it toyou,myuma,that you have had preciouslittlecauseforcomplaintuntilnow.Damonhas suffered farworse than you—all your

siblingshave.Royaltyhas itsresponsibilitiesandhardships,but you…you were born forthis—running about in thewilds, rearing horses andlearning svaalverd. It's inyourblood;you'dchoosethislifewhetherIwasyourumanor not. Did you seriouslythink it would go on beingperfect forever? There'salways a trade, Sasha.Always. Not even you canescapeit.”

“You lied to me!” Sashayelled at him. It wasn't fairthat he should start makingsense, now of all times. Hecouldn't be right. Shewouldn't lethim.“Younevertoldmewhatitwasallabout!I didn't volunteer for yourblastedwar!”“You did,” said Kessligh.

Rain plastered hair to hisbrow. Blood trickled a slimrivulettothepointofhisjaw.Hiseyeswereasgrimandas

penetratingasSashahadeverseenthem.“Ifyouthinkhard,you'llevenrecalltheday.”Sasha stared at him.

Recalling, suddenly, the eyesofMaster Daran, fixed uponher with a similar, grimcontemplation. She'd beencurled on her bed in herBaen-Tar chambers. TheMaster himself had attendedher chambers, after she'dattacked the maid postedthere previously with a

knitting needle and drawnblood. Stray shards of glasshad crunched beneath hisfoot, where the remnants ofthefittingmirrorhadescapedthe maids’ brooms. Severalother items of her chambers’furnishings had disappearedafter she'd smashed them, ortried to. She'd beenrestrained, and slapped, andforcefedherdinneruntilmostofithadendedonherface,inherhairoruphernose.

Eventuallyallthefury,andall the urge to break and tosmashandtoventherdespairupon any person or objectwithin reach, had dissipated,and left her drained, weakand vacant. Krystoff wasdead, and her life was over.And so she had sat on herbed,watchedover byMasterDaran, the senior courtofficial in whose meticuloushands had rested theeducation and deportment of

all the royal siblings.MasterDaran had brought in hisnotes and papers, and hadworked at her desk with ascribble of ink and quill,positioned precisely betweenbed and door. Occasionallyhe had glanced her way, tofind she had not moved.Occasionally he had tried totalk, and to reason, to noresult.Then, Kessligh had

entered. Sasha recalled her

mild surprise. She could notrecall Kessligh ever havingentered her chambers before.He was a godlike figure ofthe barracks and the traininghall,hedidnotbelonginsuchmundaneplacesaslittlegirls’bedrooms. He had askedMaster Daran to leave them.Then he'd taken the chairMasterDaranhadbeensittingon and carried it to herbedside, all resplendent inuniform purple and green,

with squeaking leather bootsandacloakthatwasalmostacape.He'd sat upon the edge of

thechairand leanedforward,with elbows on knees. Hisexpression had been verysombre and very subdued.Sasha remembered the washof relief that it had beenKesslighwho'dcomeandnotoneof theothers.Notoneofthe stupid jesters with theirsilly shoes and sillier hats,

with bells and whistles andstupid tricks to try and cheerher up. Not one of thematrons, with theircommanding, “motherly”presence, to which she wassomehow supposed torespond in some fit offeminine empathy. Andcertainly not big brotherKoenyg, who had neverparticularly liked Krystoff,and could certainly neverreplace him. She'd looked at

his rough, uncompromisingface, and had known that,unlike the others, he wouldalways take her seriously.Here was a man who wouldneverlietoher.Wouldneverbabyherandcoddleherwithsoft liesandhalf-truths.Herewasamantowhomherslim,remaining sanity could clingto.“I offered to take you as

my uma that day,” Kesslighsaid, above the hissing rain

anddistant,rumblingthunder.“I told you what that wouldmean. I said that you wouldbecome Nasi-Keth and thatyour future would belong tothem. And when you agreedtoohastily,Ileftyoutothinkabout it for seven days. Oneachday,Iexplainedittoyouagain.Itoldyou,Sasha.Andyou agreed. Had you stayedwhere you were, I think itquite likely you would havegivenuphopeanddied.”

“I didn't…” There weretears in her eyes. Suddenly,shewas back in her room inBaen-Tar and could feel theleaden, oppressive weight ofdarkstoneallabout.Thegriefand despair were as fresh asbefore in overwhelmingintensity. “I didn't think I'dhave to kill people! I didn'tthink so many people wouldhateme!”Kessligh leaned forward

intently, his expression

incredulous. “Sasha, youpicked that fight against theHadryn all by yourself! Iwarned you what wouldhappen!Nowyoudecideyoudon't like the taste of blood?What's the matter with you?What do you really want,Sasha?All the rest of this ismanure.Whatdoyouwant?”Sasha's face contorted in

grief. “Why are you leavingme?” she barely managed tosob, as composure left her

completely. “I can't do thisalone. I can't abandon theGoeren-yai. And now you'regoingtoleaveme,andIcan'tdothisonmyown…”Emotion struggled to find

purchase in Kessligh's eyes.He grabbed her and huggedhercloseasshesobbeduponhis shoulder in the pouringrain upon the sodden,darkeninghillside.“There's a war coming,

Sasha,” he murmured in her

ear as she clung to him,desperately. “The Nasi-Kethmust be strong, for only wecan find a middle waybetween two opposing sides.YettheNasi-KethinPetrodoraredividedandweak. Imustreturn to them. And one daysoon,youmustjoinmethere,forIcannotdowhatneedstobedonewithoutyou.“Andyet,whenItookyou

as my uma, I swore that Iwould give you the freedom

to walk your own path.” Hereleasedherandtookherfaceinbothhands, to stare firmlyinto her tear-blurred eyes.“Walkthepath,Sasha.GotoBaen-Tar. Reason with yourfather and brother. Save thatidiot Krayliss's neck, if youcan.“When the Nasi-Keth

spread out from the Bacoshhundreds of years ago, theythought to bring theirenlightenment to all human

lands, not by force but byreason. I knew that when Itook Krystoff as uma, and Iknew it when I took you.Don't be angry with me. IloveLenayin. I owemuch toLenayin. When I rode herefrom Petrodor as a youngman,IsworethatIwasdoingit not so that Lenayin couldserve the Nasi-Keth, but sothat the Nasi-Keth couldserveLenayin.“IhavetaughtyouasbestI

can, Sasha. You havesurpassedmywildesthopes.”Sasha could only stare,disbelief joining grief uponher face. “I have given somuch toLenayin, but now, Ifind I have no more left togive. But you do. Whateveryousetyourmindto,youcanachieve. It is your gift. Bevery careful what you setyour mind to, for not allachievements are great. Butknowalso thatyoumakeme

proudbeyondwords.”Sashaembracedhimagain,

and sobbed some more.Kesslighheldher.Theywerecold, and wet, and shiveringin the gathering darkness.Andyet, despite the fear andgrief, Sasha knew that shehad not been betrayed. That,forthemoment,wasenough.

They had been riding for

threedaysandDaryddidnotknow where they were. Thescout that the man Jurellynhad sent to guide them rodeahead, keeping to smallhorsetrails that sometimesseemed to vanish in theundergrowth. It was rainingnow, a steady, miserabledownpour, and in places themudsuckedatEssey'shooveslikealivething.Itwaslucky,Darydthought,thathealwaysrodeprepared,evenaboutthe

fields of Ymoth. Otherwise,hewouldn't havebrought hisand Rysha's cloaks, whichnowkepttheworstoftherainandchillsofftheirheads.ButMama always warned themofhowfasttheweathercouldchangeandheneverrodeoutwithout a cloak in thesaddlebag.Thoughts of his parents

made him more miserablestill.Hedidnotknowif theyor his brothers and sisters

were still alive. The wetsaddlewaschafinghisthighsandhisbackwassore,buthedared not complain. Behindhim, Rysha was no doubtsuffering even worse—shewasagoodenoughrider,butnotasgoodashim.Also,sheworeadress,whichhadtobepulled up for her to sitproperlyastride.Herlegshadbeen chilled, until the scouthadgivenher a sparepairofhis own pants to wear under

herdress.Sherodewiththemnow all bunched up, her feetlost in the long, trailing pantlegs as she clung to Daryd'sback.The scout's name was too

difficultforhimandRyshatopronounce,sotheyjustcalledhimthescout.Daryd thoughthemight be from Tyree, buthe wasn't certain. The scouthadledthemovertheAralyaRange, which had beenexhausting and treacherous.

Alwaysthescouthadseemednervous on that path andseveraltimeshadledthemoffthe trail to hide in the forestasridershadpassedgoingtheotherway.The scout seemedto have very good eyesightandhadriddenaheadofthema lot to make sure theyweren't surprised. Now thatthey were down on the flatonce more, he stayed closeandmadesuretheydidn'tgetlost on the narrow trails. Or

maybe theywere lost,Darydthought. The scout didn'tappear tobe lost, though.Healways seemed to knowwhichwaytogo.“Daryd, I'm hungry.”

Darydreachedintohispocketand pulled out a handful ofberries the scout had giventhem.HegavethemtoRysha.“Here, be careful. Don't

drop any.” She didn't. Theyhad better food, for propermeals, but these were good

forsnacks,andthescoutwasgoodatfindingthemgrowingwild. The forest here wasthick and, despite his wetclothes and aching muscles,Daryd thought it verybeautiful, even in the rain.The pine trees seemed to betallerhereandthespirits thatlived in such trees would begreat and majestic. Hewondered if the trees wouldkeepgettingtallerallthewaytoBaen-Tar.Maybethey'dbe

so tall in Baen-Tar, he'dbarely be able to see theirtops.The berries tasted funny,

but Rysha ate withoutcomplaint. Rysha had barelycomplained all trip, not evenwhentherainhadstartedandher legs had chilled. Darydhad been amazed, and stillwas. She used to complainabout everything. She'd sleptagainst his side on the hardground at camp and had

sometimes squirmed andwhimpered in her sleep.But,comethenextmorning,she'drisen bleary eyed, eatenbreakfastandeveninsistedonhelping Daryd to saddle andfeed Essey. It had beenenough to freeze all ofDaryd's own complaints onhis lips. If Rysha was notcomplaining,certainlyhewasnotallowedto.“Daryd,” she said after a

while,astherainwaseasing.

“Whyarewegoing toBaen-Tar?”“To meet King Torvaal,”

Daryd explained. “KingTorvaal can send armies tofighttheHadryn.”“But what about Lord

Krayliss? Auntie Sedy saysLord Krayliss is Lord ofTaneryn and that he's ourfriend.”“PapasaysLordKraylissis

just a big bag of wind,”Darydreplied.“LordKrayliss

says he's a relative of theUdalyn, but he doesn't doanything. Papa says he's notreallyinterestedinhelpingus,hejustsaysthatheis,sothatpeoplewilllikehim.”“But why doesn't he do

anything? If he was really arelative,he'dhelpus.”“Taneryn's a different

province, Rysha. They speakTaasti, there…and a fewotherthingsIcan'tremember.They worship the spirits

differently. Papa says theydon't really know verymuchabout the Udalyn. Theyhaven't really seen us for ahundredyears.AndTaneryn'snot very powerful, and notveryrich,notliketheHadryn.SoLordKraylissjustmakesalot of noise, but he couldn'treally help us if he wantedto.”“What language does the

kingspeak?”Ryshaasked,asDaryd ducked a low, wet

branch.“Lenay. Everyone around

themiddleofLenayinspeaksLenay,likethescout.”“Itsoundsfunny.”Daryd smiled. It felt good

to smile. He'd barely smiledin three days. “Probably wesoundfunnytothem,too.”“You sound funny,”Rysha

retorted. “I don't.” Then, “IsthekingaVerenthane?”“All the big nobles and

royals areVerenthanes,” said

Daryd. “Taneryn's the onlyprovincewherethey'renot.”“Idon'tlikeVerenthanes.”“How do you know that?”

Daryd challenged. “You'venevermetanyVerenthanes.”“The Hadryn are

Verenthanes,” Ryshaobjected. “They call us nastynames because we're notVerenthanes too, I heardAuntieSedysayso.”“TheHadryn don't count,”

Darydsaidfirmly.“Evenlots

of other Lenay Verenthanesdon't like the Hadryn.” Athought occurred to him. “Ithink the scout might be aVerenthane.”“Do you think?” Rysha

sounded unhappy at theprospect.“Well, I can't tell if he's

Goeren-yai. So he might beVerenthane.Whydon'twetryandaskhim?”“No, Daryd, dooon't,”

Rysha complained. Finally, a

real Rysha whine. Darydgrinned.“Papa says King Torvaal's

a good man,” said Daryd,changing the subject. “He'sdone nice things for theGoeren-yai before. I'm surehe'llhelpus,ifweaskhim.”They ate a lunch of bread

and dried meat by a smallstream that rushed andgurgled from the recent rain.Thebirdsweredifferenthere,Daryd noted. Little blue and

black bobtails flittered andchirpedaroundthestreamsidebushes. Yellow flower birdssnapped at insects above therushing water. Some small,plain brown birds with longbeakspeckedatthingsonthewater surface near thestreamside, where the flowwas not as fast. The onlybirds Daryd recognised werethe black and green woodducks that swam furtherdownstream, where a big,

rotting loghad formeda stillpoolbehindadam.The scout saw him

watching the birds and triedtonamethemforhim.Darydmanaged someof thenames,but others he couldn'tpronounce. The scout hadperhaps thirty summers,Daryd reckoned—not as oldasJurellynhadbeen.Hewasquite clean for a scout orwoodsman, too, with shorthairandwell-mendedclothes.

He washed every morningandaftermeals,andevenputsomefunny-smellingpasteonhis teeth after dinner. ThemoreDaryd thoughtabout it,themorehethoughtthescoutwas probably a Verenthane.He'd heard that Verenthanesliked to keep clean, and thisman had no rings, braids ortattooswhatsoever.Atmidafternoon, the scout

tookthemoffthenarrowtrailand into the forest. They

stopped behind someundergrowthwhere the scoutgestured for the children tostay with the horses and bequiet. He then disappeareddown a shallow hill. Darydstood guard while Ryshasupervised thehorsesas theygrazedonsomewildgrass.Itfeltdifferent,toputahandonhis knife hilt and pretend tobe a real warrior. He'd seenreal warriors fight now, andhe'd seen them die. He'd

always been frustrated bychildhood, but nowhe foundhimself longing for thatchildish innocence. Backthen, he could be a realwarrioranytimeheliked,justbyimagining.Now,nomatterhow hard he pretended, heremained just a little boy farfrom home, cold, lonely andfrightened.It was not long before the

scout came quickly back upthehill,butnowhehadsome

men with him. Thesecertainly were Goeren-yaimen, all five of them, withlonghair,earringsandtheleftsideoftheirfacescoveredbythespiritmask.TheystaredatDaryd and Rysha as theyapproached, like mencreepinguponsomerareandmagical animal. They spokeamongst each other, withwonder in their voices, andDaryd heard the word“Udalyn,”overandover.The

strange men made himanxious,butthescoutseemedtotrustthem.“Friend,” the scout said in

Edu—theoneEduwordhe'dbeen quick to learn. Pointingto the five Goeren-yai men.“Friend.”Daryd nodded, warily.

There must have been avillage nearby, he realised.Just out of sight beyond thetrees. The villagers had thelook of men who worked

hard, with worn clothes andhardenedhands.Twoofthemwereverybigandtheothers,although middle size, alllookedstrong,even theolderones.Allworeswordsattheirhipsandknivesintheirbelts.“Eyastan,” said one man,

extendingahand toDaryd,afriendly smile parting hisbushybeard. “Eyastan, YuanUdalyn.”A greeting, Daryd

reckoned. “Eyastan,” he

replied and clasped the otherman's forearm. The man'ssmilegrewtoagrin.Eachofthe men said hello in thatway.One of them seemed toaskfortheEduwordforhelloandrepeateditoverandoverdelightedly when Daryd toldhim.WithRyshatheydidnotexchangethewarriorclasp,ofcourse, but rather shook herhandgentlyandpattedheronthe head. Rysha stood closeto Daryd's side, anxious and

shy.The villagers gave them

good, fresh fruit and somedelicious fresh bread. Thechildren ate and the adultsbegan jabbering in theirstrange, foreign tongue, withmany gestures toward thechildren. After a while, onewent running back to thevillage.“Daryd, what are they

doing?”“Idon'tknow,”saidDaryd,

watching the men'sexpressions and gesturesintently.Everynowand thenheheardawordthatsoundedfamiliar,buthedidn'tknowifthat was because it was thesame word, or just acoincidence. “These areGoeren-yai men, they'll befriendly.”He realised that he didn't

even know what provincethey were in. Valhanan? OrwasitTyree?Oneofthetwo,

he decided. Lenay wasspoken here, but these menprobably spoke a nativetongue as well. He wishedagain that he could speakanother language. Everyoneelse inLenayinseemed tobeableto.Soonthemanwhohadrun

off came back with fivewomen. The women greetedthemwithasmuchwonderasthe men and considerablymore fuss.They all had long

hair, a mixture of braids,loose locks and some beadsand ribbons. Their dresseswere coarse weave, sewntogether with some light,tanned skins—without thedecorative embroidery andbeading he was accustomedto seeing on his mother andaunts.The women made a

particular fuss over Rysha,which Rysha seemed to findmuch less intimidating than

she'd found the men. Onewoman produced a pair ofchild's pants and Rysha wasushered away to the privacyof some bushes to pull themon.Anolderwoman remained

behind to lookatDarydwithabeadyeye,andtalkwiththemen. Her hair was long andgrey, with an important-looking topknot, and shewalkedwithadecoratedstaff.The men were very polite

withher.Darydreckonedshemightbeaspirittalker,asthestaff decorations heldelements of all the spiritlevels—feathersofbirdsfromthesky,rocksfromtheearth,smooth pebbles shaped bywater, and beads of polishedwood or nuts from trees.When she hobbled close topeer at him, Daryd bowedlow. And when hestraightened,everyonelookedpleased, so he knew it had

beentherightthingtodo.When Rysha returned,

wearing her new pants underher dress, a new argumentensued. Some of the womenseemed quite adamant aboutsomething. The men seemedmore doubtful. The spirittalker just watched andlistened.Finally, one of thewomen

turnedtoRyshaandsmiledinthat way adults did whentryingtoexplainsomethingto

children. Daryd feltimmediately suspicious.“Endrynet chyl,” she saidsweetly. And pointed backdown the slope, towhere thevillage was surely located.“Karamyttervyst'al.Selysh.”Thewomanmimedputting

her head down on somepillows, palms pressedtogether,handstoonecheek.“Daryd, what's she

saying?” Rysha soundednervous.

“Maybe she thinks weshould have a rest,” Darydsaid dubiously. But thewoman was only looking atRysha, notDaryd. “Wemustride,”Darydsaid loudly, andpointed on in the directionthey'dbeentravelling.“Baen-Tar. We must ride to Baen-Tar.KingTorvaal.”Theyseemedtounderstand

that, at least, for worriedlooks were exchanged. Thewoman tried again with a

longer sentence, yet nomorecomprehensible.Her entreatywas all the more gentle andheartfelt, and again, directedonlyatRysha.“I think she thinks we

should rest,” Rysha saiduncertainly. “I am verysleepy.”“We've no time, Rysha.”

Daryd's frustration mounted.“All the Udalyn will havegonebehindthewall,but thewall won't last forever if the

Hadryn attack properly! Iheard Papa say so.We havetogetthekingtosendhelp!”Thewomanseemedtotake

Rysha's uncertainty for agoodsignandtookherbythehand. “Endrynet chyl. Amathul lysh towayalesh tai.” ShepulledRysha gently forward,awayfromDaryd.“No,” said Daryd, his

alarm rising. And then herealised what she wassuggesting.“No!”heshouted,

ahandonthehiltofhisknife.“No, you let her go!You lethergorightnow!”Thewomansaidsomething

inalarm,apleafortheothersto reason with him, whilepullingRyshaonward.Ryshapulledback,frozenwithfear.Daryd pulled out his knifeand pointed it at thewoman,hishandshaking.“She's my sister!” he

shouted. “She belongs withme! You can't have her. Let

hergo!”There followed a lot of

shouting, with the womanprotesting, backed by severalother women. Finally thebushy-bearded manintervened, impatientlyremoving the woman's handfromRysha's.RysharanbacktoDarydandclutchedhisarminstead. The woman lookedupset, both hands to hermouth. The bushy-beardedman was saying something

forcefully to the woman, inwhich the word “Udalyn”featured prominently.Goeren-yai men seemed tohave a high opinion of theUdalyn.Thethreatapparentlyover, Daryd sheathed hisknife before anyone couldnotice how much his handwasshaking.“Daryd,what's going on?”

Rysha asked shakily, stillclutchinghisarm.“Don't be scared, Rysha. I

think she just thought itwouldbesaferforyoutostayhere in the village with her.Shewastryingtoprotectyou,I think. Mothers are likethat.”“She's not my mother!”

Rysha protested, upset. “I'vegotamother!”“Iknow,Rysha.”“I want to stay with you!

Daryd,don'tletthemtakemeaway!”“I won't, Rysha. Shush,

everything's all right.” Buteverything was not all right,becausethequaverinRysha'svoicewhenshesaidtheword“mother” caused his ownthroattotightenandhisliptotremble. He swallowed it,violently.The villagers brought yet

morefoodandsomefoddertogive the horses a break fromwild grass. Extra fodder waspacked into saddlebags andthe spirit talker made an

appeal to the local spirits…presumably to watch overthem, Daryd thought. ThewomanwhohadtriedtotakeRysha still looked upset.Daryd suddenly foundhimself wondering what hisownmotherwouldbefeeling.Her son and her little girlwould be missing. Perhapsshe'd fear they were dead,killed by the Hadryn.Suddenly, he thought heunderstood.

He walked to the womanandreachedforherhand.Shetook it. “My sister,” he saidhelplessly, pointing to Ryshaas she stood by Essey,waiting to mount. “I can'tleave my sister. She's all Ihave.” He pointed to hisheart. The woman's eyesfilledwithtearsandshebent,and kissed him on bothcheeks. That was when heknewforsurethattheUdalynwerenottheonlypeoplewho

loved their family. He couldonly hope that King Torvaalfeltthesame.

DAMON MADE HIS WAY

toward the lagand field.Downslope,thegreattentcityspread across the paddockslike a forest of pointy whitemushrooms on a greenhillside. Flags flew aboveeach provincial contingent,colourful banners against asummerbluesky.Theairwas

warm, the breeze welcome,andthehillsbeneaththewallsof Baen-Tar were alive withcolourandlife.Itwasawiderectangle of hillside, by nomeans an even surface, butthe slope was overall quitegentle.Tallerynpostsmarkedthe goals, one pair at eachend, with horses thunderingacross the intervening space,weaving and crossing inpursuit of the ball. Thescaffolding caught Damon's

eye—an amazing work ofwoodcraft, erected in just sixdays by Goeren-yaicraftsmen. He guessed itmight hold as many as sixhundred people on its rowedbenches.Colours draped across

different sectionsmarked outthe seats where eachprovince's nobles would sit.The royal box was central,draped in green and purple,andflankedbyseveralRoyal

Guardsmen. Serving maidsmade theirwayupanddownthestepswithplattersofwineand food, and more crowdsgathered about the firepitserected behind the scaffold,where kitchen staff servedsnacks and drinks, andprepared whole legs of lambandbeef for roasted lunch tocome.Apairof redflagsmarked

the entry point forcompetitors, where the

surrounding spectators keptclear. Damon recognisedJaryd amongst the gatheredhorsemen and cantered thatway. Tyreemen greeted him—perhaps half the Tyreeteam were from the FalconGuard, including SergeantGarys, a stout Goeren-yaiman whom he knew andrespected. The other half ofthe fourteen-men side wereTyreenobility.“Wonderful morning for a

contest,” Jaryd remarked asDamon dismountedalongside. Damon hadcontestedwiththeTyreeteamfor four days now and,somewhere along the line,“Your Highness” hadvanished from Jaryd'svocabulary.Damoncarednotat all. “We have Bannerydthismorning,halfofthemareheavy cavalry. We'll havesomebruisesthisevening.”A handler tendedDamon's

horse while another handedhimhisbundleofequipment.Damonstrappedonthemetalforearmguards,gazingacrossthe field at the game inprogress. “Fyden playsTaneryn,” he observed,recognising the colours.“What score?” There was ascoring platform up on thescaffold,buthecouldnotseeitfromthisangle.“Tanerynbyeighttofour,I

believe. It's a long match.”

Disparagingly. “Perhaps theyshouldplayhourglassrulesorelse we'll be here tilllunchtime.”Underroyalrulesthe game did not stop untiloneteamscoredtengoals.Jarydseemedgrimmer this

morning. He tightened hisforearm strap now, his helmunder one arm. Not quite astall as Damon in his ridingboots, but more broadly andpowerfully built. Sofy hadtold Damon of some of the

rumours circulating, thatJarydwasontheoutswithhisfather, and there had beenthreats and insults traded.Jaryd Nyvar's once shinyreputationhadbeentarnished.Apparently, when questionedon the death of LieutenantReynan,he'dnotbeensayingwhat some others had beenwanting to hear. Damonlooked across at one man inparticular—Pyter Pelyn,amidst a cluster of young

noble friends.PyterhadbeenLieutenant Reynan Pelyn'scousin. The last four days ofcontest, he and Jaryd hadbarelyspokenawordtoeachother.Damon completed a count

of the assembled riders, asgroupsofgigglingnoblegirlsgatherednearby,pointingandwhispering. “We're a ridershort,”herealised.“Danyth's shoulder came

upsorefromyesterday'sfall,”

said Jaryd. He swiped withhis hook, a shiny, curvedlengthofwoodaslongashisforearm, with a wide bladelike a shovel, and a long,sharp edge at the end. Noquestion about it, Damonthought—Jaryd was angrythis morning. He wonderedwhat hadhappened. “I foundareplacement.”“No shortage of those,”

said Damon. To representone's province in a great

Rathynal tournament was anhonour indeed. Although, itwas the tradition in suchtournaments that the princesof Baen-Tar would not takeone side, but rather wouldspread their number acrossthevarious teamsofcenayin.Tobe royaltywas to takenoside. Damon was pleased toknow that he, at least, hadqualified on merit—he didnotfeelanyaweoftheTyreemen he rode with, except

perhaps Jaryd. “Who'd youget?”“Over there,” said Jaryd,

pointingtowardtheclusterofreplacement horses, chewingand drinking from temporarymangers and water troughs.Damon looked, and saw twopeopleastridethesamehorse.The first was Sofy, laughingwith delight as the riderbehind guided her hands onthe reins and indicated whento apply the heelswith a tap

on the leg.Mostunbecomingof a Verenthane princess,Sofy's dress was pulled upnearly toherkneesand folksin the surrounding crowdwere staring. Surely thatcould not be a man behind?Archbishop Dalryn wouldhavehishead…The horse turned and

Damonsawshortdarkhair,alithe figure in pants andjacket, with a blade strappeddiagonally to her back. He

gave Jaryd a disbelievinglook. Jaryd snorted andtightenedhisglove.Sasha had arrived

yesterday afternoon,accompanied by two malefriends from Baerlyn, itselfsomethingofaminorscandal.Koenyg was unhappy thatonewasTeriyan,whoDamonrecalled from his stay inBaerlyn as a smart-mouth.The other was a gangly ladwho had worked the ranch

withSashaforyears.Kesslighwasnotwithher,

and that too had sent therumourmongers scurryinglike rats in a granary. Sashasaid he'd gone to Petrodor,butrumourssuggestedhewaseither dead, in hiding, ridingnorth to do battle with theHadryn single-handedly, orthat he and Sasha had had alover's tiff and he'dabandoned her. Somesuggested shewaswithchild

and he'd left for Petrodorbecause his task was done.And other rumours as well,toostupidtomention.Damon had found last

night's familydinnerachore.Alythia had sent icy barbsSasha's way and Sasha hadrepliedwithhotones.Koenyghad asked suspiciousquestionsofKesslighandthisTeriyan Tremel. Father hadsaid little—a dark, sombresentinelattheendofthetable

—while Wylfred hadattemptedtoexplaintoSashawhy it was not proper for ayoung Verenthane lady totravel alone with two malecompanions. Only Myklashad seemed to enjoy it, thewayanysixteen-year-oldboymight enjoy watching dogsfight, or a carriage load ofhistory scholars falling off acliff.If a strong family was the

core foundation of virtue, as

theVerenthanesinsisted,thenDamon reckonedhis family'shouse might have all thegodly virtue of a Petrodorbrothel.“I realise this is a stupid

question,” Damon remarked,turning to Jaryd, “but is thatwise?”Jaryd shrugged. “As the

onlyNasi-Kethpresent,sheisofficially the Nasi-Keth'srepresentative in thisRathynal. Form dictates one

personfromeachrepresentedparty should be invited toparticipate in thetournament.”“And that answers my

questionhow?”Jarydscowled.“Ihadabad

opinion of her myself, once.Then I saw her swordworkwithmyowneyesandIcameto know her at least a little,person to person. She forcedme to reconsider. Theaudienceheretodayisalittle

larger, but she deserves thechancetodothesame.”Sasha had torn strips off

manyayoungman'spride injunior lagand tournamentsacross the years, in Damon'smemory, and people had notlovedheranymoreforit.Butthe look in Jaryd's eyessuggested he was not to bearguedwith.Asteamcaptain,he could pick whomever hewished.A rising gasp came from

the crowd, then a roar as theTaneryn scored. Damonwondered if Lord Kraylisshimself was playing. Sashaand Sofy's horse cametrotting over and Sashaleaped off, then helped Sofyfromthesaddle.“You'd best prepare,

M'Lady,” Jaryd told Sasha,pointing to her bundledgear.“One more score and we'reon.”“Do you always tuck your

pants into your socks?” Sofyasked the young champion,withmildcuriosity.Jaryd looked down,

confusedly. “The…Imean, aman's pants can becomeentangled in the stirrups,YourHighness.Orworse, inyour opponent's stirrups, ortheir spurs if they wearthem.” He managed amischievous smile. “Aman'spants have been known tocome clean off, in such an

encounter.”“I should not want to see

that!” Sofy remarked, in atone that suggestedmuch theopposite. “Sasha, why didyou not informme as to thismost unexpected aspect oflagandbefore?”“Becauseit'ssuchaboring,

bloodthirsty activity,” Sashareplied, fastening armguardsover her shirt sleeves. “Yousaidsoyourself.”“Well, perhaps one could

learn to appreciate it better,”Sofy said mildly, with amischievous glance at Jaryd.“If one were educatedproperly.”“It'sjustabunchofsweaty

menonhorseswhackingeachother with sticks,” Damonsaid dryly. Sofy had neverliked lagand.Her tastesweremore refined. “Why are youboring yourself with ussavages, don't you have apoetry recital to attend? A

Larosanodetohowweareallbut smelly undergarmentsdangling from the tree oflife?”Sofy scowled at him.

“Sarcasmisthesurestsignofsavagery, dear brother,” shesaid disdainfully. “I wish tosee my sister ride, is that souncommon?”A tangled melee of horse

came thundering by,punctuated by the yells andgrunting exertion of men.

Past the waiting riders,Damon caught a glimpse ofwild-haired Goeren-yai menof Taneryn astride their littledussieh, their lagand hooksflailing.“Here,” said Sasha,

handingSofyherswordinitsscabbard. “There'sno swordsallowed on the field. Don'thandittoaguardtomind,I'dratheryoukeptityourself.Inhand.”“Is it valuable?” Sofy

asked dubiously, taking thescabbardwithcarefulhands.“It'sSaalshen-forgedandat

leastfivehundredyearsold,”Sasha told her. “Probably itcouldbuyeveryhorseon thefieldtoday.”Sofy pulled the blade a

short way from its sheath.“Fivehundredyears?Itlookssonew!”“Careful! Don't play with

it.And for spirits’ sakedon'ttry the edge, you'll lose a

finger.”“Okay, okay!” Sofy

slapped thehiltback into thescabbard. “I'll be watchingfromthebox.ImadeMyklaspromisehe'dsitwithmeforawhile…he's playing latertoday for Baen-Tar againstIsfayen, his friend MasterSerysinvitedhim.”“He's been playing for

Baen-TarprovincewithSerysfor the past four days,”Damontoldher.

“Well, I didn't know,okay?”Sofypouted.“I'vehadother things to do. Anyhow,Myklas said he'd explain therulestome.”“Rules, Your Highness?”

Jaryd asked with amischievousglint.“Oh, Master Jaryd!” Sofy

scolded. “Noblemenare suchsavages!”“And noblewomen find it

so distressing,” said Jaryd,with a glance toward the

clustered, whispering girlsnearby.Sofylookedamused.“Best

that you tighten your belt,HeirofTyree. I'dhate to seea young man lose his pantsbefore such an admiringcrowd.” She gave Sasha andDamon each a kiss on thecheekanddepartedinaswirlof skirts. A pair of RoyalGuardsmen followed and thecrowdpartedbeforethem.“Am I mistaken,” Jaryd

said uncertainly, “or was theprincess flirtingwithme justnow?”“A princess of Lenayin

does not flirt,” said Damon.“Everyoneknowsthat.”“I've heard it said that a

princess of Lenayin does notfart, either,” Sasha saidcheerfully, pulling on herheavy gloves. “But I happentoknowdifferently.”“Master Jaryd!” came a

new, angry voice. Damon

turned to find Pyter Pelynpushing past the jostle ofhorses. “This is Danyth'sreplacement?”HepointedhislagandhookatSasha.“Youhaveaproblemwith

that?”Jarydasked.“You insult me, and you

insultmyfamily'shonour!I'llnotridewiththis…”“Half the Falcon Guard

knowwhat trulyhappened toyour cousin!” Jaryd retorted.“If you'd ask them, you'd

discoverthetruth,butno,youinsist on preferring myfather's lies because it suitsyourpurposes!”“My father also says that

Sashandra Lenayin killedcousin Reynan!” Pytersnarled. “Do you call him aliartoo?”“Yourfatherwasnotthere!

Neither was mine. I killedyour cousin, Pyter. I killedhimwithmyownbladeasheattempted to kill Sashandra

from behind like a coward!SergeantGaryswas there,hecanvouchittrue!”Hepointedtothesergeant,

ashort,thick-builtmanwithabushy beard and tattoos onhis forehead. Sergeant Garyslooked at the ground. “Aye,”he said reluctantly. “On myhonour, you killed him,MasterJaryd.Anditwaswelldone.”“It's a conspiracy!” Pyter

fumed.Therewere friends at

hisback,now—fellownoblesall. The Falcon Guardsmen,Damonnoted, gatheredmoreto Jaryd's side. “FamilyNyvar have never likedFamily Pelyn, you fear us athreattothegreatlordship!”“I'd have more fear of a

sickgoat,”saidJaryd.“Enough!” Damon

shouted, stepping betweenthem. “This is the grandesttournament of the year!Tyree's honour is at stake.

The team is chosen and weshallcompete!Thisbickeringachievesnothing.”Pyter glared at him, as if

weighingtheconsequencesofan insult to a prince's face.Thenhespatandstalkedbackto his horse, his friendsfollowing.Damon turned on Jaryd.

“What'sgot intoyou today?”he demanded. “Are youdetermined to start a fight?We'reatmore risknowfrom

those fools on the field thanwearefromtheBanneryd.”Jaryd snorted and turned

back to his horse,unanswering. “No matter,Your Highness,” saidSergeant Garys, watchingPyter's departure with a darkstare, “we'll watch that onefor you. He'll not cause anyaccidents without befallingone himself, I'll promisethat.” Several guardsmengrowled agreement. The

Falcon Guard were mostlynot nobility. Even theVerenthanes among themwere not overly fond of thelikes of Pyter Pelyn. Theyhad, however, appeared tocome to a liking for JarydNyvar.Damon turned to Sasha.

She appeared not at allperturbed by the argument,stretching her arms behindher back, gloved fingersinterlaced. “It's going to get

rough out there,” Damonventured.“Good,”saidSasha.“Look, matters would be

vastly improved if you justdeclinedtotakepart…”“Give in to those lying

thieves,youmean?”All the rationalisations, all

the possible defences forTyree's nobility flew throughDamon'smind.But itwasallmanure and he knew it.“Yes,” he said instead, with

mountingexasperation.“Givein,Sasha.Justthisonce.”“No,” said Sasha. “That's

whereitstarts.”“Wherewhatstarts?”“If you don't know that,”

Sasha snorted, “then you'rethe biggest fool here.” Andshealsoattendedtoherhorse.Taneryn scored a winning

goal and paraded around thefieldinferocious,fist-wavingcelebration.Thenaheraldona white horse galloped onto

the field and announced thenext two sides. Damon putheels to his horse and theTeamofTyreegallopedontothe field.Banneryd cameoutopposite,fourteenbigmenonbig horses, holding a perfectline. Cavalry men of theBanneryd Black Storm, asgrim-faced and strong-muscledaselectionofLenaysoldiery as one was everlikely to see. At their headrodeCaptainTyrblanc,witha

bigsquarebeardandaclose-shaved scalp.He rodewith ahand on one hip, straight-backed in the saddle despitehis wide girth, and withbarely a glance at hisopposition.Only as they drew closer

didDamonrecognisethemanwho rode second, with aBannerydblackandblueshirtand saddlecloth. It wasKoenyg, as broad and strongas any of the cavalry, astride

hisfavouritechestnutstallion.The adjudicator waited

astridehiswhitehorsewithaballskin dangling from hishook. He dropped it as thetwo teams lined up oppositeeachother,andJarydandtheBannerydcaptaindismountedto inspect it. The ball was afolded bundle of skinswrapped with twine andleather strips, about the sizeof a man's chest. Jaryd dughis hook into the folds and

lifted, then tried the samewithahookthroughtheouterstraps and twine. Tyrblancdid the same, and bothseemed satisfied. Theyclasped forearm to forearm,but ifwordswere exchangedbetween them, Damon couldnot hear. Tyrblanc was thelarger, and by far the moreferocious-looking,butskillinlopping heads was notnecessarily the same as skillinhaulingtheball.

The teams then lined upabreast, facing the scaffoldseating. Archbishop Dalrynstood in his robes before theroyalboxandproclaimedthegods’ blessing uponproceedings. As that lineupdispersed, the TyreeGoeren-yai performed a chant in atongue Damon did notrecognise. The captainsreturned to the centre circlewith several others, and therest found their starting

positionsacrossthefield.Damon found himself

starting next to Koenyg. Hisbigbrothersmiledathim,thedark,knowingsmilethatonlyan older brother couldmanage, forebodingof futuretormentsandhumiliations.“I'd thought you were

busy?” Damon suggested, astheir horses jostled andsnorted, eager to beunderway.“Not toobusy to teachmy

little brother a lesson or twoin horsemanship,” PrinceKoenyg replied. Damon sattaller than Koenyg in thesaddle, yet he knew betterthan to take comfort in that.Koenyg was all muscle anddetermination. He wasCommander of Armies now,Kessligh's old title, besideshis usual responsibilities asthe heir—defence of therealmprimaryamongstthem.The king made broad

decisions, but where forceandstrategywereinquestion,it was up to Koenyg to turnthose decisions into action.Suchresponsibilitiesweretheapprenticeship that wouldprepareanheirforthetaskofkingship. There were those,however,who suggested thatthe king had delegated toomuch.“What's she doing here?”

Koenyg asked, nodding toSasha on the far side of the

field.“Her name's Sasha,”

Damon said sourly. “Youmight recall her—little terrorinadress,alwaysyelling?”Koenyggavehimawhack

across the stomach with theback of his hook, none toogently either. “This will betroubleforFamilyNyvar,”heremarked.Damon refrained from

hitting him back. It wasperhapsnotagreatideatohit

theheirinfrontofmorethanone thousand people. “Youdon'tsoundsurprised.”Koenyg gave him a

sideways look as his horsedanced and tried to rear.Koenygkneweverythingthatwent on within palace walls,andmanythingsbeyond,thatlook said. If Jaryd had had afightwith his father, the heirofLenayinwouldknow.Koenyg smiled. “You

shouldhavedeclaredKrayliss

in breach at Halleryn,” hesaid offhandedly. “If you'dkilledhimthere,wewouldn'thavethistroublehere.”“Itwouldhavecost lives,”

Damonretorted.“It may now cost more

lives. You've heard LordKumaryntriedtoarrestSashainBaerlyn?”“Iheard.”“The great lords are

relatively powerless, Damon,all save the northern three,

and perhaps Krayliss. Theirpower comes from havingtheir people united beneaththeir leadership. The otherslike Kumaryn are largelyignored by their own people.They insist the king needsthem, but in truth it's thenorth we need. The north isstrong,wemustkeepthemonourside.”“At the cost of justice?”

Damonretorted.“Most likely we'll have to

kill Krayliss anyway,” saidKoenyg. “Here or there,what'sthedifference?”“Sasha didn't leave much

choice,” Damon replied.“Krayliss threwhimselfuponthe king's mercy after herduel,Icouldhardlyrefuse.”“Sashahasahabitofsiding

with troublemakers,” saidKoenyg. “Best that youwiseuptoit,brother.”Damon snorted. “I'll not

lick the north's boots just

becauseit'sconvenient.”Koenygturnedahardgaze

upon him. A strong, broadface, more rounded thanDamon'sorSofy's.MorelikeSasha, Damon thought, andtheir departed mother. “Youwill if I tellyou to,”Koenygsaiddarkly.Damoncouldnotthinkofa

reply. Then the adjudicatorsaved him the trouble andyelledforastart.Tyrblanc drove his horse

straight at Jaryd, and Jaryd'smount shied aside. Otherhorses rushed the circle, butthe Banneryd were bettercoordinated, using theirhorses to block while onerider leaned low from hissaddleandhammeredtheballwith his hook. That riderwove past intercepting Tyreehorses, dragging the weightononearmandsteeringwiththe other, then a skilfulswitch of hands as Sergeant

Garyscamethunderinguponhis right, and hauled theheavy ball across the saddletotheprotectedside.Garys ducked a forearm

blow aimed at his head,jostlingtheBanneryd'shorse,steering him away from thegoals toward the outer wingasamassedthunderofhorsespursued. Damon galloped tothedefence,between theballand the goals. AnotherBanneryd horse blocked

Garys's, which rearedalarmingly, and the ballcarriergallopedfreedowntheflank,tothecheersofslightlynervous spectators on theperimeter, who were pleasedto see the action come close,but were making to scatterevennow.Banneryd riders formed a

blocking perimeter for theirman, harassing those whotried to intercept, but alreadyaTyreehorsewas comingat

him from the right, andanother, unnoticed, hadsomehow come ahead tostand unattended on theperimeter line. As the ballcarrier'sattentionswitched tohis new assailant, theunnoticed rider dug in heelsand accelerated up the line.Theball-carriersaw,toolate,and tried to switch the ball,but the charging rider leanedleft-handed from the saddleas the horses slashed past in

opposite directions, andsmackedballonhooksohardit tore the Banneryd's hookfromhishand.Damonwas already racing

in pursuit to assist, weavingpast the mass of confusedriders, who tried to changedirection or figure out whathad happened…and thereahead was Sasha, racing attop speed astride a middle-sized dunmare, her left armlow and behind her with the

weight of the ball on herhook.Shegallopedrightpastthe noses of the Taneryncontingent on the sidelines,who roaredandcheeredas ifshe were one of their veryown.Ahead, two Banneryd

riderscameacrossfromdeepdefence to block her way…whereweretheTyreeforwardblockers, Damon wondered?Then he saw them, holdingback and making no attempt

tomakeapathforSasha.OneofthemwasPyterPelyn.Sasha swung the ball

acrosshersaddletotheright,pulledhardleft,swingingherhorseacrossandexposingherright side…a Banneryd riderheld back, turning in a circleincaseshereversedandtriedto flank him. Sasha held herline, heading for the secondBanneryd rider, then tried todive between him and hiscomrade. It was suicide, and

they converged on her, butSashathrewaglanceoverhershouldertoDamon,tookbothhandsoff thereinsandthrewtheballtwo-handedofftoherleft.It hit and rolled, catching

both Banneryd riders wrong-footed. Damon acceleratedstraight for it and leaned lowfromhis saddle to swing.Hefelt the hook catch, and theweight on his arm…andnearly slipped, his heart

racingashesuddenlynoticedthe speed at which the grassflewpast.OneBannerydriderwason

himbeforehecouldproperlyreseat, as Sasha blocked theother with dangerous force,deflecting one blowwith herarmguard, and returning ahard one of her own to thecavalryman's middle. Damonswung the ball across hissaddle to the left hand,fendingwithhisright,butthe

Banneryd's pressure washard, forcing him across theface of the goals. Nowbehind, the great mass ofriderswascatchinghim. Inamoment, he knew he'd beswamped.Theweightonhis leftarm

suddenly disappeared and heturned inastonishment toseeJaryddroppingbackfromhisleft. Where the hells had hecome from? The ball neatlystolen, Jaryd reined back

behind Damon and tore forthe goals. Two Bannerydpursuersarrivedfrombehind,one chasing on each side.Jaryd swung the ball to hisleft side and, as the rider onthatsidetriedtosnatchit,heswungitbackstraightintotheright-sideman'sface.Thatmanflailedandnearly

fell, his horse falling back.Jarydswungintoacontrolledcollisionwiththeotherhorse,gaining space and ducking a

forearm swing, and thenSashawas there to backhandtheBanneryd's shoulderwiththe back of her hook. A lastBannerydridercameinfront,looking left and then rightover his shoulder to try andblock…but Jaryd feintedthree, four, five times untiltheothermanwentthewrongway, and with an explosiveburst of speed, he shot past,reversed the ball to theprotected side and galloped

across the line between thetallerynposts.“M'Lady!” he called to

Sasha as they cantered threeabreast back to the centrecircle. “That was a lovelysteal!Mycompliments!”“Says he who only beat

four defenders across theline!” Sasha replied happily.Sherodelighterinthesaddlethanmostmen,Damonnoted,andshemovedinthestirrupswith almost acrobatic

confidence when contestingtheball.Hereyesshonewithanenthusiasmthatseemedtolightherupfromheadtotoe.There were those, likeAlythia, who insisted thatSasha's only motivation inbeing what she was, was tospite her family and peers.Damon had thoughtsomething like it himself,once…butseeinghernow,herealised that Sasha could nomorehelpbeingwhatshewas

than Alythia could, or Sofy,or Koenyg. This was whereshe belonged. To deny herthat, because it offendedVerenthane sensibilities,seemedsuddenlyludicrous.Damon saw Pyter Pelyn

ahead and accelerated tointercepthim.“You ride for Tyree,” he

told Pyter harshly, comingalongside.“Whenyourfellowrider needs a block to reachthe goals, you provide it.

Understand?”“That rabid bitch is no

Tyree comrade of mine,”Pytersnarled.“That rabid bitch is a

hundredfold the rider you'llever be!” Damon snapped.“And better yet, that rabidbitch is my sister. You callher that again, I'll mistakeyourheadfortheball.”The following round was

messier, the Bannerydcontinuing their formation

tactics to better effect. Thepack rumbled forward, menwheeling, yelling andhacking, as the northernersrelentlessly pushed to thegoals. A Tyree rider wasunhorsed, but climbed backinto the saddle apparentlynonetheworse.Anothertooka back-side hook to the faceandbledfromthenose.Jarydblocked Captain Tyrblanc ina rearing, lashing collision,andTyrblancretaliatedwitha

sharp-ended hook to Jaryd'sside. Jaryd's quilted tunicseemedtotaketheblowwell,butitwasillegalallthesame,and Damon spared amoment's respite to glare atthe adjudicator canteringnearby on his white horse, ared flag in one hand but notraised.Things degenerated into a

wildmelee,menleaningfromtheir saddles, jostling forposition, gaining the ball

briefly only to have it tornfrom their hook. One of theFalcon Guardsmen wasjostledbyPyterPelyn,nearlylost his seat, and then did soas a northerner hooked hisstirrup.Hecrasheddownandcurledup,armsoverhisheadas hooves stamped andthrashed all about.Again theadjudicator saw nothing.Koenyg then won free, withtwo Banneryd men forbattering rams, and

completed a weaving runtoward the goals, avoidingattempted interceptions withtremendous skill until heflashedbetweentheposts.The next several rounds

were all to the northerners’advantageastheyscoredfourmore times without reply.Many of the side's Tyreenobles engaged willinglyenough on their own, butrefused to lend assistance toJaryd, Sasha or even Damon

when they received the ball.Horses were changed, as thestartingmountsbegantogaspandfroth.Inthemidstofoneround, theballflewtopiecesas the twining leathersnapped,andplaypaused fora new one to come from thesidelines.WhenJarydreturnedtothe

centre circle following thenext Banneryd score, hewasfuming mad. “You're allhonourless cowards!” he

shoutedatPyterandhisnoblecompanions. “You wear thegreen of Tyree as if it weresomethingtowipeyourarseson! Fight for your honour,you motherless bastards, orby the gods I'll see yourfamily banners thrown intotheshitascarpetsforthepigsthrough the rest of thisRathynal!”The outburst, Damon

observed, was not wellreceived.

Thefollowingroundwasaseriesofslashingrunsbyoneside and then the other,withthe horses finding room torunas theplaybecamemorespread out. Damon had onegood run himself past thecheering scaffold beforegetting cornered against theperimeter line and losingpossession. Pyter Pelyn triedto hook the ball but missed,andtworidersfromopposingsides and directions came

straight at each other, eachrider leaning low on onestirrup with hooks ready.With typical Lenaystubbornness, neither gaveway,and theycollidedabovethe ballwith a violent tangleoflimbs.Garyshooked theball, but

was hacked on the arm byKoenyg, and lost it again. ATyreeman tookahardblockfrom Tyrblanc, givingKoenyg time towheel about,

but then Sasha careenedacross his front, spinninghermountacrosstheball'srollingpath,andsomehowusingherhorse's momentum to leanlowandwideandriptheballaway from Koenyg's reach.She continued the spin,reversed the ball, and shotoff, dodging one northernerand then another, Koenygcursinginclosepursuit.Suddenly Jaryd was there,

blockingtheheirtotheLenay

throne with a vigour somemen might not have dared.“Go Sasha!” Damon heardhimyelling,ashefollowedinpursuit, and another ridercame flying toward Jarydfrom the side. It looked likean intercept, even thoughJaryddidnothave theball…and Damon saw with asudden chill through thesweaty heat that theinterceptorwasPyterPelyn.“Jaryd, to your right!”

Damon yelled. Jaryd swungabout, raising an arm toblock. Pyter's hook caughthim about the shoulder andyanked him from the saddle.Jaryd fell with all thegraceless horror of a mandeliberately unhorsed,slammed hard into the turfand rolled repeatedly. Thenhestopped,anddidnotmove.Damon swore, reined up

alongside and dismounted,fearingtheworst—manymen

had died on the lagand field,or become cripples for life.“Jaryd!” He knelt at thelordling's side and listenedagainst his lips…Jaryd wasbreathing,sothatwasastart.Thenhiseyelidsflutteredandhis legs moved. That waseven better. About them,otherhorseshad stopped, thegame apparently suspended.Except foronehorse, thathecould hear galloping hard…yells of warning and

anticipation came from thecrowd.Damon looked up to see

Sasha tearing directly towardPyter Pelyn. She'd seen it.Thatwasn'tgood.Shehithimwithabackhookto theface,which sent him reeling fromthe saddle. That wasn't goodeither. Then Pyter's noblefriendswere after her, hooksraised with clear intent.Falcon Guardsmen set off inpursuit and a brawl erupted,

horses jostling and menswinging.Threemore nobleswere quickly unhorsed—theTyree nobility might havebeen a dab hand at lagand,but against FalconGuardsmen they were littlematchinafight.Jaryd struggled to sit

upright, wincing in pain. Hetried to put weight upon hisleft arm and bit back ascream.Damonsupportedhisweight, as Koenyg

dismounted alongside.Nearby, the fight wasbreaking up. The adjudicatorraised his red flag at Sasha.Sashathrewherhookathim,andwouldhavedraggedhimphysicallyfromhishorsehadnotaGuardsmanintervened.“I think it's broken,”

Damon said wearily toKoenyg, feeling gently atJaryd'sarm.“It's not,” Jaryd said

fervently. “I've broken bones

before,thisisn'tasbad.”Andnearly screamed again whenhetriedtomoveit.“It's broken, you fool,”

Koenyg told him, kneelingalongside. “The way youcameoff,you'reluckyit'snotyour neck.” Damon couldunderstand Jaryd's reluctancetoadmitit.Manybreaksresetcleanly, with goodmedicine,splints, binding andsometimes some skilledknifework.Butsomedidnot,

and men would carry thosedeformed limbs to theirgrave.“That shit pile Pyter,”

Jarydmuttered, his face palewith pain. “I'll duel him.Maybehe'llfindsomehonourwithaswordinhisgut.”“With that arm?” Koenyg

snorted. Some more horseswere riding now from theperimeter, no doubt with ahealer astride, someone whoknew how to move a man

withbrokenbones.“When I've recovered

then,”Jarydinsisted.“I'llkillhim,youwatch.”“The road you're

travelled,” Koenyg saidsharply, “you won't live thatlong.Takesomeadvicefromsomeone in a position toknow, lad.Youmaynotcarefor your own neck, but ifyou've any concern for yourfamily, you'll apologise toMasterPyterandnevertalkto

mywildsisteragain.”“She's the one coming to

my defence,” Jaryd retorted,breathlessly. “You're tellingme these…these honourlesscowards aremy true friends,and thosewhorisk theirownnecks to ride at my side aremyenemies?”Koenyg shook his head in

disgust and rose to his feet.“Ifyoudon'tknowtheanswerto that question, Heir ofNyvar,”hesaidsourly,“then

Ifearfornotonlyyourfuture,butyourfamily's.”

The morning was overcast,with a blustery wind thatblew grey, misting swirlsalong the valley's upperslopes. Lord Usyn Telgar, aman of the cold northernheights, did not mind thechill.He sipped hot tea fromhis tin cup, wrapped in his

warmest fur cloak, andobserved a sight of purewonder.Ten catapults. Great,

ungainly woodencontraptions, never beforeused in Lenay wars. Thehorses that had hauled themup the length of the valleynow grazed somewherebehind the tent forest on thegrassy slopes beside theYumynisRiver.Thecatapultsnow sat in a line across

grassy fields on this, theeastern side of the river,swarmed about withlabouringmen.Facing the contraptions, a

vast,darkstonewallspannedthe width of the valley. Itstood perhaps the height offive men—too tall for theladders.MorethanhalfoftheHadryn army were cavalry,and not equipped for suchobstacles. Thick buttressesreinforced the wall at even

intervals, and two hugewooden doors with weldedmetal binding stood thirtystrides from the river's edgeon this eastern side. Beneaththewall,theriversurgedwitharoaroffoamandspray—theUdalyn had diverted themighty Yumynis to flowthrough a narrow channel,above which spanned thewall's arch. It was moreingenuity than Usyn hadexpectedofthepagans.Butit

wouldnothelpthem.A nearby catapult groaned

and strained as men hauledthe two great wheel-spokes,winding the rope tighter andtighter. Two men carried aheavy rock between them,musclesstraining,andplacedit into the sling. The releasemechanismwas checked andmen moved away to a saferdistance.Anofficeryelledtheorderand thefiringropewaspulled—the catapult's safety

catch released and the ropeunwound with a squealingrush, hauling the long armand sling skyward. Crack!The arm pulled up short,lurching the entirecontraption nearly enough totopple it, and the huge rockcontinued onward, hurtlinghigh and long toward thewall. A distant thud, as itshuddered the great walldoors, adding yet anotherwhite, splintered mark in its

surface, before joining thegrowing pile on the earthbeforethedoors.A man arrived to stand at

Usyn'sside,asteamingcupinhishand.ItwasYuanHeryd,similarly rugged against thecold,with the look of amannewlywoken.Heryd had ledmuch of the advance up thevalley'slengthandwassurelytired. It had taken a full daylongertosweeptothevalley'sendthanHerydhadexpected.

Udalyn defences had beensurprisingly sophisticated.The valley had many roadsand trails that meanderedalong its steep sides, eachsuccessively higher than thelast, as the slopes rose upfrom the broad valley floor.Thesewerewellforested,anddotted with cultivated fields,farmhouses, retaining walls,fencesandwatercourses.TheUdalynhadusedall,in

their defences. Major forces

moving along the flat valleyfloor had confronteddefended barricades blockingthe best routes. Even whenbreached, a straight drive upthe valley floor risked aflanking ambush from theheight of a neighbouringslope. The valley slopes hadhad tobeclearedat anequalpace, but that going provedeven slower, as ridersadvancing along narrow,windingroadswereshotwith

arrows, pelted with rocksfrom higher vantages, orunexpectedly ambushed bysuicidally brave pagansleapingfromcovertohackathorse and rider withindiscriminateabandon.Soferocioushadbeentheir

defences that, at times,Usynhad wondered if the Udalynhad made the worstmiscalculationofall,andhadtried to win the battleoutright. The combined

Hadryncompaniesandmilitiawere not the untested rabbleof a century ago—trade andexchanges with theirlowlandsVerenthanebrothershad improved the quality ofHadryn horses, weapons,armour, tactics and fightingskills considerably. TheUdalynhaddiscoveredthistotheir loss, with barely amailshirt or a crossbowbetween them.Hundreds hadfallen, their bodies strewn

across the roads andbarricades of their preciousvalley.But their sacrifice had

served its purpose, as thevalleycottagesandfarmshadbeen emptied of both peopleand livestockby the time theHadrynarmyhadarrived.Allnowshelteredbehindthis,thegreat Udalyn wall, at the farnorthern end of the valley.Great walls of sheer rockloomed at the valley's end

beyond thewall,brokenonlybytheplummetingroaroftheYumynis Falls. The Udalynweretrappedinthere.Gettingthemoutwasjustamatteroftime.There was a squeal and

crack as another catapultfired. “A glorious sight, is itnot?”UsynsaidtoHeryd,hiseyestrackingtherock'sflightthroughtheair.Thud.Heryd nodded. “Aye, my

Lord. Do you know your

father'spriceforthem?”“Fifteen pieces each,”

Usynsaidsmugly.“Madeandtransported from Larosaitself. The Bacosh are trulymastersofwar.Itwouldbeagrand thing to campaignthere.”“Aye, itwould, for such a

holy cause.” Heryd's lipspursed, considering the greatdoors. “The pagans buildwell. Doubtless those doorshave been reinforced behind.

Wemay splinter the timbers,yetnotbreakthrough.Worse,we litter our approach withrocks.Menmaytrampleeachother in a crush, assaultingsuch a space under archerfire.”Usyn stared at the doors,

now clearly weakeningbeneath the catapults’combinedassault.Hehadnotconsidered Heryd's concerns.Itangeredhim.“Whydidyounot say so earlier?” he said

harshly.“My apologies, my Lord,”

said Heryd. “I was sleeping.The terrain was difficult, Ilostahundredplusmen.”“We are thousands!”Usyn

said angrily. “Our friendsfrom Banneryd are riding toassist us in Taneryn, oncehere they can relieve ourforces from Ymoth instead,and then we shall be more.This battle must be wonbefore the southern pagans

realise what is happening! Icannot tolerate furtherdelays!”“Aye, M'Lord,” Heryd

agreed. He pointed to a spotfurther along the wall. “Isuggest we divert half thecatapults and begin a newpointofentry.Thestonewallshall take longer, but toguarantee a successfulassault, I would like anotherentry point at least, perhapstwo.”

Usyn considered,broodingly. Udys Varancontinued to speak ill wordsof himwith the captains andnobles, he was certain of it.The Hadryn Shields weresworn by oath to familyTelgar, but their captain wasa cousin to the Varans. Thebulkofthearmyweremilitia,and no less capable for that,as in most of Lenayin…buttheirallegiancesweredividedamongst the noble families

and their respective townsand regions. He had cousinsand uncles amongst thoseserving,yettheyaffordedhimlittle comfort. Some spokeangry words of Udys Varanand implied the newLord ofHadryn weak in not dealingwith him more sternly. Butthe soldiers respected theseasoned Udys, clearly morethan the untested heir ofTelgar.Usynfelttrapped,andincreasinglyresentful.

“Deploy the catapults asyou see fit,” he said finally.“Should we not also breachthe wall on the west of theriver?”“No,M'Lord,” saidHeryd.

“That would force us todivide our forces to eitherbank, and the pagans havedestroyedthelastbridge.TheUdalynhavenopointof exiton that side, let's keep thembottled up and not exposeourselves to a flanking

assault.”“As you will,” said Usyn,

shortly. Heryd sipped at histea, unruffled by his lord'stempers. Usyn regarded himfor a moment. Yuan HerydAnsyn. Family Ansyn hadlong been allies of theTelgars. Usyn's mother hadbeen an Ansyn, the sister ofHeryd's father. Somesuggested Heryd's daughterforamatchwithUsyn.Usyndisliked the notion—the girl

waspallidandspotty.Buthewondered what her fatherthought. “Some of the mensay that I am too young tocommandthiseffort,”hesaidnow.Heryd swallowed his tea

and shrugged. “None canchoose the time of theirfather's passing,” he said.“Family Telgar have ruledHadryn since the Liberation.The turn was always yours,myLord.”

“Our ascension waschallenged by some,” Usynsaid darkly. “Many Varansfeel the great lordship wasrightfullytheirsandthatKingSorosmadeamistaketograntittous.”“Not I, my Lord,” said

Heryd,fixinghimwithapaleblue gaze. A big man, withblond hair beneath his helmand a heavy, honest face.“Family Ansyn has been anally to Family Telgar since

before the Liberation, andalwaysshallbe.”“And Family Varan?”

Usynaskedbluntly.“Family Telgar won the

great lordship through valourin battle,” Heryd replied.“Your ancestors slew manyof the Cherrovan, and thenmany more of the traitorouspagans in the cleansing tofollow. Clearly your bloodwas chosen by the gods torule.None inHadryndispute

it. Prove yourself now, myLord,andremindthemofthatchoice.Thegods’willcannotsoeasilybeundone.”Another catapult shot

clatteredandwhistled.Herydfinished his tea, bowed anddeparted. Usyn watched himgo, his fingers clenchedtightlyabouthiscup.Victoryin battle, the cornerstone ofall honour. He'd show thatfool Varan. He'd show himthetruemeaningofvictory.

A new presence arrived athis left elbow and he turnedto findFatherCelys in blackrobeswithhisstaffinhand.“My Lord,” said Celys

withabow,abaldmanwithathin grey beard. “MyLord, Iwondered if I could have aword?”“Of course, Father,” said

Usyn, turning to face himwith as much lordly dignityas he couldmuster.He likedthispart—thepartwheremen

hehadknownhiswhole life,and who had never shownhim the respect he deserved,now suddenly had to bowbefore him and lower theireyes.“HowcanIhelpyou?”“Well, my Lord…there is

the matter of the pagans’bodies.Itisthecustomoftheorder that even an enemyshould receive a properburial…”“These are not merely

enemies, Father,” Usyn said

coldly. “These are pagans.They spit on the rightfulgods, as their ancestors spatonthemduringtheLiberationand assisted their enemies.Their souls now descend tothe fires of Loth to burn foreternity, and I say goodriddance. Burn the bodies.Anddoitbeforethewalls,sotherestofthemcansee.”Father Celys took a deep

breath and swallowed hard.“Aye, M'Lord.” Usyn

regarded him disdainfully.His father had suspectedFather Celys of defectivemoral character for a longtime. The Bishop of Hadrynhad always been moreinterested in convertingpagans than killing them.“However, if it pleases myLord, I would requestpermission to entreaty thepagans behind the wall tosave their souls byconversion.”

Usynsnorted.“Thatisyourright, Father—souls are abishop's prerogative just aslivesarealord's.”“And should they agree,

M'Lord…wouldyouconsiderasurrender?”Usyn glared at him, lips

pressed thin. His temperboiled. “We hold theHadryn's most ancientenemiesbythethroatandyouwouldbegformercyontheirbehalf?”

Father Celys ducked hishead.“No,M'Lord.But…butone would like to makecontingencies, for futureplans. When the walls arebreached, M'Lord, there willbe many more bodies todisposeof,andtheirsoulstoowillbeinquestion…”“Burn them,” Usyn said

coldly.“Burnthemall.”“Aye, M'Lord. And the

prisoners, M'Lord? What ofthem?”

Usyn raised a thineyebrow.“Prisoners?”“Thewomen and children,

M'Lord.”LookingupatUsynhopefully, from beneathlowered brows. “When theholy armies reachedTorovanfrom the Bacosh fivecenturiesago, theydidreporta great success at persuasiveconversionswith thewomen,withouttheirmenfolktheretoprotect them. The paganwomenfolkaregoodworkers,

wecould…”“There shall be no

prisoners,FatherCelys,”saidUsynTelgar,LordofHadryn.“This valley is lacking infirewood,Iwouldguess.Bestthatyoumakeplanstocollectsome.”

SASHAWOKEEARLYTHENEXT

MORNING, and did herexercises on the floor ofSofy's chambers while hersisterslepton,peacefulinthewash of morning sunlightthrough the windows. Thetaka-danswokeher,however.“I'd never thought

something so deadly couldlook so beautiful,” Sofy saidfrom her pillows as Sashalowered her blade. Sofygazedwithamazement.Sashaperformedthelastthirdofthedefensive elia-dan, the silverbladeflashinginthesunlight,finding the perfect form offoot,wristandshoulder.Thensheathed the sword over hershoulder in one, smoothmotion.“Da'el she'hiel alas

themashel,”Sashatoldher.“Is that Saalsi?” Sofy

asked,enchanted.“Whatdoesitmean?”“Literally, ‘the beauty of

danger’…only that doesn'ttranslate well, does it? MostSaalsi doesn't. It basicallymeans that all dangerousthings are beautiful. Butserrin words rarely statethingssodirectly.”“Oh, I'd love to learn

Saalsi,” Sofy sighed, rubbing

her eyes. She yawned. “Areyougoingforarun?”“Always,” said Sasha,

stretching her thighs. “Wanttocome?”“You're crazy!” Sofy

laughed.“Whatwouldpeoplethink?”“Idon'tknow.Whatwould

peoplethink?”“A princess of Lenayin

does not run,” Sofy saidprimly. And yawned again.“Especiallynotsoearly.”

“Thank the spirits for that,then,” Sasha said cheerfully.“I'd hate to be mistaken forsomethingI'mnot.”She collected Teriyan and

Andreyisfromtheirchambersinthesouthernguestquartersand walked with them alongthe grand halls, alongsidebalconies overlooking thesouthern courtyards andgardens. Groundsmentrimmed the bushes andswept thepaths, and servants

scurried about their earlymorning duties. Few of theguestingnobilityhadrisen.Their morning run took

them on the road circuitwithin the city walls. SashapointedouttheSorosLibrary,theRoyalGuardbarracksandthe merchants’ square, nowfillingwith traders unloadingcarts of fruit and vegetables,bags of grain and racks offowl or fish. Many of thetraders were Goeren-yai and

gavea cheer as they sawherpass.Sashawavedcheerfullyinreturn.Their run completed, she

sparred with Teriyan andAndreyisinthegreattraininghall beside the Royal Guardbarracks.Bynowthehallwasfilling with soldiers, andsomenobles,andthetriometwith men of the FalconGuard, who greeted themwarmly. The ensuing sessionwas lively, yet Sasha

refrained from making toomuch of a scene. SomeVerenthane soldiers, and afew nobles, gave her darklooksacrossthefloor.“Word is the Kradyc

family's right mad with you,M'Lady,” said one man-at-arms as he recovered hisbreathing, rubbing the bruiseonhisside.“Kradyc?” Sasha asked

him,loweringherstanchtoaready posture. A true

svaalverd fighter was nevertruly resting, and the bladewasalwaysready.“TheRanash family.Their

unclewastheadjudicatoryounear pulled from his horseyesterday.”“Oh, the lagand match.”

Sheshruggedandtwirledherstanch. “The adjudicatorwasRanash? No wonder hewouldn'tgiveusacall.”“MasterPyterPelynmeans

to take the fieldwithout us,”

said the grizzled corporalnearby,leaningonhisstanch.He had a scar across onecheek that took half an earandtheuppersideofhisjaw,turning his speech to amumble.“NoFalconGuard'llride with the fool, not afterwhat he did toMaster Jaryd.Tyree will miss the titlematchesforsure.”“First time in three

Rathynals,” the man-at-armssighed. “Probably Taneryn

will win now, that'll makeLordKraylissrealhappy.”“Is Krayliss competing?”

Andreyisasked.“No,” said the corporal,

“not before his trial.Might Iask when the trial is,M'Lady?”“No idea,” said Sasha, in

all honesty. No one had toldher. She suspectedcontroversy on the questionof Lord Krayliss's trial.Krayliss was full of bluster

and determined to pick afight. Should the trial beclosed from public view todepriveKraylissofapodiumforhisgrievances?Orwoulda closed trial make the kingand his lordships appearweak?“Any idea of where the

new Lord Telgar might be,M'Lady?” the corporalpressed, raising his lock-jawedmumbletocarryabovethe yells and clashing wood

ofthehall.“GivenneitherhenortheHadrynhavecomeforRathynal?”“Idon'tknowwhyyouask

me,”Sashasaidalittletestily.“No one tells me anythingaroundhere.”“Something about you

being the king's daughter,”Teriyansaidsarcastically.“AmI really?”Sashagave

Teriyanawarninglook.“Is it true the Hadryn are

going after the Udalyn

Valley?” the man-atarmswantedtoknow.“That'sjustarumour,lad,”

thecorporalsaidgruffly.“Weshouldn't be botheringM'Lady Sashandra withrumours.Besides,LordUsynwouldn'tdare.I'mnoGoeren-yai, but I serve with plenty,andthey'dneverstandforit.”He gave Teriyan a wizenedstare.Teriyan shrugged broadly.

“We'dhavetomakeaunified

stand to stop it,” he said.“Just inmypartofValhananalone,we'vegot villages thathave barely spoken or tradedwitheachother forcenturies,and others that still skirmishto thisday,despite theking'slawforbiddingit.Howisthatrabble going to stop thelordships from doinganything?”“You sound just like a

Verenthane bigot!” Andreyisretortedangrily.

“I'm Goeren-yai, I'mallowed to,” said Teriyan,putting his stanch across hisbroad shoulders and hookinghisarmsontotheends.“Ijustspeak the truth, lad. To findthe solution, first we mustrecognise the problem.Otherwise we're like a manwithabrokenlegwhorefusessplintsorcrutchestosavehispride and ends up a crippleforlife.”HeglancedatSasha.“That'swhatKesslighalways

said,anyway.”“Kessligh said a lot of

things,”Sashasaidquietly.“Aye,” said Teriyan, “he

always toldapersonwhathethought,whether itwaswhattheywanted to hear or not. Ialways liked that about him.Hewasn'talwaysright,buthealwaystriedtomakeapersonthink. Lots of Goeren-yainever liked what he had tosay about them—folks neverdo like being told their own

worst flaws, most especiallywhen they're true. But beingscared to face the truth iscowardice, I reckon. And noGoeren-yailikesacoward.”Sasha left Teriyan and

Andreyistotheirsparringandheaded back to merchant'ssquare—Andreyis needed asmuch practice as possible,and she herself foundsparring against non-svaalverd fighters only sohelpful. It exercised her eye,

reflexesandmuscles,butsheknew she'd achievemore forher technique by practisingtaka-dansalone.As she walked along a

cobbled road throughmorning crowds, she thoughton what Teriyan had said.“Tofindthesolution,firstwemust recognise theproblem.”It was Nasi-Keth thinking,throughand through.Teriyanwasawell-readman,andhadaccumulated many books, a

rarethingforaruralGoeren-yai. He was also one of theproudest Goeren-yai she'dever met. Surely he wasangry, and frustrated, to besaying such things at such atime. Sasha knew he hadfriends about the land,contacts with whom he keptintouch,asKesslighdidwithhis Nasi-Keth friends inPetrodor.HewouldbetalkingnowwithGoeren-yaisoldiersand others attending

Rathynal, with all theseevents and rumours afoot.Suddenlyshewasworriedforhim. She hoped he wouldn'tdo anything stupid, or getdrunk and start a fight withthatbig,loudmouthofhis.SheheadedtotheGarrison

Barracks, where Jaryd wasquartered with the FalconGuard. It was a broad, greystone building with severalwings about a centralcourtyard, all teeming with

Falcon Guardsmen and menof the Black Hammers ofsouthernRayenprovince.All the provincial

companies of Lenayin wererequired to serve six monthsgarrison duty in Baen-Tar atone time or other…all savethe northern companies,whowere on constant watchagainst the Cherrovan threatandcouldnotbespared.Suchrotations helped the unity ofLenayin, it was said. What

wasnotsaid(oratleastnotasoften) was that it alsounderlined how little truepower the Lenay king held.TheRoyalGuardwere his—nearlyathousandmen,drawnfrom all over Lenayin. Butthey were rarely used awayfrom Baen-Tar, lest thecapital be left undefended.TheLenaythrone,ultimately,hadonly asmuchpower andprotection as the great lordswished it to have. The great

lordsallowedthekingtorulebecause the archbishop saidthekingwasthegods’chosenrepresentative in Lenayinand, more to the point,because it was better totolerate a king in Baen-Tarthan the awful, bloodysquabble that would surelyeruptifhewereremovedandthe provinces fought forpoweramongstthemselvesastheyoncehad.EvenSasha,uninterestedin

the affairs of nobility as shetypically was, could see thatit was an imperfectarrangement at best. Suchwere the compromises thather great-grandfather Soroshad been forced to make inorder to sell the fractiouspeoples of Lenayin on thenew, central power of Baen-Tar. So far, successiveLenayin kings had refrainedfrom spending any more ofthe royal tax revenue on

building royal armies—KingSoros had known that apowerfulkingwithenormousarmies would have beenopposedtoothandnailbytheprovinces whatever theirnewfound Verenthanefervour. The alternativewouldhavebeenforthegreatlords to raise those royaltaxes themselves…butconsidering the purposes towhichtheywouldwishtoputsuchtaxes, therewasnoway

theGoeren-yaiwereabout towear that, either. And so,what remained was a shakyagreement between the greatlords and the king that if theprovinces did not causetrouble, the king would notraise armies, and wouldinsteadcontinue to spend theroyaltaxonthingsthepeopleneeded…or at least werethought to need, on the rareoccasion they were actuallyasked.

That shaky arrangement,Sashacould seemoreclearlyof late than ever, was nowbeing tested. It had lastedroughly a century now, aperiod of unprecedentedpeace and stability inLenayin. Kessligh, for one,hadvoicedamazementthat ithad even lasted that long. Agreat wind, he'd said, wouldbreak a brittle tree. And atsome point, the king wouldhave to decide whether his

own relative powerlessnesswasaworthwhilepricetopayforstability…A Falcon Guardsman

admitted her to thecommander'schamberswithafriendly greeting, and shefoundJarydseatedupright inhis wide bed, dressed in aplain shirt with the sheetspulled to his middle, his leftarm in a sling across thechest. A boy of perhaps ten,with sandy hair and freckles,

satonJaryd'sbedside,talkinganimatedly.“M'Lady Sashandra!”

JarydexclaimedcheerfullyasSashaentered.“HaveyoumetmylittlebrotherTarryn?”“I have not had the

honour,”saidSasha.Theboytwisted about to stare at her.“Master Tarryn, I'm verypleased to meet you. I hopeyou're better at staying onyour horse than yourbrother.”

Jarydlaughed.“He was knocked off!”

Tarryn said indignantly.“Pyter Pelyn did it, he neverplays fair. I was just tellingJaryd, Pyter Pelyn's sonGarret cheats at four-sticks!He's in some of my classeshere,Ineverlikedhim.”“I'm not surprised,” said

Sasha and bounced onto theend of Jaryd's bed. Tarrynstaredatthatmostunladylikeact. “How's the arm?” she

askedJaryd,kneeling.“It's not so bad,” said

Jaryd.His facewas pale andhisbrownhairhunglankandunwashed,buttheconfidencein his tone made Sashabelieve it. “The healer saysit's just a small break of theforearm,hedidn'tneedtousetheknife.Hebounditandputin splints for support, but itshouldhealcleaninlessthana month. The elbow andshoulder are all swollen, but

thatshouldhealtoo,hesaid.”“That's wonderful!” Sasha

exclaimedwith feeling. “Theway you came off, I wascertain you'd smashedsomethinggood!”“He says it doesn't hurt,”

Tarryn said eagerly, with amischievous smile. “Healways says it doesn't hurt.Hefelldownsomestairsonceandsplithisheadopen,therewas blood everywhere. Ourhousehealerhad toclean the

woundwithboiledwine, andJaryd said that didn't hurteither.”“Nothing hurts after you

faint,” Sasha said wryly.There was a wine pitcher onthe bedside table and a bowlof something that smelledstrongly of crushed herbs.Sasha knew well that evenwith such remedies, Jaryd'sarmwouldhurt likehell.Butfew Lenay men would showpain in awoman's vicinity…

andevenlesssotoayoungerbrother.“I never did,” Jaryd said

mildly. “This is my thirdbreak,I'veneveryetfainted.”“You're pretty,” said

Tarryn.Sasha blinked at him in

surprise. And grinned.“Thankyouverymuch!”“Fenyl Harys said you

were really ugly,” Tarryncontinued.“Hesaidyouwerean ogre, and that you had a

moustacheandwarts.”“I shaved off the

moustachejustthismorning,”Sashaadmitted.“You did not!” Tarryn

laughed. “Are you really asgood a fighter as KesslighCronenverdt?”“WhosaidIwas?”“Jaryd,” said Tarryn. “He

saidyouwerethebestfighterhe'd ever seen.” Sasha raisedan eyebrow at Jaryd, whoshrugged.

“But Jaryd's never seenKessligh fight,” Sasha toldTarryn. “Not really.Kessligh'sbetterthanme,butI'm close.” Close…well, thatwasmaybestretchingthingsabit, but she wasn't about tothrow away her goodreputationentirely.Sasha sat on the bed and

talkedwith Jaryd andTarrynfor a while. Jaryd seemedpleased of the company andSasha wondered if he'd had

anyothervisitors,besideshisguardsmen. Tarryn and theGreatLordofNyvarweretheonly members of Jaryd'simmediatefamilypresentlyinBaen-Tar, Sasha hadgathered, but for Rathynalthere were cousins, uncles,aunts,niecesandfamilyalliesaplenty. Tyree was aprominentprovinceandJarydwas possibly just a fewmonths from the greatlordship. There should have

beenaqueueofwell-wishers,friends and assortedsycophants crowding aboutthe bed. Instead, the broadflagstone floor remainedsparseandempty.The hour bell rang to ten

from thecourtyardandJarydfirmly informed Tarryn thathe'dbestattendtohisstudies.“Iwishoursistersweremorelike you,” Tarryn told Sashaas he reluctantly got up toleave. “You're fun. They're

neverfun.”“I'm sure your sisters are

wonderful,” Sasha saiddiplomatically, but crawledon the bed to give him a bigkiss on the cheek anyway.Tarryn squirmed, andgrinned, and ran off to hislessonswith awave. “He's adarling!” Sasha exclaimedoncehe'dleft.“Ladies have been known

to think so of all themen inmy family,” Jaryd said

mildly.Sasha grinned and leaped

across to sit beside himpropped on the remainingpillows.“Evenwithyourarmin a sling, you'll still have atry,willyou?”“AtruemanofTyreenever

rests.”“Someone would catch

us,”shesuggested.“Notifwewerefast.”“Areyoualways?”Jaryd grinned. “Not

always,M'Lady.”Sasha laughed. “I'm not

‘M'Lady’,I'mSasha.”“Sasha,” said Jaryd,

thoughtfully.“Were you not offered

chambers in the palace?”Sasha asked. “It's customaryeven for soldiers to takeadjoining chambers at thepalace when their familiesvisit. For important nobility,anyhow.”“My place is with my

men,”Jarydsaidflatly.“Idoubtyourfatherwould

agree,”Sashaventured.Jaryd snorted. “My father

doubts I can make anadequate Great Lord ofTyree.Hegavemecommandof theFalconGuardso that Imight learn better. Well, I'mcertainly learning. I'mlearningagreatmanythings.”“Suchas?”“Who my friends are,”

Jarydsaidangrily.“Thereare

men my own age, whom Igrew up with and learned tosparandridewith,allhereforRathynal and yet they'vebarely even said hello. Theyhave no honour, any ofthem.”Sasha took a deep breath.

“Jaryd…I admire yourconviction, but…isn't it alittle foolhardy to be pickingafightwithyourownfather?And with all the assortednobility of Tyree? You're

goingtorulethesepeopleoneday, you'll need theirsupport…”“When I rule,” Jaryd said

stubbornly, “I'll rule in myown way, according to thevalues I've learned. Maybethey'lllearntolikeit—itcan'tbegoodhavingnohonour inyour life. Besides, you'drather I lied, and said you'dkilledthatbastardReynan?”“Icantakecareofmyself,”

Sashasaidshortly.

“In a fair fight, I've nodoubt,” Jaryd agreed. “Butyou saw Pyter Pelyn on thelagand field. These peopledon't fight fair, M'Lady…Imean Sasha. That's what itmeans to have no honour.When I'm Great Lord, that'sthefirstthingI'llteachthem.”It was nearing midday

when she emerged fromJaryd'schambers.Shehadnotwalked ten strides around acornerwhen aman in a pale

green, lordly shirt emergedfrom a doorway ahead, asword swinging at his hip.Clearly a nobleman. Sheglancedoverhershoulderandfoundanothermanofsimilarappearance walking behindher.Damn.More men emerged from

the open doorway the firstmanhadcomefrom.Onewastall with a gaunt, bony faceand silver hair. He wore acloak of red and gold—pure

vanity,Sashathought,fortheair was not cool. That manhad five companions allnobly attired, with swords attheirsides.Sasha stopped, her heart

beatingfaster.Herrighthandflexed, unconsciouslyrehearsing the fast reach tothe hilt above her leftshoulder. “Lord Kumaryn,”she said, attemptingpleasantry. “Have you beenwaiting here for me all this

time?” Some spy must haveseen her heading to Jaryd'schambers. The FalconGuardmay have liked Jaryd, butthey remained a company ofTyree and there were boundtobe somespies reporting tothelords.ButKumaryncamehimself?“Did you have a pleasant

meeting with your newlover?” Kumaryn asked. Hisvoice was hoarse and reedy.Hisblueeyeswerehardwith

malice. There were greatlordsinLenayinwhomSashadid not like, yet could nothelp but respect. Kumarynwas not one of them. Themanwaspettyandvain.Sasha smiled. “You'd like

to think so, wouldn't you?ScaredI'llwedhimandraiseheirsofTyreeasNasi-Keth?”Kumaryn scowled. “You'd

never dare! The lords ofTyree would never stand forit!” He thought I was being

serious, Sasha realised indisbelief.“Jaryd Nyvar would be

foolish to do so, my Lord,”said a smooth voice atKumaryn's side. “With thisone, he'd have to alwayswonder if thechildwas trulyhis. I hear she's had half themen inBaerlyn,andsomeofthewomentoo.”The speakerwas amanof

short stature.Hehadperhapsthirty summers,with a round

face and short hair. TheVerenthanestarhangingfromhisneckwastwicethesizeofhiscompatriots.That,plushisnorthern accent, made Sashafairlycertainofhisorigin.“Please, Master Stranger,”

she said reasonably, “it'simpolite to insult someonewithout first offering yourname. How else will I knowwhomIkill?”“Ifyouwishtochallenge,”

the northerner said with a

smile, “then you maychallenge Yuan MartynAnsyn. I andmy sword shallbewaitingforyou.”“Martyn Ansyn.” Sasha's

eyes narrowed. “HerydAnsyn'sbrother,yes?”“Theveryone.”FamilyAnsynwereFamily

Telgar's oldest allies inHadryn. There was muchshared blood between them,and Lord Heryd was said tohavebeentheoldGreatLord

Telgar'sclosestfriend.“So the lords of Hadryn

and Valhanan lock arms atlast,” said Sasha, surveyingthe group before her. Therewere two men behind her—seven in all, includingKumaryn and Martyn. MoreHadryn than Valhanan, tojudge from the cut of theirhair and the prominence ofVerenthanesymbols.Andtoomany, even for her. “Whatmessage do you have forme

that it takes seven of youhiding outside the door likecommoncutthroats todeliverit?”“A reminder,” Kumaryn

said coldly. “There aremoreofusthanofyou.”Sasha laughed. “My Great

Lord,you'velearnedtocount!Your wet nurse will be soproud!”“It's not our ability with

numbers that was inquestion,” Yuan Martyn

repliedbeforeKumaryncouldbristlehisoutrage.“Youdon'thave your pagan rabble todefendyouhere.”“You threaten like a

coward,” Sasha retorted, hertemperslipping.“Ifyouwerebrave, you'd challenge. Myfamily won't take kindly tomy murder beneath theirprotection.”“Ohaye,”Martynsaidwith

acoolsmile,“PrinceKoenygloves you well, I hear. The

king has not called you‘daughter’ for twelve years.The king no longer favoursyour pagan ways, nor yourdevil friends from Saalshen.YouhavefewenoughfriendsinBaen-Tar,girl.”“I'mgoingtogoandhavea

pleasant lunch with mysister,” Sasha saidimpatiently. “For the lasttime, say what you will andbegone.”“The trial of Lord

Krayliss,” said LordKumaryn.“Itwillbesoon.”Sasha rolled her eyes.

“Youknow, the last timewemet,youweretryingtoarrestme for something you knewdamn well I didn't do. Wasthiswhatthatwasabout?Youwere trying to keepme fromLord Krayliss's trial and,since that didn't work, younowresorttothreats?”“The king wants Lord

Krayliss dead,” Kumaryn

continued, his bony cheeksreddening. “Prince Koenygwants him dead. Every saneman and woman in Lenayinsees him for the rabble-rousing troublemaker he is,and…”“All the nobility, you

mean,” Sasha interrupted.“The only sane men andwomen in Lenayin.”Mockingly. “What'll you doonce he's gone? Have theking appoint some friendly

Verenthane lord to the greatlordship?”“Such would be a great

boon to the people ofTaneryn,”Martynsaidsoftly.“Didyouaskthem?”Sasha

retorted. “I'm no friend ofLord Krayliss, but I'll notdeny him a fair trial to helpyou fulfil your grand visionof a holy, VerenthaneLenayinwithnotapaganlordin sight. You forget who thepeople of Lenayin truly are,

so little you see of them inyour Verenthane cities andcastles. Best that youremember soon, or one daythey'll walk into your citiesand castles all together andremindyou.”Kumaryn's nostrils flared.

“Nowwhowouldbemakingthethreats,girl?”“Not a threat, Lord

Kumaryn,”Sashasaidcoldly.“Just seeing if you truly cancount after all. They look so

littlefromyourcastletowers,don't they? All thecommonfolk? And so few.Like all the little streams inthe hills after awinter's rain.It's only when you see themreach the valley bottom andcometogetherthatyourealisewhatafloodlookslike.”“Thelittlepretendprincess

thinkstheGoeren-yaiallloveher,” Yuan Martyn saidsoftly. His manner was alllight-tongued menace, beside

Kumaryn's blunt bluster.Sasha had no doubts whichmanwas themoredangerousofthetwo.ThiswasPrincessWyna's man, and PrincessWyna shared not onlyKoenyg's attention, but alsohis bed. Lord Kumaryn hadno such advantage. “Thereare thousands of Goeren-yaisoldiers camped before thewalls for Rathynal. I hearthey could barely agree onwhere to pitch their tents.

Upslopewasmorefortuitous,I hear, and downslopepotentially an ill omen. Itnearlycametoblows.Sucharabble could no more uniteagainst the true lords ofLenayin than they unitedagainst the CherrovanEmpire. It took a lowlandsVerenthane to save Lenayinfromitsdisgrace.Thereisnosuch hero to ride to yourrescuethistime,littlepretendprincess.”

“And it took a lowlandsNasi-Kethtocomeandrescuethe Verenthanes when theCherrovancamebackseventyyears later,” Sasha retorted.Yuan Martyn's eyes flashedwith anger. “Whygo to suchlengths to remove LordKrayliss? If you're sounconcerned about theGoeren-yai?”Yuan Martyn smiled.

“SomeonemustsaveLenayinfromherself.Thegods’work

is never easy, but it isrewarding. The gods aremerciful, but their wrath isharsh upon all who wouldobstruct the righteous path.Remember, little pretendprincess.Neverforget.”

Sasha was almost surprisedwhen the Verenthane RoyalGuardsmen atKoenyg's doorletherinwithbarelyaquery.

Koenyg's chambers werelarge,withamain roomhereand a dining room beyond,half-hidden behind curtaindrapes.Memorieshitherwitha rush, hard and unwelcome.These had been Krystoff'schambers. They'd seemedlighter then, somehow. Thesun had always been shiningthrough the far windows, inthose memories, andgleaming golden upon thedining table. Now, the stone

walls seemed darker, moreforeboding.She passed the curtain

drapes and found Koenygseated with ArchbishopDalrynat thenearendof thelongdiningtable,eachwithadrinkinhand.Bothmenroseupon her entry. “Sister,”Koenygsaidblandly.“Whatalovely surprise. What canI…?”“Did you send yourwife's

Hadryn lapdog after me?”

Sashademandedangrily.“Ordidshesendhimherself?”Koenyg gazed at her for a

long moment, the flexing ofhisfreehandtheonlysignofa reaction. “Youshould referto your brother's wife aseither Princess Wyna, orsister,” said ArchbishopDalryn into that silence.“Your own title is no longer‘princess’, and suchinformalityisunbecoming.”“Was I talking to you?”

Sasha snapped at the holiestVerenthane in Lenayin. Thearchbishopreddened.Hewas,in Sasha's opinion, an utterlyunremarkableman.He had alongish face, with a pointyjaw,abloatednoseandlooseskinsaggingfromhischeeks.His hair was dark streakedwith grey, and curly—anunusual trait in Lenayin. Itwas usually hidden beneathhis tall archbishop's hat,which now sat upon the

diningtable.Nowitstuckupin fuzzy curls. Like an oldfeatherduster,Sashathought.“Whathappened?”Koenyg

asked simply, sipping hiswine. Or Sasha assumed itwas wine, the archbishop'stasteswerewellknown.“MartynAnsyntoldmenot

to support Lord Kraylisscomehistrial,orI'dsufferforit. When is Lord Krayliss'strial anyway, Koenyg? Haveyou decided? Or does it

depend entirely on what Iplantosayinhisdefence?”“Your brother should be

addressedasPrinceKoenyg,”the archbishop persisted, “orasbrother.Fromyourmouthinparticular,suchinformalityis…”“From my mouth in

particular?” Sasha leaned ona chairback, and glared athim. “And how would youlike me to address you,Dalryn? As the rural folk of

Lenayin do? The HolyBrewery, perhaps? TheListing Bishop? Father RedNose?”“Youdare say such things

inthisplace!”thearchbishopfumed. His horrified starefixedonKoenyg,butKoenygonlywatched,wearily.“In this place more than

any other!” Sasha retorted.“This is my brother, in thechambers that once belongedtomydearestfriend,andI've

farmoreclaimtothesanctityof this place than you everwill. If you don't like it, getlost.”“Sasha, this is my invited

guest.” Very little everpenetratedKoenyg'srock-likecalm. He seemed no morealarmed by his sister'soutburst than he might havebeenbyasmall,yappingdogabout his ankles. “You arenot.”“Didyousend that thug to

try and scare me?” Sashayelled at him. Koenyg washeir to the throne andrenowned throughoutLenayinforcold,emotionlesscalculation. But he was stillher brother, and Damon'sbrother, and Sofy's. Shemight not have expected anybetter of his actions towardherself,butifhewascapableof this toward her, then hecould do it to her othersiblingsjustaseasily.

“You should apologise toHis Holiness,” Koenygcontinued. “He is rightlyunaccustomed to suchindignities. He is also thespiritual leader of all theVerenthane faith in Lenayin.Thatincludesyou.”Oh, and there it was.

Koenygtheplotter.Daredshedeclare her true allegiances?Kessligh had warned heroften enough that if she did,assorted northerners, nobles,

bishops and fanatics woulddemandherhead.Sasha glared at him.

Koenygmethergazecalmly.AfacemuchunlikeKrystoff's—solid, where Krystoff hadbeen lean; trimmed andpresentable, where Krystoffhad often been wild.Occupyingchambersthathadonce been Krystoff's. Theyshould still be his, Sashathought bitterly. They wouldstill be his, had not Krystoff

offended so many of thosesame northerners, nobles,bishopsandfanatics.Krystoffhadfoughtthem,butKoenygsatathisprivatedining tableandhaddrinkswiththem.Would you wield the axe

yourself, brother, shewonderedbitterly.If thetimecame to dispose of me, liketheyoncedisposedofhim?“Did you send Martyn

Ansyn to try and scareme?”shedemandedoncemore.

“First, apologise to HisHoliness.”Sasha glared. “I'll do

nothingofthesort.”Koenyg shrugged. “Then

we have nothing to talkabout.”To Sasha's right, the

curtains to Koenyg'sbedchambers were abruptlypulled back and there stoodPrincess Wyna. She worewhite,thecoloursofnorthernmourning, her light hair

pulledbackseverelyfromherface.Shewaspretty,perhaps,in the way that a simplesculpturemightbepretty,orapainting.Thebeautyofform,with high cheekbones andpale green eyes. But therewas no beauty ofwarmth, orhappiness.“My children are saying

their midday prayers,” sheinformed them coldly.“Whatever this business ofyours,itshouldnotbesoloud

to disturb the mourningrituals beneath a woman'sownroof.”“Myapologies,mysweet,”

saidKoenyg.“Idotrytokeepa civil tone at all times. Mysister is challenged in thisregard.”Wyna's pale eyes fixed on

Sasha. Weeks it now wassinceLordRashydTelgarhaddied,andstillWynamournedforherfather.“Sister,” Wyna said to

Sasha coolly. “How do youfare?”“Well enough today,”

Sasha said darkly. “It'stomorrowthatconcernsme.”“Tomorrow concerns us

all,” saidWyna. She walkedprimly to her husband's side,her white dress swishing. “Icould not help but overhearthrough the curtain. Has myloyal servant Yuan Martynbeen causing you someconcern,dearsister?”

“Yuan Martyn has beencausing the king's justicesomeconcern,”Sashareplied.Wyna slipped her hand

around Koenyg's elbow.“You seem very concernedfor justice toward thatmindless barbarian,” saidWyna with a slight frown.“Pray tell me, where is thejustice for my dear departedfatherwhomhemurdered?”Sasha's eyes narrowed.

You did send him, you ice-

cold bitch. Wyna's gaze wasashardasglass.“Iftheking'sjustice does not extend to allLenayin,” Sasha replied,“eventomindlessbarbarians,thenwhatpossibleuseisthatjusticeatall?”“Mama?” came a boy's

voicefromthecurtains.Sashalooked,andsawfour-year-oldDanyLenayinstandinginthedoorway by the drawncurtain. “I said my prayers,Mama.”

“Of course you did,” saidKoenyg, walking to the boywitharmsoutstretched.Danywent to him and Koenygscooped up his son, holdinghim effortlessly seated in thecrookofonearm.“Dany,sayhello to your AuntieSashandra.”Dany had already said

hellotohisAuntieSashandrauponherfirstarrivalinBaen-Tar,butheturnedandlookedanyway. He was a pale boy,

withdarkhair likehisfather,but the features were mostlyhis mother's. Somethingabout the pallid complexion,and the thin set of his lips,remindedSashaabruptlyof…Usyn, she realised. The boylooked like his Uncle Usyn.Gods and spirits forfend thatheactuallygrewuptobelikeUsyn.“I saw you playing lagand

yesterday,” said Dany. Hiseyesandvoiceweretoocalm

foraboyhisage.“And I saw you in the

stands,”Sashareplied.“Youplayverywell,”said

Dany. “Not as well as mypapa,though.”Sasha's lips twitched. “On

the contrary, I thought Iplayed somewhat better thanyourpapa.”Dany looked at his father.

“She's not very ladylike, isshe,Papa?Norverypolite.”“Auntie Sashandra was

veryclose toyour lateUncleKrystoff,” Koenyg explainedto his son. “She's verymuchlikeUncleKrystoffwas.”“UncleKrystoffwasavery

strange man, wasn't he,Papa?”“Noone trulyknowswhat

Uncle Krystoff was, Dany,”said Koenyg. There was adarkness in his eyes as theymet with his sister's. An oldanger, never entirelyquenched. “He remains a

mysterytomany,eventothisday. Some say he was nottrulyaVerenthane.”“If he was not a

Verenthane, Papa, then whatwashe?”Sasha stared at the boy. It

scared her that he could soinnocently ask such aquestion.Whatindeed?Whatwas a Lenay, if not aVerenthane?Itwasalmostasthough thewild, ancient halfof traditional Lenayin had

been erased from thesepeople'smemoryentirely.A memory struck her—

leaping onto Krystoff's bedone morning to wake him.He'd wrestled her over,kicking and squealing, andtried to bite her on the neck.Andoverthere,bytheornatewooden cabinets of glassesand plates, he'd shown herhow a wondrous serrininvention—a looking glass—could burn a hole in an old

piece of cloth when the sunfellthroughtheopenwindowjust right. And back in thefrontroom,he'dcarriedherincircles on his back,responding toher tugsonhisears, or her heels on histhighs, as ahorsewould to arider'sreinsorstirrups.Once,she'd made a mistake, toldhim to go when she meantstop, and he'd careenedstraight into thewall. They'dfallen to the floor together,

laughing.Now, Koenyg and his

Hadrynwife slept inhisbed,and entertained by his table,and hung gaudy pictures ofVerenthane saints on hiswalls.Andithither,suddenly—the great, terrible injusticeof it all. If he'd lived, shemight not have becomewhatshe was today. But if he'dlived…well, there would notburn this endless pain in herheart,thatburnedallthemore

terribly every time she seteyesuponKoenyg.“He may not have been a

Verenthane,” Sasha toldKoenyg,coldly.“Hemaynothave been always polite, andhemaynothavebeenalwayssensible. But he was mybrother.Godsknowwhatyouare.”She turned and strode out,

leaving the stone and theirmemoriesinherwake.

The foul mood stayed withher all the way down to theGreat Hall, along gloomyhallwaysandflagstonefloors.Memories of Krystoff. Herfather, Koenyg, Kessligh,Damon, Sofy, herself…theyall remembered a differentKrystoff,aKrystoffshapedasmuch by their own personalneeds and desires as by anytruthful recollection. She'd

needed Krystoff for hersoulmate. Her father hadneeded an heir. Koenyg, acompetitor to overcome.Kessligh,anuma.ToDamon,he'd been yet anotheroverbearing elder brother tomeasure up to. Perhaps onlySofy could claim anyobjectivity where Krystoffwas concerned. Sofy, whowasthemostobjectivepersononmostthings,itseemed.So how did Sofy do it?

Perhaps, itoccurred toher, itwas because Sofy was notselfish. Sofy did not harbourany great ambitions forherself and did not imposeher self-importance uponothers.People saw what they

wanted to see, Kesslighalways said. They saw theworld in terms that wouldpaint themselves in the bestpossible light and excuse alltheir flaws, preferably by

blaming them on someoneelse. The Nasi-Keth taughtmen and women not to beperfect, but merely to knowthemselvesandtoknowtheirown wants and desires.Knowingthat,apersonmightbegintounderstandhisorherown prejudices andassumptions, and act againstthem. Kessligh had neverclaimed to be perfect, hemerely claimed to make aneffort. So what about me,

Sasha wondered. What do Iwant? Was she so self-centred that she'd never beable to see the truth? Howcould she ever know anyonearoundher ifshewasn'tevensure of herself? Hells, shedidn't even know if she wasVerenthane, Goeren-yai orNasi-Keth. Her own brotherhadchallengedhertodeclareherself, and she didn't knowwhat to say. Even after theduelatHalleryn, she stilldid

notknow.Sheknewwhatherheartsaid.But, inher life, toberuledentirelybyherheartwouldbesuicide.The day did not improve.

Afterlunch,shedidwhatsheusually did when her moodwas foul and visited thestables. Horses, she'ddiscovered, spoke a quiet,foreign language of postureand emotion. After a whileimmersedinit,shefoundhervery human concerns

beginning to fade. This visit,however, she discovered thatPeg's right hind hoof wasdeveloping a crack about ahorseshoe nail, and the shoewouldneedreplacing.The blacksmith's shop

occupied a large, coveredarea to the stable's rear,facingdirectlyontotheinsideof the looming city wall.There were severalblacksmiths, infact,andtheywere clearly busy, their

furnaces roaring, hammersclanging and new, glowingred horseshoes and nailsbeing added to respectivepiles. Many horses occupiedthe hay-strewn floor, someworked upon by their riders,others waiting their turn.Sasha found Peg a spot at awater trough, found sometoolsandwenttowork.Peg hated blacksmiths and

holdinghishugelegstillwasnoeasything.Thenailscame

out with difficulty. The heatfrom the fires was intense,andthedaywaswarming,soshe removed her bandoleerand sword, then the jacketand long-sleeved outershirt.The short-sleeved undershirtwastoolooseatthewaistandhung out when she bent, soshegatheredthehemintotwotight fistfulsand tied themina knot beneath herbreastbone, leaving hermidriffbare.

She was starting on thethird nail when she heardfemale voices coming alongthe row of horses, raisedabove the clamour ofhammers. Baen-Tar ladiescame to the stables oftenenough to admire the horses.Thereweremalevoicestoo—of course, she thought dryly,a true lady would require anescort. Peg tried tomove hisleg once more and shegrippeditfirmlybetweenher

knees.“A littlepatience,please?”

she asked him loudly,repositioning the nail. Pegsnorted.“Oh, look at that big

black!” she heard then fromthe approaching ladies. “Isn'thegorgeous!”Great, that was all she

needed.Shegotthenailheadin and started hammering.The hammer was heavy, butgave no real trouble to a

swordfighter—as always, itwas a question of rhythm,balance and timing. Nosooner had the nail gone allthe way in than there was afemale voice directly behindher,comingfromPeg'sfront.“Excuseme?Rider?Could

you tellme thishorse'snameandhisowner?”Sasha sighed, dropped the

hoofandhammer,andturnedto face them. “His name'sPeglyrion,” she said shortly.

“I'mhisowner.”The young ladies before

her gasped in shock. Theywore dresses of the Torovanfashion, one predominantcolour with embroideredtrimmings offset with anopposing-coloured sash tiedatthewaist.Someworetheirhair done up with curls andcombs, others straight andlongdowntheirbacks.Therewere five immediatelypresent,andoneinparticular,

inaredgownwithgreensashand silver jewellery, wasstaring at her withcontemptuousdisbelief.“You!” exclaimedAlythia.

The sisters locked stares.“Good lords, Sashandra, youreally have no shame at all,doyou?Lookatyou!You'redressedlikea…likea…”“Like a woman trying to

shoe her horse?” Sashaoffered.“Likeadisgrace!Haveyou

no respect for localsensibilities?”“None,”Sashasaidbluntly.

“Now, are you just going tostand there and hurl insults,or can I get back to myhorse?”One of the ladies

murmured something to hercompanions, who giggled.They eyed Sasha's bare,sweaty arms and hardstomach with scandaliseddisbelief.

Alythia'sdarkeyesblazed.“Have you any idea of thenumber of people you'vemanaged to offend?” sheexclaimed. “To say nothingof Father, disgracing hisname in this…this appallingfashion…”“Father is both man and

king enough to speak forhimself,” Sasha said darkly,“he does not need you to dohis complaining for him.”Sometimes Alythia worked

her temper to boiling. Buttoday, somehow, she justcouldn't be bothered. It wasall too predictable, tootiresomeandfar,fartoosilly.“Alythia, I'm really notinterested. Enjoy your littleday'souting,trynottostepinanythingfoul…”She was about to turn her

back when a new figureappeared, escorting anotherlady. The man wore a darkjacket with bright silver

embroidery, and pants thatpuffedoutatthethighsbeforetapering to tight, slendercalves and boots. He wore aslim sword at the hipwith afancysilverhandguard,andawide-brimmed hat upon hishead…withafeatherinit,noless. His goatee was neatlytrimmed, and dark curls fellabout his neck.Several othermen in similar dressfollowed, each escortinganotherlady.

Bacosh, Sasha realised.Irritation at her prissy sisterquicklyvanished.“Ah,”saidtheman,seeing

Sasha. “This must be theLady Sashandra. PrincessAlythia,wouldyoumindeverso much for a formalintroduction? I have heard…so many things…about yoursister.” The accent was verysmooth and melodious, andever so charming. The darkeyes, however, felt…cold.

Thesmile,Sashathought,didnot touch those eyes. Anolderman, perhaps nearer tofifty than forty, thoughwell-hidden beneath makeup andhairdye.“Certainly,DukeStefhan,”

Alythia said primly.“Sashandra, this is DukeStefhan of the LarosaprovinceoftheBacosh.DukeStefhan, Sashandra Lenayin,mysister.”The duke stepped past the

water trough and reached forSasha'shand.Sashaseriouslyconsidered withholding it.But that was needlessprovocation. They were onlyformalities.Sheextendedherhandandrepressedashudderas thedukegrasped it lightlyand placed it to his lips. Hisgrip lingered, unpleasantly.Possessively.“M'Lady Sashandra,” said

the duke. “Your fameprecedes you. Even in my

nation,wehaveheardtalesofyourexploits.”“Inmynationtoo,wehave

heard tales of yours,” Sashasaidcoldly.The duke smiled. “They

say that you fight like theserrinladies.Ifanyserrincantruly be said to resemble alady.” With a flashing smileat the ladies present, wholaughedobligingly.“After your armies are

through with them,” Sasha

replied, “I doubt they couldbe said to resembleanything.”That provoked the first

responsefromtheduke'seyesyet—a slight wideningbeneath the hat's brim. Aflash of recognition. “Howtrue,” he replied. Slyly,almost mockingly. “But donot feel too sorry for them,myLady.Theyhavenosouls,you know.” And he loweredhis voice, with a glance

behind, as if concernedsomeone back there wouldoverhear. “That is why theytry to steal our souls, youknow.Theylacktheirown.”It took every measure of

Sasha's fragile restraint tokeep her from smashing hissmug, arrogant facewith herfist. He knew which Larosaexploits she referred to. Hefound it amusing. Torture,rapeandmassslaughter.Andher father and Koenyg

wantedLenayintogotowar,and fight for men like this,against the serrin? Even inretaliation,theserrinhadonlyeverkilledsoldiersand thosewhocommandedthem.Allofthose soldiers, it was true…but then who could blamethem?“Have a care, Duke

Stefhan,” Sasha said quietly.“Youmust still return home,through Goeren-yai lands.Many Goeren-yai think

highly of the serrin. AndsomeLenayVerenthanesalsoaccuse the Goeren-yai oflackingsouls…Perhaps,wereyou to see what they do tomenwhoattack their friends,you might understand why.”Andshesmiled,dangerously.“Perhaps you shall. Shouldsomeone who knows yourroutesendwordtothem.”The duke's smile

disappeared completely. Andhe nodded, warily. “So. It is

true what they say, of yourloyaltiesandtempersboth.”“You're yet to see my

temper, Duke Stefhan. Praythat this should remain thecase.”“Sasha?” came a new,

familiar voice. Sasha lookedandsawSofynowcomeintoview, escorted on the arm ofoneoftheLarosamen.Sashastared, disbelievingly. Sofy'sreturn stare was accusatory.Sofy would not need the

present situationexplained toher—she could read bodylanguagelikeabook.“Sasha,whatareyoudoing?”Sasha gestured her

forward, sharply. Sofyabandoned her companion'sarm with a gracious apologyand made her way betweenthe drinking troughs, DukeStefhanextendingacourteoushand to help her through.Sasha tookSofy'sarmwithadangerous glare at the duke

and dragged her away to thesmithy'swall.“What are you doing with

thesebastards?”shehissedather sister, above thecontinuing clang of hammeron metal. The heat from thefireswas intense. “These arethe Larosa, Sofy! I've toldyouaboutthem!”“Sasha,justoncecouldyou

meet some new peoplewithout starting a fight?”Sofy shook her arm clear of

Sasha's grasp, indignantly.“Duke Stefhan is anintelligent and cultured man,ifyou'donlygivehima…”“The man's a murdering

villain, like all the Larosarulingclasses!”“Howdoyouknow?”Sofy

snapped. “You've only justmettheman!”“You don't carewhat they

do to the serrin, is that it?”Staring at Sofy angrily. Sofywassupposedtobetoosmart

for this. She couldn't believethatfancyclothesandafunnyaccent were all it took todancepasthersister'susuallyexcellent judgment. “Youdon't care about the nightraiding parties across theSaalshen–Bacosh border,about the abductions andmassacres…”“Oh,howdareyou?”Sofy

was really angry now. “HowdareyousaythatIdon'tcare?Of course I care, Sasha, but

don't you see? You simplycannot continue to just tareveryone with one brush, Imean, theLarosa can'tall belike that! There's so muchculture inLarosa,Sasha, andthe other Bacoshprovinces…”“So what?” Sasha fumed.

“There's a lot of culture inCherrovan too, and a lot ofit's wonderful, but I'll bedamned if I'm going towalkarm-in-arm with a Blood

TribeWarlord!”“Not everything's a

conflict, Sasha!” Sofy waspleading now. “You're soused to fighting, your wholelife. You fought father, andyou foughtyourmindersandthe holy scholars, and thenyou foughtwithAlythia, andthen Kessligh and Krystofftaught you swordwork, andthen after Krystoff died youfought against theCherrovan…” She grasped

Sasha's arms, lightly. “Youhave to stop judging people,Sasha! You did it withDamon, and you do it stillwithfatherandKoenyg…andifyoukeepondoingit,you'llfindnothingbutconflictyourentirelife!”“And you have to stop

assuming that everyone isgentle and kind until provenotherwise,” Sasha retorted.“You're a good-naturedperson,Sofy,andevilpeople

will take advantageof that ifyou let them. I've seen therealworld.I'velivedouttherein it, and I've seen whatpeople do to each other. Ifyou truly believe that goodtailors and a knowledge ofartworkcan excuse amanofcrimes that heinous, thenyou'rejustanotherpampered,ignorantlittlepalacegirl.”Sofy stared at her, eyes

wide. And swallowed hard,fightingbackemotion.“Well,

that's mature,” she huffed.“Whensomeonedoesn'tagreewith you, just call themnames, as if that solvesanything. And you'resupposed to be older thanme.” She turned to sweepawaywithhernoseintheair,pausing briefly to giveSasha's person a disdainfullook. “And seriously,Sasha…putsomethingdecenton. Even the tolerance ofBaen-TarVerenthaneshas its

limits,youknow.”Sasha watched her leave,

broodingly. Alythia gaveSashaa smug lookandput acomforting hand on Sofy'sshoulder,welcomingherbackinto the fold as they movedoff. Duke Stefhan bowed,mockingly, and followed.Sasha looked about withhands on hips, searching forsomethingshecouldthrow.Across by the nearest

furnace, a Goeren-yai

blacksmith dipped a red-hothorseshoe into a bucket ofwater,whichhissed.Hisarmswere huge, rippling withmuscle beneath entwiningtattoos. He looked at Sasha,beneathlong,tangled,sweatyhair. And looked her up anddown,lingeringly.“Don't worry, lassie,” he

said. “Those clothes lookplenty fine by me.” Andwinked at her, cheerfully.Sashagavehimareproachful

look. The blacksmithchortled, withdrew hishorseshoe, and resumedhammering. Sasha sighed inexasperation…Goeren-yaimen were such idiots,sometimes. Rude, cheerful,irreverent, fearless idiots.And she nearly laughed.Spirits, how she loved them.She stretched, wincingly, fortheman'sbenefit.Hegrinned,still hammering, evidentlywith only one eye on his

work.Sasha walked to stroke

Peg's nose, an apology fortakingsolong.“ThisiswhyIlike horses,” she told himtiredly,feedinghimapieceoffruit from her pocket.“Relationships are so simple,so uncomplicated.” Pegseemedfarmoreinterestedinthe snack than herconversation.“Imean,Iknowyoudon'tlikeme.”Peg snorted, and thrust his

noseintoherhands,searchingformorefood.Nudgedatherpockets, breathing great,horse-smelling breaths allover her. Sasha smiled, andhuggedhim.

ITWAS COLD IN THE LIBRARY.Sasha sat onher stoolbeforethe wide, wood desk, andwrapped herself more tightlywith her cloak. The lamp onthetableflickeredawanlightuponthepagebeforeheranda coal brazier gave somewarmth to her back. Across

the surrounding benches,several figures sat hunched,likewise with braziers andlamps—all men, somescribblingonparchmentwithaquilltip.At either end of the vast

floor, shelves lay dark andgloomy, groaning beneaththeir weight of parchment.Books were more troublethan they were worth, she'doften thought in her youth.Only living with Kessligh,

scrolling through ancientserrin writings during longevenings before a cracklinglog fire, had she discoveredtheirwonders.“Itwasafemalewhocame

before the court, and sheworeaswordatherbacklikea man, and did move andspeakwith the authority of aman.Hereyeswereademonblue, and all her soldiersworeamostungodlyaspect.”Beforeherlaythewritings

of a Torovan archivist whohad lived in theLarosa courttwocenturiesbefore.Herelayan eyewitness account of theLarosa court following thedisappearance of KingLeyvaan'sBacosharmyinthehills and forests of Saalshen,and the subsequentoccupation of the threeBacoshprovincesnowknownastheSaalshenBacoshbytheserrin.“Thedemonsaidhername

was Maldereld, and that byher hand and others wereKing Leyvaan and his entireforce of twenty thousandslain. Lord Sharis wasenraged, and would havestruckthedemondownwhereshestood.”Why he did not, the text

did not say. Perhaps it hadsomethingtodowithmostoftheLarosaarmyhavingbeenkilledwithLeyvaantheFool,Sasha thought sourly. Larosa

had been defenceless, atSaalshen's mercy. Why theserrin had only occupied thethree closest of the nineBacoshprovinces,shedidnotknow. They could havespread further and made anempire.But then,maybe thatwas human thinking. Theserrin had little interest inempires. The SaalshenBacosh now made a wall,behind which Saalshen hadbeen protected for two

centuriessince.Echoing footsteps made

her turn,witha reachforhersword hung across thechairback.Ashadowedfigurewith one arm in a slingemerged from the doorway,and paused, scanning theroom. Sasha straightened,pushingbackherhoodsothatthe lamp lit her face…thefigure looked her way, thencame quickly over betweenthetables.

Closer, the face resolveditself as Jaryd's, hisexpressionurgent. “M'Lady,”he whispered, “please comequickly. I ride on PrinceDamon'sbusiness.”“Ride?” Sasha frowned…

Jaryddidappeartobedressedforriding.“Ridewhere?”“Please come, I'll explain

on the way.” And he leanedcloser to whisper in her ear.“It concerns the Udalyn,M'Lady.”

Sasha stared at him. Thenshe got up and blew out herlamp. She followed Jarydbetween the tables, ignoringthecloaked,hoodedstaresofmenattheirtables.Outsideinthecoldnight,it

was only a shortwalk to thestables.Torchesgavetheroada dim, patchy light, with theodd, passing shadow ofanotherwalker.“M'Lady,” said Jaryd, “I

looked all over! Why were

younot at theRathynal feastwitheveryoneelse?”“To avoid ‘everyone

else’,” Sasha said shortly.“They'dhavemademewearadress,foronething.”Jaryd gave her a bemused

look. “Would that be soterrible?”“Would you wear one?”

Sasharetorted.Jarydblinked.“There you are. Should youevenbewalkingaround?”“It'smy arm that's broken,

M'Lady, not my leg,” Jarydsaid testily. “I dislike sittingstill.”“Ifeltthesame,once.Then

Idiscoveredbooks.”Jarydmadea face.“Books

are no friends of mine.Princess Sofy was missingyou,” he added. “She fearsyou'reavoidingher.”That hurt. Sasha gazed at

the lighted windows of astreetsidebuilding,bitingherlip.ShesawsolittleofSofy.

But…“I'm not avoiding her,I'mavoidinghernewfriends.I don't want to kill any ofthem.Or rather, I think I dowant to kill some of them.ButnotinfrontofSofy.”“You havemy sympathies

there,” Jaryd said darkly.“Thatlotneedagoodbelting.Buttheladieslovethem.”“It's difficult enough to

defend your gender, most ofthe time,” Sasha told himwryly. “I'll not even try to

defend mine. What's yoururgency?”“There is a rumour of

refugees,”saidJarydinalowvoice,with a cautiousglanceaboutthegloomystreet.Sasha stared at him.

“Refugees from the valley?Howhaswordcome?”“We don't know, M'Lady.

We think they were seenupon the road. It seems amessengerwassenttoPrinceKoenygat speedandnowhe

has deployedmen of RanashandBannerydupontheBaen-Tarperimeterthisnight.”“And now he sends loyal

Verenthanesouttointercept,”Sasha muttered. “You said‘we.’IsDamon…?”“PrinceDamonhasquietly

asked some of the FalconGuard, M'Lady,” Jarydmurmured. “We feel wemightfindtherefugeesfirstiftheyarrivetonight,yetPrinceDamon is required at the

feast, and the usual routesthrough which one mightmove a person undetectedinto the city are watched byPrinceKoenyg'sspies…”“Damon intends to

smuggle a Udalyn into thecity?” Damon, underminingKoenyg's authority beneathhis very nose? She wasamazed.“Towhatpurpose?”“M'Lady, Prince Damon

wonders if the king is awareof all that transpires. He

says…he says that while theking is in agreement withthesepolicies inprinciple,hedoes not follow theirimplementationindetail.“Prince Koenyg has done

this before, M'Lady…twoyears ago, you might recallthat a Goeren-yai village inYethulyn fell beneath thethrall of a headman whoproclaimedhimselfpossessedbyagreatspiritanddeclaredhis village an independent

kingdom.”“Father sent Koenyg, and

Koenyghadtheleaderskilledand the entire village burnedtotheground,”Sashareplied.“And the king, Prince

Damon says, was mostdispleased to learn of PrinceKoenyg's methods,” Jarydadded.“Hesaidtheexecutionwas just, but to punish theentire village wasunnecessary. He sent goldand dispatched tradesmen to

helpintherebuilding.”“AndDamon thinks father

isnotawarethatKoenygmaybe encouraging a HadrynattackontheUdalyn?”“M'Lady, the king spends

much of his days in temple.He prays and he reads fromthe holy texts.His directionsare broad, Prince Damonsays, yet he trusts PrinceKoenyg to implement thedetailofthoseorders.”Sasha nodded, thinking

hard. The road wound aboutthe armoury and the traininghall now. On the right, thegreat city wall loomed darkand bleak in the night. “Heshould know,” Sashamuttered. “Howcouldhenotknow?”“Prince Damon feels that

perhaps if the king werepresentedwitharefugeefromthe Udalyn, an eyewitnesswho might sway the king'scompassion…” Jaryd took a

deepbreath.Sasha gave him a hard

look. “And why are youdoingthis?Youdon'tneedtohelp.Spirits,you'reinenoughtroublealready.”“Trouble frightens me no

more than it frightens you,”Jaryd said stubbornly. Sashashook her head in faintdisbelief.InLenayin,Goeren-yaimenweren'ttheonlyoneswithrocksforheads.

At the base of the Baen-Tarcliff,SashaandJarydheadedleft and broke free into thepaddocksandlowstonewallsof the rolling Baen-Tarfarmlands. Many men wereawake, she saw as they rodebetween the tents, rough-shaven and sleepy by theflickering light of torches.Here, a small cluster ofmentalkedbeforeanofficer'stent.

There, apair of soldiersheldsix horses saddled and readyin case of sudden need.Sentries stood watch alongthe road, yet Jaryd took thefore, letting the front of hiscloak fall open to reveal thefull uniform of the FalconGuard and mail armourbeneath. Spirits knew howlong it'd taken him to dragthat on, considering his arm.Nomanchallengedthem.Butsomething, it seemed, had

arousedthesoldiers.Sasha took the first

available right-hand turn,attemptingtogainsomesenseof the placement of units.Here in the midslope, thesoldiers seemed mostly fromYethulyn and Fydenprovinces. Nearer to thetown, it had been Valhanan.Now, as they rode awindingfarmtraildownslope,thetentsappeared largely of southernIsfayen.Jarydpointedfurther

downslope still, where acluster of tents sat lonelywithin an isolated field,flankedbyseveral largetreesand neighbouring cottages.Thecampwas alivewith thelightoffires.“I see Lord Krayliss is

awake,” Jaryd said.“Doubtlessgnashinghisteethover not being invited to theRathynalfeast.”“Aye,”Sasha saidwearily.

“Another chance to make

troublemissed.Thetragedyisthat he and Usyn deservedeach other. It should havebeen him and Usyn in thatcircle before the walls,winner takes all. Instead,we've only dragged theproblem down here to infectBaen-Tar and leave theUdalynundefended.”Jarydtookatorchfromhis

saddle webbing, and theyboth pausedwhile he gave itone-handed to Sasha to light

with a metal flint. The nightseemedalltoosilent,hereonthe lower slopes, away fromthe noise of men and horsesin camp. Ahead, there wasrough land and forest. Not aplace to ride at night if onecouldavoidit.At the bottom of the hill,

the forest surrounded them.Sashaheldthetorchhighandthe light danced upon thetrees, casting crazy shadowsacross the undergrowth.

Once, Sasha fancied she sawa gleam of eyes from abranch—an owl,most likely.The trail climbed and fellacross rocky folds, yet Jarydseemed sure of the way.When the trail divided, hetook the less-travelled route,bushesthrashingagainsttheirhorses’legs.Then, ahead, there came a

new light through the trees.Two, in fact. Jaryd saw, andreined to a halt. Peg fretted,

ears flicking in the cold asriders approached. Sashacounted five horses…and asmaller pony, trailing behindon a halter. Jaryd called in atongue Sasha did notrecogniseand receiveda likereply. And then, in thebrightening light of threetorches, she could see thegreen of Tyree beneath theriders’cloaks.“MyLord,”greetedarider.

Beneath the hood, Sasha

recognised Sergeant Garys.Hepeeredwithin theshadowof her own hood…and hiseyes widened a little. Garyshalf-bowed in the saddle.“M'Lady Sashandra. TwoUdalyn, M'Lady. One ofJurellyn's scoutshas escortedthem this farbut turnedbackas soon as he handed themover.SaidhehadtogetbacktoJurellyn.”OnlythendidSashaseethe

small cloaked figure astride

thesaddleofanotherman,hisshapelostagainstthesoldier'sbulk and shadow. A youngface peered from within thehood, fearful. Now sheunderstood where the ponyhadcomefrom.“Damn,” she muttered,

nudging Peg alongsideSergeant Garys. She handedhim both rein and torch, andclimbed down, giving Peg areassuring strokeon thenoselestheyankthesergeantfrom

his saddle. Then she walkedbriskly to the other soldier'ssideandthrewbackherhood.Shereacheduptoputahandonthechild'sarm.Aboy,shesaw, looking exhausted anddirtybesides the fear.Butheseemedtoknowhowtositonasaddle. Ifhe'dcomeall thewayfromtheUdalynValley,hemust surely know. “Lad,”she said gently. “Friend. Donot be frightened. These aregood men. Where are you

from?”The fear remained in the

boy's eyes. Andincomprehension. “Doesn'tseem to speakmuchLenay,”the soldier said with aconcerned frown, lookingdownattheboyonhislap.“Edu,” Sasha muttered.

“Of course.” She gave thesurrounding soldiers a wryglance. “I don't supposeanyone here speaks anyEdu?” The men exchanged

looks.“Ithoughtnot.”Edu, the tongue of the

Udalyn. So accustomed hadshebecometothenotionthatmost Lenays would speak atleast a little Lenay. But thatwas a recent event, since thecoming of King Soros.Lenayinhadbeena landofathousand valleys and, it wassaid, a thousand tongues.King Soros had brought thewarring clans togetherbeneath the Verenthane

banner…but not the Udalyn.A century of isolation. Andnow the boy spoke nolanguage anyone here couldspeak. One look into hiswide, frightened eyes andSasha realised that she wasgazing into the youthful faceofantiquity.“Damn it,” she said to

herself, trying to think.“Tullamayne wrote in Edu,yetallweknowistranslation.Theremustbesomething…”

From another horse, therecameaplaintive,wailingcry.TwoUdalyn,Garyshad said.Sasha ran to the other horseandfoundinthatrider'slapayoung girl, of no more thansix or seven. She looked justas bedraggled, weary anddirty as the boy…and now,utterly exhausted andterrified, amidst armouredstrangers who did not speakher tongue, she waspanicking. The soldier upon

whose saddle she rode, aburlyGoeren-yaiwithathickbeard, tried to restrain herthrashing. The wails grewlouder.“Oh, here, here!” Sasha

said,reachinguptothegirlastheridergaveevidentthoughtto clasping a gloved handover her mouth—there werenorthernridersoutinthedarkaswell.Thegirllookeddownthrough her sobs and sawSasha. She held out both

arms, instinctively. Sashapulled her from the saddleand held her, as the girlclutched to her and sobbeduponhercloak.“Rysha!” the boy now

called out, alarmed. “Rysha,elmat ulyn Rysha!” Hestruggledclearofhissoldier'sarms, leaped to the groundwith considerable agility andrantoher.Sashaputthelittlegirl down and the boygrabbed her, and hugged her

close. There was adesperation in that embrace.A closeness in the way thegirl enfolded herself to him.A blaze of protective temperin the boy's eyes, a warninglook.“Oh, I see,” Sasha said

quietly. She squatted beforethem with effortless balance.And she extended a carefulfinger, pointing to the boy.“Brother?” she said slowly,eyebrows raised. Shifted the

fingertothegirl.“Sister?”The boy frowned at her,

warily. Then nodded.“Sister,” he said, with heavyaccent.“Rysha?” Sasha asked. “Is

that her name? Rysha?”Anothernod.“That's aprettyname.”Withnohope thatheunderstood. But it wasimportant to keep talking.Silence, with children, wasnever friendly. “Howold areyou?Years?Summers?”

Incomprehension. MostLenay tongues shared manywords.Often,whenmeetinganonspeaker,onecouldsimplylist relevant words untilfindingone thatworked.Notthis time, it seemed. Shepointed to herself, thenflashed ten fingers, twice.Then pointed to him,questioningly. Realisation,this time. He pointed tohimself and flashed tenfingers, once. And to his

sister,thensevenfingers.“Andwhat isyourname?”

Sasha asked him. Pointed tohissister.“Rysha,and…?”“Daryd,”saidtheboy,with

more than a hint of pride.“DarydYuvenar.”“Greetings, Daryd

Yuvenar,” Sasha said with asmile. “My name isSashandraLenayin.”Apauseas he seemed to recognisethat, frowning. “PrincessSashandra Lenayin,” Sasha

added, carefully. Only toowell aware of the men whosurrounded, watching andlistening.Daryd's frown became a

wide-eyed stare.Comprehension at surely theonlyhumanwomanhe'devermet whowore her hair shortwithatri-braidanddressedinpants with a blade at herback. “Synnich-ahn!” heexclaimed. “Tel edan ylSynnich-ahn!”

Dearspirits,notthatagain.Sasha put a hand firmly onhis shoulder. Even littleRyshawasstaringathernow,teary but wide-eyed. Therewas a yellow flower in herhair of a kind Sasha hadnever seen before, nowtattered and half-dead.“DarydYuvenar.Udalyn?”Daryd nodded vigorously.

“Udalyn. Ren adlyn father!King Torvaal! Vyl heryt aisonshylTorvaal!”Pointing to

his own two eyes,desperately.Sashaletoutahardbreath.

That was obvious enough.“Aye,” she said, noddingsoftly. “I think we canarrange that.” She gave theboy's shoulder a squeeze.“Brave kids. All this way toplead with the king. Youcould have stoppedanywhere, but you didn't.”Didn't trust anyone, shesupposed. A century of

isolation might do that. Andtheyhadbeenescorted,Garyshadsaid,byoneofJurellyn'sscouts; Jurellyn, who hadblazedthetrailfortheFalconGuard upon the road toTaneryn.Damonhadlefthimbehind to watch Usyn'smovements andnowJurellynthought the situationdesperate enough to sendthese two straight for theking.She heaved herself to her

feet. “Well,” she said tiredlyto the surrounding men, “Idon't speak anyEdu to get astory from these two. Butthereisonewhomight.”

The floor of Lord Krayliss'stentwasspreadwithdeerskin,alternately soft and coarse asSasha shifted her weightwhere she sat. Lord Kraylisssatonabundleofrolledskins

at the end of his bed, a hardfist supporting his beardedchin. Before him sat Darydand Rysha, eating hot soupand bread before the centraltent pole that was impaleddeep into the earth. SeveralseniorTanerynmensataboutthe tent, all rumpled longhair, tattoos and rings, intraditional stitched leathersand weave. For all Sasha'sdiscomfort,itdidoccurtoherthat the scene might be

straight from centuries past,whenrulerscalledthemselveschieftains instead of lords,andtheancientwaysweretheways of all Lenayin. OnlyJaryd, seated uncomfortablyatherside,spoiledthescene'sancientpurity.Krayliss attempted

questions of the children asthey ate. Both were clearlyfrightenedof thebig, bearishman, but thewarmth of bothtent and food appeared to

calm them considerably.Both, however, continued tocastanxiousglancesatSasha,towhichshewouldsmileandnod encouragement, whilsttrying to follow the brokensnatchesofconversation.None of the Taneryn men

spoke Eduwith any fluency,yetthetwodominanttonguesof Taneryn were Dyal andTaasti, and both had manywords in common with theold Udalyn tongue. Krayliss,

to Sasha's moderateamazement, remained bothpatient and calm. WhenDaryd (who did most of thetalking) did not understand,Krayliss simply invited hisfellow yuans to try. Whatevolved was a three, andsometimes even four or five,tonguedconversation,asmenattempted variouscombinations, guesses, orevenbitsofCherrovan,toaskquestions or interpret

puzzling replies. All theTaneryn men gazed at thechildren with evidentfascination, and addressedthemselves to the linguistictaskwithasmuchenthusiasmas Sasha had ever seen abunch of hard-headedGoeren-yai warriors addressanything so intellectuallydemanding.Apitytherewerenoserrinpresent,shethought.Theywouldhavebeenutterlyintrigued.

Finally, Kraylissstraightened on his bundledseat, frowning heavily. Itsuitedhisfaceentirely.“Theyare from Ymoth,” he saidheavily. Sasha nodded,having gathered that muchalready. “Usyn's armiesattacked. Thousands of menonhorse, the boy says.Theyflew banners of the Hadrynclans. The spirits made surethese twowere foundbyoneof your brother's scouts,who

guided them here. That waseightdaysago.”“ThenUsyn'sarmyheaded

straight for Ymoth afterleavingHalleryn,”saidoneoftheyuans, darkly. “Nodoubthe planned this treacheryfromthebeginning.”“The Udalyn should never

have resettled Ymoth,”Krayliss rumbled. “It is notfar from the valley mouth,amidst fertile lands.Surely itmusthavetemptedthem.But

the word of protection fromsuccessive Verenthane kingshas lulled their instincts forsurvival. Ymoth is tooexposed, and the Udalyn toofew in strength andweaponsto defend it from Hadrynheavy cavalry. I fear theUdalyn have lost valuableforces defending Ymoth.Now, their defences will befewer. There is no time tolose.”“The Udalyn have strong

defences,” said Sasha.“Further up the valley, thesides are sheer. And thentherearethewalls.”“AndIsay,”saidKrayliss,

with a hardening tone, “thatthereisnotimetolose!”Sashamet his gaze firmly.

“I agree. We should take atleast one child to the king.WeneedtopersuadehimthattheHadrynmustbestopped.”“I have no faith in the

farsight and mercy of

Verenthane kings,” Kraylissmuttered.“Thefarsightandmercyof

Verenthane kings has beenthe only thing keeping theUdalynalivethepasthundredyears,”Sashareplied.Krayliss's eyes blazed.

“The Goeren-yai are notweaklings! We can defendour own!We need merely aleader. The spirits showprovidencethatweshouldallbegatheredtogetherso.”

Sashafeltherguttightenincold anticipation. Kraylissbelieved someone must leadthe Goeren-yai to save theUdalyn,ifthekingwouldnot.And, of course, he intendedthat person to be him. Thatwas what he gained byagreeing to leave HallerynandcometoBaen-Tartofacethe king's justice. Here, atRathynal,hewouldhaveafargreater audience. There werethousands of Goeren-yai

soldiers encamped herebeforethewallsofBaen-Tar.All Krayliss thought theyneeded was suitablemotivation.“The Udalyn have

defended themselves for acentury againstoverwhelming odds,” Sashasaidcoldly.“Thereshouldbeno rush into a crisis becausewe were too impatient tomake a proper appeal to theking.”

“The king shall wait untilall are dead and the Udalynare no more,” Kraylissreplied,hisfistclenched.“Should you desire my

support, Lord Krayliss,”Sasha said icily, “then weshall do things my way.Otherwise,youshallnothaveit.”Krayliss glowered. “When

I need your help, girlie, I'lldamnwell…”“Am I the lady of the

Synnich or not?” Sasha saidsharply.About the tent, some men

made thespirit sign.Kraylissbithis tonguewithdifficulty.Daryd and Rysha satwatching with wide eyes.Sasha saw that they claspedhands. “M'Lady,” said oneman, seriously, and withdeference. “What action doyousuggest?”Krayliss's scowl grew

deeper. “The king,” Sasha

told the man, coolly. “He isour best chance. Any othercourse would risk tearingLenayinapart.Weshouldnotlose faith in our Verenthanebrothers.Master Jaryd riskedmuch to find these twochildren, as did many of theFalcon Guard's Verenthanesoldiers. Should we ride tosavetheUdalyn,Verenthanesshould ride with us. Lenayinmust remainwhole.Shouldapurely Goeren-yai army

attack the Verenthane north,all Verenthanes shall riseagainst it and all shall belost.”“And should the king not

see reason?” Krayliss saiddarkly. “What then wouldM'Lady of the Synnichintend?”Sasha exhaled a long

breath,hergazesettlinguponthe two dirty, frightenedchildren before her. “Let ushope,” she said quietly, “that

itdoesnotcometothat.”

ONE OF KRAYLISS'S MEN

ARRIVED the nextmorning asSashawent about giving Pega groom andwash.With theTaneryn man was littleDaryd.“Best you take him now,

M'Lady,”saidtheman,aleanGoeren-yai with his hair in

many braids, but with nospirit-mask.He seemed edgyas he pushed aside the stallgate, casting a final glanceeachwayup thehall. “We'rebeingwatched.The laddrewno special mention throughthe gates, we said he wasM'Lord's nephew, but surelysomeone would notice thatwe don't talk to him, or thathedoesn'tlisten.”“Aye,” Sasha said, placing

ahandontheboy'sshoulder.

“We'lljusthopenoonewantstoquestiontheferalprincess.It would be a first, in Baen-Tar.”The Taneryn man gave a

wry smile and departed.There was to be a formalwelcome to the provinces atSoros Square that morning,withRathynal proper to startthe next day. Thingshappened slowly in Lenayin,where great meetings wereconcerned.Aholdover,Sasha

had heard it said, from thetimes when Rathynals hadtaken weeks simply becauseofallthemultipletranslationsthat were required for thediscussions.Sasha took the faintly

bewildered, anxious boy tothe back of the stable, fromwhere she withdrew a clothpackage from the strawbeneath Peg's drinkingtrough. She unwrapped thebundle,torevealgoodclothes

ofaboutthecorrectsizeforaten-year-old lad. PerhapsKoenyg had been right toreduce access to Goeren-yaiservants and staff.Thesehadbeen delivered by one ofSofy's staff, and only toowilling to help, when Sashahad asked. Whether Sofyherself knew, Sasha did notknow.“Here,”shesaid,layingout

the clothes. Daryd, however,was staring up at Peg with

disbelief and wonder. TheUdalyn,ofcourse,wouldridetraditional dussieh, withperhaps only a handful oflowlands breeds. And, evenfora lowlandswarhorse,Pegwasenormous.“Big,” Daryd said, greatly

impressed. So that was oneword in common with Edu.Orperhapshe'dlearneditjustnowfromtheTaneryn.“Very big,” Sasha agreed.

“HisnameisPeg.”Andwhen

thatdrewconfusion,“Sasha,”pointing at herself. “Daryd,”pointingathim.“Peg.”Daryd's eyes widened.

“Peg?” he asked.“Peglyrion?”Sasha blinked at him,

surprised…until she realisedthatthat,too,wasmostlikelya northern tale in origin.She'd named Peg for thenorthern star that formed theswordhiltintheconstellationofHyathontheWarrior.That

was an old legend, farpredatingevenTullamayne—Hyathon had named hisswordPeglyrion,forthechildstolen from him by the darkspirits.“Peglyrion,” Sasha

murmured. “Son ofHyathon.” As if hearing hisname mentioned, Peg liftedhisgreatblacknose fromhistrough, and stretched towardDaryd…Sasha put a hand ontheboy'sshoulder,butDaryd

did not flinch. Extended hishandforPegtosniff.Peg,ofcourse, was fine withchildren. In his experience,children meant treats. AndDaryd,whohad surelyneverseen an animal even halfPeg's size before, wasremarkablybrave.“Peglyrion,” Daryd

breathed, as Peg snuffledcuriouslyathisfingers.Sasharuffledtheboy'shair.“We've a little time yet,”

she said. “Dress first, thenyoucanhelpmegroomhim.”Sasha and Daryd attracted

littleattentionastheywalkedthe back lanes of Baen-Tar.Daryd stared up at the stonewalls around him as theywalked, his stride a littleawkward in his new, leatherboots. His new clothes fittedhimwellenoughandwithhislongish, light-brown hairbrushed into some kind oforder, he looked very much

the makings of a handsomeyoung man. He foundeverythingextremelystrange,thatmuchwasclear.Yetifhewas greatly frightened, it didnotshow,andhewalkedwiththe air of someone withimportantbusiness.Itwasthefirst that Sasha had seen ofthe vaunted Udalyn spirit.Shewasnotdisappointed.Theyarrivedattheendofa

lane and directly oppositeloomed the palace, three

storeys of grand, archingwindows, and intricatestonework. Sasha cautionedDaryd to remain in theshadow, while she peeredeachway about the corner…there was street traffic,mostly groundsmen ortradesmen, and the clatteringof a mule-drawn cart.Opposite and to the rightwere thegreat, roundedstepsleading up to the mainentrance.Furtherstill,onthis

side of the road, were theevengrander, square stepsoftheSaintAmbellionTemple.Sasha pulled up the hood

on her cloak—it was not acold day, with sunlightspilling between brokenclouds, but itwouldnot looktoo suspicious given thegustingwind.ShegesturedtoDaryd to leave his hooddown. He, after all, was notthe one who would berecognised. She then took a

deepbreath,graspedtheboy'shand and walked around thecorner.Ahead, several Royal

Guardsmen had stopped totalkinthemiddleoftheroad.Nonelookedatherortheboyas they passed. From ahead,outofsightbeyondwheretheroad bent about the greattemple onto Soros Square,there came the ringing oftrumpets and the echo ofdrums.Anaudiblecheerfrom

alargegathering.Therewereno nobles on the streetsbecause they were all at theceremonies.Itwaswell,then,that she did not look tooimportant…She ascended the great

temple stairs, scanning upfrom within her hood to seethe four guardsmen at theentrance, two halberds andtwo swords. Above,Ambellion's four great spirestowered against the fast-

moving clouds.Daryd nearlytripped on the stairs to seethat sight…and Sashasuffered a flash of memory,asalittlegirl,spinningonthesteps whilst staring upward,for that glorious vertigo ofmotion and dizziness…Thetallest structures in Lenayin,they were, pronouncingVerenthaneglorytothelandsformanyfoldsaround.The near guardsman was

Goeren-yai and she stopped

beforehim.“Iwishtoseetheking,”shesaidevenly.“Sorry, lad, there's no

admittanceoutsideofservice.You'll have to wait.” Sashapulled her hood back a littleandliftedhergazesothatthesoldiercouldseehismistake.He frowned…and blinked.Very few men of Baen-Tarknewher facebysight, therewere no portraits of heradorning the palace walls.But then, therewas only one

woman in Baen-Tar whodressed andwore her hair asshedid…“Daughter to father,” she

said firmly, “I must see theking.” The guardsmanblinked again. Sasha tookadvantage, grasping Daryd'shand and walking past. Thetemple's huge doors toweredoverhead, left partly open toadmit one at a time. Sashawent through, Darydfollowing behind, and

progressedstraightacross theatrium. Guards here stoodalert on the stone floor,many-coloured windowsspilling light upon vases ofblueralamaflowers.Flankingthemaindoorwayahead,twostatues loomed—SaintAmbellion on the right, inflowingrobeswithablessingpalm upraised, and KingSoros on the left, tall andarmoured,with aVerenthanestar emblazoned on the

pommelofhissword.Themaindoorswereopen

and the central aisle betweenpews stretched invitinglyahead. For a moment, Sashadared tobelieve that itmightindeedbethateasy.Thensheheard a rattling footstep as asoldiercame through thegapbehind. “M'Lady! M'Lady,stop!”From beneath the statues,

guards sprang to life,blocking thewaywith hands

on hilts. Others closed in onherside,andtheguardsfromoutside closed at her back.Sasha turned to face themanbehind, but that man lookedover her head. “Lieutenant,”he said. “Sashandra Lenayin,sheclaims.”Sasha turned again, this

timetakingDarydaboutwithher. The lieutenant stareddown at her, eyes narrowedbeneath his gleaming helm.Sasha pulled back her hood

andmet his gaze. “M'Lady,”saidthelieutenant.“Thekingisatprayer.”“Iknow,”saidSasha.“It is a serious thing to

disturb the king at prayer.”Thelieutenant'sfacewasfreeoftattoos,buthishairseemedtohavealittlelengthbeneaththe helm. A single gold ringhunginhisleftear.Herhopeflared. It was not a greatdisplaybyanymeans,butsheknew from experience that

one should never judge thedepthsofaman's feelingsbythe nature of his appearance.“Withwhatemergencywouldyou disturb the king's holycontemplation?”“This boy,” said Sasha,

placing her hand uponDaryd's shoulder. Thelieutenant's gaze dropped toregard Daryd. Daryd staredupwards, unflinchingly. Agood, common lad mightdrop his gaze, confronted by

a man of rank. Daryd's starewasdefiant.“HeisUdalyn.”The lieutenant's eyes

flashed back to Sasha's, withsharp alarm.She could sensethe disquiet her words hadcaused,inthestiffeningpoiseof the guardsmen. Breathingseemed to cease. “Udalyn,”saidthelieutenant.“A refugee,” said Sasha.

“From Ymoth. The Hadrynattacked it barely eight daysago. I would speak with my

father, Lieutenant. The boyrode without halt fromHadryn lands day and nightfor that purpose.He's earnedit.”“Lieutenant,” said one

man,inalow,alarmedvoice,“we should alert PrinceKoenyg.” The lieutenantstared at him, displeasure inhis eyes. Beyond him, Sashacaught a glimpse of a priestadvancingupthelongcentralaisle, to check on the

commotion. The lieutenantseemed unconvinced. Hestared back down at Daryd,convictions battling in hiseyes.“Daryd,” saidSasha to the

boy, urgently. “Speak,Daryd.” And gestured to hermouth.Darydspoke,proudly,in a high, clear voice.Complete sentences, preciseand formal. The high, stoneatrium echoed with foreignEdu vowels, unheard in this

place since its construction.Foramoment,Sasha fanciedthat the grim stone statue ofher great-grandfather Sorosmight have flinched forshame.The lieutenant squatted

oppositeDarydandstaredtheboy in the face. Darydcompleted his little speechandstaredback,eyesblazing.And the lieutenant, for thebriefestmoment, appeared tobattle against some powerful

emotion.“Go,” he said then to

Sasha. “The king's daughterhas privileges much unused.Makeitbrief.”“Butsir!”gaspedasoldier.

The lieutenant gave him asharp glare and rose. Sashafancied that his eyes were alittlemoist.“Brief, I say,” he snapped.

Sasha grabbed Daryd's handand edged quickly past. Thepriest approaching down the

aisle changed directions asshe marched by, hurrying tokeepup.“M'Lady Sashandra,” he

said, cool yet urgent at herrightshoulder,“thekingisinprivate chambers. Hismeditations are deep, he isnottobedisturbed.”“So stop me,” Sasha

retorted, striding fast, littleDaryd half-running to keepup.“M'Lady,”saidthepriestin

worried exasperation. Hisrobes were black and plain,and the top of his head wasshavedbald,wheretherestofhis hair was short andstraight. A large golden starbounced from a chain abouthis neck as he strode. Herefrained from touching her.Priests and women, Sashathought sourly. In herparticular case, the dislikewasmutual.The templeaislewas long.

Many wooden pews crossedthe floor beneath animpossibly high ceiling.Colouredwindowsrowed thewalls high above, themorning sun spearing low,angled rays across the stone.The light indeed seemedheavenly, and the temple airhushedandserene.Sashahadnot chosen the ways of theVerenthanes, yet even shecould feel the awedmagnificence in every silent

step across the floor. At herside, Daryd stared upwardand about in silentincredulity. He made thespirit sign repeatedly. Sashahopedthepriestdidnotsee.Ahead, an altar rose on a

broad stone platform withcarved railings. Above weredraped two vast curtains ofcrimsonwith gold trim uponwhich therewasembroideredthe great wooden staff ofSaint Ambellion that he had

usedtowalkfromTorovantoLenayin more than threecenturies before, and thenacross all of Lenayin,preachingtothosewhowouldlisten. Few indeed, it wouldhave been back then, inpagan, Cherrovan-ruledLenayin.It was only then that she

caught sight of a dark figurekneeling upon the raisedspacebehindthealtar,hiddenfrom the central aisle by a

lectern.Hekneltonacushionbeforeapedestal,uponwhichhung a Verenthane star on agold chain. Across the wallbehind was a huge woodenstar, inlaid with gold andsilver, and set into the verystoneofthewall.Sashastoppedasthepriest

scurried about the steps andwhispered reverently in thekneeling figure's ear. Thefigure wore a communionshroud on his head, like a

black, silken handkerchief,blocking out the physicalworld, so thathecould focusentirely upon the spiritual.Sasha felt herheart gallop ingathering alarm and dismay.She had not known that herfather wore the shroud atprayer. Such things were fortheespeciallydevout,andthepenitentandfallible.Torvaal rose, slowly,

removed the cloth from hishead,andgaveittothepriest.

Then he backed from thepedestal, head bowed, andstraightened,archinghisneckas if to stretch stiff muscles,gazing up at the huge, eight-pointedVerenthanestaruponthewallabove.“Daughter,” he said, and

his voice was clear in thehushed temple air, althoughhehadnotspokenloudly.Histone held no anger, onlycalm. That, at least, was arelief. “You have come to

me.”The priest gestured

urgently for Sasha toapproach. She did so,clutchingDaryd'shandassherounded the altar steps. Sherecalledblueblossomsbehindthe priest at the altar fromchildhood services. Nowtherewas theneckchainandstar. She wondered at thesignificance.“My Lord,” she addressed

her father, and sank to one

knee. Daryd did likewise,shooting her sideways lookstosee thathedid itproperly.Clutched in her own, shecouldfeelhishandtrembling.“Rise, daughter,” said

Torvaal. There was acalmness tohis tone thathadbeen absent on previousoccasions. He seemedalmost…content. Sasha'shopes rose dramatically.“How long has it been sinceyou last ventured into this

place?”“A long time, Father.”

Torvaalhadnotyetlookedather. He gazed insteadupward, his expressiondistant. His black beard, shesaw in profile, had beenrecently trimmed. “Twelveyears, I would think.Krystoff'sfuneral.”Her father drew in a long,

deep breath. Sashawonderedifshe'dsaid thewrong thing.“Yes,” Torvaal said quietly.

“Yes,thatwouldbethetime.The last time that Kessligh,too,washere.”“Aye, my Lord,” said

Sasha.“Itwouldbe.”“It is beautiful, is it not?”

Torvaal asked. “Suchtranquillity.”The priest, Sasha noted,

hadmelted away.Theywerealone in the great temple,herself and her father. AndDaryd, who understoodbarely a word. She had not

been in such a circumstancewithhimperhapsever,inherentire life. Suddenly, hermouth felt dry. “Verybeautiful,myLord.”Afaintsmileseemedtotug

at Torvaal's lips. “Suchmanners. Whenever one ofyour sisters comes to me insearchofsomegreatfavour,Ihear much the same tone.”Sasha blinked. It was almosthumour. Shewas astonished.“Whatwouldyouaskofme,

daughtermine?”“That you consider the

plightof thisboy,myLord.”Torvaal lookedat her for thefirst time.His eyes narrowedslightly, as if the sightsurprised him.Well, perhapsitdid.His gaze slipped down to

consider the boy. “He isUdalyn, my Lord,” saidSasha.Torvaalnodded. “Iknow,”

he said, with a faint

weariness. “Iheardyou fromthe entrance.Not for nothingdo I wear the shroud. Thegodsareinfallible,Sashandra.Yet the more I haveattempted communion withtheir light, the more Irecognise my own failings.Even with the shroud, Icannot find peace. The noiseof the world penetrates myears, and the silentenlightenment of heaveneludesmeyet.”

“Then you know thatYmoth has fallen, father!”Sashawasunabletokeeptheurgency from her voice.“Usyn Telgar leads thearmies ofHadryn against theUdalyn, against all theinstruction of Baen-Tar forthe past hundred years! Theboy's name is Daryd and hedoes not know whether hisparentsarealiveordead!Herode to Baen-Tar to pleadwith you for their lives,

Father, and the lives of hispeople!Will you order themsaved?”Torvaaltookadeepbreath.

Heturnedandgazedupatthegreat Verenthane star uponthe wall, gloved handsclasped behind his back.“Such decisions,” he saidthen,withheavyfinality,“arenolongerinmyhands.”Sasha stared, incredulous.

“Why? You are king! All ofLenayinanswerstoyou!”

Thekinggaveafaintshakeof his head. “Daughter, youdonotunderstand.”“Enlighten me.” Her

temper was slipping oncemore. She knew it wasmostunwise,yetshecouldnotstopit.“The gods have chosen,”

Torvaal said simply. “Thewisdom of the gods isinfinite. Once, I had thoughtthat the signs pointed towardSaalshen and the Nasi-Keth.

Now, I see that those werenotsigns,butmerelymyowndelusion. Now, I see clearlythatthesignspointtowardthegreat brotherhood ofVerenthane. It is the gods’will.”“It's your will!” Sasha

retorted, and took a deepbreath, gathering herself.“Father. Father, please.Kessligh always told me ofyour justice. You know thatthe Udalyn Valley is the

stitch that holds the tapestryof Lenayin together. If thatstitch is undone, the tapestryshall unravel entirely. Youknowthis!”“You are young,” said

Torvaal, with hard finality.“Krystoff was your brother,and your love for him wasstrong.Yousawhimthrougha child's eyes—you still do.You never saw the gods’intent, daughter. Youbelieved your own eyes, and

trusted your own judgment,never realising how it couldleadyousofarastray.“Krystoff was the king's

heir,justasIwasmyfather's.To be the heir is a sacredthing. Iwasanointedmyself,hereinthistemple,asachild.The archbishop blessed mewith the holy water before agatheringoflordsfromacrossLenayin.Inthat,myfatewasboundtothewillofthegods.My father's rulewas fair and

just, and the gods smiledupon him. When yourgrandfather died, I becameking. It was the gods’ will,Sashandra. Such isindisputable.“Yes, I ruled. I didwhat I

feltwasjust.Ididmybesttoplease the fates.” Torvaalreached with one black-gloved hand to the goldVerenthane star upon thepedestal.Therewasasadnessonhisface.“AndyetIfailed.

My heirwas taken fromme.Kessligh, Lenayin's saviourfromheaven,leftmyservice.And he took my daughter.Sorrows, the old texts say,always come in threes. Badomens too. The gods’judgment is irrevocable. Imustbowtoit.”He looked at Sasha. The

sadnessvanished,replacedbycoolformality,likeamask.“Iamguiltyofvanity,daughter.I had a great plan for

Lenayin. Yet great plans areforthegodsalone,andnow,Imust pay penance. Koenyghas shown great gifts ofcommand. The north favourshim and our lords andcaptains admire hisleadership. The gods intendfor Lenayin a new direction,Sashandra.Hadtheynot,theywould not have takenKrystoff from me. WithKoenyg at my right hand, Ishallfollowit.”

Sashastaredathim,mouthopen in disbelief. Suddenly,thetempleairseemedcold.Aflashofmemorystruckher…Krystoff's chambers, filledwith morning light from thewindows. He had promisedher a horse ride, and she'dburst in without knocking asthe servants had learned to,andsentahalf-nakedlady-in-waiting scurrying for thecovers. Krystoff, topless andmuscular, had leaped from

the bed and ushered her intothe adjoining room. Sasharecalled his replies to herconfusion, the winsome,faintly exasperated smile ather questions that told hershe'd stumbled onto somepeculiarlyadultthingandwasout of her depth. And sherecalled the gold Verenthanestaragainsthisbarechest.Andshestared,now,atthe

chain and star upon thepedestal. It had been his.

She'drarelyseenhimwearit.He'd always worn the littlebracelet of beads that she'dmade for him, in one of thefew craft lessons she'd everpaid attention to. And he'dalwayswornthestylisedbelt-knife that a visiting serrin, afriend of Kessligh's fromPetrodor, had once presentedhim with. But rarely theVerenthane star, except onformal occasions. Or,perhaps, when bedding

Verenthane maidens whoneeded convincing that thesin would not send themstraighttothefiresofLoth.Looking at her father,

Sashafeltanemotionbeyondher immediate shock, or hermore familiar anger. It waspity.Torvaalhadlostanheir.Hegrievedforthelossinthetermsofwhatithadcosthim,asafather,asaking,andasaservant of the gods. Herecalled Krystoff by this

symbol,andplaceditinsucha position of prominencewithin the greatest temple inLenayin.He prayed before itevery day, seeking penanceforperceivedsins.And yet, this symbol was

not Krystoff. Not truly. Notaccording to one who hadknown him as she had. Thestar, to Krystoff, had beenlike all the formal clothes hehad disliked wearing, or allthe painfully self-important

people he was obliged togreet, and be nice to, whilstmuttering rude things aboutthem when none save hisdelighted little sister couldhear. It was pomp andceremony, and badges ofoffice, all the things thatKrystoff had either despised,or found tiresome at best. IfonehadwishedamorefittingtributetoKrystoff,onemighthave inaugurated a lagandfestival in his name…or an

annual dance, where dashingyoungmenmight pursue thepretty, available girls with agleam in their eye. This staruponthepedestalwasmerelya father's projection of hisownbeliefsanddesires.Sasha'seyesprickled.Fora

father to grieve for his sonwassad.Forthatfathertodosowithoutevertrulyknowingwho his son had been wastragic.“And so Lenayin shall be

torn to pieces,” she saidtightly,“becausethekinghaslosthisnerve.”Adark fire lit inTorvaal's

eyes.Fearsome,inawaythatanother man's anger mightnot have affected her.Whether thatwasbecausehewas her king, or her father,she could not guess. “Thegods have entrusted in me agreat responsibility,daughter,”hesaidcoldly.“Asking I represent their will

upon this land. Your insultscauseme littlecare, for Iamhumble. Yet to insult thegods’willissacrilege.Ishallnotallow it, and ifyou thinkthegods’ justiceshallbelessfor oneofmyown flesh andblood, you shall be sadlymistaken.”From the far end of the

temple,therecamevoicesandthe approach of heavyfootsteps. Soldiers, Sashaknew without looking. Her

time had run out. Politenesshadnotworked.Pleadinghadnot. And her fury wasescapingitsbounds.“You hide behind your

godslikeacowardbehindhisshield,” Sasha snarled.Torvaal's eyes snappedwide,as if he'd been physicallystruck. “The responsibility isyours, father! You werechosen! You are the heir tothe legacy of great-grandfather Soros! You

cannot merely abdicate fromyour true beliefs when yourconviction fails and yourgrief grows too strong! Youfear committing a crimeagainst the gods, well I'llshowyouacrime—youknowthisiswrong,youknowwhattheoutcomeshallbe,andstillyoudonothing!”Torvaalseemedtotremble.

She'd never seen him soangry. For a moment, shethoughthemightstrikeher…

or try to.Thenhe turnedandstrode about the altar's farside to meet the guardsmenwho approached down theaisle. Sasha followed him,clutching Daryd, who wasstaring up at her, and at theapproaching soldiers, inincreasingalarm.“Takecustodyoftheboy,”

Torvaal told the first soldierwhoarrived.“Treathimwell.Take him to Prince Koenyg,andbediscreet.”

Thesoldierandhispartneradvanced,atleasttenmoreintheirwake.The seniorof thetwo was Goeren-yai. “Youstop right there or by theSynnich I'll make you regretit,” Sasha snarled. The manstopped, frozen in his tracks.His junior, althoughVerenthane by appearance,seemed greatly unnerved byhis senior's reaction and alsohalted, a hand on his swordhilt.

Torvaal rounded on her infury. “How dare you speakthat name in this place!” hedemanded, his voicetrembling.“Why?” Sasha demanded.

“It is a name known to fullyhalf of your people, andprobablymore!Your people,Father!Why are their namesandwordsunfitforspeechinthehallsofLenaypower?”“You presume to speak of

things aboutwhich you have

nocomprehension!”“Icomprehendthatyouare

the leader of your people! Icomprehend that theGoeren-yai desire leadership! Andwhat do you give them? Anarmy of Hadryn fanatics toslaughter their kin and laywaste to the most admired,most loved soul of theirancient beliefs! As well ripout their heart and stamp onit! You proclaim to be theleader of all the Lenay

people?Welllead!”“Neis, Sashandra!” It was

Daryd, tugging urgently onher arm. His eyes, pleadingup at her, were full of fear.“Neis!Neis!” Thatwordwascommon enough in thenorthern tongues. He hadwanted her to win her fatherover, not to declare war onhim.He turned tostareupatthe stunned, motionlesssoldiers. At the king,churningwith silent rage.He

ran toward the king, aguardsman quickly leapingbetween, but Daryd threwhimself onto his knees andpressed his forehead to thestones. He spoke no words,perhaps knowing by nowtheir futility. Therewas onlyhis one, last gesture. Totalobeisance.Totaldesperation.Torvaal edged the

guardsman aside and stareddown at the boy huddled athis feet. Emotions battled

within his dark eyes. Moreemotion than Sasha couldrecallseeingfromhiminherentirelife.Foramoment,shethoughthemightspeaktotheboy. Might kneel down andraise him to his feet, in akindlygesture.“Take him,” the king said

instead, quietly. “Be gentle.”The guardsman knelt andraisedDaryd to his feet. TheboyturnedtoSashabeforehecouldbeledaway.Sashasaw

tearsinhiseyes.“Rysha,” he begged her.

“Rysha.” Sasha nodded,helplessly. Her right handitched for the sword on hershoulder, but that would dono good here. She stoodwhere she was and watchedas a pair of guardsmenescorted the Udalyn lad upthe temple aisle, toward thedoors.“You,”Torvaalsaiddarkly

to Sasha, “are confined to

quarters.TheNasi-Kethshallbe without a representativethis firstdayofRathynal.Bethankfulthatyourpunishmentissolight.”Sasha regarded him coldly

for a moment. Then shebowed, lingeringly, withsomething less than politeintent. “My father's mercy isrenowned throughout theland,” she said icily. Shestalked off, a guardsmanjoining her on each arm.

“Don'tbother,”shetoldthem.“I'm quite sure I know theway.”

“What?” roared LordKrayliss.“You think tobringthis charge against me now,andcallitjustice!”He rose tohis feet, ahand

tothehiltofhissword.Aboutthecircleof lordsothersalsorose, officers and soldiers

interposing, sword hands atthe ready. At Damon's side,Myklasalsomadetorise,butDamonrestrainedhimwithahand,andgavehimawarninglook. Koenyg stood beforetheking's throne imposing inhis cloak of royal black.Behind, and up the length ofthe great hall, nobles andsoldiers from each ofLenayin's eleven provincesalsorose,smellingafight.“Lord Krayliss,” Koenyg

announced coldly, his voiceloud enough that all couldhear. “You were brought toBaen-Tar by Prince Damonontheunderstandingthatyouwere placing yourself withinthe protection of the king'slaw! Your violations of theking'slawareprofoundforallto see.You do not deny thatyou slewGreat LordRashydTelgar of Hadryn. The kingdeems it fit for you to bejudged before a council of

lords this Rathynal, as theking wishes the people ofLenayintoobservethejusticeof all Lenayin, and notmerelythejusticeofitsking.Doyouwish to object to theking's law, and would youalso reject its protectionsfrom the rightful revenge ofthenewGreatLordUsyn?”“Object?” Lord Krayliss

bellowed. “I agreed to bejudged by your Verenthanelaw on the condition of the

presence of SashandraLenayin! And now youwishtoconductthisjusticewithoutherpresence?”At Koenyg's back, King

Torvaal sat upon his throneand watched, his eyesimpassive.“The Lady Sashandra has

acted against the expresswishes of the king,” Koenygreplied, “and has consortedwith troublemakers. Sheforfeitsherrighttobepresent

atthefirstdayofRathynalasthe Nasi-Keth'srepresentative.”“Ohaye,howconvenient!”

Krayliss turned to confrontthecrowd,withanexpansive,theatrical gesture. “This iswhat we get to replace thegood Prince Krystoff! Neverwas there a law or anhonourable agreement thatthismancouldnotfindawayto sneak around like a filthy,cheatingcoward!”

Aroarofoutragefollowedandswordsaboutthecircleoflords were half drawn. Menyelled for the Lord ofTaneryn's head on the spot.Behind the Taneryn flag thathung above Krayliss's chair,ten of Krayliss's senior menplaced hands near theirswords, a wild-haired,disreputable corner of anotherwise impeccablygroomed gathering. Koenygraised both hands, unmoved.

The circle's fury, and that ofthe seated gathering behind,subsided.Krayliss's eyes gleamed

withtriumph.Hethoughthe'dwon, Damon reckoned.SubmitSashandratothetrial,andriskrevealingthetruthofherGoeren-yai sympathies…orwithholdher,thusbreakingher agreement. That was thedilemma he had presented tothe king and Koenyg. Now,he was the aggrieved lord,

having suffered a greatinjustice at the hands of theVerenthane king. His stagewasset.“Lookatyouall!”Krayliss

snarled at the furious menstanding about the circle.“Verenthane pets!Do any ofyou know the wishes of theGoeren-yaiofyourprovinces,the ones as whose lords youpompously style yourselves?Do any of you care to guesswhat shall happen to you

when they hear of thisoutrage?” He struttedforward, bristling with self-righteousrage.“Sobraveyoulook, surrounded by yourVerenthanecronies,andyourinbred, sister-buggeringunclesandcousins…”Lord Kumaryn of

Valhanangavea roarof rageanddrewhisswordclearwitha ring that echoed the clearlengthofthehall.“HOLD!” Koenyg yelled,

pullinghisownswordclear.Red-faced, Lord Kumaryn

glared at his prince, gulpingair like a stranded fish.“Highness!”heprotested. “Amancanonlytakesomuch!”“Amancantakeallofthis

and more if his princecommands it!” Koenygretorted.“Andheshall!”“How long will your

braverylast,LordKumaryn?”Lord Krayliss roared at him.“You think your honour in

tatters now? What of thehonour youhave stolen fromyour people?Will you be sodefiant when all thoseneglectedthousandsarriveonthe doorstep of your greatCryliss mansion, weaponsraised in anger, and demandrestitution for all the honourof which you have deprivedthem?”“The Goeren-yai do not

follow you!” Kumarynyelled, trembling with rage.

“All through the villages ofValhanan, they call you afool,andatroublemaker!”“And you think they will

follow you?” Kraylissretorted. “All the way toLarosa to murder serrinchildren while they sleep?And what's this?” Withfeigned disbelief, staringabout the circle of lords. “Icount only ten flags! Even apaganGoeren-yaihasenougheducation to know that there

are eleven provinces inLenayin!”Heputahandtohischest,

inmockdisbelief.“WherearetheHadryn?Where indeed, Iwonder! I'll tell you where!They're off murdering theUdalyn in their valley! JustlastnightIreceivedtwosmallUdalyn children into myrefuge! They had come fromYmoth, where the Hadrynhadpillagedandburned!AndhowisitthattheHadrynfeel

so emboldened, we allwonder,whentheVerenthanekingsofLenayinhavealwaysforbiddentheminthepast?“They struck a deal with

the king, didn't they?” Helevelled a hard finger atTorvaal's throne. “I see youhidingback there, littleking!Youcannothidebehindyourheir forever!You needed thenorth's support for yourlowlands war and so nowthey have free rein to

slaughter whomever theywant, don't they? LadySashandra brought a child toyou this morning to beg forthelivesoftheUdalyn,didn'tshe? And you were sooffended that anyone shoulddare to care enough for thelives of a bunch of shaggy-headed pagans that youbarred her in her room, andthought to spring this trialuponthelastremainingpaganlordinherabsence!”

“If you wish to makecomplaint against the king'srule,” Torvaal said heavilyfrom his throne, “then thereareformalwaysandmeansofdoingso.”“No longer!” Krayliss

thundered,withathrustofhisfinger. “The time of rule byVerenthanekingsisover!Nomore do we play by yourcorrupted and honourlessrules!IdeclareTanerynisnolongerwithintheKingdomof

Lenayin!Thelast,freecornerof Lenayin is free from theVerenthaneyokeonceandforall! I reject this Rathynal, Ireject this city, and I rejectyou,MasterTorvaal!MenofTaneryn, arise, we areleaving!And let it beknownthatanyGoeren-yaifromanyprovince who wishes to rideinhasteandsaveourbrotherUdalynfromannihilation,weshallwelcomeyouwithopenarms!”

And with that, LordKrayliss of Taneryn and hiscontingent of nobles andwarriors strode for the hall'scentralaisle,andmadeforthegreatdoorsattheend.“Let them leave!” Koenyg

called,standingstilluponthecentre of the vast eight-pointed star splayed in tileacross thehall's floor.Abovesoaredthegreatpalacedome,its ceiling alivewith amural—King Soros upon a white

steed, leading his army ofholywarriors to victory overthe Cherrovan. PaganCherrovan fleeing his holylight,whilepaganLenaysfallto one knee, in awe andgratitude. “They are but acrazed few from a dyingbreed.Letthemleave.”Damon stared at his

brother's cloaked back indisbelief.“Idon'tbelieveyoujust said that,” he muttered,sothatnonebutMyklascould

overhear.Myklas frowned.“It's true,

isn'tit?”“Alotofmenareabout to

die needlessly,” Damon saidquietly. He unclenched hisfist from the armrest of thechair with difficulty,watching the last of theTaneryn contingent file out,with contemptuous glares atthewatchingVerenthanes onall sides. “Sasha was right,brother.Damnher for a pain

intheneck,butshewasrightallalong.”

Sasha performed taka-danswith a naked blade until thelight had crawled acrossSofy'sbedandfellnowuponherown.With that andotherexercises had she occupiedherself all the morning,locked into Sofy's chambers.She heard the door being

unlatched and then Sofy'smaidAnyseappeared,amealtray in her hands. Anysepaused, startled, to see theconcludingstrokesofSasha'staka-dan. Sasha sheathed theblade in one smooth motionand the maid smilednervously, then hurried toplace the tray upon Sofy'swritingdeskbythewindows.TurningbacktoSasha,she

made a hurried curtsy,apparently wishing

permission to speak. Sashanodded.Anyse'sfreckledfacewas earnest. “M'Lady,” shesaidinalowvoicesothattheguardsbeyondthedoorcouldnot hear, “Princess Sofysendshergreetings.”Sasha frowned. “Is she

having fun with her Larosanfriends?”“She is concerned foryou,

M'Lady.She sendsword thatsheisseekingtoknowwheretheyoungboyisbeingheld.”

Anyse glanced furtivelytoward the doorway. “I wassent to give you a message.Lord Krayliss has caused acommotion at Rathynal. HeaccusedthekingofbetrayingtheUdalyn,andallbutissuedacalltoarms.Hestormedoutofthehallbeforehecouldberemoved and has returned tohis encampment upon thefields.”Sasha took a deep breath

and stared toward the

windows. She was notparticularly surprised. Eventswere set in motion.Opportunists would seek tocapitalise. Now, it had trulybegun.“Thankyou,”shesaidquietly.“Iamgladtoknow.”Anyse turned as if to go,

hesitating even as she did.Sashasawthe indecisionandgestured for the maid tospeak.“M'Lady…whatoftheUdalyn?” Anyse whispered,withgreatapprehension.

Sasha frowned. “WouldyoufollowLordKrayliss?”“No…no, M'Lady.” A

vehement shake of the head.“Not by choice. But…theUdalyn,M'Lady…”“I know,” Sasha said

darkly. “Something shall bedone,youcancountonit.ButLordKrayliss is not themantodoit.”“Aye,”Anyse replied, fear

battling with relief anduncertaintyinhereyes.“Aye,

M'Lady.” Another pausebefore she left. “Please besafe,” she offered, and fled.Sasha took a deep breath.Surely Koenyg knew Sofyhad Goeren-yai on her staff.Anyse amongst them. Surelyhe knewbetter than to try topersuade Sofy to have themreplaced.Andbetterstillthanto try and command it. Sofywasnotanenemyawisemanwould wish to make. ButSasha was equally sure that

Koenyg knew who theGoeren-yai staff were andwould have them watched.Any move she made now,after that visit, would surelybefraughtwithrisk.Yetwasthereanychoice?She sat down to eat her

meal, for her stomach wasrumblingat the smell.Belowthrough the windows, therewere children running in thecourtyard with squeals andcries as they played, leaping

and rolling upon the grass.Rysha,shethoughtassheatethe soup and tore off a pieceof bread. Daryd's last word,and last concern, as thesoldiers had led him away.RyshawasatKrayliss'scamp.She could not stay there—Krayliss's camp had justbecometheleastsafelocationin Baen-Tar. Sasha hadpromised Daryd his sisterwould be cared for. And,besides,sheneededtotalkto

Krayliss before any newcalamityoccurred.Completing her meal, she

stripped her bed of its sheetsand began knotting themtogether. The problem withBaen-Tar Verenthanes, shethought as she worked, wasthat they were all sounimaginative. A man orwoman born into such aworld had duties to perform,and formalities to follow.Theywould thinkandreason

astheydid.Andso,evennowthatshe

was a trained Nasi-Kethwarrior with a sword at herback, the good Verenthanesof Baen-Tar would assumethat any princess ordered byher father to remain inchambers would stay there.She was little seen in Baen-Tar these days after all, andtheguardsonlyknewtalesofher wildness from herchildhood. There were two

suchguardsat thedoor,withno view of the window, andshe knew there would be noone in the courtyard below.She'd checked the momentshe'dbeenquarteredinSofy'schambers.

She ran much of the way tothe stables, darting throughback roads and laneswhereverpossible,slowingto

a walk when there werepeople about, for fear ofattracting attention. But thelineofsheetstrailingfromthewindow of Sofy's chambershad doubtless been seen bynow. She could only hopethat the speed with which amessagewouldreachKoenygwould not be as fast as shewas.The confusion of activity

on the first day of Rathynalabout the stables was a

blessing and she passedunnoticed in her long cloakamidstthestablehands,juniornobles and soldiers. Pegseemedpleasedtoseeherandoffered no complaint as shesaddled him in haste. Sherodeatcivilisedspeeduptheroadtowardthegates,passingyetmoreinboundtraffic.She announced herself to

the guards at the main gate,hood thrown back, andreceivedonly frowning looks

andagesturetoproceed.Low cloud scudded above

the hills as she rode towardthe Baen-Tar cliff, grey andominous, the farther, steeperhills shrouded in mist.Descendingthecut,shesawagathering of horse and menupon the eastern slope. Theywere barely dots on thepaddocks,butthereseemedapredominance of black totheir uniform—a colourfavoured by the northern

provincesinbattle.“Damn,” she muttered to

herself, as a chill seized herheart. She hadmoved as fastasshecould,butKoenyghadbeenfaster.She urged Peg into a fast

trot down the rock-pavedincline.Thentheywereatthebottom, and she kicked withherheels,pullingPegoff theroad and onto the grass,where he accelerated into ajoyfulgallop.

She headed for a roadwhich cut between walledpaddocks toward the nearesttents. Peg saw her intention,and she let him choose hisown angle of approach,hurdlingadrainageditchandthenthunderingontotheearthroad between paddocks. Shetook the bends between lowstone walls at speed, coldwindstinginghereyesasshetried topeeraheadandguessthe best route between walls

and encampments of tents,men, horses and carts.Upslope and around, shereckoned,goingthelongwayabout.She leapt a fence as the

road turned, racing across apaddock,sheepscatteringinabounding, woolly sea as sheturned downhill, headed forthe camp's outer edges.Leaping several walls, shethen jumped a gate to rejoinanother road. Peg wove

through several more bends,cutting corners that flashedby with a speed that fewhorses could have hoped tomatch. And then they werecomingontothelowerslopes,wherethepaddocksfellawaymore sharply toward theforestbelow.Sasha turned right along a

narrowtrail,wonderingifanyof the encamped soldierswould take note of the bigblack horse, and alert

others…butshecouldnotseeany men about the nearesttents. Peg cantered as fast asthewindingtrailwouldallow,past a rickety farmer's shackandapairofwork-wornmentending plowed rows ofvegetables…and there,againstthewood-walledtownhouses ahead, was theTaneryn encampment,isolated in its field.A lineofriders inblackemerged fromthe town's streets ahead.

Banners whipped on thewind, too distant yet for hertosee,butitwasobvioushertimewasshort.The trail straightened

enough for her to get a goodrun at the next wall. Pegsailedover,andthenitwasamad gallop across thepaddocks, clearing severalmore walls and scatteringlivestock, before jumping afinalwall and landingon theroadsheandJarydhadridden

the other night. It forkedwheresherecalledandthenitlay before her, the Taneryntents on the slope, theTanerynbanner flyingatopatent pole, cart horses grazingand tethered near their carts.Upslope, a dark line hadformed.Mountedsoldiersandbanners—aredsworduponablack background. Ranash,Hadryn's northern neighbour.Anopposinglinewasmovingto confront them, a ragged

assemblyofTanerynmenandhorses.The gate leading onto the

paddock's lower slope wasopen,andSashaswervedPegthrough it, racing uphilltoward a large vertyn treebelow the encampment. Shehauled Peg to a halt,dismounted and threw hisreins over a broken branchstump—therewasnotimefora full tether, but also littlechance that Peg would

wander anywhere except tofind her. She removed hercloak, stuffed it into onesaddlebag and ran for thenearesttents.A Taneryn man came

running across to intercepther—aguardfacingthelowerslope, watching for anambush from behind. It wasunlikely, Sasha knew—allcavalry sought the heightsand it was the Taneryn, heldfast to defend their

encampment, who concededthose. The man's eyeswidenedashesawwhoitwasandhisbladedropped.Sasha ran to him. “The

little Udalyn girl!” shedemanded.“Whereisshe?”“I…M'LordKrayliss'stent,

Iwouldthink…”And Sasha was off,

runningbetween tents, tryingto recall the way from theother night, though it hadbeenverydark thenandnow

it all looked different. Shedodgedguide ropesandsteelpegs,withabandonedsaddlesand saddlebags suggesting asurprised, hasty departure.She found the centralfireplace with cookingutensils lying about…There!The big tent beyond, itscentre pole somewhat tallerthantheothers.She ran to the main flaps

andpulledthemaside.Withinwere familiar rugs upon the

grassy floor, but no littleRysha. Sasha backed out,staring about in frustration.Wherewouldtheyhavetakenher? She dared not call out,for the Ranash troops wouldbe close enough to hear. Tobeplaced inKrayliss's camp,atsuchatime,wouldbemostunfortunate.She ran to the nearest tent

and lookedwithin, but foundnothing. Then the next,working her way upslope.

She paused within one tent,lay flat on the ground andlifted the canvas. A line ofTaneryn men confronted alarger, mounted forceupslope.To the frontof theRanash

lines sat aman astride a big,grey charger. The bearer athis back carried the royalbanner of purple and green,and six Royal Guardsmenheld position at his flanks.Koenyg, Sasha realised,with

little surprise.Heworebattleleathers over a chain vest, asdidtherest,abladeathiship.Andhewasspeaking,loudly,although his words weredimmed from this angle bythe tailwind. Sasha strainedherears.“…by Royal decree!” her

eldest brother was shouting.“The order has been passed!Royal sovereignty has beenchallengedandaretractionisdemanded! Should the Lord

Krayliss, Great Lord ofTaneryn, fail to retract, thenheshallbeconsideredinopenrebellionagainstthecrown!”Sasha ran her eyes along

themountedRanashline.Redand black, their horses large,theirshouldersbroadbeneathchainmail of northernforging. Grim-faced men,some with trimmed beardsbeneath their helms, butmostlycleanshaven.Perhapshalf bore shields, unlike the

Midlands–Lenaycustom.Thenorthern heavy cavalry,renownedthroughallLenayinand beyond. The shield ofLenayin, and the bane ofCherrovan.Sasha felt her skin crawl,

toseeherbrother, theheir tothe throneofLenayin, seatedastride before such aformation. Doubtless he didnot trust amixedVerenthaneand Goeren-yai formation toperform such a task. And so

the king-in-waiting wouldlead a puritan Verenthaneforce to crush the last of theGoeren-yailords,infullviewof the other provincialcontingents. Her heart waspounding. She had to findRysha, yet somehow, shecould not tear herself fromthescenebeforeher.Lord Krayliss rode out

upon a warhorse—one ofTaneryn's few, no doubt, formost of their mounts were

skinny dussieh. The windgusted at his long, tangledhair,andswirledathisbeard.Herodeerectinthesaddle,acloak over hard-stitchedleathers,andpaused,aloneonthe hillslope. Beyond, Sashacould see the distant figuresof yet more soldiersclusteringinrowsbeforetheirtents to watch. Very faintly,she heard distant yells, andthen a trumpet, officers inthose neighbouring camps

attempting to form theirmeninto orderly ranks. Theyfeared a rebellion. TheyfearedtheGoeren-yaiintheirmidstwould break ranks andcome racing downhill withbladesdrawn to save the lastof the old chieftains fromcertaindoom.Koenygplayedgames with Krayliss for thefateofLenayin.Thecivilwarcould start here, upon thishillside, this chill and cloudyafternoon. The division of

provinces and towns intowarring factions, Verenthaneagainst Goeren-yai,neighbour against neighbour.Theendofanation.Lord Krayliss halted his

mount and stood in thesaddle. “And so it comes tothis!” he bellowed, his voicecarrying further and louderthanKoenyg'shad.“Theheirtothethrone,andhispetbandof Verenthane murderers!You accuse me of rebellion!

YouaccusetheGoeren-yaiofdisloyalty! Well, I shall tellyou, Prince Koenyg, that thecrown of Lenayin has neverfound such loyal, honourableservants as we men of theancientways!“And what do we get for

all our years of loyalservice?”Hisvoiceliftedtoafurious roar as he faced thewatching ranks of mixedVerenthane and Goeren-yaisoldiers upon the upper

paddocks. “The massacre ofthe Udalyn! Yes, I receivebattered and desperatesurvivors even now as thebloody Hadryn campaignthrough the ancient valley!And then, good Prince, youwishustowagewarupontheserrin,whohavealwaysbeenfriends to the Goeren-yai!And all this, while you rapeour culture, ignore ourcustoms, send priests fromyour temples to convert

impoverished villagers andthenblameusforthetroublesandangeritcauses!“It all ends here! We, the

rightful men of Lenayin,demand justice! The honourof theancientwayshas foracenturybeendraggedthroughthe mud, stamped upon byeach and every Verenthaneboot in the land!Thehonourof the Goeren-yai demandsthat it ends, or that wemustdiefightingforwhatisours!”

He clenchedhis fist in theair, and a roarwent up fromthe Taneryn line. Perhapsfifty men, mostly mounted.Naked blades werebrandishedagainstthecloudyafternoon sky and chants ofopen defiance carried on thewind.Itseemedthattimehadstopped. Such open defianceto the crown, from aprovincial great lord, hadbeenunknowninLenayinfora hundred years. It did not

seem real—that the momentshouldfinallyarrive.Koenyggaveasignalanda

Ranash captain gallopedbehind his line, shoutingorders in a northern tongue.Blades were drawn, broadandsharp,clutchedinglovedfists. The Ranash linenumbered at least a hundred,in two ranks with more inreserve. They held positionwith the discipline ofregimented drill. Whatever

the wild-haired, brazenferocityoftheTanerynline,itnowappearedfragileindeed.Krayliss, Sasha noted, had

notmoved.Hestaredupslopetowardthetentsandthehalf-assembled formations ofprovincialsoldierswhostoodwatching. One of Krayliss'smen rode to his side,appearing to beg him to fallback. Krayliss ignored himand stood once more in hissaddle.

“Menoftheancientways!”he roared toward thewatchingsoldiers.“YouservewithVerenthanes,butyoudonot belong to them! Youbelong to the spirits! Youbelong to the untamed hills,wildandfree!WillyouallowtheUdalyntobeslaughtered?Will you watch your honourbattered and stabbed until itcrumblesintodust?”A yell from the Ranash

captain and the outer flanks

wheeled,creatingmorespacealongtheformation,theinnerriders moving outward,dressingtheline.“What do you wait for?”

Krayliss yelled. To Sasha'sears, it seemed as if a new,alienemotionhadenteredthegreat chieftain's voice.Desperation. He ripped hisgreat blade from its sheathandthrustitskyward,glintingdully against the darkeningclouds. “Fight!” he roared.

“Fight, and claim what isyours!”Fromthesoldiersuponthe

upper fields, there came noreply.No restivemurmuring,nochantsoryellsof fury,orof sympathy. Just a restless,disbelieving silence. Menstood, and waited. Kraylissstared in disbelief. His bladedropped. A yell from theRanash captain and thenorthernlineadvanced,risingquicklytoacanter.

Sasha dropped the canvasand ran for the tent exit as aroar went up from behind.“Rysha!”sheyelledatthetopof her lungs as hoovesthundered, and then therewere Taneryn horseswheeling back amidst thetents at speed. Horsesthundered past, dussieh andthen larger, weaponsbrandished, swords clashingas Sasha crouched behind atent, awaiting an opening in

the forestofhooves.Ahorsecrashed through the tent,mountandriderfallingasthetent pole broke, and Sashascrambled backwards, thenthrew herself rolling asanothercamestraightather.Then she ran, darting and

dodgingasbestshecould,astheworldbecameaconfusionof screamingmen and horse,slashing blades and fallingbodies. Horses tripped onguide ropes, fallenmenwere

trampled by friend and foealike, or slashed hard at themounts of riders to bringdownbothbeastandmaninathrashing,bloodyheap.Sashadarted, dove, scrambled andcrawled her way through thechaos, headed downslope asinstinctdrovehertowardPegandpossibly the forest at thebase of the hill…a Tanerynman was cut from his horsebefore her with an expertslash from passing cavalry,

and fell in a spray of blood.Sasha ran for the riderlessdussieh,grabbingastirrupasthe terrified animal tried torun,thenhurdlingastride.Thesmallhorsewheeledin

confusion, Sasha spurringhard until it lurcheddownslope,weaving betweentents and tripping on bodiesoffallenanimalsandriders…apairofRanashcavalrycameacross in front,Sasha reiningdesperately backwards, then

soughtthewaythosetwohadcome, towrongfootanddashfor the clear space…Adismountedmaninblackandred appeared suddenly infront, slashing low for thedussieh's legs. It fell with ashriek as Sasha barelymanagedtoleapwithherfeetclearofthestirrups.She hit the ground and

rolled,comingtoherfeet,hersword in hand as theRanashmancameather.Sheflicked

his downward smash asidewith a twist of wrists andelbows, then slashed hisstomach and spun clear toremove his head as hedoubled over. The first tworiderswerecomingback,andshe ran, dodging to avoid arushing Taneryn, hurdlinganother'sbloodycorpseasyetanother stumbled screamingnearby, his arm severed andspurtingblood,untilapassingcavalrymancuthimdown.

She dove behind acollapsed tent, gasping forbreath, huddling close to thecanvas for cover. Somethingmoved beneath the canvasandwhimpered.Sashapulleditaside inhorror…andfoundRysha, staring with wide,terrified eyes. Sasha grabbedher with her free arm andheldher.The littlegirl clungtoher, toofrightenedeventoscreamor cry. Igotyou intothis, Sasha thought. What

haveIdone?Beyond the edge of the

encampment, horses wheeledand riders fought. Shewatched as Taneryn warriorswerecutdown,outnumbered,outmanoeuvred andoverpowered. There wereRanash cavalry everywhere.If shecould just findanotherriderless horse—if she couldjustbreakclearandmakeforthe trees—a little dussiehwould be more nimble

throughtheforestthanagreatwarhorse…Only now there were

dismounted cavalry movingin, searching through thetents, examining bodies.Onedrove his blade into a fallenTaneryntobesure.Sashafelta surge of fury, rivalling thefear.“Hide,” she said toRysha,

pulling the collapsed canvasmorefullyoverher.Thensherose and stepped toward the

approaching Ranash, havingnownootherchoice.They saw her, and one in

particularhadthelead.“Hellohello!”hesaidwithcocksuredelight, twirling his blade.His clean-shaven face wasbloodspattered beneath hishelm. “What have we here?Thequeenviperherselfintheviper'snest? I'llhaveyou fora nice trophy, my pretty.Goeren-yai princessindeed…”

He lunged and swung.Sashafaded,parriedandsplithis head like a melon, helmand all. Another roared furyand leaped, Sasha parryingwhilstspinningasideandintoathirdattacker.Shedefendedonce whilst falling to acrouch,andtookhislegwhilerolling. She came up fast,crossed the next overheaddefence into a vicious,diagonal slice of rotatingshoulders and wrists, taking

the second man acrossshoulder and face, thendriving the sword pointthroughthechestofthefallenman whose leg she'd taken,allinonemotion.Hooves thundered, and

running footsteps approachedfrom all angles. It had beenseen. Dismounted men camerunning,weaponsready,theireyeswide,notingheridentityand the corpses upon theblood-soakedgroundbeneath

her boots. They encircled,warily,bladesattheready.Sasha swivelled from one

tothenext,tryingtowatchallwaysatonce.Thethreeatherfeet, it occurred to her, hadbeen easy. The next attackwould be trouble—thesewould not take her socasually. But, even so, shefancied herself a slightchance.At the very least shewould add to this pile at herfeet.

This,sherealised,washowitfelttobegreat.Notmerelygood,asmanyLenaysoldierscould claim, but truly great,asonlyonelikeKessligh,orawarrior of Saalshen, mightknow. To feel confidence,where others might knowdespair. To know that thesmallest error meant death,yettoremainunwavering.Tosee, in a vague and generalway,thatshewasmostlikelydoomed…and yet to stay

calm, seeking an outlet,searchingfortheopening.Toknow that this, more thananything, was what she was,andwhat shewasmeant for.Despair was pointless. Thiswas not her death. This washerlife.Shouts from behind, then,

as several more horses cameclose, their ridersdismounting. Then a Ranashman was pushed aside andKoenyg stood in his place,

staringwithdisbelief.“You!”he said.Therewas

blood on his weapon, andmore on clothes.But then, ithad never been like Koenygto order men into battle andnottopartakehimself.“Icame to rescue the little

Udalyngirl,”Sashatoldhim,pastthelethal,bloodyedgeofher weapon. It had cutthrough northern chainmail,yet bore barely a mark.Neither did her voice, which

wascoolandsteady.“WhichlittleUdalyngirl?”

Koenyg asked flatly. Therewas hostility on his broadface.Andsuspicion.“The sister of the boy I

brought to father,” saidSasha. “She is under the tentbehind me. Look gently, sheisfrightenedandharmless.”Koenygnoddedcurtly toa

man behind her and therecame the sound of canvasbeing moved. Then a

frightened cry from a littlegirl'smouth.“It's all right, Rysha!”

Sasha called, not turning tolook.Neitherdidsheabandonherreadyposture.“Rysha,bestill! My brother is anhonourable man. He wouldnotharmalittlegirl.”Withadark stare at Koenyg,challenging him to prove herwordstrue.“You are in league with

Lord Krayliss,” Koenyg

observed,justasdarkly.“I am not,” Sasha said

coldly. “I rode down here torescue Rysha from yourattack…”“You left her here,”

Koenyg said bitterly. “Youbrought the boy here too.Only Taneryn men couldmake sense of the Edutongue. He helped you. Youare collaborators against thecrown, each as guilty as theother.”

Sasha felt a blaze of fury.Koenyg had often spoken ofloyalty between members ofVerenthanefamilies,andnowshowedhernoneatall.Damnhim. “If you wish to passsuchhastysentence,”shesaidicily, “thenbest youcome toadministerityourself.”“No,”Koenygsaidgrimly.

“You shall face the trial thatLord Krayliss was to havehad. It is not the prince'splace to deliver that justice

which is the king's todispense.”“Traitor,” came themutter

from the men surrounding.“Pagan whore!” And, “Killthepagantraitor!”“Others have tried,” Sasha

said to that last,withanevil,sideways look. Braced andpoised,awaitinganattack.“Istandon their bodies.”Therewas disbelief, and fear,mingling with the smell ofblood and the thunder and

screams of final pursuitsacrossthehillside.Somemenof Ranash uttered oaths andmade holy gestures, furiousyet somehow constrained.The men of the north hadnever believed the stories ofthesvaalverd.Now,theysawthe evidence. Sasharecognised the fear on theirfaces—it was the fear of thesupernatural,theungodly,theunVerenthane. And she didnotmindatall.

A crossbowman appearedatKoenyg'ssideand levelledthat wicked contraption atSasha's chest. There wascontempt on Koenyg's face,his jaw set. “You shallrelinquish your weapons andsurrenderyourselftojustice,”he told her. “Do not befoolish. Your sister wouldneverforgiveyou.”Sofy, he meant. Sasha

lowered her blade, slowly,and lookedherbrother in the

eye. “It's notmewho shouldbe worried about that,” shesaidquietly.“Whenthisisallover, brother, I fear few leftaliveinLenayinshallforgiveyou.”

“IDEMAND THAT YOU LET ME

SEEMYBROTHER!”Sofystaredup at the impassive RoyalGuardsman and tried veryhardnottocry.“I'm sorry, Your

Highness,”saidthearmouredandhelmedVerenthaneman,as firm as a rock before the

door to Koenyg's chambers.“He is in audience. Myinstructionswereexplicit.”“Princess, please,” Anyse

said earnestly, tugging atSofy's sleeve. “The sergeantisonlydoinghisduty…”“He threw my sister in a

dungeon!”Sofyexclaimedonthevergeof tears.“Iwant toknowwhy!”“Highness.” Anyse's tug

was firmer. “Let us leave,thereareotherpeopleyoucan

ask…”The city was in chaos, all

soldiers called to full alert,rowsofarchersstandinguponthe great wall while cavalrymounted in the stables andmade rows before the maingates. Rumour was that theTaneryn contingent had beenslaughtered, though detailswere unclear. Thecircumstance surroundingSashawas even less clear. Ifnot for Sofy's carefully

cultivated lines of gossipamongstfriendlypalacestaff,she doubted she would havediscovered Sasha's plight atall.Koenyg was keeping it

quiet. Now Damon hadfumedtoher,momentsbeforemountinghishorseandridingout on guard as his brotherordered, that Koenyg hadknown how Krayliss wouldreact to the threat of a trialwithoutSasha'spresence,and

had been ready for it.Koenyg, the master warrior,played games to destroy hisopponents. Now that gameincludedSasha'slife.“Whoishemeetingwith?”

Sofy asked the sergeant,strugglingforcomposure.“I'msorry,YourHighness,

Icannotsay.”Sashawouldknowwhatto

do,Sofythoughtwithasurgeof frustration.Gods, shewassotiredofbeingtreatedlikea

child.Peopleignoredher,andpatronisedher,andtoldhertogo elsewhere. EveryoneexceptSasha…andDamon.She tossed her head back,

andgavethesergeantastare.“Do you have a sister,Sergeant?”“Ido,Highness.”“Doyouloveher?”“Verymuch,Highness.”“Willyounotletmein?”“I love my prince too,

YourHighness,” thesergeant

saidsimply.Sofy sniffed. “One day,

Sergeant, I fear you maycome to question thatordering of priorities. Praythatyouchoosewisely.”She moved off down the

stonehall,Anysehurrying ather side. “Highness, weshould really be making ourway back to your Rathynalguests, they'll be wonderingwhereyouare…”“Let them wonder,” Sofy

said shortly. They descendedthe grand staircase to theroyal quarters, Sofy notingthat the guard had beendoubled. Instead of makingher way onward to the greathall, she turned left, backtoward Koenyg's quarters. Asmaller, service corridor ranalongtheeastpalacewall,itswindows overlookingFortressRoadanduptoSaintAmbellion Temple beyond,all aflurry with commotion

andsoldiers.“Highness,” Anyse dared

to ask, “where are yougoing?” Ahead, the corridorended at an open kitchendoor. A servant passedthrough, carrying porcelainplatesona tray. “Highness?”Sofy paused by one door,glanced up and down thecorridor, then opened thelatch and slid inside,beckoning Anyse to follow.“Those are the servants’

stores!”Sofy grabbed her

impatiently by the arm anddragged her inside. She leftthe door ajar to let in somelight, for the roomwas pitchblackandmusty.“Anyse,” said Sofy, “do

youknowwheretheservants’uniformsare?Iwantone.”Anyse stared at her.

“Highness?”“Youheardme.”“You…you want to dress

asa…?”Sofynodded.Anyse looked aghast.

“Absolutelynot!”“I'm going whether you

help me or not,” Sofy saidfirmly. “Do you want me togetcaught?”“I'll go!” Anyse said

desperately. “I'll spy foryou,I'lllistentowhatthey're…”“No!”Anyse blinked in

astonishment to see suchangerintheyoungerwoman's

eyes.“I need to hear myself,

there's no telling if you'llunderstand all that's said.Now can you find me auniform, I don't knowwherethey'restored.”“Highness, no!”

Desperately. “Sofy! It's toodangerous!”“Do you think Koenyg

would execute me?” Sofysaidwithdisbelief.“He thinks you're

Sashandra'sfriend!”“I am Sashandra's friend,”

Sofysaidfirmly.“Andifyoutruly are mine, you'll helpme.”

The hem of the brown dresswas low enough to obscurethe fancy leather boots thatwere surely toogood foranyservantgirl.Noonelookedather as she entered Koenyg's

personal kitchen. Cookstended to pots atop metalovens, firewood stackedhightooneside.Anotherchoppedandslicedonthemainbench,while the head cook gaveforcefulinstructions.At thekitchen's far corner,

a staircasewoundupward.Aservant descended thatstaircase now, placing emptyentréeplatesandglassesonabench, picking up the emptywater bucket and hurrying

out,notsparingSofyaglanceashepassed.Sofyduckedherhead, the servant's bonnetfeeling most unusual tiedbeneathherchinandatopthebundled hair that Anyse hadhelpedtoarrange.There was liquor waiting

on a tray, arranged with sixsmall glasses, and Sofywentstraight to it. Barely had herhands grasped the tray whentheheadcooksawher.“You girl! Just what the

hells do you think you'redoing?”Sofy'sheartskippedabeat.

She turned, hands foldeddemurely, and lowered hergaze in the head cook'sdirection. “I…I was told totaketheseupto…”“Whereareyourwits,girl?

The whisky is for later.They've barely finished theirtea yet. Take the wine, girl,thewine!”Pointingtoalargedecanterandglassesuponthe

centralbenches.Sofy arranged the glasses

anddecanteronatray,tryingto keep her hands fromtrembling,andmadeherwayupthestairs.Noonestoppedher.She felt a surgeof reliefand triumph. It was hardlybravery of Sasha's standard,but it was a bravery all thesame. She nearly grinnedwithexcitement.The staircase spiralled

once,thenarrivedatacurtain

pulled across the entrance toKoenyg's quarters…Sofy hadseenitbefore,butneverfromthis side. She paused,excitement giving way tonervous concentration,strainingherearstomakeoutthe voices from the roomsbeyond. Men's voices, clearandreasonablyloud…butnotimmediately close. Anotherrelief.Theywereinthemainroom, adjoining the diningroom.

Well…she had to risk it.She backed through thecurtain and into the diningroom. A long table was setfor lunch, six places readywith plates and cutlery. Thewindows to the right fronteddirectlyontoSaintAmbellionTemple,withaviewofSorosSquarefurthertoitsnorth.Sofy walked as quietly as

she could to the table, tryingdesperately to recall howshe'd seen the servants

themselvesdoit,soasnot toattractattention.Shekeptherbacktothemainroom,wheremen stood and talked withcups inhand.She couldhearKoenyg's voice as sheunloaded the tray, but shewasconcentratingtoohardonnot dropping a glass to hearwhat he said. She heard ananswering voice, with afamiliar accent—lovely,flowing vowels and softconsonants.TheLarosa.Sofy

was surprised. Koenyg hadjust ridden intobattleagainstthe representatives of aprovince ofLenayin, and thefirstpeoplehetalkedtoweretheLarosa?She walked around the

table, setting glasses beforeeach plate…and glancedfurtively into the next room.Shecould see fourof the sixmen,andaservantwithateatray, hoveringinconspicuously. She

recognisedKoenyg,informalclothes, his hair wet in themanner of one recentlybathed. He appeared utterlyunruffled. Another man sherecognised was ArchbishopDalryn, black robed andfuzzyheaded.“One greatly doubts the

risks to be quite so grave assome would make out,” thearchbishop was saying, inponderous, thoughtful tones.“The pagans of Lenayin are

trulypagan,yet theyarealsoLenay, and they obey theirking.Obediencetothekingishonourable to them and Imust admit that, howevergodless, the pagans aregreatly honourable. In theirownway.”Sofy took up her tray and

moved back toward thecurtained exit. Beside thatexit, however, the door toKoenyg's bedchambers wassimilarlycurtained.Sofytook

adeepbreath,riskedaglanceover her shoulder…andslipped behind thebedchamber curtains. Shewaited, her heart pounding.Shedidnotknowwhatwouldhappen if she were caught.Certainlyitwouldbedifficulttofeigninnocence.She strained her ears to

hear, but the conversationwasmixedanditwasdifficulttopickoutindividualstrands.Something drew her gaze

back to Koenyg's broad bedin the centre of his room.Silver chainmail lay spreadacross the skin blankets, andheavy, leather gloves withsteelknuckles.Onehadbloodonit.Sofystared.And nearly jumped as

voices came suddenly near,silencing a startled gaspbefore it could quite escapeher lips. “I assure you thatthis was not entirelyunforeseen,” came the

archbishop's voice. Heseemed tobestandingby thenearendofthetable.Andhewas not speaking so loud asthe others. Perhaps thisconversationwasmeanttobeprivate.“Theprinceistrulyaman of steel. Where anotherman might have falteredbefore such threats as LordKrayliss made, PrinceKoenyg has endeavoured toturn a difficult situation intoan opportunity. And now, it

seems, the Taneryn problemhasbeendealtwithonceandforall.”“I am most impressed,

Your Grace,” came DukeStefhan's voice, silky smoothand ever so gracious. “Andyet,oneisstilldisquieted.Myking was assured, in forgingthisalliance,thattheclansofLenayin no longer fought. Itis disturbing to us to see ourgreatallysodivided.”“I assure you, Duke

Stefhan, these divisions aremerely temporary. All boldnew directions areaccompanied by a temporarytumult, are they not? KingTorvaal'smind is decided onthealliance,andhecouldnothave an abler lieutenant thanPrince Koenyg. I trust thatyou are not having secondthoughts,mygoodDuke?”“But of course not, Your

Grace.” The duke's footstepscame closer. Sofy stared

down at the short gapbetween the bottom of thedividingcurtainandthefloor,wonderedabruptlyifthemenmight see her boots beneath.She backed up several steps,gingerly.“Just…” and the duke

sighed.“Please,YourGrace.”The voice turned away fromher. “I know that you are aproud Lenay. I mean nooffence.ButIalsoknowthatyou are a true Verenthane,

and a man of great cultureand knowledge. I tell youonly that it is no easy thing,Your Grace, for a proudpeople like the Larosa, andforthebroaderallianceofthefreeBacoshpeoples, tocometo a land like…like Lenayin,forassistance.”“I quite understand, Duke

Stefhan,”saidthearchbishop.“Lenayin is a fair land, butwe cannot possibly hope tomatch the measure of

sophistication and artistry ofa great people such as theLarosa.” Sofy blinked instartlement. The archbishoptrulybelievedthat?“I'm so pleased you

understand,” said DukeStefhan,withtheairofamanever-so-relieved not to havebeenmisunderstood.“Dear Duke,” said Dalryn

laughingly, “of course Iunderstand!Baen-Tarisbutasmall island of aspiring

civilisation in a sea ofbarbarity!We try, my Duke.The holy fathers try so hardto bring civilisation to themasses, and in the largertownshipsIampleasedtosaythat we make progress. Butthe rural folk resist so, andthey are fierce in theirsavagery. The king willsimply not allow us to takestronger measures ofpersuasion, no matter howoftenwemayaskitofhim.”

The duke laughedappreciatively. Sofy feltsuddenlycold.“Oh,Idohavedreams,my

Duke,” Dalryn continued,withthewearyamusementofamanconfrontedwithalongand endless task. “I dreamthat perhaps, in severalcenturies from now, Lenayinmay aspire to become evenhalf of the great, civilisedkingdom that Larosapresentlyis.ButIunderstand

that it must pain you to beforced to seek such analliance, and on such terms.Howcoulditnot?”“Your Grace is most

civilised, and mostunderstanding,” said DukeStefhan. “Your dreams foryour kingdom are worthy.Indeed,mypeoplesaythatisthe truest calling of aVerenthane to pursue thegreatestandmostnobletasks,even if they may take many

lifetimes to complete.We inthe free Bacosh nowendeavour toward such agrandtask—firstly,toreunifythe Bacosh, and secondly, torid ourselves of the threatsand barbarism of pagans anddemonsalike.“One must deal firmly,

YourGrace!”Therecamethesmacking sound of a fistdriven into an open palm.“Thegods’word is final andthe gods’ word is law. The

gods do not negotiate withtheir lessers. The threatmustbe removed. And one day itshall, by any means at ourdisposal. If Lenayin is tobecome the great civilisationof your dreams,YourGrace,you should learn this lesson.Be strong with the pagans—forceisalltheyunderstand.”The cold in Sofy's veins

grew worse. Her stomachtightened,andshefeltill.Shestuckaknuckle inhermouth

and bit to refocus her mind.She couldn't believe she'dbeen so stupid! Sasha hadbeenrightallalong.The archbishop made an

appreciative noise. “And thegirl,DukeStefhan?Youhavebeen spending quite sometime with her the last fewdays.Issheadequate?”“She is pretty enough, one

supposes,” the duke saidregretfully.“Ourheirwillnotbe offended by her looks at

least. But she is so simple,YourGrace. Simple, childishandheadstrong,withnoneofthe sophistication of aculturedLarosanlady.”“But one must make

allowances, Duke Stefhan.Her upbringing was not theequivalent of the royalLarosancourt.Andsheistheyoungest daughter, andspoiled.”Timeseemed tostop.Sofy

couldnotdenywhatherears

were hearing, even thoughherdazedandhorrifiedmindrefusedtoacceptit.Shestoodparalysed,clutchingthesilvertraywithnumbfingers.“This is true, Your

Grace…but again, pleaseunderstand that it shall be asacrifice to thedignityof theheir.Tomarrysuchagirl,forthe sake of an alliance, shallbedistasteful.”“The Larosa require the

services of the army of

Lenayin,” the archbishopreplied, somewhat sternly.“Lenayinmaybeuncivilised,my Duke, but when held intightreinbeneathVerenthanecommand, the pagans cancertainly fight…and, I mightadd, our Verenthane soldiersare perhaps unmatched inhumanlands.”“I do not doubt it, Your

Grace.”“And Lenayin requires the

alliance to bring them fully

into the brotherhood ofVerenthane kingdoms.Remember that it is notmerely your Larosan kingthat you serve,DukeStefhan—it is the gods. The godsshall be strengthened inLenayin by this alliance, andtheholyBacoshshallbefreedfrom pagans and demonsalike and the holy Bacoshthroneshallberestored to itsformer glory. Such a greatdestiny is worthy of some

small personal sacrifices,don't you think? And if thegirl displeases the Larosanheir too greatly…well, heneedn'tactuallybedwithher,needhe?I'mcertainthat,inacivilised kingdom such asyour own…otherarrangements could befound?”

Jaryd stood atop the great

Baen-Tar walls by the maingate, watching the steadyflow of Rathynal traffic. Allentering the city, be theyfarmers on their carts, ortownsfolk afoot, or nobilityon horses, were beingthoroughly searched bywarysoldierswith drawnweapons—northerners, Jaryd saw,lookingdownonthem.“They're searching for

weapons?” Jaryd askedCaptainTyrun,whostoodon

the wall beside him, lookinggrim.“Whowouldbefoolishenough to smuggle weaponsintothecityatsuchatime?”“Not weapons,” said

Tyrun, with a shake of hishead. “Messages. Or maybepoisons.”“Even if there were

Goeren-yai who'd takerevenge for Lord Krayliss,”Jaryd countered, “I couldn'timaginethembeingsosubtle.Goeren-yai take revenge by

chopping neckswith swords.Anything else isdishonourable.” His armthrobbed in its sling, and hefelt naked beside his men'schainmail, which was toomuchefforttodonbecauseofthe injury. He worried forSasha, too.Hismen reportedseeing her leave on her bigblack horse, and there wereno reports of her return. Hehoped she hadn't doneanything stupid. But then,

knowing Sashandra Lenayin,thatseemedafutilehope.Jaryd exhaled hard. “With

Kraylissgone,what'llhappento Taneryn? Who'll be thegreatlord?”“Uncertain,” said Tyrun.

“If I were a suspicious man,I'd guess they intended todecide that at this Rathynal.Only they thought we'd killKraylisswhenwewentnorthandthey'djusthavetodecidewho to replace him with.

Prince Damon only delayedthingsabit.”“Won't Taneryn get to

decidetheirowngreatlord?”“Seriously?” Tyrun

frownedathiscommanderina way that made Jaryd feelabout ten years old. “Howmanyprovincesget todecidetheirgreat lord?TheGoeren-yai are a majority in maybeseven out of elevenprovinces, and how manyGoeren-yai great lords are

there? Only noble lords candecide to raise a great lordfromtheirmidstifthereisnonatural heir; commonfolkhave no voice. Krayliss'sfamily survived this longbecause the chieftains ofTaneryn have always heldgreat power and Krayliss'sgreat-grandfather fought hardagainst the Cherrovan, butrefused to convert. He wastheonlyone.”“Krayliss has sons…”

Jarydventured.“Huh,” Tyrun snorted.

“There's an old law, SyldenSarach;itmeans‘judgmentofclans’ in some old tongue orother, I forget. Old CorporalCadyth was tellingme aboutit. Under the old ways, achieftain'sentirefamilycouldbe dissolved if his peersdeemed that family's honourstainedbeyondrepair.”“Dissolved?”“Aye, dissolved. The

family heads executed, thechildren adopted into otherfamilies.KingSoroskeptthatlaw, though it's never beenused since. Mighty usefulnow, I'll reckon. They'll findawaytogetthewholefamilyout of the way, find one ofKrayliss'senemiesinTaneryn—and he has plenty—who'swillingtoconvert,andthere'syournewgreatlord.”“You talk as though you

don'tapprove.”

Captain Tyrun shrugged.“Approve, disapprove…I ama humble company captainfrom lowly stock. My fatherwas a stablehand and mysistermarriedamiller.Idoasthe Great Lord of Tyreecommands.”“And what of the king's

commands?”Jarydventured.“Usually that's the same

thing.”Tyrungavehisyoungapprentice a stern, sidewaysstare. “Pray that it should

remainso.”“Master Jaryd! Master

Jaryd!”Jarydturnedtofindayoung man in lordly clothesandchainmailemergingfromthe gate guardhouse,evidently out of breath fromhavingclimbedthestairsfast.“Rhyst!” Jaryd welcomed

the lordling with surprise, ashe pushed past the othersoldiers on the wall. “I hadnot spotted you lately.CaptainTyrun,haveyoumet

Master Rhyst Angyvar? He'sthesecondsonofLordIgnysAngyvar, he and I weresparring partners as lads,amongotherthings.”“Master Rhyst,” Tyrun

acknowledged, with a shortbow.“What brings you?” Jaryd

added, unable to keep theedgefromhisvoice.Inallthedayshe'dbeenbackinBaen-Tar, Rhyst had not so muchassaidhello.

“Word that you arerequired urgently at yourfather'sbedside,” the lordlingreplied.His young faceworethe anxiety of bad news.“Your father has takengrievously ill, Jaryd. Itdoesn'tlookgood,I'msorry.”Jaryd stared, his heart

thumping unpleasantly hardinhischest.Now?Ofall thetimes, his father had to picknow?“Best you go, lad,” Tyrun

said,withasclosetoagentletone as Jaryd had ever heardhimuse.“We'llholdthewallforyourreturn.”Jarydnoddedandfollowed

his old friend back to theguardhouse. His guardsmenlooked at him as he passed;the nearest ones, who hadoverheard, with sympathyandconcern.“I'm sorry I did not visit

when you were injured,”Rhyst said anxiously as they

strode across the vast, pavedexpanse of Soros Square. “Iwished to, but…well, it'sRathynal. You know how itis, mymother introducesmeto girl after girl, and myunclesinvitemetofeastafterfeast…I swear I never knewhow many relatives andmarriageprospectsIhaduntilnow.”“That'sokay.” Jarydgazed

at the statue of the Angel ofMercy, looming in the

square's centre ahead, wingsunfurled. Where is yourmercytoday,angel?ForLordKrayliss, the people ofTaneryn, or for me? “Whatdo the healers say is theproblem?”“He has a fever and the

sweats. He is incoherent andhis pulse is far too rapid andfaint.”“Do the lords gather?”

Jaryd asked through grittedteeth.

“They do. My fatheramong them…he sent me tobringyou.”The day felt somehow

surreal. As they movedtogether up the main palacesteps, Jaryd noticed one oftheRoyalGuardsmenondutyby the grand doors staring athim. Another did also, thensnapped his gaze forwardwhen Jaryd looked at him.Evidently things were bad ifthe duty guardsmen were

staring.Glancing sideways at

Rhyst, he noted the youngman biting his lip as hewalked. Of course he wasanxious, escorting the great-lord-in-waiting to his dyingfather'sbedside.Butstill…“Isthere something else amiss?”he asked. One of the lordsmaking trouble, he thoughtdarkly. Even now, at such atime, theywould not be abletorestrainthemselves.

“Something else?” Rhystasked. “No, nothing else.”Something about his mannerfelt odd. The young man'stone and expression wereneutral, tinged with anxietyand concern for thesituation…and yet. Jarydrecalled an old memory—Rhyst the popular, good-looking boy with the goldentongue. Rhyst had been hisfriend to his face, but then,later on, he'd overheard him

making snide remarks aboutthe “dunce of Tyree” to theothernoblechildren,tomuchamusementfromall.Up the end of the Great

Hall, rows of chairs werearranged beneath the greatmural dome high above.There, Lord Krayliss hadmade his grandpronouncement and led hismen from the hall in theuproar. There, he had signedhisdeathwarrant.

Jaryd noticed a manapproaching from the left,agedandbaldanddressed inthe rough work clothes of agroundsman. He wasglancing around nervouslyand heading straight towardthem. Jaryd frowned. Theman wore rings in his earsandhissharp,weatheredfacebore the faded marks of theGoeren-yaiquill.“My Lord,” he called

hoarsely, looking straight at

Jaryd. “My Lord, please,don'tgoupstairs.”Jaryd sensed Rhyst stiffen

withalarm.“Getaway,stupidold fool!” he snapped,grasping Jaryd's good rightarm to pull him past. A pairof young nobles appearedfurther down at a run. Theystopped, stared about, thenspotted the old man, Jarydand Rhyst. They startedrunningtowardthem.“Don't go upstairs?” Jaryd

asked incredulously, pullingagainst Rhyst's grip on hisarm. “Why not?What in allthehellsisgoingon?”“Stopthatoldman!”yelled

one of the approachingnobles. “He's armed! HemeanstokillMasterJaryd!”“Killme?” Jaryd had time

to think indisbelief asRhystpulled his sword. “He couldbarelywieldahoe,letaloneablade.” He shoved Rhystaside and pulled his own

sword.“What'sgoingon?”hedemanded of the old man astherunningmencamecloser.“Master,” the old man

rasped, with little apparentfear, “they killed yourbrother.Isawitwithmyowneyes…”“Silence you!” Rhyst

shouted, brandishing hisweapon, but Jaryd steppedinto his way. He could notspeak. He stared at Rhyst,whose eyes were now wary,

perhaps fearful. The runningmenarrived,slowingtoajog,thenawalk.“They took the boy from

his class in the gardencourtyard,” the old mancontinued.“Itendthegardensthere, I saw them grab him.Buttheboywasfast,hehadalittle blade—a knife, solong,” he indicated with hishands, “a silver ornament onthehilt.Hestabbedoneman,and thatman lost his temper

andkilledhim.”Tarryn. He was talking

about Tarryn. No. Tarryncould not be dead. Not hislittle brother. How couldanyone kill Tarryn? Just theother day, Sasha had kissedhis cheek and called him adarling. Everyone likedTarryn…of course everyoneliked Tarryn, who couldpossiblywanttokill…Rhyst,herealised,wasjust

staring at him, not denying a

thing. The tip of his tongueprotrudedfromonecornerofhis mouth, anxiety nowbattlingfearinhiseyes.Jarydrecognised the expression—Rhyst had worn it whensparringagainsthimasaboy,deciding whether or not toattack.“Putthesworddown,”one

of the new arrivals said andJaryd saw their swords werealso drawn. The old manwisely backed away. “Put it

downandwe'lltalkabout…”Jaryd lunged and swung,

one-handed, clashing theman's sword from his hand.The man cursed, leapingbackward,andJarydswungatthe other,who parried twice,desperately,asJarydretreatedfor a side hallway. Rhystcircled and tried to come athim from the side, thenbacked up quickly as Jarydswung at him, fear in hiseyes. Even one-handed, still

theyfearedhim.Theyalwayshad. Maybe that was why…perhapsthatwaswhythey…Jaryd turned and ran. His

armshriekedinagony,buthedidn't care. He raced pastseveralnoblesandservantsinthe side hall. Footstepspursued, voices echoed offthe high ceiling, a generalalarm being raised. RoyalGuardsmen appeared ahead,weapons drawn, and Jarydturned up a staircase, taking

steps three at a time. Heshould not be going up, thethought occurred to him. Onthegroundfloororbelow,hemight escape. But hecontinued up the flightsregardless.Theslingslowedhisascent

and his nearest pursuer wasnearly upon him. Jarydstoppedabruptly,lungedbackand swung. Rhyst partlydeflectedtheblow,yetcaughttheblade to the face anyhow

and fell to the flagstonesscreaming. The next pursuerstopped to attend him andJarydranonward.Herealisedhe was crying, tears wettinghis face as he ran, and notfrom the pain in his arm.Tarryn was dead. They'dkilledhislittlebrother.Itwasapaintoobigtobebornebyone man. It needed to beshared. He would share itwith them all. They toowould feel this pain. All of

them.He reached the grand

staircase to the palace's topfloor without quite knowinghow he'd reached it. Therewere men he recognised onthe staircase, their figuresoutlined against the grand,two-storey windows. Theirblades were drawn inresponse to the commotionapproachingfrombelow.Jarydchargedup thestairs

witharoar,forcingoneintoa

stumbling retreat. The manlost balance and fell, Jarydleaping over him to swing atthe next, who backed away,parrying furiously. Then athird, whose defencecrumbled beneath Jaryd'sfurious stroke, clutched hisarmasJaryd'sbladebitdeep.Agony slashed Jaryd's leftthigh…the first fallen manhad slashed from adownstairs crouch, and nowthesecondtookthechanceto

charge. Jaryd smashed hisswing aside in fury and hiscounterslash sent himspinning to flop down thestonestairsinabloodytangleoflimbs.Jarydstaggeredup therest

of the stairs, dragging hisuncooperative leg. His leftarmhadsomehowtornfreeofits sling, the bandagedforearm screaming, a painnow dimmed by his leg.Beside the pain in his heart,

bothwereasnothing.Ahead, the hall to his

father's chambers was filledwithTyreenobility,weaponsdrawn and eyes staring indisbelief. Jarydcharged themall,withnomoreregretsthanthat his bloody leg andbroken arm would preventhim from showing them hisbest. Blades clashed and hedrove back one man, thenanother, as men retreatedbefore him, fear on their

faces. The next man did notretreat and Jaryd split hisbelly all over the hallflagstones. They were allaround him then, someapproachingfrombehind,andhe spun wildly in circles,swingingatallwhodaredhisreach, grunting and yellinglike an animal. He woundedanother,thenbarelydefendeda lunge that slammed hisparrybackontohischestandthrew him sideways into the

wall. He hit his arm,screamed, then fell againstthe wall, jolting his leg. Theworld went blank for amoment.Then his head cleared and

he tried to rise…too late, ablow struck the blade fromhis hand and then a kickfound his leg. Shouts andyells echoed as he fell to theflagstones and blows raineddown. A kick knocked himinsensible, and then someone

had a fistful of his hair andthere was a blade at histhroat.Thecutdidnotcome.Hecouldhearvoices,butnotthe words. There was anargument, and more yelling.He wished they'd hurry upand do it. Tarryn would bealone and frightened beforetheVerenthanegods.Hisbigbrothershouldbewithhim.Soon, little mite, he

thought. Soon.He could feelTarryn near him, a warm,

laughing presence.Comforting. Little mischiefmaker. He nearly smiledthrough bruised, bloodiedlips.Whyweretheytakingsolong?

The cell was as cold, and asmiserable, as Sasha hadimagined it would be duringher illicit childhoodwanderings through this

place. She sat on the bed—awoodenbenchcoveredbyanold, rotting blanket—andtriedtobecalm.Therewasalamp flickering somewhereup the hall, flame dancinguponold,darkstone.Her captors had allowed

her to keep her cloak, yet itwasbarelyenoughagainstthechill. Her wrists throbbedwhere the bonds had pulledtight, and still the red marksremained.They had placed a

hood over her head andwrapped her in the cloak,then loaded her onto a cartwithotherprisoners.Thecarthad then clattered up thecentral road of Baen-Tar—she knew because of thecobbles beneath the wheelsand the jeering of locals,somepeltingrottenfruitandafew stones. Hood and cloakensuredthatnooneknewheridentity,oreventhatshewasfemale. This secret, like

others, would be smotheredforalittlewhileatleast.Howlongthatwouldlast,andwhatthe reaction would be whencertainpersonsfoundout,shecouldnotguess.Her empty dinner tray sat

uponthebedalongside.Plainbreadandwater, ithadbeen.Perhaps they had expected aprincesstoprotest,ortostickup her nose at such fare. Intruth, she'd suffered worseupon the road chasing

Cherrovan incursions. Thetray sat empty,with barely acrumbremainingtotempttherats. Or at least, she mighthave expected rats.But now,asshelistened,shecouldhearonlysilence.This, sheguessed,was the

oldest and most deserted ofthe old castle quarter. Thedungeons remained the onlypart of the old castle stillservingtheiroriginalpurpose.The old chieftains of Baen-

Tar had made much use oftheir dungeons. Cherrovanoverlords had ruled fromhere, and the chiefs of ClanFaddyn as well—as her ownfamily had been knownbefore the Liberation whenSoros Faddyn changed hisname to Lenayin to inspirethe uprising against theCherrovan.ThatLenayinwasnow a better place could beseenbythenumberofemptycells stretching along vast

underground halls of stone.The cold stone of CastleFaddyn's dungeons echoedwith memories of bloodywars and ancient feuds longforgottenbymost.Now,eventheratsdidnotventuredownhere. A place so rarelyoccupiedwouldoffernothingtoeat.Thereechoedtheclankofa

metalgate—thewardencometotakethedinnertray,Sashaguessed. A light approached

down the hall, casting newshadows in the gloom…andthen—asurpriseasthefigureholding the lamp appeared,wrapped in a cloak with along dress that swept theflagstone at her heels. Longhair framed an anxious face,eyes searching through thebars.Sofy.ShesawSashaandran the

last few steps to grasp thebars opposite. Sasha climbedto her feet, slowly, not

wishing a great scene. Butshe was very pleased to seeher sister all the same, anddelighted by her audacity.She only wished that Sofy'seyeswouldnotshinesowithmoisture at the sight of hersisterlockedinthiscold,darkcellbelowtheground.“I'm well,” Sasha said

gently, answering theunasked question. Sofyseemed to be holding backtears with effort. Sasha

grasped her slim handthrough the bars, with whatshehopedwasreassurance.“Iwasnothurt.”“I heard you were with

Krayliss,” Sofy said, voicehushed and eyes wide.“Anyse told me she'd heardyou joined with Krayliss tosmuggle a pair of Udalynchildren into thecity tomeetfather!Isthattrue?”Sasha nodded. “Father did

not listen, Sofy. He took

Daryd, the Udalyn boy, andconfinedmetoquarters.Yourmaid sentword thatKraylisshadallbutdeclaredrebellionand I suspected Koenygmight seize that chance. Itried to save theUdalyn girl,Rysha…and I nearly gotaway. She's alive, last I saw,but I was too late all thesame.”Sofy's eyes were

incredulous. “But Sasha…youcouldhavesentsomeone

else!Oneofmymaidswouldhave carried a message! Noone would have wanted thelittle Udalyn girl indanger…”“I got her into it,” Sasha

said stubbornly. “It was myideatouseKrayliss'scampasahidingplaceforher. Itwasmyresponsibility,andIcouldnot be certain any messagewouldbesent in time.Itwasfaster to do it myself…andeventhen,Iwastoolate.Had

I not gone, Rysha wouldprobablybedead.”“But Sasha,what a risk to

take! Do you realise howmuch theGoeren-yai look toyou? You are a great hope,Sasha, for so many ofthem…”“And what would you

knowaboutthedesiresoftheGoeren-yai?” Sasha snapped,inaflashoftemper.“I was talking with

Anyse,” Sofy said

reproachfully, wiping at hereyes. “She hears all thegossip about Baen-Tar fromall the Goeren-yai staff andsoldiers. They talk of you,Sasha.I thinkthat it's largelybecause of you, and yourknown dislike of Krayliss,thatnonechosetofollowhimonthefieldtoday.”Krayliss on his horse. The

final, desperate plea acrossthe fields. The raised sword,slowly dropping. Utterly

unexpected, a lump raised inher throat for the tragedy ofLord Krayliss. It must haveshattered him. A man who,above all else, desperatelywished to be loved by hispeople. In the end, they hadnotreturnedthatlove.Hehadbeen selfish, brutish,bloodthirstyand,worstofall,he hadmisjudged the desiresofthepeoplewhoseheartshehad claimed to know betterthan any other. And yet, in

that finalmoment of despair,heearnedherpity.Sheknewwhat it was like to feel soutterlyalone.“Don'tmakeme regret it,”

Sashamuttered.“Iwon'tkickthe man's corpse while it'sstillwarm.”Sofy blinked. “He's not

dead, Sasha.” Sasha frownedinsurprise.“Helives, thoughnot for long. They erect astanduponSorosSquareevennow. Tonight, there will be

executions. All the Tanerynpartywhosurvived,includingKrayliss. Perhaps ten, Ithink.”“Hewastakenalive?”That

was evenworse.At the veryleast, Krayliss would havewishedmartyrdom.Forallhisbluster,shecouldnotbelievehehadshowncowardice.Hisbravery, at least, had surelybeengenuine.“His horse fell,” Sofy

explained. “Or at least, that's

what I heard. He lostconsciousness. But he diestonight. Koenyg was veryfirm.” There was an edge toSofy's tone, faintly cold andsomewhat sarcastic. Disdain,Sasha recognised it. Disdainfor the barbarities of whatsomemencalledjustice.“He attempted rebellion,

Sofy,” Sasha said quietly.“He deserves death. Such isthelaw.”“And does Master Jaryd

deservedeath?”“Jaryd?” Sasha askedwith

afrown.“WhatdidJaryd…?”“The lords of Tyree

invoked an old law,” Sofysaid breathlessly. “Jaryd'sfather died, and rather thanacceptJarydasthenewgreatlord, they invoked this lawand…and they dissolvedFamily Nyvar, Sasha!Dissolvedit!”“Sylden Sarach,” Sasha

murmured,horrified.“That…

that's an old pagan barbarity,how could a bunch ofVerenthanes use…? Whathappened?WhereisJaryd?”“Inadungeon, somewhere

nearhere…Icouldn'tgetintosee him, Sasha, the dungeonguards turned a blind eye tomevisitingmysister,andoneofthem'sGoeren-yaianyhow.But there'sacoupleofTyreelordlings doing guard dutydown by Jaryd's cell, I don'tthink they trust the guards

here.”Sofy clutched thebarsmoretightly,herfacefearful.“Sasha…they killed Jaryd'sbrother! Just a little boy,Tarryn Nyvar, they tried totake him, they tried to takethe whole family, all thedirect relations…but the boystabbedhisabductorandtheykilled him, right in thepalace! It's so awful, thoseTyreefoolsmadesuchamessof it, Sasha! And I alwayssaid it was so stupid to arm

little boys with short blades,whatever the traditionssay…”Sasha was not listening.

She felt paralysed. Sheremembered the little boywith freckles and sandy hairwho'd sat on Jaryd's bed andchatted with a cheerfulsparkle in his eyes. SyldenSarach. An old Goeren-yaitradition, mostly abandonednowamongstthefollowersofthe ancientways. In disputes

between chieftains over theline of succession, there wasalways the question ofinheritance. Kill the fatherand the sons would grow upseeking revenge. Yet killingchildrenwas not honourable.Better to dissolve the familyand adopt the children intofriendly families, so thatrevenge would be all themoredifficult for themwhentheycameofage.There were grand old

stories about it, of heroeswith torn loyalties, boysbecomingmen determined toavenge their dead fathers,only to find themselves inconflict with their adoptedfamilies.How could a bunchof noble Verenthanes invokean old pagan law that thepagans themselves had longabandoned? The sheer,bloody-minded cynicismshocked her. Andworse, herbrother, and therefore her

father, had most likelycondoned it, given that ithappenedundertheirroofandtheirprotection.“What did Jaryd do?” she

asked Sofy quietly, past thelumpinherthroat.“An old Goeren-yai

groundsman saw themurder!” Sofy whispered, asif scared the cold stoneswould overhear. “He foundand told Jaryd before theycouldleadhimintoatrapand

Jarydwentberserk!Hekilledthe heir to Family Wyshal,whom I gather used to be anold friend of his…and hekilled another man I don'tknow, and wounded threemore before theyoverpowered him! I thinkDamon was there, I haven'tbeenabletofindoutexactly,but someone found out whatwas happening and stoppedthem from killing Jaryd…some maids said it was

Damon, but others disagree,and I can't find Damonanywhere! Sasha, I'm reallyscared…you don't think he'dbeinanytrouble,doyou?”“I don't know,”Sasha said

quietly. “But if the GreatLord of Tyree is suddenlydead,that'sveryconvenient.”“Yes I know, isn't it just!”

Sofy exclaimed, noddingvigorously. “Thehealers saidheshouldhave lastedseveralmoremoonsatleast!”

“The lords of Tyree musthave asked Koenyg andfather for permission,” Sashasaid heavily. She put bothhands inherhair, as if to tryandholdherthoughtsinorderwith that pressure alone.“They caved in. Or theyagreed. Just like they agreedto let the Hadryn attack theUdalyn, and like Koenygarranged to have Kraylisskilled.Thekingfinallyneedsthegreatlordsforsomething,

andthegreatlordsdemandalltheirduespaidatonce,afull,accumulated century ofthem…all save the GreatLordofTyree,whosuddenlybecame a liability, thanks tohis stubborn, brave, naivefoolofason.”Sheturnedawayandstared

at the bleakwall of her cell.Allforastupidholywarforafaith half of Lenayin didn'teven belong to. And allbecause her poor, beloved

pagans really were asquabbling rabble, just likethe nobles claimed. PoorJaryd.Poor,bravefool.Evenif he'd known what wascoming, would he havechanged his course?Perhaps…but also, perhapsnot. Crazy man. He wasalmost Goeren-yai in that. Astubbornness almost worthyof Krayliss. Or Krystoff. Orherself. All these crazyLenays, all bent on self-

destruction,andall forwhat?Why did they do it? Whyhadn't any of them changedcourse when they'd had thechance?Maybe this was what

Kesslighhadtriedtotellher.Had struggled to drum intoher thick skull, from themoment it was hard enoughforhimtorattlewithastanch.Beliefs aredangerous,Sasha.Be very careful what youbelievein.Kesslighwasgone

now, headed for Petrodor.She'd cursed him for adisloyal traitor. But look ather now. Look at Krayliss.Look at Krystoff. Look atJaryd. They'd all had thechoice between pragmatismand ideals. Kessligh hadtaken the pragmatic option,whatever the emotional painit cost him. She'd donewhatshe'd always done and ledwith her heart instead of herhead…and had ended up

here.Wasthistheculminationof

Kessligh's last great lesson?He'd struggled to containKrystoff's wilder impulses,but her crazy brother hadalienated the north and thehardline Verenthanes, andlost his life for it. HadKrystoff in his last momentsrealised how he'd beenbetrayed,whentheCherrovanwarpartyhadthundereddownfrom the hills in far greater

numbers than Hadryninformation had led him tobelieve? Would she finallyrealisethetruthofthislessonalso,after thesentenceathertrialhadbeenpassed,andtheaxewasfinallyabouttodrop?At least, she thoughtdespairingly, she'd be inplentiful company. But thatwasnocomfortatall.“I hate him,” said Sofy,

with sudden venom. “I hateKoenyg. It's all a game to

him,likealagandcontest.Hewants towin,hedoesn't carewhogetskilled.”“Father is king,” Sasha

reminded her. Sofy'svehemencesurprisedher.Shewasn't sure she couldremember Sofy ever sayingthat she hated anyone, letalone family. “Theresponsibilityishis.”“You've seen him!” Sofy

protested, anger in her darkeyes.“He'slikeamanlostin

a storm, in a world he doesnot comprehend any more!When he had eyes to see forhimself, when the worldmade sense to him, he heldthe reins like a truekingandeveryone bowed to hiswisdom.Butnowhe'sablindman, groping for support inthe dark, and Koenyg is theoneholdinghisrightarm.Ofcoursefathershouldbewiserand stronger, but the fault isKoenyg's! Koenyg should

guide better, he shouldn't beso…so…”To Sasha's consternation,

Sofy's anger began tocrumple into tears. Sheclutched her sister's handmore tightly through thebarswith increasing concern.“Sofy? Sofy, what's wrong?WhatdidKoenygdo?”Sofy looked away, a hand

to her mouth, trying to stopher lip from trembling. Shetook a shuddering breath. “I

found out…” she began, andlostcontrolofhervoiceoncemore.Tearsfloweddownhercheeks.Sasha's concern turned to

dawning fear. Koenyg haddevious plans that involvedSofy? “What did you findout,Sofy?”Sofygasped,tryingtogain

control. She managed itfinally,wipinghercheeks.“IfoundouttherealreasonwhytheLarosaarehere,”shesaid

weakly.Her eyes focused ontheir clasped hands. “I…Ioverheard…or no, I didn'toverhear, I spied. I heardthem talking…oh, Sasha, I'mso sorry I snapped at youbefore.Youwere right aboutthe Larosa—Duke Stefhan isa lying, conniving,murderous…”Sashatightenedhergripon

Sofy's hands. “What did youfindout?”“They…they were talking

aboutsomegirl,liketwomensizing up a cow before theslaughter, and…and talkingaboutmarriage, and at first Ithought “they must bespeaking of Alythia,” sinceshe's the one gettingmarried…but then theymadereferencetothisgirlbeingtheyoungest, and they said howimmature she is, and howstupid, and how absolutelyfoul it would be for the heirof theLarosanking tomarry

her…”Sasha stared in dawning

horror, as it all, suddenly,madesense.“Ohno,”wasallshecouldsay.Sofy saw her expression,

and the control crumpledonce more. “Koenyg wantsmetomarryabloody-handedtyrant, Sasha,” she burst outall at once, “andFathermusthaveagreedtoit,andI'mstillonly eighteen, and I'm soscaredbecauseIdon'twantto

go!”Shesobbeduncontrollably,

her head bowed against thebars. Sasha tried to hold herwith her hands through thebars, but it was impossible.She felt utterly, desolatelycold. She had killed Lenaysupon the fields before Baen-Tarandfoundlittleregretforit. Now, she felt entirelycertainthatifoneofthemhadbeenherbrotherKoenyg,herregretwould have been even

less.Damnhimtothedeepestand hottest of his preciousVerenthanehells.Forthenexttime theymet upon the fieldof battle with blades drawn,surely only one of themwouldwalkawayalive.

Sheawokewithastart, lyingonthehardboards,andstaredatthelightthatdancedacrossthe stone ceiling. The dream

had been of Krystoff. She'dfallenoffherpony.He'dbeenlaughingather.She'dtriedtoclimb back on, but the ponyhad somehow become Pegand was far too tall for herlittlelegstoreachthestirrup.Krystoff had galloped off,and somehow she'dmanagedtogetupandgallopafterhim.And had found herself in abroad,widevalleywithsteepsides, cultivated lands and awide, beautiful river that

gleamedbeneaththelightofafull,silvermoon.From further up the hall,

there came a scuffing,echoing noise. Then a clankofkeysandmutteringvoices.Sasha sat up quickly, feet tothe floor. The keys rattledsomemore,thenthesquealofthe gate opening. Severalpairsof feet approached.Shehad no idea what time ofnightitwas,orevenifitwasstill night. But there would

onlybemore thanoneguardifshewerebeingmovedfromhercell.Three men appeared, and

none of them looked likeguards. The leader held aflickering lamp which failedtoilluminatehisfacebeneaththe shadowing hood. Hehanded the lamp to hiscompanionand fumbledwitha ring of keys, as his twocompanions took warystances on either side. They

appearedtobearmedbeneaththeircloaks,andlookedtobeexpectingtrouble.Sasha got to her feet in

alarm, feeling naked withouther weapons. A vigilantegroup come to murder her?Northernersseekingrevenge?But how would they getthrough the guards withouther having heard the soundsofbattle?“Whoareyou?”sheasked,

thinkingfuriously.

The leader, to her furthersurprise, appeared to bestruggling to find the rightkey. He tried one, thenanother,muttering to himselfwhen theydidnot fit.Ashishead bowed, some long hairspilled fromwithin thehood.Not a northerner, then.“Patience, Princess,patience,” he said, evidentlythrough gritted teeth. Thevoiceseemedfamiliar.Finally, a key fit, and

turnedwithasquealofrustedmechanism.Hetookthelampback from his companion,pushedtheprisongateinwardand threw back his hood.Long, partly braided red hairfell clear in the light, andfamiliar, roughenedfeatures…andSashablinked.“Teriyan?” she exclaimed.

Her old friend grinned,appearing to find herastonishmentamusing.“Whatthehellsareyouupto?”

“Insurrection,” he saidshortly, and stood aside.“Come,let'sgo.”Sashastoodfrozenwhereshewas.“Comeon!”Teriyansaidimpatiently.“I'll explain on the way,there's no time to wastegawking.”Sasha went, having little

other choice, and Teriyanplaced a hand on her backand ushered her up the hall.Theother twomen followed.“What's going on?” Sasha

demanded,keepinghervoicelowastheypassedemptycellaftercold,emptycell.“Goeren-yai in these parts

are having a littledisagreement with yourfather,” Teriyan said, in asimilarly low voice. “It's allorganised,nothing foryou toworryabout.”Somehow, Sasha did not

find that reassuring in theslightest. “What kind ofdisagreement?” she retorted.

“Organisedbywhom?”Theyclimbed several steps andstepped through the openmetalgate.Teriyanpausedtolock it again behind them.The lamp threw waveringlight up the length of thedank,gloomyhallwayahead,andrevealeditdeserted.“A few friends,” Teriyan

saidvaguely.“Howdidyougetpast the

guards?” Sasha demanded,growing angry at the lack of

information. She rounded toface him as they strode, buthe grabbed her arm andpulledheronward.“Whatareyouupto?”“Don't the serrin say

patienceisavirtue?”Teriyanretorted. “Why don't youshowalittleandshutupforamoment?”“Great,” Sasha exclaimed

beneathherbreath.“Thenexttime you say that you'llexplain on the way, don't

wonder why I won't believeyou.”They climbed a longer

flight of stone steps andemerged into a guardroomholding another six cloakedfigures.Seatedonthefloorinone corner, tied and gagged,were four prison guards.Notverymany,itoccurredtoher.One of the cloaked figuresapproached to hand her herweapons.“Andreyis?” she

recognised,astherewasmorelighttopenetratetheshadowshere. The youngman lookedextremely apprehensive.Sasha took her blade, securein its scabbard, and shruggedoff her cloak to beginfastening it to the bandoleerat her back. “What's goingon?”AndreyislookedtoTeriyan

and back in confusion. “Hedidn'ttellyou?”“Nodamntime,Itellyou,”

Teriyan growled.He, and allthe men, seemed to beexpecting discovery at anymoment. “She'll just want toargue, let's move fast andarguelater.”“I'll stand here and argue

aboutwhat you're not tellingme!” Sasha exclaimed,finishing with her scabbardandbendingtostraptheknifeto her ankle. “I'm not goinganywhere until I know whatkind of hare-brained scheme

you've gone and hatchedwithoutmy…”“There,” Teriyan said to

Andreyis in exasperation, “Itoldyou,didn'tI?”“We're riding to the

Udalyn!” Andreyis saidbreathlessly. “We're riding tosavethemfromtheHadryn!”Sashastaredathim,aghast.

“Justlikethat?”“No, not just like that!”

Teriyan said sharply. “Youthink we're stupid? It's been

planned, girl! The only thingwe didn't count on was youbeing stupid enough to getcaught in Koenyg's damncharge…”“Planned? What's been

planned?Howmanymen?”“Lots,” Teriyan said

grimly.Sasha stared, her head

spinning. How could thishave happened without herknowledge? How couldTeriyanbeinvolved?Hewas

a leather worker and townseniorinBaerlyn,whatintheworld would he have to dowithsomeGoeren-yaiplot torescuetheUdalyn?ShelookedatAndreyis.He

nodded, anxiously. “Lots ofmen, Sasha,” he confirmed.“The Falcon Guard, forstarters. They said if we gotMaster Jaryd out, they'dcome.”Therewasaflickeringlight

emerging from another

passageway, and then threemen appeared, two Goeren-yai flanking a limpingwreckthat had once been ahandsomelordling.Jarydhadno sling for his arm, the leftforearm bound only withdirty bandages enfolding apairof short splints.His tornpants revealed bloodybandagesabouthisleft thigh.His face was mottled withbruising, one eye entirelyclosed, his lips swollen and

coveredwithdriedbloodandgrime. His hair was a messandtherewasabloodyswordinhishand.Teriyan stared at the

sword, then at Jaryd's tworescuers. “What the hellshappened?”hesaidsharply.The rescuers looked

uncomfortable. “There weretwo Tyree lordlings postedguard. We overpoweredthem. We…he asked for asword, we didn't think he'd

just…”“Ohgreat,”Teriyansaidin

exasperation.“Sowhatwasagreat and righteous rescue isnow the murder of innocentTyree lordlings! That'll help.Bothofthem?”“Just one,” Jaryd rasped.

Sasha did not recognise thevoice.Hisgoodeyewascold,emotionless.“MykelMellat.Itold him I'd kill him. Hedidn'tbelieveme.Hethoughtit was funny. Isn't laughing

now,ishe?”“Now look, Master

Verenthane,” Teriyangrowled, “I only agreed todrag you out of this placebecause your guardsmendemanded it and we need’em.You'regoing toput thatdamn sword away and shutyourdamnmouth,and…”Jaryd raised his blade at

Teriyan, an awkward, one-armed, one-legged stance.“I'm not taking orders from

you.Understand?”Teriyan snorted, not even

bothering to draw his ownblade.“Whatareyougoingtodo,hopafterme?”Sasha stepped between

them. “Jaryd.” Staring pastthe point of his blade. “I'msorry about Tarryn. I lost abrother too. I knowwhat it'slike.”“Your brother was a

prince,inarmour,onahorse,with a blade in his hand.

Minewas a little boywith aknife.”Therewasemotion inhis good eye now, and hisspeech,pastswollenlips,wasthick with fury. “I'm notgoingonyourdamncrusade.I'vementokill.”“Inthatcondition.”“Aye,” Jaryd muttered,

lowering the blade. “In thiscondition.”“You'reCommanderofthe

Falcon Guard,” Sasha saidharshly. “They've asked for

you to lead them. Had theynot,youwouldnotbefree.”“Iresign.”“Then you have no

honour.”Jaryd's good eye blazed.

“They murdered my littlebrother! Men I called myfriends!Men Igrewupwith,who professed their loyaltyand friendship to my face!And you accuse me ofdishonour?”“To meet dishonour with

dishonour is towash down ameal of corruption with amouthful of ashes.” TheGoeren-yai men present hadheard that line before. Jaryd,Sasha suspected, had not.“That's a quote fromTullamayne, the greatestGoeren-yaistoryteller.”“I know who Tullamayne

is.”Sullenly.“He was Udalyn,” Sasha

continued, forcefully. “Weride to save the Udalyn,

before they are wiped outentirely. Imagine thousandsof tragedies, Jaryd, each asgreat as you losing Tarryn.Many thousands. Your menasked for you, men who arevastly more experienced andwho could probably manageverywellwithoutyou.Didn'tthey?”She looked askance at

Teriyan. Teriyan nodded.“They say that with yourfatherdead,”he said, “you're

the Great Lord of Tyree.They won't accept whoeverthe lords appoint, not afterwhat theydid.Theywon'tbea party to that dishonour.That's what they said, eventheVerenthanes.”Jaryd stared at the

flagstones. Dirty hair fellabout his brow, his batteredface shadowed in theflickering lamplight. “If it'srevenge you want,” Sashacontinued, “think about how

manymoreofthemyoucouldkill if you waited until youwere healthy. With patience,your revenge could begreater.”“You think you'll survive

this?” Jaryd said bitterly.“Who'll join you? TheGoeren-yaihaveneverunitedfor anything. You'll besmashed, and me with you.Better that I kill who I cannow, before they realise I'veescaped.”

“Andalertthemtothatfactbefore we're away?” Teriyanretorted.“I'llputyouback inyourcellfirst.”Jaryd stared at the

flagstones for a moment.Thenhesnorted,withnorealemotion. “Fine.Have it yourway.”“Sword away,” Teriyan

commanded. “Hood up, keepyour head down, and not asound.”Jaryddidso,withoutconcern. Little seemed to

bother him, not death, norslaughter. Sasha feared forhim.They were walking from

the dungeons when Sasharealised that somehow, she'dbegun arguing for preciselythe thing she had beenarguing against. Lead anarmy to the Udalyn Valley?Her?Indefianceofherfather,to say nothing of Koenyg?But then…hermindbegan toaccelerate, like a lazy horse

building to a canter. WhatforceswouldKoenyghave iftheFalconGuardandsomeoftheBlackHammershad left?Nearly half of the Hammerswere Goeren-yai…and halftheRoyalGuard,also.Wouldsome of the Royal Guardcome? Would many of theirVerenthanecomrades?Wasiteven imaginable that she, thehot-tempered, troublemakinglittle girl in Krystoff'sshadow, would for a time at

least be commanding agreaterarmythanthekingorKoenyg would haveavailable? From dreaming inherprisoncell to this. Itwasoverwhelming.“Whyinallthehellsdidn't

anyone tell me?” she fumedin sudden temper, as shestruggled to grasp this newreality. The dank passagefrom the guardhouse gaveway to stairs, long andwinding. She took them

slowly, lest Jaryd be leftbehind. “What am I, just apiecetobemoveduponsomelowlandsboardgame?”“You,”Teriyansaidfirmly,

and with the edge of a manabout to losepatience, “wereourlasthopeofnothavingtodo this. Do you think for amoment that any man herewould willingly ride againstthe king's orders?We hopedyoucouldpersuadehim.Youneededtobeconvinceditwas

the only option for that tohave any chance ofworking.We're all sorry if you feeldeceived,butdamn it,girl, itwas the only way! Now, doyouwant to save theUdalynornot?”Sasha stared at him.

Familiarfeatures,afacefromher childhood, since the ageof eight, anyhow. A manshe'd grown upwith. He didnotbelonghere,inthisworld.Certainly Andreyis did not.

They were from her otherworld, with Kessligh, out intheLenaywilds.Or perhaps,it occurred to her, itwas shewho didn't belong here.Confusionthreatened.Couldsheturnherbackon

them now? Tell them it wasfoolish? That she would notlead a Goeren-yai army inwhat could certainly becomethe opening battle of a civilwar? If she did nothing, andthe Udalyn were destroyed,

there would be civil warregardless…only worse.Fighting to save a peoplefrom annihilation was anachievable goal, with a neartermendinsight.Fightingtoavenge an annihilated peoplewas not somuch a goal as astateofmind,andcoulddragon for centuries. She couldnot allow it. Sometimes,Kessligh had told her morethan once, you just have toact. If you wish for your

every action to be entirelyreasonable and thought out,youshallwishinvain.Whenaction is required, act.Inaction, in such a situation,isalwaysthewronganswer.“YouandI,”shesaid,with

a firm jab at Teriyan's chestastheyclimbed,“aregoingtohave to improve ourcommunication.”Evenabovegroundtheold

castlewasdark,dankandfullof shadows. Bare stone

passed silently underfoot—itwas difficult to believe thatsuchadesolate,soullessplacehadeverbeenaseatofpowerinLenayin.They passed through an

abandoned guardhouse andout into the yard beyond.Carts were lined beneathwhat had once been aprimitive stable, and menwere hauling crates ofproduce from their trays.Above, the old inner walls

loomedbarelyhalfashighasthe grand outer walls, thestonework worn andweatheredinplaces.The Goeren-yai men

walked calmly across thecourtyard, soldiers with theirhoods down, several haulingfull wineskins in prominentviewtopreventsuspicion—itwaswell known that officerswould send their men onunofficial “requisitionalvisits” to the castle storage

rooms. Men loading carts,hauling crates or tendinghorses paid this newprocession little heed as theyheaded toward the side exitthat had been cut in the oldstone for more direct accessto the barracks and stables.Sasha walked with her hoodup,andnogreatalarminthat,for the night was cold.Behind, she could hearJaryd's occasional grunt ofpain,buthemade reasonable

pace despite the limp. Twoguards on the small exitwaved them through withgreatnonchalance,andSashawasnotsurprised toseebothwereGoeren-yai.The street beyond was

narrow and appeared emptysave for a startled stray cat.Beyond the old inner walls,she could hear the echoingrumble of drums and theshouting of voices. Sashathrewaquestioningglanceup

atTeriyan.“Soros Square,” he said

grimly.“LordKraylissdiesagloriousdeath.”Sasha recalled the

execution stand…she'd snuckaway, once, to see what herminders had insisted no littlegirl had any business seeing.Foronce,they'dbeenright.“Nothing glorious in that

death,” she said quietly. “Inbattle, at least you have themercy of being surprised.

Isn't it a little late for anexecution?” It was aftermidnight,she'dgathered.“It took thecarpenters this

long to erect the platform,”Teriyan replied, peering intothe gloom as he strode, ahand on the hilt of his bladebeneath the cloak. “Nomatter, it creates a diversionfor us, in that, his deathprovesfarmoreusefulfortheGoeren-yaithanhislife.”It sounded a particularly

callous thing to say,even forTeriyan.“Yousethimupforthis,”Sashasaidbluntly.Teriyan grunted. “He set

himself up. We needed himout of the way, and weneeded a diversion…” heshrugged. “He gets hismartyrdom, we get a blindspace in which to organise,andmostofbrotherKoenyg'sloyal guards are busyexpecting trouble at theexecution.As ifwe'll all rise

up in protest over that foolgetting the axe.Koenyg seeseverything, but understandsnothing. We're headingnorth.”Organise?TheGoeren-yai?

Sasha stared up at his rangyheight, her suspicionmounting. Teriyan had beenmost insistent inaccompanying her on thistrip. Teriyan, who had manyfriends and contacts amongstGoeren-yai all over Lenayin.

AnyBaerlynmancouldhaveaccompaniedher,butTeriyanhadinsisteditshouldbehim.“How long have you beenplotting?” she asked, her jawtight.Teriyanthrewheraserious

look. “Look, Sasha…youdidn't think the concernedfolk across Lenayin wouldn'thavesomeonekeepinganeyeon you all these years?Whydoyou thinkyouhaven'thadcrowdsofthecuriousandthe

worshipful come clusteringabout the ranch or theSteltsyn all days? Theyneeded word on what youwereupto.Igaveit.Nothingmore.”But it had gained him

status, evidently. “Kesslighknew about this?” she askedtightly.Teriyanshrugged.“Alittle.

Neverseemedrealinterested,truthfully. Certainly heappreciated anything keeping

the crowds away.”Sasha felther head spin as several newpieces fell into place.Kessligh's displeasure withher occasional long nights inthe Steltsyn. Teriyan, on oneoccasion, sheltering her fromthe overly nosy questions ofone particular out-of-towner.He'd had his curiosityansweredlater,itseemed.“You didn't tell me,” she

muttered.“Sasha…”

“Damn it, I'd haveunderstood! I'm not stupid, Iknew thatyouand theothersdeflectedsomeattentionfromme…butyouwereusingme,weren't you? Planning abloody uprising, just likeKoenygsuspected…”“Oh aye, and how safe

would that have been, to tellyou everything?” Teriyanretorted. “Your brotherKoenyg sending his damnspies through the Steltsyn

everyfewweeks…welearnedtospotthem,youknow,evenif you never did. Thosemerchants,traders,wanderingminstrels, even some of thedamn pilgrimage priests, allfishingforstoriesaboutyou.”“They weren't all working

for Koenyg,” Sasha saiddisbelievingly. She feltsuddenly uncomfortable.Could they have been?“Travellers gossip, it's notlike every travellerwho asks

questions is pocketingKoenyg'sgold.”“And that's been the

differencebetweenthetwoofus for the last twelve years,”Teriyan said firmly. “Youcould afford to think that, upon your hill with yourlegendary warrior to watchover you. The rest of uslearned to be suspicious.There's a whole stack ofrumours and stories aboutyou moving about the towns

atanygiventime,Sasha.Youdon't think Koenyg wasn'tlistening to all of them?Youdon't think that at the firstsuspicion you were going tobe a threat to the lords, bygiving the Goeren-yaisomeone to rally around, hewouldn'thavecomedownonBaerlynlikeanavalanche?”“He'd never have dared,”

Sasha retorted, eyeing ashadowy figure moving onthe dark road ahead. “Any

moveagainstmeorKesslighwould have achieved exactlywhat he didn't want—angrymobs of Goeren-yai lookingforblood.”“Aye, well maybe you

could take that risk.Me, I'vegotfamilyinBaerlyn,andI'mresponsible for all the otherfamiliestoo.”Hetoowatchedthe dark figure ahead. Itvanisheddownanalley.“Thelords thought you more of arisk than Koenyg did, they

were twisting his arm all thetime…shit, you saw whatKumaryn tried. They knowthatiftheGoeren-yaievergotworked up, the lords’ headswould be the first on theblock—most Goeren-yairespect the king, but we'vegotnotimeforlords.“So we kept feeding them

all this nonsense aboutKrayliss, and how hewas sopopular.Ididitmyselfafewtimes,justmadeupsomepile

of manure about the bravedeedsofLordKraylisstotellsome traveller when he wasnear facedown in his ale.Hespreads it to the next town,andpeople talk, and thenextthing you know, PrinceKoenyg's hearing talk ofgreat, heroic stories aboutLord Krayliss spreadingthroughValhanan.Betteryet,LordKraylisshearsthemtoo,and like any foolwho thinksthe stars circle his arse, he

believes thepeople lovehim.Soon enough, he believes itsomuchhepicksafightwithHadryn, kills Great LordRashyd, and threatens theking with Goeren-yairebellion. So while all thenobility's got their frilly laceknickers in a twist overKrayliss, they ignore youcompletely…or almost.Workedatreat,huh?”Sasha stared at him

incredulously. “They ignore

me?You…youmakeitsoundas if…as if I'm some kindof…Idon'tknow…”“Goeren-yai hero?”

Teriyanpeereddownthedarkalley into which the figurehad entered. Within, therewere only shadows. Heshrugged. “Maybe. All Iknew was better you thanKrayliss.Someofussawthisday coming, Sasha. A daywhenwe'dneedsomeone theGoeren-yai could look up to.

Prince Koenyg never reallybelieved it could be you, nottruly…Goeren-yai never hadwomen leaders before, itseemed a stretch. And whoknows,hemightyetberight.We'llsee.”“I'm not a damn leader!”

Sashahissedathim.“I'mnotsome piece on your boardgame to be moved about atyourleisure…”“Kessligh didn't teach you

nothing, did he?” Teriyan

gave her a contemptuousstare. “We're all just pieceson some damn board game,girl. Either you play, or youget played. You choose.You're my friend, and I'msorry you feel betrayed. Butmy first loyalty is to mypeople.Iwashopingthat'dbeyourfirstloyaltytoo.”“M'Lady,” said another

manmovinguponhersideasthey rounded a tight bendbetween stone walls. From a

high window, a babysqualled. “I have some menmovingtorecovertheUdalynchildren. The Princess Sofyassistedusinfindingtheminthe palace. Should we bringthem?”Sasha looked up at him—

way up, for this man waseven taller than Teriyan.Goeren-yai, despite lackingthe spirit-mask, like Teriyan.And recently familiar,somehow…hereyeswidened,

recalling the Royal Guardlieutenant who had let herinto the Saint AmbellionTemplewithDaryd.“Is it a good idea to bring

children?” she asked warily.“Surelythey'llbesafeenoughhere?”“There's no telling that,”

Teriyan said darkly. Theywere approaching the SorosLibrary now, its archwayslooming on the left abovedark, clustered rooftops.

“They're proof of bad thingshappening in the valley,someone might decide themmore conveniently disposedof.Besides,wemayhaveuseof someone who knowsUdalyn lands from the inside—the boy may not speakLenay,buthecandrawmaps.In an assault, that could savelives.”“TheyareUdalynchildren,

M'Lady,” the lieutenantadded. “The hardship shall

nottroublethem.”Sashadidnot like the idea

of taking children on such aride. This, she realised, wasone of those commanddecisionsthatshehadalwayswondered if she would havethe strength to make forherself. Many more wouldsurely follow. She was nolonger poised upon the pointof no return. That point wasnow behind her. Therealisation made her dizzy,

with fear, excitement and adozen other things that shehadnonamefor.“See to the children,” she

told the lieutenant. “Perhapstry to find the pony theyarrived on, it shall make thejourneyeasierforthem.”“Aye, M'Lady,” said the

lieutenant, and made straightfor the side road past thelibrary, vanishing quickly inthenight.“Hisname'sAlyn,Koenyg

tossed him from the guard,”Teriyan said in a low voice.“Koenyg's done that quite abit lately.Gained us awholebagofrecruits,hehas.”Cut from theRoyalGuard

for letting someone into thetemple to visit the king. Thedisgracewouldlieheavilyonthe man's shoulders, Sashaknew, whatever thecircumstances. A man sodesperate to reclaim hishonour might do crazy,

reckless things. And shewondered how many morepeople would lose far morethanjusttheirhonourbecauseof decisions shewouldmakenow, or tomorrow, or in thedaysafterthat.

The stables were less activethan on previous occasions,yet still busy enough forcover.“Befast,”Teriyansaid

in a low voice to the group,“word will reach Koenygsoon enough, the executionswill only distract him for solong.”Sasha saddled fast and

rejoinedthegroupinfrontofthe stables. As theyapproached the guards at themain gate, Soros Squarebecamevisible.Greatfireslitthefourcornersaboutalarge,raised platform, swarmedabout by as large a mass of

people Sasha could everrecall having seen.Light andshadow flung far and wideacross the grand arches andtowers of surroundingbuildings, and the jaggedlinesofpikemen'sceremonialstaffsmadea sharp, teethlikerow against the glare offlame.About the crowd's

perimeter there were manysoldiers,andevenmoreupontheplatformitself.Beforethe

platform, there was raised alargeVerenthanestaronatallpole. It loomed overproceedings like a watchfulguardian, invoking the nameof its gods upon all thatoccurred within its shadow.The symbolism both chilledher and filled her withexasperatedrage.Koenyghadno clue. Perhaps LordKraylissdiddeservethisfate,and perhaps the majority ofGoeren-yai would not grieve

forhim.But to takehisheadbeneath the shadow of aVerenthane star? One couldnot have conceived a greaterprovocation ifone's intentionwastostartarebellion.“Identify yourselves!”

called a guard from the gate,evidently a little bored withhis job and far moreinterested in the spectacleupon the square. The crowdon the platformwas clearingnowand thedrums increased

their pace. Of the victims,Sasha's vantage did notprovideagoodview.“I know them,” said

another guard as the columnarrived. “Let them through.”AGoeren-yaiman,SashasawasPegsensedhertensionanddancedsidewaysalittle.“Hells no!” demanded the

first man with typical Lenaybluntness. “Identity of allpresent,thenpass!”“I said I know them!”

countered the Goeren-yai ashiscomradeturnedtostareathim in amazement. Theprotocolswerewellknown.“Are you completely

bloody stupid, y'daftValhanangoose?”“My name's Blossom,”

Teriyan said, all hard-facedaggression. “And so's mycomrades’.”“Aye,” said the next man,

“minetoo.”“Andmine.”

Horses jostled the guard,who stared around inamazement. Some of hiscomrades came over, heavilyarmed, yet not overlyalarmed. There were at leasttwenty—Rayen men thisnight, of theBlackHammerscompany, not Falcon Guard,oritwouldhavebeenjusttoodamn easy. The first guardlooked as though hesuspected somekindof joke.All Lenay men loved jokes,

particularly those that madeanothermanlookstupid.“Oh aye, Blossom and

Blossom…”henoddedup atthem.“Suitsyouboth,Imustsay.Would someone tell mewhatthebloodyhellsisgoingon?”“Listen you,” Teriyan told

him gruffly, “we got aGoeren-yai lord getting axedonthestageyonder,Isuggestyou don't give us any crapjustnow,understand?”

“Aye,” the guard said,suddenly all soberseriousness.“Aye,Ihearyou,friend. I don't like it muchmyself, but I've a job to do,don'tI?”“Aye,” Teriyan said

bitterly.“JollyPrinceKoenygdidafairjobonustodaytoo,didn't he? You take yourdamnjob,andstickitupyourarse.We'releaving.”He slammed heels to his

horse's sides, the other men

following, then Sasha andAndreyis racing after as theguards swore, reached forweapons, yelled in protest…and yet did nothing to stopthem.Thentheywererunningat a canter along the pavedroad toward the Baen-Tarcliff,Sashaprayingthattherewould be no whistle ofarrowfire from the rampartsin pursuit as guards yelledthat instruction up from theground. None came and the

group slowed as theyapproachedthesharpdrop-offandtheviewofhillsidelightsbelow.It had been a masterful

performance by Teriyan,Sasha realised as theydescended.Hehadplayedthedisgruntled, hot-headedGoeren-yai warrior to thehilt…and in truth, it hadprobably taken very littleacting. Even a Verenthaneguardhadreasontoagreethat

such a Goeren-yai hotheadmightbe justifiablyunhappy.In Lenayin, it was unwise tostandbetweenamanwhofelthis honour slighted, andwherehewished togo.Evenmore, such righteous furieswere respected, as were themen who wielded them…solongas thecausewas feltbyall to be just. Teriyan hadmade the poor guards feelashamed of their duty,inflicting yet another

indignity upon a very angry,very righteous warrior. Theincident would no doubt bereported immediately…but atleast they were clear of thewalls without a peppering ofarrowshafts.Givenevents inthe square, she guessed noonehadhadthehearttofire.They arrived at the

paddocks to a confusion ofmanoeuvres in the dark. Adistance wide of the tents,horsemen were gathering

amidst a dance of torchlightand far-flung shadow.Already there were severalhundred and, even as Sashaarrived upslope of thegathering, many more werecrossing from the tentcity tojoin them.Fromamongst thetents, there carried the soundofshoutingargumentandthealarmed demands of officers.Somemenwent running andsome horsemen went tearingoff toward Baen-Tar,

doubtless to inform Koenyg.Therewaslittletime.“If we're going to move,”

Sasha said, “we'd best movenow before the Ranash andBanneryd mobilise.” Herheart was thumping withunpleasantanticipationasshesurveyed this sceneofarmedmenandhorsesbytorchlight.In the confusion of shadowsandlight,itdidnotseemreal.“They'd not dare attack a

force so strong, surely?”

Andreyis ventured, staringwide-eyed and breathless atthe scene. Sasha forcedherself to calm—if she werealarmed, how wouldAndreyisfeel?“Not directly,” Teriyan

saidgrimly,“andnotsolongas we have such greaternumbers.Butthey'llharassusall the way to the Hadrynborder.”“Aye,” Sasha agreed.

Anotherclusterofhorseswas

cantering across, perhapssixty strong. Behind themanother formed,menwaitingfor their comrades to saddleup. Bewildered argumentsraged, visible in the camplight. Evidently manyVerenthane men hadn'tknown it was coming. Sashawas further astonished. She'dnever suspected any Lenaysoldier could keep so large asecret so well. “We'll wait amoment longer. We don't

want to leave a trail ofstragglersfortheRanash.”“Sashandra Lenayin!”

criedarestlessvoicefromthemidst of the assembledhorsemen. “We werepromised SashandraLenayin!”A chorus of loud

agreement rose from manyothers. “Is she present?”yelled another. “If not, we'llrideonBaen-Taritselftofreeher!” Another rousing reply,

filled with anger. More thanfive hundred horse stamped,jostled and snorted in thetorchlight, feeding off theirriders’ mood. Sasha sensedthat things might finally beapproaching a boil. They'dbeen patient for so long.They'd watched the Taneryncontingentslaughteredon thelower slopes, and yet donenothing. Now, they felt theirtimehadarrived.Themenofthe ancient ways would not

bedenied.Sasha found Teriyan

glaring at her. “Go!” heurged,withahardnodofhishead. Sasha felt as if frozen,unable to move. Real feargripped her, worse than thefear of bloodthirstynortherners or Cherrovanintent on spilling her blood.Those,shewastrainedtodealwith. This turned her wholeworld upside down. It wasone thing to threaten

rebellion, quite another toactually, finally arrive at themomentofpartaking.Kessligh, she thought

despairingly, her heartthudding hard against herribs. He'd been right, onceagain. She truly hadn'tunderstood where her casualpassions might take her. Adaughter of Lenayin, ridingforthbeforearebelliousbandof Goeren-yai and declaringintentions entirely at odds

withherfather'swill.Quite unexpectedly, a line

fromanoldserrinversecametomind.“Thatwas the river.This is the sea.” She'd neverseenthesea.Themanyriversof Lenayin flowed into it,eventually, on their long,winding journey into thelowlands.Abodyofwatersovastwasunimaginabletoher.And yet it existed,irrespectiveofher ignorance.Somewhere out there—vast,

deepandblue.Suddenly, she felt calmer.

Thedestinationwasoutthere,whether she knew its natureor not. Surely it existed, justlike the sea. It was only shewho was uncertain. Thedestinationwouldtakecareofitself.She touched her heels to

Peg's sides, urging him to awalk.He broke into a canterinsteadandshepulledon thereins, slowing her reluctant,

impatient friend to asideways, head-tossingprance.Themen'sshoutsdiedaway,eyes settlinguponher,many with frowningcuriosity, seeing her for thefirst time. Spirits knew whatthey'dexpectedfromthetalesspun about her. She pushedthehood fromher head to atleast offer that much proof.From behind, there came thethunder of yet more horsesapproaching, swelling their

ranks further. Perhaps sheshould wait for them all toarrive…but then, she mightneverstart.“Men of Lenayin!” she

called. Her voice did notsound right, and shewondered if it carried acrossall those gathered. And thewords themselves were astale, dull form of address,surely? Although it wascertainly better than “fellowGoeren-yai”…and suddenly,

new words formed in herhead.“Somewillsaythisisarebellion!” she plowed on,before the inspiration coulddesert her. “Some will saythatwerideagainst theking!TheywillsaythatweseektosetLenayinatwarwithitself,and set Verenthane andGoeren-yai at each other'sthroats! But they will bewrong!“We ride to save Lenayin

from ruin! Lenayin must be

saved from the hatred andbigotry of the north, orwherever it should arise!Lord Krayliss offered you avision of a kingdom of theGoeren-yai, free fromVerenthanes, serrin andlowlanders. I offer you nosuch vision! The Lenayin Ioffer you is a Lenayin ofpeace, not of hatred! Evennow, there are Verenthanebrothers among us who ridenot for division, nor for

hatred, but for all Lenayin,unitedtogetherinfriendship!“IwelcomemyVerenthane

brothers! I remind all whoride here that wherever myheart may lie, my blood isVerenthane and I love myfamily yet! Should any manwho ride here tonight do sofor hatred, or should heconsider all Verenthanes tobe the enemy, then I wouldtell that man that he is notwelcome in this party! If he

wishestoridetonightforlove—for loveof theUdalyn, forlove of tolerance andfriendship between allLenays,andfor the loveofaunited Lenayin beneath asingle king, then I say comewithme,andnoneofusshallsuffer in silence any more!Whatdoyousay?”The answering roar

astonished her in its power.Men clenched their fists intheair,or thrust their swords

skyward, shouting withvisceral passion. Sasha felt aflush of power through herbody, chills tinglingbothhotand cold, her heart poundinginherears.Asifsuddenly,inthatmoment, she could havetaken on the combinedHadryn armies single-handedly and won. Shefoughttheurgetogrinlikeanidiot.Agirlcouldgetusedtothis.“Form up!” she heard a

yell as the cheering died…and looked to find CaptainTyrun of the Falcon Guardcoming across the line at acanter, raised in his stirrups.“Form up, share the torches.We've distance to coverbeforethesunrises!”Sasha set off after him,

headingdownhillasmountedsoldiers wheeled and yelled,finding comrades andsuperiors in the darkness.She, Tyrun, Andreyis and

Teriyan positionedthemselves at the fore,watching the confusion andhoping there were not toomany injuries before theyevenbegantomove.“Where's Jaryd?” she

thoughttoaskTyrun.“Iputafewgoodmenwith

him,” Tyrun replied,surveying the scene withunreadable eyes. “To makesure he stays in the saddle,and to show the rest of the

guardsmen that he's here.How do you judge hiscondition?”“Hisbody'samess,”Sasha

said shortly. “But that's nottheworstofit.”Tyrun nodded shortly.

“He'sastrongyoungman,hisbody will heal. About theotherwounds,timewilltell.”Sasha stared at the torch-

lit, surging mass of horsesanddidsomefastsumsinherhead. Eleven provinces at

Rathynal. Roughly fivehundred people percontingent. Half of thosewere nobles, including ladiesand children. The other halfsoldiers—about two hundredand fifty per contingent.Maybe half of those, fromevery province but the threenorthern ones, were Goeren-yai. Which made…maybenine hundred men? Itcertainly looked close to athousand,butitwasdarkand

there was no way to tell forsure. Had every Goeren-yaisoldier come? And what ofthe Baen-Tar garrisoncompanies?“AlltheFalconGuardhave

come?” she asked CaptainTyrun.“Aye,” said Tyrun.

Verenthanes too, that meant.Tyrunwasherehimself,afterall. That was another fivehundred.“And theBlackHammers,

doyouknow?”shepressed.“Uncertain. Captain

Akyrman will not come, butmany of hisGoeren-yaiwill.Some of those said theirVerenthane friends mayfollowlater,oncetheyrealisewhat'shappened.”“We'll have a straggling

tail on this army no matterwhatwedo,”Sashaobservedglumly.“Aye,” Tyrun agreed. “No

helpingit.Besthopetheyride

fast.”“RoyalGuard?”“A few. Perhaps two

hundred. Leaving Baen-Tarundefended is a big thing,evenlotsofGoeren-yaiwon'tdoit.”Sasha nodded, biting her

lip. Say two hundred…andtwo fifty from the BlackHammers, and five hundredFalcon Guard…She blinkedin astonishment. “We'renearlytwothousandstrong?”

“Aye,”saidTyrun.“Lookslike.” From back toward thetent city, there was moreshouting and a chaos ofgallopinghorses,millingmenand bewildered officers. Apair of men on horses cameacross in front, close enoughfor Sasha to overhear theircriestothecolumn.“Wherethebloodyhellare

youlotoffto?”“Udalyn Valley! Want to

come?”

“To fight for the Udalyn?ButI'mVerenthane!”“So's he!” Some laughter

above the thunder of hoovesandjanglingharnesses.“Yeah,I'mVerenthane!”“Sowhy'reyougoing?”“My friends are going!

Whatunityoufrom?”“FydenWildcats!You?”“YethulynBears!You like

theHadryn?”“Hellsno!”“Well, come and have a

bloodyfightthen!”The cheers and cajoling

continued, the twoVerenthanes paralleling thecolumn downhill into thedark.Sasha shook her head in

disbelief. “Damn it,” shemuttered to Tyrun. “I'veabsolutely no idea what I'mdoing.”“I'm used to that,” said

Tyrun,withthefaintestsmilebeneathhisbushymoustache.

They galloped to the leadof the column, then turneddownhill toward the nearestopen gate out of a paddockand onto the road. Thecolumn followed, a great,creaking, thudding mass ofhorseandarmour,thelightofmany torches casting crazyshadowsacrossthehillside.Before long, severalRoyal

Guardsmen, led byLieutenant Alyn, canteredpast to take the vanguard…

one, Sasha saw, flying theroyal purple and green. Thebanners of the Falcon GuardandtheBlackHammerswerealso flying.Thedark treelineapproachedandthenenfoldedthem in the flickering,dancing shadow of firelighton trunks and leaves. Fromsomewhere behind came ahaunting blast of trumpet,once,andthenagain.“Ranash,” said Tyrun, his

moustache twisting as he

considered its import. Therefollowed an answering callwith different notes. “Andthat one is Banneryd. Theyareforming.”“Howmanydoyouthink?”

Sashaasked.“The Ranash took a few

losses against the Taneryn,but not many. Before, theywere two hundred strong.Banneryd are not somany—onlyahundredtwenty.“Sofew,”Sasharemarked,

thinkinghard.“Banneryd's Great Lord

Cyan did not come forRathynal,”saidTyrun.“Somesay he was otherwisepreoccupied with theHadryn…probably that'swheretheotherBannerydandRanash soldiers are too. Inthe Udalyn Valley with theHadryn.”Sasha rubbed her brow.

“WhydidnoonenoticeGreatLord Cyan's absence until

now?”sheasked.Tyrunshrugged.“Rathynal

isjustbeginning.Wethoughtperhapshewaslate.”“So we shall have at least

three hundred and twentyhorsemenchasingusshortly,”Sashasummarised.“Aye,” Tyrun agreed, as

matter-of-fact as a farmerdiscussing the season's crop.It was a great relief to havesuch a wise, steady presenceat her side. “And certainly

more,oncethekingsendshissummons. Neysh will likelyrespondwith full companies,as Great Lord Parabys owesPrinceKoenyghisplaceafterfamilytumultsthere.Andhe'snot the only one. PrinceKoenyg crafts allegianceswell. I'dguesshecouldhavenearly a thousandmen underarmswithintwodays.Addtothatthenobilitythemselves…perhaps a third are in goodconditiontofight.”

“Nomore than a quarter,”Sasha disagreed, sourly.“Some didn't come equippedandthere'slittlecampinggearon their horses. They wereexpecting lordlyaccommodation, not a warparty. They're also short onarmour and half can't fightwellanyhow.”Tyrun might have smiled

in the dancing shadows.“Aye,” was all he said. Heseemed a man who reserved

judgment,wheneverpossible.No doubt one learned toreserve one's opinions, facedwith the open disapproval ofnobles who resented one'shumbleorigins.“So maybe five hundred

nobles who can fight. Butthat'stwodays’headstartforus,”Sashareasoned.“Less,” said Tyrun with

certainty.“PrinceKoenygcangather some men on themove.”

Sasha nodded, thinkinghard. Speed was key, thatmuch was obvious. It wouldbe the kind of manoeuvringKessligh had done somasterfully during the GreatWar,thirtyyearsbefore—fastthrusts of mounted warriorsacross rugged terrain. Theywere,sheknew,awfullylargebootstofill.“I'dguess,M'Lady,”Tyrun

continued, “that the northernunits may form a skirmish

party, or several skirmishparties, to delayour progressnorth. Our flanks should becareful and watch forambush.”“If we're too defensive,

we'llnevergetthereintime,”Sasha muttered. “TheUdalyn's wall is strong, butthe Hadryn have siegeweapons.That,andI'dliketohit them hard before theyhavetimetoprepareforusatthe valley mouth. If we're

quick, we can trap theminsidebeforetheyknowwe'recoming.”“Aye, M'Lady,” said

Tyrun, with the first hint ofsatisfactioninhistone.Sashagavehimacuriouslook.“Why are you here,

Captain?For all I know, thiscould endwith all our necksjoining Lord Krayliss on theblock. No one would havethought less of you had youdeclinedtoride.”

“A majority of my menvoted to come,” Tyrun saidsimply. “The Falcon Guardhas a tradition of majorityvotes.SoIcame.”Sasha was surprised. She

had expected to hearsomethingaboutnoblecausesand compassion for hisGoeren-yaibrothers.“I hope they don't expect

further votes in the midst ofbattle,”shesaidwarily.Tyrun shook his head.

“That's not how it works,M'Lady. One vote, for anysuicidal stupidity, then allmustfolloworders.”“Your own Tyree lords

may have your head even ifthe king doesn't,” Sashaadded.“Master Jaryd is theGreat

Lord of Tyree,” Tyrun saidflatly.“The other lords claim

otherwise.”“They raise the taxes to

pay our wages,” Tyrun saiddryly, “and to forge ourweapons,tendourhorsesandupkeep our barracks. Those,they own. Our honour, theydo not. When this is over,they can disband the entirecompanyiftheywish,butI'dlike to see them try and findreplacements when wordspreads of what they did toFamily Nyvar. This is a dayofinfamyforTyree,M'Lady.But it shall not be a day of

infamy for the FalconGuard.”It was said with the same

dry calculation with whichCaptain Tyrun saideverything…and yet, Sashacould not help but think thatit was the most impassionedthingshe'dyetheardthemansay.“Well,” she said after a

moment, “I'm glad you'rehere. I'mgoing toneedsomeassistance, Tyrun. Kessligh

taught me much, but…Ihaven'tdonethisbefore.”“Aye, M'Lady,” said

Tyrun.

To ride at night through anypart of Lenayin was no easything, for roads were rarelystraight and level, andtorchlight was of limitedserviceafterthesettingofthemoon. Thankfully there was

plenty of oil for the torchesand the wind was not toostrongtoweakentheflame.Itswirled, however, cold andoccasionally misty,threateningrain.These and other thoughts

crowded Sasha's mind.Before, on such rides, shecould relax in theconfidencethatKesslighwouldmaketheright decisions, now sheworried and fretted. Thesensation was most

unpleasant, made worse bylack of sleep. How didanyone learn to handle suchpressures as effortlessly asKessligh had managed? Shecouldnotimagine.Shortly, the road emerged

from the forest onto theoutlying Baen-Tar farmland,where the land lay relativelyflatbetweenruggedhillsides.The stone walls offarmhouses glowed dimly inthe passing ofmany torches,

displaying shutters firmlylatched against the dark. Itseemed unreal to be ridingsuch a path at night.Torchlight did not reach thesurrounding hills, merelycaressingthelowerfringesoftheir forested slopes. Above,the ridgelines were almostinvisible against the blacksky, featureless save formoving patches of starsthroughthecloud.Anewhorsemovedupon

her right and Sasharecognised Andreyis's facebeneathhishood.“Thatwasagoodspeech,”

he said, his voice barelycarrying above the ploddinghooves, creakingharness andsputtering wind. He soundedanxious. “You always saidyouneverlikedspeeches.”“I can assure you I didn't

like that one.” She gazed atthe distant, dancing shadowofafarmhouseandwondered

if its occupants would cheeror curse them, were theyrousedfromtheirsleep.Thenshelookedatheroldfriendinsudden concern. This was awar party and Andreyis hadnotyetpassedtheWakening.“We'llhavetofindyousomemail.”“You're not wearing any,”

Andreyisretorted.“Slowsmedown. If I lose

myspeedandbalance,I'venoadvantage left. Safer not to

wear any.” It troubled her,Andreyisbeingthere.Hewasfromher peaceful life on thehillside with her horses. Ofcoursehe'dalwaystrainedforwarfare, as all Lenay mendid, but she'd never thoughtto be present when he firstput those skills to the test.And she'd certainly neverthought tobeincommand.Itscared her worse thananythinghadscaredhersofarin this night's young

rebellion.“Sasha, I'm…I just…

wantedtosaythatI'msorry.”Andreyis looked even moreanxious now. As ifconcerned, in a way that herarely had been before, ofarousinghertemper.“Teriyansaidyouwereangryathim.IknewthathewastellingotherGoeren-yaiaboutyou,buthetold me not to say anything,andsodidmyfather…”“What did he say?” Sasha

asked.“Teriyan,Imean?”“He…” Andreyis took a

deep breath, and glancedaside. “Folks were curious,Sasha. I mean, I've forgottenthe number of times someout-of-towner stopped by thehouse on some business andwanted to askmeonly aboutyou.IalwaystoldthemIonlyworked at the ranch, that Ididn't know you real well…you know, just to shut themup.Buttheyallgossiped,and

that gossip went all acrossLenayin.”“I know,” Sasha said

quietly. “I know theygossiped.Iknowtheywanteda royal Goeren-yai. Therewas lotsof talk thatKrystoffwas the first. Some said thatthespiritshadtakenhim,andturnedhishearttotheancientways. When he died, and Ileft to live with Kessligh,many felt that spirit hadpassedontome.TheTaneryn

say it's the will of theSynnich. Everyone has theirownlittlelegendorprophecy.Doubtless if I die, they'llinventsomenewone.”“Sasha, don't blame

Teriyan.Hewasn'tspyingonyou, he never told anypersonal details oranything…”“Littleenoughheknowsof

my personal life,” Sashasnorted.“Aye, well…” Andreyis

fidgeted with a handful ofrein. “But someone had totalktothem.Goeren-yaifromall over Lenayin werefascinated, Sasha. They'd allhave turned up on yourdoorstep if Teriyan andJaegar hadn't done sometalking.It'snoteasyforthemsometimes,youknow,havingyou and Kessligh in town. Imean…Igettoldallthetime,how Baerlyn ceased to be anormal town when you two

arrived. Most are pleased,don't get me wrong…but it'sjustdifferent,that'sall.”“You didn't talk to any

gossip mongers?” Sashaaskedhimwithafirmgaze.Andreyis blinked. “And

tell them what? That youshave your legs with ahunting knife and candlewax?” Sasha bit back a grinand tried hard to lookannoyed. Unsuccessfully,because Andreyis saw and

smiled, exasperatedly. “Idon't know what these idiotswant, Sasha. Teriyan does.Theywanttoknowsigns,youknow…that you can quotesome Tullamayne, that youmakethespiritsign, thatyouwear the tri-braid and preferwine to ale. Someholy folksthink they can read thespirits’will inlittlethings…Idon't know, what coloursocksyouwear.Stupid stuff.Teriyan doesn't like it either,

buttheytellfolksthisstuffsoBaerlyndoesn'tbecomesomedamn pilgrimage town forcrazy Goeren-yai hoping tocatch a glimpse. It keepsthem satisfied so they don'thavetocomeandfindoutforthemselves. Which wouldn'thave made Prince Koenygrealhappy,I'dguess.”Sasha breathed a deep,

dark breath. “It's honeycombwax,”shesaidonanimpulse.“Candle wax hurts too

much.”Andreyis gave a snort of

laughter. “Somepeople thinkyou're a tomboy, but I knowbetter. You're still just apampered princessunderneath, with all yourgirlie things in yourwashingstall…”“I happen to dislike body

hair in the wrong places!”Sasha retorted. “What'swrongwiththat?”“I counted nine different

soaps and oils,” Andreyiscounteredaccusingly.“ItakemyluxurieswhereI

cangetthem.”“Exactly.”“DidTeriyantellthemthat

too?” Sasha asked, with alingeringsidewayslook.“How could he have? I

didn't tell him. Besides, hewas trying to protect youfrom that kind of prying,Sasha. People were going topry anyway, you being who

you are. Teriyan and Jaegarjust tried tomanage it, that'sall.”Sasha sighed, heavily.

Ahead,thevanguard'storcheslit a wavering, ghostly lineacross the paddocks—atreeline, where the forestclosedinoncemore.“Alythiaaccused me of tryingdesperately to fit in wherenone would willingly acceptme,” she said sombrely.Andlaughed bitterly. “Isn't that

justlikeasister,toknowjustwheretosticktheneedlesoithurts themost? I justwantedto fit in, Andrey. I wantedfriendsandaplacetobelong.I didn'twant to be a burden,ora…apilgrimageattraction.Justaperson,youknow?”Andreyis smiled at her,

with friendly exasperation.“Sasha…you don'tunderstand, do you? Lookbehindyou.”Shelookedoverher shoulder. A vast column

of horses, torchlit across thedark, rolling fields. Cloakedand armoured men in theirhundreds.“Youdidfitin.TheGoeren-yai are followingyou, Sasha. Teriyan spreadword about you and menliked what they heard. Theyalwayshave,eveninBaerlynfolks think you can walk onclouds…”“Don't be ridiculous!”

Sasha said incredulously.Thinking of all the ribbings

she'dreceivedatthehandsofBaerlyn men and womenalike, the good-humouredslander, the teasingaboutherhair and how she showeredfar more affection on horsesthanyoungmen,andhowallthose same young men weretoo frightened to flirt withher…“I'mnotbeingridiculous!”

Andreyis protested. “Wedon't do hero worship realwell,Sasha…Goeren-yaimen

are proud, they don't bow atthe feet of others easily. I'myour friend, Sasha. I'vewrestled you down thehillside and rubbed dirt inyour hair. But I'm not ridinghere tonight just becauseyou're my friend. I'm ridinghere because I'm Goeren-yaiand the Goeren-yai need aleader. They've chosen thatleader to be you. And Icouldn't think of anyone I'dratherfollow.”

Sashagazedathim,acoldgust of wind threatening toremove the hood from herhead.Tearsprickledhereyes,and she reached and graspedAndreyis's hand with herown. “I don't know if Ideserve that trust, Andrey,”shesaidquietly.“I'maspoilt,self-centredbrat.”Andreyis grinned. “Aye,

youare.”Sashalaughed.Sillyof her to have expected anyotherreply.“Butyoucarefor

people. And you don't thinkyourself better than others,despite your talents. LordKraylissdidneither.Whichiswhytheyfollowyou,andnothim.”

ATDAWNTHEYCAMETOTHE

VARYSH RIVER, whichmarkedtheboundarybetweenBaen-Tar and Valhanan.Water levels were low,typical of late summer, andSasha rode to the far bankwith barely a splash to wether boots. Soldiers

dismountedalongbothbanksto lead their horses over therocks and gravel of theexposedriverbedtodrink.Sashawas relieved to find

thatmen had rations, for shehad none. Her vanguardshared some bread and fruitwith her as she stood andflexedherlegs,watchingPeggrazeamidstthethickbushesthat overgrew the riverbank.Birds chorused against thepale overcast sky, as hooves

clattered on rock and menconversedinvarioustongues,weaponsandarmourclinkingastheysatandate,orbrieflywashed.Finishing her breakfast,

Sasha walked to a bettervantage on the water's edge.So many men and horses.They lined the riveras farasshecouldseetotheupstreamand downstream bends. Linecompanymen,Lenayin'sbestequipped and most fearsome

warriors. Not necessarily thebest trained, nor even thehighest standard, given thelifelong training that evensimple farmers received. Butthese were the men sheneeded, more than commonvillagers. These men hadhorses.Still, she reflected, she

wouldhavetogetsomeonetocount heads, just forcertainty, and see if thenumber came anywhere near

the two thousand of herearlier estimation. LieutenantAlyn and the vanguard hadfollowed her to the water'sedge, she saw. They made arough, informal line,separating her from thesurroundingmen and horses.Itmadeheruncomfortable,asdid many of the looks thatcame her way from thesurrounding, mostly Goeren-yai soldiers. Some gazed inamazement, others in simple

curiosity. Yet others wereunreadable. Men of Lenayinwere not easily impressed,she knew. AndKessligh hadtoldheroften that respect, inLenayin, was no one'sbirthright. She took somecomfort in Andreyis's wordsthepreviousnightandyetsheremainedunconvinced.Manyof these men needed noconvincingoftherightnessoftheircause,but itwould takeplenty more than a pretty

speech to convince many ofthem of her, no matter whoheruman.Somemenperformedtaka-

dans—as all soldiers wouldtrytodothematleastonceaday,underanycircumstances.Sasha settled for herstretching regimen—taka-dans could wait for a littlemore privacy. A soldier inFalcon Guard uniformapproached, hair braided andears ringed. He gained

permission from LieutenantAlyn, then squatted beforeSasha,whosatuponaflattishrock with legs splayed,grasping one boot with bothhands.“Another thirty-five have

joined from neighbouringvillages, M'Lady,” he toldher.“Othersarespreadingtheword, there is talk ofhundreds more arrivingshortly. It would be manymore, but for the shortage of

horses.Someare saying theywillwalktothevalley.”“Andarrive tendays late,”

Sasha replied. “If they canfindus,socanourenemies.Itcalls for watchful scouts, wedon'twant tomistakeonefortheother.”“Aye, M'Lady, we have

men who know the regionwell.Theyarewatchful.”He left, replacedbyTyrun

and Lieutenant Alyn as shefinished her stretching.

“Advice,” she asked thesharp-featuredcaptainastheystood by the flowing water.“How do we stop thisformationfromturningintoarabble? Already we'rebecoming strung out acrossentire folds. If we simplykeep adding new arrivals tothe rear, they'll become easypickings for ambush orcharge from behind. Thesenewarrivalsarejustvillagers,they may be formidable

warriors alone, but theirequipmentisnotsogoodandtheir understanding of masstacticsevenless.”“And we haven't trained

together,” Lieutenant Alynadded, looking about theriverbanks in concern, bitingat his lip. “I served in theYethulyn Bears before Ijoined the Royal Guard—ittook me months to learn thedifferent ways the RoyalGuard fight. Understanding

of tactics changes fromregion to region and unit tounit—some men will chargean ambush, others willdismount to fight on foot,others may try to outflank.We'reonlygoing toaddnewmilitia soldiers as wecontinue, how can we knowhowthesenewadditionswillbehave? To say nothing ofthis great fruit salad of unitswe'veaccumulated.”Tyrun finished chewing a

bite of fruit and spat out thepips.“Atleastyouyoungstersask the right questions. Nowyou need to learn that noteveryquestionhasananswer.Tobothofyou, I say simplythat we do the best we can.M'Lady, I regret to informyou thatweare a rabble.Nohelping it. If we get hit inmidcolumn on the march,we'll get split. I've instructedranks along the line to circleand enfold, if any such hit

us…but you know thedifficultyofanythingsorapidinthisterrain.“On thebright side, this is

the easy bit. Making thisrabble work againstthousands of Hadryn andprobably Banneryd heavycavalry,especiallyif theygetwind of us and have time toprepare…that'llbethetest.”A man was running along

the bank, feet slipping onstonesinhishaste.Lieutenant

Alynmoved to intercept, butTyrunbarkedacommandandhe was let through.“M'Lady!” he said, full ofhaste and alarm, but noapparent fear. It was not anattack, then. He seemedinstead…bewildered.“M'Lady,we found someoneontheroadbehind,followingus. The scout did not knowwhat to do…he thought…hethoughtperhapsitwasbesttocometoyou.”

Sashafrownedathim,thenlooked beyond to whereseveral soldiers wereaccompanying a somewhatscrawny dussieh pony alongthe riverbank. Upon thesaddle sat a most unmartialfigure, small and swathed inan oversized cloak. Onesoldier led the pony, whileothers moved alongside, andyet more stopped what theyweredoingandstared.Sashabegan walking, her guard

moving with her…and then,withasickeningtwistoffearinherstomach,shebrokeintoarun.Thesoldierwiththepony's

halter stoppedas shearrived,andanotherassistedtheslim,shivering figure from thesaddle, as carefully ashandling eggshells. A dresswas visible, briefly, beneaththe cloak. Sasha grabbed thegirl by the shoulders, pulledback the hood and stared

disbelievingly at the young,pale, teeth-chattering facewithin.Sofy.“Ohno,”wasallshecould

think to say. If Koenyg hadbeen inclined to spare herneck before, he certainlywouldn'tnow.“Sasha!”TearsfilledSofy's

eyes, part exhaustion, partfear,andpartlyatthesightofher sister's horrifiedexpression.“Sasha,Iw…wasscared! K…Koenyg was

going tom…makeme spendmore time with those t…tyrants…and…”SashagrabbedSofy'shands

in her own gloved ones andheldonetohercheek.“Hells,you're freezing!” She pulledaside the cloak, revealingnothing more than a palacedressbeneath, itsshinygreenfabric muddied about thehem. “You rode all throughthe night in just this? It getscold away from your warm

fireplacesatnight,Sofy,evenin summer! What were youthinking?”“Sasha?” Sofy pleaded.

“Sasha, don't be angry withme! I…I didn't know whatelsetodo…!”Sashaputbothhandstoher

head, half-turning with thestrengtheningurgetoscream,or to break something.Moremen were clustering about.“Princess Sofy!” she heardthem saying urgently, one to

the other. It spread throughtheir ranks with concern andsurprise. This was just whatsheneeded…“There…there was a big

confusion after theexecutions…” Sofycontinued,hervoice shaking,“…men running around,saying…sayingtherew…wasrebellion and that you'descaped. E…even the gateguards weren't payingattention. Suddenly, there

were people rushingeverywhere…Itookthehorsefrom the stable and I justrode! I rode likeyoushowedme, Sasha, those timesbefore! I just…I just had togetoutbefore…”“You're going back!”

Sasha rounded on her. Sofystared at her in shock. “Youcan't stay here, Sofy! This isanarmy!Peoplearegoing togetkilled,doyouunderstandthat?”

Past her temper, Sashahalf-expected Sofy tocollapse into helpless tears.“I'm not marrying that pig!”Sofy screamed instead. “I'mnot!Iwon'tmarryamanwhokills serrin children and callsitsport!I'dratherdie!”A hushed, incredulous

silence settled over thosenear, as those further awayscrambled to see or hearbetter. The sisters’ stareslocked,Sashacompletelyata

loss, Sofy tear-streaked anddesperately furious, her slimshouldersheaving.“Can't send her back now,

M'Lady,”saidTyruninalowvoice from Sasha's side.“We'll have northerners inpursuit, scouts skirmishing,villagerecruitsonthetrail,nodoubtalltanglingandmakinga mess. It's amazing she gotthis far without challenge.Yousendherbackaloneandshe's likely dead bymistake.

And we can't spare her anescort.”“Oh dear lords,” Sasha

muttered. Her temper boiled,desperateforrelease.Shewasangry at everyone—at everyGoeren-yai soldier in thecolumn for plotting withouttelling her, for expecting somuch from her, for thrustingher into such a positionwithout so much as a “Doyou mind?”. And at Koenygforbeingadangerousfool,at

her father for his blindworship, at Kessligh forleaving her, at Sofy forneeding her and at herselffor…“Oh dear spirits, juststop!” she thought to herself,furiously. There were menwatching, men whose livesnow depended to no smalldegreeuponthedecisionsshemade. Back in Baerlyn,arguing with Kessligh, shemight have been able toafford losing her temper.

Here,shecouldnot.“Icanride,”Sofysaidina

small voice, fidgeting withsome uncharacteristicallytangled hair. “I think I'mquite good at it. I didn't falloff even once. Iwon't get inanyone'sway.”“Ifyourideinthiscolumn,

Sofy, you are in the way,”Sasharetorted.“Everyone'sineveryone else's way, that'swhatridinginformationis.”“She'll be fine,” said

Andreyis from one side,gallantly. “She can ride withme.” Sofy gazed at him.Wiped at her tears, duckingherheadshyly.Sashagave theyoungman

a harsh look. “And what areyou going to wear?” sheasked Sofy. “You can't wearthat dress…look, no wonderyou nearly froze, you musthave been riding with it upoveryourknees! I've a spareshirt and that's it, and I'll bet

none of the men haveanythingyoursize…”“M'Lady,” volunteered a

Black Hammers lieutenantSasha did not know, “Ibelieve we can findsomething among the men.We'vegotafewsmallerlads,andevenasoldierknowshowto tailor in an emergency. Ifyouweretoleavetheprincessinmycare,Ibelievewecouldfindhersomethingsuitable.”Andreyisglaredattheman.

Sasha threw her hands up inexasperation. “Fine,” shesaid,realisingthatshehadnoother choice. Which wasseeming very much the wayof things, lately. “You dothat.”The lieutenant gallantly

offered Sofy his arm. Sofytook it meekly. “But Icould…” Andreyis protested,butTeriyanlaidahandonhisshoulder,restraininghim.Thelieutenant gave the younger,

plain-dressedmanacoollookoverSofy'sheadasheledheraway. There were othersoldiers, mostly officers,practically queuing to be ofassistance.Andreyisfumed.Just wonderful, Sasha

thought—the fate of Lenayinin thebalance and theyoungmen thought it moreimportant to lock horns likerutting stags in the spring.She spun on her heel andmade for her previous place

on the bank, her guardmoving behind. Teriyanleapedquicklytoherside,hisstride long, but his footingnot quite as precise upon thebroken,shiftingrocks.“You could go a bit easy

on the girl,” he suggested.“She didn't mean any harm,shejust…”“Spirits save me from

people who don't mean anyharm,” Sasha snapped,leaping fast across a slippery

boulder in hopes of losinghim. A crash of boots onloose rock told her it hadn'tworked.“Anddoyouwanttoknow

why she did such a stupid,desperatething,ridingallthisway in the dark when shebarely knows one end of ahorsefromanother?”“Not particularly, no,”

Sashasnapped.“Because she needs you,”

Teriyan said firmly. “I'd

nevermet the girl until now,butyou readme someof theless private bits from herletters before, and Lynettetells me some more…”Memories of the SteltsynStar, warm before thefireplace with a mug of ale,reading some delightfulpalace scandal from Sofy'slatestletterthatsheknewherfriends would love to hear.“You think of her as thesmartestgirlinBaen-Tar,and

perhaps she is at that. ButSasha, she worships theground you walk on, just asmuch as you ever did withPrince Krystoff. And nowwhen she gets into theworstpossible trouble, she comesrunning all this way to seeyou.NotDaddytheking,notbrother Damon, not herpalace friends and fellowgirlies…you, Sasha. Sheneedsyou.”Sasha stopped on the

riverbank,hands toherhead,and stared agonisedly acrossthewater.Windgustedattheriverside trees. Above theeasternhills,thebrokenedgesofcloudglowedgoldeninthedawn light. Perhaps the rainwouldholdoffafterall.“Why can't people just

look after themselves?” shesaid plaintively to no one inparticular. “Whydo I alwaysendupgettingcaughtinotherpeople'sproblems?”

“If you really think that,”Teriyan said sharply, “thenyou're even more arrogantthan I thought.” Sasharounded on him,disbelievingly. “You, whospentyourearlyyearslatchedonto brother Krystoff like afoal to its teat,andyour laterones just as much so uponKessligh. That man gave hislife toyouwhenmostpeoplewould have given their rightarmforhimtoevensayhello,

andwhat thanksdoyougivehim for it? You're a smart,strong girl, and you've moretalent for swordsmanship inyourlittlefingerthanmostofushaveintotal…butyou'veahell of a lot to learn aboutresponsibility. The spiritsgrant each of usresponsibilities over others.Whentheyneedourhelp,wegive it. All I see from youright now is complaints andselfishness.”

“I'd accept that dressing-down from a friend,” Sashasaid coldly. “But fromsomeonewholiedtome,whowas spying on me in secret,and has been setting up thiswhole campaign, with me tolead it, and never a word tome…” She took a deepbreath, trying to keep fromshaking. She'd nearly lost itcompletely, in full view ofeveryone. It had been thatclose. “From that person, I'll

not hear anything lest I askforit.Isthatclear?”“Ah…” Teriyan gave a

contemptuous wave, turninghisbackasiftodismissherindisgust. But he paused, andlooked back at her. “I'm notperfect,andI'llbetI'vemademistakes, with you, withLynie, with Kessligh andeveryoneelse.ButeverythingI've done, Sasha, I've donewiththegoodofotherpeoplein mind. You have a long,

hard think about it, and youask yourself if you canhonestlysaythesamething.”

Damonrodeacrossthechaosof the Rathynal tent city inthe cold light of dawn,rubbing the sleep from hiseyes. The once orderly,sprawling camp now lookedas though a great wind hadsprung up in the night and

come howling across theslope, leaving a trail ofdestructioninitswake.Sometents were collapsed andbelongingswere strewnuponthe ground. Musteringsquares for horses now heldonlyhalftheirpropernumberand cartloads of fodder werestripped of feed. Soldierswandered aimlessly, sometalkinginsmallgroups,somesitting by lonely campfiresandsippingtea.

Damon caught snatches ofconversation as he rode past,some angry, someexasperated, some forlorn.There was not a Goeren-yaiman to be seen. At Damon'sside, Myklas rode with abewildered expression.Myklas had never found thebickering of lords interestingbefore. A sixteen-year-oldprince in Baen-Tar, Damonknewall toowell, could leada sheltered life, safe within

the illusion that all Lenaysshared the same values, paidhomagetotheirsuperiorsandwould die for the samecauses, if needs be. Damonhad been eased from thatillusion slowly, one smallstepintothefreezingwaterata time. Myklas had beenthrownforaheadlongplungeand his eyes now registeredthechillingshock.Inafieldbesidetheroad,a

group of soldiers gathered

about a morning campfire.Damon recognised the flagatopaneartent—abattlehornon a scarlet background, theFyden Silver Horns. Damoncalled ahead to his RoyalGuard escort and rode intothe field. Morose, unshavenfaces looked up as heapproached.Damon and Myklas

dismounted and handed reinsto the guardsmen.“Highness,” said a Fyden

sergeant, with no realenthusiasm. Of the six menpresent, this man was theseniorranked.“What happened?”Damon

asked. Itwas a question he'dasked numerous soldiers thismorning. It was plenty clearwhat had happened. It wasnot a simple description ofeventshewasseeking.The sergeant shrugged.

“Damn mess, YourHighness,” he said, in a

guttural western accent.“They leave, all myGoeren-yai. Many friends. Damnmess.” His Lenay was notgood…it rarely was, in thewest. Nearby, an officer wasshouting, trying to rallyscatteredmen.“How many of the Silver

Hornscontingentremain?”The sergeantmade a face.

“Half. Maybe less. SomeVerenthanes go. LieutenantByron go. Maybe I should

havegotoo.”“Highness…” a man-at-

arms ventured, cautiously,“wego…gochase?Chaseourmen?”“They're traitors,” Damon

said flatly.Koenyg had beenmost insistent on that point.Insistent,loudandangry.The westerners looked

most unhappy at that. “Nottraitors, Highness,” saidanother.“Goodmen.”Another man said

something in a westerntongue, which got an angryretort from his comrade.Voiceswereraised,backandforth.Evidentlytheissuewasnotuniversallyagreed.Damon was not surprised.

He glanced up at the RoyalGuardsman astride his horse—a Goeren-yai man, one ofthefewRoyalGuardGoeren-yai who'd remained. Theman's face was impassive.DespiteKoenyg's attempts to

dismissanumberofGoeren-yai Royal Guards, Damonhad insisted as many remainas possible. Koenyg hadalreadyhadalistcompiled,itseemed, and had spent halfthe dark hours summoning,ordering and shouting, tryingtosortout the loyal from thedisloyal. Even when itbecame apparent that someVerenthanes, too, hadabandoned their posts, heonly dismissed Goeren-yai

guardsmen.Then had come news that

some other Goeren-yaiguardsmen, infuriated by thedismissals,hadtakenleavetoridehardafterthetraitorsandmore were joining them.Some northern cavalrymenhad intercepted them, withsporadic battles erupting bytorchlight across the fieldsand into the forest below.That tally was twenty deadfrombothsides,withrumours

spreading fast of how theBanneryd cavalry hadexecuted several woundedguardsmen, not helpingmatters at all. The desertionshadonlyendedafterafuriousrow between Captain Mylesof the Royal Guard andKoenyg,duringwhich(itwassaid) Koenyg had threatenedto dismiss Captain Myles aswell, to which Myles hadcountered that all the RoyalGuardwoulddesert if hedid

so.It had been a long,

exhausting, bloody, rumour-filled night, and the day didnot promise any better.Alreadytherewerereportsofmurders amongst the fewGoeren-yai of Baen-Tartown, the finger of suspicionpointed immediately at thenorthern soldiersaccommodating there. Therest of the Goeren-yaicommunitywereshelteringin

the houses of Verenthanefriends,fearingfortheirlives.The only positive Damoncould see was that thesoldiers themselves, with thepredictable exception of thenortherners, had not beenkilling each other. From thelook of this lot, he reckonedthat Koenyg would have hiswork cut out for him if heexpected them to go tearingoff in pursuit of their friendsanytimesoon.

“Not badmen,” the Fydensergeant insistednow.“Goodmen. Verenthanes…” heshrugged, helplessly.“Verenthanes kill LordKrayliss, kill Taneryn men,go Sashandra Lenayin todungeon, now attackUdalyn.” Another helplessshrug. “If I Goeren-yai,maybeItraitortoo.”“Why don't you go and

fight with them then?”Myklas said with irritation.

“If you feel so sorry forthem.”“Maybe I do,” said the

sergeant, with a dark glowerat the youngest prince.“MaybeIstartnow.Boy.”Damon put a hand on

Myklas's shoulder, pullinghim back. “Thank you,Sergeant,” he said, keepinghis voice even. “You haveeveryrighttobeangry.Noneofuslikethissituation.”“Aye,” the sergeant

muttered. He spat into thefire.“Aye,PrinceDamon.”“You just back down to

him?” Myklas saidincredulously as they rodeback along the road betweenpaddock walls. “Who's theprincehere,youorhim?”“Every Lenay man is a

prince,” Damon said darkly,casting his gaze across thedesolatescene.“Wedon'trulebydivineright,Myk,weruleon tolerance. They tolerate

us,not theotherwayaround.It'salwaysbeenthisway.”“Yeah, well, maybe it's

timeitchanged,”Myklassaidangrily.“Don't be a stupid little

shit,”Damon said coldly. “Ifyou'd kept spitting in thatsergeant's eye, he'd have cutyourfuckingheadoff,PrinceMyklas, and devils take theconsequences. In the lasthundredyearswenobleshavebegun to forget this fact and

nowwe'repayingforit.”“You're defending them?”

Myklas said incredulously.“You're defending whatthey've done? What Sasha'sdone?”“I'll tell you this, little

brother,”Damonsaidstarkly,“thank the gods Sasha'sleading this. The reason wearen't knee-deep in bloodrightnow isSasha. I'vebeenreadingalotofhistorylately,the kinds of things our

wonderful holy scholarsnever taught us and don'twant us to read. Paganhistory,beforetheLiberation.We've forgotten whathonourable Lenays do whenthey'vebecomesickofbeingkickedintheballs.Solongasthat column has Sasha at itshead, shemight keep it frombecomingabloodynightmareacross the whole kingdom.But if something happens toher, it could be the end of

Lenayinasasinglekingdom,and sure as hells the end ofLenayin as a Verenthanekingdom. If it truly everwas.”Across an open stretch of

lower slope, past isolatedtrees and water catchmentsthat shone the dull silver ofthe overcast morning, rodethe king. There were royalbanners of purple and green,andahordeofRoyalGuardsastride some of the finest

horses of any Lenay stable.Thekingworeblack,tallandstraightinthesaddleastrideafine dappled grey. Soldiersacross the slope stared as hepassed and some cheered.Behindhim,ahostofnobilityalso rode, several hundred innumber. The colours of theirclothes seemed incongruous,a sea of courtly reds, blues,greens and golds across thedark green fields. Most,Damon suspected, had not

changed from the previousday's finery. Last night, noonehadslept.“Look at them,” Damon

muttered,reiningtoahaltonthe rise, with a good viewover the royal processionalong the lower slope. “Tooscared to venture amongsttheir own soldiers except inforce. They're more keen tolicktheking'sheelsthantheyare to question their ownmen.”

“Still, it's good to seeFather out on a horse,”Myklas saiduncertainly. “It'sbeenalongtime.”Hepaused.“In fact, I can't think of thelasttime.”Some of the nobles were

riding amongst their ownsoldiers, whatever Damon'sdisdain. A small group ofthemcamegallopingacrossanear field, a flash of greenTyree colours amidst whitecanvastents.

“PrinceDamon!”calledthehandsome man with thesquarejawandcooleyeswholed them. They reined upopposite the low stone wallthat separated the road fromthe field. Six men. Of thefollowers,Damon recognisedLord Redyk, but not theothers, who were younger.Family, most likely. Loyalswordsinuncertaintimes.“Lord Arastyn!” Damon

said coldly. “What can I do

foryou?”“Great Lord Arastyn,”

Lord Redyk corrected, hisface flushed red against hiswhitewhiskers.“Yourmendon'tthinkso,”

Damonobserved.“Lost themall, have you?” Lord Redykturned even redder. LordArastyn's dark eyes werecold.TheTyreecontingenttoride to Baen-Tar had beenone of the smallest. TheFalcon Guard were already

garrisoningBaen-Tar,soonlya token fifty extra soldiershad accompanied Tyree'slords and ladies on the road.Those soldiers had beenhandpicked, almost all ofthem Verenthane. Now, allwere missing. Loyalty toone's faith was important inLenayin, but for many,loyalty toone'sprovincewasmore.TheTyreesoldiershadleft no doubt who theythought were the traitors to

theproudnameofTyree.“Your great-grandfather,

King Soros, decreed that theprovincial lords shall ruletheir provinces directly,”Lord Redyk growled. “Wehave so decreed. LordArastyn is now the GreatLordofTyree,andthefamilyname of Nyvar is erased,dishonouredbeyondrepair.Itis done, and none other canunsayit!”“Words are easy, sitting

aloneonyourhorsewhenallyour men have deserted,”Damon replied. “There is anold Goeren-yai tale of themad chieftain Shymel, wholefthisclantogoandliveona mountain top and declaredhimself ruler of all the starsandthemoon.Somesayheisstill there, ignored by all, anirrelevant speck on his peak.No one cared, my lords.Certainly not his clan, whodid not miss him, and the

stars and the moon least ofall.”Lord Arastyn raised a

hand, forestalling LordRedyk's angry reply.Arastynhad always been loyal toFamilyNyvar, his eldest sonwastowedJaryd'ssister,andhehadbeenaclose friend tothe late Great Lord AystinNyvar.Damon stared closelyat the man. Had his loyaltybeena lie?Orhadhechosenthis path simply to save his

ownskin,andtheskinsofhisfamily? Some rumours saidthat his fellow lords hadchosen him to be thesuccessor because it wouldlook less suspicious for afriendof thedyinggreat lordtotakehisplace.Surelysuchanold, loyalfriendcouldnothave ordered the destructionofFamilyNyvar?“Thekinghasaskedforan

explanation of events,” saidLord Arastyn, in calm,

measured tones. “You werepresent, Your Highness, atthe folly of the traitor andmurderer Jaryd Nyvar. Youranswerswillberequired.”Damon could barely

restrainhisanger.“Youkilledhislittlebrother,”heretorted.“Dare you call him amurderer?”“Our actions were within

the king's law,” Arastynreplied,withstonycalm.“Anaccident occurred. The boy

was foolish. It is regrettable,yetthefactremainsthatJarydNyvar's actions weretraitorous, and they weremurder. Youwere unwise toprevent us from killing him,Prince Damon. Your ownactions shall be consideredbeforetheking'sjustice.Bestthat you consider your ownposition.”“How can a man be a

murderer when he chargesthirty armed nobles all

alone?” Myklas askedsuddenly. “Were the men hekilledunarmed?”“It was against the king's

law,” Arastyn insisted, “andthereforemurder.”“Soundslikeadamnbrave

man to me,” said Myklas.Lord Redyk lookeduncomfortable. Lord Arastynseemed to grind his teeth.Damon nearly smiled.Myklas had that damnablyannoying habit of saying

whathethought.Usuallythatwas no problem, becauseusuallyhedidn'tthinkmuch.“Ishallanswermyfather's

enquiriesasIseefit,”Damontold the lords, coldly.“Appeals and treaties shallnot sway me. I have betterthings to worry about thanTyree's succession,my lords.Goodday.”“Packofcowards,”Myklas

observedoncetheTyreelordshad departed and the princes

were riding downhill towardthe king's column. “I'm gladyousavedJarydNyvar,he isagoodfighterandIcan'tseewhathedidwrong.”“Toward the throne,

nothing,” said Damon.“Toward his peers in Tyree,everything.Buttellmethis…back there, you said thatFyden sergeant should shutup and respect his superiorsbecause nobility is alwaysright.Andnowyouthinkthe

Tyree lords are a pack ofcowards. How can both betrue?”Myklasthoughtaboutitfor

a moment. A gust of coldwind caught at his typicallyunkempt brown hair. He hada face that would alwaysremain young, Damonsuspected, even when hisbody was grown. Sofy saidthat Myklas's greatestambitionwastoremainakidforever. People liked him

because he was usuallypositive and had a simple,good-humoured and relaxedview of things.Damon oftenwondered what sort of manhe'd become when hediscovered that such anattitudewould only take himsofar.“Why does everything

have to be so complicated?”Myklas wondered aloud,finally.“Youcanaskthatquestion

all you like,” Damon saidgrimly, “and it won't makethe world any lesscomplicated. We can onlyaccept that it is, andgo fromthere.”“You're enjoying this,”

Myklas observed, watchinghis elder brotherwith a glintofmischief.“Crisessuityou,alldarkandforeboding.”“Shut up or I'll belt you,”

Damonsnorted.Soldierswerestaringatthe

king's procession. If the kinghademerged fromwithin theBaen-Tarwalls,surely thingswerebad.Ashortdistancetoone side, Damon sawKoenyg, all in black astridehis chestnut stallion. Hewasinvolved in an angryexchange of waving handsandpointing.Thenobleswhowere the targets of his rageremained stonilyunimpressed. FinallyKoenygreined about in exasperation

and rode away, his RoyalGuardsinpursuit.He spotted Damon and

Myklas descending the slopealong the paddock road andturned uphill to meet them.He arrived at Damon's sidewitha thunderofhoovesandanangryscowl.“Can you believe it?” he

exclaimed to his brothers.“Father insists we ride atonce.Itriedtoexplaintohimthatitwouldbebettertowait

forLordParabystoreachus,take the time to prepare andthen depart together…butsuddenly Father fancieshimselfacommander!”“He is king,” Damon

pointed out, with lesssympathythanhemight.“He'snotriddenintoaction

since the Great War!”Koenyg scoffed. He seemed,Damon observed, highlyagitated. “This is myresponsibility, I am

Commander of Armies andprotector of the realm. I canhandlethis.”“Like you handled the

Goeren-yai?” Damon nearlyasked. He refrained withdifficulty, and despisedhimself for it. “Sofy ismissing,”he said instead,hisjawtight.Koenyg gave him a dark

stare,controllinghisunsettledstallion with a yank of therein.Damon'smaretossedher

head.“Youhaven'tfoundheryet?” Koenyg askedaccusingly.“She's not here,” Damon

retorted. “There are horsesmissing, there was chaos atthe gate, there were guardsaway from their posts…shecouldeasilyhaveriddenout.”“Shebarelyknowshow to

ride!”“Sasha'sshownher.”“Bloody Sasha,” Koenyg

said between gritted teeth.

“As if it weren't enough tohave one sister for a traitor,nowshecorruptstheother.”“Maybe shewouldn't have

felt the urge if you hadn'tbetrothed her to thatperfumed Larosan shitheap.”Koenygstaredathim.“Yes,Iknow.”“Whotoldyou?”Darkly.“None of your damn

business. It was your idea,wasn'tit?”“Not mine.” Shortly, and

moredefensivelythanDamonmighthaveexpected.Koenygwas rarely defensive aboutanything. “ArchbishopDalryn's.AndFather's.”“Father's?”Disbelievingly.“Yes, Father's,” Koenyg

snapped. “As you said, he'stheking.I'masoldier.Ithinkwe should ally with thelowlands VerenthanebrotherhoodbecauseIseethemilitary possibilities. I don'tarrange marriages. Dalryn

took the idea to Father, andFatherapproved.”“Andyouwentalongwith

it,” Damon accused him.“Why keep it secret? Is thishowallLenayinwillberuledfrom now on? You, FatherandDalryn,makingdecisionsfor the kingdom that are sounpopularamongstthepeopleyou don't dare even tellthem?”“You speak for the people

now?” Koenyg said

dangerously.“YousoundjustlikeSasha.”“You ignored Sasha,”

Damon jabbed back, aforefingerextended,“andyouignored the Goeren-yai, andtheybroughtallyourpreciousplans crashing down aroundyour ears. Ignore me if youlike, and ignore Sofy andignore all the people you'veinfuriated—that's yourchoice.Butifthisiswhatyouand Father call leadership, I

fear forLenayin,because thekingdom can't take muchmoreofthis!”For a brief moment,

Damon thought Koenygmight strike him. One hardfistballedonthereinsandhisdark eyes blazed with anger.Then he snortedcontemptuously and rode hisprancing stallion ahead andacross, cutting them off.“This is what happens whenyou spendall your timewith

girls,” Koenyg said toMyklas, loudly enough thatthe guardsmen and soldiersnearbycouldhear.“Youstartto believe thatmenwill loveyou just by smiling prettilyand complimenting theirshoes.”He dug in his heels, leapt

the adjoining paddock fenceand raced across the fields,weaving between abandonedtents as he went, hisguardsmeninpursuit.

“Ihopehefallsandbreakshisneck,”Damonmutteredashe and Myklas continueddown the slope toward theirfatherandhisentourage.“No you don't,” Myklas

replied, watching him withwary eyes. Damon matchedhis gaze. Whatever Myklashad hoped to see there, hedidn't find it. “I hope Sofycomes back soon,” Myklassighed. “Last I saw Alythia,she was screaming that ‘that

mangy bitch Sasha’ hadruined her wedding and thather husband would arrive inthe midst of this chaos andthere wouldn't be a properreceptiontogreethim.Sofy'sthe binding that holds thisfamily together, everyonesaysso.Withouther,we'llallkilleachother.”“Only now she's being

married off to foreigners,”Damon muttered. “MaybeFatherandDalrynwantus to

killeachother.”“No offence, Damon,”

Myklas said with typicalmatter-of-factness, “but if itever comes to that, mycopper'sonKoenyg.”

The rebel column rodeonward in the brighteningmorning, two abreast alongtheroadandsometimesthree,then thinning tosingle file in

parts where the forest closedin, or the road climbedsteeplytocleararidge.Sashanoticed that the vanguardappeared to have doubled toas many as ten riders, inaddition to several scoutswho made brief, randomappearances to declare whatlay ahead, before gallopingoff once more. Sashasuspected that the increasewas due to Sofy, who nowrode several places behind

Sasha,atJaryd'sside.Royaltyalways demanded extraprotectioninthemindofanyloyal officer. Sashaconsidered sending Sofyfurther back in the column,but decided against it. Anyambush would likely strikemidcolumnortotherear.Thecolumn'slead,shieldedbythevanguard and forewarned byranging scouts,was probablythesafestplaceofall.Jarydrodeinconstantpain,

his face pale and grim. Hehadeatenanddrunk,buthadnot spoken. A soldier whoknewhealinghadcleanedhiswounds and rewrapped hisbandages.Thelegwoundwasa fleshwound, he'd said, butitwasnotinfectedandwouldheal well enough in time.Sasha wished she had amomenttorideatJaryd'ssideand talk to him, but the roadrequired her attention.Besides, she would

occasionallyhearSofy's lightattempts at conversation, andthe stony silence thatfollowed.For a while, the weather

closedinwithlightrainandagusting, swirling wind thattore at the treetops andscatteredtheroadwithfallingleavesandneedles.But then,just as Sasha began to fearthattheroadwouldbecomeamuddy bog for those furtherback in the column, the rain

ended and sunlight spearedthrough lighter, scatteredcloud.Craggy,sheer facesofrock climbed clear of thetrees in places, loomingabove the road. At times,SashaconsultedwithCaptainTyrunaboutpossibleambushspots, but the scouts’ reportsremained positive, and theresidents of one villageturnedout togreet themwithcheers, tenmountedwarriorstojointhecolumn,andsome

freshprovisions,whichSashadirected to the men furtherback.Food, at least,wasonething she would not have toworryabout.Approaching midday, the

road was noticeablybeginning to climb.Ascending the windingincline of a thickly woodedvalley, Tyrun fell back toconsult with some of hisofficers. Shortly, his placewas taken by a small, wiry

horse, ridden by a pair ofchildren. Daryd and Rysha,Sasha realised withamazement. The Udalyn boylookedupather—alongwayup, from his little dussiehpony—and gave a clenched-fist salute, as might onewarrior to another on theroad. He looked quitecheerful, loose brown hairfalling about his face, hishuntingknifewornatonehiplike a sword. Rysha's gaze

was more serious, yet herposture on the back of herbrother's saddle wascomfortable, as if she hadridden this way many timesbefore. She still wore thesame,mangledyellowflowerinherhair,nowmostlydead.“Where in the world did

you two come from?” Sashaexclaimed, registering onlyblankstaresfromthesiblings.“LieutenantAlyn!”shecalledto the rider ahead. “Have the

children been with us thisentiretime?”“Aye, M'Lady,” the Royal

Guard lieutenant replied.“Princess Sofy'smaid helpedthemfromtheirpalaceroom.Thelad'sagoodriderandhissister can stay ahorsewell atagallop. I thought itbest forthem to ride at the frontwhere they have protection,and can possibly givedirections when we drawclosertothevalley.”

Sasha gazed down at thechildren. Daryd wasmarvelling at Peg's glossyblack flanks. “Big,” he said,his one Lenay word. Andgrinned.“Bighorse.”Twowords.Helookedvery

pleased with himself. Sashafound herself smiling. “Bighorse,” she agreed. Andpointed to their pony. “Littlehorse.” And repeated that,making big, then little sizeswith her hands.

Comprehension dawned onDaryd'sface.“Big horse Peglyrion,” he

said, pointing to Peg. “LittlehorseEssey,” pointing to thepony. “My dasser horse.”Dass, in Sasha's limitedTaasti,meantfather.ProbablyEduwassimilar.“Ah, your father's horse.

Father.”“Fa-ther,” Daryd repeated.

“Father.” His eyes weresuddenly sad. Fearful. At his

back,Rysha gave awhimperand reached forward to takeher brother's hand. Darydclutchedithard.Theirfamilyhad lived in Ymoth, Sasharecalled, the town before thevalley mouth. Krayliss hadbeenright—whentheHadrynattacked, Ymoth would havebeenthefirsttofall.Something growing to one

side of the road caughtSasha's eye. Blue ralamaflowers, growing in a little

clump. She dismountedquickly, picked the flowers,and bounced back up fromstirrup to saddle as fast astwelve years on horsebackhad taught her. She arrangedthe little bunch of flowerswhilst riding with her handsfree, as Daryd and Ryshastared in amazement at thatfeat of horsemanship. Whenthe bunch was tidy, shegraspedthesaddlehorninherleft hand and leaned far out

on one stirrup to present theflowerstoRysha.Rysha took them, blinking

in wonderment. Sashapointed to her hair,encouragingly. Rysha tookout the mangled yellowflower and looked at itsorrowfully.Darydsuggestedsomething to her in Edu.Rysha was displeased andcomplained. She tucked thedead flower into the frontpocket of her coarse weave

dress, and considered theralama flowersmore closely.Counted their bright bluepetals.“Verenthane,” she

pronounced.Sasha blinked.

Verenthane? And then sherecalled the great, eight-pointedpatternedwindowsinthe SaintAmbellion Temple.And, of course, the eight-pointed Verenthane starswornabouttheneckofevery

devout follower. Eight petalson a ralama blossom. Luckyin Goeren-yai tradition, butholy for Verenthanes.Another point ofcommonality between thetwinfaithsofLenayin.“Luckyflower,”shesaidto

Rysha.“Flower?”Ryshasaidwith

a frown. It stood to reasonthat Rysha understood thatwordfirst.Butlucky?“Hmm,” said Sasha,

thinking hard. Then itoccurred to her. She pointedto Peg, looking at Daryd.“Peglyrion,” she said andpointedtothesky.Shedottedtheskywithherforefingertorepresent stars, like thePeglyrion stars in the swordpommel of Hyathon theWarrior.“Ah!” saidDaryd and told

Rysha,“Esi.”“Esi,” Sasha repeated.

“Stars.”

“Stars,” Daryd echoed.Sasha then pointed up oncemore at the imaginary starsand made the spirit sign toher forehead. The universalGoeren-yai sign for luck.AllGoeren-yaibelievedthatstarswere lucky and that the starspirits could bless a person'sfortunes if one appealed tothem. Daryd grinned hisunderstanding.“Lucky,”Sashaexplained.“Lucky,” Daryd agreed,

noddingvigorously.“Lucky flowers,” Sasha

concluded, pointing again toRysha's ralama blossoms.Even Rysha smiled this timeand marvelled anew at thepretty blue colour. It neverceased to amaze Sasha howpeople could usuallymanageto make themselvesunderstood, even with nowordsincommon,withjustalittle imagination andpatience. “Pretty flowers,”

she added, deciding to pushherluck.“Pretty?”“Pretty.” Sasha indicated

Peg's flowing, muscularcurves and put a hand to herheart, with an expression onher face as if the mosthandsome man in all theworldhad juststeppednakedinto her chambers oneevening. Rysha recognisedthat expression well beforeherbrotherandlaughed.

“Gadi!” she exclaimed.“Gadi tethlan ‘pretty’! Prettyflowers!”ItwasthefirsttimeSasha had seen Rysha lookhappy.“Pretty Rysha,” Sasha

countered.Rysha blushed shyly.

“Pretty Sashandra,” shereplied.Around a bend in the

climbing road ahead, a scoutemerged at a canter, slowingnow to a walk as he sighted

the column. Sasha turned inher saddle. “Sofy? Is Sofyridingbackthere?Tellher tocome forward, I'vea task forher.”There was a moment of

commotion behind. Someoneoffered an instruction…“Justtap him lightly with yourheels,Highness.Nottoohard,he'llunderstand.”A second dussieh pony

approached and Sasha pulledPeg right to the road verge,

where the hill climbed moresteeply. There was barelyroom here for Peg and thetwo dussieh. Sofy's horsecamebetweenPegandEssey,and Sasha blinked inastonishment.Seated in the saddlewas a

girl who looked remarkablylike, and yet most unlike,Sasha's younger sister. Sofyworeasheepskinjacketandathick,plainundershirt,tuckedinto a pair of pants secured

firmlyabouthernarrowwaistwithabelt.Therewereridingglovesonherhands,soft-skinboots on her feet and hershining brown hair was tiedin a simple ponytail at theback.“Where in the world did

yougetthoseclothes?”Sashaasked.“Some of the Tyree

soldiers had bought goodclothes for their youngerbrothers in Baen-Tar,” said

Sofy,inaverysubduedtone.“Theywereverykindtolendmethese.”Sasha stared foramoment

at this most incongruous ofsights—aprincessofLenayinwith her hair tied back, inpants, jacket and boots,astrideahorseintheLenayinwilds. And she realised,suddenly, what a shock thefirst sight of her in suchclothes must have been forherfamily,onherfirstreturn

visit to Baen-Tar asKessligh'suma.Andshe'dcutherhairshort, too.Andworna sword on her back, andotherweaponsbesides.“Hello!” Sofy said

cheerfully to the Udalynchildren.“Hello, Princess Sofy,”

saidDaryd,echoedbyRysha.So they'd learned who thenew arrival was, then. Bothchildrenbowedinthesaddle.Sofy laughed. “Oh, aren't

youlovely?AndRysha,whatpretty flowers. Prettyflowers!”Pointing.Rysha nodded and smiled.

“Prettyflowers,”sheagreed.“Sofy,” said Sasha, eyeing

the scout requiring herattention. “I've an importanttask for you. You'll not bemerely a passenger on thisride.”Sofy nodded nervously.

“Yes?”“Look after the children,”

Sashatoldher.“Seethemfed,makesuretheydon'twander,maybeevenlearnalittleEdusince you're so good withtongues.Canyoudothat?”“Yes, of course!” Sofy

looked relieved. It wasn't somuch a task, Sasha knew, assomething she'd have doneanyway. But doubtless shewas happy to have someresponsibility.“I'dloveto.”Sasha touchedherheels to

Peg's sides and rode forward

to the scout. Behind, sheheard Sofy resuming theconversation with thechildren.By the time the scout had

departed, the climbing,winding road had arrived atan open shoulder,overlooking the forestedvalleybelow.Thewindblewbriskly,butnolongerascold.Crumpled hills stretched intothe distance, the flanks ofMountTvaybarelyvisible in

distant mist. Sunlightsplashed golden patchesthrough the clouds, driftingslowly over forested ridgesandvalleys,interspersedwithveils of misting rain. Ahead,theridgeontowhichtheroadascendedfellsharplyinalineof ragged cliffs, sheer rockplunging into thick treesbelow. Above the cliffs,riding the updrafts, an eaglesoared.“Oh, my lords!” Sasha

heard Sofy exclaim, andturnedinhersaddletoseetheyoungestPrincessofLenayingazing open-mouthed at thescene, a hand to her chest.“My land is so beautiful!”Hereyeswereshining.“Pretty,” Daryd agreed.

“Prettyland.”

As the column took a briefpausealongastreamtowater

the horses, the first troublebroke out. Sasha ran alongthe forested streamside,dodging about horses andmenastheypressedforspacebetween the trees andwaterside rushes, several ofher vanguard in pursuit.Ahead, she could hear angryyells and threats, at alarmingvolume, and men along thestream craned their heads tolook.Sashapushedherwaypast

thelastfewhorsesandfoundtwodistinctgroupsofmeninconfrontation, each gatheredbehind their respectiveleaders. Both groups wereGoeren-yai, but one wasFalconGuardsoldiersandtheotherwasvillagers.Eachwasshouting in a tongue otherthan Lenay, yet familiar.Blades were not yet drawn,buthandswerethreateningonthehiltsofswords.Sasha stepped between the

loudest, expecting them tostop. The men kept yelling,leaning around the new,inconvenient obstacle,jabbing sharp, accusingfingers.“Shutup!”sheyelledat them. The men simplyshouted louder, ignoring her.Sasha drew her blade andwhistled the edge past oneman's nose, then another,sending them stumblingbackward. The men of hervanguard half-drew their

blades in case of retaliation,but none came, and theshoutingpaused.“What'sthisabout?”Sasha

demanded into that briefsilence. Men on both sidesstared at her, and at eachother, fuming. “Speak, or I'llbanish you from this columnandgiveyourdamnhorsestosomeone who can ridewithout fightinghisbrothers!What'sthisabout?”ShestaredhardataFalcon

Guard corporal who seemedprominent in the argument.“I'm Jysu,M'Lady,” themansaid, as if that explainedeverything. “My friends hereare Jysu.” Gesturing to hisfellow guardsmen. “We ridetogether in the guard. Thesemen are Karyd.” Pointing atthevillagers.Sasha blinked at him,

waiting for the rest of theexplanation. Nothing morecame.“And?”shedemanded.

“Sowhat?”“The clans of Jysu and

Karyd have blood-feud!” avillager announced angrily.Hewasanolderman,atleastsixty, with wild white hairabout his otherwise baldhead,yethehadstrength.Theexpression beneath his spiritmask was ferocious. “Justtwo years ago two brothersfrom the Jysu headman'sfamilykilledaKarydboyinamanner without honour! We

came just now to join thegreat battle to save theUdalyn, but men of Karydshall not ride withmurderers!”“The boy declared

immediate challenge!” aguardsman retorted. “Our ladwaswithinhisrights!”“And what about the

murder of Yuan Arsyn'sbrother just a year before?”another soldier shouted. Ayell came back in the other

tongue,andthentheshoutingand yelling resumed, as loudasbefore.TheywereineasternTyree

now, Sasha realised, withexasperation.Tyreehadclansthat united some villagestogether and thrust othersapart. Another of themanifold confusions thatwere the Goeren-yai, andbaffledsomanyforeigners.A yell cut them short.

SashaturnedandfoundJaryd

limping to the fore. Besidethe obvious pain on his face,his eyes were cold anddistant.Onlyangergavethemanimationnow,adeadlylightthat was chilling to behold.Men quietened, watchinghim. Jaryd stopped betweenthe old villager and hisFalcon Guard corporal, andsaid something, darkly, inanother tongue. Everyonewatched.Therewasnoreply.Jarydrepeatedit.

The corporal replied,shortly,withdeference.Jarydturned his stare on thevillager. The villager snarledsomething in return andSasha caught the words“qualy kayat,” meaning“many gods” in centraltongues. Verenthanes. Andnot, by the villager's tone ofvoice,pleasantlymeant.Jarydhithim,arightfistto

the face. The man stumbledand fell, and his comrades

drewtheirbladeswitha rushof steel. The Falcon Guardsdid the same. Everyone did,saveJaryd.Jarydstaredatthenearest man's blade andwalked straight at him,unarmed, and only one-handed.Walked until the tipof that man's blade presseddirectlyathisthroat.Hiseyesdared him to thrust. Thevillagerbackedaway.Jaryd turned on the other

men and advanced, daring

themalsotokilltheunarmedcripple. Those men alsorefrained. The elder villagerwatched, now seated on theground, wiping the bloodfrom his lip. His eyes,however,heldanewrespect.Jaryd crouched before the

man and repeated hisquestion,quietly.Thevillageranswered,warily. Jaryddrewa dagger from his belt andheld the point to his owncheek. He drew the point

down, cutting slowly, hisexpression never changing,his eyes never leaving theelder man's. Blood trickled.Jaryd sheathed the blade andwiped some blood on hisfingers.Tastedit.Thenwipedsomemoreandheldthathandforthevillager.Thevillagerwipedsomeof

Jaryd's blood onto his ownfingers, and also tasted it.Sasha watched with heart-thumping amazement. She

had not suspected Jarydwould know theways of theancientbloodbond.SomeoldGoeren-yai traditionssurvived amongstVerenthanes insomepartsofLenayin,perhapsthiswasonesuch,inTyree.Jaryd stood and repeated

the bloody tasting with theFalconGuard corporal. Thenhetastedalittlemorehimselfand spat upon the groundbetweenthetwosides.Witha

final,coldglareatthemboth,he limped off. The shoutingdid not resume. Neither didthe two sides cross toembrace each other. Instead,they hung their heads andseemed reluctant to speak oract. The awkward silencelingeredforamoment.Then,very quietly, the two sidesbegantodisperse.“What just happened?”

Sasha asked Teriyan as themen on all sides retreated to

their horses and prepared fortheroadahead.“When blood speaks, do

you listen?” said Teriyan,watching Jaryd's slowdeparture through narrow,thoughtfuleyes.“Huh?”Teriyan shook his head.

“It's an old phrase…lesscommon in Valhanan,probably why you haven'theard it. That's what Jarydsaid.‘Whenbloodspeaks,do

youlisten?’“I don't understand.” It

pained her to say it. She'dthought she understood theGoeren-yaisowell.“Clan conflicts are driven

byblood,”Teriyanexplained.“Blood between the warriorsand the victims, and bloodbetweenthevictimsandtheirkillers.Onecreatesbonds,theother needs revenge. Thesemen were fighting oversomeone else's kin, killed

yearsago.Jarydlosthislittlebrother, just yesterday. Hisclaimtobloodissuperior.Heshamed them. To continuetheir lesser squabble woulddishonour Tarryn's spirit andbring bad luck upon themall.”“I wonder how he knew

thatsaying?”Sashawonderedaloud. “Have you heard ofVerenthanessayingit?”Teriyan shook his head,

with the intense

thoughtfulness he alwayswore on matters ofimportance to Goeren-yai.“No,” he said. “Not that Iknow.It'sapuzzle.”Morevillagersarrivedonce

the column recommenced,offering food, good wishes,seven more warriors and theassurance that neither theynor their neighbouringwoodsmen had seen anynorthern forces passing near.There were many narrow

horsetrails, however, that asmallerforcecouldutiliseifitwished. Sasha herself begantowishtheycouldmoveontoa smaller trail themselves,where their passage wouldnot be so obvious. But mostsuch trails became churnedafter the fiftieth horse hadpassedover,tosaynothingofthe two thousand, fivehundred and fiftieth (as onecorporal had ridden up toinform her they had now

become, much to herastonishment). And if itbegan raining, many of theroutes up steep inclineswould turn to impassablemudslides by midcolumn…No. One kept to the roadswith a large force, Kesslighhadalwaystoldher.Andonewent cross-country throughLenay forests only at thedirestnecessity,andonlythenforshortdistances.Nearing evening, as they

rode a flatter, rolling stretchof land, there camecries andyells from back in thecolumn. Horses wheeled asweapons came out, Sashaholding Peg steady withdifficultywithherownbladeinhand,staringbackovertheconfused, milling columnbehind. The vanguard closedabout in tight, protectiveformation. Sasha could seesoldiersspurringtheirmountsto leave the road, seeking

paths to doubleback throughthe trees and bypass thechaotic blockage of jammedhorses. Above the crashinghooves, shouting men andwhinnyinganimals,shecouldhear the distant yells andclashingsteelofbattle.Butitwas too far back amidst thetreesforhertosee.“Best you stay put,

M'Lady,” Tyrun advised,readingherexpressionalltooeasily. “By the time you get

there it'll be gone, and thelonger you're away from thehead of the column, thelonger it'll take to reformbehind you once more.Command means relying onothers to be your eyes. Youcan't see everythingyourself.”AndsoSashasatwhereshe

was, listening to the battle,watching what she could seeof men manoeuvring acrossthe road whilst those nearest

maintained their protectivecircle. Tyrun merely sat,grimly twitching hismoustache. Sofy looked paleand wide-eyed with thechildren alongside…andJaryd, Sasha saw thankfully,stoodhishorsenearby, readyto grab the rein should somepanic strike. Of Teriyan, orAndreyis,shesawnosign.Thebattle sounds fadedas

quickly as they had begunandsoonalonghairedFalcon

Guard corporal camethundering up the road atspeed,severalmenathisrear.“Captain, M'Lady!” heannounced as he reined to ahalt. “Perhaps twenty horse,Ranashmen, we think. Theyflee, and there is somepursuit, but we must not bedelayed.We have four dead,three wounded…of theirs, Iamashamedtoreporttwoandone.Wearedishonoured.”“Itwasalwaysgoingtobe

thus,” Tyrun said bluntly.“They have the advantage insuch attacks and numberscount for nothing. Have thewounded head for the lastvillage if they can, with aminimal escort. Have themtry to keep off the road, ifthey can find a trail…thenorthernerswish to delay us,they cannot waste time onstragglers.”The corporal nodded. “I

feel thewounded shall reject

the escort, sir. They do notwish to drain our force ofstrengthbeforethevalley.”“Astheywill.”“And thewoundedRanash

prisoner?”askedthecorporal.“Ifhecooperates,treathim

with honour and send himwithourwounded.Ifhedoesnot,killhim.”“Aye, Captain.” The

corporal saluted, wheeledabout and galloped back thewayhe'dcome.

Sofy stared at the captain,withwide-eyedastonishment.“It is dishonourable for awartime captive not tocooperate,” Jaryd answeredher unasked question, flatly.“Shouldhenot cooperate, heforgoes honour, and thusdeservesnonefromus.”Sofy bit her lip and said

nothing. Sasha knew exactlywhathersisterwouldthinkofsuch logic, yet admired herfor holding her tongue.

Despite thepaleface, infact,she had handled the wholesituationfarbetterthanSashawouldhaveexpected.“If I were in their

position,” Sasha said toTyrun,“I'dtryagain,perhapsjust after we've reformed.Keep us offbalance andslow.”“Aye,” Tyrun agreed,

surveying the surroundingforest. “But they may nothaveachoice.Theyrodehard

tomakethatpositionandnowthe terrain works againstthem—they have to ridetwice as hard tomake a newposition,whilewetravel inamuchstraighterline.”“Even so,” Sasha replied,

“if thatwasjust twenty…andwemighthave threehundredimmediately chasing? Wecould guess that there aremany groups of ambushers.They'vebrokenusup,chasedus off the road…ifwe suffer

sixorsevenoftheseaday,itwill delay us considerably.And they can afford toexhaust their horses—theirgoalsarenearterm,simplytobuy time for the Hadryn inthevalley.Wehave to retainenoughstrengthtofightoncewegetthere.”“Aye,” Tyrun agreed once

more, sombrely. “We shallhave a three-quarter moontonightatleast,whichwedidnot see last night since we

beganso late. I'd recommendwe use some of it beforemakingcamp.”“We'dbestmake it a short

camp,” Sasha agreed, bitingherlip.Tyrun shrugged. “As you

say, M'Lady, we're no goodto the Udalyn if we arrivestaggering like the walkingdead.Horsesespecially.We'llride for several spans of themoon, thencampuntildawn.Horses are less resilient than

men—ifstrainedgreatly,theycanbreak.”

“Duul,” said Daryd, drawinga half circle in the dirt withhis knife. “Wall,” Sasha hadgathered that meant. Aboutthe fire, Teriyan, Andreyisand Sofy watched as themarkings on the earthincreased to form a map ofthetownofYmoth.“Duulas

tarachai,” jabbing at wherethe half-circle ended, andmade a wavy line with hisknife where the rest of thecirclewouldhavebeen.“Uncompleted,” Sofy

surmised. “They only havehalfawall.”“Aye, but it's facing the

right way—onto the fields,”saidTeriyan,firelightturninghis long red hair to dancingorange. He pointed with along stick to the town's

unprotected side. “These arehills,yes?”Daryd frowned. “Oh, hold

on,”saidSofy,asifsearchingher memory. “I know thatone…um…fen, that's right.This fen?”With a motion ofherhands,outliningahill.Daryd nodded vigorously.

“Ennasfen,sa.Fen,fen,fen,”indicating with his knife allthe way alongside the dualmarks that described thebanksofthemightyYumynis

River.“Can'tattackfrombehind,”

Sasha observed. “We'll haveto come along the fields.Anopencharge.”“Why would they only

have half a wall?” Andreyiswondered.“Krayliss said the Udalyn

onlymovedbackintoYmothrecently,” said Sasha. “Itmusthavelainabandonedfornearlyacentury,toofarfromthe valley to be safe for the

Udalyn, but too close to theUdalyntobesafeforHadryntooccupy.Thelandstherearefertile, it must have beentempting. But now, it seemstheycouldnotdefendit.”TheygazedatDaryd'slittle

map in the firelight. Aboutthem was a much grimmercamp than Sasha had seenbefore.Menmadenolaughterandsongabouttheirfiresandlittle conversation. Mostlythey ate, or tended to kit or

weapons, or saw to theirhorses, now haltered to treesin small groups whereverwild grass grew. All haddrunk at the last streamcrossed, and now the camplay strewn along a windingridgeline, easily defensiblefrom either end, and mostcertainly from the steepslopestoeitherside.After some further

discussion, Sofy excusedherself to go and sit at the

neighbouringfirewhereJarydsatwith his leg stretched outwithCaptainTyrunandsomeother senior officers. SashasawhersitbesideJaryd,whobarely registered her arrival.Sofy had been talking toJaryd on and off along theride, and Jaryd, unable towield a sword and hold thereins at the same time, andthus unable to fight from thefront of the Falcon Guard,had seemed to appoint

himself her protector. Darydthen excused himself to goandcheckonEssey,whomhewas clearly very attached to.Rysha remained behind,content to gaze into the firewith her big brown eyes,wrapped in a man's cloak agood four times too large.Sofy, Sasha noted, waswalking somewhat gingerly.Her saddle soreness wassurely terrible,Sofyhadonlysat ahorse ahandfulof times

beforeinherlife.Butshedidnotcomplain.“Ah, you'll have to be

faster than that, lad,” saidTeriyan to Andreyis, eyeingJaryd and Sofy. “That blue-blood boy, he's a slick one.Have the ladies eatingoutofhis hand in no time…you'llhave to make your movefasterifaskinnyvillagelad'stohaveanychanceatall…”“Shut up,” Andreyis told

him in irritation, staring into

the fire. Teriyan raised hiseyebrows in characteristicmirth. “She's a Verenthaneprincess, I wasn't thinkingthatatall.”Sasha repressed a smile.

“Ahaye,”Teriyansaidslyly,“I'm sure that fleeting visionof a crown on your head atthegrandweddingneverevenhappened, not for amoment…”Andreyis glared at him.

“Teriyan,” Sasha

reprimanded. “Leave himalone.”Teriyan chortled. Rysha

was humming the notes to asong, uncomprehending ofthe conversation. She lookedexhausted, her eyelidsflickering. Sasha recalled thecomb she'd put into herpocketwith forethought. ShebroughtitoutandgesturedtoRysha. Rysha came withoutquestion, gathering herenormous cloak so as not to

trip, and sat cross-leggedbefore Sasha. It pleased herthat the littlegirlwithwhomshe could barelycommunicate, and who hadeveryreason tobefrightenedof foreigners, showed suchcompletetrust.“I hope they're worth it,”

Andreyis said glumly. Brokea twig and tossed it on theflames. “The Udalyn, Imean.”Sashafrownedathim.“Do

you doubt it?” she asked,taking the ralama flowersfrom Rysha's hair andhandingthemtoher.“Well, no one's ever met

one, have they?” Her youngfriend seemed suddenlygloomy, gazing at the fire.“An adult, anyhow. What ifthey'reallbastards?”“You think bastards could

have raised a little girl likeRysha?OraboylikeDaryd?”Andreyisshrugged.“Idon't

know. Maybe. Half ofBaerlyn thinks my father's abastard, but I turned outokay.” And, “Don't sayanything,” when he saw thecheap shot forming on herlips.“Allofthestoriesaboutthe

Udalyn suggest otherwise,”Sashasaidfirmly.Freedfromitsthreewoodenpins,Rysha'sbrown hair fell in foldedtangles. The comb was deerbone, finely carved and

strong. Rysha winced as itcaught at a tangle, stillhumming softly. “They've aneye for fine craftsmanshipand a love of green things.TharynAskarwasnotonlyagreat warrior, it's said hegrewsunflowers.”“Oh aye, that's a real

recommendation,” Andreyisreplied,pokingthecoalswithanother stick. “They're juststories, anyhow. Old Cranyktells stories of the scores of

Cherrovanwarriorshe'sslain,and the great size of thebuckshe'shunted…”“Tosaynothingofthesize

ofhiscock,”Teriyanadded.Andreyis nodded sagely.

“Exactly. A shrivelled littlething, I'm sure.Who can tellwhichstoriesaretrue?Peoplelove to love the Udalyn.When people want to lovesomething that much, they'llbelieve itwhether it's true ornot. Especially when it's

useful to them. Look at thecapital Krayliss got fromeveryonelovingtheUdalyn.”Sasha sighed, thinking as

sheworked.Thecombcaughtat a hard tangle and Ryshacomplained in Edu. “I don'tknow, Andreyis,” Sasha saidtiredly, taking a handful ofhair below the tangle andyanking hard. It wasn't sodifferent from combinghorses, really. “Kessligh saysyoucanbelieveineverything,

oryoucanbelieveinnothing,but neither path will grantmoretruththantheother.Allwe can do is trust our sense.MysensetellsmetheUdalyndeserve to be saved. I mightbe wrong, but…” sheshrugged. “We'll find outwhenwegetthere.”Teriyan made a face. “It's

irrelevantanyhow,”hesaid.Sasha paused her brushing

tofrownathim.“Youthink?”“Whether people are right

tolovetheUdalynornot,it'sirrelevant,”Teriyansaidwithcertainty. “The fact of thematteristheydo,forbetterorill.AndiftheUdalynweretoall be slain, peoplewould beangry enough to do all sortsof nasty things to the peoplethey deemed responsible formany generations to come.We either stop that, or wedon't. Arguing over whetherit's all sensible or not is likearguing whether it's sensible

forraintofall,ortheseasonstochange.Theyjustdo.Dealwithit.”Rysha patted Sasha's knee

impatiently. Sasha resumedbrushing, with a final,incredulous look at Teriyan.“Aye,wellthat'shigh-mindedidealism,isn'tit?”“It'ssurvival,”Teriyansaid

firmly.“HardtobeaGoeren-yai romanticwhen there's noGoeren-yai left. And equallyhard to be a Lenay patriot

when Lenayin's been split topieces.”“Aye,” Sasha conceded,

reluctantly.“Aye!” Rysha agreed

loudly.Another Lenayword.And she giggled when theyall looked at her. Teriyangrinned at her, and winked.Ryshaconsideredherhandfulofflowers,coyly.Sashalostpatiencewithan

especially nasty little tangle,and quietly removed a knife

fromherbeltsoRyshacouldnot see, and cut it. Ryshahummed her tune, oblivious,as she had doubtless sat andhummed many times before,ashermother,sisterorcousinhad performed this task forher. The tune soundedstrangely familiar. Sashawondered if theUdalyn sangthesamesongsandknewthesame tales thatshe'dcometolovegrowingupinBaerlyn.Soon Daryd returned, and

Rysha began to doze. Sashadecided she'd best let Darydtelltheofficerswhathe'dtoldher. She gave Rysha toTeriyanandthegirlsnuggledsleepilyagainst thebigman'sside. Teriyan put an armaroundherandgazedintotheflames, reminding Sasha ofmanyeveningsattheSteltsynwith Lynette's head restingagainsthim.A Wildcats lieutenant

made a space for her and

Daryd upon a fireside log.Jaryd sat alongside on hissaddle, his left legoutstretched, Sofy besidehim.ConversationhaltedandSasha encouraged Daryd toshow them his map ofYmoth,drawinginthedirtbythe fire with his knife. Menasked questions, gazingthoughtfullyatthemap.Jarydonly stared at Daryd, withmore expression in his eyesthan Sasha had seen since

Baen-Tar.Darydwasofasimilarage

to Tarryn, Sasha realised.Perhapsalittletallerthantheboy she remembered sittingon Jaryd's bedside. And alittle leaner,with lightbrownhair insteadof sandy, andnofreckles.But,intheflickeringorange firelight, it seemedthat memory conspired withshadows to contrive asimilarity. Tears wet Jaryd'seyes, then rolled down the

inflamed, red wound on hischeek.At first, none noticed but

Sasha andSofy. Sofy lookedanguished, but Sasha shookherheadfaintly.Itwouldnotdo for a man in grief toreceive comfort from awomanbeforehispeers.Suchcomfortwasforchildren,notformen, andSofy seemed toknow it. Then the othermennoticed, one after another,and conversation faded.Men

staredsilentlyintotheflamesand continued sharpeningweapons, or sipping drinks,ormendinggear, as theyhadbeen before. Jaryd's tearscaused no awkwardness, noembarrassment, not even ashe struggled to contain thesobs that threatened to rackhisbody.Theofficerssimplywaited,withquietrespect,forthe moment of grieving topass.Daryd looked wary and

concerned, aware that thismatter somehow concernedhim,yetuncertainofhow.AsJaryd breathed more deeply,recoveringhiscontrol,Darydknelt before him, pulled hisknife from its sheath andoffered it to him, hilt first.Jaryd simply gazed, faintlyincredulous.HetookDaryd'sknifewith

hisgoodhandandconsideredtheblade.“AUdalynknife?”he asked, hoarsely. There

were decorations on thepommel, Sasha saw in thefirelight, intricate spiralpatterns.Daryd seemed to

understand. “Udalyn,” heconfirmed. “I warrior.”Pointing to himself. “Fightfor you.” Sasha wasastonished.EitherDarydwasa remarkably fast learner, orSofy a remarkably goodteacher.Orboth.Perhapshe'dbeen practising that line all

afternoon, awaiting theopportunity.Jaryd flipped the knife

several times, testing itsweight. Then handed it backto Daryd. “It's a good knife,warrior Daryd,” he sighed.And ruffled the boy's hair.“But I'll be damned if you'regoing to fight. You canwaitinthebackwiththeprincess,and I'll see you deliveredsafely back to your motherand father. If it's the only

goodthingtocomeoutofthiswhole mess, maybe that'llmakeitworthwhile.”

BY MIDMORNING, THE

ATTACKSHADBEGUN.Thefirststruck midcolumn, from thewest this time, causingconfusion in the middleranks. The second, shortlyafter,hittherear,creatingyetmore delays as men doubledback to help and the entire

columncametoaforcedhaltfor fear of dividing. Sashawas sitting astride, waitingforeveryonetoreform,whena scout arrived from furtherahead, and informed themthathe'dfoundthebodiesofatravellingpartyfromanearbyvillage—sixmen,allGoeren-yai,allnodoubtridingtojointhe cause. More such werearriving constantly—asmanyas eight hundred men, theofficers now estimated. For

sheer strength, the columnwas ingoodshape.Butnow,they lost time. Word wouldbe heading to the Hadryn inthevalleyasfastashorsebackcould take it. Themore timethe young Lord Usyn had toprepare for their arrival, theworseitwouldbe.Approaching midday, the

road arrived at the foot of agentle incline and began toascendat an angle.The treeswereallpine, tallandwidely

spaced, with littleundergrowth between. BothSasha and Captain Tyrunexchanged glances as thevanguard peered through theforest shadows andLieutenantAlynyelledordersforoutriderstofanahead.“No choice,” Sasha

muttered.“Wecan'tafford tolose time finding a betterline.”“Aye, M'Lady,” Tyrun

acknowledged.Andyelled to

the rear, “Double thevanguard! Riders from therear and upslope to theflanks! Cover the approachandwaitfortheentirecolumntopass!”Riders thundered past,

headingupslopeandweavingbetween trees, their horsesfindingplentyofroomtorunuponthebroad,browncarpetof needles. Barely had theridersbegun to fadeamongstthe furthest trees when there

came the distant yetdistinctive buzz of crossbowfire. Yells followed, echoedbyCaptainTyrun's andmoreup and down the column;bladesrangoutallatonceashooves came thundering in agreatmass.“Stay with her!” Sasha

yelled to Jaryd, pointing atherashen-facedsisterandthechildren alongside, thenpounded her heels into Peg'ssides, joining others heading

upslope at speed. Then shecould see them, heavy horsecoming line-abreast downthrough the trees, flashes ofblack and blue uniform, thecoloursofBanneryd.Itwasacavalry nightmare, heavyhorsewith the full advantageof height behind them,holding their line in descentwith all the proficiency onemight expect of northernriders.The outermost of the

upslope guard were hit andupended like saplings beforea spring river flood,men cutfrom horses, animalsshrieking as they tumbled,hooves flailing the air. Thedefensive line roared, mendesperately trying to form astrong line, some astridedussieh that had no businesschallenging that formidabledownhill rush head on. Theycharged together with ahorrific crash of bodies,

blades, armour and flesh.Horses collided, riderscatapulted through the air,bodies fell cleaved from thesaddleinabloodyspray.The line disintegrated, and

then the northerners werethrough, still spurring hard,though therewerewide gapsin their ranks, some menfallen, others entangled andseeking a less direct path.Sashaheadedstraightforonesuch hole…the nearest man

saw her—a clutch of rein, achange of direction, massivehooves pounding the turf ashe sought to bring hismomentum to bear. Anotherhorse might have struggled,but Peg accelerated with anexplosive burst of rawmuscle,withnoregardfortheslope. That closing speedseemed to surprise heropponent, who swung afraction late, and Sasha,swaying away and under his

stroke as she had learnedplaying lagand, slashed hisarminpassing.Then she wheeled, racing

backdownthehill,despairingeven now of getting closeenough as the Banneryd linehurtledonward…anddirectlyin line ahead, with heart inmouth,shesawalittleknotofriders with Jaryd shieldingSofy's pony with his largerhorse.Butridersfurtherbackin the column were arriving

now,pouringinfromtheleftand flying between the trees,blockingtheapproachtowardSofy'sposition.TheBannerydlinewheeled

right,thoseridersfurthestleftmakingsharpturnsacrosstheoncoming line, slashingblows at those who cameclose enough. Sasha'sprevious target, riding fastwith his arm clutched to hischest, managed to get hissignals confused and

slammed into a tree with ahorrendouscrash.The Banneryd line then

raced across the road, aheadofSofy'sposition,continuingdownhill,theirformationnowmore line-astern than abreastastheleftflankfellinbehindtheright,fightingoffpursuerswho tried to cut them frombehind. A northerner fell,thenanothercutaGoeren-yaifrom his horse…Sasha sawshe had a line on that one,

aimingtoasinglepointaheadof him through the racingtrees. He hurtled across theroad, her following, and asgreat as his speed was,Peglyrion on a downhill run,withaweightaslittleasherson his back, was quitepossibly the fastest horse inLenayin. She was on himfrom the left before he evensawher,andshecuthimleft-handedfromthesaddle.She was too fast, in fact,

for she overtook another onhis left.Hesawher,blade inhand, and she knew thatwasnot a fair contest onhorseback…whipped a shortblade from her belt andthrew…thud!Itimpaleditselfin an intervening tree trunk.Which was enough, shedecided, and pulled hard onPeg's reins. The other riderthundered onward, the entireBanneryd line racingdownhill where the trees

becamethicker.Sashacircledin awide turn, heading backupslope…and realised she'doutdistancednearlyeveryone.Only now were severalpursuit riders thundering by,hot on theBanneryd's tracks,moretoharassandmakesurethey did not come back thantoseriouslychallenge.SashaheldPegtoacalmer

trot back up the slope,plucked her knife from thetree trunk in passing, and

sparedthefallennortherneracold glance. He'd tumbledinto the base of a tree, headmostly but not entirelysevered…aweak,left-handedbackhand it had been,glancing off the armouredshoulder. Sasha knew shewould never be half theswordsman in a saddle shewas on two legs. But then,shefanciedherhorsemanshipagainst even the dreadednorthern cavalry, especially

onPeg.A flash of light upon the

needles nearby caught hereye. A Verenthane star, itschain severed, spattered inblood. She recalled thesimilar star and chain uponthe pedestal in the SaintAmbellionTemple.Krystoff'sstar. And she shivered,making the spirit sign withher swordhandstillwrappedaroundthehilt.On the road the scenewas

of semiorganised confusion.Sofy, the Udalyn children,Jaryd and Captain Tyrunmarked the head of thecolumn,andwhatwasleftofthe vanguard formed ahead.Other men collected bodies,tendedtowoundedandyelledat wandering warriors to getbackinformation.SasharodestraighttoSofy

and Jaryd…Sofy seemedready to cry with relief.“You're well?” Sasha asked

herinconcern.Sofy nodded, attempting

composure.Fromthelookonher face, it seemed likely tobethehardestthingshe'deverdone. “I'm fine,” she saidhoarsely,blinkingfuriouslyatthe tears in her eyes. “Wewerewellprotected.”“Peglyrion fast!” Daryd

remarked, handling hisnervous horse steady withskill. He looked shaken, butremarkablycalminspiteofit.

Thiswasaboywhohadseenkilling before, Sasha judged.Rysha clung to him tightly,butmadenocomplaint.Withher face mostly hiddenagainst her brother's back, itwasunlikelyshe'dseenmuch.Sasha faced Jaryd,

steadyingPeg'sheadtossandstamp with a reflexive yankas she wheeled him about.Breathing hard yet barelysweating,Pegseemedcontentenough to obey. “Thank

you,”shesaid tohim.“Isawwhatyoudid.”“I did as much as I could

with this blasted arm,” Jarydmuttered. He slid hisbandaged and splinted leftarmbackintoitsslingwithagrimace of pain—Sashaguessedhemusthavetakenitout tograbSofy's reins.Anysoldier drilled in cavalryknew that the best chance tosurvive a downhill rush wasto turn into it—the faster the

closing speed, the less theattacker's chanceofapreciseswing.Jarydhadgrabbed thereins of Sofy's pony andpositionedhimselfasashield,unmoving and obvious.Daryd had sensibly placedhimselfontheirfarside.HadtheBanneryd charge reachedhim, Jaryd would have beenkilled…but Sofy and thechildren, shielded from thatfirst strike,would have quitepossiblybeensaved.

“Sofycouldnothopeforabetter protector.” Sashatouched heels to Peg's flanksandrodetowhereTyrunwassurveying the scene. ShecametoTyrun'sside,andthelieutenant he'd been talkingwith inclined his head inrespect. “The honour ofKessligh Cronenverdt rideswith you, M'Lady,” he said,and rode off to survey thecarnage upslope before shecouldreply.

“Your friend Teriyanwarned me you'd trysomething stupid like that,”Tyrunsaidbluntly.“Like what?” Sasha

snorted. “I was trained tofightandthat'swhatIdid.”“In this column,” Tyrun

replied, utterly unmoved,“you're far more than justanotherwarrior.”“Menaren'tridingforme,”

Sasha retorted. “They'reridingtosavetheUdalyn.”

“M'Lady,theonlyreasonagood Verenthane like me isriding in this column isbecause you're leading it.”Sasha frowned at him.“You're my guarantee thatthiswillnotbe thefirstblowin a Goeren-yai–Verenthanecivilwar.You'reasymbol toboth, and you've ties andloyaltiesonbothsides.Ifyoudie, this could becomeexactly what Lord Kraylisswould have made it—a

slaughter of Verenthanes byangry Goeren-yai, withhorrors to follow across allthe land. Please think of thatthe next time you feel theneed to take some needlessrisktoaddonemorenotchtoyourbelt.”He made sense, Sasha

noted. The problem, ofcourse,wasthatherdefinitionof risk was somewhatdifferent to his. Which wasarrogance, obviously…but

she couldn't help what shewas. And she didn'tparticularly feel like arguingaboutitnow.“I'll take it under

advisement,”shesaid.Another man rode down

the hill toward them.“Captain, M'Lady,” said theman as he arrived—a BlackHammers corporal, Sashasaw. “Twenty-three of us,thirteen dead, ten wounded.Only nine of them, five and

four. Several of our scoutingparties ahead surprised someand report another twentyenemy dead. Plus they'll berunning into hostile villagersastheymovealongthetrails,whichwillendsomemoreofthem, or tie them up. Therecan't be more than twohundredstillharassingus.”“Andallofthemfanatics,”

Tyrun said grimly. “They'llgrind their horses’ legs tobloodystubsbeforetheygive

usanypeace.”“We could divert men to

harass them back?” Sashasuggested.“M'Lady, I'd advise not,”

Tyrun replied, “ambushtactics in this country onlywork when your opponent ismuch less nimble, and whenyou know where he's going.Theyhave that edgewithus,we don't have it with them.We'd arrive at the mouth ofthevalleyinworseshapethan

if we simply press on andacceptthelosses.”Another horse arrived at a

gallop, Teriyan's red hairflyingoutbehindashepulledupsharply.“ThatwasbloodyTyrblanc in person,” heannouncedgrimly.Thebladein his hand was unbloodied.Sasha knew he would beunhappy about that. “Imighthave had him if he hadn'tcome through so damn fast.Damnthisterrain.”

Sasha recalled the proud,bearded man with a widegirth who had competedagainstTyree thatdayon thelagandfield.“Some Banneryd men

consider ambush tacticsdishonourable,” said thecorporal. “I've heard CaptainTyrblanc is one who preferssinglecombat.”“Thatdoesn'tmeanhe'snot

good at ambushes,” Tyrunsaid grimly. “And for a

Banneryd fanatic, honouronly applies to contestsbetween equals. Againstpagans, they'dslitourthroatsinthenightiftheycould.”Sasha saw a Royal

Guardsman riding downhilltoward the vanguard leadinga riderless horse. The man'sfacewascontortedwithgrief.The horse, Sasha recognised,was Lieutenant Alyn's. Alumproseinherthroat.Ithadbeenherdecision topresson

along this road, regardless ofthe startlingly obviousambush terrain ahead. Herdecision, her responsibility.Alyn had been seeking toreclaim his honour, havingbeen cut from the RoyalGuardindisgrace.Shehopedferventlythathisspiritwouldconsider this, a death in agoodcause,tosuffice.“We continue as before,”

Sashasaidquietly.“Wecameto save the Udalyn. If we

must take losses so that wecan serve them best, then sowe shall. But if we keepgetting hit with thisregularity, the Hadryn'sdefences shall be so well setuponourarrival thatwemaynotmake it into thevalleyatall.”Captain Tyrun and the

Black Hammers corporaldeparted. “Where'sAndrey?”Sasha asked Teriyan,suddenlyanxious.

“We're riding furtherback,” Teriyan replied. “Itwon't do for M'Lady of theSynnichtohaveherfavouritefriends all around her—itlooksbad to theothermen. IcameaheadabitwhenIsawthis damn slope up ahead…Andrey got caught a littlebehind.”“Aye,” saidSasha, reading

gratefully between the lines.“Well, see that the next timeit happens, he gets caught a

littlebehindoncemore.”“Aye to that,” Teriyan

agreed.Hiseyessweptacrossthe hillsides, the woundedmen, the fallen horses, thescreams of pain. “Damntoughbusiness,”hemuttered,and stared at herhard. “Howareyoudoing?”He'd never have asked the

question of a man, Sashathought resentfully. She tooka deep breath. “Good fornow.ButI'llbehappierwhen

wegettothevalley.”Teriyan nodded, and

slapped her on the shoulder.“There's a reason I neveraccepted a soldier's post,” hesaid.“Iknewthey'dmakemeanofficer, I had it offered tome often enough. I'm braveenough,butIneverwantedtomakethosedecisions.You'vea damn sight more couragethan I have, girl. Hang inthere.”He tapped his heels to his

mount's sides andmoved offthrough theconfusion to findAndreyis. “You had achoice,” Sasha murmured toherself, staring up thewinding,climbingroadaheadthroughthetrees.“Ididn't.”

Captain Tyrblanc of theBannerydBlackStormsatonhis saddle, and sharpenedhisbladeuponhislap.Themoon

was high, three-quartersvisible and baleful throughthe branches. It caused hisweapontogleam,catchingonthe notch midlength, abothersome breach of purity.The whetstone clickedpassing over it, interruptingthesmooth,whistlingsongofstoneonsteel.He'dcaught itupon the helm of a RoyalGuard lieutenant in thecharge.His lips twisted indisdain.

Royal Guards. The mostoverratedsoldiersinLenayin.No northerner had eversought recruitment in theRoyal Guard. That wouldmean service alongsidepagans. Far better to seekglory in thegreat companies,their names stained in theblood of countless enemies,their ranks free from thedefilement of the unworthy.And now, as if further proofwere required, there were

RoyalGuardsridingwith thetraitor-bitchherself.A rabble if ever he'd seen

one. Goat herders fromTyree. Mother-coddledwhelps from Rayen.Barbarian animals fromValhanan,hometothetraitor-bitch. It had been a pleasureto kill them. He prayed formany more suchopportunities.The oddswereoverwhelming and he knewthat he and his men would

most likelymeet their deathsupon this road to Hadryn. Itmattered not. The gods werewaiting for them, and theywould be honoured in theheavens as heroes. But hewould send many pagansdown to burn in the fires ofLoth in the process and, fornow, the certainty of deathonlymadehisowngloryburnallthebrighter.Two of his men

approached, shadows amidst

the trees. About theperimeter,menwatchedfromthe bushes, invisible toTyrblanc's eye. The traitorshad scouts who coulddoubtless track his men tothis point, particularly giventhe moon. They would shiftcamp later, before the moonsetbehindthehills.The twomen sat opposite,

collapsingheavilywithstifledgroans. The smell ofunwashed bodies came clear

to Tyrblanc's nostrils. Mailchafed at the shoulders,unmoved since this pursuithadbegun.Onemanremovedhis helm, and Tyrblancrecognised Corporal Veln inthemoonshadow.“The horses are nearly

spent,” Veln said in Haryt,primary tongue of theBanneryd. “There's grassenough,buttheyneedruffagefor true strength. I'vesearchedforpolovynrootbut

we never camp in the rightspot.”Tyrblanc shrugged, still

sharpeninghisblade.“Onlyafew more days. We've morehorsesthanmennow.Wecanaffordtoloseafewhorses.”Velngavehimahard,tired

look.“Inagreatrushtogettoparadise,areyou,Captain?”Tyrblanc grinned.

“Always,” he said. Velnrestrained a hardened smile.Such was the humour of

northern men, where deathwaseverpresent.“What'sthematter, Corporal? Lost yournerve?”“One kills more of the

enemy whilst one is alive,”Veln replied calmly,unruffled by his captain'steasing.A cloudwaspassingacrossthemoon,dimmingitssilvery light to gloom amidstthe trees. “We are tired,Captain, but should we notpress the advantage at night?

Surely we could kill morewithsurpriseinthedark?”Tyrblanc shook his head.

“Our object is not to killthem, youngster…although itis a pleasant consequence.Our object is to slow them.Why attack them whilethey're not moving? Theymove a little by moonlight,but their numbers are great,theymustslowforwaterandfood for the horses. It growsdifficultforthemtoholdsuch

alargeformationtogether.“And also, at night, the

advantage is alwayswith thedefender. The defenderknowshisground,andknowshis position upon it. It is theattacker who becomesconfused, moving amidstaliendefences. I remember itonce, attacking a Cherrovancamp bymoonlight…we lostall formation, lostevensenseof direction, and nearly lostour entire company.We'd be

moresensibletousethenightforsleep,sowearerestedforbetter fighting tomorrow.Attacking at night is forfools.”“Not always,” said a cool

female voice not more thanfive strides away. The menspun in disbelief…somethingwhistled through the air andVeln's companion fellwith agurgling cry, clutching aknife in his throat. Fromanother direction came a

whistlingarrowandascream.“To arms!” Tyrblanc

yelled, to the answeringshouts of men, steel ringingthrough the cold night air asbladescameout.Tyrblancranin the direction from whichtheknifehadcome,swordinhand…there were bushes,manheight and indistinct inthe gloom. He circled them,stumbling on an unseenroot…steel clashed furtherdownhill, then the distinct

impact of a blade on mail,onlythissoundwasdifferent.A sharp, ringing crack! as ifmetalwerefracturing.Tyrblancsensedmovement

behind and spun in time tosee one of his men doubleover as a blade slashed himopen,thenahorrendousspurtof blood as the head wassevered. A shadow dancedpast thefallingbody,as lightand lithe as smoke on thewind.Tyrblancchargeddown

the slope toward it, and theshadow flitted one waythrough the trees, thenanother. Ahead, anotherBanneryd man stood withwide stance, eyes darting ashe searched for thatshadow…then lurchedforward with a thump!, facefirst with an arrow betweenhisshoulderblades.Another arrowshot

thumped and whistled in thedark.Tyrblanc threwhimself

flat, but it was another manwho screamed and fell.Tyrblanc rose behind a tree,staring about desperately asmen ran, and tripped, andyelledfor lostcomrades.Theshadowhehadbeenpursuingwasnowheretobeseen.ThenCorporal Veln arrived,running downhill, his fearevident despite the gloom.Tyrblanc realised his ownheart was galloping, that hishandswere shaking, and that

bile rose in the back of histhroat, threatening to chokehim.“Captain!” Veln cried,

slidingononekneetocrouchbeside him, as if expectingthe shadows to strike himdead at any moment.“Captain, they are demons!DemonsofLoth! I s-saw theeyes of one…th-the-theyburnedlikefires!”Tyrblancmutteredaprayer

andmadetheholysignwitha

free hand. Death was onething, death at the hands ofevilspiritswasanother.Steelclashed again, this timeupslope, and the gurglingchokeofamanswiftlykilled.“Tome!” Tyrblanc yelled.

“Rallytome!Rallytomeandmake defence!” Several mencame running—one fell,Tyrblanc thought dead butthen he scrambled back up,having only tripped…only tofall once more immediately,

this time impaled with anarrow. More men came,backing up or runningstraight, spinning and staringinalldirectionsatonce,someswinging at shadows.Another fell to the archer,hands clawing the air…Tyrblanc reckoned he knewthe direction this time—downslope, and to the left.Once he had some strength,they would charge thatarcher, and at least gain a

chance against theswordsmen…Shadows leaped from

upslope and down, menyelled warning but were cutdown even as the cries lefttheir lips.Oneman fell near,andTyrblanc saw the demonclearly for the first time—small,fastandcertain,ashineof blue eyes in a pale face.Veln leapt at it with a cry,weapon slashing…theshadow flicked him aside

with a clash of steel, cut offhisarmandslashedhimopenthrough the middle in threeblindingly fast, athleticstrikes.MenfelltoTyrblanc'sleftandfelltohisright,amidagonised screams and spraysof jetting blood. Anarrowshot thudded closebehind and another manslumpedstifflytotheground.Andthen,therewasstillness.Butnotsilence.Amanwas

sobbing, fallen to his knees

nearby.Opposinghim,oneofthe shadow demonsapproached. “Please!” criedthe man. “Please don't killme!Don'ttakemysoul!Ibegofyou,notmy soul!Not thedamnation…oh lords, pleasesave me, save me…” Thewordstrailedintoprayer,fastand stumbling over terrifiedsobsandgaspsforair.Tyrblanc realised that he

was standing fixed to thespot, as if paralysed. He

should kill the sobbing manfor his cowardice. But then,how was he still alive? Hismen were all dead, and hestill stood.Somehow,hehadnotattacked,but rather stoodand watched in stunneddisbelief.Shamefloodedhim.He wanted to die…and yet,did not dare to in such evilcompany. He could not killthe sobbing man, for thesobbing man, somewheredeep in his heart, was

himself.Thedemonconfrontingthe

sobbing man spoke…a malevoice, in a tongue of lilting,alien tones. It sounded like aquestion. A female voiceanswered…Tyrblanc spun,and found her slender formpoised behind him, abloodstained blade in herhands. Her clothes seemedplain, and a black cloth wasfolded over her head,covering her hair. The eyes,

however, gleamed a terrible,ungodlybronze.The demon asked the

question again. The bronze-eyed she-demon answeredshortly, as though in mildexasperation. The he-demonstruck,aswordhilttothefaceof the sobbing man. Thesilence that followed wasmerciful. And yet not…fornow, where there had beenthe conversationofmen, andtheactivityofanight'scamp,

therewasdeathlysilence.A new movement

downslope caught Tyrblanc'seye—amalefigure,holdingahugebow,advancingpastthebodiesofhisvictimsonsilentfeet. There was nouncertainty in the way hesurveyed the surroundingnight,anarrownockedtothestring.Hedidnotstareaboutin bewilderment as a humanmanmight. It was almost asthough he could see his

surroundings as clearly asdaylight.The moon chose that

moment tobreakclearof thecloudandlittheforestsilver.The hillside about Tyrblanc'sboots flowed redwith blood.The sightless eyes of hiscomradesstaredaghastat thetrees or the ground. Menknowntohimbyname.Menof honour. Men of longfriendship and service, toearthly masters and to gods

alike.Itdidnotseemrealthatthis could be their fate.Howhad the gods allowed such athing?“You present me with a

puzzle, Captain,” theapproaching he-demon saidthen, in faultless, barelyaccented Lenay. “Should Ishow you mercy, when youand your kind would nevergrant any to me or my kindshould our positions bereversed?”

Theywereserrin,Tyrblancknew. Rarely if ever seen inthe north. But he cared notwhatscholars,lowlandersandlocalpagansmightcall them.A demon was a demon, byany other name. They werenot human, they wereunnatural and they had nogods.Deathwastoogoodforthem.“I would not beg for your

mercywere it the only thingbetween me and eternal

damnation!” Tyrblancsnarled. The sword was stillin his hand. It trembled, sotightwashisgrip.“Believeme,Captain,” the

he-demon said, with anarrowing of brilliant greeneyesashestoppedandleanedupon his enormous bow,“your begging or otherwiseshall have no bearing uponmy decision. Reason mayswayme.Myprideisserrin.Idonotrequireyoutobeg.”

“We should let him go,”said the bronze-eyed she-demon, coming to standalongside.Herhairwasshortandherposturelithe.“Hecantelltheotherswhathappened.Itshouldbeawarning.”The he-demon inclined his

head in her direction, as ifconceding that reason. “Weshouldkillhim,andthisone,”saidtheotherdemonwhohadknocked the sobbing soldierunconscious. “They fear us.

They fear for their soulsshould theydie at ourhands.Allowing one to survivewilllessen that fear. We shouldmake it absolute.” And thedemonwith thebowinclinedhis head to him, also. Heturnedhisburninggazeuponthe one who stood atTyrblanc'sback.Tyrblanc turned around,

slowly. The small one whohad killed Veln, he realised,was also a female.Her eyes,

fixedupon thecarnageaboutTyrblanc's feet, weretroubled.Sad,even.“Should all the rivers run

red with blood,” she saidquietly, “and all the foreststurn to ash and coal. Shouldblack rain fall, and thespawningsalmongaspitslastbreath,andthegreenwrennolongersingitsjoytothesun,where then, good friends,shouldourglorylie?”Tyrblanc stared in

disbelief. It was Tullamaynethe she-demon quoted.TullamaynetheUdalyn,fromthe days before the Udalynwere corrupted by false-prophets, and disgraced theirnametoeternaldamnationbybetrayingthetrueandrightfulgods. Tullamayne, whoseemed so often, and sosadly, to predict his ownpeople'scomingbetrayal,andtheir coming demise. Howcould one so evil speak the

words of Tullamayne withsuchsadconviction?Howdidthe gods not strike her downwhereshestood?The green-eyed demon

gazed at his companion. Hisbrilliant eyes, for the faintestmoment, seemed not filledwith evil or terror, but…sadness.“Aishasays tospareyou,” he said to Tyrblanc.“Aisha reminds me that notall men of the north havealways been so filled with

fear and rage. Remember,Captain, that thewordsofanUdalyn saved your life. Thewordsofapeopleyouseektodestroy. Think of them, andthink of us, and be grateful.And perhaps tell your fellowhaters,sothat theytoomightunderstand the true meaningofmercy.”“I reject your mercy,”

Tyrblancspat.“Mercy,” pressed the he-

demon,inquiet,deadlytones,

“is confronting the thing thatwould destroy your peopleand letting it live. There aremany of my people who nolonger consider themselvescapable of such mercy. Youare fortunate, this beautifulnight,tohaveencounteredmeinstead.”Hishandwhippedtooneshoulderandpulledcleara blade to hold the pointunwavering before thecaptain's throat. “Strike, ifyouwill,anddefymymercy.

Or drop your blade, andacceptit.Preciousitis,asareallthingssorare.Thedaysofserrin mercy, I fear, shallsoonbeathingofthepast.”

The following day was freefrom attacks. Sasha allowedherself the luxury ofconsidering familiar lands,and feeling some joy to beback so close to home

ground.Thiswas the road toCryliss, Valhanan's capital,andlessthanahalfday'sridefrom Baerlyn to thenorthwest. Therewas a formto the hills, a certain colourupon exposed upthrusts ofgranite on the high ridges, acertain pattern to the treesthat seemed familiar. MountTvayloomedinamuchmorefamiliar proportionwheneverarisetookthemhighenoughto see, and the northern

MarashynRangesweremoreclearly visible through thedistantmist.Anotherday,shethought,andtheywouldbeatCryliss. As close as shewould get to home thisjourney.At midmorning a scout

came galloping toward themwith news of an unexpectedarrival. A short distancefurther, on the edge of theforest, she saw four ridersahorse, amidst a large

collection of riderlesswarhorses. The riders’ hoodswere thrown back and thesteel-blue hair of onegleamedintheslantingsun…another was red-brown,another light blonde, andanotherdarkgrey.The serrinhadcome.The vanguard passed the

clustered horses and Sashasignalled to Captain Tyrun.Thecalltohaltechoedupthelength of the column, fading

in the distance as the great,rattling, snorting mass cameto a stop. The serrin riderwith dark grey hair rodeforward on a lovely chestnuthorse whose breeding Sashacould not immediatelyidentify—a rare thing, forher. He had a long bow,unstrung along the horse'sside,andworeaswordathisshoulder in themannerofallhiscompanions.“Greetings M'Lady

Sashandra Lenayin andCaptain Tyrun Adysh,” hecalled, reining up beforethem. The vanguard, mostlyGoeren-yai men, showedlittleofthecautionthatwouldnormally be warranted bysuch an approach throughtheir midst. “My name isErrollyn and I travel withthree companions. I havebroughtyouagift.”Sasha blinked in

astonishment. The serrin—

Errollyn—was aswonderfullyhandsomeasonecame to expectof serrin.Hishairwas the thick, dark greyof looming thunderclouds ona bright day, and his eyeswere a brilliant, almostluminescentgreen.Hisaccentwas negligible, and hismanner as calm as one whoknew himself to be amongfriends.“How do you know our

names?” Tyrun replied,

somewhatsuspiciously.Sashagave the captain a warylook…probably he had hadless experience with serrinthan she. Serrin knew lots ofthings. “What brings you tothisroad?”“You are Captain Tyrun

because your helmet crestidentifies you as captain andyouruniformisoftheFalconGuard, and there is only oneof those.” Errollyn's tonesuggested either amusement,

or sarcasm, or perhapssomethingelseentirely.Withserrin,onewasneverentirelycertain. “And if she's notSashandra Lenayin,” with anod at Sasha, “then I'm adonkey'sbackside.”Sasha grinned. It was an

unusual turn of phrase for aserrin. Colloquial, almost.Mostserrincouldthinkoffarprettier things to say thanthat. But Errollyn smiledmischievously in reply toher

grin. Itchangedhis face,andthe effect was very niceindeed.“This is a pleasant gift,”

shesaid,lookingaboutatthehorses.Allwere saddled andwithsaddlebags.Herhumourfaded to see that some borethe obvious markings ofBanneryd upon the leather.“Banneryd horses?” sheaskedtheserrin.“Black Storm, yes,”

Errollynconfirmed.

Sasha felt a cold tingleslowly working its way upherspine.“Andtheirriders?”“Indisposed,” said

Errollyn,coolly.Hismeaningwas clear. At Sasha's side,Tyrun's hand made theVerenthaneholysign.Sasha completed a fast

count, arriving at nineteenhorses.Evendismounted, theBanneryd Black Storm wereformidable soldiers. Fourserrin had done this in the

night.Serrin,sheknew,couldseequitewellinthedark.“Which way do you ride,

Master Errollyn?” Sashaasked.Errollyn looked faintly

surprised. “With you, ofcourse.Ifyoushallhaveus.”Have them? Sasha

exchanged lookswithTyrun.Tyrun's expression suggestedthat he was content to leavethedecisionuptoher.“Let's get these horses

rounded up and brought intothe column!” Sasha called.“There will be willingsoldierswithout horses alongthe way, our serrin friendshavenowbroughtnineteenofthemaride!”There was a cheer, and a

sergeant moved to takecharge. “Ride with me,MasterErrollyn,” saidSasha,andErrollyninclinedhisheadgracefully as the vanguardrecommenced.

SashaglancedatErrollyn'scompanionsastheypassed—therewere twowomenandaman, all as unearthly strangein appearance as Errollyn.The other man was tall andworeapatternedheadbandtokeep in place hair the colourof rust. The taller of thewomen had short, steel-bluehair and deep bronze eyes—common colours for serrin,but startlingly strange to anyhumannotfamiliarwithsuch

people.Theotherwomanwaslittle, with midlength blondehair, cheerful round cheeksand laughing blue eyes. Hereyes were not as shockinglybright as the others and herfacepossessedfewerofthosesubtle little angles of cheekand jaw that typicallycombined, with serrin, tocreate a strangeness bothintimidating and attractive atthesametime.Sashaguessedthat she might be from the

Saalshen Bacosh, wherehuman and serrin blood hadmixedinmanyfamilies.All three serrin smiled or

bowedtoherinpassing,thenslipped into the columnbehindherwhereJaryd,SofyandDarydreinedbackalittletoletthemin.Thethunderofhooves resumed in full, anendless, drumming rhythm,headingnorth.“So explain this to me,”

Sashaaskedcuriously. “Why

areyouhere?”“For the same reason you

are here,” Errollyn saidplainly. “To save theUdalyn.”Sasha frowned at him.

“You are from Petrodor?”Errollyn nodded. It seemedlogical—many serrin servedSaalshen in Petrodor. “It's athirty-dayjourneytoPetrodorin thebestweather, Ididnotknow the Udalyn werethreatened until a few days

ago.Wordwould have takenafullmonthtoreachyou,andanother month for you toreachhere.”Errollyn smiled.Beneatha

thick, slightly shaggy fringe,hisdeepgreeneyes flickeredwith amusement. Those eyesseemedtoglow,withstartlingcolour, as ifwith some innerlight of their own. Hereminded Sasha somehow ofa wolf—handsome, broad-shouldered and intelligent…

butjustalittlebitscruffy.“You are familiarwith the

tales of Leyvaan the Fool?”heaskedher.“Theones thateveryone is

familiarwith,certainly.”“When his army invaded

Saalshen, two centuries ago,he took us completely bysurprise. Many villages weredestroyed, their inhabitantsslaughtered, because evernaiveinthewaysofhumans,wedidnot see themcoming.

Saalshenisvast,moresothanLenayin, and much of itsterrain is rugged, with roadsthat are slow in even goodweather.Itcantakemonthstospreadwordfromonesidetothe other. And yet, within aquarter-moonoftheinvasion,serrin forces from all overSaalshenweremassinginthehills beyond the plain. Didyou never wonder how theyknewwheretocome?”Sashafrowned.Beyondthe

approaching treeline, openfields glowed green in themidmorning sun. “The layofthe land in Saalshen is notwell known to any humans,even the Nasi-Keth,” shereplied. “Without knowingthat, we can't begin tospeculate.”“Theyknewtocome,”said

Errollyn, “as I knew tocome.”Sasha waited a moment,

before realising therewas no

more. “And how was that?”shepressed.Errollyn's smile grew

broader. He seemed quiteyoung…although that wasfrequently deceptive withserrin. “We are serrinim.Weknow.”She looked at him for a

long moment. The treesendedandtheybrokeintothemottled sunshine of thepaddocks. They were ridingthroughgreenpastures in the

shelterofasmallvalley.“Right,” said Sasha,

blandly.“Ifyouwon'ttellmehow, at least tell me why.WhyshouldtheserrinimwishtheUdalynsaved?”Errollyn took a deep

breath,hisamusementfading.He gazed ahead, past thevanguard,upthelengthofthelovely green valley. “I neversaid they did,” he replied. “IwishtheUdalynsaved.Iandmyesvaderlin.”

A group, that meant, inSaalsi.Ofsomeindeterminatesignificance that doubtlesschanged depending on thecontext.Saalsiwasbyfartheleast precise and mostinfuriating language Sashaknew. And also by far themost poetic, subtle andbeautiful.“Why?” Sasha pressed,

determinedtogetatleastonestraightanswer.Errollynraisedaneyebrow

at her. “Why do you wishthemsaved?”Sashasnorted.“Youknow,

justonceinmylife,I'dliketomeet a serrin who didn'tanswereveryquestionwithaquestion.”Errollyn laughed. “All the

world is a question in searchofananswer,andintruth,thetruestanswersarethemselvesonlyquestions.”Sasha'sgazewas decidedly unimpressed.Errollyn repressed another

laugh with difficulty. “Iapologise. Human humourisn'twhatitusedtobe.”He was teasing her, she

realised. “Serrin humourneither,” she retorted with aglare.Errollyn only seemed to

find thatmore amusing.Andhe sighed, calming himselfwith difficulty. “I can'timagineanythingmore tragicthantoloseanentirepeople,”he said sombrely. “An entire

culture. My esvaderlin feellikewise. Aisha loves thewritings of Tullamayne…she's the little one with theblondehairandblueeyes.”Sashaglancedaboutinher

saddle. The woman with theshortbluehairwastalkingtoSofy,withgreatanimationonbothsides.Behindthem,littleAisha had introduced herselftoDaryd andRysha, and theconversation there involvedmany hand signals…

although, given the serrinskill with tongues, Sashawould not have beensurprised if Aisha spokefluent Edu by the time theyreached the valley. Nearer,thetallmanspokewithJaryd,pointing to irrigation alongthe valley sides, and askingcurious questions that Sashawas uncertain Jaryd wouldknow how to answer.Sociable serrin—in lovewithwords and endlessly

fascinatedbynewthings.“The tall one is Terel,”

Errollyn added. “The otherwoman is Tassi. We alldecidedtocome.Weareonlyfour, but we see better thanyou by night and we fightwith the svaalverd. I hadthought that all assistancewouldbewelcomed,howeversmall.”“It is,” Sasha assured him.

“You sound disappointed atyournumbers.”

“Aye,” said Errollyn, alittletiredly.“Ihadhopedformore. But the serrinim ofPetrodor are hard pressed,with war brewing in theBacosh and many thingsafoot. We were forbidden tobringeventhismany.Yetwecame.”Sasha blinked. “You

disobeyed an order not tocome?”“Order,” said Errollyn, as

if tasting the word. And

shook his head. “Not anorder. These concepts don'ttranslate well from ourtonguetoyours.Rhillianwasunhappy, but she did notorder. She cannot. I am notwithin her ra'shi, I have myown. My concerns are notalways hers. These threefriends followed me, forreasonsoftheirown.”“This Rhillian,” Sasha

ventured. “I'veheard shehadmuch ra'shi, amongst the

serrinim.Issheyourfriend?”“Yes,”saidErrollyn.“And

no. Her intentions are kind,yet her methods are notapproved by all. She is myfriend in that I have goodfeelings for her and she forme. And yet she is not myfriend,forweargueandIwillnotobeyhereveryinstructionasmanyhaveresolvedtodo.”Sasha took a deep breath.

Sinking into serrin-thoughtwas like climbing into a hot

bath—best done slowly, onebit of skin at a time. “Youhave ra'shi of your own,then?”sheasked.“Everyone has ra'shi,”

Errollyn said vaguely, hiseyes upon a little farmingcottage ahead. Some figureswere running from thevalley's far slope toward thecottage, waving. “On thisquestion, mine agrees withmy esvaderlin and disagreeswithRhillian's.”Hegaveher

a sideways glance. “You'rethinking of humanleadership…ra'shi is not thesame. Serrin do not appointthemselvesleaders,noris theloyalty of others within anindividual's ra'shi, the sameas the men in this columnmight have for you, or forCaptain Tyrun. It is more…morea…amutualconsentofthose within one ra'shi toappoint one who shall lead,on this matter, and for this

time,atleast.Doesthatmakesense?”Sasha grinned. “No.”

Errollyn sighed. “But you'reserrin.Iforgiveyou.”

CRYLISS, CAPITAL OF

VALHANAN, WAS A MESS.Rumours had spread inadvance of a great,bloodthirstyGoeren-yai forceadvancing from Baen-Tar.With Great Lord Kumarynand his fellow noblesmostlyaway at Rathynal, the

remaining Cryliss nobilityhad panicked. Some hadgathered belongings and fledforthehills,whileothershadattacked the few Goeren-yaiwho lived on the cityoutskirts.Some cityfolk came out to

greet the army as itmarchedinto the city, followed byperhapsahundredhonourableVerenthaneswhomadealineacross the main road,prepared to lay down their

livesifthearmydidnothavehonourable intentions. AshorttalkwithCaptainTyrunand several of the column'sother Verenthanes convincedthemtodisperse,andeventoorganise supplies and spreadwordthattherumoursofrapeandpillagewerelies.AttheYethlRiverrunning

through the city's heart, thecolumn paused for a drinkand some food. The tollamongst the Cryliss Goeren-

yai was not as bad as firstfeared—fourconfirmeddead,but plenty of friendlyVerenthanes had protectedthe others. The names of themurderers had been taken,some said coldly, and anofficer of the king would besoughtforjustice.It was not long before

Andreyis arrived, insistingthat there were some peopleSashashouldmeet.Heledthewayalongtheriverbank,past

moresoldiersandhorsesthanSasha had ever seen in herlife. Hooves churned thegreen grass as group aftergroup led their animals todrink. She could barely seemore than ten strides in anydirection past the press ofanimal bodies and the forestof legs,butAndreyis seemedto know where to go. Sashafound herself watching thehorses as she went, judgingtheir character with a

practised eye…perhaps halfwere lowland breeds and theother half either dussieh orpart-dussieh.The character of the

column had changed. Now,instead of beingpredominantly line companytroops, theywere an armyofmany townsmen andvillagers. Formidablewarriors all, their skillsforged in the many traininghalls ofLenayin.As cavalry,

theywere less impressive—ahorsewasagreatexpenseandfewcouldownone.Amongstthose who did own horses,dedicated cavalry trainingwasofunevenstandard.Andreyis found the

Baerlyn contingent furtherfrom the river, their horsesfeeding from one of the haypilessomeCrylissGoeren-yaifarmers had deposited acrossthefields.Jaegarwasthere,inlaughing conversation with

several men from anothervillage, and looking thehappiest Sasha had seen himinyears.Hehuggedher tightenough to give her fear forher ribs,much to the awe ofthe other men. Then sheclasped forearms with Byornof the training hall, and hisfriend Madyn, and cheerfulIllysthewoodcraftsmanwhoplayed a mean reed pipe…andthenotherswerecoming,and she realised that there

were far more men in theBaerlyncontingentthanshe'dhaveexpected.A familiar whinny caught

her attention, and she lookedat the horses to see a veryfamiliar, white-starred facelooking her way. “Chersey!”sheexclaimed,andrantothemare,whogreetedherwithafriendly nuzzle. Anothershoved past Chersey with aloud, friendlygreeting…“Ussey!” She

hugged the young geldingabout the neck and, lookingwildlyabout, realised that allher horses were here. Thestablesof theranchhadbeenemptied.Of course they'd emptied

the stables, the more horsesavailable, themoremenwhocould join the column. Butherhorseswereapartofhermemories of home, happy,safeandcomforting…“Don'tworry, girl,” Jaegar

said with a gruff grin, asChersey nudged her in thestomach and Ussey blew inher face, “we'll look afteryourblastedhorses.”Sashagavehimahelpless,

protesting look…it wasshameful—she should havebeen more worried for thelives of her Baerlyn friends.Andshewas,dreadfullyso…and yet, this was different.From the look on Jaegar'sface,however, sheknew that

heunderstood.Therecameacryfromher

left, then, and she was onlyhalf surprised when a slimtangle of red-haired curlscame sprinting her way andthrew herself into Sasha'sembrace.Sashagavethemenan exasperated look overLynette's head, and many ofthem found interest in thingselsewhere, or scratched theirheads, lookinguncomfortable.

“What were we going totell her?” Byorn protested.“Youleftherinchargeofthehorses, and her father's theonlyonewhocancontrolheranyhow…”“Oh, they'reall sopathetic

on horses, Sasha!” Lynetteshot back, disentanglingherself. Her pale, freckledface was strong withdetermination. “And Usseyhere gets nervous in crowdsandneeds tohavea friend in

sight, and Dass has a sorehoofthatneedswatchingonalongtrip,andnoneofthislotknows what to do becausethey've little enoughexperienceridinganyhow…”“She's been good,” Jaegar

admitted, ruffling Lynette'shair.“Bossy,butuseful.She'sbeen ridingupanddownourlittle column, talking witheach man, telling them eachhorse's personality, how toridethem,thenhowtogroom

andcareforthemproperlyoneach break. They're not suchcompletenovicesonhorses,”withawryglanceatLynette,“thosemenlikemewhoownthem have shared plenty oftimes of drill and practice.But the dealwas she'd comeas far as Cryliss. And nofurther.”Lynette gave Sasha a

desperatelook.“Sasha,you'llneed someone to look afterthe other horses too…I'm

goodatthat,Icouldhelp!”“I'm sorry, Lynie,” said

Sasha, shaking her head.“No.”“Butwhynot?”“You're not a soldier.You

can'tfight.Ifthiswereafootcampaign, then maybe, butthere's no safe rear fornoncombatants in a mountedcampaign.Thefightingcouldcome from anywhere, youcould be in it, and I can'tspareanyonetoprotectyou.I

don't doubt you would beuseful,butno.”“But Princess Sofy's

going!” Lynette protested.“Shecan'tfighteither!”Sasha stared at the men,

who again lookeduncomfortable.Howhad thatnews spread ahead of thecolumn so fast? Perhaps ithadn't,sherealised.Perhapsithad spread just now, shortlyafterarrivinginCryliss.“And I'd drop Sofy in

CrylissifIcould,”Sashasaidsternly. “But having riddenwith us this far, she's now atarget. I don't wish to insultCrylissVerenthanes, I'msuremostofthemarehonourable,but I've no telling which arewhich on such short notice,and I can't be sure she'd besafe here. She stays with usbecause I deem it safer, butalready she costs us severalgoodmentowatchoverher.Ican't spare several more to

defendyou,and if left alone,you can't defend yourself.Absolutelynot.”“I wish I'd learned

svaalverd,”Lynettemuttered,looking at theground. “ThenIcouldhavecome.”“Maybe one day theNasi-

Keth will spread fromPetrodor,” Sasha suggested.Lynetteblinkedather.“Thenyoucouldhaveanuman likeme, if you wish. There's nolimitonage.”

“Oneday,”Lynetteagreed,wistfully.Sasha smiled at her. “But

nottoday.”

TwodaysnorthfromCryliss,the Shudyn Divide markedthe beginning of the AralyaRangethatseparatedmuchofthe populated north from therest of Lenayin. The ShudynDividewasaragged,uneven,

rocky mountain face withmany ridgeline ascents thatlooked both promising andtreacherous in turn. Thecolumnnownumberednearlyfourandahalfthousand,asalarge group of Tanerynmilitia and most of theTaneryn Red Swordscompany had arrived theprevious evening, withpromisesofmoretocome.Ifthe column had beenstrungout before, it would

now become much more so,toilingupthemountainrise.By midmorning, the ride

had indeed become a hardslog, riders dismounting inplaces to walk theirstruggling animals up aparticularly steep or loosestretch. The road becamelittle more than a narrow,rocky horsetrail, flankedincreasingly by sheer dropsthat revealed a magnificentyet alarming view. Many

timesduringtheclimb,Sashaturned in her saddle to lookbackdownandmarvelat theendless line of men andhorses, nose-to-tail in herwake.Bymiddaythecolumnheadhadclearedtheworstofthesheercliffsand,whilethetrail remained steep, theywere enfolded once more bypine trees. But then, withinthe space of a thousandstrides,theweatherchanged.At first it rained, then it

blew hard and strong,bending the trees andsnapping no few withinrange. Soft earth turned toslipperymud and riders triedto hold theirmounts to grassor loose gravel; Sasha heardmany curses and calls ofwarningoralarmfromfurtherdowntheslope.Thenthemistclosed in, enfolding thecolumn until it was difficultto see more than five or sixhorses inanydirection.They

stopped for a lunchtime rest,menfeedinghayoroats theyhad brought with them fromCryliss to horses who hadlittle grazing room upon thenarrow, precarious trailside.Water at least remained noproblem, as the trail crossedsmall runoff streamsfrequently.Shortlyafterlunch,thetrail

became level and wound itsway along one side of a riftknown as Galryd's Pass, for

GalrydtheBloodyhaduseditfrequently, legend told, towreak havoc upon Valhananandbeyond.Itwasreputedtobespectacular,butSashasawlittle through the mist, andwas forced to imagine thegreat, looming peakspresently towering to eitherside.Farbetterthanaview,itmade for someof the easiestriding since Baen-Tar, andthehorsesmovedwithareliefthat spoke of their assurance

that their riders were notentirelycrazy,tohavechosensucharoute.Butthen,alltoosoon,camethedescent.“I'dthoughtwhenwewere

climbing,” Sofy quipped,“that I'd likedownhillsmuchmore thanuphills.NowI seeI like neither.” Amidstslippery rocks and poorvisibility, most riders spentmore time dismounted thanastride.Daryd had to urge

exhausted little Rysha towalk, lest Essey slip andtoppleherontotherocks.Hestepped carefully from loose,slipperyrocktorock,Essey'sreins inonehand,his sister'shandintheother.Seeinghim,Sasha felt the most intenseadmiration. Daryd had notcomplainedonce,andhisfirstthoughts were always forRysha. And Rysha, thecautious, less adventurousone, had perhaps been even

braver.Halfway down the

mountainside,theslopeeasedenough to allow riders backin the saddle and the columnemerged below the grey,mistingceiling.Thesightwasbreathtaking, with vast, tree-covered mountainsidesplunging from the clouds.Branches dripped and smallrivuletsofwatercarved linesacross the trail. There werethick tangles of broadleaf

amongst the pine that Sashadid not know the names of,and vines that crept up thebark of pines and sproutedlittle blue flowers. Strangebirds sung in the treetops,their criesechoingacross thefoothills.Shewas inHadryn,where she had only beentwice before, when severaltwo-thousand-plus Cherrovanincursionshadoutflanked theHadryn cavalry andthreatened Valhanan. Before

her, glistening through abreak in the trees, was thecurling bend of the RiverYumynis, flowing from theheartoftheUdalynValley.Menstoodinthestirrupsto

gainabetterview,marvellingat a scene most had onlyheard described in tales.Some pointed, othersmuttered oaths, and somemade the spirit sign. Darydexclaimed something loudlyto Rysha, who cried out in

delight. Captain Tyrun fellbacktorideatSasha'ssideasthe path became barely wideenoughfortwo.“Ymoth,”hesaid,pointing

through the trees toward adark patch amidst thefoothills. Sasha peered,straining her eyes. TheYumynis curled about beforethem, to the east it openedintoLakeTullamayne,whichglinted dully beneath theovercast sky, flanked by

mountains.Thatwaywas theTaneryn border, where moremountainsrose.Beyondthosemountains,Halleryn.So littledistance had the Hadryn hadtocome.About thewesternbankof

theriver'sbend,thelandrosein foothills that stretchedfrom the base of the ShudynDivide all the way to thevalley mouth beyond, wherethey reared up once more toform steep, imposing sides.

Another sharp range rose toform the valley's easternflank, spreading from thatnarrow point as theyprogressed northwards, highridgesoftreelessrock,linkedin places by a dipping,sweeping spine that lookedsharp enough to cut leather,swathed in cloud. Downbelow,nestledinthefoothillsupon theouter,westernbendof the river, lay the town ofYmoth. Sasha caught a brief

sight of green pasture alongthe riverbank, and a bridge.Sobeautiful,fromthisheight.She had little faith it wouldremain so, once they werecloser.“Whatdoyouguessweare

facing?”Sashaasked.“Itdependsonhowquickly

their messengers moved,”Tyrun said grimly. “Farslower than ours, certainly—among the villages,messengersandhorsescanbe

swapped, and ridden throughnight and day in alldirections. Any northernmessenger has had to avoidthe villages, has received nochange of horse and has hadlittle sleep. It's possible weare less than a day behindsuchamessage.”“And then the question is

‘WhatwillUsyndo?’”Sashareplied.Tyrun nodded, a ginger

hand on the reins as they

turned a downward corner,avoiding slippery rocks. “Wecould assume he learned thismorning. In thatcase,hadhemoved immediately, hisforces could be gathered atYmoth now…if hidden inthose woods, we could notseethemfromhere.”Sashamadea face.“That's

a big force to move so fast.They'll have been encampedbefore theUdalynWall forasiege. Camps can tend to

become permanent, andforces who do not believethemselvesthreatenedarenotprepared to move quickly…and they're not known as‘heavy horse’ for nothing.Thewall isat thevalley'sfarend,andthevalleyisnoshorthike. Also, I'd not havethought it in the Hadryn'snature to hide in the woods.Heavy cavalry likes openspace—I'dthinkhe'dmeetuson those fields beside the

river. If he's here, we'll seehim.”Tyrun gave her a wary

glance. “M'Lady is anoptimist.” In a tone thatsuggested a learned distrustof such things, especiallyfromyoungsters.Sasha shrugged. “Then I'll

give you true optimism. Ithink Usyn is a crazed foolbent on avenging his father'sdeath. I think he'll resist anyrequestfromhiscommanders

to pack up and move away.At the least, that could gainus some time.Whenhe doesmove to meet us, he'll alsoleave behind a portion of hisforce to keep the Udalyncontained behind their wall.He'll think to deal with us,then return to his siege. Buthewillnotbeatfullstrengthwhenwemeethim.”“Perhaps the Udalyn have

already fallen, M'Lady,”Tyrun said darkly. “Perhaps

the valley wall is breached.The north has siegeweapons…Hadryn inparticular, one suspects,having dreamed of thiscampaign for some time. Ifthat is so, we shall face theentire Hadryn force all atonce.”“The valley wall stands

firm,” Sasha replied. “I'msureof it.”Tyrunjust lookedather,evenmorewarilythanbefore. “It must,” she

corrected herself, with aresigned smile. “Otherwise,we'll have come all thiswayfornothing.”“Must move fast!” called

CaptainAkrydoftheTanerynRed Swords from behind,having ridden past Sofy andJaryd. “If we waste timescouting, that bastard Usynwillarriveinforce!Certainlywe can't camp overnight. It'snowornever.”Tyrun made a face,

wrinkling up his moustache.Then he nodded. “We goimmediately, no waiting.”And spared Sasha a faintlyamused look. “Otherwise,we'll have come all thiswayfornothing.”Itbegan todawnonSasha

whatthatwouldmean.Afullcharge into rolling terrainwith plenty of ambushopportunities, withoutknowing what it was theywere facing.She tookadeep

breath. “All right!” sheannounced, loudly enough toincludeCaptainAkrydbehindthem. Akryd, she reckoned,would have been selected byKrayliss himself, as greatlords typically selected thecommanders of provincialcompanies. She hoped hewouldn't do anything stupid.“If it's notUsynhimself, it'llprobablybeBannerydforces,largely those diverted fromtheir path to Halleryn. At

least one line company ofheavyhorse,morelikelytwo,plus an awful lot of infantrymilitia.”“I'd bet on close to a

thousand horse, maybe twothousand infantry atminimum,” Tyrun agreed.Defender's advantage beingroughly four-to-one, asLenayin commanderstraditionally insisted…they'dneed nearly twelve thousand.They had less than half that.

Damn. Even without theHadryn, it didn't look good.With them, it would be amassacre.“Howstronglydefendeddo

youthinktheYmothwallwillbe?”SashaaskedTyrun.“Maybe some archers!” he

replied. “No more than that.They'd be stupid to wastemenonthewall,cavalrycan'tclimb walls! They'll defendthe flanks to stop us goingaroundtotheincompleteside

ofthewall.Iftheydon'tcomeout to fight,we'll have to goinandget themman toman.Ordinarily we could bypassYmoth entirely, but if wetried it, we'd have no ideahow strong a force remainsinsidetoharassourrearwhenweheadforthevalley.”Sashashookherhead.“No

bypassing—we're trying totrap the Hadryn inside thevalley,we can't afford to gettrapped ourselves. If I were

them I'd put infantry ondefensible ridgelines withtrees for cover all about theexposed side of Ymoth. Wecan't ride around that uphillside, it's too rugged. We'llneed two thrusts, one to hitthe near side from the river,and one to flank around thetown and hit the other. Thatsecond thrust will have topass along the riverbank andhead back upslope…straightinto an uphill ambush.We'll

stagger it, a forward force tospring the trap then doubleback,thelateronetohitthemhard.”“The girl knows her

cavalry charges!”Akryd saidwith amusement. “What sizethereserve?”“Make it two hundred,”

Tyrun replied. “Can't spareany more than that. M'Ladyand I'll take the far flank—she can spring the trap, I'llbreak it. Yuan Akryd, you

canleadthenear-sideassault.Don'tstopforanything.”“I shan't!” said Akryd,

mostcheerfully.“Soundslikea plan. I'll see you bothinside!” And with that, hereined off the trail andstopped, waiting for hisofficers further back in thecolumntocatchuptoreceivehis orders. Sasha foundherselfsomewhatunsettled.“Aren't we supposed to

plan a littlemore than that?”

sheaskeddubiously. “Beforethe battle of Baen-Tar,Kesslighplannedfornearlyafullday.”“This is acavalrycharge,”

Tyrun replied, with a wry,twisting smile. “When youthrow amelon off a cliff, doyouplan to seewhichway itsplatters?”Sasha did not consider

herselfcomforted.Tyrundroppedbacktotalk

to his officers, and Sasha

allowed Jaryd to ride upalongside. “Did you hearthat?” she asked. A part ofher felt uneasy excludingJaryd from the initialplanning—in name at least,hewastheCommanderoftheFalcon Guard. It wasimpossibletotellifJarydfeltneglected.Lately,ithadbeenimpossibletotellifJarydfeltanything.“Princess Sofy and I shall

staywiththereserve,”hesaid

grimly.“Ishan'tbemuchuseinacharge.”“When the reserve is

committed to the fight, staywith them,” Sasha insisted.“Holding back on your ownwill only make you a lonelytarget.”“Sasha?” Sofy called from

behind, anxiously. “Sasha,don't hold him back on myaccount. I'm okay, really…IthinkI'mgettingquitegoodatriding.”

“Damn it, Sofy,” Sashacalledoverhershoulder,“I'mnot doing this as a favour!You'refarmoreaprincessofLenayinthanI'lleverbe,andyou're valuable. I'll not riskanimportantassetofLenayinifIcanhelpit.”Sofy stared at her,

managing to look bothcrestfallen and angry at thesametime.As the trail wound though

the lower foothills, Sasha

found herself alone at thehead of the column. Sheshouted for the vanguard toraise a canter where the trailallowed. They rushed alongwinding trails, flanked bythick undergrowth, thevanguard lowering theirbanners to avoid catchingthem upon low branches. Ascout joined them,acceleratingtorideatSasha'sside,hislittledussiehfrothingwhite with sweat as its little

legspumpedtokeeppace,thewild-bearded woodsman onits back assuring her thatthere was open space aheadandnosignofambush.The column burst onto

open fields, green grass wetupon steep, folded hillsides.Fences crossed the grass andsmall farmhouses perchedbeside water catchments.Sasha couldn't see anylivestock as they thunderedalongtheridgelineroad.That

was a bad sign. Ahead, theYumynis River glinted dullyas it swept about in a giantbend. A glance over hershoulder showed an endlessstream of mounted soldierspouringfromthetreeline.Sheheld the column to acomfortable canterwith littlefear of tiring the horses onsuch an easy downwardslope.The treeline continued

downhill on the right, where

dark shelves of rock thrustthrough the green grass.Beyond, the Shudyn Ridgetowered like an almightyblack wall supporting thegrey ceiling of sky. Agalloping horseman caughthereye,racingparalleltothetreeline.A scout—they oftenflanked forward from acavalry thrust, searching thehidden folds of land forambush. And yet, thehorseman swung across and

headed for them at speed.Several of the vanguard fellback, riding on Sasha's rightas a shield, but theapproaching rider bore novisible weapons and held ahand aloft in a sign ofrecognition.“M'Lady, I don't recognise

him,” said one of thevanguard, squinting as theyrode. “He's not one of ourscouts.” The man's dussiehcame racing up the slope at

an angle toward them…andSasha could see the man'sface.“That's all right!” she

replied, with a leap of highspirits. “I do!” She stood inher stirrups and waved himin. “Greetings, Jurellyn!Funnyseeingyouhere!”“Funny?” yelled the scout

as he closed the gap. “It'shysterical!Wherethehells'veyou been, damn fool of agirl?”

Sasha threwbackherheadand laughed. Jurellyn leapedthestonewallbesidethetrailand joined her side with askidding of hooves. The trailwas turning northward,dropping into a shallow foldthat blocked all view of theriver. Upon the opposingslope,Sashasawafarmhouseincharcoalruins, thedamagefartoooldtoraisesmoke.She extended a hand and

Jurellyn grasped it hard. He

looked much the same asshe'd last seen him upon theroadtoHalleryn—raggedandweather-beaten,ashaven jawhisonlyvisibleconcessiontocivilisation. His rumpledclothes bore perhaps severalmorestainsthansherecalled,but it appeared as if theintervening weeks sinceDamonhadsenthimfromtheFalconGuard tospyonLordUsyn's army had caused himlittle concern. Certainly his

horseseemednonetheworsefor wear, running gamely atPeg'ssidewithbarelyasweattoshow.“I've got good news and

bad news!” he said to herabovethethunderofhooves.“Badnewsfirst!”“The Banneryd Holy

Swords hold Ymoth, you'relookingatninehundredhorseminimum, maybe twothousandinfantry!”“I already guessed that!”

Sasha retorted. “What's thegoodnews?”“Usyn ain't here!” With a

gleam in his eyes. “I knowtheBannerydgotwindofyoucoming, they've beenscramblingabouttheplaceallmorning setting updefences…but Usyn's still inthevalley!”“I could kiss you!” Sasha

yelledback.“Promises, promises! This

road's fine—they'll see you

maybe three folds fromYmoth so they won't havemuchtimetoprepare!There'sopen ground from there, youcan form up okay—make itfast past the town, there'sarchers on the walls! Andwatch the damn bridge! Ihaven't been able to getacross for two days, butthere'sHadryn towns not toofar east and my men sawriders heading across thebridge at speed this

morning!”Sashanodded…from those

villageswouldcomethesamemenwhoravagedPerys.“Do the Udalyn still

stand?”sheaskedJurellyn,astheyroseoverthedepression.“No way to tell! Usyn's

still in there…” Jurellynshrugged. “I seeyoubroughtthekidswithyou!”Sashablinkedathim.He'd

sent them, she recalled. “Ifyou thoughtperhaps theking

still had a heart, it didn'twork!”Jurellyn shook his head.

“Brother Damon's idea! Inever had much faith in it!”They cleared the rise andcouldseetheriveroncemore.The lower fields were close,but Ymoth remained hiddenbehind a ridge. “I'll scoutforward,maybe tryandcrossthe bridge when you go!Luck!”He waved and spurred his

wiryhorsetoagallop,raisingclodsof earth in hiswake ashe raced down the trail, thenleaped a wall to ride towardthefurthertreeline.

Theformationseemedtotakeforevertoarrive.Menpoureddownfromthelastriseofthefoothills, officers onhorseback yelling andpointing grandly with their

swords, directing each groupto their position. Sashasimply held Peg to his placebehind the vanguard beforethebankof a stream that cutthroughthepaddocksintotheYumynis. The ruins of afarmhouse lay nearby, itscharred timbers wet withrecent rain. The senselessdestruction sickened her andawokeher fury. Itmusthavebeen such a beautifulresidence,bya streamneara

wide river, nestled amidgreenpasturesandflankedbymountains.Acrossthepasturesbehind,

agreatmassofmenonhorsenow gathered. Sasha staredacross their ranks in utterdisbelief. Thousands ofhorses. They snorted,stamped, tossed heads andwhinnied. Their lines wereragged, their size, colourandbreedinguneven,andthemenon their backs ranged from

armoured cavalrymen towild-haired,tattooedvillagersto a smattering of clean-cutand shaven Verenthanetownsmen. A rabble, Tyrunhad rightly said. But a veryangry, very determinedrabble. A very large rabble.Sasha had never seen suchmustered soldiery before inher life. The very groundseemed to sag beneath theiraccumulatedweight.Tyrun came galloping

along the front line, raisingacheer as he went. He peeledoff and stopped at Sasha'sside. “They know whatthey're doing,” he said, eyessquinted within his silverhelm. “We've got them inteams of roughly ten, we tryto keep the villages togetherwhere possible. This lot'syours…” pointing across thevast swathe of men directlybeforeher,“thebunchbehindthem will be mine…”

pointing over their heads toaneven largermassgatheredthere, “and Captain Akrydhas that lot over there…”pointing furthest from theriver, where at least twothousandhorseweregatheredinrough,shiftingranks.“Your Baerlyners are with

Captain Akryd,” Tyruncontinued, answering herunasked question. “I'm sorrythey can't ride with you, butour organisation isn't quite

that good, and contingentsend up wherever they endup.”Sasha waved a hand.

“That's okay. Nofavouritism.” And it wasbetter, perhaps, that theirfateswereentirelyoutofherhands.Itwouldstopherfrombeing distracted. Teriyan.Jaegar. Andreyis. Fearclutched her heart at thethought of her young friend.“Dearspirits lookafterhim,”

she thought. “Help himremember what he wastaught.”Some horses were grazing

and some men had brieflydismounted to relievethemselves on the grassbefore the charge. Sashaherself had already done so,within the ruined farmhousefor privacy. Thewhole thingwas surreal.Behind thegreatmass, Sasha could see somesmaller ranks holding

reluctantly back. Sofy wouldbe there, with Jaryd at herside. Pray that theywere notneeded.“What's the count now?”

she asked, trying to keep hervoice level. Her heart wasstartingtorace,likeastartledhorse thatwished to ripclearofherchestandgogallopingoffacrossthefields.“Five thousand two

hundred and change,” Tyrunreplied. “There's more

behind,scatteredingroupsallacross the Shudyn Divide.”Even as he spoke, Sashaspiedsomelatecomerspeltingtowardtherear,franticnottomiss the action. She couldalmost see theirdisappointment when anofficer directed them towardthe reserve. “We would bestronger every moment wewait,but theafternoongrowslatealreadyandthecloudwillmakethedarkcomesooner.”

Sashashookherhead.“Nowaiting. As soon as you'reready.” Any longer and herown racing heart would killher.“A gesture from the

commander is customary,”said Tyrun, indicating thewaitingranksbehind.Clearlyhe read the lookonher face,for he shrugged,apologetically. “Not to do socould be considered a badomen.”

Sasha reined Peg about infrustration, dug in her heelsand raced uphill to what sheconsidered would be thecentre of that vast front line.Then she stopped, pulled thesword from over hershoulder,stoodinthestirrupsandhelditaloft.“LENAYIN!” she yelled.

The answering roar gave hertheworst goosebumpsof herlife, so loud it seemed itmight blow her from the

saddle. Thousands of bladesspearedtheairandthousandsof voices yelled, again andagain. She turned andgalloped back to hervanguard, still waving theblade. As she approached,Tyrungavethesignalandthewhole front line began tomove. The Battle of Ymothwasunderway.Exactlywhichbattle ofYmoth,whether thefifth, or the fifteenth, or thefiftieth, Sasha was far from

certain.Peg splashed through the

stream,Sashaholdinghim toacanterupthefarbankasthefront line reached the streamunevenly. The waterdissolved in a frothing massofhoovesandSashasparedalong lookbehind, seeing thatTyrun had pulled aside forher own formation to passand headed now for thegreater mass of horse stillwaiting behind. The last of

her riders cleared the streamandsheliftedPeg'sspeedtoagentlerun.Thewayaheadlayrelatively flat along theriverbank. Tall poplars linedthe river andupon the river'sfarsidewerefieldsandfieldsofwheatandoats.Thefirstfencewaswooden

and high, but Peg cleared itwithease.Sashaswunginhersaddletoseethefrontlinedothe same, even the smallestdussieh having little

difficulty.Her spirits lifted alittle more—one moreconcern out of the way. Hervanguard spread out, still infront, clearing her view.Ymothitselfremainedlargelyout of sight behind the oneremaining ridge, blocking aview of those lower foothillswhere it cut across theriverside fields. She clearedanother fence and saw thebridge emerging ahead, pastintervening poplars. The

ridge approached, and thenCaptain Akryd's left flankseemedtolift,acceleratingtoclear the rise and the fencethatranalongit.The river curled gently to

theright,andsuddenly, therewas Ymoth. There wasindeed a wall—perhaps onlyhalftheheightofthewallsofHalleryn,buta stonewallallthe same. Within, and risingas the foothills rose, shecould see the town itself—a

mass of thatched roofsclustered for protectionbehind that stone.Surprisingly, there seemed tobe little damage. Ymoth hadnotbeenrazedtotheground.Perhaps the Hadryn hadproved less barbaric thanshe'dfeared.The rear of the town rose

considerably higher than itsriver-facing wall anddwellings seemed to blendinto the tree-covered folds.

Still Sasha could see noopposition. But the assaultcould be seen now anddefenders would bepreparing.Makethemrush.Shegaveayell,andawave

of her sword, and Pegaccelerated to a full gallop.Anansweringyellcamefromathousandthroatsbehindandthethunderofhoovesbecamean earth-shaking roar. Sashacleared the next fence, aruined farmhouse flashed by,

andshepurposelyslowedPegwith several gentle tugs lestheoutdistancethevanguard.She could see archers on

the walls now, as CaptainAkryd'sflankbegantodividefrom her own, headed forthose nearside slopes andtrees. Then she sawmovementwithinthetrees,anemerging line of archers,bows at the ready. Behindthem, holding the flattestuphill ridges, were lines of

infantry, the front ranksbristlingwithspears.She tore her vision away

from that impendingcollision, for the bridge wasapproaching and the Ymothwalloppositeontheleft.Theleft flankwould be engagingnow,butshecouldnothearathing above the poundingroar.ArchersupontheYmothwall stood, drew and fired…Sasha could not help butspare the flying shafts a

sideways eye as they fellbehind. If they hit anyone,shedidnotturntosee.She focused all her

attentioninsteadupontheleftturn she had to make ahead,awayfromtheriveranduptoYmoth's far flank…not tootight, she urged herself,crouched low on Peg'sheaving back. The entireformation would follow theline she set. Too tight, andthey would stretch and

scatter.Nottightenough,andthey would still be turningwhen the reverse came,followed by confusion andcollisions.Thewallflewpaston the left, the river poplarson the right, archers loosingsoundless arrows from theparapets—everything wassoundlessbutthecharge…She switched the sword to

her left hand and held it out,beginning the left sweep asthe wall ended. About they

curled, racing hard as theground began to rise,thundering toward theraggedtreeline where the horseswould surely begin to slowagainst the steepeningincline…And there theywere, suddenly a cascade ofcavalry bursting from thetrees ahead, plunging downthe slope toward them.Banneryd cavalry, she couldseetheredandblackbanners,andthegleamofheavymail,

their yells now audible fromthe fore, testament alone totheirnumber.Sasha waved her sword in

a wide circle, swinging Pegwide to the right as the rightflankswungandtherearalsoturned. She could feel Peg'ssurprise, fighting the rein,thinking the direction layahead…Sasha pulled tighteras the main body began toswing, the huge mass ofmounted soldiers somehow

managing to avoid collisionas they circled and doubledback on themselves. Therewas some jostling, somebunching up, some ridersspurringwidercirclestoclearthe congestion…Sasha threwa glance back over hershoulder and saw theBanneryd cavalrydescendingupon them in a huge, triple-ranked line, bristling withswords as they hurtleddownhill. This was going to

beclose.She found herself at the

rear-left flank, riding hardamidst her vanguard andstragglers,closest totheriveras her ragged formation fledbefore her. Clods of earthflew and pelted about likerain, the grass torn black byhooves. On the slope,Banneryd cavalry werecutting closer to the Ymothwall, flying at great speed astheirranksdivided,individual

ridersbacking theirhorses tocatch their fleeing quarry.Suddenly there was anarmourlessriderinhervision,dark grey hair flying, ridingno hands with a huge bowdrawn across his body,aiming back behind his rightshoulder.Errollyn,andsurelyanimpossibleshotamidstthelurching confusion, theraining debris and the factthat she'd picked him for aright-hander, not a left…he

fired, and a Banneryd riderfell with the shaft preciselythroughhisunarmouredneck.If Sasha hadn't seen it withher own eyes, she'd neverhave believed it possible.Errollyn drew another arrowfromhishipquiver,balancedthebowuponhishorse'sneckastheyclearedanotherfence,straightened, drew, and firedall in one motion. AnotherBannerydriderfell,clutchinghisneck.

The front Banneryd riderswere closing on severalstraggling dussieh, yellingfuriously, swords brandishedin eager anticipation. Sointentweretheythattheydidnotpausetoponderwhytheirquarry, which hadapproached in such a wideformation, now allowedthemselves to stretch in anarrowlineclosetotheriver.Nor did they look at thearchers on the walls, no

longer shooting but wavingfrantically, gesturing tosomething ahead that theycould see, but their riderscould not. Those closest tothe wall did see, their viewahead clear. Perhaps theyyelled warning, but in theroarofthecharge,littlecouldbeheard.Captain Tyrun's main

formation tore past Sasha'sretreating feint with ahowling battle cry, amassed

blur of horses and flashingswords by Sasha's right,smashed into theunsuspecting Bannerydpursuit.Behindthem,Sasha'sformationwasnowwheeling,doubling back for a secondtime. Some of thoseBanneryd in closest pursuitbrokeoffimmediatelytohelptheir brethren. Otherscontinued,intentonthekill…Sasha wove to the right,trying to catch one on the

blindside,onlyforErrollyntoshoot him off his horse. Arider with steel-blue hairbeheaded another in passing,andthentherewerehorsesonall sides crisscrossing,weavingandreversingmadly.Sasha barely missed

colliding with one of herown,spurredPegfastaroundone falling, rollinghorse andsawaBannerydridercuttwoofhermenfromtheirsaddlesin quick succession. Another

came thundering at her andshe spurred Peg onto hisbackhand, thinking to duckand cut low…an arrowbuzzed from nowhere andupended that man too fromhis horse. There wasconfusion, beasts and menrolling underfoot, screamsand yells, whinnies andclashing steel. Ahead, aBanneryd rider fought aGoeren-yai saddle-to-saddle…the northerner

parried and slashed withsuperior skill, spurring hishorse at a vital moment andkilling theGoeren-yaiwith areversecut.And lost his head a

moment later as the blue-haired rider reappeared, thenreined around to gesturemadly at Sasha. “Thisway!”theserrinnamedTassiyelled.Itseemedasgoodadirectionas any, so Sasha followed asTassiplungedahead,weaving

between battling riders…andtheresuddenlywastallTerel,intervening in one contest tocut another Banneryd fromhis saddle. Sasha slashed atanother in passing, but wasparried, and galloped onregardless.Abruptly, she was clear,

following Terel and Tassiacross an open paddock nearthe river. They leaped afence,Sashalookingabouttofind Errollyn directly behind

(how long had he beenthere?),threeofhervanguardriders close behind him, andherenowontheleftwaslittleblondeAisha,abloodybladein her hand, watching thatgreat,sprawlingmassofmenand horses for possiblethreats.FourBanneryd riderscametearingdirectlyatthem,angling across in front tointercept Tassi's lead. Tassipointedherswordatthem,asa galloping rider might

casually indicate atroublesome rock to hertrailingcomrades.Errollyn shot the leader,

the other three swervingabout him as he came off,bounced,thendraggedwithafoot in the stirrups. Aishathendashedtowardtheminaburst of speed, as Terelturnedmoresharplyfromthelead. One of the three wasalready separated from hiscomrades,andnowconceded

Terel'ssuperiorangle,reiningwider…and directly intoAisha's path, slashing as shecutpastbehind,theBannerydclutching a half severed arm.Theother tworacedatTassi.ErrollynshotonethroughthesideandTassicutbehind theother,gallopinguponhisfarside, then swerving awaywhenhe tried tobackhandather head. Both cleared thenext fence, and the survivingBanneryd tried to close once

more on Tassi…and did notseelittleAishanowracinguponhisblindside,until itcosthim his head. Sasha passedthe Banneryd with thewounded arm as he tried topull aside, but her vanguardwere not so merciful, andkilledhiminpassing.Theyclearedanotherfence

and then cut between ariverside farmhouse and theriverbank poplars, leaveswhipping at Sasha's face.

Uponthe left,what remainedof the Banneryd main forcewas falling back, spurringmadly up the slope downwhich they'd charged.Archers fired sporadicallyfrom thewalls, fearing to hittheir own men. Others werebreaking clear of the fight—great, untouched ranks ofmen,gallopingwideforspaceinwhichtopursuethefleeingnortherners,andSasha'sheartsoared to see so many

unscathed.Her plan trap hadworked.Tassi slowed a little to let

Sasha catch up, and theycurved away from the rivertoward the slope. Peg wastiring now, his black flanksfrothingwhitewithsweat,butat full gallop he still closedthe gap to Tassi's horse inlittle time. One of Sasha'svanguard still had his royalbanner flying and Sashaturned to wave him forward.

Already, others of her menwere seeing, pointing andthen yelling to companions,urgingthemtofollow.“We must stay close on

their heels!” Errollyn yelledashecamealongside.“Itwillhinder their archers if ourlead arrives amidst theirstragglers!”Some racing riders gained

on the fleeingBanneryd, andhackedthemfromthesaddle.Agroupofnorthernerspeeled

away, spurring desperatelyfor the rocky treeline andsomesafety…Errollyncalmlyshotone fromhis saddle andreloadedwiththeairofamanpickingoffstrawtargets.Thevictim's comrades wheeledabout in panic to see suchaccuracy…Errollyn shotanotherwithathudthatfairlycatapulted the man from hissaddle,andtheremainingpairwere slashed and hacked bysixracingGoeren-yaiasthey

pelted past. Sasha could notresist sparing Errollyn anincredulous look. He hadn'tmissedyet…ornot that she'dseen.Perhapshecouldn't.The incline culminated in

an uneven line of pines.Within those pines, beyondthe racing horses ahead,Sasha could see a row ofsharpened stakes driven intotheground—atypicaldefenceagainstcavalry.Archerswerefiringthroughthosestakesas

the first men of the columnarrived…some fell, othersreinedaboutinpanic,butfirewas sporadic as Bannerydand rebel horsemen mixed,the retreating with theadvancing. Dussieh ridersspurred their little mountsstraight for the rifts in thetreeline where water runoffmade a rocky cleft and thelineofspikesfaltered.Furthertotherightflank,Sashasawaline of such horsemen racing

forthestreamthere,splashingthrough shallowwater to runupon the rocky stream bed,where surely no greatwarhorse could hold hisfooting.A tangled mass of horses

reeledamidsttreesandspikes—Banneryd cavalry nowtrapped against their owndefences and fighting fortheir lives, rebel cavalryseekingawaythrough,othersdismounting to hack at the

wooden stakes and make apath while dodging thethrusts of Banneryd infantryspearsfromtheotherside.Inseveral places, Sasha sawdefences had been left openfor the Banneryd cavalry toretreat, and those nowdissolved into a mass offighting, hacking men andthrashing horses, as massedinfantry tried to prevent anybreakthrough whilstadmitting their own through

thegap.She, the serrin and her

three men of the vanguardwove past milling, circlinghorsemen, dodging past thefirst trees andwincing at theoccasional hiss of arrowfire.Past the rowof stakes,Sashacaught glimpses of dussiehriders now behind the lines,wheeling and hacking atinfantry, who brokeformation to face the newthreat at their rear…the

defenders had not bet on theagility of little dussieh whileplanningtheirdefences.Morewere streaming up a narrowriftahead,anincrediblesight,as long-haired Goeren-yaispurred their wiry littleanimals across rocks, steepsides and tangledundergrowth.Sasha pointed with her

sword,andsawErrollynnod.Theywheeled downslope fora run-up as the two stakes

nearest the rift camedown…other horsemen were alreadyspurring toward it, yelling asthey went, as those waitingjostled for position to maketheir own charge. Sashayelledforthemtomakeway,and men did so, lookingaround in startlement as theyrealised who it was. SashaduginherheelsandsentPegracing, the serrin closebehind. She saw infantry onher left fighting madly to

close the gap, more rebelscircling back to stop them, adussieh going downscreaming under spear andswordthrust…Peg hurtled up the slope

and rushed over the brokendefensive stumps,Sasha thenturned him left amidst thetrees in a wide circle,realisingimmediatelythatthebestwaytodefendthebreachwas to outflank the mentryingtocloseitandcutthem

to pieces. From this side ofthe stakes, she could see themass of infantry buildingagainst perhaps thirty of herhorsemen, who wheeled andcircled,swingingfuriouslyasthe foot soldiers tried tooverwhelm them, bringingdownseveral.Sheacceleratedto top speed, weavingnarrowly past the sides oftrees…an arrow felled oneinfantryman in front, theothers scattering as the

massive black warhorsecrashed through. Sashaslashed from side to side,more in hope of creatingconfusion than clean kills,reining Peg about before thestakes, lashing and kicking.Then the serrin were inamongst it, all saveErrollyn,whoheldbackandfelledanyinfantrymanwhothreatenedablindside swing at hiscomrades.A horn was blowing

somewhere above thescreaming, yelling andcrashing, and then theinfantry were falling back,attempting to maintain somekind of order, officersscreaming at those whopanicked and tried to run.They retreated along the lineofpikes,dodgingbehindtreesto avoid cavalry attacks—they had shields, a most un-Lenay device amongst footsoldiers, and they used them

to form an armouredperimeterwheretheycould.Sasha spurred Peg into

another run, headed upslopeoncemore through the trees,searching for any sign of asecond defensive line thatmight fall upon them frombeyond…there seemed to benone. It seemed that threethousand men were notenough to hold Ymothwithout its wall complete—theseslopingflankswere too

wide to allow a sufficientlystrong first line, plus asecondaryline.Thedefendershadgambledonastrongfirstline,andlost.She'dwon, the astonishing

thought occurred to her inthat instant. Bad defensivestrategy, perhaps…fortuitousoffensive strategy, certainly.But a victory, all the same.Yetmenwerestilldying.Shehadtoenditfast.“Get to the town!” she

yelledatthetopofhervoice,waving her sword forattention. She reined up alittle as her vanguardflagbearer caught up,attracting attention oncemore…and hopefully notfrom surviving Bannerydarchers. “Get to Ymoth! ToYmoth!Takethetown!”Sheracedthroughthetrees

as fast as she dared, otherhorsemennowbreakingawayfrom their engagements to

follow—and that tricklebecame a flood. Rocks andundergrowth confused theirpassage in places, breakingthe smooth carpet of pineneedles.Finally, the land fellaway into a sloping shoulderwhere the trees became thin,with ferns and bush holdingthickly to the slopes. At thebottom of the shallow valleyran a stream. Downstream,where the valley sidesdiminished, was another row

of stakes, manned by adefensivelineofinfantryinawidehalfcircle.Herewasthesecondline,encirclingYmothwhere the stone wall wouldhavecontinued if theUdalynhad had a fewmore years tocompleteit.Thefallbackline,for disasters such as this. IftheBannerydhadnoplacetofallbackto, theyweresurelyfinished.Already there were

dussieh-riderspouringoffthe

slope and along the littlevalley side, pelting at a pacethat nowarhorse riderwouldhave dared along slopingground. Archers fired, andseveral fell, or had horsesshot from beneath them,plunging head-over-saddleinto the turf, but the otherswove past undeterred.Ragged, running infantrywere rushing to the fallbacklinefromleftandrightflanks,some staggering and

wounded, sliding through thegaps between stakes…andSasha's eyes widened as sherealised that those gaps,althoughtightenoughtodetera warhorse, were barelyenoughtostopadussieh.Dussiehridersattacked the

gapsbetweenthosesharpenedpoints fearlessly, tearing intothe thin defensive lines,cutting men down, thenchargingpast thefirsthousesof upslope Ymoth to hit the

opposite defences frombehind. Infantry abandonedthe second line perimeter tointercept, creating space forother approaching riders todismount and begin hackingthroughthestakes.Andnow,fromtheopposingside,ridersof Captain Akryd's assaultwerepouringdowntheslope.Stakes came down in severalplaces and warhorses anddussieh charged through,their riders swinging at any

footsoldier foolish enough totryandstopthem.Sasha splashed along the

streamsideatatrot,watchingtheroutunfoldandsearchingfor her own way through,when Errollyn partiallyblocked her way. “NoSashandra,” he said, holdinga hand out. “You've doneenough. You'll only presentsome beaten Bannerydcrossbowman with a grandtarget with which to redeem

his honour. Your men knowwhattodo,letthemdoit.”Banneryd infantry still

trying to reach the cover oftown buildings were cutdown as they ran, bodiestumbling bloodily down thestream-side slope. Furtherback along the flanks, thesoundsof fightingcontinued,although drowned by thethunder of hooves and thetriumphantyellsofriders.Yetmore riders poured through

theever-wideninggapsinthedefenses,anendlessstreamofmounted soldiery racing intoYmoth. Errollyn was right,Sasha realised. She was thecommander.Now she had toknow what the casualtieswere upon Captain Akryd'sflank. The battle for Ymothmayhavebeenwon,buttherewasalongwaytogoyet.She urged Peg up the

opposing slope, stayingwideof the oncoming rush of

horsemen heading the otherway. Soon enough CaptainAkryd himself came towardheratacanter,severalofhispersonalguardathisflanks.“Well,” he said cheerfully

as he reined up beside her,“that's the first one down!”Sasha suffered a surge ofrelief to know that she wasnot the only one thinkingahead.Akrydwasgaspingforair, and his horse frothedfoam from the mouth with

each snorting breath, but heseemed healthy. One of hismenclutchedatagashedleg,his companion nowmanoeuvringalongside to tryand stop the bleeding. “Didyou ever see such a poordefensive spacing?” Akrydcontinued,eyesalivewiththelightof recentbattle. “Stupidnorthern fools, if they'dspacedtheirdamnstakestheymighthavehadachance!Wemust have rushed them to a

frenzy,gettingheresosoon!”“What do you think you

lost?” Sasha asked grimlyabovetheongoingthunderofhooves.Overbythestakesonthis flank, past the onrush ofhorses, she could see littlegroups of infantrysurrendering. Northernersrarely surrendered, or so thestories had it. In truth, it hadbeenalongtimesincealargeenough battle had tested thattheory. A battle against

someone other than theCherrovan, who rarely tookprisoners, making the wholequestionirrelevant.Akryd exhaled hard, his

expression darkeningimmediately. “Oh…damn it,hundreds.Therewasasecondline, they fell on us once thedussieh broke through, a lotof them fell…”Sasha's heartsank indismay.So therehadbeen a second line upon thesouthernflank,justnotonthe

northern one—they'd hadcavalry instead, as she'dsuspected, waiting on theblindside of their approach.Those first brave dussieh-riders to penetrate the linemust have been wiped out.“We got through eventually,but…at least three hundred,M'Lady. Spirits know howmanysmallerwounds.”Three hundred on one

flank. At least that many onher own, either dead or

unable to fight further.Manyhorses. Dear spirits, it was alot. Awonderful victory, theanalytical side of her mindknew. But…it seemed like alot.Itseemedlikefar,fartoomany.“M'Lady?” said Akryd.

Possibly hewas unsettled bythe look on her face. Shestraightened herself with aneffort, and tried to thinkrationally. “What do youinstruct?”

“Get into the town.Absolutely no pillage, Iforbidit.”“Aye,M'Lady, Idoubt it'll

be a problem, but I'll see toit.”“I want to know what's

become of the inhabitants. Iwant senior officers roundedup alive. Then I want acomplete reassembly as soonas possible, I want horsescared for as a matter ofurgency, I know they're

exhausted but we simplydon't know when the nextfightwill come.Wemust beready.”“Aye, M'Lady,” Akryd

agreed, finding no argumentwiththat.“And someone find

Tyrun!” Sasha added as hemadetomoveoff.“Iwishtospeakwithhimattheearliest.I'll assess the casualties overhere and see what can bedoneforthewounded.”

“Aye, M'Lady.” Akrydrode off without furthercomment, and Sasha pressedher heels to Peg's heavingsides once more, asking fornomorethanawalk.Hegaveher a trot regardless, and shepattedhissweatyneck.Banneryd prisoners were

beingmarchedfromthetreesdownonto thefields, flankedbymountedwarriors. Bodieslay strewn beneath the trees—mainly Banneryd, but not

entirely. A horse kickedfeebly in a pool of blood…Sasha rode past, unable topersuade herself to do more,butTassidismountedbriefly,drawing her sword. All theserrinrodesilently,surveyingthe carnage withexpressionless stares. Thiswas foreign in Saalshen, thisviolence—at least since theinvasion of King Leyvaan.Probably itwas thefirst timeanyofthemhadseenitslike,

on this scale. Well…theyweren'ttheonlyones.Shefeltutterly numb now that theblood-pumping fury had lefther. For the first time in herlife, she was not entirelycertain of her own emotionalstate.Itscaredher.SherodePegthroughagap

in the row of defensivestakes, the earth torn by thechargeofhundredsofhooves.Here were more slain menand horses, mostly arrow-

struck. Some horses stillkicked and struggled,pitifully, but this time Tassiremained mounted. This,perhaps, was too much foreven the most disciplinedserrin warrior. Riderlesshorses wandered, whileotherswereheldingroupsbysoldiers.Quitea fewsoldierswere tending to thewoundedand searching along thegrassy hillside for those stillliving, checking each fallen

body in turn. The reserve,Sasha realised, recognisingseveral—they had followedbehindandhaltedherewheretheyweremostneeded.She saw one man, a

Verenthane, with short hairand an eight-pointedmedallion upon his chest,kneelingbyafallencomrade.He was weeping. Hiscomrade'slonghairfellabouttheman'slegs,themotionlessheadinhislap,sightlesseyes

gazingskywardfromwithinaspirit mask of intricate darkcurls.Then Sasha saw a horse

she recognised and rodeacrosstheslopetowardwhereseveral soldiers had gatheredthree wounded so far, andwere attempting to aid them.Others carried a fourth evennow,anarrowinhisstomach,and resisting strangledscreams at the pain. Jarydwas assisting as best he

could,one-armed.Aslimgirlinpantsandajacketkneltbyanother man who wasstruggling to breathe, a shaftinhischest.Sheclutchedhishand tightly in her own,whilst trying to pour waterfrom a skin into his mouth,waiting for those treating thenextman in line to find timetomoveon.Without aword, the serrin

dismounted and beganunstrapping saddlebags for

their medicines. “Sofy?”Sasha said hoarsely, still inher saddle. From within thewalls of Ymoth, there camenow the sounds of battle,cries and clashing steel. Thesmell of blood waseverywhere,and thesweatofhorses.Sofydidnot lookup.“Sofy, I'd rather you weren'there. There could be acounterattack any moment,this is still hostile land andyou're right on the field

they'llcomefrom.”Sofy looked up. Her face

was pale, her brown hairwindblown and tangled.Bloodspeckedhercheek.Hereyes, strangledwithemotion,also burned with somethingdeeper, and far, far harderthan Sasha had ever seenbefore.“Goandwinthewar,Sasha,”theyoungestprincessof Lenayin said quietly. Hervoice quavered, but only alittle. “Go and give orders

elsewhere.I'mbusy.”

“RYSHA, YOU HAVE TO STAY

WITH ESSEY! It's dangerous!”Daryd had left Essey in thegrassy enclosure within thewalls, now crowded withother horses. Everywherethere were foreign soldiers,shouting orders, musteringhorses by the enclosure's

stream for a drink, searchingfor feed. Therewere clustersof prisoners, stacks ofweaponsandarmour,andtheoccasional dead body—although mostly the fightinghad not spread this deeplyintotown.“I want to see Mama and

Papa!”Ryshashoutedathim,veryupset.“Rysha,no!”Darydwasso

frustrated, and so scared.How could he explain to a

little girl? How could hemake her see withoutterrifying her? “Look, there'sbadmenallthroughthetown,it'snotsafeforyou!Stayherewith Essey where there aregood men to look afteryou…”“No, no, no!” Rysha

yelled,hereyestearingup.“Iwant to seeMamaandPapa!I'llgowithoutyou,Iwill!”Darydknew itwasno idle

threat—cautious Rysha did

not make threats unless shemeant it.Hegrittedhis teeth.“Okay…comeon.”He took her hand and

ducked through the timberfence. The town looked soachinglyfamiliar…andyetsodifferent.Timberhouses,andsome stone ones, to eithersideofnarrow,pavedstreets.Manygardensweredamaged,fences destroyed, fruit treesstripped of their bounty.Some houses were missing

windows…and he saw withshock as they rounded acorner that where YuanWenys's house had stood,there now lay a crumbled,charredruin.Rysha gasped. “Yuan

Wenys is going to be soangry!” Daryd pulled heraside as some soldiers camerunning up the path. Downsomesteps,Darydsawapairofbootsstickingoutfromthebushessurroundingthehouse

of Yuan Fershyn. He pulledRysha on quickly, butRyshaspared the body barely aglance. “Daryd, where isYuanWenys?”“I don't know, Rysha.”

Daryd tried to keep the fearfrom his voice. “I think he'llbe in the valley, Mama andPapatoo.”“Why can't they be here?”

Rysha protested, as if aboutto cry oncemore. “Iwant toseethemnow!”

Oh please, please, pleasedon't let thembehere,Darydwished at the spirits, harderthan he had ever wishedanything before in his life.Pleaseletthemhaveescaped.The stream that ran

through the heart of Ymothwas crowded with soldiers,some walking, some resting,some drinking fromwaterskins. Daryd wonderedwhy they weren't drinkingfrom the stream like Papa

always didwhen he returnedfrom the training hall acrossthe little bridge. GraspingRysha'shandmoretightly,hehalf-ranalongthestreamside,past the front verandahs offamiliarwooden houses, pastMrs.Karnysh's berry bushes,past the old tree that leanedout over the stream. Theswinging rope still dangledabovethewater.He'dthoughthewassobravethefirsttimehe'd swungon that rope.But

nowherealisedthathehadn'ttruly known what braverywas.Andthenitwasthere,their

house by the stream bendwith a good view over themain wall, and a glimpse ofthe wide Yumynis beyond.Thefruit treeswerebare,butthe yard seemed intact…Rysha dragged at him,desperately,butherefusedtorelease her hand.Therewerea pair of soldiers sitting on

the verandah, helmets inhand, looking sweaty andtired.“Mama!” Rysha cried as

they leapt the stair andpushed in the front door.“Mama! Papa!” The frontroom was a mess, the tableoverturned, chairs broken.Mama's kitchen pots weresmashed, the contents ofshelves strewn across thefloor. Papa's swords weremissing from theirwall rack,

however,andmostofthepotsandpansweretoo.MamaandPapa must have taken them,Darydthoughtwithasurgeofunspeakablerelief.Theymusthave taken what they couldand headed for the valley.The men would havedefended the bridge andbought time for the womenand children. More warriorswould have come from thevalleytohelp—he'dheardhisfather talking about it with

other men before, all theplans they'dmade in case ofattack.Surelythatwaswheretheyallwerenow.They searched the rest of

the house and the rear yard,but found only ransackedrooms and torn vegetableplots.When they returned tothemainroom,Ryshawasinspeechless tears. “I told you,Rysha, they've gone to thewall!” Daryd insisted.“They'll be safe there. It's

good they're not here, itwasn'tsafehere.”Helookedup,realisingthe

two soldiers had followedthemintothemainroom.Onewas Goeren-yai, with longhair and tattoos, the othershort-haired with aVerenthane medallion. Bothlooked concerned. TheVerenthane asked him aquestion,indicatingthehousearound them. “This is yourhouse?” he seemed to be

asking.“Aye, this is our house,”

Daryd replied, helplessly.Had all the other villagersescaped also? All his auntsand uncles, nephews andnieces?Smyttheblacksmith?Agry the farmer's son, whowas a bit funny in the head,andhis rightarmdidn'tworkproperly,butwhowasalwayscheerful and smiling whenDarydwent tomarket tobuyvegetables for Mama's

cooking? Old Mrs. Calwynand her many rabbits? Hedidn't know, he just didn'tknow…The two soldiers

exchanged grim looks. TheGoeren-yai said somethingelse, beckoning Daryd tocome. Something in hismannerwasvery seriousandhisgesturewasnotthatofanadult toachild,butmoretheinvitation of one man toanother. The Verenthane

soldier came and scooped upRysha, who cried on hisshoulder, having lost all fearof Verenthanes somewherealongtheride,especiallyafterlong days in the company ofPrincess Sofy. Daryd wentwith the Goeren-yai soldier,who ledhim from thehouse,theothermanfollowingclosebehindwithRysha.They walked downstream,

past soldiers and the brokendebris that had been the

streamside market stall. Thestream, Daryd noticed, wasred. Men must have died inthe water, further uphill.When they reached themaingate in the defensive wall,Darydcouldbarelyrecogniseit. The training hall, whichhad stood beside the gate,wasapileofashandcharredtimbers. The big trees thathad surrounded the hall, andshaded it beneath widebranches on a summer's day,

were strangely scarred, thebark torn in a series of half-circular cuts.And therewerebig iron nails driven into thetrunks, with chains danglingfromthem.On the other side of the

gate,alsoagainstthebigwall,thestablesandadjoiningbarnstillstood.Somesoldiershadgatheredthere,standingaboutsome limp things on theground.Daryd'ssoldierescortledhimthatway.Someofthe

other soldiers saw, and stoodasideforhim.They were bodies, Daryd

saw.Mostlynaked,dirtyandbloody. He stood over thenearest, barely recognising itasaperson.Ithadtattoosanddirty, long hair. Suddenly herecognised the grass-spirittattoo spiralling up the rightarm. It was Farmer Tangryn.Orrather,ithadbeenFarmerTangryn. Farmer Tangrynhad been a strong man, but

the corpse's ribs wereshowing.Andhedidn'tsmell.Therewerescarsonhiswristswherethey'dboundhim.Anda stab wound through theribs.Probablythey'dkilledallthe prisoners as soon as theattackbegan.Darydwas amazed at how

calm he was. Everythingseemed surreal. All thesoldiers were looking at himwith grim expectation. Theyknew what this was. Well,

Daryd thought, so did he.He'd heard the stories of theCatastrophe,sinceasfarbackas he could remember. Heknewwhat theHadryndidtoUdalynprisoners.There were five other

bodies. Three he could notrecognise. Two were Mrs.Castyl, who lived nearer theupper slope, and old YuanAngy,whostilllikedtospearfishintherivershallowsonawarm day, despite his years.

Nomore,itseemed.Daryd turned back toward

thepileofashesthathadbeenthe training hall. Men weresifting through the rubble,poking with swords. Evennow,aman foundsomethingmetal and examined it—aring, Daryd thought. Hestepped across to a comradeand dropped the ring in anupturned helmet that mancarried. Soon another manfoundsomethingelseanddid

the same. Then another manfound a further object andpicked it up, reverently. Hecarried it from the ashes, ashis fellow searchers madespiritsignsorholysigns,andplaced it on the ground,whereitformedthelatestinalong line of similar objects.Human skulls. Therewere atleast twenty.The northernershadn'tjustburnedthetraininghall, they'd put people in itfirst.

Still…Ymoth and itssurrounding region had closeto two thousand. This herewas just twenty-five people,maybe thirty. Surelymost ofthem had escaped. Surelythese were just the unluckyfewwho had been caught inthewrongplaceat thewrongtime.Hisgazeshiftedbacktothe big tree. He knew whatthe scars were now—whipmarks. His people wouldhave been chained to that

tree, tortured and mutilated,until…until what? Whatcould they have told theirtorturers?TherewasnogreatwealthhiddenaroundYmoth.As for the valley's defences,well…they hadn't changedmuch since the last time theHadryn attacked a hundredyears ago. What could thenortherners possibly havegained by doing such thingstohispeople?Soldiers pushed a man

forward, arms twistedbehindhisback.Theprisonerhadtheblond hair of manynortherners—a man in histhirties, but no companysoldier. He wore good, arm-lengthchainmail,heavybootsandhardleatherleggings,buthissurcoatborethecrestofanoble house. A nobleman.Darydhadheardofthem,too.Strange ways, theVerenthaneshad,toplaceoneman above another by birth.

MasterJarydwasanoblemantoo,he'dgathered.ButMasterJaryd would never give theorders that this man hadgiven.The soldiers yelled

questions at the noblemanand hit him, pointing to thebodies. The northernersnarled in contempt. Saidsomething, shortly, and spatnear the bodies. One of thesoldiers raised hisweapon infury, but another stopped

him.Tookhisownswordandoffered it to Daryd. Darydlooked at the sword. At thecold,hatefulnorthernface.Atthebodieson thegroundandtheashpilebythewall.Then he strode forward,

ignoring the offered sword,and drew his knife instead.Soldiersforcedthenorthernertohisknees.Darydsteppedtoone side, as he'd once seenUdalyn warriors do to acapturedHadrynraider.Then

hecuttheman'sthroatwithasingle, hard slash. Bloodspurted and flowed. Soldiersheldthemanup,thenlethimcollapse. He kicked andspluttered,thenwentlimp.Daryd stared down at the

corpse. It had been so easy.He'd always imagined itwouldbeharderthanthat.Hefelt no elation, no surge ofsatisfied revenge.Yet he feltnoregret,either.Ifthereweremore northerners present,

he'd have killed them too.He'dseenwhatthey'ddonetohispeople,andhenowknewfor certain what it wouldmean, in this battle, for hispeople to lose. Killing waseasy. Living, it seemed, wasthehardpart.Hewiped his knife on the

back of his victim, andsheathed it. Men regardedhim with hard, thoughtfuleyes.Whenhewalked to theashpile, to view the remains

ofvillagershe'donceknown,nomanmovedtoaccompanyhim,orguidehim,orpathimon the head. His Wakeningremained many years away,yet his blade had tasted thebloodofenemies.Hewasnotyet a man, but today, DarydYuvenar was no longer achild.

Captain Tyrun was dead.

Sasha stood in the centralcourtyard of Ymoth. Tyrun'sbody lay upon a low stonedais, hands folded on hisbreast, wrapped in his cloakto hide the drenching blood.Acrowdofmenhadgatheredand a light, misting rain fellfrom a bleak andweary sky.From the surrounding town,there carried the yells andinstructionsofmensearchingfrom house to house. Buthere,therewassilence.

A Verenthane corporalfrom the Falcon Guard, whowas learned in the ways ofthe temple, performed theVerenthane rites. Tyrun hadbeen carried directly to thisplace frombefore theYmothwall, and this assembly hadgathered fast, lacking anytime for delay. He had beenkilled, men said, in theopening moments of thecharge, when the formationhe had been leading had

plowed into the Bannerydflank. Tyrun had cut downone man, fended a second,thenbeenstruckbyathird.Ithad happened so fast, astunned sergeant had said.Northern cavalry weresuperblyskilled,eveninsuchdire circumstances. Manymen of those forward rankshad been lost before theBanneryd had been drivenback.AtSasha'sside,Jarydstood

impassive and pale. Men ofthe Falcon Guard, inparticular, appeared shocked.Sashaworried for them.Andworried for the entirecampaign,tohavelostitstruecommandersoearly.Shewasthe figurehead, perhaps, butthis victory was surelyTyrun's.Withouthimkeepingthings together, and offeringsage advice, she'd have beenhopelessly lost fromthefirst.But she dared not suggest

suchathing,lestthemenlosehope. She dared not shed atear, lest the men recall thatshewas, after all, just a girl,whoever her absent umanmightbe.The Verenthane corporal

completed his rites, andstepped back. Then from thecrowd came Jaegar—stillalive,Sashahaddiscoveredtoher immense relief, as wereall herBaerlyn friends. Theyhad been in the rear half of

Captain Akryd's attack andhad escaped the initialcasualties with barely ascratch. The luck of it allstunned her. Some villageshad lost numerous men bysimply being in the wrongplace at the wrong time.Otherswereunscathed.Itwasoutrageously unfair. And sherecalled, suddenly,Kessligh'stired derision of heroccasional statements ofmoral certitude. “Nothing's

fair,” he'd toldher. “Fairnessis an invention of ours. Oneday,you'llunderstandthat.”Jaegar was stripped to the

waist.Tattoosspiralleddownhisenormouschestandmaderipplingpatternsuponthesixoutstanding segments of hisstomach. He swaggered tostand behindTyrun's body, asword in his right hand, aknifeinhisleft.Hishairhungfree of its braid, flowingloose upon massive

shoulders. The right side ofhis face—the side clear oftattoos—was streaked withthree red lines, beside whichhis tri-braid hung. Not onlyChieftain of Baerlyn, Jaegarwas Umchyl—spirit talker—forthetownanditsregions.Now, Jaegar extended his

arms, surveying the crowdwith the stern, wide eyes ofpower. “Umchyl!” theGoeren-yai chanted.“Umchyl! Umchyl!” The

armsextendedout,thenback,and Jaegar thumped himselfon the shoulders, wristscrossed at the heart,with thehilts of his blades. Once,twice, and fortunate-threetimes.“This day shall mark the

passing of many greatwarriors!” Jaegar announced,in the slow, lilting chant ofceremonial Lenay. He staredabout at the crowd, bladesextended,musclesandtattoos

rippling. He looked like agod. Sasha found herselfstaring, spellbound. “Oneshall be appointed to leadthemto thenextworld!Whohereshallbearwitness?”“Umchyl! Umchyl!

Umchyl!”“This, our brother, was

namedTyrun!Hewasborntothe town of Banyth, in theprovinceofTyree!Hiswasawife, and his were threechildren! He did serve his

family with honour, and hiswasthehonourbroughttohistown,andhispeople!Hewasbrought before his spirits byhisfather,andhisspiritswerethe gods of Verenthane! Tothosespiritsdidhepresenthissoul, and they did find himworthy!”“Wor-thy! Wor-thy! Wor-

thy!” Sasha found herselfjoining in. This, she hadheardbefore.“We are gathered today

upon the ground of a greatvictory!ThegreatpeoplesofLenayin have joined togetherand brought honour in theirunity! The great gods ofVerenthane are strong! ThegreatspiritsoftheGoeren-yaiare strong! But together arethey strongest, and mosthonourable!We are gatheredtodaybeforetheloyalmenofVerenthane…” and hereJaegar's sword pointed toJaryd, “and before the brave

men of the Goeren-yai…!”andhisbladesweptacrossthevast crowd behind, “andbefore the wise ones ofSaalshen…” as the bladepointed toSasha's left,wherethe four serrin stoodentranced upon the edge ofthe dark stone, “and beforethedarkpoweroftheancientSynnich!”ThebladepointedatSasha.

AhissescapedthelipsoftheGoeren-yai, and the rustling

murmur of many spirit signsbeing made. Sasha staredback at Jaegar. She didn'tquitebelievehe'ddonethattoher in front of all thesepeople. Surely Jaegar hadnever thought of her in thatway.Hadhe?“Let thembe joined in the

sky as they are on the earth!Tyrun of Banyth shall leadandthefallenofYmothshallfollow, Goeren-yai andVerenthane together, as

brothers! Who shall bearwitnesstothisjourney?”Awordlesscheerfollowed,

full of passion, fists thrust inthe air. Repeated, twice, andthen the crowd began todisperse. Horses were beingwateredinlargegroupsdownby the river, surviving barnsand warehouses were beingsearched for any remainingfeed, and as the afternoondarkened toward evening,thereweremanythingsyetto

do.Buttheywalkednowwithagreaterpurposeintheirstepthantheyhadapproachedthisgathering, having learned ofTyrun'sdeath.Jaegar was putting his

undershirt back on, hismailshirt spread at his feet.Sasha walked up to him. “Iwish you hadn't done that,”shemurmured.Thebit abouttheSynnich,shemeant.“Would you deny it?”

Jaegar replied, eyebrows

raised. Sasha looked at herfeet, unable to answer that.Daring not to, lest men whoputtheirfaithinheroverhearand lose hope. And…and…for some other reason, too,that she could not trulydefine. “Besides,” Jaegarcontinued, bending to gatherhismail,“theyneededtohearit.Nowmore than ever.”Heheld the shirt up, effortlesslydespite its considerableweight,andsliditon.

Sasha turned then to lookfor Jaryd, and found himstanding by Tyrun's body.She walked over and put ahandonhisarm.“Come,”shesaid softly. “You areCommander of the FalconGuard now, for true andproper.Itwillnotdoforyourmentoseeyougrieving.”“YetIgrieveallthesame,”

said Jaryd. His voice wastight as he gazed down atTyrun'simpassive,silentface.

“Iamnothalfthecommanderhe was. I was guarding theprincess.Ididnotleadinthisbattle. I did not lead in anybattle.”“Youarewounded,”Sasha

replied, trying to bereasonable. “You cannot beexpectedto…”“Nothing can be expected

ofme,”Jarydsaidbitterly.“Iam nothing. I was angry atmy family's so-called friendsforstrippingmeofeverything

thatIhad.Now,IwonderifIever truly was anything.Perhaps father knew bestwhenhecalledmeworthless.Perhaps Family Nyvar couldnevertrulyhaveamountedtoanythingwithmeat itshead.The only thing I was evergood at was riding andfighting, and now when thelast people left in the worldwhom I love require myassistance, I can't even dothat.”

“Captain Tyrun is dead,and you take the opportunityto feel sorry for yourself,”Sasha said angrily. She feltfor Jaryd's suffering, but shesimply didn't have time forthis now. “You look aroundyou, Jaryd. You look hard.Many families have endedhere, and more tragediesunfoldedthanIcaretocount.These men fight forsomething bigger thanthemselves or their families.

If you can't feel that, if youcan't understand what it wasthat Tyrun died for, thenmaybe you'd be betterelsewhere.”Jarydstaredather,hisjaw

tight, his stare as hard asstone.“Ifmyservicesarenotrequired,” he said coldly,“thenIshallleave.”“Your services?” Sasha

replied, incredulously. “Whatdo you believe in, Jaryd?Why be here, if not for a

cause?”“I believe in nothing. My

family is no more, and mybrotherisdead.Alltheidealsof Verenthane brotherhoodandLenayhonourIhadbeentaughttobelievearelies.”“Then why are you still

here? Why come this far atall?”Jaryd looked down at

Tyrun. The lateness of thedaycastallcolour,alllife,alljoy to shadow. The light,

falling mist gathered at thetips of his lank hair as it fellabout his face. “The FalconGuard are all I have left,”Jaryd said quietly. “Yetwiththis arm, I cannot servethem.”“Then just be here to pick

up their wounded when theyfall!” Sasha retorted. “Jaryd,you're…you're such anarrogant, pigheaded…man!”It was, for the moment, theworst insult she could think

of. “You're so accustomed totheglory,andtheplaceinthelead, that you can't see thehonour in following. Just bethere!That'swhatoldCranykinBaerlyntoldme,hesaiditwasthegreatestlessonhehadto teach about life. Just turnup!”Hervanguardwerewaiting

forher,andherofficersweremoving further downhill intothetown.Fromsomewhereinthe town, a cry went up.

“Usyn's coming! Usyn'scoming!” And not beforetime, either. Sasha placed afinal, gentle hand on Jaryd'sarm and departed after theminhaste.MasterJaryd,of thefamilyonceknownasNyvar,stood over the body of hiscaptain in the misting rain.He stood with his weight onone leg, a dark sentinelamidst the sudden confusionof shouts, yells and hastypreparations.Ifhenoticed,or

feared,hegavenosign.

Sasha, Captain Akryd andotherofficers,eitherfromtheline companies or appointedfrom amongst village chiefs,gathered on the field beyondthe main gate of Ymoth'swall. Men were leadinghorsesback from the river ingreat groups as others ran toretrieve them. The air was

filledwithyellsofinstructionand question, gallopinghooves and the urgentwhinnying of horses whoknew that something morewas afoot. The fields nearbyremained littered with dead,mostly Banneryd, as mencontinued even now toreclaim the bodies ofcomrades,andchecktoseeifany still lived. Already thegreyskyhadgrowndimwiththe approachof evening, and

Sasha thanked thespirits thatit was late summer still andthedaysremainedlong.“The road comes like

thus,” Jurellyn was saying,drawingalinewithhisswordonapatchofbareturfamidstthe grass, “upon the otherside of the river. It's not far,as you can see.He'll be herebynightfall.Mybestguessisthathehassixthousandinthevalley—half cavalry, halfinfantry. This column seems

also half-and-half, cavalry tothefrontandrear, infantryinthe middle. But beingstretched so long upon theroad, we could not see thecolumn's end, sowehavenomeans of guessing theirnumber.”“Well,” said Captain

Akryd, with a thoughtfulglanceacrosstheYmothwalland the fields about, “thesedefences will serve us betterthan they did the Banneryd.

Usyn won't have dussiehriding with him, he'll beunable to exploit the gaps inthe line. We've receivedanother several hundredmenriding over the ShudynDivide just since the attackcommenced. Usyn won'tattack at night and we canstill sneak riders from theShudyn through the backwoods and into the town.Half the Goeren-yai withhorsesacrosscentralLenayin

are coming to our aid. Mostupon the Shudyn will ridethrough the night, knowingthe battle has commencedahead. By dawn, we couldnumbernearly five thousand,despiteourlosses.Defender'sadvantage shall be with us.Usynmayhavesixthousand,and cavalry of a greaterquality, but ours are entirelycavalry, and we have thedefence.Heshallnotoverrunus.”

Conversation flowed, terseand urgent. Men discussedpossible deployments, weakspots and guard posts fromwhich to observe Usyn'sforces through the night.Sasha stared at Jurellyn'slinesinthebareturf,thinkingfuriously. Then stared up,gazingnorthup theYumynisRiver toward the valleymouth looming beneath thedarkeningsky.Defender's advantage.

Cavalryshock.Suchweretheestablished norms of Lenaywarfare. Kessligh employedall such terms…and then, inthe next breath, disparagedthem. It had frustrated her,listening to his lessons. Hewas always so contradictory.Nothing he'd told her wasever guaranteed, and writtenin stone. But now…dussiehracing through the narrowfolds in the defensive line.Charging through the spaces

between sharpened stakes.The Banneryd line, once soimpenetrable, had beenoutflanked. The cavalry, atone moment chargingdownhill with advantagebehind them, the next,blindsided, outnumbered,brokenandoverwhelmed.An advantage was not

always an advantage. Aweakness was not alwaysweak.WhathadKesslightoldher? She recalled a training

session beneath the vertyntree. She couldn't have beenanymore than twelve, as thestanch had felt huge in herhands. Kessligh had spentmuch of the lessondemonstrating to her thevariations on the low right-quarter defence. Thecombinationswereseeminglyendless, depending on thenatureof theattackandwhatone wished to do next, one,two, three or even more

moves into the future. Butthereweregroundrules,basicprinciples that allcombinations had incommon. He had drilled heron them, endlessly and,slowly, she'd found herselection and executionimproving.Then he'd asked her to

attack him so he coulddemonstrate how one couldimprovise when one hadmastered the fundamentals.

After several exchanges,she'dthoughtofanattackthatwas particularly cunning andinvolved a feint she'd seenKessligh himself use againstmen at the Baerlyn traininghall. Kessligh had respondedwith a defence-to-offencecombination that had beenlike nothing he'd previouslybeen demonstrating and hadknocked her firmly on herbackside. She had protested—not so much at the rough

treatment,foratthatageshe'dstillbeensoutterlyinaweofKessligh's swordwork thateven a beating could be adelight—but that he'd justspent all that time with herteachingherexactlywhysheshouldn'tbedoingitlikethat.He'd given her one of his

rare, wry yet genuinelyamused smiles. “I neverthought I'd see the daywhenyou, of all people, wouldcomplainofsomeoneelsenot

playing by the rules,” he'dtold her, yanking hereffortlessly to her feet.“That'swhyIteachyoutheserules. It's not so you canfollow them religiously. It'sso that one day, you'll learnwhen, and how, they can bebroken.”“Thislandhere,”sheasked

Jurellyn, pointing to an areaof road not far north ofYmoth toward the valley.“Whatisthislike?”

“Some fields of ripe grainand some fallow.” Jurellynwas looking at her intently,his eyes narrowed. JurellynhadknownKesslighfromtheGreat War. Perhaps heguessed at her thoughts.Some of the othermenwerebreakingoff theirdiscussionstolisten.“Couldwe ride on them?”

Sasha asked. “A large force,inacharge?”Jurellyn nodded. “Not

easily, the fallowground isalittle rough and the grainfieldsarenearwhatshouldbeharvest. There are fencesnearly hidden. But yes, it'spossible.”“M'Lady, no,” Akryd said

firmly, andwith somealarm.“We've good defences hereand it'll shortly be dark.That's maybe three thousandHadryn heavy cavalry outthere—they like the openground, each of them is

possibly twice the quality ofour average cavalryman,they'd just love to meet usawayfromthesewallswherethey can do what they dobest. Absolutely no, weshouldstayput.”“We have no archers,”

Sashareplied,fixinghimwitha hard stare. She was notcertain where this suddenburstofconvictionhadcomefrom. But it was there,nonetheless. “A defence

withoutarchersislikeafeastwithout ale—utterlypointless. The Hadryn willreach our defences in perfectorderandshalldotouswhatthey will. We shall lose allinitiative and will becometheir playthings, free to toywith as they please until mydear brother arrives,whereupon we can all getdown on our knees and beghim to save us from thissiege.”

“M'Lady…” Akryd beganinexasperation,butSashacuthimoff.“Furthermore, their

infantry is strong and welldrilled, and they can mountan infantry assault throughthe wooded foothills,althoughslowly, aswecouldnot do with cavalry. Wewould be forced to divertlarge numbers of soldiersaway from our forwarddefences, leaving them

pitifullythin,andwejustsawwhat happens here when theflanksarestretchedsobadly.”There were some thoughtfulnods from somemen at that.She could see them thinking,picturing. Others lookedunconvinced. “An attack inthe open is not what Usynexpects…”“With good reason!”

Akryd retorted,with no littlesarcasm.“…but he is all strung out

upon the road and he has noformation.” Sasha finished,determinedly. Some of thethoughtful looks had becomeintent. She had those withher,atleast.“We'llspringthetrap, and he won't have timetoformuphisflanks!What'smore, he's an arrogant littlesnot, he believes in the talesof the Hadryn cavalry'sinvincibility just as much assome others do…” with apointed stare at Akryd, who

was now beginning to lookangry,“andI'mconvincedtheUdalynhavenotyetfallenorhe would have been herealready. Some of his forceswillhaveremainedbehind tokeep the Udalyn trappedbehind their wall so that hecan return to finish themlater. I'm betting he won'tevenbeatfullstrength.Afterall, we're just a pagan, orpagan-loving, rabbleof limp-wristed southerners led by a

girl. What threat could wepossiblybe?”Thatgotagrimlaughfrom

some.“He'dnothaveneededto leave many behind,” saidone of those, “he's onlyguarding one gate in theUdalynwall.”Sasha shrugged. “Aye.

Maybe a few hundred horseandsomearchers, thatwouldblock one gate, given theUdalynonlyhavedussiehandaren't much renowned for

cavalry anyway. The Udalynmightoverwhelmthemwithafull-scalebreakout,butI'llbetthey've guessed what'shappened, now they've seenUsyn turn tail and leave, andwill wait for the result.They'll hope that Usyn willlosemeninthisfight,leavinghim unable to breach thewall. Better yet, if we winand drive him back into thevalley,he's stuckwithawallathisbackandahugemobof

angryUdalynbehindit.”Some of the men were

nodding now, openly. “It'swhat Kessligh would havedone,” Jurellyn opined.“Don't give them a break,keepitmovingallthetime.”“He could retreat east if

beaten,” another saiddoubtfully. “Rather than intothevalley.”“That land's impossible,”

Jurellyn answered. “Theseridges run down from the

NyfaalRangeherethatformsthe valley's eastern ridge…”he demonstrated with hissword,more lines in thedirt,“all the way out to here. Toescape the valley with anykind of a force, one mustfollow the river. The key tothe river is Ymoth, and weholdit.”“M'Lady,”Akrydtriedone

last time, “we've no time toplan an ambush. Usyn isnearlyuponus,and…”

Sashajabbedataspotuponthe line that marked theriverbank. “Here,” she said.“Jurellyn, this bank iswooded,yes?”“Aye, M'Lady. Mostly

broadleaf, nearest the river.Plenty of undergrowth, notgood for riding warhorses,certainlynot innumbers.Butdussieh could ride there. Ihave. You could put…oh,hundreds there. Maybe athousand.Wouldn't see them

fromtheroad.”“We'll do that,” she said

with certainty. “Everydussieh in the ranks. They'llcut the line in half, we'llsmash them head-on.Agreed?” Looking about thegroup. Some voiced theirassent, loudly. Othersmurmured it, reluctantly.Several remained silent.Akryd was one. “Agreed?”Sasha repeated, looking athimfirmly.

“Aye,”Akryd sighed,withtheairofamandoomedtoanunpleasant fate. “Aye,M'Lady.Wewillatthat.”

SASHA SAT ASTRIDE HER

HORSE in the middle of theroad that wound along theright bank of the YumynisRiver.Theskywasdullwithearlytwilight,yetsomewherebeyond the westernmountains, there seemed tobe a break in the clouds.

Beyond Ymoth, peaksglowed yellow on their farsides, as if silhouetted withlight. Low-angled rays felluponthemouthoftheUdalynValley ahead, and thosecraggy slopes seemed toglow.To either side of the road

lay vast fields of grain withpale green stalks and goldenheads. They rippled in thelight wind, moving swathesofcolourintheglowfromthe

further mountains. To herleft, the Yumynis flowedwide and gentle, ruggedforests encroaching upon itsrocky left bank where thefoothills came directly downto the river. Poplar andwillow continued to line thebanksandSashawondered ifthey had been planted longago by human hand andmaintainedallthistime.Ahead, majestic upon the

riverbank, was an exquisite

pagoda of beautiful arches,apparently well maintained.Tallerynsymbolsclimbedthesupporting posts, a foreign,strange script whose shapesseemed to repeat through theform of the structure itself.This was a cultureenlightened, yet almost lost.This, surely, was worthfightingfor.Behind her, across the

fields of grain, stretched theforward rank of an army.

Warhorses waited now morecalmly than before, greatlytiredfromtheday'sexertions.Manynibbled at the grain asthey waited. Soon, much ofthese unharvested fieldswould be destroyed. Anecessary sacrifice, shehoped. To the rear, a newreserve was gathered, andonce again Sofy was withthem. Sasha had consideredleaving her at Ymoth…butagain, Ymoth was badly

exposedtoraidsfromHadrynvillagers to the east, itsgarrisonheldbyfewerthanahundred men. Thankfully,Usyn's forces had broughtwiththemplentyofchainandmanacles, enough to bindmost of the Banneryd whohad surrendered. Two newmen protected Sofy in thereserve.WhereJarydwas,nooneknew.Peg shifted tiredly beneath

herand tossedhishead,with

somewhat less than his usualvigour. Those men taskedwithcaringforthehorseshadmanaged to get him a drink,some feed, and a very basicwash to remove the driedfroth and sweat, but nothingmore. She leaned forwardnowandrubbedhisneck.“I'm sorry,” she told him,

to the backward, attentivetwist of one ear. “I knowyou'retired.Justalittlemore.One more charge, Peglyrion,

son of Hyathon the Warrior.Thenyoucanrest.”There was a gentle rise in

the fields ahead. Beyond it,shecouldhearthedistantrollof many hooves, drawingslowly near. Usyn wasmarching fast, wishing tomake camp before the wallsof Ymoth prior to nightfall.Surely he'd had scoutsenoughtotellhimthatYmothhad fallen. Jurellyn's latestreport had said that his line

was much wider than theroad, and trampled much ofthe grain on either side…butstill, not a combat-readyformation.Jurellyn'smenhadkilled several Hadryn scoutsjust recently and it wasunlikely Usyn knew of herlatest move. In scouts, atleast, Sasha knew that hercolumn possessed a clearadvantage, both in numberand talent. Usyn sacrificedcautionforhasteandgambled

thattheywouldn'tdareattackthe Hadryn heavy horse onopen ground. This had towork.Surelyitwould.She felt strangely calm,

unlike before the previouscharge. Fatalistic, perhaps.Maybe that should haveworried her—in all the greattales of doomed heroes inbattle, all had accepted theirfatebefore theendandfaceditwithoutfear.Sashagazedatthe mountains that flanked

the valley mouth ahead, allalight in a golden glow, andfelt that surely there wassomething here at work thatwasnotofanymerelyhumanplane.“Are you there?” she

thought toward the valley.“The valley of theUdalyn issaid to be thehomeofmanygreat Lenay spirits.Where ismy Synnich spirit hiding?TheycallmetheSynnich,butI cannot hear you. Speak to

me.”Riders moved up on her

sides—her four survivingvanguardridersfromthefirstcharge, plus two new ones.Or no, she realised, lookingaround—four new ones.There ridingupbehind,wereErrollyn, Terel, Tassi andAisha.Errollynstoppedatherside. He too gazed at thegolden valley beyond. Hishandsomefacewasserene.“You don't need to come,

youknow,”Sashatoldhim.Errollynsmiled,andgavea

faintshrug.“Wechoseto,”hesaid simply. “We,” Errollynhad said, with completecertainty. Sasha recalled thebattlejustpast.Theeffortlesscoordination, the serringuiding their horses inunison. Tassi distracting oneBanneryd's attention, whileAisha killed him from theother side. “And we wereappointedbytheothers.They

saw we protected you in thelast battle, and wished us todo the same in this one.Weacceptedthehonour.”“Can you tell each other's

thoughts?” Sasha asked,feeling suddenly curious. Itseemed a good time to ask.Suddenly,shewishedshehadasked a great many morequestions than she had. Ofmany people, and manythings.Errollyn spared her a

curious, green-eyed glance.“A question of debate,amongst the serrinim,” heconceded. “The vel'ennar isnot what you suggest. Andyet, insomeways,perhaps itis.” The vel'ennar. AnotherSaalsi term for which therewasnodirect translation intoanyhumantongueSashawasawareof.The“single spirit,”perhaps.Ormaybethe“greatsoul.” Something singular,and yet divided. And so like

the serrin, to take seeminglycontradictory concepts andtwine them together tomakeawhole.Sasha snorted in

amusement. “I bet I couldn'tget a straight answer from aserrinonhisdeathbed.”Errollyn's smile spread

wide.Stunningly.“Theworldisnotsimple,”hesaidcoyly.“To value the chaos is tovaluelife.”“Difficult people,” Sasha

teased.Errollyn shrugged. “We

cannot help but be what weare, any more than humanscan.”“I am glad of it,” Sasha

saidsoftly.“Theworldwouldbea farpoorerplacewithoutthe serrinim. It has occurredto me very slowly, over thelastfewdays,justwhatsomeof these people see in me.The Goeren-yai and theVerenthanes. Tyrun insisted

that Iwas theonlyperson toleadthiscolumn.Teriyantoo,and others. At first I wasangry. I thought surely theycould find someoneelse.ButI've thought about it, and Iconcede I can't think ofanyone.”Errollyn's gaze was

intensely curious. His stareheldaforcethatonlyaserrincould wield. “Why do youthink?”heasked.“Tobealeaderofboththe

faiths isdifficult, I suppose,”saidSasha.“Inthisland,withourhistory.Weareadividedland, if not by faith then bylanguageandregion.IthinkIunderstand better now whyKessligh had such faith inLenay royalty, and in myfather despite his flaws.Royalty is of no particularprovince, but of all Lenayin,and is, as such, a unitingforce,notadividingone.Butthen, royalty cannot unite

everyone, especially when itis so strongly Verenthane,anddoesnottreattheGoeren-yaifairly.”“But you are neither

Verenthane nor Goeren-yai,”Errollyn completed for her.He turned his gaze to thegolden,sunlitmountains,asifdrinking in their splendour.“Such was always theintentionoftheNasi-Keth.Tofindathirdway.Thatisyou,Sashandra. I am certain

Kessligh was aware of this.Perhaps it worried him. Healways considered Petrodorand theBacosh as the centreofalltheworld'stroubles,thequestionstowhichhewishedto contribute. He went toLenayin, in part, to find anuma untainted by Petrodorthinkingandprejudices.“But it seemshecouldnot

so easily separate the umafrom her own world, andbringherintohis.Andthatis

the dilemma of us all, in theend. The dilemma ofoverlapping worlds. Each ofour worlds is unique. Onlywheretheycomeintocontactwith the worlds of others dothey join, and find points ofcommonality.”Sasha frowned at him.

“You know much aboutKessligh,”sheobserved.Errollynshrugged.“Heisa

son of the Petrodor docks.His once-neighbours still

boast of the little boy whoused to play in this yard, orpractise swordwork in thatalley. People talk of himoften, and the latest news ofhis doings in the barbariankingdom. Theywonder as tohisuma.Sheisreputedtobebothwildandbeautiful.”Sasha managed a faint

smile. “Well,” she said,withmock elegant decorum. “Isuppose one out of two willdo.”

“No,”Errollynreplied,alsosmiling, “you are beautifultoo.” Sasha scowled at him.Then smiled more broadly.Howeasyitwastotalktothisserrin.Mostserrinwerenice,butmanyremainedsomewhataloof, for all their charms.There was nothing aloofabout Errollyn. For a serrin,he was blunt, directand…“Didyoudreamof thisvalley?”heasked,beforeshecouldcompletethethought.

Sasha blinked. “Dream?How can I dream of a placeI'venevervisited?”“A wide and open valley,

withariveralongthebottom.And a full moon in the sky,lighting all to silver.” Sashastared at him. He was…hewas describing her dream…the dream she'd nearlyforgotten, that she'ddismissed each time she'dawoken with it fresh in hermemory…Errollyn's bright

green eyes burned into herlike nothing human. “Youasked of the vel'ennar,” hesaid softly, as the rollingapproach of hooves beyondtheriseaheadgrewlouder.“Iam du'janah, a specialuniquenessamongserrin.Thevel'ennarandIhaveauniquerelationship. We serrinadmireyourGoeren-yaiforareason.Inthisland,weknowwhere to come, and when.Thespiritsspeak.Listennow.

Your Synnich calls to you.Youarealmosthome.”From hidden amongst the

wheat further ahead, a signalcame. Behind, the shouts ofofficers echoed across theformation. Swords came out.Sasha stared at Errollyn,small hairs prickling at thebackofherneck.Errollyn rested his bow

upon his saddlehorn, and theswords of her vanguard andtheotherserrinalsocameout.

“YouareGoeren-yai,butyoudonottrulybelieve,”hesaid.“Believenow.Itistime.”Frombehind, therecamea

cheer, rippling slowly acrossthe front rank. Sasha turnedto look and saw Jaryd ridingto their fore, both arms freeandaswordinhisrighthand.He seemed tobe steeringhisbig chestnut mare with hisheels and gentle tugs on therein alone…but therewas nowayhecouldpossiblyhandle

the reins while wielding thesword.He'dcomeoutheretodie, Sasha realised. And sherecalled what she'd said tohim, standing by Tyrun'sbody,andregrettedit.But there was no time for

regrets, she realised. By theend of this day, there wouldbemorethanenoughregrettogoaround.Sasha drew her sword.

From behind, she could hearthe blades coming out, a

great,raspingring.Therewasno need for a speech now.Thebattlehadbeenunderwaysince Ymoth. Now, theyfinishedit.Amanstoodfromthe grain to the left and heldanarmaloft.Sasharaisedherblade and then dropped it.Pegsnortedasshetappedherheels, and broke into a trot,thenacanter.Sheheldtotheroad,asbehind,thegreatlineof horses cut through thefields of grain, approaching

thefirstfence.They leaped it, and then

the ridge ahead was fadingand a huge, winding columnof horseback warriorsappeared, perhaps eightabreast on either side of theroad. Black Hadryn bannersflew against the goldenmountains fromwhich they'dcome. Horns sounded andyells from ahead, rearwardranks accelerating to spillacross the fields from the

road, moving up to broadenthelines.Sasha thumped Peg hard

with her heels and yankedhimintothegrain—adifficultride for a dussieh, perhaps,but the heads of the grainbarelycamepastPeg'sknees,andall of the columnbehindher were warhorses. Peghurtledacrosstheflatground,theserrinandhervanguardtoher sides, as behind, a greatwall of charging animals

decimated the golden fieldsbeneath their tearing hooves.Sasha held Peg's speedenough to allow the line tocatch up, timing theimpending collision with apractisedeye.Therecameanotherroaras

a mass of dussieh eruptedfrom the riverside forestahead and charged into theHadryn column. Many ofthoseHadryngallopingup tothe front now turned at this

new attack, the great masswheelinglikeaflockofbirdsagainst the sky. The ambushhad been sprung. Still theHadryn front line did notcharge,holdingbackasmoreriders poured onto theirflanks, widening the line…but now, the charging rebelline began to split, ridersfollowing Sasha's path toenvelop the Hadryn columnaboutthesides.At the last moment, the

Hadryn charged with a yell,the rebel line now closingdirectlyonSasha'sheels,andovertaking her to either sideinplaces…Anarrowwhistledpast Sasha's ear from behindand skewered a Hadryn'sshoulder directly ahead. Theimpactspunhimhalf-aboutinthe saddle, hauling his horsesideways, colliding with thenext horse in line, andmaking that one rear aside.Sasha raced straight for the

gap…andsawinthecornerofher vision something darkand lithe racing alongside. Itmaterialised into Tassi, wholeaned from her saddle withexpert horsemanship to duckthe other rider's blow whilsttearing him across the sidewithherblade.Horsesflashedbyoneither

side, blades clashed, andriders fell in bloody impacts.Lightweight and unarmouredliketheserrin,Sashahalffell

fromthesaddletogobeneathone onrushing blow, thencameupintimetoswingandcollect another across hisshield, then duckedinstinctively below a third asPeg shied away, probablysaving her life as her headnearly hit the passing rider'sknee.And then, theywere clear,

andracingalongthecolumn'sside—the Hadryn were toospaced out, trying to fan

across the flanks but leavinghugegapsthroughtheirmidstin the process. Rebel riderswere thundering in muchgreater numbers, tearingalong the roadside, divingbetween gaps in the ranks,slashingatHadrynriderswhodefended valiantly one, twoand then three blows withshieldandsword,onlytofalltothefourthandfifthastheyflashed by. Errollyn wassuddenlyalongside,wheeling

his horse back and forth forspace, then finding a gapwithin which to load, drawandfireatstartlingspeed,andsend another Hadryntumbling from the saddle.One came across his frontunavoidably—Errollyn tore ashort blade from a saddle-sheath, dodged and deflectedthatman's blow, then simplysheathed the blade andresumedhishuntfortargets.Sasha alerted Peg to the

next approaching fence withher customary little tug ofrein and tap of stirrups…andagain there seemed to be ablack shadow racing at herside. She leaped the fence,and the black shadowappeared to swing right,urgently. Sasha followed,cutting behind the flanks ofErrollyn'shorse…andsawthehidden tree stump amidst thegrain flash by to the left,directly where she would

have ridden into it. Shewavedherswordandpointedto alert those behind, whowouldinturnalertthenext.To the right, one of the

vanguard riders clashed adefending Hadryn across theshield, distracting himenoughforTereltohackhimblindsided from the saddle.And then theywere amongstthe dussieh-riders, racingcircles around the survivingHadryn in that part of the

line, where desperatelyoutnumbered northerners hadhad no chance to form up.Sasha raced back toward theroad and saw right-flankriders were doing the sameupon the other side. Theforward half of the Hadryncavalry were encircled. Backat the roadside, she wheeledabout and galloped back thewayshe'dcome.TheHadrynwerenowina

mess, and the bodies on the

road and in the fields weremostly uniformed in black.Men fought and struggleddesperately, some nowwounded, as passing rebelshacked them from all sides.Sasha cut a backhand lowacross one wounded man'sside, then crossed anotherman's front as if meaning toengage him—with hisattention drawn and defencesraised at her, the next riderbehind killed him from the

blindside. Riderless horsestore past in crazed panic andSasha realised that theresimply weren't enoughHadryn leftalong theroad tomake itworth continuing thecharge.She held up her blade and

reinedPegtoahalt.Wheeledhim about to survey hersurroundings—there weremany Hadryn riders racingback toward their maincolumn. Many were fanning

wide, small figures againstthe eastward forest, or thewestern forest that borderedthe river, far off across thefields. It was possible, sherealised, that quite a lot hadescaped that way, realisingthey'dbeenoverrun.She stood in her stirrups

and waved her sword forattention. “Form up!” sheyelled. “Form up!” Then avanguard riderwasalongsidewithhisroyalbanner,waving

it madly. Sasha brought Pegto a trot along the road, asofficers yelled, and weaponswerewaved,andmenbroughttheir horses wheeling acrossthe fields, abandoning theirpursuitof the fleeingHadrynto reform the line in herwake. Many now weredussieh-riders,andmorewereracing away from the mainHadryn column, having nowish to face that countercharge alone. If the middle

and rear portions of theHadryn column had merelycome racing to theircomrades’ aid, then theHadryn were finished. If,however, they had shownpatience as their comradeswere slaughtered, and hadtaken the time to form asecond line, then the battlewouldbefarfromover.Looking about, Sasha saw

Errollyn unstringing his bowand sliding it back beneath

his leg—the top half bore adeep cut, and clearly wouldnot take the weight of a fulldraw. He pulled his bladeinstead. Nearby also wereTassi and Terel. She couldnot see Aisha, but had notimetoworryaboutthatnow.Ahead, the remaining riderswere clearing—the dussieh-riderstowardSasha'sline,theHadryn back toward thenorth. There was indeed aHadryn line forming…yet it

wasdisorganisedandchaotic,stretching wide across thefieldsandfracturedinplaces.It was blocked by wheelingmobs of riders and appearedto be mostly comprised ofinfantry in the middle. Herewas a chance, but it wasquickly fading. They had toform up fast. Too long, andthe Hadryn defensive linewould become animpenetrable wall ofarmoured men and cavalry,

against which her exhausted,lighter cavalry would dashthemselveslikewavesuponacliff.She stood in her stirrups

andhalf-turned.“Throughthecentre!” she yelled. “Getthose infantry! Split themdown the middle and they'llrunlikesheep!”Officersrepeatedtheorder,

and yells echoed further outtoward the flanks. Sashawaited for three repeats, and

charged. Peg heaved himselftiredly into a gallop, greatlimbs now heavywhere theyhad once been sprightly.There was fear in his everysinew, his eyes rolling, hisearsfarback…andyetheranstraight toward that shield-fronted line thatbristledwithsharp things that cut, simplybecause she asked him to.Sasha loved him as much atthatmoment as she had everlovedanything.

A sudden burst of windtore across the fields,whipping the grain ahead oftheracingline.Ithowledintothe Hadryn, as horseswhinnied and reared, and thefront ranks of infantry hidtheir heads behind theirshields to keep the swirlingdebrisofhoof-torngrainfromtheir eyes. The Hadryncavalry tried to charge,uneven and ragged. Theinfantry stood firm, crouched

behind their shields.Suddenly the air was full ofwhistling arrowfire,men andhorses to the flanks and rearfalling. The shields racedcloser, awall like any fence,andPegsimplyleapt,straightovertheirheads.He came down in their

midst, men trying to scatter,hooves plowing into bodiesas soldiers were flungspinning like tops on allsides, others diving flat for

cover…Peglostbalanceashetried to gather, front legsflailing as he hit anotherseveralmen,Sasharidingthesaddledownwithadesperategrip. He hit and rolled withincredible force, Sasha feltherself flying, colliding withsomething hard, then rollinginstinctively with arms overher head as the forest ofhooves descended upon herwith an earth-shaking roar.Hoovesstrucknear,steelmet

steel, and then flesh, a bodyfalling, spattering her withblood.Sheriskedalookupasthe

rear of her formation cutthrough what infantryremainedstanding.Shecouldnot see Peg—a relief, sincehe was not lying dead orwounded, but a concern, asshe was now more or lessalone, andafoot,withenemyall around. She stumbled toher feet, gasping at the pain

of her left shoulder. Therewere bodies lying about,some still moving, limbsbrokenfromimpacts,ormailtorn by blades. Some wererunning, trying to reform insmall groups, others pickingthemselvesupofftheground,as the battle continued allaround.An infantryman came at

herfromtheside—shieldandspear. She saw the unusualcombination with disdain,

knockingthethrustasideandreversing for the wielder'shead. The shield intervened,but her serrin steel cuthalfway through the wood,meeting the helm with forceenough to knock him over.Her shoulder blazed withpain, but another two werecoming at her…a stragglingdussieh-rider cut one downfrombehind,reiningaboutashe realised who was introuble. Sasha feinted the

remaining man, danced backasheslashedather, tookhissword arm on the downstroke, and tore him openwiththereverse.There were horses racing

throughnow,hurdlingbodies,Hadryn and rebels in mutualpursuit.Terelcamegalloping,sending an infantrymanspinning with a flashingblade, a Falcon Guardsmanriding wide to guard hisapproach.Sashaswitched the

blade to her left hand,indicatingshewishedhimonthe right—but Terel pointedurgentlybehindher.Shespunand saw a pair of Hadryncavalrymen charging straightforher.She feinted left, then dove

right across the leader's path,rolling under his whistlingblade as he somehow madethat backhand reverse withamazingskill…andcametoacrouch directly in the second

rider's line. She swung,fallingbackwardasblademetblade in defence…the shocknearly tore the weapon fromher hands, no sooner fallingthan Terel met that man infullchargeandfairlycuthiminhalf.Sashastumbledtoherfeet, her shoulder screaming,the blade strangely light inherhand,whichsheputdownto the jarring numbness ofimpact…until she realisedthat her blade had shattered

midwayfromthehilt.She threw thehilt awayas

Terelcameback,grabbedhishand with her good arm andswung up behind him. Hegalloped immediately for therear, heading away from thefighting, swerving to avoidsome intervening clashes asSasha clutched to hismiddleandfoughttheurgetotryandsteer. Dear spirits, she hatedbeingapassenger.“Where's my horse?” she

yelled at Terel. “Where'sPeg?”Tereldidnotbother toreplytoaquestionhehadnohope of answering. Theguardsman racedprotectivelytoonesideandSashahuntedaroundforErrollyn,butcouldnotfindhim.Thatscaredher.No Errollyn, no Aisha. Sheheard a new round ofbloodthirsty yelling and thensome of the reserve wascharging back the other way—perhaps a hundred horse,

and desperate to get into theaction.Terelstoppedinthemiddle

of a field of grain, his horseheaving desperately for air.Theracketofbattlecontinuedbehind, but now, there werehorns blowing. The Hadrynretreat. They were pullingback.“Theyneedtostop,”Sasha

gasped, realising suddenlythatshewasshakingallover.“We…we need to tell them!

Someonetellthem,pullback!Wemustpreservestrength!”“I'll tell them,” the

guardsman said grimly andgalloped his poor, frothinghorse back toward the fray.Sasha felt Terel's musclestwitch,thereflextofollow.“Go help him,” she said.

“I'llgetoff.”“No,” saidTerel,puttinga

handonherleg.“Stay.Ican'tleaveyouherealone.”They must have been

winning, Sasha reckoned,because there were officersbackingoffandwatching thebattle with the confidence ofsoldiers seeing their enemiesflee. The guardsman arrivedbeside those officers andpointed back toward Sasha.Oneputahorntohislipsandblew the reform. Hornsduelled in thedarkening sky,andthecriesandyellsofmenalso began to change pitch,seeking now to instruct and

organise.Sasha turned in the saddle

and surveyed the scenebehind. The fields of grain,oncesoftandlevel,werenowtorn and flattened like thecoat of some animal ravagedby a terrible disease. Somebodies lay visible, and somehorses struggled terriblyagainst a fate they had notdeserved. Some men werewalking, or limping,searching for comrades, or

simply away from wherethey'd been. TwoGoeren-yaiguarded a Hadryn rider withwary blades, to the Hadryn'sapparent disinterest, as helistened in stunned silence tothetrumpets.The remnants of the

reservewereridingacrossthefields now, dismounting asthey found wounded. Sashatapped Terel on the shoulderand pointed. He reined hishorse about with no dissent,

androdethatway.Soon a dussieh-rider came

racing toward them, twoFalcon Guardsmen onwarhorses close behind—oneapparently Verenthane, theother clearly Goeren-yai.Sashablinkedas she realisedthat the owner of that fast-moving little horsewas noneother than Sofy, her brownhair flying out behind. Sheslowed and circled to Sashaand Terel's side with

remarkablejudgment.“Sasha!” Sofy stared up at

her in alarm. “Where's Peg?Areyouinjured?”“I fell,”Sashareplied.Her

voice was strained andhoarse.Shebarelyrecognisedit. “There are many missingwhomIhopetofindagain.”“Terel,”Sofysaidurgently,

“you'dbettercomethisway.”And she was off again,galloping ahead through thetwisted wreckage of grain,

men and horses. One ofSofy's guards gave Sasha anapologetic shrug beforegalloping off in her wake.Terel managed to get hismounttoacanter,butseemednot to have the heart formore. They followed Sofyacross the corpse-strewnfields where the lead of theHadryn column had been sototally enveloped andannihilated. They reached aspot near a fence, now far

more exposed with thesurrounding grain all beatendown.There,Sofystoppedbeside

a fallen horse. Alongsideknelt Aisha, holding a bodyin her lap. Terel dismountedquickly and ran to her side.Sasha followed, and herkneesgavewayasshehittheground. She rolled and cameup covered in wheat chaff,too exhausted to care. Shestaggered toAisha's side and

found that the body wasTassi, bloody and limp, herstrange, bronze eyes gazingsightlessly at the overcastsky. Tears rolled downAisha's cheeks fromher paleblue eyes, and blood trickledfrom a cut on her temple.Serrin blood was red, Sashasaw, just like a human's.Some Verenthanes rumouredotherwise.Sashawouldmuchratherhaveremainedignorantofthattruth.

Aishagazedupather.Shelooked too young, and toopretty, forsuchascene.Likea little girl. Sasha's breathcaught in her throat. “Hermother had travelled toLenayin many times,” theserringirlsaidsoftly,cradlingherfriend'sbody.“Shefoughtin the Great War, withKessligh.”“Kessligh told me that

many serrin did,” Sasha saidquietly.

“Not as many as shouldhave,” said Aisha, gazingdown at Tassi's lifeless face.“Eventhen,theserrinimwerewithdrawing inwards. Tassithought it a terrible thing.She'd been toLenayin twice.She loved thisplace.Shedidnot understand why someamongst us thought theGoeren-yai less important.She feared the serrinimwerebecoming selfish. Tassi wasneverselfish.”

“I can see,” Sasha agreed,tearsblurringhereyes.“The serrinim are

changing,”Terelsaidquietly,kneeling at Aisha's side, andplacing a hand on hershoulder. “Those of us whostill care pick the hardestfights, and our numbersdecrease.Now,we are fewerstill.”AtSasha'sside,Sofy'sgaze

was pale and sober. Sashareached and grasped her

sister'shand.

Jarydawoke.Hehurt.Hehurtverybadly.Thatwasgood.Itmeant he was still alive.Snapped stalks of wheatpressed against his cheek. Itseemedstrangethatheshouldfeel thatdiscomfortabovealltheotherpain.Hecouldsmellhorses. And leather. Andsweat.Andblood.That latter

smell stuck in the memorywith the force of an axethrownintoatree.Quivering,it triggered other memories.Tarryn.Father.Galyndry. Galyndry? He

hadn'tthoughtmuchabouthissisters. Galyndry was to bemarried anyhow. She'd befine. Family Nyvar meantnaught to her once shemarried. Delya was alreadymarried. No big thing.Wyndal, though…Wyndal

was fifteen. He was still inTyree,noteveryonecouldgoto Rathynal. Wyndal hadalways been quiet, hewouldn'tmakeafusswhenhefound out. Who would owntheir land now? And whowouldadoptWyndal?MaybeFamily Shaty would adopthim,atleastthenhecouldbewithDelya.His mind was wandering.

That wasn't good. Everyonealways said his mind

wandered too much. Focus,Jaryd. You'll never make agreat lord of Tyree if youdon't learn to concentrate.Fool. Gods, he was a fool.He'd never thought a familysofragile.Ithadalwaysbeensuch a grand thing, full ofunclesandaunts,cousins…Intruth, ithadneverbeenmorethan him, father, and hissiblings. Everyone else hadanother allegiance. Family?What did family matter to

those people? As much ashonour,perhaps.Orloyalty.He tried to move his left

arm. The pain of it nearlymade him pass out. Hemoved his right instead androlled heavily onto his back.His ribs hurt. Surely he'dbroken some. He knew thefeelingwellenough.Hecouldhear horses, distant shoutsand trumpets. He triedopeninghiseyes.Thatwasananticlimax.Therewasnorush

of blinding light, for the skyabovewasdarkening.Soonitwould be black. Best that hediscoveredwherehewas,andwhohadwon,beforealllightdisappearedentirely.Heleveredhimselfupright.

That hurt like hell. He wasreminded of countless timeshe'd fallen from his horseplayinglagandandawokentofindpeople lookingdownonhim.Onlynow,heseemedtobealone.

Gasping, he got his goodarmdownforbalanceandsatup. Still he could seenothing…except that therewasadeadhorselyingbesidehim, partly obscured by thegrain. Enough grain stillstoodtoblockallotherview.The horse, at least, was nothis.Thatwassomething.He recalled charging into

theHadrynlines.He'dhadnohope of steering, nor ofwielding a shield. Nor of

usinghis lefthandasapivoton the saddlehorn forleverage to duck, dodge andlean. His only defence hadbeen attack. He'd struck onesword thatwouldhavekilledhim had he not…and then…he winced, trying to recall.His head hurt, along witheverythingelse.Hishelmhadfallenoff.Hecouldnotseeitin the grain about him. Ahorsegallopednearbyandhehad no idea if it belonged to

friendorfoe.Apain stabbedathis right

side, worse than the others.Jaryd put his hand there andfound a tear in the heavymail. His fingers came awaybloody. He recalledbanners…yes, he'd seenbannersahead,near theroad.He'd charged at them. Therehad been some very goodHadryn warriors there, blackand silver with big shields.Guarding someone. They'd

seen him coming, and…buttryashemight,hecouldnotrecallanymorethanthat.He staggered slowly,

agonisingly, to his feet. Themail seemed impossiblyheavy and his right shoulderguardwasslashedintwo.Hecould feel the bruise on hisshoulder beneath. How thehells was he still alive? Faroff toward the valley was ahuge mass of riders, a darkand silver line against the

fading gold of the fields.Behind them were scatteredmany stragglers, pickingamongst the fields. If Sashahad lost, Jaryd realised, thearmies would be southinstead, towardYmoth.Theymusthavewon.Dark shapes littered the

tornandmangledfields.Deadmen, and the occasionalhorse. He staggered aroundthedeadhorse,butcouldnotfind its rider. Another dead

man lay near, a FalconGuardsman. Jaryd bent,painfully, and took up theman's sword. The face wasnotoneherecognised.Some instinct convinced

him towalk east, away fromthe river, toward the brokenfoldsofforestedlandthatrandown from the mountains.The stiffening wound on hisleft leg throbbed painfully…Jaryd guessed he'd probablytornthemuscleoncemore.

In the gloom ahead, fadedofcolour,hesawtheshapeofabanner,leaningonthebodyof a dead horse. He limpedover and found a tangledmess of bodies, Hadryn andnot. One of the Hadryn wasgasping, trying to live,propped against the deadhorse's side. Most of hisentrails were in his lap. Asergeant in Yethulyn Bearscolourslaywithhisheadsplitopen.Jarydlimpedpastthem,

searching thebodieswithhiseyes. The desperate story oftheir fight revealed itself intheirfinal,fallenforms.Herea desperate, heroic defence.There a defiant charge. Menhad fallen from their horsesand fought on the ground.One of the deadHadryn haddeep bite marks through hishand and glove, the familiarcurve of human teeth.Desperatefightingindeed.Another dead horse, a

dappledgrey.Thisone,Jarydsaw as he limped around thedead animal's head, had arider trapped beneath it,caught by the right leg. Thehorse'sheadwashalfseveredby a single blow. The horsemust have fallen hard andtaken its rider down with it,even harder. The rider hadthatlook,splayedonhisrightside, an arm outstretched,twisted and half conscious.Like a man who had fallen

fromagreatheightontohardground. His clothes werelordly, over his mail, withdecorated stitching on hisleather gloves and silverembroideryonhisbelt.Banners.He'd charged this

way,seekingbanners.Lordlybanners. Jaryd took anothertwosteps.Thehalf-consciousman seemed to register theboots before him and lookedup, his helm askew. “Helpme!” demanded a thin,

anguished voice. “Help me,I'mhurt!”A northern accent. A

familiar, petulant tone. Nowhe remembered. “There'smany hurt, Lord Usyn,” saidJaryd, hoarsely. “Helpyourself.”Usyn stared up at him.

Perhaps the darkeningovercast remained brightenough for silhouette,because the Great Lord ofHadryn's eyes seemed to

widen with recognition.“Jaryd Nyvar!” He soundedalmost relieved. “MasterJaryd, you must…you musthelpmeup.Myfatherwasongood terms with your own.You are heir to the greatlordshipofTyree.Greatlordsshould always conductthemselveswithhonour,eveninbattle.”“And with what honour

have you conducted thisbattle, Lord Usyn?” Jaryd

asked. In the distance,trumpetsblaredagain.“Isawthe bodies in Ymoth. Youattempt the slaughter of anentireLenaypeople, andyouspeaktomeofhonour?”Thefury was with him again.Theywereallthesame,thesenobles. His so-called peersand comrades. Everythinghe'deveraspiredtobe,itwasallalie.“You would stand there

and snarl at me, while I lie

wounded?” Usyn lookedabout,desperately,andfoundhis sword on the groundnearby. He snatched it, andtried wriggling free from thehorse's weight…and nearlyscreamed. “Have you…” hegasped, desperately. “Haveyounohonour?”“Myfatherandbrotherare

dead,” Jaryd said tonelessly.“Family Nyvar is no more.We were betrayed. If that isthe honour of Verenthane

nobility, thenno,LordUsyn,I have no honour. I rejectyour honour. I am a manalready dead, and I have nofearofanythinganylonger.”“You would kill me?”

Usyn asked. There was fearin his voice, a high, thinquaver. “Like this?Defenceless? I am not yourenemy! Why…why do youride with these…thesepeople! You have the bloodof the chosen in your veins!

ThenobilityofLenayin!Themastersoftheland!”“The nobility of Lenayin

slew a ten-year-old boy fordaring tobefrightened.Yourhonourishorseshit.Orworse.Atleasthorseshithasuses.”“I didn't do it!” Usyn

screamed. “I didn't kill yourdamn brother! You can't…youcan'taccusemeof…”“Ofvanity?Ofpowerlust?

Ofmurder?Ofmassacresandhatred? Iknowonly toowell

what you are, and whatyou've done, Usyn. I knowbecause I was once of yourkind.I'vebeensostupid,andso blind, that I didn't realisewhatthey'ddountilitwastoolate.Forthat,Ideservedeath.And if Ido, I'mquitecertainyou deserve worse. Lookaboutyou.”Some men were groaning,

amidst the tangles of wheat.A little further, someonewassobbing. Torchlights now

moved across the fields,riderssearchingforwounded.Usyn was crying, Jaryd

saw with surprise. He'dthoughthimmanythings,butnot a coward. Yet it did notsurprisehimtoogreatly.Theywereallhypocritesandfakes,allthenobility.“Ijust…”Usynsobbed,his

face contorted, “…wanted tobeworthyofmy father! I…Iwanted to be a great lord ofHadryn! I wanted him to be

proudofme,and…andIwanttoseemysisteragain,and…”He lashed his blade in

sudden fury at Jaryd's leg.Jaryd leaped back, with thebarest moment to spare, andhurled his sword point firstfor Usyn's throat. It struck,and Usyn died with a horridgurgling,drowningfastinhisownspurtingblood.Jaryd turned away, unable

to face the sight. He put hisgood hand to his head and

stared across the battlefield,to where the tips of thenorthernmountainscontinuedto glow, long after the lighthadfledthelandbelow.In a clump of wheat

nearby, he heard a mancoughing. He walked andfound it was a Goeren-yaivillager,withabloodiedfaceand a sword thrust throughhis side. Not deep, though.He might yet live. Jarydsheathed his borrowed sword

andmanagedtohaulthemanupright with one arm, longenoughtodumphimoveroneshoulder. Then he stood,muscles, ribs and legshrieking protest, and beganlimpingtowardtheriver.

Duskwasfallingasthearmyreformed behind a defensiveline. No counterattack came,and masses of riders began

falling back to rest theirhorses andwater themat theriver. Others searched forfallen comrades. Sofy helpedwith thewounded,andSashajoinedher,beinghorselessforthemoment.The wounds were terrible.

Soldiersboundbloodygasheswith rolls of coarse cloth,stripping spare shirts forfurther bandages. Men boreterrible, disfiguring injurywith a courage that defied

words, biting back screams.Goeren-yai recited spiritchants,andVerenthanesholyverses. Others acted ashealers, administering herbsand pastes for wounds aswere available. Othersbrought full waterskins fromthe river.Men died upon theruined fields of grain.Otherslived,andsuffered.When Errollyn arrived

Sasha felt horribly guilty atthe relief she felt to be

summoned away from thatpatch of bloody, hellishground. She climbed upbehind him, leaving Sofy toattend the wounded amidstthe lines of flaming torchesmen were planting in theground to ward theapproaching night. Her littlesister moved from man toman, holding each hand inturn, assuring those indelirium that it was indeedthe Princess Sofy who

attended them, and that theywouldnotdiealone.Errollynthen touched heels to hishorse, asking nothing morethan a walk of the wearyanimal, heading for themassesofhorsesbytheriver.Sasha rested her cheek

wearily against his back. “IthoughtperhapsI'dlostyou,”shemurmured.“And I you,” Errollyn

replied. Torchlight lit thefields, sentries standing with

lightaflame,guidingtheway.“I didn't see you fall, therewas too much happening.”Sasha felt him heave a deepbreath.“Ihopetoneverhaveto do anything like thatagain.”ALenaymanwouldnever

admit to fear. It did notsurprise her that Errollynwould. He was so…straightforward. For a serrin,anyhow.“Take this sword,” he said

then. “We cannot have acommander without asword.”Hepulledaserrinblade in

its scabbard from a bindingalongside his saddle andhandedittoher.Sashapulledthebladeashortwayfromitssheath and examined theedge. It was every bit thedeadly, unblemished edgethat her old blade had been.Evenwithoutfullydrawingit,shecouldsee that itsbalance

wouldbeperfect.“Whose is it?” Sasha

asked.“It'sTassi's,”saidErrollyn.“But…ohno,Icouldn'tjust

takeher…”“Aisha insists she would

wish you to have it,” saidErrollyn.“Me? Why? These things

are expensive, Errollyn. Itshould be passed on to herfamily, and then on to theirchildren…”

“Not so expensive inSaalshen,”Errollyncorrected.“Onlyhere.Thatsteelworkisnotatechniquewesharewithhumans. In Saalshen, it's norarerthananyotherblade.”“Butevenso…”“You don't understand,”

Errollyntoldher.“Tassirodeall this way because she hadsomehopethattherewereoldand ancient ways amongsthumans that were worthsaving. She had hope that

humanity itself was worthsaving,andthatinthesaving,there would be good forserrin asmuch as humans. Ifthe uma of KesslighCronenverdt, the greatestNasi-Keth of Lenayin, doesnot represent that hope, thenno one does. Tassi gave herlife for that hope. Allow herblade to continue to serve,evenasshecannot.”Sashagazedatitforalong

moment. “If you wish to

return it to her family oneday,” Errollyn added, “youmay do so in person. But Isuspect they shall tell youexactlywhatIhave.”Sasha undid her own

empty scabbard and replacedit with Tassi's. Her shoulderhurt—more wrenched thandamaged, she thought. She'dbeen lucky. Unbelievablylucky, when she recalled herblade breaking. If that hadhappened a moment earlier,

she'd be most likely dead.Serrinsteelwasnotsupposedto break. But her blade hadbeen old, she knew.Everythingbrokesometime.ShefoundPegamongstthe

horses by the riverside,drinking knee-deep in theflowing waters of theYumynis.Hewhinniedasshedismounted, and came to theriverbank to greet her. Sashastroked his nose and huggedhis neck. Errollyn had found

him wandering, sniffingfallen riders, searching forher. But he had recognisedErrollynandErrollyn'shorse,andallowedhimselftobeledto the riverbank. Sasha tookoffherboots andwaded intothecoldwater togivehimasmuch of a rubdown as shecould, without daring toremove his saddle lest someemergencyhappen.Twoofhervanguardriders

were also present, haggard

butdesperatelyapologeticforhaving lost her in theconfusion.Sashawaved theirapologies away, commendedthem on their valour andasked after the missing two.Onewasdead,sheheard,andthe other wounded, butexpected to live. She couldnot internalise so muchsuffering so quickly. Shefoundhermindwandering tothoughts of Kessligh, hisreactions when faced with

memories of the Great War,and his occasional,unbridgeable distance. Allthis time, she'd been livingwith a stranger. Only nowwasshecomingtounderstandhim.She was leading Peg

ashore amidst the mass ofriverside activity in thetorchlight, when CaptainAkryd arrived and embracedher.“You were right,” he said

apologetically. She could seehis faceproperly for the firsttimewith his helm removed.It was a homely face, roundand ruddy, with only thetracings of spirit symbolsabout one brow and temple.The face of a farmer, or ahusband, or a good father.“Forgive my opposition,M'Lady. We'd have sufferedfar worse than this had westayed in Ymoth, with theoutcome yet uncertain. This

has been a glorious victory,anditistrulyyours.”“No,” Sasha said quietly.

“It's theirs.” Nodding to themen about, particularly backtowherethewoundedandthedeadlay.“Aye, M'Lady. We found

Lord Usyn slain on thebattlefield. Several seniorlords, also. Hadryn isseverelywounded,nowondertheyretreatinsuchdisorder.”Sasha blinked. Usyn dead.

Just like that. She did notknow who would be incommand now. He had ayounger brother, sherecalled…buttooyoungtobeonthisride.ThegreatHadrynarmywas leaderless.“They'llfall back into the valleynow,” she said quietly.“They'll know we havesuffered losses, and willdelay. They'll know thatPrince Koenyg will ridebehindus and they'll hope to

hold out long enough forKoenygtorescuethem.”“Aye.” Akryd nodded.

“They have little otherchoice.DoesM'Ladywishtomakecamphere?”Sasha shook her head.

“This is too exposed to therear. The moon rises. We'llridetonight,forcetheHadrynfarupthevalley.Wecanrestwhenwe'recamped.”Akryd bowed. “I shall

makearrangements.”

Approaching midnight, andthe clouds had cleared. Themoonburnedintheskyabovethe Udalyn Valley like asmall silver sun. To eitherside,thevalleysidesloomed,bathed in moonlight, theirbroad slopes patched withfields and forest, grain andpaddocks. Little cottageswatchedover their respectivelands, some high on the

furthestslopes,othersnestledon the banks of the river, orhidden amongst folds in thevalleyside. The Yumynisflowed broad and straightdown the valley centre,flanked by green pasture andfields of grain. Its watersgleamed silver in themoonlight, and the entiremajestic valley seemed towait,andwatch,withhushedanticipation.Sasharodeneartheheadof

thecolumn,alongaroadthatlifted slightly on the slopingright bank of the river, andfelt her skin prickleuncontrollably beneath herclothes.Theairseemedwarmas a gentle southerly breezeblewfrombehindtheirbacks.She had never been herebefore, and yet it felt asfamiliar as the BaerlynValley.She felt herself filled with

longing. She wanted to call

upAndreyisfromthecolumnbehind, and talkwith him asthey once had talked—aschildrenonthehillsidebytheranch, eating fruit from oneof Madyn's orchards, andtalking about horses, orswordwork, or the doings ofother Baerlyn children, andhowstupidtheyallwere.ButAndreyis had survived hisfirstbattlewithglory,a riderfrom the rear had told her,and now rode with his

comrades as an equal for thefirsttime.Now she felt more apart

from that idyllic childhoodworldthanever.Kessligh,thetoweringpillarofthoseyears,had become someone fardifferent than she'd realised.Andreyis was no longer aboy,butawarrior,bloodedinbattle. Baerlyn had lostDobyn the drummer, whosewonderful rhythmswould nolongerfilltheSteltsynStaron

a rowdy evening, andTesseryl the farmer, whowould no longer share freshmountainoliveandgoatcurdwith his neighbours. FarmerLyndan,fromwhomKesslighhad often bought chickens,had lost a hand—a commonenough injury in cavalryexchanges. But he'd been ingoodspirits,declaringthatheand Geldon the baker couldnow compare stumps, andthat chickens required no

more than five fingersanyhow. Nothing was as ithad been, and there was nogoingback.Ahead, Sasha realised that

someonewas singing. It wasa low, gentle voice, barelyaudibleabovetheploddingofhooves and the shifting ofharness.But itwasbeautiful,andstrange,ofliltingmelodyand haunting melancholy.The singer did not seem towish to bring attention to

herself, yet all murmuredconversationbehindceasedasmen listened to the song. Itwas Aisha, Sasha realised,andhervoicewasfairindeed.Sheseemed tosense, then,

that theattentionwasonher,and sang louder. Clear notesdrifted on the moonlit air,high against the soaringvalley sides. Sasha could notmakeouttheexactwords,butit seemed that she sang of alost friend, of suffering seen

and partaken in, and ofbeloved lands, family andfriends far away. The gentleswaying of Sasha's saddleseemed in time to theceaseless murmur of thenever-ending river, and thevast, beautiful silence of thefields, farms and cottages.Shefoundherself thinkingofall the strands inher life thathad brought her to this point—of Krystoff and Kessligh,of Torvaal and her mother.

And those more recent faces—Sofy, Damon, her friendsinBaerlyn,andAndreyisandLynette in particular. Jaryd.Captain Tyrun. Of friendsmadeupontheroad,andthenlostforever.Tears prickled at her eyes.

Toherside,shesawthatSofytoo rode with tears in hereyes. And yet, for all hersadness, she rode with anewfound confidence,straight-backedandcertainin

the saddle. Whatever thetears, her eyes never stoppedwanderingasshegazedaboutat this legendary sight inwonder. Sasha extended ahand down to her. Sofylookedup,claspedhersister'shand,andsmiled.

SASHA AWOKE TO THE

DISORIENTATION of acomfortablebedandblankets.She looked across the littleroom and found Sofy's bedempty. Daylight streamedthroughthewindowand,withit, the sounds of camp fromthe lower slopes—whinnying

horses and soldiers at earlymuster. Somewhere distant,shefanciedshecouldheartheyells and grunts of morningdrill as soldiers trained uponanavailablepatchofground.Beyond that, drumming fromthe Udalyn wall. Sometimesit seemed that they'd neverstop.Surely they'dbegettingtired, after two days andnightswithoutpause.She blinked at the ceiling,

massaging her aching

shoulder, and trying to clearher head from sleep. It wasthe third morning after thevictories of Ymoth and theYumynisPlain.Thepreviousevening,thekinghimselfhadarrivedattheheadofanarmyof nearly six thousand.Torvaal, at least, was takingno chances. The banners lastevening had suggested thatKoenyg was with him, andprobablyDamonaswell, butthe light had been poor and

the royal messenger had notbothered to clarify. She wasto meet with the king thismorning. The very thoughtwasenoughtomakeherwishshe could roll over and gobacktosleep.Thelittleroomhadastone-

paved floor covered by athick rug. The beds were ofsimple wooden frame. Theroom, and the entire cottage,had a simple dignity thatappealedtoher.

From beyond the window,shecouldhearSofyhumminga tune in the garden. Thesplash of water from a pail.An inaudible question fromone of the guards…althoughSashacouldguess.Acheerfulreply,andthesplashofmorewater being gathered, thenpoured. Sasha smiled. Sofywould give the entire guardcontingentgreenthumbssoonenough. Kessligh wouldapprove.

Sasha stretched achinglimbs,carefulofhershoulder,and then began to dress inclean clothes she'd washedthe day before, and driedbefore the fire that night.She'd washed herself too, inthe warm water, and what aluxury that had been. Oncedressed, she straightened outthebedandmadeaspiritsignto the house spirit forwatching over her and hersister while they slept …not

thatshetrulybelievedinsuchthings, but because shesuspected the Udalyn whoowned this housemight, anditwasconsideredbadlucktoleave such things neglectedforanyperiod.Stepping into the main

room, she found that theinterior guard had alreadystartedafireinthecentralpitandwasboilingsomewater.“Hello!” said the guard

with a bright smile. “Would

you like some tea?” Sashablinked.ItwasAndreyis.“I'dlovesome,”shereplied

with a sleepy grin, trying tobrushherhairbackintoplacewith both hands as shewalked over. “How did yougrabthisduty?”Andreyis grinned even

more broadly, and lookedsmug. “The honour is beinggiven to all those ofoutstandingservice.Themenchose me to represent

Baerlyn.” And he shrugged,stirringtheteawithawoodenspoon. “I know they're justbeingnice.And Idon't thinkanyofthemreallyfanciedthemorningshift.”Sasha considered him as

she blinked sleep from hereyes.Was ither imagination,or did he wear the sword athis hip with greaterconfidencenow?Andhadheeven filled out a littlewithinhisjacket?

Andreyis poured the tea—itwasstrong,asheknewsheliked it. They talked of themen and the horses. It hadbeen another delight todiscover that of her belovedhorses,onlyonehadbeenleftbehind at Ymoth, and thatonlyforastrainedhindleg.Teriyan had embraced her

uponfirstseeingherafterthebattles, and had called her a“bloody genius,” professingthat he'd expected half of

themtowindupdeadevenifthings went well. “If youhadn't seen straight throughthatsnottylittlebastard,we'dhavemetthemoneventermsand lost five times as manymen!Yousavedanincrediblenumberofmen,Sasha!We'reall damn proud of you, andKesslighwillbetoowhenhehearsofit!”WhichhadmadeSasha feel at least a littlebetter, about Dobyn andTesseryl in particular…but

notenough.Halfway through tea, the

front door opened and Sofyentered, carrying an emptybucket that held gardeningtools, her hands smeared inrich, black dirt. “Goodmorning!” she said brightly,depositing the bucket on thetable.“Highness,”saidAndreyis,

andbowed.“Oh, stop that!” Sofy

reprimandedwithaslapathis

arm.“Sasha,I'vealreadytoldhim that he's like an oldfriend,buthekeepsbowing.”“It is my honour and

privilege,” said Andreyis,with a faintly mischievousconfidence.“Iwishyou'dbowlikethat

to me occasionally,” Sashaofferedpasthercup.“Not bloody likely,”

Andreyisretortedwithagrin.SashaandSofylaughed.Many had seemed to

expectSofytotradepantsandjacket for her dress andresume princesslyways oncesome semblance ofcivilisationhadbeenrestored.Certainly any number ofyoung soldiers remainedreadyandeager towaituponhereveryneed.AndyetSofyremained in the clothes she'driddenin,alternatingbetweenthose and some others she'dborrowed from the cottage,seemingtobelongtoaboyof

younger years. When asked,she'dsimplysmiledandsaid,“Therewillbeplentyof timefordresseslater,I'msure.”Muchofthepasttwodays,

she'd spent watering andtending to the gardens,accumulating dirt stains onclothes and face, andbecomingsweatyinthewarmmidday sun. Sasha was surethat“happy”hardlydescribedSofy's mood. But it wasequally plain that whatever

unhappiness there was, thegardening was a part of thecure.Sasha went outside to sit

on the wooden bench beforethe lower garden and surveythe scene as she ate somebreakfast. Sunlight fell uponthe valley's far slope,although this, the easternside, remained in shadow.Snowcaps upon the furthermountains gleamed in thelight, and the terraced fields,

cottages, orchards and trailsalong the valley's westernside shone in serene, goldendetail.Across the valley floor

below camped her army…ifone could call it a camp.There were no tents, ofcourse, although men weresharing emptyaccommodation on rotatingshifts. There were many,many hundreds of horsesacross the green fields to

either side of the Yumynis,and many thousands moreback to the south.Theyweremore than seven thousand,now,andmorehadcontinuedto appear up until the king'sarrival last evening. Evennow, she could see perhapsthree hundred horse to eitherside of the river, formed andready, in case of action. Atnight, that number doubled,and shifts were constantlyrotated. But the moon had

beenfullandtheHadrynhadnotriskedsuchoverwhelmingodds.Further north, the Hadryn

camp appeared strangelyorderly by contrast, whitetentslinedinneatrowsacrossthe fields. Black bannersflew, and catapults stood atintervals along the line, theirlong arms drooping as themorning shadow crept acrossthe valley floor. Men couldbe seen exercising and

drilling, othersmoving aboutthetents, tendingtofiresandbreakfast. Horses grazed onthe grass, and opposingformations of infantry andcavalry remained also onpermanent watch—theirnumbers roughly similar towhat opposed them. Athousand remaining cavalry,it had been estimated, andanother two thousandinfantry. Not nearly enoughto break through the force

thathadtrappedthem.Beyond theHadryn,where

the grassy fields turned torising rock, and the valleysides began to draw togetherin steep, precipitous sides, astonewallspannedthevalleyfrom side to side, its endsburiedintonear-verticalcliff.Blue and gold banners hungalongthewall,thecoloursofthe Udalyn, and warriorscould be seen moving uponthe battlements. There was a

large single wooden gate onthis side of the river, asmalleroneuponthefarside.Most amazingly of all, theYumynis River spewedthroughanarrowcleftinthatrock,aroaringsprayofwhitefoam.TheUdalynhadmovedthe river, a long time ago.The wall's foundationsspanned a dry, rockydepression where the riverhad evidently once flowed.They must have carved this

steep,narrowcut themselves,diverted the waters into it,then built the wall over it.Thescaleofitamazedher.Several Udalyn warriors

had climbed across the steepcliffs andaround thewall bymoonlight to tell those whocouldunderstandtheirbrokenTaastithattherewerecavesatthevalley'send.Thousandsofpeople were hiding there,having left their land beforethe advancing Hadryn wave,

driving most of theirlivestock before them. Foodfor people and animals wasconstantlystockpiledinthosecaves,andtheUdalynwerealongwayfromhungryyet.The wall was another

matter, cracked andcrumbling beneath theconstant pounding ofHadrynartillery.Inseveralplaces,thewall had collapsed entirely.The Hadryn had made fourbreaches, the Udalyn said,

andthentriedanattack.Evenwith four separate points ofattack, their men had takenheavy casualties fromarrowfireasthey'dscrambledup the unstable mounds ofstone, and had then metferocious resistance at thetop. The Hadryn haddismantled houses and fencewalls in their thirst forammunition, and many oftheir catapults had requiredrepair. From her seat, Sasha

could see new, developingbreaches in the wall, wherethesheer facewascrumblingand leaning, and artillerystoneswere piled high at thebase. Another two days,perhaps, and there wouldhave been seven breaches.TheHadrynhadbeenmakingmoreladderstoo,usingwoodfrom the forests aroundYmoth.Even the most confident

Udalyn had admitted that

would have been the end.They had been somewhatsurprised to be rescued.LikeLordKrayliss, it seemed thatthey too had lost all faith inthe mercy of Verenthanekings. Sasha wondered ifdespite their isolation, they'dsomehow managed to knowsomethingothershadnot.Sofy joined her on the

bench with a cup of water,butno food.“You'veeaten?”Sasha asked her about a

mouthful.“It's late,” Sofy said with

mild amusement. “You keepmissingbreakfast.”Sasha restrained another

yawn,and stretchedher legs.“I haven't slept this well inyears,”sheconceded.“Fatherwillaskaboutme,”

Sofy said then. Gazing outacross the Udalyn wall, andthe opposing armies. Thesoundofdrumsdriftedonthegolden air. The Udalyn

messengers had beendisappointed that she refusedto countenance wiping outthose Hadryn who remained.They'd offered to coordinatean attack, pouring from theirgateintotheHadryn'srearasSashaattackedfromthefront.From the sound of thedrumming, however, it didnotseemas if they'dallowedtheirdisappointmenttogetinthe way of a goodcelebration.“He'llwanttoask

aboutthemarriage.”Sasha chewed for a

moment as the porridgeseemedtoloseitstasteinhermouth. “What do you wantmetosay?”sheasked.Sofy sighed, and adjusted

her ponytail. It seemed toSasha that she might haveevenhaditcutalittle.Barelyseven days ago, such adecision would have beenmonumental.“SaythatI'lldoit,” Sofy said quietly. “Say

that I'llmarry thatbastard. Ifit's what Father and Koenyghavetrulydecided.”Sasha said nothing. She

wantedtoprotest.Badly.Butthen…She placed a hand onSofy's arm and gazed at herclosely. “Are you certain? Ihave some bargaining powerhere,Sofy.Wehavemuchofthe Hadryn army trapped,Father's most loyalsupporters. Several of hisclosest northern lords also.

FatherandKoenygwillneedsuchmeniftheywishtojointhewarinthelowlands.”Sofy met her gaze, in

sombreearnest.“Iknow,”shereplied. “I know you havebargainingpower,Sasha.Andthat's just why you can'twaste it on me. I've…I'vebeen doing a lot of thinking.Thisisjust…”andshewaveda hand at the view beforethem. “The things that I'veseen in the last fewdays just

make everything lookdifferenttowhatitdidbefore.I mean, when I heard theword ‘marriage’…my headwas so full of all the thingsAlythia has been frettingabout, wedding preparationsand ceremonies and whetherornotshe'dlikeherin-laws.“But it's so much more

thanthat,isn'tit?”Sheshookher head in disbelief.“Seriously,Ican'tbelieveI'vebeensoselfish.Allthesemen

who live and die by thedecisions people like usmake. All of their families,deprived of fathers, brothersand sons. You've led arebellion, Sasha. You'vetrapped theHadryn, but nowFather's forces have ustrapped. You'll need all yourbargaining power to gainclemency for these men, forthe sake of their families.You'll need it to ensure theUdalyn are safer in future.

Lenayin cannot remain sodivided,orall thisbloodshedwill be just the beginning,won'tit?“You can't put that at risk

for me. When I found outKoenyg's plans I thought itwas the worst thing in theworld that could possiblyhappen to me. But now, tothink that I might beresponsible in some way formore ofwhat I sawon thosebattlefields…” Sofy shook

herhead,adamantly.“It's theleastIcando,Sasha.IfIneedtomarrysomeoneIdisliketohelp keep Lenayin whole, itshall be a vastly smallersacrifice than the alternative.I won't be the first to suffersuchafate.I'llsurvive.”Sasha held Sofy's hand,

tightly.Therewasno signoftears in her sister's eyes. Itwas clear that she had giventhis much thought, and hadarrivedatsomekindofpeace

with it. Past the sadness,Sasha felt a pride so intenseshe thought she might burst.“Koenygmighthavechangedhis mind, Sofy,” she saidgently. “Father too. Theirplans haven't worked outanything like they'danticipated.”Sofy gave a sad smile and

shook her head. “You don'tknow Koenyg or Father aswell as I do. Thesepreparationsarefaradvanced.

Lenayin would lose face toback out now. In Koenyg'seyes, to lose face is to die.AndFather…hasnotchangedhis mind on anything sinceKrystoffdied.”“We can hope,” Sasha

offered.Sofy squeezed her hand

tightly. “We can hope,” sheagreed.

Afterbreakfast,Sasharodetothe cottage her father's menhad selected, further backalong the valley. Ahead andto the rear rode the men ofher vanguard who hadprotected her through bothbattles, and now sat astridewith the hard-edged pride ofthose who had earned greathonour and respect amongsttheirpeers.DirectlyatSasha'srear rode Jaryd, in the fullcolours and armour of

Commander of the FalconGuard, and Captain Akryd,likewise resplendent asCaptainoftheRedSwords.Itwasmidmorningandthe

sunwas threatening to breakclear of the ridges above,sunlight now falling goldenuponmostofthevalleyfloor.Encamped across the valleyfloor and up either slopingsidemassedtheking'sarmy.She gazed across the trees

and fields along the terraced

slopes as they rode,marvellingatthewidevarietyof crops, the ingenuity ofdownhill irrigation ditchesandtheprofusionoftreesthatkept thesoilstable.Hereandthere were talleryn posts,engraved with the curlingscript of Edu writings.Colourful flags flew likestreamersabovelongterracesof grain…to keep the birdsoff,Sashaguessed.And theywerebeautiful,swirlinginthe

valley breeze. Along fencepoststherewerewindchimes,making gentle music of thebreeze.Soon the small column of

riders came upon a cottage,withmanyhorsestetheredbya bend, guarded by soldiers.Flags flapped, the royal flagmost prominently of all. Theleadriderhaltedthemshortofthe other horses, and theydismounted.Jaryd and Akryd walked

with her along the roadtowardthepaththatleduptothe cottage, as thevanguardsmen remainedbehind.AVerenthaneRoyalGuard

lieutenant stopped the trio atthe base of those steps,resplendent in full coloursand gleaming helm.“M'Lady,” he said, with avery faint bow. “You mustsurrender your weapons toentertheking'spresence.”

Sasha eyed the horsestethered further up the road.They were splendid indeed,and several were of variousshades of white or grey, acolour favoured by breedersfrom the royal stables. “NoLenay commander yet hascome to parley betweenarmieswithoutweapons,”sherepliedtothelieutenant.“M'Lady, it is the king,”

the lieutenant replied sternly.“Youmustdisarm.”

Sasha repressed a snort ofdisgust, and gave a signal toher companions. Together,they turned about and begantowalk back to their horses.“M'Lady!”Frombehindtherewerefootstepsandmutteringsof consternation. The threewere halfway back to thehorses when there cameanother call from behind.“M'Lady, we havereconsidered!”Sasha stopped, turned

about,andgavethegatheringof soldiers a very displeasedlook. “Told you it wouldwork,” she murmured fromthe side of her mouth atJaryd, as they began theirwalkback.“M'Lady is truly

insightful,” Jaryd muttered.Sasha gave him a worriedlook. Probably it was not agood idea to have him here.But then, such talks requiredthe presence of the most

senior and,with Tyrun dead,that meant Jaryd. Lord orpeasant, he was stillCommander of the FalconGuard.Sasha allowed Jaryd to

take the lead up the stairs.Therewere flowerpots at thecottage entrance, whereseveral more Royal Guardsstood at attention. Severallong-stemmed flowers werebent.Sasha steppedacross tothem, with a disapproving

cluck of the tongue at theguardsmen.“We are guests in these

houses, gentlemen,” she saidsternly, straightening theflowers. “Kindly look aftertheir property as you wouldyour own. Or else the housespiritswillbecomeupsetwiththe mess, and haunt yoursleep.”Andwith that, shewalked

inside, satisfied with thedisquiet on several faces at

that last remark. EvenVerenthanes could becomesuperstitious of Goeren-yaispirits, in the land of theUdalyn.The house was plain and

simple like the many othersthat dotted the valley. Menstoodaboutadiningtableandturned to observe the newentrants. Sasha saw herfather, slim and dark in ablack cloak against themorning'schill.Heworemail

beneath,withleathershoulderguards and heavy boots.Sasha's gaze lingered. Shecould not recall the last timeshe'd seen her father inmail,with a sword at his side. Achildhoodparade,perhaps.Koenyg, of course, was

similarly attired. A king inwaiting. Damon leanedagainst the farwall, a cup inhand.Whiletheotherslookedgrim, Damon's expressionwas sour. From his posture

andexpression,andhisplaceatthebackoftheroom,Sashaguessed that he did not feelhimself to be in goodcompany. She hoped he'dbeen making a pain ofhimself.Of the others, well…here

was Great Lord Kumaryn,stiff as a poker. Spirits knewwhy anyone thought himimportant enough to includein this gathering. And therewas Great Lord Rydysh of

Ranash no less.Also presentwasLordArastynofTyree…no, Sasha corrected herself,GreatLordArastynofTyree.His handsomegaze, fixedonJaryd, held a curious,expressionlessintensity.The last two great lords

were Lord Faras of Isfayenand Lord Parabys of Neysh.The south, Sasha thoughtdarkly. The other large pieceoftheVerenthanepuzzle.Thesouth had harboured

Verenthanes longbefore theybecamepopular intherestofLenayin.“MyLords,”Sashasaidby

wayofgreeting.Shedidnot,she was surprised to realise,feel particularly anxious.There were nearly seventhousand men under hercommand. Her forces couldbe destroyed if attacked, butthe catastrophewould not behers alone. Hers was aposition of power. However

her father andKoenygmightdesire it, she would notgrovel or plead. “We are allknowntoeachother,I'msure.Shallwesit?”King Torvaal gazed at her

foralongmoment.Everyoneawaited his command.Koenyg,Sashanoted,seemedto be grinding his teeth. AsCommander of Armies, andprotectorof the realm, surelyit grated to be outranked insuch a setting. Even by his

king. The tension in the airfelt different than she'dexpected. Men held theirtongues and their tempers.They stood with a faintlyawkward manner, as ifuncertain of their standing.KingTorvaalhadnotneededto ride forth from Baen-Tarand deal with a militarymatter for quite some time.Since theGreatWar, in fact,when he'd been barely morethanalad.Nodoubtthelords

wondered if the king wastrulyuptothetask.Well. Sasha wondered

herself.“Sofy is with you?”

Torvaalasked.“Concerned, were you?”

Sasha nearly remarked, butrefrained. “She is,” she saidinstead.“Did she discover the

weddingplans?”Sombrely.Sasha stared at him for a

long moment. “You don't

soundsurprised.”“It was necessary,” said

Torvaal, closing his eyesbriefly. “It remainsnecessary.” The eyes openedand fixed on her directly,with more than their usualimpassivity. Brooding. “Themarriageremainsasarranged.It shall proceed becauseLenayin requires it. On thispoint I shall brook noargument.”“Sofy tells me she no

longer objects,” Sashareplied. “You make nodecisionsforher.Shegoesofher own free will.” At theback of the room, Damonstared at his boots. GreatLord Rydysh of Ranashlookedseverelyagitated.Torvaal indicated to the

table. There were only twochairsset,oneoneitherside.Sashanodded and stepped toher seat, waiting first for theking to sit.Then sat, directly

opposite her father. Itoccurred to her, looking athimnow,thattheyhadneversat together like this before.Krystoff, Koenyg or Damonmight have chanced amomentwiththeirfather,butthegirlsdidnotwarrantsuchattention.The old anger resurfaced,

cold and hard. Temperednow, by the circumstances,butrealenough.He'dignoredher before, all her views,

values and opinions. Now,finally, she would not beignored.There was a pitcher of

water and two cups on thetable.Torvaaltookthepitcherhimself,andpouredintobothcups. Raised his cup to hislips,invitingherwithhiseyesto do likewise. “Don't drinkit, M'Lady,” said Jaryd frombehind. “There's poisons thatcanbeputon thecup,not inthewater.”

Torvaal stared up at theyoung man with genuineanger. “Master Jaryd,” hesaid coldly, “I would neverpoisonmyowndaughter.”“Then you'd be the only

man amongst youwho couldsay that for truth,Highness,”Jarydsaiddarkly.“You have no standing

here, Jaryd,” Lord Arastyntold him, very coolly. “Youarea traitor toTyree.FamilyNyvar is no more, all its

properties and titles arebarren. I have no idea whySashandra brought you, youare less than a landlesspeasant.”Sasha hoped Captain

Akryd would restrain Jarydbefore he tried anythingstupid. But she made certainthat her chair remained asuitable distance from thetable, her feet braced uponthe floor, rehearsing in hermindafastgrabforherblade.

“I am Commander of theFalconGuard,”Jarydreplied.There was no apparenttension in his voice, whichonly made it all the moreominous.“And I just told you that

youarenot,”Arastynreplied.“The men of the Falcon

Guard tell me I am,” saidJaryd. “There aremenof theTyreeWhiteTalonswho sayso as well, and will tell anyothers of the commonfolk in

Tyree who care to listen.How long will the noblefamilies of Tyree surviveshould both their vauntedcompanies and most of thecommonfolk,VerenthaneandGoeren-yai, decide that youhave outlived yourusefulness?”“Your Highness,” Lord

Rydysh broke in angrily, inheavilyaccentedLenay,“thisismadness!Youbargainwithtraitors! Look, this whelp

threatens insurrection evennow!”“Any enemy of the Tyree

nobility is an enemy of theValhanan nobility too,” LordKumaryn added, ominously,looking hard at Jaryd.“Should our noble friends inTyree be threatened, all ofValhanan shall ride to theiraid.”“All of Valhanan wouldn't

ride to your funeral,Kumaryn,” Jaryd retorted.

“You don't speak for all ofValhanan any more than IspeakforallofSaalshen.”“Silence!” Torvaal

shouted. From either side ofthe table, the lords glared atJaryd and Akryd. Behindthem, Damon took anothersip from his cup, apparentlydisgusted. “I shall not havearrogant fools destroy thesetalks before they have evenbegun.”“Talks!” Lord Rydysh

snorted. “She's yourdaughter! Bring her to heellike a true Verenthane lord,show her her place with thebackofyourhand!”“You watch your mouth

with the king!” Koenygsnarled, turning on thenortherngreatlord.“Bah!” Lord Rydysh

waved a dismissive hand.“Southerners have no balls.Your Highness, I tell youagain—letmeraisemyforces

and we'll ride through thesetraitors like a scythe throughwheat!”“Shehasseventhousandto

command,” Lord Parabys ofNeysh came to his king'sdefence. “Don't be a damnfool,man.”“Seven thousand and the

Udalyn,” Sasha told them.“They've barely any cavalry,but taken all together it's agood ten thousand warriors.Onemoveagainstmeandall

Hadryn's remaining forceshall be destroyed betweenus.We'll give them asmuchmercy as they gave theUdalyn. That'll be most ofHadryn's standing soldierygone.Andalmost all of theirlords,Ibelieve.”“You unutterable fool!”

exclaimed Lord Kumaryn,horrified. “You are notmerelyatraitor,butanenemyof Lenayin! The Hadryn arethe shield of the north! You

would destroy the veryprotection that savesLenayinfromCherrovandomination!”“I'mnotplayingdice fora

few coppers here!” Sasharetorted,allowinghervoicetorise in volume. “I knowexactlywhat I'mupagainst.”With a hard stare at LordRydysh. “You have all lostthe Goeren-yai. Not all ofthem,butanawfullot.That'sneither my fault, nor mydoing—I was recruited,

plucked from my dungeonwithoutanyforeknowledgeofwhat had been planned. Thisuprisingwastheirchoice,notmine.“You'vemade amess, my

Lords. You've ignored thewishes of the very peoplewhosewelfareissupposedtobeutmost inyourhearts,andnowyoupay the price.Theywillnot just liedownand letyourideoverthetopofthem.If you fight them, they will

fight back, and youknowbynow that there's an awful lotof them. It's your choice,myLords.I'mperfectlyhappyforit all to stop right here. Butthetermsmustbefavourable.Unfavourable terms havealready roused them to fightonce. Assuredly they coulddosoagain.”“No terms!” snarled Lord

Rydysh, utterly unimpressed.“No terms with pagantraitors!Notonnorthernsoil!

Wewouldratherdie!”“Perhaps that's just as

well,” Sasha said coldly.“We've already killed two ofthe threenortherngreat lordsthisride.Whydon'twemakeitacleansweep?”LordRydyshglaredather,

hisnarrow,darkeyesblazingfury.NoonehadrealisedthatGreatLordCyanofBannerydhad been amongst thedefenders of Ymoth. He'dpartaken in the cavalry

defenceanddiedwithinafewstrides of Captain Tyrunbefore the Ymoth walls.Wordhad reachedSasha justahead of King Torvaal'sarrival, when someone fromthe Ymoth burial detail hadrealised just who the corpsehadbeen.SashagaveLordRydysha

nasty little smile. “It hasn'tbeen a wonderful month fornorthern great lords, has it?Three in thirty days. Your

godsmustloveyoudearly,tobeclaimingyouallsofast.”“You speak of the deaths

ofLenayin's finest as thoughit gave you pleasure!”Kumarynexclaimed.“Lenayin's finest picked

their fight with me and withthe Goeren-yai long ago,”Sasha replied, unimpressed.“Their fight, theirconsequences, their problem.Notmine.”“You speak as though all

theGoeren-yaiworshipyou,”said Great Lord Faras ofIsfayen, contemptuously.“The Goeren-yai of Isfayenhavebarelyheardyourname.It is the same inmost of thewestandthesouth.Thenorthdespises you, and there arefew Goeren-yai ofconsequenceinBaen-Tar.“In truth, all that follow

you can be drawn fromValhanan, Tyree andTaneryn.Youmaystandnow

with seven thousand beneathyou, but should the othergreat lords call their forcesdown upon you, seventhousand would seem as asaplingbeforetheforest.TheGoeren-yai of Isfayen shallnotweepforyou.”Sasha knew that he spoke

the truth. The Goeren-yai ofthe western provinces ofYethulyn, Fyden and Isfayenpractised ancient beliefstending toward a mysticism

that very few easternerspretended to understand. Allhad been traditionally hostiletowardforeigners,andsohadhad little contact with eitherserrin or fellow Lenays overthe centuries, except throughconquest and bloody battles.They had participated in theGreat War sparingly,preferringtolettheeasternersandnorthernersbleedagainsttheinvadingCherrovanarmy.Kesslighwasnolegendworth

the speaking in thewest, andthe Nasi-Keth just anotherbunch of odd foreigners.Company soldiershad riddenwithher,thosehavingbeeninBaen-Tar, and having seenand heard of injusticefirsthand, and companysoldiers tended to be morewell travelled thanmost.Butfor the most part, she wouldfindno love in thewest, andprobably not in the south,either. Neither would the

serrin.“Youmayspeakthetruth,”

said Captain Akryd at herback, long-haired and grim,his thumbs tucked into hisswordbelt. “It matters not.She has Taneryn, she hasValhanan and she has muchofTyree.IspeakforTanerynin Lord Krayliss's absence.Notmanyofuscaredforthatpompous goat. But we carefortheUdalyn,andwerejecttheruleofVerenthanelords.”

His eyes fixed hard on hisking. “You are not KingSoros, Your Highness,” hecontinued. “You have notcome to liberate us fromanything, and we don't oweyouanymorethanafistfulofhorseshit. Should you find aleader amongst the Taneryntoelevate toa lordship,we'llkill him. Should you sendpriests to convert our poorpagan souls, we'll kill them.Should you send a

Verenthane lord from theoutside to rule over us, we'llkill him. Should you sendarmiestoenforceanyoftheserules, we'll fight them untilthere'snotaTanerynmanleftalive.”“That is acceptable!” Lord

Rydysh spat. “YourHighness, please accept thispagan'schallenge.”“Wearenotheretobargain

for the fate of Taneryn,”Koenyg told Captain Akryd,

unabletoholdhistongueanylonger. “We discuss the fateoftheUdalyn,andthefateofthe Hadryn army, and that'sall!”“It'sthesamething!”Sasha

retorted in exasperation.“You don't understand athing, Koenyg. You neverdid.” Her eldest brotherglared at her. “The Goeren-yaiofTaneryn,ValhananandTyree are angry as all hells.Angryenough todefyaking

they've otherwise alwaysrespected. And they do stillrespectyou,Father.”MeetingTorvaal's impassive stareacross the table. “Don't they,Captain?”“Aye, M'Lady,” Akryd

echoed. “Never had noquarrel with the king. Theking brings peace and trade.It's the lordswe'vehada fullstomachof.”“We're here to discuss

termsforapeace,”Sashasaid

firmly. “Terms acceptableenough to allow angry menwho've ridden against theking's wishes to go backhome and care for theirfamilies. If you don'tunderstand why they're soangry, then you'll never beable to offer those terms.They only ask you to listen,Father. Listen to them, asyou've been listening to thelords. The lords would haveyou believe that they are the

onlyvoice in the land.Thesementellyoudifferently.Onlyifyou listen toall the voicesof Lenayin can there bepeace.“Lords’ rule might work

well in the lowlands, butLenayin is different.Lowlands peasants live theirwhole lives doing what theirlords tell them. It doesn'twork here, and it's time allyoulowland-loverslearnedit!Lenays have never liked

beingtoldwhattodo!They'drather fight.Even thepoorestLenayfarmer isa formidablewarrior.You've been kickingthe hornets’ nest for far toolong, my Lords, and finallythe hornets are swarming. Ionly tell you what you needto know to let them go backto their nests and leave youalone. But if you refuse tolisten,therewillbenothinginLenayin's future but bloodand tears. Even in Isfayen,”

she added, with a glaretoward Lord Faras, “wherethe Goeren-yaimay not givea holy damnation about me.You try and put them underthe feudal yoke, there'll beenough blood on the hills ofIsfayen tomake the riversofRaanirunredforamonth.”“Name your terms,”

Torvaal said suddenly. Sashastared at him, completely offguard. Blinked, trying togather her thoughts. Behind

their king, the lords wereseething, but they dared notinterrupt once the king hadmadehis request. She had togetthisright.“Safe passage for all these

men,” she said finally.“Reinstatement of all thosewhomayhavelost title,rankor pay—with nopunishments.”Torvaalsimplylistened, his black-glovedfingers interlaced on thetabletop. “The Udalyn shall

be granted royal protection.Royal soldiers shall holdopen the Udalyn pass intoValhanan. The Udalyn shallbe allowed to trade, tomoveback and forth, and tobecome a part of broaderLenayin.Royal soldiers shallensure the safety of anymovingalongthepass.”“Impossible!” Lord

Rydysh snapped. “TheHadryn shall never agree!RoyalsoldiersonHadrynsoil

is a violation of the sanctityof lords’ rights, an insult toHadryn pride, and is againstthe letterof theking's lawaswrittenbyKingSoros!”“King Soros is dead,”

Sashareplied,lookingonlyather father. “King Torvaalrulesnow.”Perhapstherewasa flicker of response in herfather's dark eyes. Ormaybeshe imagined it. It wasunclear why the Hadryn hadnot sent a representative to

these talks. Perhaps, withUsyn dead, they had notreached agreement on wholed them. Or they found theprospect of talks with theirfemale vanquisher tooshameful to bear. Even so,Sasha suspected somethingmore was at play. Wherematters of power were inquestionbetweenlords,itwasalways safest to assumeintrigue.“Continue,”her fathersaid

simply.“No additional powers

shall be granted to the greatlords, nor to the nobility ingeneral—no new taxes, nonewrulesof justice,nomoreauthorityoverthepriesthood,nothing.” There were,predictably, cries of outrage.Sasha ignored them. So, forthemoment,didtheking.“Continue,” said Torvaal,

once theoutburstshadfaded.Could it be that there was a

faintly different expressionnowuponhisface?Itseemedto Sasha that there was…perhaps a wryacknowledgement of acommon exasperationbetween them—the lords.And, justmaybe, a hint of…no, not pride. Respect. Anacknowledgement thatperhaps father and daughter,as little as they knew eachother, were alike in onerespect—instubbornness,and

determination, and an utterdisdainforthedisapprovalofothers.“TheTanerynshallbefree

to choose their ownsuccession toLordKrayliss,”Sasha continued. “Iunderstand from CaptainAkryd that Krayliss's eldestson now claims the title ofgreat lord, but under theancientways,suchclaimscanbe challenged. I understandthat none of Krayliss's sons

are particularly respected inTaneryn,andachallengemaybeforthcoming.Whatevertheresult, the Verenthane greatlords, and the king, shouldrespecttheresult.”“The ancient ways have

never truly recognised greatlords, however Kraylissstyled himself,” Torvaalstated, with grim curiosity.“How can the laws of theancient ways determine theoutcome of a modern, and

some would claimVerenthane,invention?”Sasha blinked at him. It

was the question of aknowledgeableman.Shewasastonished. And, just asquickly, she doubted herself.How well did she know herfather truly? And how oftenhadKesslighinsisted,againsther own disbelief, that allthrough Krystoff's life, KingTorvaal had been a fair andjust man with the Goeren-

yai?ThingshadonlychangedwhenKrystoff haddied, he'dtold her. When the sheerweight of protest fromLenayin'sVerenthane leadershad shifted the path of thefuture, and convinced theking that his previous visionfor the kingdom had beenungodlyafterall.Herfather'sknowledge of the ancientwayswasnotdead,itseemed.Merelydormant.“The ancient ways are

flexible,” Captain Akrydspoke up. “Taneryn has itsown Rathynals, where chiefsand village seniors gather todiscuss matters of theprovince. We shall arrangeanother.Theoldwaysacceptmuch that is new, YourHighness, even if LordKrayliss did not. Not all inTanerynarelikehim.”“Might you stand for the

Great Lordship of Tanerynyourself,CaptainAkryd?”the

king asked shrewdly. “LordKrayliss spoke often ofsaving the Udalyn, but it isyouwhostandheretoday.”Sasha resisted the urge to

turnaroundandlook.Behind,sheheardacreakofmailandleather as Akryd shrugged.“Perhaps,”heanswered.Torvaal considered him

with narrowed eyes. Pressedhis lips thinandgazedoutofthe cottage windows acrossthe sunlit expanse of valley.

“It is beautiful here,” heconceded. “TheUdalyn havecared for their valley formanycenturies. It seems thatthegodshaveplansforthistocontinue.”“Your Highness!” Lord

Rydysh exclaimed angrily.“The gods put men in theworldtodotheirbiddingandfight their battles! One doesnot simply give up the battleas lost because of setbacks!Atleastwemustdemandthat

the Udalyn convert! This isVerenthane land, surroundedby Verenthane peoples! Toask the two to continue tocoexistwouldbefolly!”“They do everywhere else

in Lenayin,” the king saidmildly.“Whynothere?”“This is the north!” Lord

Rydysh seethed. “We valueour independence. Theselands are ours.We do thingsour way, Your Highness.King Soros decreed that it

wouldbeso.”“KingSoros is dead,” said

the king. “I rule now.” LordRydysh glared at him,grinding his teeth. Koenyglooked uncomfortable anduncertain. For twelve years,thepowerfulmenofLenayinhad taken the king's lack ofinvolvement in such mattersforgranted.Watching him, Sasha felt

her heart thumping with anew, hopeful urgency.Dared

shehope?Daredanyonehopethat the old king had finallyreturned?“The Hadryn have been

defeated on their home soil,Lord Rydysh,” Torvaal said.“The gods have chosen. Thevictorisclear.”King Torvaal turned to

Sasha. “Your terms areacceptable.” There was adeathly stillness.Sashacouldsee the lords thinkingfuriously.Shewonderedhow

long any decree, even theking's, could survive againstall the forces pushing theotherway.“I, however,” Torvaal

continued,“havetermsofmyown.”Sasha nodded. “Name

them.”“Allmenwhorodeonthis

adventure shall once againdeclare their fealty to thethrone, upon their honour.Only then shall they receive

theirpardon.”“Ofcourse,”Sashaagreed.

“Theyneverleftyourservice,Father. They fight unjustlords and bigotry, not theking.”“It gives me little comfort

topresideasaneutraloveraLenay civil war,” Torvaalsaid somewhat testily. “Sofyshall return to me, andquickly.”“Aye,” said Sasha. “She

will when she's ready.” Her

father'sstaredarkenedatthat.“Father,thisisherfirstbreathoffreedomineighteenyears!Givethegirlalittletime.”“Two days,” Torvaal said

firmly. “She keeps thecompany of rough men andsoldiers. People will talk. Itwillnotdo.”“She tends our wounded,”

Sasha corrected, dryly. “Sheassiststhoseinneed.”“Two days,” Torvaal

repeated.

Sasha sighed. “Aye, YourHighness.”“MasterJarydshallpresent

himselftohisTyreelordsforjudgment.”“Not a bloody chance,”

Sashasaidgrimly.“Sashandra,” said her

father,withthebeginningsoftemper,“thepowersofakingin Lenayin are limited. Thelords rule within theirprovinces, up to the pointwhere those rights come into

conflictwiththeking'slaw.Aking has no say in a fightbetween provincial lords.This is an internalmatter forTyree.Itmustbesettled.”“What's to settle?” Sasha

retorted, glaring at LordArastyn standing over by awindow.“FamilyNyvarisnomore.YouareGreatLordofTyreenow,Arastyn.WhydoyouneedJaryd?”“Tyree law is Tyree law,”

Arastyn said stonily. “It is

immutable.”“Aye, well we're not in

Tyree!” Sasha snapped. “Ihave seven thousand undermycommand,andImaketherules for men beneath mycommand. You want him,youcomeandgethim.”“Your Highness,” Arastyn

said to Torvaal, “she isunreasonable.” Torvaal gavehimalookthatsuggestedhima fool to have expectedanythingelse.

“Who'll you get to comeand take me?” Jaryd saidfrom Sasha's back. His tonewasflat,edgedwithdarkness.“The Falcon Guard? Theystand with me. You arepowerless, Arastyn. Apowerless coward. All thepower and wealth of theTyree nobility, and you'reafraid of one man who doesnotrespectyourlaws.“Well, damn right I don't

respectyourlaws.Ichallenge

those laws. I challenge you,Arastyn. I challengeyou toaduel. If you want me dead,you'll have to kill meyourself.”“Master Jaryd,” Arastyn

said, with dry contempt,“even a fool like you shouldknowour laws better than tothink a landless nothing likeyou can challenge hissuperiortoaduel.”“Verenthane law, aye,”

said Jaryd. “But notGoeren-

yai.”Arastyn stared at him,

uncomprehendingly.“Goeren-yai? Master Jaryd,youareaVerenthane.”“Aye,”saidJaryd,reaching

beneath his collar, “well, notanymore.”Hepulled freehisVerenthane star, snapped thesilver chain about his neckwithasharptug,andthrewitat Arastyn's feet. “I rejectyour gods. I reject your law.From this moment, I follow

the ancient ways. And Ichallenge you to mortalcombat,LordArastyn,fortheGreatLordshipofTyree,andthe death of my brother andfather.”About the room, men

stared in disbelief. “You…”Arastyn began, andfloundered,speechless.“You can't do that!”

exclaimed Lord Parabys,horrified.“Good gods, man!” said

Lord Kumaryn. “What ofyoursoul?”“Arastyntookthatwhenhe

killed my brother,” Jarydsnarled.“Ifthegodsshallnotallowmemy revenge, then Irestmyclaimwiththeancientspiritsinstead.”Koenyg snorted in

profound frustration, andflickedaglovedhandthroughhis hair. “Where's a priestwhen we need one?” hemuttered.

KingTorvaalfrownedhardat Jaryd. Evidently thinking.When was the last time aVerenthane noble hadconverted, Sasha wonderedpast her astonishment? If ithad ever happened, shecouldn't recall it. Plenty ofsenior Goeren-yai hadconverted the other way topleaseKingSoros…but this?She couldn't recall ithappening even amongstpoor,commonVerenthanes.

Lord Arastyn fingered hisown neckchainuncomfortably. He seemed anaturally calm and sensibleman.Atrustworthyman,withan inoffensive, handsomeface. Exactly the kind ofperson, Kessligh insisted inhis more cynical moments,from whom one shouldexpect the worst treachery.“Even if such a thing werepossible,” Arastyn saiddefensively, “you are still a

man of Tyree. You aresubject to our laws andpunishments.”“And as Goeren-yai,”

Sashaadded,“heisentitledtoredeem a slight upon hishonour, no matter how highthe rank of the man hechallenges.”“After his trial,” Arastyn

saidstubbornly.“Before,” Sasha insisted,

shaking her head. Nice try,slippery worm. “He can't

challengeafteryou'vecuthisheadoff.”“Actually,” said Captain

Akryd,conversationally,“thisisthekindofthingaGoeren-yaiman'simmediateheadmanor chieftain should decide.Duels must be conductedaccording to the properprotocol.”“Pagan madness!” Lord

Rydysh snarled, and strodefrom the cottage with adisgusted wave of his arm.

He exitedwith a slamof thereardoor.“Who would be Master

Jaryd's immediate superior?”asked the king, as if LordRydysh had never spoken,nor stormed out in rage.“Givenhis…circumstance?”“Your Highness!” Lord

Parabys exclaimed. “You'renot seriously consideringallowingthis…this…”“I'mnotapriest,butIdon't

see how a man can be

instructed by others on whathedoesordoesnotbelieve,”said the king, looking atAkryd.“Howaboutyourpoorbloody daughter?” Sashanearly asked, but didn't.“Captain Akryd, humour mycuriosity.”“Well, Your Highness,”

said Akryd, “I believe sinceMaster Jaryd isnotborn intoaGoeren-yaicommunity,andhas no village headman tospeak for him, his senior

commander in militarymatters should suffice for ajudgment.”“As the senior military

Goeren-yai,” Torvaalobserved, “that would beyou.”“Aye, Highness,” said

Akryd,somewhatsmugly.“Itseems a quandary, does itnot? One law forVerenthanes, another forGoeren-yai.”“One of the great

quandaries of Lenayin,” theking agreed. “Especiallyconsidering the Goeren-yaihavenowrittenlaw,andwillnotacceptone.There isonlytradition.”“Onereason,perhaps,why

Goeren-yai and Verenthanedo not frequently livetogether,”saidAkryd.“Thesesquabblescanbeconfusing.”“And one reason why

certain Verenthanes wouldlikenothingbetterthantosee

the Goeren-yai destroyedcompletely,” Sasha saiddarkly, with a stare at thelords.“Thereisnosolution,”said

Akryd with a shrug. “LordArastyn need not complywith Master Jaryd's demand,yettheoppositeisalsotrue.Itisthesortofmatteronwhicha king could intervene asjudge,YourHighness,butasyouhavealreadystated,kingscannot intervene on

provincialmatters.”“Hmm,” said Torvaal.

Another man, Sasha knew,might have raved at “paganmadness” just as LordRydysh had. But her fatherwas actually considering theproblem, no matter how itbotheredhisVerenthanesoul.This was why Kessligh hadserved the man sounswervingly for nearlytwenty years. King Torvaal,cold as stone and about as

impassive, was one of thefairestmeninLenayin.“Your Highness,” Lord

Arastyn said stonily, “MasterJarydmustfaceTyreejustice.This is imperative. We haveenoughgreatlordspresentforan appeal to be lodged,shouldyounot allowTyree'srightfuljustice.”“Any more out of you,”

Sasha told him, withdarkening temper, “and I'llchallenge you myself. I am

Verenthane and such is myright, since you've made nofindingoflaworanyotherofyour pointless horseshitagainstme.Unlessyoufancyyourself more than an equalto the departed Farys Varanwith a blade, I'd suggest youshutyourmouth.”“You would require fair

cause to challenge the GreatLord of Tyree,” Arastyn bitout, with barely restrainedfrustration and anger. “Your

fatherwouldhavetodecideifyourchallengewasvalid,andthereisnofaircausethatyoucouldofferthatwould…”“Fair cause!” Sasha said

loudly, placing both handsflattothetableasifpreparingto rise. “I am the uma ofKessligh Cronenverdt, thedaughter of King TorvaalLenayin, the saviour of theUdalyn people, and you'remakingmeangry!”Arastyn swallowed. There

were great lords who wouldhave accepted her challenge,not because they were fools,but because theywerebrave,and honourable, and Lenay.Lord Arastyn, Sasha wassourlynoting,seemedtohavedubiousclaimstoallthree.“Apersonal insultseemsa

very fair cause,” Damonoffered from the back of theroom.Hewasconsideringhiscup, offhandedly. “You'retryingtokillafriendofhers,

LordArastyn.Andafriendofmine. I think you'd best quitwhile you've still a head onyourshoulders.”Arastyn gave a bow. “I

must discuss withmy fellowTyree lords,” he said. “If Ican be excused…” He leftwithout waiting forconfirmation, following thepath that Lord Rydysh hadtakenoutthebackdoor.Sasha ran her gaze along

the remaining lords. “We're

losing them fast thismorning,” she remarked. “Iwonderwhoshallbenext?”“I have one more term to

state,”saidtheking.“Onlyone?Nameit.”“You yourself shall be

banished from Lenayin fortherestofyourlife.”Sasha gazed at him. Her

father's expression held noremorse, and no pity. FromKoenyg, she saw coldsatisfaction, as if there were

at least one good thing tohavecomefromtheseevents.She was not surprised. Sheknew the trouble that hercontinued presence inLenayin would cause thelords, and therefore herfather. But it hurt all thesame.“Absolutely not!” Captain

Akrydexclaimed.“Therecanbenoquestion.Themenshallnotaccept.”“The lords call for your

head,” Torvaal said, lookingonlyatSasha.“By theking'slaw,Icanpardonthesoldiersof a rebellion. But the lawdemands death for its leader.Iofferyoumercy.”“No deal!” said Akryd,

angrily. “You assume toomuch, Your Highness! Weare the victors in this fight,notyou!”“For how long?” Koenyg

retorted, standing grim-facednear his father's side, thick

armsfoldedacrosshismailedchest.“EveryLenayregionorprovincetoriseupagainsttheCherrovan always won itsinitial encounters. But oncethe Cherrovan brought theirfull weight of force to bear,theuprisingwascrushed.Thethronehasnotevenbegun tobring its full weight of forceto bear. We had hoped suchdrastic measures would notprovenecessary.”“Oh aye, your mercy and

forbearance are well knownthroughout Lenayin, PrinceKoenyg!” Akryd retortedsarcastically. Sasha held upherhandtosilencehim.“It's all right, Akryd,” she

saidquietly.“Iknewthatthiswouldhappen.Myfatherhasno choice. Maintaining abalance of power in Lenayinis difficult at the best oftimes. My presence here,havingledthisrebellion,nowthreatensthatbalance.”

“That's the point!” Akrydexclaimed,stridingtothesideof the table sohe could lookdown on her. “M'Lady, yourodefortheGoeren-yai!”“IrodeforLenayin,”Sasha

corrected solemnly, lookingupathim.The long-haired, plain-

facedTanerynmanshookhishead in frustration. “What'sthe difference? We had tochoose a leader, and it wasbetween you and Krayliss!

We chose you and now youwouldabandonus?”Sasha sighed, tiredly.

“Please, Akryd, just…justthink.This isn't aboutusandthem. It's aboutLenayin. Farmore than I stand for theGoeren-yai, I stand forLenayin. The nobles view aunitedGoeren-yai as a threatto everything they'veworkedfor.Theywillattackus.Theywill attack me, moreprecisely. I will need

protection.AlltheGoeren-yaiflock tomy defence, and thenext thingyouknow, that'sacivil war. The king has nopowerwithout the supportofthe lords. He must supportthem, or there is no king inLenayin.NokinginLenayin,and we're back to where wewere beneath the Cherrovanheel, a bloody rabble, and aunitedkingdomnolonger.”“You're…you're saying a

united Goeren-yai would be

bad for Lenayin?” Akrydlooked disbelieving. “Whatwereweridingfor, ifnot forthat?”“The Goeren-yai are not

united,” Sasha said firmly.“Lord Faras is right in that.The west and the south aremostly notwith us.They arestrangers to us. It's not therighttime,Akryd.Nowisnotthe moment to make such astand.”“When then?” Akryd

showednosignofretreat.Hiseyes were angry, and heshowed no qualm indisplaying such disunitybefore the watching eyes oftheVerenthane lords.OneofLord Krayliss's men, Sashareminded herself. Apassionate man, willing tofight, whatever the cost.Reckon that into any futureLenayin, should he or amanlike him become the newGreat Lord of Taneryn.

“When would be the righttime,ifnotnow?”Sasha returned her gaze to

her father. “Lenayinmarchesto war,” she said. “War in aforeign land, far from home.Our leaders feel we haveallies there. They feel weshall be amongst friends,fighting for the Larosa, andtheother,VerenthaneBacosh.Ifeelotherwise.Ibelievethatour leaders are fools tobelieveappealstoVerenthane

brotherhood, as if a commonfaith can patch over theprofound differences thatexist between peoples fromfar away lands. I believe ourBacosh friends will stabLenayin in the back at thefirstopportunity,andleaveusto bleed and die. Kingdomsare built in such ventures.Men from all over Lenayinwillmarchandserveside-by-side,astheyhaveneverdonebefore in all their long

history. I wonder if theleaders of Lenayin shallemergefromsuchacampaignwiththesamesenseofwhereLenayin's future lies as theyhold today.Many things canchangeontheroadtowar.”The many faces opposing

her were wary. EvenKoenyg'sgazeshowedanew,dawning respect, toaccompany the anger. She'dbeen thinking on it, on andoff, all the ride north. They

could send her away fromLenayin. But they could notstopwhatshehadstarted.“I'll not fight our serrin

friendsinanylowlandswar!”Akryd declared. “Should thecallcome,I'llrefuse!”“Noyouwon't,”Sashasaid

firmly. “Youwon't because Itell you you won't. Lenayinmust stand together, Akryd.Goeren-yai and Verenthane,and all the provinces as one.Youwillmarchwiththerest,

when the call comes.Someone has to keep an eyeon our brave and wiseleaders.Someonehastomakecertaintheydon'tsellLenayindown the river for a handfulof coppers and a holyblessing. That someone shallbeyou.”Understanding dawned on

Akryd'sface.Hestaredather.Thengazedat the lords.Anddrewhimselfup,slowly,witha disdainful stare. “Aye,

M'Lady,” he said coldly. “Iunderstand. We'll watchthem. Perhaps it's time, afterall, for theGoeren-yai of thesouth,eastandwesttoallgetto know each other better.Perhaps we can come to anunderstanding.”“You mangy bitch,”

Koenyg fumed beneath hisbreath.Sasha gave him a slow

smile.“Youworryaboutyourown hide, brother. You can

throwmeoutofLenayin,butI was heading that wayanyhow.Infact,Ithinkweallare.”

Fires burned before theUdalyn wall and the sweetnight air mingled withwoodsmoke and the smell ofcooking, laughter, ale andsong. Sasha sat beside oneparticular campfire, a cup of

wine in her hand, andwatchedthecelebrations.TheHadryn had left—takingartillery, tents and every lastsign of habitationwith them.Now, men of the columnrejoicedatthat,andthenewsthat they would be pardonedtheirdisobediencetothekingby the king himself, and thattheirfamilieswouldsuffernohardshipbytheiractions.The Udalyn had emerged

frombehindtheirwallforthe

first time in numbers, amidscenes of wild celebration.Goeren-yai had embracedand, Sasha was pleased tosee,her column'sVerenthanewarriors were also greetedwithenthusiasm.ManyoftheUdalynseemedastonished,infact, to see so manyVerenthanes in the column'sranks. The Udalyn's ChiefAskar was thrilled andhumbledtofindthatsomanyLenay Verenthanes would

shed their blood for theUdalyn. He did not hateVerenthanes, he said. OnlyHadryn.Sashawatchednowasmen

aboutneighbouringcampfiresate, sang, danced, orattempted brokenconversation with Udalynmen,oftenthroughachainofinterpreters who madeincreasingly less sense themorealestheydowned.Therewasmuchfascinationthatthe

Udalyn did not lookparticularly different fromotherGoeren-yai.Morebeadsand patterned clothes,perhaps, but otherwise theymight have been Tyree orValhananGoeren-yai to lookat.Therewasmoreblondhairand red hair, however, andmore blue eyes. Goeren-yaithey were, but the Udalynwerenorthernerstoo.Somewhere amidst the

crowd, Daryd and Rysha sat

byaseparatefire,surroundedby parents, siblings andextendedfamily,whopressedthem for telling after tellingof the things they'd seen—Baen-Tar, the SaintAmbellion Temple, Tyreeand Valhanan, King Torvaaland thebattlesofYmothandYumynis Plain. Sasha hadreceived the impression thatwere it not for her ownpresence,theYuvenarFamilymight not have believed the

tale.She'dbeenpulledtothatfireside by Aisha, who'dthought it something sheshould see—the Udalynchildren back with theirfamily, all of whom seemedto be accounted for. Ryshahadsatcurledinhermother'slap, and Daryd upon a stoneby the fireside. Sasha hadseen immediately that theirmotherwould as gladly haveclutched Daryd close for theentire night as she did to

Rysha, but there wassomething inDaryd'smannernowthatforbadeit.Themen,too, watched and listened tothe boy with a quiet,thoughtfulrespect.Upon seeing Sasha, Rysha

had leapedfromhermother'slapwithacryandruntoher.Sasha had picked her up,hugged her, then carried herback to the fireside, whereshe'd given Daryd a morerespectful kiss on the cheek.

The Udalyn boy had at leasthad the good grace to blush.Introductions had followed,to theastonishmentofall thefamily when they realisedwho she was. Aisha, Sashadiscovered with incredulity,wasnowpartlyfluentinEdu,fromhertimeridingwiththechildren, and these last fewdays in the valley. Barely aweek to learn a newlanguage. Even for serrin, ithardlyseemedpossible.

Aishahadshrugged.“Well,I know Cherrovan,” she'dexplained. “Did you knowthatCherrovanisactuallytheroot tongue for much of thenorthern Lenay tongues? Ifyou know Cherrovan, LenayandLisani,youcanworkouttherestprettyfast.”“You know Lisani too?”

Sasha had asked, aghast.Lisani was the mostprominent western tongue,namedas such for its origins

from the great Lisan EmpirebeyondthewesternMorovianMountains. The mountainswere nearly impassable, andcontact betweenLenayin andtheunfriendlyLisanwasrare.“Actually,” said Aisha,

“Lenay Lisani is verydifferent from the actualLisani of the Lisan Empire.Some serrin scholarsspeculate it actually camefromKazeri,fromKazeraktothe south. Others insist it is

entirelyindigenoustowesternLenayin.Ihavesomeideasofmy own, I'd love to travelthereinmorepeacefultimes.”“You speak Kazeri too?”

Sashahadsighed,resignedly.“Of course!” Aisha had

been scandalised. “How canonespeculateastotheoriginsof Lenay Lisani withoutknowingKazeri?”“How indeed.” Sasha had

founditalittledepressing,intruth, to be confronted by a

foreign peoplewho knew farmoreaboutLenayin than sheever would. Terel had toldher afterward that Aishaspoke seventeen languages,not including her nativeSaalsi dialects. Shewas nowintent on making thateighteen,inthedaystheyhadleftinthevalley.“That's inhuman,” Sasha

had made the mistake ofremarking.“Indeed,” Terel had

replied,withanamusedflashof bright red-brown eyes.And Sasha had realised thatshe'donlystatedtheobvious.She'd left Family Yuvenar

together at their fireplace,pleased that at least onefamily had found an entirelyhappyending.Andhaddaredto wonder if her own familycould ever dream of such afuture.Shewondered now, sitting

with Sofy and Errollyn by

their own little fireplace.Teriyan and Andreyis wereoffcarousingwith therestofthe Baerlyn gang. A part ofher wanted to be with them,but she knew it would bewrong. She was the leader.She could not favour onegroup of soldiers with herpresence without offendingtheothers.“Where's Aisha and

Terel?” she asked Errollyn,watching the surrounding

commotion. There was a lotof music, much of it poorlyplayed, but the dancing wasof a higher quality. UdalynandotherLenaymen,havingno other means ofcommunication, resorted tosongs, dances and friendlycontests of strength or knife-throwing.And,ofcourse,thatage-old contest of thick-headed men who ought toknowbetter—drinking.“Terel found an old lady

whocarveswoodenfiguresina traditional Udalyn style,”saidErrollyn.Thefirelightlithiseyestoabright,flickeringgreen that was like nothinghuman. He sat on an oldstump, elbows on knees,gazing at the firewith a cupinhishand.“Terel'samasterwith wood. I believe she'sgiving him a tour of hercottage,it'sjustnearby.Aishais no doubt off talking toevery Udalyn she can.

Workingonheraccent.”“I saw her,” Sofy said,

nodding.Thecupinherhandwashalfempty—thefirstcupofwineSofyhadtastedinherlife. She looked a littleunsteady, but Sasha was notabout to stop her sister's onenight of rebellion just yet.“She was attracting quite acrowd.Allverygentlemanly,I was pleased to see. Andplenty of Udalyn womenaround to make certain their

husbandsdidnotwander.”“Shedeservesadistraction

ortwo,”Errollynsaidquietly.“She misses Tassi. She doesnot relish the long ride backtoPetrodorwithouther.”Saalshen's trading interests

inPetrodorwerehuge,Sashaknew. Kessligh said thatSaalshen's wealth had builtPetrodorandturneditfromalittle fishing village to themost wealthy city in allRhodia. She did not pretend

to understand the complexweb of power andrelationships between thevarious competing familiesthat dominated the Petrodortrade, the trading interests ofSaalshen,themainlandfeudallords, thedocksidepoorwiththeir strong ties to the Nasi-Keth, and, of course, thehugely powerful Verenthanepriesthood. But she wasdetermined to learn as muchas she could from Errollyn

beforeshearrivedinPetrodorherself.Athree-weekjourneyto a foreign land where shehadnever travelledbefore.Apartofher lookedforward toit.And a part of her dreadedit, for fear that she wouldtrulynever seeherhomelandorherpeopleagain.“I'd love to see Petrodor,”

Sofysighed.“It'snotfairthatIhavetotravelallthewaytotheBacosh,butIwon'tgettoseeanythinginterestingalong

theway.”“Oh,untrue,”Errollynsaid

withasmile.“Ifyourcolumntakes the most direct routefrom Baen-Tar, you willtravelthroughVonnersenandsee the riverside capital ofLanos. The crown palacetherehassheerwallsthatriseahundredarmspansfromtheriverside, and towers thatloom well above even that.And I hear that Telesia is alovely place, where the

highlands fade into low, andthe land is rolling meadowswith a thousand kinds offlowerandahundredkindsofgrapevine.”“I don't think they'll travel

through Vonnersen,” Sashareplied. “When Sofy'sweddingpartygoes,it'llbeaspart of the marching Lenayarmy. Vonnersen won't wantthat army marching throughtheir lands. They've had badexperiences with Lenay

armies in the past. AndTelesia will want themcrossing furthest from theircitiestoo.”Errollyn shrugged. “Well,

southern Torovan is verypretty,” he offered. “Andyou'll travel throughnorthernBacosh,wheretherearesomefantasticcastlesandpalaces.”“Such a long way,” Sofy

saidquietly.Shesippedagainatherwine.“Still, it shallbespring. Ihaveawinteryet to

lastthrough.”“I'llbe there,Sofy,”Sasha

assured her. “Somehow, I'llbe there. You shan't bemarried without me, I swearit.”When Sofy looked at her,

her eyes seemed to shine inthe firelight. “You shouldn'tmake promises you don'tknow if you can keep,” shereplied. “I'll be fine. Myfathershallbe there tomarryme off. And some of my

brothers,atleast.”Sasha shook her head.

“Kessligh insists thatPetrodor is the key topreventing this conflict. I'mstill uncertain. I have afeelingthatI'llbefindingmyway across to the Bacosh atsome point. I think we allwill, whether we like it ornot.”Sofy smiled. Then

smotheredalaughbehindherhand. “Oh dear,” she half-

giggled. Sasha and Errollynexchanged glances. “I'msorry,” said Sofy, recoveringherself.“Itmustbe thewine.I just recalled that Alythia'swedding party should bearriving in Baen-Tar fromPetrodor just now. Only noone's there! How beastly ofme to find that funny. Thepoor girl, she must bedistraught.Howembarrassingforher.”“Another reason for her to

hate me,” said Sasha with ashrug.“I'msurethat'llsuitherwellenough.”“She'lllearn,”Sofysighed,

considering the contents ofhercup.“What?” Sasha pressed,

withaslysmile.“NohaughtydefenceofPrincessAlythia?”Sofy smiled. “It's not that.

It's just that…well, I wasfeelingsosorryformyselffora while as I was gardeninghere…youknow,wishingfor

the innocent little girl that Iwas,andwonderingifIcouldeverbeher again.But then Irealisedthatnoonecan.Thisvalley is different today. It'llneverbewhatitwas,andtheUdalyn will never be whattheywere—andforthebetter,Ihope.Anditoccurredtomethat not only is it inevitablethat people can't always gettheir own way, it's good.Usyndidn'tgethisownway.TheTyreelordsdidn't.Andif

they can't, then it should benosurprisethatIcan't,either.AndneitherwillAlythia.”“Nor I,” Sasha agreed

sadly.“Nor any of us,” said

Errollyn.Sasha gazed at him for a

longmoment.She couldnot,at this moment, be with herBaerlynfriends.Kesslighhadgone to Petrodor. The oldfoundations that had onceunderpinned her life had all

shifted, and now therewas anewpathbeforeher.Shehadserved Lenayin as best shecould in this one, desperateact. Now, she would followher uman to Petrodor. Shewas Nasi-Keth, and Petrodorwasastrongholdnotonlyforthem, but for the serrin aswell. She gazed at Errollyn,and wondered if this futureshe glimpsed was really sostrange and unpredictableafter all. The serrin had

always been an enormouspart of her life, throughKessligh, and the svaalverd,andthemanyteachingsoftheNasi-Keth. Kessligh thoughtshe had not given thoseteachings, and that heritage,the respect that it haddeserved.Perhapsnowitwastime to put old grievances tobed. Time, as the oldValhanansayingwent, toputtheshoeon the right foot forachange.

“So,Master Errollyn,” shesaid. “Ras'el malhrahntilosse?”Howdoyouseetheroad?Errollyn smiled. “Way'un

ei,”hesaid.Steep.No…morethansteep.Ei,theactivetenseof ei'lehn, the root word for“curl,” as a girl's hair mightcurl, or a dying leaf. Saalsiwords came often in twoparts, which came togetherand came apart tomake newmeanings, and hint at many

more.Steepandwinding,butwith a hint of beauty in thetreachery. “Leh bel'erainemahd'se fal svain'ah si.” Buttheviewhas suchbeauty.Orno…not beauty.Enlightenment? Svainerlaiwas an old form of“beautiful,” meaningsomething ancient andbeautiful,buttheahprobablycame from ahshti, a relatedword that meant, veryroughly, “to gain

enlightenment from beauty.”Andso…Sheshookherheadinfaint

amazement. The grammarwas appallingly vague, byhuman standards. But then,humans were empirical.Serrinmade imprecision intoan artform. Serrin words.Serrin thoughts. Serrinworlds. One door closed,anotheropened.“What are you saying?”

Sofy pressed with intrigue.

“Oh please, don't talk Saalsiwithout me! I need to knowwhatyou'resaying!”“You need to know what

everyone's saying,” Sashatold her. “The Princess ofGossip.It'sanaddiction.”“Something old and wise

and extremely dirty,”Errollyntoldtheyoungergirl.“Don't tease me,” Sofy

sniffed,withahaughtyangleto her slim jaw. “I'm veryfrighteningwhenI'mangry.”

“Finish your wine,” Sashatold her with a smile. “Thenight'sonlyyoungyet.Fathermay get you back, but hewon't get you back so pureandinnocentashe'dlike.”Sparksswirledandclimbed

into the night sky from thefire,minglingwiththesparksof many surroundingcampfires. Sasha watchedthemrise intooneof thefewconstellations bright enoughtobravethelightoftherising

moon. Hyathon the Warrior,withhisbelt,swordandhelm.TheheroofLenayin,clearinthe night sky above theValleyoftheUdalyn—brave,proudandfree.

JOEL SHEPHERD was born inAdelaide in 1974. He hasstudied Film and Television,International Relations, hasinterned on Capitol Hill inWashington, and traveledwidely in Asia. His firsttrilogy, the CassandraKresnov Series, consists of

Crossover, Breakaway, andKillswitch.