She awoke with a start, lying on the hard boards, and stared at the light that danced across the stone ceiling. The dream had been of Krystoff. She'd fallen off her pony. He'd been laughing at her. She'd tried to climb back on, but the pony had somehow become Peg and was far too tall for her little legs to reach the stirrup. Krystoff had galloped off, and somehow she'd managed to get up and gallop after him. And had found herself in a broad, wide valley with steep sides, cultivated lands and a wide, beautiful river that gleamed beneath the light of a full, silver moon.
From further up the hall, there came a scuffing, echoing noise. Then a clank of keys and muttering voices. Sasha sat up quickly, feet to the floor. The keys rattled some more, then the squeal of the gate opening. Several pairs of feet approached. She had no idea what time of night it was, or even if it was still night. But there would only be more than one guard if she were being moved from her cell.
Three men appeared, and none of them looked like guards. The leader held a flickering lamp which failed to illuminate his face beneath the shadowing hood. He handed the lamp to his companion and fumbled with a ring of keys, as his two companions took wary stances on either side. They appeared to be armed beneath their cloaks, and looked to be expecting trouble.
Sasha got to her feet in alarm, feeling naked without her weapons. A vigilante group come to murder her? Northerners seeking revenge? But how would they get through the guards without her having heard the sounds of battle?
“Who are you?” she asked, thinking furiously.
The leader, to her further surprise, appeared to be struggling to find the right key. He tried one, then another, muttering to himself when they did not fit. As his head bowed, some long hair spilled from within the hood. Not a northerner, then. “Patience, Princess, patience,” he said, evidently through gritted teeth. The voice seemed familiar.
Finally, a key fit, and turned with a squeal of rusted mechanism. He took the lamp back from his companion, pushed the prison gate inward and threw back his hood. Long, partly braided red hair fell clear in the light, and familiar, roughened features…and Sasha blinked.
“Teriyan?” she exclaimed. Her old friend grinned, appearing to find her astonishment amusing. “What the hells are you up to?”
“Insurrection,” he said shortly, and stood aside. “Come, let's go.” Sasha stood frozen where she was. “Come on!” Teriyan said impatiently. “I'll explain on the way, there's no time to waste gawking.”
Sasha went, having little other choice, and Teriyan placed a hand on her back and ushered her up the hall. The other two men followed. “What's going on?” Sasha demanded, keeping her voice low as they passed empty cell after cold, empty cell.
“Goeren-yai in these parts are having a little disagreement with your father,” Teriyan said, in a similarly low voice. “It's all organised, nothing for you to worry about.”
Somehow, Sasha did not find that reassuring in the slightest. “What kind of disagreement?” she retorted. “Organised by whom?” They climbed several steps and stepped through the open metal gate. Teriyan paused to lock it again behind them. The lamp threw wavering light up the length of the dank, gloomy hallway ahead, and revealed it deserted.
“A few friends,” Teriyan said vaguely.
“How did you get past the guards?” Sasha demanded, growing angry at the lack of information. She rounded to face him as they strode, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her onward. “What are you up to?”
“Don't the serrin say patience is a virtue?” Teriyan retorted. “Why don't you show a little and shut up for a moment?”
“Great,” Sasha exclaimed beneath her breath. “The next time you say that you'll explain on the way, don't wonder why I won't believe you.”
They climbed a longer flight of stone steps and emerged into a guardroom holding another six cloaked figures. Seated on the floor in one corner, tied and gagged, were four prison guards. Not very many, it occurred to her. One of the cloaked figures approached to hand her her weapons.
“Andreyis?” she recognised, as there was more light to penetrate the shadows here. The young man looked extremely apprehensive. Sasha took her blade, secure in its scabbard, and shrugged off her cloak to begin fastening it to the bandoleer at her back. “What's going on?”
Andreyis looked to Teriyan and back in confusion. “He didn't tell you?”
“No damn time, I tell you,” Teriyan growled. He, and all the men, seemed to be expecting discovery at any moment. “She'll just want to argue, let's move fast and argue later.”
“I'll stand here and argue about what you're not telling me!” Sasha exclaimed, finishing with her scabbard and bending to strap the knife to her ankle. “I'm not going anywhere until I know what kind of hare-brained scheme you've gone and hatched without my…”
“There,” Teriyan said to Andreyis in exasperation, “I told you, didn't I?”
“We're riding to the Udalyn!” Andreyis said breathlessly. “We're riding to save them from the Hadryn!”
Sasha stared at him, aghast. “Just like that?”
“No, not just like that!” Teriyan said sharply. “You think we're stupid? It's been planned, girl! The only thing we didn't count on was you being stupid enough to get caught in Koenyg's damn charge…”
“Planned? What's been planned? How many men?”
“Lots,” Teriyan said grimly.
Sasha stared, her head spinning. How could this have happened without her knowledge? How could Teriyan be involved? He was a leather worker and town senior in Baerlyn, what in the world would he have to do with some Goeren-yai plot to rescue the Udalyn?
She looked at Andreyis. He nodded, anxiously. “Lots of men, Sasha,” he confirmed. “The Falcon Guard, for starters. They said if we got Master Jaryd out, they'd come.”
There was a flickering light emerging from another passageway, and then three men appeared, two Goeren-yai flanking a limping wreck that had once been a handsome lordling. Jaryd had no sling for his arm, the left forearm bound only with dirty bandages enfolding a pair of short splints. His torn pants revealed bloody bandages about his left thigh. His face was mottled with bruising, one eye entirely closed, his lips swollen and covered with dried blood and grime. His hair was a mess and there was a bloody sword in his hand.
Teriyan stared at the sword, then at Jaryd's two rescuers. “What the hells happened?” he said sharply.
The rescuers looked uncomfortable. “There were two Tyree lordlings posted guard. We overpowered them. We…he asked for a sword, we didn't think he'd just…”
“Oh great,” Teriyan said in exasperation. “So what was a great and righteous rescue is now the murder of innocent Tyree lordlings! That'll help. Both of them?”
“Just one,” Jaryd rasped. Sasha did not recognise the voice. His good eye was cold, emotionless. “Mykel Mellat. I told him I'd kill him. He didn't believe me. He thought it was funny. Isn't laughing now, is he?”
“Now look, Master Verenthane,” Teriyan growled, “I only agreed to drag you out of this place because your guardsmen demanded it and we need ’em. You're going to put that damn sword away and shut your damn mouth, 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 own blade. “What are you going to do, hop after me?”
Sasha stepped between them. “Jaryd.” Staring past the point of his blade. “I'm sorry about Tarryn. I lost a brother too. I know what it's like.”
“Your brother was a prince, in armour, on a horse, with a blade in his hand. Mine was a little boy with a knife.” There was emotion in his good eye now, and his speech, past swollen lips, was thick with fury. “I'm not going on your damn crusade. I've men to kill.”
“In that condition.”
“Aye,” Jaryd muttered, lowering the blade. “In this condition.”
“You're Commander of the Falcon Guard,” Sasha said harshly. “They've asked for you to lead them. Had they not, you would not be free.”
“I resign.”
“Then you have no honour.”
Jaryd's good eye blazed. “They murdered my little brother! Men I called my friends! Men I grew up with, who professed their loyalty and friendship to my face! And you accuse me of dishonour?”
“To meet dishonour with dishonour is to wash down a meal of corruption with a mouthful of ashes.” The Goeren-yai men present had heard that line before. Jaryd, Sasha suspected, had not. “That's a quote from Tullamayne, the greatest Goeren-yai storyteller.”
“I know who Tullamayne is.” Sullenly.
“He was Udalyn,” Sasha continued, forcefully. “We ride to save the Udalyn, before they are wiped out entirely. Imagine thousands of tragedies, Jaryd, each as great as you losing Tarryn. Many thousands. Your men asked for you, men who are vastly more experienced and who could probably manage very well without you. Didn't they?”
She looked askance at Teriyan. Teriyan nodded. “They say that with your father dead,” he said, “you're the Great Lord of Tyree. They won't accept whoever the lords appoint, not after what they did. They won't be a party to that dishonour. That's what they said, even the Verenthanes.”
Jaryd stared at the flagstones. Dirty hair fell about his brow, his battered face shadowed in the flickering lamplight. “If it's revenge you want,” Sasha continued, “think about how many more of them you could kill if you waited until you were healthy. With patience, your revenge could be greater.”
“You think you'll survive this?” Jaryd said bitterly. “Who'll join you? The Goeren-yai have never united for anything. You'll be smashed, and me with you. Better that I kill who I can now, before they realise I've escaped.”
“And alert them to that fact before we're away?” Teriyan retorted. “I'll put you back in your cell first.”
Jaryd stared at the flagstones for a moment. Then he snorted, with no real emotion. “Fine. Have it your way.”
“Sword away,” Teriyan commanded. “Hood up, keep your head down, and not a sound.” Jaryd did so, without concern. Little seemed to bother him, not death, nor slaughter. Sasha feared for him.
They were walking from the dungeons when Sasha realised that somehow, she'd begun arguing for precisely the thing she had been arguing against. Lead an army to the Udalyn Valley? Her? In defiance of her father, to say nothing of Koenyg? But then…her mind began to accelerate, like a lazy horse building to a canter. What forces would Koenyg have if the Falcon Guard and some of the Black Hammers had left? Nearly half of the Hammers were Goeren-yai…and half the Royal Guard, also. Would some of the Royal Guard come? Would many of their Verenthane comrades? Was it even imaginable that she, the hot-tempered, troublemaking little girl in Krystoff's shadow, would for a time at least be commanding a greater army than the king or Koenyg would have available? From dreaming in her prison cell to this. It was overwhelming.
“Why in all the hells didn't anyone tell me?” she fumed in sudden temper, as she struggled to grasp this new reality. The dank passage from the guardhouse gave way to stairs, long and winding. She took them slowly, lest Jaryd be left behind. “What am I, just a piece to be moved upon some lowlands board game?”
“You,” Teriyan said firmly, and with the edge of a man about to lose patience, “were our last hope of not having to do this. Do you think for a moment that any man here would willingly ride against the king's orders? We hoped you could persuade him. You needed to be convinced it was the only option for that to have any chance of working. We're all sorry if you feel deceived, but damn it, girl, it was the only way! Now, do you want to save the Udalyn or not?”
Sasha stared at him. Familiar features, a face from her childhood, since the age of eight, anyhow. A man she'd grown up with. He did not belong here, in this world. Certainly Andreyis did not. They were from her other world, with Kessligh, out in the Lenay wilds. Or perhaps, it occurred to her, it was she who didn't belong here. Confusion threatened.
Could she turn her back on them now? Tell them it was foolish? That she would not lead a Goeren-yai army in what could certainly become the opening battle of a civil war? If she did nothing, and the Udalyn were destroyed, there would be civil war regardless…only worse. Fighting to save a people from annihilation was an achievable goal, with a near term end in sight. Fighting to avenge an annihilated people was not so much a goal as a state of mind, and could drag on for centuries. She could not allow it. Sometimes, Kessligh had told her more than once, you just have to act. If you wish for your every action to be entirely reasonable and thought out, you shall wish in vain. When action is required, act. Inaction, in such a situation, is always the wrong answer.
“You and I,” she said, with a firm jab at Teriyan's chest as they climbed, “are going to have to improve our communication.”
Even above ground the old castle was dark, dank and full of shadows. Bare stone passed silently underfoot—it was difficult to believe that such a desolate, soulless place had ever been a seat of power in Lenayin.
They passed through an abandoned guardhouse and out into the yard beyond. Carts were lined beneath what had once been a primitive stable, and men were hauling crates of produce from their trays. Above, the old inner walls loomed barely half as high as the grand outer walls, the stonework worn and weathered in places.
The Goeren-yai men walked calmly across the courtyard, soldiers with their hoods down, several hauling full wineskins in prominent view to prevent suspicion—it was well known that officers would send their men on unofficial “requisitional visits” to the castle storage rooms. Men loading carts, hauling crates or tending horses paid this new procession little heed as they headed toward the side exit that had been cut in the old stone for more direct access to the barracks and stables. Sasha walked with her hood up, and no great alarm in that, for the night was cold. Behind, she could hear Jaryd's occasional grunt of pain, but he made reasonable pace despite the limp. Two guards on the small exit waved them through with great nonchalance, and Sasha was not surprised to see both were Goeren-yai.
The street beyond was narrow and appeared empty save for a startled stray cat. Beyond the old inner walls, she could hear the echoing rumble of drums and the shouting of voices. Sasha threw a questioning glance up at Teriyan.
“Soros Square,” he said grimly. “Lord Krayliss dies a glorious death.”
Sasha recalled the execution stand…she'd snuck away, once, to see what her minders had insisted no little girl had any business seeing. For once, they'd been right.
“Nothing glorious in that death,” she said quietly. “In battle, at least you have the mercy of being surprised. Isn't it a little late for an execution?” It was after midnight, she'd gathered.
“It took the carpenters this long to erect the platform,” Teriyan replied, peering into the gloom as he strode, a hand on the hilt of his blade beneath the cloak. “No matter, it creates a diversion for us, in that, his death proves far more useful for the Goeren-yai than his life.”
It sounded a particularly callous thing to say, even for Teriyan. “You set him up for this,” Sasha said bluntly.
Teriyan grunted. “He set himself up. We needed him out of the way, and we needed a diversion…” he shrugged. “He gets his martyrdom, we get a blind space in which to organise, and most of brother Koenyg's loyal guards are busy expecting trouble at the execution. As if we'll all rise up in protest over that fool getting the axe. Koenyg sees everything, but understands nothing. We're heading north.”
Organise? The Goeren-yai? Sasha stared up at his rangy height, her suspicion mounting. Teriyan had been most insistent in accompanying her on this trip. Teriyan, who had many friends and contacts amongst Goeren-yai all over Lenayin. Any Baerlyn man could have accompanied her, but Teriyan had insisted it should be him. “How long have you been plotting?” she asked, her jaw tight.
Teriyan threw her a serious look. “Look, Sasha…you didn't think the concerned folk across Lenayin wouldn't have someone keeping an eye on you all these years? Why do you think you haven't had crowds of the curious and the worshipful come clustering about the ranch or the Steltsyn all days? They needed word on what you were up to. I gave it. Nothing more.”
But it had gained him status, evidently. “Kessligh knew about this?” she asked tightly.
Teriyan shrugged. “A little. Never seemed real interested, truthfully. Certainly he appreciated anything keeping the crowds away.” Sasha felt her head spin as several new pieces fell into place. Kessligh's displeasure with her occasional long nights in the Steltsyn. Teriyan, on one occasion, sheltering her from the overly nosy questions of one particular out-of-towner. He'd had his curiosity answered later, it seemed.
“You didn't tell me,” she muttered.
“Sasha…”
“Damn it, I'd have understood! I'm not stupid, I knew that you and the others deflected some attention from me…but you were using me, weren't you? Planning a bloody uprising, just like Koenyg suspected…”
“Oh aye, and how safe would that have been, to tell you everything?” Teriyan retorted. “Your brother Koenyg sending his damn spies through the Steltsyn every few weeks…we learned to spot them, you know, even if you never did. Those merchants, traders, wandering minstrels, even some of the damn pilgrimage priests, all fishing for stories about you.”
“They weren't all working for Koenyg,” Sasha said disbelievingly. She felt suddenly uncomfortable. Could they have been? “Travellers gossip, it's not like every traveller who asks questions is pocketing Koenyg's gold.”
“And that's been the difference between the two of us for the last twelve years,” Teriyan said firmly. “You could afford to think that, up on your hill with your legendary warrior to watch over you. The rest of us learned to be suspicious. There's a whole stack of rumours and stories about you moving about the towns at any given time, Sasha. You don't think Koenyg wasn't listening to all of them? You don't think that at the first suspicion you were going to be a threat to the lords, by giving the Goeren-yai someone to rally around, he wouldn't have come down on Baerlyn like an avalanche?”
“He'd never have dared,” Sasha retorted, eyeing a shadowy figure moving on the dark road ahead. “Any move against me or Kessligh would have achieved exactly what he didn't want—angry mobs of Goeren-yai looking for blood.”
“Aye, well maybe you could take that risk. Me, I've got family in Baerlyn, and I'm responsible for all the other families too.” He too watched the dark figure ahead. It vanished down an alley. “The lords thought you more of a risk than Koenyg did, they were twisting his arm all the time…shit, you saw what Kumaryn tried. They know that if the Goeren-yai ever got worked up, the lords’ heads would be the first on the block—most Goeren-yai respect the king, but we've got no time for lords.
“So we kept feeding them all this nonsense about Krayliss, and how he was so popular. I did it myself a few times, just made up some pile of manure about the brave deeds of Lord Krayliss to tell some traveller when he was near facedown in his ale. He spreads it to the next town, and people talk, and the next thing you know, Prince Koenyg's hearing talk of great, heroic stories about Lord Krayliss spreading through Valhanan. Better yet, Lord Krayliss hears them too, and like any fool who thinks the stars circle his arse, he believes the people love him. Soon enough, he believes it so much he picks a fight with Hadryn, kills Great Lord Rashyd, and threatens the king with Goeren-yai rebellion. So while all the nobility's got their frilly lace knickers in a twist over Krayliss, they ignore you completely…or almost. Worked a treat, huh?”
Sasha stared at him incredulously. “They ignore me? You…you make it sound as if…as if I'm some kind of…I don't know…”
“Goeren-yai hero?” Teriyan peered down the dark alley into which the figure had entered. Within, there were only shadows. He shrugged. “Maybe. All I knew was better you than Krayliss. Some of us saw this day coming, Sasha. A day when we'd need someone the Goeren-yai could look up to. Prince Koenyg never really believed it could be you, not truly…Goeren-yai never had women leaders before, it seemed a stretch. And who knows, he might yet be right. We'll see.”
“I'm not a damn leader!” Sasha hissed at him. “I'm not some piece on your board game to be moved about at your leisure…”
“Kessligh didn't teach you nothing, did he?” Teriyan gave her a contemptuous stare. “We're all just pieces on some damn board game, girl. Either you play, or you get played. You choose. You're my friend, and I'm sorry you feel betrayed. But my first loyalty is to my people. I was hoping that'd be your first loyalty too.”
“M'Lady,” said another man moving up on her side as they rounded a tight bend between stone walls. From a high window, a baby squalled. “I have some men moving to recover the Udalyn children. The Princess Sofy assisted us in finding them in the palace. Should we bring them?”
Sasha looked up at him—way up, for this man was even taller than Teriyan. Goeren-yai, despite lacking the spirit-mask, like Teriyan. And recently familiar, somehow…her eyes widened, recalling the Royal Guard lieutenant who had let her into the Saint Ambellion Temple with Daryd.
“Is it a good idea to bring children?” she asked warily. “Surely they'll be safe enough here?”
“There's no telling that,” Teriyan said darkly. They were approaching the Soros Library now, its archways looming on the left above dark, clustered rooftops. “They're proof of bad things happening in the valley, someone might decide them more conveniently disposed of. Besides, we may have use of someone who knows Udalyn lands from the inside—the boy may not speak Lenay, but he can draw maps. In an assault, that could save lives.”
“They are Udalyn children, M'Lady,” the lieutenant added. “The hardship shall not trouble them.”
Sasha did not like the idea of taking children on such a ride. This, she realised, was one of those command decisions that she had always wondered if she would have the strength to make for herself. Many more would surely follow. She was no longer poised upon the point of no return. That point was now behind her. The realisation made her dizzy, with fear, excitement and a dozen other things that she had no name for.
“See to the children,” she told the lieutenant. “Perhaps try to find the pony they arrived on, it shall make the journey easier for them.”
“Aye, M'Lady,” said the lieutenant, and made straight for the side road past the library, vanishing quickly in the night.
“His name's Alyn, Koenyg tossed him from the guard,” Teriyan said in a low voice. “Koenyg's done that quite a bit lately. Gained us a whole bag of recruits, he has.”
Cut from the Royal Guard for letting someone into the temple to visit the king. The disgrace would lie heavily on the man's shoulders, Sasha knew, whatever the circumstances. A man so desperate to reclaim his honour might do crazy, reckless things. And she wondered how many more people would lose far more than just their honour because of decisions she would make now, or tomorrow, or in the days after that.