Sasha

'They killed him,' Sasha said darkly. 'Not by their own hands, but nearly.'

'I know,' said Kessligh. 'It changes nothing.'

'And who are you to be accusing me of partisan loyalties?' Sasha retorted. 'Saalshen is losing credit fast with Father, and doubtless the NasiKeth with them. And now you come on this ride claiming to act in Father's interests?'

'I have always been your father's servant,' Kessligh said flatly. 'I've fought in his service since I rode to Lenayin thirty years ago.'

'And should Father act against the Nasi-Keth?' Sasha persisted. 'What then?'

'Then,' said Kessligh, 'I shall cross that bridge when I come to it.'

Four

C ampfires lit small circles of light in the forest, a leaping dance of tree trunks and long, flickering shadows. Men gathered about their fires and cooked, while others tended to horses, or mended worn gear. There was cloud overhead, the wind was gentle from the south, and Sasha knew it would not grow so cold tonight. But she missed the stars, her one great consolation for nights upon the road.

'There is dispute over Lord Krayliss's ancestry,' Damon said as the regal party ate. Sasha wolfed her meal with her usual appetite-roasted meat on skewers, and a vegetable raal Kessligh had whipped up. Damon, however, seemed to pick at his food. 'I've heard it claimed that he's not actually Udalyn at all.'

To Sasha's surprise, he looked directly at her. As if she, above all others present, would be likely to know. Well, perhaps she would. 'His grandmother,' she managed about a hot mouthful, seated upon her saddle with a tin plate balanced in her lap. 'So it's said. But the maternal grandmother, not the paternal.'

Damon frowned. 'That's important?'

'In the old ways, power passes through the paternal line. A maternal grandmother is the weakest claim to ancestry. But then, some have accused Krayliss of overstatement.' To her left, Captain Tyrun repressed a humourless laugh. From across the fire, Jaryd frowned at her above the flames.

'How important is it?' Damon asked bluntly. 'To be Udalyn?'

'For Krayliss?' Sasha raised her eyebrows. 'Very. Spirits know he gains precious little credit among the Goeren-yai from anything else.'

'To claim ancestry to the chieftain of a dying clan who were once in league with the Cherrovan?' Damon looked dubious.

Sasha could not resist a glance around to see who else might overhear. But the neighbouring fireplace conversations were too distant, and too jovial, for that to be likely. 'People in these parts see it differently,' she said warningly.

Damon made a dismissive gesture. 'I'll never understand it,' he said darkly. 'This obsession with the Udalyn. They've barely emerged from their valley for a century, have been little good to anyone, yet Goeren-yai the length and breadth of Lenayin worship their name.' He took a reluctant bite of his meat.

Sasha glanced at Kessligh, seated to her right. He gazed into the flames as he ate. His eyes were unfocused, as if he saw the ghosts of past memories dancing amongst the coals. 'Best perhaps that you tell your brother that story,' he said then, distantly. 'We ride squarely into this matter, much unresolved. Best that he understands.'

Sasha nodded. 'I agree. But I think one here might tell it better than I.' She looked across to Captain Tyrun.

Tyrun looked surprised. 'Me, M'Lady? I'm Verenthane, I claim no great wisdom here.'

'Today at the talleryn stones of Spearman's Ridge,' Sasha said, 'you showed respect for the dead. You rode toward the sun, so as not to cast your shadow upon the roadside stones. And you gave the spirit sign.' Tyrun nodded slowly, with new respect in his eyes. 'The tolerance of Tyree Verenthanes is well known.'

'Aye, M'Lady,' said Tyrun, nodding slowly. 'I might know a little. Men of Tyree sit often and speak of honour and war. To speak of such matters with Goeren-yai anywhere is to speak of the Udalyn.'

Damon, Sasha thought, looked a little uncomfortable. Well that he should, she thought sourly. To display such ignorance was to admit that he had never sat and talked with Goeren-yai warriors before. So much for the high esteem of Family Lenayin for the ancient ways.

'Prior to the Liberation,' Tyrun began, 'there were two clans dominating the province that is now Hadryn. The Udalyn occupied the east, and the Hadryn the west. They were similar, yet different enough to provoke a hostility many centuries old. Intermarriage between the two was punished by the death of both parents and offspring. The bloodlines were kept pure. Northerners have always believed in purity-once as Goeren-yai, and now as Verenthanes.

'Understand, my Prince, that the north was once the bedrock of Goerenyai belief. Many of the great Lenay heroes of old were from the north, men of a steel forged in battles against the eternal Cherrovan foe, between rival clans, and with the harsh terrain and climate.

But the Cherrovan warlords were strong, often destroying entire Lenay villages. Tharyn Askar, the great Udalyn Chieftain, compromised with the Cherrovan in his lands, so that his people could grow healthy and strong, and not drained by constant minor uprisings and reprisals. He desired liberation from the Cherrovan also, but knew that the Udalyn had not yet the strength.

'He might not have had to compromise if the Hadryn hadn't remained more interested in waging war on the Udalyn than the Cherrovan,' Sasha added, sipping water from her tin cup. 'As men tell the story in Baerlyn, Tharyn tried to join with the Hadryn against the Cherrovan and sent his son as a symbol of trust to the Hadryn chieftain Essyn Telgar, who's reputed to have been just as thickheaded as the present line of Telgars. Essyn had him tortured and disembowelled alive. The Hadryn claim to have been key in uniting Lenayin during the Liberation, yet in truth, they prevented its arrival for generations.'

'Aye,' said Tyrun. 'They tell it much the same in Tyree. Anyhow, my Prince… there had been a prophecy for generations in the north. It was said that a great leader of Lenayin would ride from the south, bearing supernatural powers, and would smite the Cherrovan from the face of the world. When Soros Lenayin arrived at the head of his army of free Lenay clans and lowlands crusaders…' here he glanced at Kessligh, who snorted, 'the north joined his cause in force, forgot their petty disputes and rallied beneath the star of Verenthane.

'The Udalyn fought valiantly, yet Essyn Telgar was clever. He decreed that all the Hadryn should convert to Verenthaneism, as did most of the north, as they believed the Verenthane gods had fulfilled their prophecy and were just and true. But the Udalyn, having the deep roots of their homeland valley to sustain their traditions through even the hardest times, refused. Soros Lenayin rewarded Essyn Telgar with Lordship of all Hadryn, and asked that the Udalyn swear fealty to him. Tharyn refused, for his people would never have listened had he agreed.

'What followed was a slaughter.' Tyrun paused for a moment, gazing into the flames. About the blazing fire, none spoke. From a neighbouring fire, men's laughter carried high on the cool night air. 'The united Verenthanes of the north fell upon the Udalyn, for Essyn poisoned the minds of all the north against them, calling them traitors, friends of the Cherrovan and enemies of the new light of salvation. There were no prisoners taken, nor offered conversions accepted. There was only murder-of men, women and children. I am a proud Verenthane, my Prince. I believe that the star of Verenthane has been a blessing of unity and peace upon this land. But truly, the fate of the Udalyn, I believe, was surely Verenthane's darkest hour.'

Damon met the captain's sombre gaze across the fire. Sasha could read his expression well enough to see that he had not heard this history told with such confidence by a Verenthane man. Most Verenthanes denied the accusations of Hadryn atrocities against the Udalyn, and many blamed the Udalyn for bringing their decline upon themselves.

'Finally, all that was left of the Udalyn was their ancestral valley,' Tyrun continued. 'Here, versions of the story differ. Some say that King Soros inter vened and gave the Udalyn one last chance to convert, or face annihilation. Others say that he did nothing. Yet others defend King Soros, saying that his army was weary and he had not yet been crowned king, so he had no means with which to stop the slaughter. But whatever the truth, the Udalyn did not convert, and the united Verenthane north pressed the attack into the valley.