archer fire.'
Usyn stared at the doors, now clearly weakening beneath the catapults' combined assault. He had not considered Heryd's concerns. It angered him. 'Why did you not say so earlier?' he said harshly.
'My apologies, my Lord,' said Heryd. 'I was sleeping. The terrain was difficult, I lost a hundred plus men.'
'We are thousands!' Usyn said angrily. 'Our friends from Banneryd are riding to assist us in Taneryn, once here they can relieve our forces from Ymoth instead, and then we shall be more. This battle must be won before the southern pagans realise what is happening! I cannot tolerate further delays!'
'Aye, M'Lord,' Heryd agreed. He pointed to a spot further along the wall. °I suggest we divert half the catapults and begin a new point of entry. The stone wall shall take longer, but to guarantee a successful assault, I would like another entry point at least, perhaps two.'
Usyn considered, broodingly. Udys Varan continued to speak ill words of him with the captains and nobles, he was certain of it. The Hadryn Shields were sworn by oath to family Telgar, but their captain was a cousin to the Varans. The bulk of the army were militia, and no less capable for that, as in most of Lenayin… but their allegiances were divided amongst the noble families and their respective towns and regions. He had cousins and uncles amongst those serving, yet they afforded him little comfort. Some spoke angry words of Udys Varan and implied the new Lord of Hadryn weak in not dealing with him more sternly. But the soldiers respected the seasoned Udys, clearly more than the untested heir of Telgar. Usyn felt trapped, and increasingly resentful.
'Deploy the catapults as you see fit,' he said finally. 'Should we not also breach the wall on the west of the river?'
'No, M'Lord,' said Heryd. 'That would force us to divide our forces to either bank, and the pagans have destroyed the last bridge. The Udalyn have no point of exit on that side, let's keep them bottled up and not expose ourselves to a flanking assault.'
'As you will,' said Usyn, shortly. Heryd sipped at his tea, unruffled by his lord's tempers. Usyn regarded him for a moment. Yuan Heryd Ansyn. Family Ansyn had long been allies of the Telgars. Usyn's mother had been an Ansyn, the sister of Heryd's father. Some suggested Heryd's daughter for a match with Usyn. Usyn disliked the notion-the girl was pallid and spotty. But he wondered what her father thought. 'Some of the men say that I am too young to command this effort,' he said now.
Heryd swallowed his tea and shrugged. 'None can choose the time of their father's passing,' he said. 'Family Telgar have ruled Hadryn since the Liberation. The turn was always yours, my Lord.'
'Our ascension was challenged by some,' Usyn said darkly. 'Many Varans feel the great lordship was rightfully theirs and that King Soros made a mistake to grant it to us.'
'Not I, my Lord,' said Heryd, fixing him with a pale blue gaze. A big man, with blond hair beneath his helm and a heavy, honest face. 'Family Ansyn has been an ally to Family Telgar since before the Liberation, and always shall be.'
'And Family Varan?' Usyn asked bluntly.
'Family Telgar won the great lordship through valour in battle,' Heryd replied. 'Your ancestors slew many of the Cherrovan, and then many more of the traitorous pagans in the cleansing to follow. Clearly your blood was chosen by the gods to rule. None in Hadryn dispute it. Prove yourself now, my Lord, and remind them of that choice. The gods' will cannot so easily be undone.'
Another catapult shot clattered and whistled. Heryd finished his tea, bowed and departed. Usyn watched him go, his fingers clenched tightly about his cup. Victory in battle, the cornerstone of all honour. He'd show that fool Varan. He'd show him the true meaning of victory.
A new presence arrived at his left elbow and he turned to find Father Celys in black robes with his staff in hand.
'My Lord,' said Celys with a bow, a bald man with a thin grey beard. 'My Lord, I wondered if I could have a word?'
'Of course, Father,' said Usyn, turning to face him with as much lordly dignity as he could muster. He liked this part-the part where men he had known his whole life, and who had never shown him the respect he deserved, now suddenly had to bow before him and lower their eyes. 'How can I help you?'
'Well, my Lord… there is the matter of the pagans' bodies. It is the custom of the order that even an enemy should receive a proper burial…'
'These are not merely enemies, Father,' Usyn said coldly. 'These are pagans. They spit on the rightful gods, as their ancestors spat on them during the Liberation and assisted their enemies. Their souls now descend to the fires of Loth to burn for eternity, and I say good riddance. Burn the bodies. And do it before the walls, so the rest of them can see.'
Father Celys took a deep breath and swallowed hard. 'Aye, M'Lord.' Usyn regarded him disdainfully. His father had suspected Father Celys of defective moral character for a long time. The Bishop of Hadryn had always been more interested in converting pagans than killing them. 'However, if it pleases my Lord, I would request permission to entreaty the pagans behind the wall to save their souls by conversion.'
Usyn snorted. 'That is your right, Father-souls are a bishop's prerogative just as lives are a lord's.'
'And should they agree, M'Lord… would you consider a surrender?'
Usyn glared at him, lips pressed thin. His temper boiled. 'We hold the Hadryn's most ancient enemies by the throat and you would beg for mercy on their behalf?'
Father Celys ducked his head. 'No, M'Lord. But… but one would like to make contingencies, for future plans. When the walls are breached, M'Lord, there will be many more bodies to dispose of, and their souls too will be in question…'
'Burn them,' Usyn said coldly. 'Burn them all.'
'Aye, M'Lord. And the prisoners, M'Lord? What of them?'
Usyn raised a thin eyebrow. 'Prisoners?'
'The women and children, M'Lord.' Looking up at Usyn hopefully, from beneath lowered brows. 'When the holy armies reached Torovan from the Bacosh five centuries ago, they did report a great success at persuasive con versions with the women, without their menfolk there to protect them. The pagan womenfolk are good workers, we could…'
'There shall be no prisoners, Father Celys,' said Usyn Telgar, Lord of Hadryn. 'This valley is lacking in firewood, I would guess. Best that you make plans to collect some.'
Twelve
S asha woke early the next morning, and did her exercises on the floor of Sofy's chambers while her sister slept on, peaceful in the wash of morning sunlight through the windows. The taka-clans woke her, however.
'I'd never thought something so deadly could look so beautiful,' Sofy said from her pillows as Sasha lowered her blade. Sofy gazed with amazement. Sasha performed the last third of the defensive elia-dan, the silver blade flashing in the sunlight, finding the perfect form of foot, wrist and shoulder. Then sheathed the sword over her shoulder in one, smooth motion.
'Da'el she'hiel alas themashel,' Sasha told her.
'Is that Saalsi?' Sofy asked, enchanted. 'What does it mean?'
'Literally, 'the beauty of danger'… only that doesn't translate well, does it? Most Saalsi doesn't. It basically means that all dangerous things are beautiful. But serrin words rarely state things so directly.'
'Oh, I'd love to learn Saalsi,' Sofy sighed, rubbing her eyes. She yawned. 'Are you going for a run?'
'Always,' said Sasha, stretching her thighs. 'Want to come?'
'You're crazy!' Sofy laughed. 'What would people think?'
'I don't know. What would people think?'
'A princess of Lenayin does not run,' Sofy said primly. And yawned again. 'Especially not so early.'
'Thank the spirits for that, then,' Sasha said cheerfully. 'I'd hate to be mistaken for something I'm not.'
She collected Teriyan and Andreyis from their chambers in the southern guest quarters and walked with them along the grand halls, alongside balconies overlooking the southern courtyards and gardens. Groundsmen trimmed
