Sasha

'M'Lady Sashandra!' Jaryd exclaimed cheerfully as Sasha entered. 'Have you met my little brother Tarryn?'

'I have not had the honour,' said Sasha. The boy twisted about to stare at her. 'Master Tarryn, I'm very pleased to meet you. I hope you're better at staying on your horse than your brother.'

Jaryd laughed.

'He was knocked off!' Tarryn said indignantly. 'Pyter Pelyn did it, he never plays fair. I was just telling Jaryd, Pyter Pelyn's son Garret cheats at four-sticks! He's in some of my classes here, I never liked him.'

'I'm not surprised,' said Sasha and bounced onto the end of Jaryd's bed. Tarryn stared at that most unladylike act. 'How's the arm?' she asked Jaryd, kneeling.

'It's not so bad,' said Jaryd. His face was pale and his brown hair hung lank and unwashed, but the confidence in his tone made Sasha believe it. 'The healer says it's just a small break of the forearm, he didn't need to use the knife. He bound it and put in splints for support, but it should heal clean in less than a month. The elbow and shoulder are all swollen, but that should heal too, he said.'

'That's wonderful!' Sasha exclaimed with feeling. 'The way you came off, I was certain you'd smashed something good!'

'He says it doesn't hurt,' Tarryn said eagerly, with a mischievous smile. 'He always says it doesn't hurt. He fell down some stairs once and split his head open, there was blood everywhere. Our house healer had to clean the wound with boiled wine, and Jaryd said that didn't hurt either.'

'Nothing hurts after you faint,' Sasha said wryly. There was a wine pitcher on the bedside table and a bowl of something that smelled strongly of crushed herbs. Sasha knew well that even with such remedies, Jaryd's arm would hurt like hell. But few Lenay men would show pain in a woman's vicinity… and even less so to a younger brother.

'I never did,' Jaryd said mildly. 'This is my third break, I've never yet fainted.'

'You're pretty,' said Tarryn.

Sasha blinked at him in surprise. And grinned. 'Thank you very much!'

'Fenyl Harys said you were really ugly,' Tarryn continued. 'He said you were an ogre, and that you had a moustache and warts.'

'I shaved off the moustache just this morning,' Sasha admitted.

'You did not!' Tarryn laughed. 'Are you really as good a fighter as Kessligh Cronenverdt?'

'Who said I was?'

'Jaryd,' said Tarryn. 'He said you were the best fighter he'd ever seen.' Sasha raised an eyebrow at Jaryd, who shrugged.

'But Jaryd's never seen Kessligh fight,' Sasha told Tarryn. 'Not really. Kessligh's better than me, but I'm close.' Close… well, that was maybe stretching things a bit, but she wasn't about to throw away her good reputation entirely.

Sasha sat on the bed and talked with Jaryd and Tarryn for a while. Jaryd seemed pleased of the company and Sasha wondered if he'd had any other visitors, besides his guardsmen. Tarryn and the Great Lord of Nyvar were the only members of Jaryd's immediate family presently in Baen-Tar, Sasha had gathered, but for Rathynal there were cousins, uncles, aunts, nieces and family allies aplenty. Tyree was a prominent province and Jaryd was possibly just a few months from the great lordship. There should have been a queue of well-wishers, friends and assorted sycophants crowding about the bed. Instead, the broad flagstone floor remained sparse and empty.

The hour-bell rang to ten from the courtyard and Jaryd firmly informed Tarryn that he'd best attend to his studies. 'I wish our sisters were more like you,' Tarryn told Sasha as he reluctantly got up to leave. 'You're fun. They're never fun.'

'I'm sure your sisters are wonderful,' Sasha said diplomatically, but crawled on the bed to give him a big kiss on the cheek anyway. Tarryn squirmed, and grinned, and ran off to his lessons with a wave. 'He's a darling!' Sasha exclaimed once he'd left.

'Ladies have been known to think so of all the men in my family,' Jaryd said mildly.

Sasha grinned and leaped across to sit beside him propped on the remaining pillows. 'Even with your arm in a sling, you'll still have a try, will you?'

'A true man of Tyree never rests.'

'Someone would catch us,' she suggested.

'Not if we were fast.'

'Are you always?'

Jaryd grinned. 'Not always, M'Lady.'

Sasha laughed. 'I'm not 'M'Lady', I'm Sasha.'

'Sasha,' said Jaryd, thoughtfully.

'Were you not offered chambers in the palace?' Sasha asked. 'It's customary even for soldiers to take adjoining chambers at the palace when their families visit. For important nobility, anyhow.'

'My place is with my men,' Jaryd said flatly.

'I doubt your father would agree,' Sasha ventured.

Jaryd snorted. 'My father doubts I can make an adequate Great Lord of Tyree. He gave me command of the Falcon Guard so that I might learn better. Well, I'm certainly learning. I'm learning a great many things.'

'Such as?'

'Who my friends are,' Jaryd said angrily. 'There are men my own age, whom I grew up with and learned to spar and ride with, all here for Rathynal and yet they've barely even said hello. They have no honour, any of them.'

Sasha took a deep breath. 'Jaryd… I admire your conviction, but

… isn't it a little foolhardy to be picking a fight with your own father? And with all the assorted nobility of Tyree? You're going to rule these people one day, you'll need their support…'

'When I rule,' Jaryd said stubbornly, 'I'll rule in my own way, according to the values I've learned. Maybe they'll learn to like it-it can't be good having no honour in your life. Besides, you'd rather I lied, and said you'd killed that bastard Reynan?'

'I can take care of myself,' Sasha said shortly.

'In a fair fight, I've no doubt,' Jaryd agreed. 'But you saw Pyter Pelyn on the lagand field. These people don't fight fair, M'Lady… I mean Sasha. That's what it means to have no honour. When I'm Great Lord, that's the first thing I'll teach them.'

It was nearing midday when she emerged from Jaryd's chambers. She had not walked ten strides around a corner when a man in a pale green, lordly shirt emerged from a doorway ahead, a sword swinging at his hip. Clearly a nobleman. She glanced over her shoulder and found another man of similar appearance walking behind her. Damn.

More men emerged from the open doorway the first man had come from. One was tall with a gaunt, bony face and silver hair. He wore a cloak of red and gold-pure vanity, Sasha thought, for the air was not cool. That man had five companions all nobly attired, with swords at their sides.

Sasha stopped, her heart beating faster. Her right hand flexed, unconsciously rehearsing the fast reach to the hilt above her left shoulder. 'Lord Kumaryn,' she said, attempting pleasantry. 'Have you been waiting here for me all this time?' Some spy must have seen her heading to Jaryd's chambers. The Falcon Guard may have liked Jaryd, but they remained a company of Tyree and there were bound to be some spies reporting to the lords. But Kumaryn came himself?

'Did you have a pleasant meeting with your new lover?' Kumaryn asked. His voice was hoarse and reedy. His blue eyes were hard with malice. There were great lords in Lenayin whom Sasha did not like, yet could not help but respect. Kumaryn was not one of them. The man was petty and vain.

Sasha smiled. 'You'd like to think so, wouldn't you? Scared I'll wed him and raise heirs of Tyree as Nasi- Keth?'

Kumaryn scowled. 'You'd never dare! The lords of Tyree would never stand for it!' He thought I was being serious, Sasha realised in disbelief.

'Jaryd Nyvar would be foolish to do so, my Lord,' said a smooth voice at Kumaryn's side. 'With this one, he'd have to always wonder if the child was truly his. I hear she's had half the men in Baerlyn, and some of the women too.'