flashed ten fingers, once. And to his sister, then seven fingers.
'And what is your name?' Sasha asked him. Pointed to his sister. 'Rysha, and…?'
'Daryd,' said the boy, with more than a hint of pride. 'Daryd Yuvenar.'
'Greetings, Daryd Yuvenar,' Sasha said with a smile. 'My name is Sashandra Lenayin.' A pause as he seemed to recognise that, frowning. 'Princess Sashandra Lenayin,' Sasha added, carefully. Only too well aware of the men who surrounded, watching and listening.
Daryd's frown became a wide-eyed stare. Comprehension at surely the only human woman he'd ever met who wore her hair short with a tri-braid and dressed in pants with a blade at her back. 'Synnich-ahn!' he exclaimed. 'Tel edan yl Synnich-ahn!'
Dear spirits, not that again. Sasha put a hand firmly on his shoulder. Even little Rysha was staring at her now, teary but wide-eyed. There was a yellow flower in her hair of a kind Sasha had never seen before, now tattered and half-dead. 'Daryd Yuvenar. Udalyn?'
Daryd nodded vigorously. 'Udalyn. Ren adlyn father! King Torvaal! Vyl heryt ais on shyl Torvaal!' Pointing to his own two eyes, desperately.
Sasha let out a hard breath. That was obvious enough. 'Aye,' she said, nodding softly. 'I think we can arrange that.' She gave the boy's shoulder a squeeze. 'Brave kids. All this way to plead with the king. You could have stopped anywhere, but you didn't.' Didn't trust anyone, she supposed. A century of isolation might do that. And they had been escorted, Garys had said, by one of Jurellyn's scouts; Jurellyn, who had blazed the trail for the Falcon Guard upon the road to Taneryn. Damon had left him behind to watch Usyn's movements and now Jurellyn thought the situation desperate enough to send these two straight for the king.
She heaved herself to her feet. 'Well,' she said tiredly to the surrounding men, 'I don't speak any Edu to get a story from these two. But there is one who might.'
The floor of Lord Krayliss's tent was spread with deerskin, alternately soft and coarse as Sasha shifted her weight where she sat. Lord Krayliss sat on a bundle of rolled skins at the end of his bed, a hard fist supporting his bearded chin. Before him sat Daryd and Rysha, eating hot soup and bread before the central tent pole that was impaled deep into the earth. Several senior Taneryn men sat about the tent, all rumpled long hair, tattoos and rings, in traditional stitched leathers and weave. For all Sasha's discomfort, it did occur to her that the scene might be straight from centuries past, when rulers called themselves chieftains instead of lords, and the ancient ways were the ways of all Lenayin. Only Jaryd, seated uncomfortably at her side, spoiled the scene's ancient purity.
Krayliss attempted questions of the children as they ate. Both were clearly frightened of the big, bearish man, but the warmth of both tent and food appeared to calm them considerably. Both, however, continued to cast anxious glances at Sasha, to which she would smile and nod encouragement, whilst trying to follow the broken snatches of conversation.
None of the Taneryn men spoke Edu with any fluency, yet the two dominant tongues of Taneryn were Dyal and Taasti, and both had many words in common with the old Udalyn tongue. Krayliss, to Sasha's moderate amazement, remained both patient and calm. When Daryd (who did most of the talking) did not understand, Krayliss simply invited his fellow yuans to try. What evolved was a three, and sometimes even four or five, tongued conversation, as men attempted various combinations, guesses, or even bits of Cherrovan, to ask questions or interpret puzzling replies. All the Taneryn men gazed at the children with evident fascination, and addressed themselves to the linguistic task with as much enthusiasm as Sasha had ever seen a bunch of hard-headed Goeren-yai warriors address anything so intellectually demanding. A pity there were no serrin present, she thought. They would have been utterly intrigued.
Finally, Krayliss straightened on his bundled seat, frowning heavily. It suited his face entirely. 'They are from Ymoth,' he said heavily. Sasha nodded, having gathered that much already. 'Usyn's armies attacked. Thousands of men on horse, the boy says. They flew banners of the Hadryn clans. The spirits made sure these two were found by one of your brother's scouts, who guided them here. That was eight days ago.'
'Then Usyn's army headed straight for Ymoth after leaving Halleryn,' said one of the yuans, darkly. 'No doubt he planned this treachery from the beginning.'
'The Udalyn should never have resettled Ymoth,' Krayliss rumbled. 'It is not far from the valley mouth, amidst fertile lands. Surely it must have tempted them. But the word of protection from successive Verenthane kings has lulled their instincts for survival. Ymoth is too exposed, and the Udalyn too few in strength and weapons to defend it from Hadryn heavy cavalry. I fear the Udalyn have lost valuable forces defending Ymoth. Now, their defences will be fewer. There is no time to lose.'
'The Udalyn have strong defences,' said Sasha. 'Further up the valley, the sides are sheer. And then there are the walls.'
'And I say,' said Krayliss, with a hardening tone, 'that there is no time to lose!'
Sasha met his gaze firmly. 'I agree. We should take at least one child to the king. We need to persuade him that the Hadryn must be stopped.'
'I have no faith in the farsight and mercy of Verenthane kings,' Krayliss muttered.
'The farsight and mercy of Verenthane kings has been the only thing keeping the Udalyn alive the past hundred years,' Sasha replied.
Krayliss's eyes blazed. 'The Goeren-yai are not weaklings! We can defend our own! We need merely a leader. The spirits show providence that we should all be gathered together so.'
Sasha felt her gut tighten in cold anticipation. Krayliss believed someone must lead the Goeren-yai to save the Udalyn, if the king would not. And, of course, he intended that person to be him. That was what he gained by agreeing to leave Halleryn and come to Baen-Tar to face the king's justice. Here, at Rathynal, he would have a far greater audience. There were thousands of Goeren-yai soldiers encamped here before the walls of Baen-Tar. All Krayliss thought they needed was suitable motivation.
'The Udalyn have defended themselves for a century against overwhelming odds,' Sasha said coldly. 'There should be no rush into a crisis because we were too impatient to make a proper appeal to the king.'
'The king shall wait until all are dead and the Udalyn are no more,' Krayliss replied, his fist clenched.
'Should you desire my support, Lord Krayliss,' Sasha said icily, 'then we shall do things my way. Otherwise, you shall not have it.'
Krayliss glowered. 'When I need your help, girlie, I'll damn well
…'
'Am I the lady of the Synnich or not?' Sasha said sharply.
About the tent, some men made the spirit sign. Krayliss bit his tongue with difficulty. Daryd and Rysha sat watching with wide eyes. Sasha saw that they clasped hands. 'M'Lady,' said one man, seriously, and with deference. 'What action do you suggest?'
Krayliss's scowl grew deeper. 'The king,' Sasha told the man, coolly. 'He is our best chance. Any other course would risk tearing Lenayin apart. We should not lose faith in our Verenthane brothers. Master Jaryd risked much to find these two children, as did many of the Falcon Guard's Verenthane soldiers. Should we ride to save the Udalyn, Verenthanes should ride with us. Lenayin must remain whole. Should a purely Goeren-yai army attack the Verenthane north, all Verenthanes shall rise against it and all shall be lost.'
'And should the king not see reason?' Krayliss said darkly. 'What then would M'Lady of the Synnich intend?'
Sasha exhaled a long breath, her gaze settling upon the two dirty, frightened children before her. 'Let us hope,' she said quietly, 'that it does not come to that.'
Fourteen
One of Krayliss's men arrived the next morning as Sasha went about giving Peg a groom and wash. With the Taneryn man was little Daryd.
'Best you take him now, M'Lady,' said the man, a lean Goeren-yai with his hair in many braids, but with no spirit-mask. He seemed edgy as he pushed aside the stall gate, casting a final glance each way up the hall. 'We're being watched. The lad drew no special mention through the gates, we said he was M'Lord's nephew, but surely someone would notice that we don't talk to him, or that he doesn't listen.'
