“I’m all right,” she said, with tears in her eyes. She hugged him, and he replied with gentle pressure. Then Myklas, whose idiot grin was unrestrained. “You’ve grown,” Sasha observed.
“You’ve shrunk,” Myklas retorted, and kissed her roughly.
“Sasha, where have you been?” Damon asked. “Was it Tracato?”
“Aye. Kessligh’s still there.”
“And Alythia?”
“How did she cope living as a pauper on Dockside for half a year?” Myklas asked joyfully. “I would have given anything to see that!” Koenyg cuffed him on the head.
Sasha looked at the sodden grass. She’d almost been hoping for a frosty reception, she realised. From Koenyg at least. Now, they were all together, and almost a family, for the first time in…spirits, she couldn’t think of when. She wanted to enjoy it. Wanted to talk with her brothers and tell all her tales, and listen to theirs, and laugh, and eat and perhaps even down a cup of wine in their presence, where no priest would see her. But it had to be done. It was a duty of blood, that she be here. That they hear it from her own mouth.
“Alythia’s dead,” she said softly. “I saw the body.” For a moment, there was no sound but the great passing of the column. Koenyg looked pale. Damon, aghast. Myklas, disbelieving.
“No!” Myklas insisted. Then he stamped in fury, his eyes spilling. “No! You’re wrong! She’s not dead!”
Koenyg grabbed him, a hard immobilising arm about the younger man’s shoulders. Myklas tried to fight him off, but Damon grabbed him and Myklas collapsed against Damon’s shoulder, sobbing. Sasha’s own tears escaped her, and she was drawn into the four-sided embrace. Her brothers’ arms about her hurt, but that was well. Everything hurt. They grieved together, a small circle of pain by the roadside. And Sasha wondered what it said about her family that pain and war should unite them at last, where so little else had worked.
The siblings took lunch in the same carriage that had carried Sofy from Baen-Tar to Sherdaine. It was a shameful thing for a Lenay prince to travel by carriage, but it was the only way all four could converse together without halting. The king rode further back in the column today. Word was travelling to him of Sasha’s arrival. Sasha did not look forward to that inevitable meeting.
She told her brothers the story from the beginning. Her time in Petrodor, Kessligh’s struggles to unite the Nasi-Keth, her friendship with Rhillian, and the trials that followed. Then Tracato. Koenyg listened grimly to hear of the troubles there. Damon looked wearily resigned. And Myklas, completely impatient with any politics, wishing only to hear of Alythia’s end. When she finished, none of them spoke. The carriage wheels clattered and bounced on the road, jolting Sasha’s wounds. She’d felt altogether more comfortable in a saddle.
“That is quite a tale,” Koenyg said finally. “You and I shall talk some more on affairs in Tracato, and Saalshen’s moves for power there. We shall talk on the Steel’s formations and tactics, also. But I must know…you say the Steel have left Tracato?”
“Those formations that had been fighting in Elisse, yes,” said Sasha. “It has taken me ten days to get here. The Steel moves more slowly, but are remarkably fast for such a heavy formation. They are all in position now, I am certain.”
“And the Enorans?” Koenyg pressed.
“I have not been in Enora, I could not say. But rumour was that the Enorans were quite unnerved by Tracato’s troubles. Some rumours suggested there may have been Enoran formations readying to march into Rhodaan to restore order, should the feudalists grasp control. But even if true, I suspect they too would be in position by now. You’re late.”
“The Torovans are late,” Koenyg corrected. “And weddings between nations take an obscene amount of time. But it’s true, it would have been nice to get here a week earlier.”
“And Ilduur?” Damon asked.
“Ilduur is mountainous,” Sasha replied. “Most Rhodaanis don’t trust them, from feudals to Civid Sein. Ilduur has natural fortifications, there is no way through for any invading army, save through narrow passes that would be death against far lesser forces than the Ilduuri can muster. So the Ilduuri tend to sit in their mountain strongholds and wait. They are sworn by oath to defend their blood brothers of Enora and Rhodaan, but they show little enthusiasm for it. Their posture is defensive, and they will not launch a flanking thrust to threaten Enora’s attackers, as Enora will and has for Rhodaan.” She looked at Koenyg. “What’s the plan?”
“It was to be a two-pronged attack, against Rhodaan and Enora. But this news of Tracato’s troubles continues to mount, I now think it would best be focused upon the Rhodaanis…if the Rhodaani Steel has been suffering some desertions, and some of their soldiers have been fighting in Elisse, Tracato, and now to the border, they’ll be tired, and perhaps disillusioned. A breakthrough against Rhodaan would seem more likely now than Enora.”
It seemed very hopeful, but Sasha held her tongue. Any advantage against the Steel was a good thing. “So you’ll be thinking a feint against the Enorans?” she asked.
“Perhaps a third of the total force. Or perhaps a quarter made to look like a third, if we think we can get away with it. Enough to hold the Enorans from a flanking sweep, and focus our maximum force upon the Rhodaanis.”
“They’re not that strong, surely!” Myklas scoffed. “Rhodaan and Enora have maybe thirty thousand each, but even with Torovan understrength, we number a hundred and forty. There’s never been an army of this scale in all the history of Rhodia!”
“You’ll need all of them,” Sasha told Koenyg, not bothering to answer her youngest brother. “Focusing strength is good. Even if successful, it will be a close run thing.”
Koenyg nodded, not contesting her assessment. Sasha was relieved at least to see that he had a clear idea of what they were up against.
Koenyg leaned forward, and looked her hard in the eyes. “Sasha. I will not lie to you. You are useful to me, and to this war. You have great standing amongst the central and eastern Goeren-yai, and many of them are still not too keen on the fight. Damon has been attempting to drum some sense into their thick skulls about the need to change their fighting styles, with some limited success. Your own words, from Kessligh’s student, could convince them.
“But I must know. Kessligh is still in Tracato. He shall perhaps not assist the Steel directly, but he most certainly assists the defence of Rhodaan more broadly. As does your friend Errollyn. As do many others of your former friends and comrades. Now you choose to ride here with us. Tell me truly-when the horns are sounded and men start dying, where shall your loyalties lie?”
Sasha’s gaze was expressionless. “With Lenayin,” she said flatly. “Always.”
Koenyg nodded. Convinced, perhaps, but…“Have you lost faith?” he wondered. “Kessligh had great hopes for the Nasi-Keth. He had great hopes for you, as a leader of the Nasi-Keth. What of those dreams, Sasha? Where do they lie?”
“Aside,” said Sasha. There was no emotion in her voice, because she did not feel any. She felt…empty. “I cannot say that I have abandoned them entirely. But they lie far aside all the same. They were cast aside not by me, but by the factions of Tracato, Nasi-Keth amongst them. I saw that the civilisation they had built was but a thin shroud over barbarism. I saw Nasi-Keth themselves, who should have known better, casting their lot in with a mob who were little better than the frothing Riverside mobs in Petrodor, only better dressed and led by intellectuals. I gave them my best, I gave them a fair chance, and they betrayed all my dreams, tortured me and Errollyn, and murdered my sister.
“I am here because one dream lies shattered. I cannot stand to see my nation shattered as well. I have come to defend the most important thing I have left, the thing I still believe in with all my heart and soul-my people, and my family. I may be only one person, but I am duty bound to help however I can. Lenayin will need every asset at its disposal.”
Koenyg nodded. His look was one of firm approval. Sasha reflected that it was perhaps the only time she could recall him looking at her in that way.
“I will find you a role,” he said, “never fear about that. You have done well for Lenayin. Welcome home.”
He opened the carriage door and got out, walking to where a Royal Guardsman trailed his horse to one side.
“How good are they?” Damon asked when he was gone. “The Steel, I mean?” Sasha saw from his sombre look that he had grasped something that perhaps Koenyg had not.
“Good,” she said. “Surely you’ve been speaking with Bacosh veterans of past wars?”
Damon nodded. “But they cannot give a full picture. Usually their fights were too brief, and consisted of
