Haven: A Trial of Blood and Steel Book Four (40 page)

Sasha's squad again encircled her, one now limping, as defenders ahead resisted with commendable stubbornness, surrounding themselves with shields, arranging spears behind those to stab at the advancing Steel, and at the repeated thrusts of cavalry. The cavalry weren't much use against that tight block of defenders, Sasha saw—their horses were slipping on the pavings, and riding into those spears at speed was suicide. Infantry had better success, fighting inside the spears and coming shoulder-to-shoulder, as the Steel liked best. But still the defenders resisted, backed against the mouth of a road, blocking it like a cork in the neck of a bottle.

Sasha looked about from within her phalanx, seeing the rest of the courtyard apparently under control and wondering who she could redeploy to assist here…and then there were arrows flying out from the Tol'rhen, arcing over her head, and landing amidst the defenders. That rain of arrows increased, no inconsiderable range across the width of the courtyard, but the
talmaad
were judging it to their usual perfection. Unlike the Steel, these defenders did not have enough shields, nor enough aptitude in their use, to cover themselves entirely. Men began falling with terrible regularity as their formation fell apart like a castle of sand in a rainstorm. The remainder dissolved and ran.

The battle was over, but the clean up went on all day. The surrounds of the Tol'rhen, it became clear, were havens of resistance and friendship to the Remischtuul. The rulers of Ilduur had purchased the Nasi-Keth's support with offers of power and money, and the neighbourhood was as wealthy as any Sasha had seen in Andal. Steel now went house to house, breaking down doors, asking after known men and some women, killing any who resisted with force.

Sasha found it far more awful than the battle. She wanted to retreat to some safe place and hear of events by messenger, as some commanders would. But she forced herself to walk the streets past sobbing women and angry, frightened men, past groups of wailing children ushered away for safekeeping while their parents and elder siblings were questioned, often roughly. She saw men beaten, who gave the Steel harsh words. She saw rooms and entire houses ransacked in search of incriminating evidence and hiding places. She saw one young man draw a blade in fury at a soldier who shoved his mother, only to be impaled by another, and die slowly in his screaming mother's arms.

She recalled the serrin youngster whom she'd seen killed the same way on the Night of the Knives, as it was now called, and how she'd wanted to kill the man who did it, and the one who'd given him orders. Now, that last was her.

Weapons were confiscated—stockpiles of swords and armour uncovered in attics, crossbows bundled in chests beneath piles of winter cloaks. Certainly she had averted an uprising here, of major proportions. She walked the streets from one site to another, being seen by the soldiers, and seeing them in turn. As she stood in one room, observing a new cache, she overheard one of her guards in the corridor outside, talking with another soldier.

“Six, she got. Threw off her shield and charged them down, six in as many heartbeats. Most Nasi-Keth, some of them damn good too. Never seen its like—I wondered if she was as good as the tales, turns out she's better.”

Sasha paused before that man on the way out. “What do you think of my shieldwork?” she asked him with a wry smile. It was the same man who had been guarding her right side in the battle.

“Could improve, ma'am, with practice,” he said diplomatically.

“Fucking stinks,” Sasha summarised, and all the men in the corridor laughed. “If I never have to fight in a shield line ever again, it will be too soon. You stick with yours, and I'll stick with mine.”

“If we could get the Regent's army out of formation and with no shields,” the soldier replied, “I reckon you could end this war on your own.”

Sasha's smile vanished as soon as she left the corridor. About her was the misery of the worst thing that she had ever done. Yet she had secured control, and made certain that the rest of the Steel would not arrive in Andal to find the city risen in revolt against her. That would look awful; those men would not be confident to follow her, finding that she did not have this situation in hand.

These men who had fought with her would mingle with the new arrivals, and tell them what kind of warrior and commander this strange girl from Lenayin was. They would tell them of comfortable victories against difficult odds, of battles that should have been painful being unexpectedly painless. And they would tell of those six kills outside the Tol'rhen to prevent her squad from being surrounded, and likely that number would rise with each telling.

She would bring the Ilduuri Steel to Jahnd, and not beneath some uncooperative commander who wished to do things his own way, but under her command, and hers alone. These men would follow her now. Many of them to their deaths, even if they won. And all of them to their deaths if they lost.

T
he lands of eastern Ilduur reminded Sasha of the eastern foothills of her native Valhanan, save that where Valhanan descended in great ridges and valleys into Torovan, Ilduur emerged through even more rugged lands into Saalshen itself. These were sometimes called the buffer lands, the only place where serrin and human lands met without the divide of the Ipshaal River. For centuries, even before the rise and fall of King Leyvaan, humans and serrin in this wild place had intermingled, intermarried, and traded, with no apparent discord. The people here called themselves the
saaren saadi
, which she gathered meant in Ilduuri the “children of heaven,” and in several days of marching through these lands, she had come to see why.

The foothills were steep, and the road wound along ridgelines and often precariously sheer faces. Everything was green, and even now in late summer it rained every day, sometimes heavily. Little villages perched on grand hilltops, with views of the lands about them that made even a proud Lenay catch her breath. Drifting clouds and mist made these places seem to be floating amongst the clouds, and many hillsides were cultivated into terraces the like of which Sasha had never seen before. They grew rice, she was told, and other crops that required much water. When the sun struck an ascending stack of flooded rice terraces at just the correct angle, the whole hillside would gleam like silver.

The
saaren saadi
welcomed the Ilduuri Steel with cheers, food, and wine. Camping was difficult, the seventeen thousand-strong army stretched along an entire ridgeline exposed to the elements, but there was simply no flat ground upon which to muster a camp. The men did not seem to mind—a good three-quarters were native to these lands, and many passed through home villages, and embraced family along the way. Sasha was not surprised to see serrin here, and many of the Ilduuri humans seemed more than passingly serrin, a hint of exotic colour to the eyes and hair, a pronounced shape to the cheeks.

She was further intrigued to see temples and pagodas atop many peaks, and an abundance of flags above the terraces that she was told were partly for worship, and partly to keep the birds off. This was a native religion named Taanist, after the man who had begun it many centuries before. Some said he was serrin, others said human, and others still that he was of mixed race. Yet his teachings were of cycles and patterns, and seemed to Sasha like the attempt of a human to structure serrin philosophies into forms more easily comprehensible to humans. Emphasised were peace and meditation, and the great cycles of life. Sasha thought that if only it were not such a long journey, Lenay Goeren-yai would come here on pilgrimage, and learn of these people. In all her time away from home, she had never been in any place that reminded her so much of Lenayin, yet with such striking foreignness.

As soon as the high foothills ended, Saalshen truly began. Through thick woods and rolling hills the Ilduuri Steel marched, and serrin came out to watch, offer food and drink, and walk alongside whilst asking questions. Clearly they did not fear the Ilduuri Steel, and had received warning of its arrival. Yet their welcome was, to Sasha, vaguely disappointing, compared to the cheers and enthusiasm of the
saaren saadi
of the higher mountains. On the other hand, she reminded herself, serrin so rarely went for that kind of enthusiasm in anything. They were pleasant, yet measured, in most things. And here, seeing a grand army of human warriors in steel armour, marching through their peaceful lands, they were perhaps understandably wary.

The approach to Jahnd became mountainous once more, as the Eastern Reach extended further into Saalshen from Ilduur. It was a range of low mountains, like a wall before them, climbed in a day through a single pass.

Finally, twelve days after leaving Andal, the way ahead dropped into low hills and the most thickly cultivated land they'd seen so far. Before them, on the right side of the valley mouth, a city climbed the hills to sprawl across that promontory of land. Beyond it more hills rose steeply. Sasha smiled faintly as she rode, gazing intently at every rise of rock and cluster of trees, trying to get a sense of the land. Jahnd was built on a hill slope overlooking a river, in a valley surrounded by hills. So far, it looked very promising for a defence. How promising, she'd have to wait until she arrived to determine.

In the valley, crowds had gathered to cheer their arrival. These were mostly human, local villagers spread through the small fields between the trees, a few waving flags that Sasha did not recognise, but guessed represented the city of Jahnd. As the valley grew wider, they passed more farmhouses, then small villages, then large ones. They crossed the river at a stone bridge through a pretty town, and hundreds of townsfolk hung out of the windows, festooned with flags, and showered them with flowers.

Sasha saw many people pointing, at her in particular. She rode alongside a collection of the highest-ranking Ilduuris—a gesture she thought important, as she did not wish to appear the aloof foreign conqueror. Behind her in the vanguard rode Rhillian and Aisha with some other officers, the rest riding at the head of their particular formations back in the column. A few of the
talmaad
rode along. Many others remained in Ilduur to help escaping serrin or half-castes from those lands. The serrin had not been keen to follow Rhillian, and Sasha wondered how she'd be received amongst her people in Jahnd.

Nearing the mouth of the valley, she got her first good look at Jahnd. It rose up the rounded promontory in a slope that seemed as steep as Petrodor's, an amazing bristle of detail, clustered rooftops, and spires. Yet even from this distance she could see the wealth of its buildings, with none of Petrodor's crumbling decay. About the base of the slope, great walls loomed, arcing out of sight about the front of the promontory. But well before those walls, the city sprawled away from the slope and out across the valley floor to the river and across.

Approaching that sprawl now, they crossed open fields and yards filled with cattle and sheep. And here, astride the approach road, waited a small welcoming party.

Sasha recognised Kessligh immediately. Yells sounded out across the Steel column behind, and trumpets blared. Colours went up, a great unfurling of flags and pennants. Sasha's new horse had been selected from the Remischtuul stable, a young stallion who reminded her a little of her beloved Peg, in build if not in unremarkable chestnut colour. Clearly he'd been trained for display, for now with the flags and trumpets, he tossed his head and pranced a little. And was disappointed, for Sasha's style was not to prance, and she made him stop.

She let an officer call the halt, and rode forward to greet Kessligh on her own. He looked good, perhaps a little more weathered than usual, but mostly from squinting into a lowlands summer sun on horseback. His companions included several lads from Tracato's Tol'rhen whom she recognised, and some well-dressed city men she didn't.

His expression as he looked her up and down was quizzical. Sasha nearly grinned. “You brought the Steel, I see,” he remarked.

Sasha shrugged offhandedly. “Oh you know. Just those I could find.” Kessligh's look held a good-humoured reprimand. “Seventeen thousand,” she answered his unasked question. “I'm told there could be another two or three thousand trailing. Three-and-a-half thousand cavalry, the rest infantry. Almost no artillery, just a few wagons of ballistas; the Ilduuri don't use them much in the mountains.”

She could see Kessligh doing fast calculations. “It's good,” he told her. Which meant that it was unlikely to be anywhere near enough, but he was pleased anyhow. “All three Steel armies combined will give us about thirty-five thousand. Lenayin brings us closer to fifty, then there's all the
talmaad.
Our defensive position is strong.”

Sasha frowned. “They can't have more than one hundred and fifty—if their advantage is only three to one, our position should be good enough. What's the problem?”

“They have artillery now. Quite a bit of it, captured in Rhodaan and Enora.”

Sasha looked at his grim expression, and her heart sank.

“The Ilduuris. They follow you?” Kessligh asked.

Sasha nodded. “My rank is general. Honorary, yet real enough.”

Kessligh's smile was pure pride. And nothing at all of surprise. “Finally the world comes to see what I first saw,” he said.

Sasha smiled, edged her horse alongside, and embraced him, one soldier to another. From behind, the Ilduuri Steel gave a cheer. To them, Kessligh Cronenverdt was a legend. They had been following his pupil until now, perhaps his successor. Now the legend commanded them too. Sasha thought that in their cheer, she could hear some relief that they had not chosen unwisely.

Kessligh introduced her to Tallam, a council leader of the city of Jahnd. Together, the three of them led the way into the city outskirts, Sasha in the middle so that she could benefit from their conversation.

“The walls are more than five hundred years old,” said Tallam, a strong-looking man of middle age, balding but long-haired at the back. He wore the colourful shirt of a townsman, yet underneath was mail, and he had a sword at his hip. “We've kept them in good condition, but as you see, the town now abuts directly against them.”

“Buildings will need to be demolished to give archers a clear field of fire,” said Kessligh. “But some townsfolk resist.”

Sasha did not even bother with exasperation, it was too predictable. “Five hundred years,” she pondered instead, gazing at the walls above the encroaching rooftops and cheering crowds. “How old
is
Jahnd?”

“Serrin records place the first settlers here at the year eleven hundred before Saint Tristen,” said Tallam.

Eleven hundred years before the Verenthane faith, that was. “Seventeen hundred years?” It was an extraordinary number. Many Verenthanes claimed it had not been that long since the gods had made the world.

“They were small settlements in those days; freehold farmers scattered across these valleys and hills. Serrin still lived upon the western side of the Ipshaal, on what is today the Bacosh. Humans and serrin were intermingled for a long time, and living quite peaceably together, to read the serrin records. But humans became stronger, and drove the serrin back across the Ipshaal, thus forcing the serrin to become more organised for the first time.

“Some humans of the Bacosh saw human settlement on this side of the Ipshaal as an invitation to claim these lands also for humans, but this time the serrin fought back, and evicted from these lands all humans who had helped in the invasion. But the humans living in these valleys had always been friendly to serrin, and were allowed to stay. As feudalism gained strength in the Bacosh, and then the Verenthane faith, there came more and more wars; peasants and persecuted peoples escaped across the Ipshaal, and were directed by serrin to settle here. The first truly great wave was during the Wars of Five Kings—those people feared pursuit by their former masters into Saalshen, and so built the walls.”

“The Wars of Five Kings,” Sasha murmured, recalling an old history lesson. The dates fit. She lost sight of the walls momentarily as taller buildings intervened, an upper-floor window crowded with cheering Jahndis.

“But the pursuit never came,” Tallam continued. “Saalshen's
talmaad
grew strongest in that period. Over the centuries we have built a city that sprawls far beyond the city walls.”

“How many people, do you think?” Sasha asked.

“At last reliable count, nearly a hundred thousand,” said Tallam. Sasha whistled. Barely a fifth the size of Petrodor, she thought. Perhaps a little less than Tracato. Baen-Tar, capital of Lenayin, had barely eight thousand, or so people said. Being in the lowlands for this long had taught her to think differently on the scale of human civilisations.

“I don't suppose you've taught all of them to fight?” Sasha asked wryly.

“Some,” said Tallam. “But understand that we are guests in Saalshen, and do not take any measures that may offend serrin sensibilities. Serrin have argued for centuries whether it is a good idea to nurture such a large human city in their midst. We are required to keep records on every resident, to ensure that our one hundred thousand does not become two hundred, then five hundred.

“So, naturally, they do not like us to have a large army, and become involved in affairs across the Ipshaal. We stay secluded, so that we do not draw other humans into the affairs of Saalshen, and give them excuse to attack the serrin.”

“A nice hope while it lasted,” Kessligh remarked. “But like all vain hopes, likely to achieve the opposite effect to that intended, only at a later date.”

It was an attractive city, Sasha thought. In the Bacosh, this sprawl of settlement about the defensive walls might be little more than a slum of peasants and landless, huddled close to a castle for protection and refuse scraps. But in Jahnd, these people seemed prosperous. Buildings here were low, more like the simple timber and wood structures of a Lenay town, yet everywhere were workshop yards and storage lots. She saw inns with stables, an ironmonger about a great chimney, and a leather-tanning yard nearer the river. There were butchers, millers, and bakers, and, here on the right beneath some shade trees, an entire courtyard for the sale of spun cloth.