Joel Shepherd - Tracato

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 everyone dying or running away.”

“That’s been the pattern for two hundred years,” she admitted.

“What will it be like?” asked Myklas. He would be expected to participate in the attack, Sasha knew. At seventeen summers now, he was well and truly grown. Oh Myk.

“Hell,” said Sasha. For the first time in memory, she thought she spied a flicker of fear in Myklas’s eyes. It seemed a time for such firsts, among siblings. “Damon, we must think of some tactic to reduce the effectiveness of their artillery. Their infantry lines are tough enough, their tactics negate the primary Lenay strength, which is swordsmanship. We fight as individuals, they fight as a single entity. But even so, if we get that close, we can win, because it is what we’re best at, and Lenay warriors will never lose their nerve.

“But I’ve spoken with Steel soldiers, I befriended the commander of the Tracato school for Steel officers, and I spoke at length with my serrin friend Aisha, of her experiences in the war in Elisse. And my biggest fear now is that Lenay warriors may be too brave. Previous armies have survived encounters with the Steel because their nerve broke, and they ran away to fight another day. Lenay warriors do not retreat easily. And I worry that should we stay too long, under that kind of artillery fire, there will be no Army of Lenayin left.”

Damon nodded slowly. “It will be cavalry,” he said. “It is where we are most evenly matched. We must use cavalry to flank their infantry and disrupt their artillery.”

“It’s been tried before,” said Sasha. “By two centuries of military thinkers. None worked.”

“Why not?” asked Myklas.

“Because we are the attackers,” said Damon, “which means they get to choose the ground on which they fight. They know their border very well, and have altered the landscape in many places to suit possible encounters. There are many fortresses and walls, channelling attackers through awkward approaches and limiting the room on the flanks for cavalry. They force the attackers to charge infantry straight up a selected approach, with little cavalry support, and the Steel artillery scythes them down like wheat. What’s left, the Steel infantry are vastly overmatched for.”

“And they’ve talmaad ,” Sasha added. “Lenay cavalry may be a match for Steel cavalry if we can find enough open ground to fight on, but no one can match the talmaad on horseback. Mounted archery is a terrible skill in the right hands. I wonder we’ve never tried it ourselves.”

“There’re many useful ideas Lenayin has never tried,” Damon said darkly.

Myklas gave him an unimpressed look. “That becomes tiresome, Damon.”

“Defeat will seem more so,” Damon muttered.

The column halted for the evening by another castle, where local lords hosted all Lenay nobility and royalty in a feast. At Damon’s insistence Sasha was ushered upstairs to the lord and lady’s chambers, where maids assisted her to wash, and apply her ointments. Soon Damon and Myklas entered, ignoring the protests of the maids.

“It’s all right!” Sasha announced tiredly as she lay face down, naked but for a towel over her buttocks. A maid tried to hide the rest of her with a robe, but Sasha shoved it aside, and waved impatiently for them to continue pressing the ointment-soaked cloths to her worst injuries, the burns in particular.

“Great fucking gods on a horse,” Myklas muttered. “How in all the hells did you ride here from Tracato like that?” He walked around her, as though examining some strange fish washed up on the riverbank.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” Sasha murmured into the bedsheets.

Damon sat on the bed alongside. He grasped her hand. “This Reynold Hein,” he said quietly. “If we find him, when we reach Tracato, may I have him?”

Sasha laughed, humourlessly. “There’s a queue.”

“Does it hurt very badly?” Myklas asked.

“Less than it did. It looks so bad now because of all the scabbing. When they peel it will be better. Perhaps a week.” She turned her head to look at Myklas. “Did you come to see that I wasn’t exaggerating?”

“They’re shit,” said Myklas. “I knew you weren’t lying.”

“Who’s shit?”

“Oh the usual noble cow pats. They say you’re exaggerating your injuries to make yourself a martyr for Lenayin.”

“When I’m actually a traitor,” Sasha concluded. It didn’t upset her. She’d expected nothing better.

“Sasha, I need to warn you,” Damon said. “Be careful. You’re truly no safer here than you were in Tracato. Probably less.”

“I didn’t come here to be safe.”