Joel Shepherd - Sasha

Sasha snorted. "You know, just once in my life, I'd like to meet a serrin who didn't answer every question with a question."

Errollyn laughed. "All the world is a question in search of an answer, and in truth, the truest answers are themselves only questions." Sasha's gaze was decidedly unimpressed. Errollyn repressed another laugh with difficulty. "I apologise. Human humour isn't what it used to be."

He was teasing her, she realised. "Serrin humour neither," she retorted with a glare.

Errollyn only seemed to find that more amusing. And he sighed, calming himself with difficulty. "I can't imagine anything more tragic than to lose an entire people," he said sombrely. "An entire culture. My esvaderlin feel likewise. Aisha loves the writings of Tullamayne

… she's the little one with the blonde hair and blue eyes."

Sasha glanced about in her saddle. The woman with the short blue hair was talking to Sofy, with great animation on both sides. Behind them, little Aisha had introduced herself to Daryd and Rysha, and the conversation there involved many hand-signals… although, given the serrin skill with tongues, Sasha would not have been surprised if Aisha spoke fluent Edu by the time they reached the valley. Nearer, the tall man spoke with Jaryd, pointing to irrigation along the valley sides, and asking curious questions that Sasha was uncertain Jaryd would know how to answer. Sociable serrin- in love with words and endlessly fascinated by new things.

"The tall one is Terel," Errollyn added. "The other woman is Tassi. We all decided to come. We are only four, but we see better than you by night and we fight with the svaalverd. I had thought that all assistance would be welcomed, however small."

"It is," Sasha assured him. "You sound disappointed at your numbers."

"Aye," said Errollyn, a little tiredly. "I had hoped for more. But the serrinim of Petrodor are hard pressed, with war brewing in the Bacosh and many things afoot. We were forbidden to bring even this many. Yet we came."

Sasha blinked. "You disobeyed an order not to come?"

"Order," said Errollyn, as if tasting the word. And shook his head. "Not an order. These concepts don't translate well from our tongue to yours. Rhillian was unhappy, but she did not order. She cannot. I am not within her ra'shi, I have my own. My concerns are not always hers. These three friends followed me, for reasons of their own."

"This Rhillian," Sasha ventured. "I've heard she had much ra'shi, amongst the serrinim. Is she your friend?"

"Yes," said Errollyn. "And no. Her intentions are kind, yet her methods are not approved by all. She is my friend in that I have good feelings for her and she for me. And yet she is not my friend, for we argue and I will not obey her every instruction as many have resolved to do."

Sasha took a deep breath. Sinking into serrin-thought was like climbing into a hot bath-best done slowly, one bit of skin at a time. "You have ra'shi of your own, then?" she asked.

"Everyone has ra'shi," Errollyn said vaguely, his eyes upon a little farming cottage ahead. Some figures were running from the valley's far slope toward the cottage, waving. "On this question, mine agrees with my esvaderlin and disagrees with Rhillian's." He gave her a sideways glance. "You're thinking of human leadership… ra'shi is not the same. Serrin do not appoint themselves leaders, nor is the loyalty of others within an individual's ra'shi, the same as the men in this column might have for you, or for Captain Tyrun. It is more

… more a… a mutual consent of those within one ra'shi to appoint one who shall lead, on this matter, and for this time, at least. Does that make sense?"

Sasha grinned. "No." Errollyn sighed. "But you're serrin. I forgive you."

Cryliss, capital of Valhanan, was a mess. Rumours had spread in advance of a great, bloodthirsty Goeren-yai force advancing from Baen-Tar. With Great Lord Kumaryn and his fellow nobles mostly away at Rathynal, the remaining Cruliss nobility had panicked. Some had gathered belongings and fled for the hills, while others had attacked the few Goeren-yai who lived on the city outskirts.

Some cityfolk came out to greet the army as it marched into the city, followed by perhaps a hundred honourable Verenthanes who made a line across the main road, prepared to lay down their lives if the army did not have honourable intentions. A short talk with Captain Tyrun and several of the column's other Verenthanes convinced them to disperse, and even to organise supplies and spread word that the rumours of rape and pillage were lies.

At the Yethl River running through the city's heart, the column paused for a drink and some food. The toll amongst the Cryliss Goeren-yai was not as bad as first feared-four confirmed dead, but plenty of friendly Verenthanes had protected the others. The names of the murderers had been taken, some said coldly, and an officer of the king would be sought for justice.

It was not long before Andreyis arrived, insisting that there were some people Sasha should meet. He led the way along the riverbank, past more soldiers and horses than Sasha had ever seen in her life. Hooves churned the green grass as group after group led their animals to drink. She could barely see more than ten strides in any direction past the press of animal bodies and the forest of legs, but Andreyis seemed to know where to go. Sasha found herself watching the horses as she went, judging their character with a practised eye… perhaps half were lowland breeds and the other half either dussieh or part-dussieh.

The character of the column had changed. Now, instead of being predominantly line company troops, they were an army of many townsmen and villagers. Formidable warriors all, their skills forged in the many training halls of Lenayin. As cavalry, they were less impressive-a horse was a great expense and few could own one. Amongst those who did own horses, dedicated cavalry training was of uneven standard.

Andreyis found the Baerlyn contingent further from the river, their horses feeding from one of the hay piles some Cryliss Goeren-yai farmers had deposited across the fields. Jaegar was there, in laughing conversation with several men from another village, and looking the happiest Sasha had seen him in years. He hugged her tight enough to give her fear for her ribs, much to the awe of the other men. Then she clasped forearms with Byorn of the training hall, and his friend Madyn, and cheerful Illys the wood craftsman who played a mean reed pipe… and then others were coming, and she realised that there were far more men in the Baerlyn contingent than she'd have expected.

A familiar whinny caught her attention, and she looked at the horses to see a very familiar, white-starred face looking her way. "Chersey!" she exclaimed, and ran to the mare, who greeted her with a friendly nuzzle. Another shoved past Chersey with a loud, friendly greeting… "Ussey!" She hugged the young gelding about the neck and, looking wildly about, realised that all her horses were here. The stables of the ranch had been emptied.

Of course they'd emptied the stables, the more horses available, the more men who could join the column. But her horses were a part of her memories of home, happy, safe and comforting…

"Don't worry, girl," Jaegar said with a gruff grin, as Chersey nudged her in the stomach and Ussey blew in her face, "we'll look after your blasted horses."

Sasha gave him a helpless, protesting look… it was shameful-she should have been more worried for the lives of her Baerlyn friends. And she was, dreadfully so… and yet, this was different. From the look on Jaegar's face, however, she knew that he understood.

There came a cry from her left, then, and she was only half surprised when a slim tangle of red-haired curls came sprinting her way and threw herself into Sasha's embrace. Sasha gave the men an exasperated look over Lynette's head, and many of them found interest in things elsewhere, or scratched their heads, looking uncomfortable.