Joel Shepherd - Sasha

"So you think Verenthaneism has made us better?"

"I didn't say that. Glue is glue. Verenthaneism serves its purpose where fractious ancient beliefs and loyalties could not. It makes Lenayin one. But any other glue may have served as well."

There was nothing quite so lonely, Sasha thought, as sitting watch at camp after a battle. The log beneath her was hard, the air far colder than a summer night had any right to be, and there was no light but the brilliance of a billion stars. From about the camp came the sound of men snoring, or a horse snorting. Alone in the dark, a watchman's thoughts were his only company. And his memories.

A twig snapped. Sasha stared into the darkness, hands grasping the sword by her side. A rustle of pine needles. "M'Lady Sashandra? Are you there?"

Jaryd's voice. She could see him now, very faintly, a shadow in the blackness. She wondered if he would go away if she remained silent. "I'm here," she said instead. "Sitting down, on the log."

The shadow approached. She did not know why she'd invited him overlike most Verenthane nobles, Jaryd Nyvar was a pain in the neck. Perhaps, she thought wryly, she was just as much the fool as those idiot noble girls who giggled and whispered at the tournaments. Sitting alone on guard watch, even a demon of Loth might be welcome company if his eyes were handsome and his shoulders manly.

The log shifted as Jaryd settled beside her, wrapped tightly like her beneath cloak and blankets. "I couldn't sleep," he explained. He spoke in little more than a whisper, but in the vast, empty silence, it seemed as loud as a yell. "Damn but it's cold!"

"Northerly wind and no clouds," Sasha replied, standard knowledge for any Lenay who lived in the wilds. "Westerlies can be even worse, the wind comes straight off the mountains. Some Goeren-yai say unseasonal weather means the spirits are disturbed."

Jaryd hissed through his teeth, rubbing hands together beneath his cloak and blanket. "Well, the stars are beautiful," he admitted. "Don't the Goerenyai believe that stars are lucky?"

Sadly, it was too dark for Sasha to see either his handsome eyes or manly shoulders. This conversation, then, would rest entirely upon the strength of his personality. She nearly laughed. "Aye," she agreed.

"Did you make a wish?"

"No."

"Then what were you thinking of?" Jaryd pressed.

Sasha sighed. "My mother," she said quietly.

"Ah, Queen Shenai." As if he'd known her personally. Jaryd was perhaps only a year older than Sasha-he couldn't have been more than six when the queen had died, in childbirth to Sasha's youngest sibling Myklas. Sasha nearly snorted. "She was very beautiful. My father says she was a wonderful queen."

"I knew her only a little," Sasha admitted.

"I can recall the days of mourning," Jaryd continued, very much in love with the sound of his own whisper. "My family all wore black for seven days. My mother also died young, in childbirth. So sad a thing

… and yet so noble, to die whilst giving life. A far more Verenthane end, I fear, than most warriors shall meet-dying whilst taking life."

"Perhaps if the priests would allow Verenthane women to use the serrin's white powder," Sasha remarked, "all these women needn't die young at all."

Though his face remained unseen, Sasha could sense Jaryd's consternation. "But it is against the gods' will!"

"It's against the priests' will," Sasha retorted. "Serrin women can fight, play music, make arts, conduct trade… all the things that men do. It's far easier when you're not pregnant all the time, I gather. I wonder what amazing things Lenay women would discover they could do if given the opportunity."

"M'Lady…" said Jaryd, appearing to fight down an amazed smile, "what is a woman, if not the opposite to a man?"

"Should a woman then not walk?" Sasha replied. "Not breathe? Not talk and think? You do all of these things, yet you are a man, so surely I cannot be a woman, because I do them too. I think, Master Jaryd, that the only state in which a woman can meet the Verenthane ideal and not mimic any of your manly deeds is in death."

Jaryd shook his head. "You truly are a strange girl. The serrin spread strange notions from Saalshen."

"Do they frighten you?"

"Frighten? M'Lady, I assure you… I do not frighten easily."

"Yet you disapprove of me. Why? Why wish me to be something else, unless you feel threatened?"

Jaryd did not reply immediately. Somewhere in the forest, an owl hooted. "I was raised to be a good Verenthane," he said then. He sounded troubled. "Yesterday, at Perys, I saw you do things with a blade that… that I had not thought possible for a woman. Barely possible for most men, in fact. I admit, I am confused. I would like to think that had it been me in your place, I would have acquitted myself as well. I am one of the best swordsmen in Lenayin, I know this with all my heart… and yet the artistry with which those men died was… truly amazing."

Spirits help him, Sasha thought, he was trying. What he admitted was surely no easy thing. "The serrin know many ancient arts," Sasha told him, somewhat more gently. "The svaalverd is not invulnerable by any means, but when taught by the very best to a capable pupil… well, I have options in a fight that my opponents do not."

"I said your ways do not frighten me, and I mean it," Jaryd said determinedly. "I am a swordsman, I can only admire such talent, however unexpected. But I should warn you, M'Lady… I know others who feel differently."

"I know…" Sasha began, but Jaryd had not finished.

"Noble men," he said, "my relations amongst them. They have long resented Kessligh's influence with the king. And they speak ill of serrin and Nasi-Keth alike."

"Kessligh has little enough influence with the king these days," said Sasha. "And noble Verenthanes have always resented or disliked me for one reason or another. But thank you for the warning. Is there some particular reason I should be worried?"

Jaryd's silence did not help her nerves. Events were in motion, and clearly the lords saw an impending war as an opportunity for self-advancement. War against the serrin would sever all the king's remaining ties with Kessligh and the Nasi-Keth. If it was a chance to get rid of him, then it was surely a chance to get rid of her. She recalled Kessligh's grim warning at the Steltsyn Star, and suffered a shiver that had nothing to do with the chill night air.

"A part of me looks forward to this war," Jaryd said. "The holy war to reclaim the Saalshen Bacosh from the serrin. You would feel differently, I suppose?"

"Saalshen took that land because they were attacked," Sasha replied. "They never started the conflict, they only finished it. The Saalshen Bacosh is formidable because it is defended by armies of humans and serrin. Most humans seem happy there, and they fight ferociously to defend their lands from the so-called liberators. If Lenayin went, we'd be just another bloody invader. Is that what you want?"

"Those lands are holy," Jaryd countered, though he sounded less than certain. "I am Verenthane, and the places where the faith was born are occupied by those who do not belong. Any young man wishing for adventure would welcome the chance to ride on such a crusade. And many Goeren-yai I've spoken to said they would welcome a great war, Lenayin has always been a land of warriors, but the Liberation brought peace. Too much peace for many, I think."

"Serrin did not travel as much to western provinces like Isfayen," said Sasha. "Goeren-yai to the west may have no trouble fighting serrin, but the story is different here." She paused. "But you said only a part of you. What of the other part?"

Jaryd sighed. "I've never been interested in the things that my father and uncles love. Wealth and power, more lands, more taxes. They complain endlessly that the nobility has little true power and that the king saves all the authority for himself, and they expect me to be equally outraged…"