Joel Shepherd - Sasha

"But… the Shereldin Star?" Sasha remembered the kettle in her hand, and put it down before the fireplace. "Isn't that that stupid artefact all the Verenthanes rave about?"

"The holiest relic of Verenthanes," Aiden said solemnly. And Sasha realised in a flash that Aiden, like most of the Petrodor Nasi-Keth, was most likely Verenthane. She'd probably offended him, she thought, and chided herself for not minding her tongue. Kessligh had renounced all other faiths in the pursuit of serrin teachings. But for most lowlanders, faith was not so easily cast aside. "I have spoken with serrin, they say Rhillian did not want the star. I think they tell truth, here. We think Rhillian only means to warn the archbishop. Some things the serrin will not take lying down."

"And what was the archbishop doing with the Shereldin Star? Isn't that…" and she paused, and something cold and worrisome occurred to her. "Isn't that in the possession of the Larosa?"

Again, Aiden nodded, sombrely. "It was. The Larosa have had many wars against the Saalshen Bacosh. They want the Verenthane holy lands back. They want to unite the Bacosh under a single king and throw the serrin out. They swore, two centuries ago, that the Shereldin Star would one day be returned to the holy lands, but only when the serrin are gone.

"The Larosa give the archbishop the star so that all Torovan will unite beneath him and fight with the Larosa."

"And now the Larosa are here!" Sasha exclaimed. Her heart thumped unpleasantly in her chest. "Someone at the inn said a large group just arrived in Baen-Tar!"

"The last piece in the puzzle," Kessligh said tiredly. "The armies of the Saalshen Bacosh are formidable. All the remaining Bacosh provinces are uniting under the Larosa. But it's not enough. A Torovan army is useful for numbers, but Torovans have never been noted fighters. What the Larosa want from the archbishop is the loyalty of the Petrodor families, and all their money. Petrodor might not be much in a fight, but they can pay for a huge army, Sasha, of far more than just Torovans. The archbishop will convince them to pay, for the sake of their souls.

"Still, even Torovan and Larosan armies together are insufficient. They need Lenayin. And by the looks of things, they're going to get Lenayin."

"And I've just been sitting in a large room filled with Goeren-yai warriors who have always insisted that they'll never fight against the serrin!" Sasha replied. "Not even should the king command it!"

She could feel the pieces of the puzzle clicking together. Suddenly, it was all making sense… and what she saw frightened her. All because some stupid Verenthanes couldn't stand the serrin living on what had once been human lands. Now, their intolerance threatened Lenayin with civil uprising and disaster.

"Now you see the scale of it," said Kessligh, with tired exasperation. "Now you see what I've been telling you all these years. These foreign matters, these things you dismiss as unimportant, can rise up and destroy your world, Sasha. It is all connected. Your father now seeks to align Lenayin with what he sees as the destiny of the Verenthanes. That means supporting their war."

"Well then we have to stop him!" Sasha exclaimed. "You… you still have influence left with father, you were his Commander of Armies for eighteen years, for heavens' sake! He listened to you! This Rathynal, we must ride to Baen-Tar and convince him not to join the Larosa!"

"I'm not riding to Baen-Tar," said Kessligh. "I'll be riding to Petrodor." Sasha simply stared at him. She could not think of anything to say. "The game has changed, Sasha. Lenayin will march to war, it can't be stopped. What can be saved is the Nasi-Keth. Alden brings news that the factions have split. Some favour Rhillian; others disagree and seek a path separate from Rhillian's influence.

"Petrodor is the key to stopping this war, Sasha. Without Petrodor's wealth, the war will not happen. And the Nasi-Keth are the key to Petrodor-united, they are the only power in Petrodor capable of restraining the families. I cannot allow them to become divided. They need me now. I cannot wait, or things will be worse."

Sasha continued staring. She felt as if the very ground had disappeared from under her. Her ears could not believe what they were hearing. "And what about Lenayin?" she breathed, incredulously. "Do all your loyalties to Lenayin just… disappear?"

Kessligh frowned, his jaw tightening. "I have given thirty years of my life to Lenayin. I swore allegiance to your father, yet I never claimed to be anything other than what I am-Nasi-Keth. I cannot ignore that calling any more than your father can ignore the callings of the Verenthane holy fathers from Petrodor. And I won't."

Tears sprang to Sasha's eyes. Kessligh was Lenay. Of foreign origin, surely… but in many ways, he was Lenayin. The greatest Lenay warrior. And she, his uma. Now, he was casting it all aside, as one might throw aside a peel once the fruit was eaten. She couldn't believe it.

Kessligh sat forward on his chair, his expression intense. "Sasha, think!" he demanded. "Of all the serrin teachings I've told you, of all the things you know! Broaden your vision, Sasha! The important thing is to stop this damned war from happening! I can do that! In Petrodor!"

"If civil war takes Lenayin," Sasha said with difficulty, "countless lives will be lost. Towns like Baerlyn will be destroyed, perhaps Baerlyn itself, and all its people killed. I know enough Lenay history to know what our civil wars look like. You would just abandon them to this fate?"

"Damn fool, you're not listening to me…"

"It'll be too late!" Sasha yelled at him, coming abruptly to her feet. "You go off to play your power games in the alleys of Petrodor

… there's trouble brewing here now! You may save the serrin, and you may save the Nasi-Keth, but Lenayin shall be ashes! What were your last thirty years here for, if you just run away when Lenayin needs you most? What were your last twelve years with nae for?"

"You are my uma," Kessligh said simply. The firelight cast his features into rumpled, hard-edged shadow, an animation they could never acquire on their own. "You must come with me to Petrodor."

Sasha felt something snap. This betrayal was too much. She could have struck him. "Damned if I will!" she yelled. "I promised Krayliss I'd be at Rathynal, and I won't give him free rein in Baen-Tar to cause trouble without me! You go to Petrodor! You go there, and you rot there, with your beloved Nasi-Keth! Me, I'm Lenay, and I'll never abandon my people! Never!"

"But Daryd!" Rysha complained. "Mama said we're not allowed beyond the trees!"

Daryd ignored her, as was an elder brother's right, his eyes searching through the forest. Essey's breath plumed in white clouds, brilliant in the golden sunshine that fell through the treetops. Sunlight gleamed on wet trunks and undergrowth, low and bright in the early morning. To the right through the trees rose the Aralya Range-Hadryn lands, and a barrier before the lands of Valhanan. Essey found her way easily enough, nimble hooves picking through the bracken.

"Daryd!" Rysha protested from her seat at his back. "We'll get in trouble!"

"We've picked all the good stuff from the treeline," Daryd replied. "There'll be more growing along the river."

"But we'll get lost!"

"How can we get lost?" Daryd asked in exasperation. "The river's just over on the left, the mountains are on the right, how can anyone get lost?"

He'd been feeling very confident of late, ever since he'd bested Salyl Wyden in the Hemys Festival contest. Salyl Wyden had twelve summers and was a bully. He, Daryd, had only ten summers, but he was good with a stanch. The best his age in all Udalyn, his father claimed, with obvious pride. It made Daryd's chest swell to think on it. Perhaps at the Festival of Rass, he could prove it. The Udalyn Valley was long, and many families lived there. Rass was a bigger festival than Hemys and all the valley would attend. Then, surely, he could prove his father's claims. Until then, he would settle for being the best his age in the town of Ymoth beyond the valley mouth. Better than the bully Salyl Wyden, anyhow.