“Magnificent,” he pronounced. He placed the globe in a safe belt pouch and turned his attention to the dress. Serrin women did not wear dresses any more than serrin men did. Those robes were called ki'jo, to be worn indoors and at leisure by serrin of either sex. But this was clearly a dress, as human women wore, and tailored to a woman's shape. Why would serrin make such a thing?
“For the Jahndis,” he guessed, lifting the dress across an arm. The fabric felt like silk, yet it was interwoven with golden thread, and in no simple pattern either. These patterns were like flowers, curling and intricate, gold lines through rose-red fabric. “This is also impossible,” he said with wonder. “How do they make such arts? Even in Tracato I have not seen the likes of this. It must be worth a fortune. I am surprised the Lenays have not taken them.”
“The men of Northern Lenayin are not here for loot. They fight for the holy cause, and will regard such objects as cursed.”
“So the serrin have abandoned their town, but left such objects as these for us to find.” Alfriedo gazed across the lake. “Do they seek to make peace?”
“I think they merely wish to be remembered,” Zulmaher said sombrely.
Alfriedo gazed up at his mentor. He gave him the dress to examine, and leaned upon the railing. Below, the water was thick with lilies.
“Do you believe the serrin are evil?” he asked the general.
“No,” said Zulmaher. “But I did not believe the Elissians were evil, and I made war upon them all the same. It was necessary, for Rhodaan. As this is necessary, for the same.”
“I have read on many of the things that were suggested to me by Kessligh Cronenverdt, since we met.”
“I would not place too much store by the word of Kessligh Cronenverdt,” Zulmaher said warily.
“He challenged me to consider my position. A brave man does not shirk a challenge. And I should not like a Lenay warrior of his station to think me a coward.”
“My lord is no coward.”
“No,” Alfriedo agreed. “He said that Rhodaan's rulers have not always been wise and just. The serrin have many books and records that do suggest so, and that much of what my mother taught me of the history of my illustrious family is not true.”
“The Family Renine has always ruled fairly.”
“Always?” Alfriedo frowned up at Zulmaher. “Always is a long time.”
“And Saalshen's councils of the past two centuries have been scarcely more just.”
“A different matter,” said Alfriedo. “Kessligh told me that men losing an argument always change the subject.” Zulmaher was displeased. “My family has not always ruled wisely, this is plain. Brave men, and wise men who aspire to leadership, must be prepared to separate their personal desires from their quest for truth. The two are not the same, he said.”
“It is very difficult,” Zulmaher said acerbically, “to argue against both you and Kessligh Cronenverdt, particularly when he is not here.”
“Oh, I think he is,” Alfriedo replied with a faint smile. He pointed beyond the lake, to the west. “Just down the valley, in fact. We'll meet him shortly, and regret it.”
Alfriedo and Zulmaher returned to where armoured riders waited, holding their horses, mounted, and rejoined the road. They made greater speed through the rest of Tormae, and emerged into the beginnings of the Dhemerhill Valley. There awaited the Holy Army of Rhodaan, as it was now called. They had needed to call it something, as the only army Rhodaan had known in the past two centuries had been the Rhodaani Steel, and they fought now on the other side.
All the men were mounted, and stood in ranks as Alfriedo, Zulmaher, and their accompanying lords approached. These were the great families of Tracato and Rhodaan, now restored to nobility by the Regent's victory. Their banners flew high against the green of the valley walls, and to a man they sat proudly in the saddle. Most had dreamed of this day since they were old enough to understand the tales their parents told them, of god-given entitlements unfairly stolen, and of destinies to be fulfilled. Alfriedo shared their joy and pride in part, for it was his own, born in him as it was in them from the moment he was old enough to understand his mother's stories. And yet the cost had been immense. He did miss the serrin libraries of Tracato. And in light of what he had lately been challenged to read, he rather missed the serrin themselves.
Ahead of the Rhodaanis massed Torovan cavalry. All who had come along the forest road were cavalry, as foot soldiers would have taken too long, and been exposed to serrin ambush at night camp in the forests. The Torovans gathered in their various provinces, none of which seemed to enjoy each other's company. Many Torovans had fought with the Army of Lenayin in the Battle of Shero Valley, and some Alfriedo had spoken with were resentful that the Lenays had used them more as a reserve, save for some heavy cavalry action on one flank. Others were exasperated that the Lenays, their previous allies, had divided against themselves, as though such an event were as predictable as dogs fighting over a bone.
Somewhere further ahead of the Torovans, lost amongst the trees, were a huge mass of Kazeri. No one understood the Kazeri. They had nomadic tribes, and many had grown up travelling grassy plains, and fighting other Kazeri tribes. Some now claimed the Verenthane faith, and the great Kazeri chiefs allied themselves with the Chansul of Meraine, to the disgust of the Regent's closer allies. Meraine had fought Larosa for as many centuries as humans could remember, and now the Meraini brought the Kazeri onside to strengthen their position. The Chansul of Meraine also claimed that Ilduur would not participate in the defence of Jahnd. Without Ilduur, Jahnd's defenders would be outnumbered by a ridiculous margin, and surely their defence would be very short indeed. Such a victory could be claimed as a great victory for the Chansul and Meraine, to the Regent's further displeasure. Some already spoke of a possible war to follow this one, as Balthaar asserted his dominance over the upstart Meraini Chansul.
But the Army of Northern Lenayin did not rate the Kazeri as warriors. The Army of Northern Lenayin, in truth, did not rate any who were not Lenay as warriors. King Koenyg now led the advance, far ahead up the valley, and warned that the outer defence of mounted serrin archers would be best faced by his horsemen alone. Many further back in the column grumbled, but few with any force. The northerners were not many, no more than six thousand. King Koenyg's self-opinion was vast, for a man whose primary force had abandoned him to humiliation. Few here would mind to see the talmaad cut him down to size a little.
Errollyn waited. He could hear the riders coming, a great, thundering wall of noise across the Dhemerhill Valley. Trees broke any line of sight across the valley fields, with trails and farmhouses making a patchwork unsuitable for any single, massed formation.
About him, talmaad steadied their horses and readied their bows. There were several hundred here, hidden behind trees on the lower slope of the northern valley slope. Behind more trees, several hundred strides ahead, were Enoran cavalry. Thus were Jahnd's cavalry forces dispersed across the eastern valley, divided into small groups, and hidden, at least initially. Further east, the Regent's advancing forces would have encountered the first such group, and been encouraged by their lack of numbers. That drew them into a pursuit, much favoured by talmaad cavalry. Smart commanders amongst the enemy cavalry would surely recognise the tactic, and perhaps prevent their forces from charging headlong into the obvious ambush. But could they stop their hot-blooded men in a roaring charge?