“No, you look good,” Jaryd managed. “Nice stones.” Meaning the jewellery. “And the, um, other stuff.”
“What the hells was Sasha thinking to send you?” Sofy retorted.
“Damon's idea too, and Koenyg agreed.”
“Aye, couldn't be happier to be rid of you, I'm sure.”
Sister Mardola cleared her throat. “The gentleman will kindly speak in a lowland tongue in my prescence,” she announced. They had of course been speaking Lenay.
Jaryd frowned at the sister. “Who's the old bat?” he asked Sofy in their native tongue.
Sofy rolled her eyes in exasperation. “The gentleman does not speak a lowlands tongue,” she lied. “I will speak with him as we can both understand.”
She gestured impatiently for Jaryd to come and sit on a leather-upholstered chair. Sister Mardola followed, and maids rushed to attend them, and offer drinks, fruit, and biscuits. Jaryd accepted all, hungry as ever, with more disbelieving mirth at all the activity.
“Well, this is a lovely arrangement,” he remarked.
“Will you just stop it?” Sofy retorted. It didn't help that he looked so…well, good, she admitted to herself in frustration. His eyes were alive with unreasonable cheer for these circumstances. Seeing him so carefree, she could feel resentment building. “Why are you here?”
“Because neither Sasha nor Damon feels particularly comfortable with you being here all alone.”
“As you can see,” Sofy said coldly, “I am very far from alone.”
Jaryd glanced about, and sipped his tea. “That's a matter of opinion.”
“Jaryd, I don't know what you think you're doing here, but I'm on a very important mission. Tracato is a treasure, and I intend to see it saved. I hear the Lord Alfriedo Renine is being proclaimed the new lord of all Rhodaan and Tracato, and I hear that he is a very intelligent boy. I will negotiate with him and I will find a way to bring him and all of Rhodaan into my husband's fold, with as little damage to all parties as possible.”
Jaryd's expression sobered a little. “And what does Prince Dafed say about this?”
Sofy smoothed the dress in her lap. “Dafed is a warrior,” she said. “He will negotiate military matters. He has little interest in other things.”
She was not pleased that Balthaar's brother Dafed had come too. He was not pleased, either, to be sent away from the advancing army in order to collect this trophy for his brother's new crown. But Tracato was close to Elisse, and the Elissians had not been destroyed as a fighting force in the recent war against Rhodaan. There were alliances to forge, and Dafed was here to forge them, then to lead the Elissians south, to rejoin Balthaar in his advance. Dafed, Sofy was reasonably sure, would not get in her way.
Jaryd shook his head in faint disbelief. “Sofy, your husband's priests want all of this destroyed. You've ridden in the Bacosh column, you've seen what even the common soldiers are doing to Rhodaan….”
“They appeared quite restrained from what I saw.”
In an instant, Jaryd's good humour vanished. He regarded her with something she had not seen him direct at her before. Not quite contempt, but a distinct lack of respect. Perhaps pity.
“It may look that way from safe within your gilded cage,” he said coolly. “I can assure you otherwise.”
Sofy felt cold. She looked about in distraction, and hugged her shawl closer. And suddenly, in desperation, she came to the edge of her chair. “Oh, Jaryd, I know it's hard! These two peoples, they've been separated by so much hatred and mistrust for so long…but I have to try, Jaryd! I've always been a good peacemaker, I've done it between my siblings, I've sometimes even done it between Lenay lords, and they're no easy mark. Surely I can find some common ground between my husband's new rule, and the old ways of Rhodaan…and possibly Enora and Ilduur too one day!”
Jaryd sighed. He nodded to her jewellery, and the Idys Mark on her forehead. “You observe the Idys too. The old Lenay ways.”
Sofy nodded enthusiastically. “There was some opposition, but I told them that whatever my new title, I am Lenay and I shall practise the old Lenay traditions also. All new Lenay brides observe the Idys, and I shall too.”
The Idys Mark was a dark oval spot on her forehead, in the shape of an eye. The Idys was one of the old spirits, thought to bring fertility and wisdom alike.
“Do you see, Jaryd?” she continued. “I'm trying to bring peoples and customs together. I am Princess Regent of the Bacosh, and I observe their customs, yet I am also a princess of Lenayin. I can show by example that two such different peoples and cultures can exist side by side. And if I can bring that example to Tracato, perhaps I can save that great treasure, and it can enlighten all of the Bacosh and far beyond!”
Jaryd said nothing. Sofy did not think that she had convinced him. But she could see that he was not surprised at her passion, and indeed, wore that familiar look of wry defeat. He knew her so well. Perhaps it would not be a bad thing to have him on this trip after all.
“And how about you?” she asked more kindly. “You've been spending a lot more time amongst the Goeren-yai of late. Do you feel yourself a true Goeren-yai now?”
Jaryd shrugged. “I don't know,” he sighed. “And that's the wonderful thing about it.” Sofy frowned, not understanding. Jaryd smiled. “No one cares. My Goeren-yai comrades, they don't quiz me about my beliefs, they don't threaten to expel me if I don't know all the words to their tales or all the beats to their rhythm. They know me as a warrior and as a man, and that's enough for them.”
“But there are many customs and practices amongst the Goeren-yai,” Sofy pressed. Jaryd could be so naive in his lack of understanding these complexities, and she was suddenly worried. “If you are to call yourself Goeren-yai and be accepted by them, you must take their beliefs and customs seriously, Jaryd….”
“I take it as seriously as they do,” Jaryd said with amusement. “The ancient ways aren't about reciting this text or that song, it's about heart.” He rapped himself on his armoured chest. “I may not have much, but I have that.”
“So you're happy then?”
“I think I am. I don't miss all of this shit, I can tell you that.” He nodded toward the temporary shrine. Sister Mardola cleared her throat, disapprovingly. She did not understand his words, but she knew a look of contempt when she saw one. Jaryd ignored her. “Sofy, you can't change the world, you know. Some people are shit. You can't make them nice by setting a good example.”
“Jaryd, you Lenay men always think that violence is the only solution to everything. Why don't we try ending hatred with love for a change, instead of always using swords?”
“Because it doesn't work,” said Jaryd, unruffled. “Men don't plough fields because they're violent to the soil, men plough fields because lovingly asking the soils to part does nothing. Besides which, it's not only Lenay men who think so, there's Yasmyn, and Sasha.”
“Both of whom could use a little more feminine sensibility,” Sofy sniffed.
“And where would that have gotten Sasha or the Udalyn against the Hadryn?”
Sofy rolled her eyes. “The serrin agree with me,” she said stubbornly.
“Aye, they did-look where it's gotten them. Backs to the wall and a sword at their throat. They showered these lands with love and your husband repaid them with invasion and slaughter.”
Sofy found herself blinking back angry tears. Jaryd was from that other life, the one now lost to her. It wasn't fair that he should come here and do this to her. She had to make this life work, but he, apparently content in the other, kept crossing that divide and shattering all her carefully constructed dreams.
Jaryd left the Princess Regent's tent in frustration, and made his way back to his camp. Knights stood in full armour about the tent, and would do so all night in shifts. Jaryd did not envy them, just suiting up could take such men an age. The rest of the camp was clatter and activity, and far too many servants and wagons for Jaryd's liking. There was a firm perimeter set against any serrin attack, and they camped in the middle of a wide field so none could sneak up on them. But if the serrin were to attack in force, he did not know if there were enough defenders to stop them, and all these cooks and maids would not help.