The group galloped past, and Sasha saw that the girl was Yasmyn, her eyes blazing with triumph. It felt wrong to smile at something so uncivilised. But Sasha found herself grinning.
“I almost don't want to ask,” said the Rayen man she'd been talking to, “but whose head was that?”
“Elias Assineth,” Sasha said cheerfully. “Cousin to the Regent.”
“You must have eyes like a serrin to see his face.”
“I didn't,” said Sasha. “But nothing else could make Markan's sister so happy. And Elias was commanding the forces that attacked the Pirene. She must have charged him.”
As the last stragglers broke into a run across the fields so as not to be left behind, Sasha finally returned to the road. There marched the Army of Lenayin, its battle order now a total mess, with provinces mixed together, men from south, west, and east walking or riding toward the south. Sasha rode through the fields beside the road, and at the crest of a hill, gained a sight of the road ahead. The column wound through the deepening gloom, into the heart of Enora. Men of central Tyree and Baen-Tar, of eastern Taneryn and Valhanan, of southern Rayen and Neysh, of eastern Isfayen, Yethulyn, and Fyden. Only the northerners of Ranash, Banneryd, and Hadryn were missing.
Soon she found Damon and a group of nobles on a hillside, watching the army pass. Sasha hugged him, and learned of his battle with Koenyg. He was in pain from his wounded side, yet seemed somehow triumphant. The nobles numbered thirty, from various provinces, and said they knew of as many again who rode elsewhere in the column. It was only a small portion of the total nobility, most of whom had stayed with Koenyg. Many of them watched Sasha warily, as though wondering who was now truly in charge-Damon or his sister. Sasha did not think that a question she was ready to answer.
Again she remounted her horse, and rode for the head of the column. And again she was halted, as someone on a cart amidst marching warriors yelled her name. Sasha peered, as the voice was familiar…and her heart stopped as she saw who it was.
She urged her horse to jump a low wall beside the road, then reined alongside the cart and leaped aboard. She hugged Andreyis, and burst into tears. Andreyis hugged her back, cheerfully, then introduced her to the other wounded men in the cart. Sasha barely took in anything, demanding again and again to know how he was not dead as she'd feared.
He told her, as a serrin girl riding alongside took the reins of Sasha's horse. The girl held the reins of one other horse that Andreyis claimed was now his, a gift from the monks for saving the High Temple. And that was a tale, which he told with relish, his young face alive with an odd combination of enthusiasm and confidence that she could not recall ever having seen in him before. Sasha listened, and every word was acknowledged by the men in the cart. One in particular proclaimed Andreyis a great hero, and that man, to Sasha's amazement was named Hydez, a Hadryn Verenthane. Sasha told him he was now probably the only Hadryn in the column. Hydez replied that his honour demanded he fight at Andreyis's side.
Sasha would happily have spent all evening in the cart, but with the darkness falling, she had to get to the head of the column. First she asked for Tomli, who had been riding with the supply wagons. He'd been safe there, but would be safer here, in the company of warriors. Sasha was not willing to leave him behind with anyone, with the Regent's army still in pursuit. Then she reclaimed her horse from the serrin girl, whose name was Yshel, and had been originally tasked to bring the Lenay prisoners to Shemorane. Now, as events brought the prisoners back into the Lenay Army, she had decided to follow.
“Would my young friend with the wounded arm have anything to do with that decision?” Sasha teased her in Saalsi, yet with real interest.
“My path and his coincide,” Yshel admitted.
“Or perhaps entwine?” Sasha suggested. And she could have sworn that even in the fading light, she saw the serrin girl blush.
At the column's head, Sasha found a gathering of captains, village headmen, and a few lords. No one seemed to know who was in charge. All seemed greatly relieved to see Sasha as darkness fell, and the column continued through undulating fields. Sasha ordered scouts and cavalry to fall back, to give warning in case they were approached from the rear by Bacosh cavalry. None disputed her order. Sasha did not think a threat from behind at all likely-an army the size of the Army of the Free Bacosh (or whatever they were calling it now) was exceptionally difficult to manoeuvre at night, particularly in lands where the night was owned by forces hostile to their presence. Some lanterns and torches were brought to the head of the column, and some others lit further back, or carried by roadside sentries on horseback. Cloud and occasional rain made for a dark night, yet so long as the column held to the road, all would be good for now.
Rhillian arrived from across black fields in a rush of hooves and reined in at Sasha's side. “The Enoran Steel has encamped at a river ahead,” she said. “If you march all night, you should be there in the morning.”
Sasha nodded. “It's a good road. I think we can forgo one night's sleep. Why have the Steel stopped?”
“We hear there is some dissension. Some commanders say that with the Regent's advance halted in Shemorane, the advantage is with the defenders once again.”
“Idiots,” Sasha muttered. “The Enorans beat us, but they were mauled. I'll reckon the Rhodaanis are even worse after they lost. The Regent still has more than a hundred thousand, and I'll bet further that Koenyg will attach the northerners to that army as a new heavy cavalry formation. The Steel remains massively outnumbered, and the land here is perfect for cavalry and flanking manoeuvres, which takes their artillery out of play-their biggest advantage.”
“The previous plan was to head for Jahnd,” said Rhillian. Sasha nodded, having suspected as much. Jahnd seemed more a place of legend than a real city. No one knew precisely how old it was, some speculated a few centuries, others far longer. It lay on the far bank of the Ipshaal River from Enora, on the Saalshen side of the border, in the foothills of the Ilduuri Mountains. It was the only place in serrin lands where humans lived, a city that had long been a refuge for humans escaped across the river from the tyrannies of their kind.
Serrin, quite predictably, had been unable to reach consensus about sending such humans back to persecution and murder, yet were unwilling to allow humanity free range within Saalshen. So they had established a city on a tributary of the Ipshaal, within which those humans had made a colony. Over the centuries, that colony had grown into a large city, about which far more fantastic tales were known than facts. What was undisputed was that the city had been called Jahnd. In Enoran, the word meant “haven.”
“And Saalshen is happy to be holding the last defence of the Saalshen Bacosh on serrin land?” Sasha asked.
“Saalshen's opinion is unknowable,” said Rhillian. “If by Saalshen you mean me, then yes, I think the option is best. Jahnd is protected by the Ipshaal and the Ilduuri Mountains. And we both know that the Regent shall cross the Ipshaal in time, whether we lead him there or not. You've seen how he cleanses these lands of serrin, and any trace of Saalshen's influence upon humanity. He seeks to purify humanity of us. Jahnd shall not be allowed to stand one way or another. And once Jahnd falls, Saalshen lies before him.”
“How are Jahnd's defences?”
“It is protected on three sides by mountains…not a perfect defence, but rough terrain and favouring the defender. It has walls, which serrin told the earliest humans were not necessary, yet those humans had suffered persecution, and were terrified that their old lords would cross the Ipshaal and attack them. So they built high walls, to defend against an attack that never came. Until now.”