Emerging from the temple in the late evening, the Regent's army was still filing past and paying their respects. Such a volume of men surely could not lose. Satisfied, Koenyg stretched stiff shoulders, gathered his lords about him from the crowd emerging from the temple, and walked down the steps toward where their horses were stabled at the neighbouring monastery…when suddenly the street erupted in flame.
Koenyg fell, as men all about fell, hands up to ward off the glare and heat. And then it was fading, Koenyg lifting himself from the steps as huge clouds of smoke boiled upward into the overcast sky. Buildings all up the street were aflame, as were hundreds of men. They ran screaming, falling on the ground, as others leaped forward with coats to smother them. Horses galloped in terror, threw their riders, and a cart team went hurtling through crowds, as more men scattered.
“Hellfire,” Lord Heryd said grimly, regaining his feet.
“Kessligh,” Koenyg muttered. “One might have thought our allies would have enough wits to search the buildings along their route of advance.”
“He fights dishonourably,” another lord observed. “To be expected, from one who fights with the demons.”
“He fights to win,” said Koenyg, watching as flailing, burning men ceased their struggles and fell still. “There is more honour in victory than defeat. He would like me to underestimate him, as some of our allies do. I shall not.”
EIGHT
Sasha wanted to move, but General Rochan had other ideas. In a great intermingling, the Enoran and Lenay armies made a temporary camp across the fields by the road, while commanders from both forces gathered on the grassy ridge beneath a wide oak tree, and debated.
They had barely begun when a new party of cavalry arrived, thirty strong and mixed equally between Nasi-Keth, talmaad, Enoran, and Rhodaani. Most paused on the camp's perimeter, while a few continued through the throng of Lenay and Enoran men who talked, shared food, and laughed. Sasha got up to watch them approach, suspecting, but barely daring to hope.
Leading the horsemen was Kessligh. He dismounted by the oak, strode to her, and embraced her. Strangely, Sasha did not feel any tears. Instead, she felt satisfaction.
“I had a feeling,” Kessligh said warmly. “When I let you go from Tracato. I had a feeling it would lead to this.”
“I have a feeling the Army of Lenayin would have chosen this path even without me,” said Sasha.
“Perhaps,” said Kessligh. “Or perhaps they would simply have turned and marched home. But they knew you would never do so.”
“They know this is their fight,” Sasha said simply. “This is a fight for Rhodia, and coming here, they realise for the first time that Lenayin is a part of Rhodia. This war determines Lenayin's fate as much as any other. That much of my father's war they agree with. They merely disagree with him on the matter of sides.”
Rhillian was there also, with a quick embrace, and then Sasha saw Aisha, with a cheerful smile, and that embrace was longer. Then there were some Nasi-Keth friends from the Tol'rhen in Tracato, including Daish, a young, freckle-faced lad with a mischievous tongue, and Sasha hugged him too.
And finally, amidst the other greetings as the party was welcomed by Enorans and Lenays alike, she saw Errollyn. He leaned on his huge bow, and gazed at her. Sasha smiled back. She put her hands on her hips, and raised her eyebrows, as though to ask, “Where have you been?” His faintly exasperated smile replied, “Waiting for you.” Sasha laughed. She ran at him, and grabbed him fiercely.
“Isn't it odd,” he murmured, “that as du'jannah, I do not feel the unspoken pull of my fellow serrin, yet with you, I need no words?”
“Odd is one word for it,” said Sasha, and kissed him. That lingered, forcefully. Sasha broke away with effort, and noticed that nearby men were watching, some grinning, others astonished. Surely gossip had told of her serrin lover, yet now they saw it for real. “I'm sorry, we can't do this here.”
“I know,” said Errollyn. “It's hard for you to hold their respect when one of those who follows you is fucking you.”
Sasha gave him an incredulous stare. Then grinned as Errollyn laughed.
“Oh, they won't mind that,” she said dismissively, “they know I'm wild.” She had spent the past weeks wishing nothing more than to lose herself in his arms, but now that the opportunity presented, this was all she could manage. It mattered not, he was here now, and they were on the same side once more. He seemed different, though. As though a darkness clung to him, somewhere behind the smile. But the leadership group was re-forming, and she had no time to query further.
They resumed their places in a circle beneath the oak, where stones fallen from paddock walls had been rolled into place. Damon was there, nursing wounded ribs and in obvious pain. He claimed that pain had prevented him from the jolting gallop to the head of the column, but it did not explain why he had not ridden out with Sasha to face General Rochan. Sasha suspected other reasons.
“Where have you been?” General Rochan asked Kessligh.
“Shemorane,” said Kessligh. “We arranged an ambush of sorts for the Regent, I think we may have cost them close to a thousand. A large part of the town was set afire to do it, but I think it worth the price.”
“You didn't burn down the High Temple after all?” Sasha asked. “Andreyis went to some lengths to save it.”
“No,” said Kessligh. “The flames were too far away, and the roofs all wet. The Regent's soldiers will have put it out before it spread.”
“Good,” said Rochan. “You cause them further confusion. We should stand here, before they resume their march.”
“No,” said Kessligh. “We have not the strength.”
“We concede too much to them already!” Rochan retorted. “They have lost three-quarters of the Army of Lenayin, while we have gained them. We are outnumbered no more than three to one and we have triumphed against worse odds than that before.”
“Our scouts intercepted a messenger,” said Rhillian. “He was Kazeri.”
“Kazeri?”
“The Kazeri were divided,” Rhillian said grimly. “There have been those amongst them who campaign for closer ties to the new, greater Bacosh. Verenthane Kazeri, much as in Lenayin. A few weeks back it seems the Verenthanes won, and the horsemen of Kazerak ride to the Regent's aid. Kazerak is a land of horsemen. The messenger was adamant on forty thousand.”
There was silence about the circle. Sasha only knew tales of Kazerak. It was huge, with hot summers and wide plains where little grew but grass. Its people were nomads, mostly horsemen, who fought largely amongst themselves. There were said to be many Kazeri, but no one knew precisely how many, because they had few towns and no cities. In past centuries, the priests had made inroads for the Verenthane faith, and Kazeri warlords had embraced the gods. There had been talk of Kazeri warlords riding to assist the Regent in his war, but no one had known for certain.
“All the more reason to stand and fight here,” said Rochan, unmoved. “If we beat the Regent first, we can stand and face the Kazeri before they join forces. Better to fight two smaller forces than one large one.”
“Except that neither force is small,” said Kessligh. “Both are larger than us…”
“Size has nothing to do with it.”
“…and should we gain a victory against the Regent,” Kessligh continued, “it shall cost us so dearly that the force which stands to face the Kazeri will have little chance of victory. The Kazeri are fast and skillful cavalry-neither the talmaad nor artillery gains us much advantage against them.”