“Not all!” Alfriedo repeated, more angrily still. Zulmaher gave him a reprimanding look, as though from an uncle to an unruly nephew.
“Most of us are patriots,” Zulmaher resumed. “We wanted more rights, but not at the expense of Rhodaani freedom. Now our army is defeated, and some nobility regard this a terrible defeat, while others rejoice as though our salvation descends upon us from heaven.”
“The Army of the Bacosh may be many things,” Jaryd said darkly. “Salvation from heaven it's not.”
“Lord Alfriedo shall declare his rights before the Regent,” Zulmaher continued, “and to judge by the noises the Regent has been making about the restoration of rightful claims, it would be in his interest to grant it. Declaring all Rhodaani land void of noble title will only start a struggle for power amongst all his other allies who will want to claim it, and the Regent can ill afford that disunity now. By declaring old Rhodaani title legal from before the serrin came, he gains new allies here and keeps his existing ones from squabbling over spoils.”
“Exactly what is Prince Dafed asking?” Jaryd asked. Within the confines of Sofy's court, he had heard only rumour.
“Just the problem,” said Zulmaher. “Prince Dafed has little idea about Tracato, not our history, nor how all our institutions work. He is a warrior. Our lords now ask him what we should do with so many of our grand institutions, and he just shrugs and tells us to work it out for ourselves.”
“Well…that's good, yes?” Jaryd asked cautiously.
“It makes them bicker,” Alfriedo said shortly. “The Rhodaani lords cannot agree. Some argue to retain something like a council, so the common folk may be heard. Others wish to dispose of the Tol'rhen and Mahl'rhen. But if we get rid of all serrin influence, what will happen to all my books?”
Jaryd did not think he meant it quite so selfishly.
“For so long we have viewed these institutions as anchors about our necks, holding us down,” said Zulmaher. “Now we face the prospect of losing them for good, and instead of making us happy, it makes us feel naked.”
“Some of us,” Alfriedo interjected once more. “The others, I cannot understand. I will not be sad to see Tracato without a council or a Justiciary; both were corrupt houses of pointless argument and little else. The rule of lords is far more just and efficient. But imagine if we truly tried to cleanse the city of serrin influence. Every second building would have to be demolished, they taught us much of the architecture. All of the schools. All of the arts, the craft markets, the amphitheatre with all of its plays so influenced by the serrin writers and philosophers. The libraries!”
The young lord looked unhappy. Somehow, Jaryd found himself smiling.
“You sound just like Sofy,” he said.
“Yes,” Alfriedo said indignantly, “well, I am most pleased that your princess shares my concerns for my city, but it is quite a different thing for a foreigner to worry about these things and for the Lord of Rhodaan to worry about them.”
“Sofy is the Princess Regent now,” said Jaryd. “She does not see that she is a foreigner. These are her lands, and believe me, you could do much worse.”
“I know,” said Zulmaher. “Yet there is a danger in what she is doing. Prince Dafed makes court at Ushal Fortress. Princess Sofy makes court at the Tol'rhen. One is the brother of the Regent, the other is his wife, and each seems to share a different vision for Tracato.”
“But you just said Dafed cares little what happens.”
“Exactly. Dafed will let the Elissians do what they will, he cares not. The Elissians are angry. I fear I have played my part in making them that way.”
“You should have destroyed them when you had the chance,” Alfriedo muttered. General Zulmaher had commanded the Rhodaani Steel against Elisse barely months before.
“That was not the general opinion of Family Renine at the time,” Zulmaher said archly. “But it matters not. The Elissians see that Dafed is their man. And Sofy, therefore, is their obstacle.”
“She is well-protected,” Jaryd said. “Larosan knights; I've spoken with them. Little that I'd trust a Larosan knight, but in this instance they are committed. To protect the Princess Regent is an honour.”
“She should be careful nonetheless,” Zulmaher persisted. “She becomes very popular in Tracato, and at a pace that will alarm many. Many lords here see the coming of the Regent as their path to power. Others hope for a great reshaping of Tracato, and the destruction of much that the Princess Regent now champions. She makes enemies. Some of those enemies wonder just how valuable is a new highland wife to the Regent, now that the wars appear all but won. If the Regent truly loved his wife, some say, he would have kept her by his side, and in his bed.”
Jaryd watched him, arms folded, and felt resentment. Toward Sofy, mostly. Resentment that he should care at all, when she was now married to another, and to interests far beyond his nonexistent status. One night they had had together…or several in fact, upon the road, travelling from Algery in Tyree back to Baerlyn. And then she had left, for Baen-Tar, and her regal life so inaccessible. Now he was her puppy dog, running about after her in the vain hope of a pat, or perhaps a stick to chase.
He worried and watched as she so naively placed herself into dangers that only a very intelligent girl like her could contrive to get into, all wishful thinking and girlish daydreaming. A stupid girl would think less and fear more, and be safer for it.
“I've tried to warn her,” he said. “I'll keep trying. But you've met her sisters. They're a headstrong family.”
“Are any Lenays not?” asked Alfriedo.
“See that she listens,” Zulmaher warned. “More than merely her life could depend on it. If her enemies here dispose of her, it would bode ill for all Lenays in the Bacosh.”
NINE
The party made their way to Ilduur the fastest way they knew how. Two men of the Enoran cavalry led them, knowing these roads best. They rode almost directly south, while the armies of Lenayin, Rhodaan and Enora would continue toward the southeast, and the city of Jahnd. The pursuing Army of the Bacosh would be unlikely to head this way in any force, intending the full destruction of Jahnd and its defenders.
The lands they rode through were full of people, farmers and townsfolk going about their business as they might in any other time. Sasha had rarely seen lands so beautiful, rolling hills and pasture giving way to ample forest, and some formations of land so rugged that it seemed even the grandeur of lowlands civilisation could never claim them. Several times they passed old castles, some now broken ruins unused in two centuries, others occupied by commoners who lived within the great stone walls, one family to a chamber, and used the former lordly stables to pen their sheep at nights.
The first day, Sasha argued with Pelner, the leading Enoran cavalryman, about their pace. They rode either serrin mounts or Lenay dussieh, bred for stamina more than power, but even these were not invincible. Pelner was confident they could make the Shalaam Canyon that divided Enora from Ilduur in eleven days if they were fast. From there the land rose steeply, and the Ilduuri Mountains were not territory through which any could make fast progress whatever the urgency. Another ten days at the quickest, Pelner said, and Aisha agreed, having made that journey a number of times.
To her own astonishment, Sasha found herself arguing for a more sedate pace than the Enoran wished to set. It was possible, she argued, to hold a good pace even on high mountain trails. But not if they whipped the horses first. Exhausted horses would not fare well in high, cold air, and those that did not make the transition well might die. The price was worth paying, and the party of twenty-six riders brought twelve fresh mounts with them just in case, but Sasha was unconvinced that even those would fare well without riders, and would make for slow progress at altitude either way.