“Purpose,” said Kiel, with faint sarcasm. “The purpose of appeal to ignorant emotion, in place of reason.”
“Lately I feel that reason's high reputation has been gained unfairly,” Sasha said drily.
Kiel's lip curled. “A human might think so. But a human might not understand the term.”
With any other serrin, Sasha might have been interested to debate the issue further. But she knew that unlike most serrin, Kiel's words were not unintentionally insulting.
She looked him up and down, with the aggressive half-smile of Lenay contempt. “Fuck you,” she said, and walked unhurriedly from the temple.
The women had pulled rank and claimed the stables. It would have been impolite of them to repay the priests’ hospitality by bedding as serrin normally would, with men and women together…and sometimes in the same bed, should urge and opportunity coincide.
Sasha made a final round of the horses before bed, checking each for any sign of poor condition that had somehow escaped notice after the day's riding. As she finished the final horse, she turned, and was confronted with a tall serrin man. His eyes burned nearly gold in the dark. Arendelle.
He considered her, wordlessly. Sasha folded her arms, and said nothing. Arendelle was a friend to Kiel and Rhillian both. He had been particularly close to Triana, who moved within Kiel's ra'shi, and had died at Sasha's blade upon the stern of the ship, along with Halrhen, another serrin. Sasha may have fought with the svaalverd, but she was in truth a Lenay yuan. Enemies were enemies, and one did not regret their killing any more than one regretted any of the other eternal fates. But those two she did regret, no matter how rightful the circumstance.
Arendelle approached, and gazed at her face. He was not an unattractive man. Strong, in the way of serrin archers. His golden eyes gave her a shiver. Serrin eyes were never exactly alike in their intensity. Arendelle's flicked down, considering her. If he'd been human, she might have been offended.
Her heart beat faster. Should she say something? She'd killed his friend. She did not know if it was accusation in Arendelle's eyes, or reconciliation, or something peculiarly serrin and inexplicable. He put a finger to her neck and traced a line down to her collar. Then to her chest, lingering at the breast beneath her jacket.
Sasha's eyes flashed warning. Serrin or not, her cultural tolerance had its limits. Arendelle's expression never changed, but his hand hovered. Then he turned on his heel, and left.
Sasha returned to the hay, where Rhillian prepared herself a makeshift bed. Yasmyn stretched nearby, with a difficulty that suggested it was a recent habit, copied from her swordfighting companions.
“What is it?” Rhillian asked Sasha. The dim lantern light was no hindrance for Rhillian's emerald eyes. She could read Sasha's face as clear as day.
“Arendelle,” said Sasha. She did not need to explain the rest. Rhillian knew. Her expression was sombre. “Should I apologise?”
“Do you feel sorry?” There was an edge to Rhillian's voice too. Triana and Halrhen had been her friends as well.
“Yes,” said Sasha. “Not as a Lenay yuan-Kiel had just tried to kill me and they were trying to finish it. If we talk of fault then the fault is Kiel's.” Rhillian said nothing. “But however it happened, I'm sorry they're dead.”
She rolled on her patch of hay, reached and grasped Rhillian's hand. Rhillian lay back and looked at her.
“They should not have come at you with blades drawn,” Rhillian said quietly. “Kiel's action compelled them. They followed his ra'shi. As does Arendelle, more than mine.” Sasha had not heard Rhillian admit that before. “But you should not have been there to begin with.”
“You took Errollyn.”
“I will not apologise for it,” Rhillian said quietly. “It seemed necessary, at the time.”
“And I will not apologise for rescuing him. We both are what we are. Neither of us tries to hide it. That's what made us friends once. We could be honest with each other.”
“And I shall be honest with you now. Arendelle blames you for those deaths. I cannot claim to know what he seeks from you-we serrin are not so alike that we can guess each other's hearts, and I do not know Arendelle as well as Kiel does. I do know that he will not harm you, unless you give him cause to.”
“I know.” Thinking on it, she realised she had not felt even vague alarm at his presence just now. Not for her safety, anyhow.
“I would say that he seeks to reconcile the parts with the whole,” said Rhillian, switching tongues to Saalsi to better explain herself. “It is a large concept in serrin thought. The individual against the group. He seeks to understand if it is human nature that is to blame for the deaths of his friends, or merely yourself.”
“Why not conclude the blame was Kiel's and save us both the trouble?” Sasha muttered.
“No,” said Rhillian, with certainty. “He is within Kiel's ra'shi. He will not turn on Kiel.”
“You mean he can't question his leader?”
Rhillian raised an eyebrow. “And humans are above this?”
Sasha sighed. She wriggled closer, and lay directly at Rhillian's side.
“Rhillian,” she began, “I should explain.” She grasped both of Rhillian's hands and took a deep breath.
Rhillian silenced her with a finger to her lips. “Sasha,” she said gently. “I know.” Sasha gazed at her. “You don't have to explain to me. Understand that as serrin, I can say that I find fault with you for something terrible that happened, and not hate you for the same. Humans find this difficult.”
Sasha didn't know what to say. For some time, she had thought Rhillian her enemy. An enemy of circumstance rather than of hatred, it was true, but an enemy nonetheless. Now she was struck by the strongest doubt that serrin even understood that word as humans did. Kiel knew his enemies not by hatred, but by differing ideals. He hated the invading Bacosh Army though, surely he did. Did he not?
“Do serrin understand ‘hatred’?” Sasha asked. She used the Lenay word, kran. It stood out from their Saalsi, jarringly, like some muddy boot thrown onto a beautiful green lawn.
“Rage, certainly,” Rhillian said at last. “But rage is impersonal. Hatred is directed at a person. I hate the things my enemies do. I kill them so they cannot do more…and for justice. But serrin were always shocked at how humans place themselves before events. You hate the person, not the thing. It always seemed to us pointless. We have always held that an individual, within society, is nothing more than the sum of his actions. I may hate what you've done, Sasha. It does not mean I hate you.”
“I'm not sure I see the distinction,” Sasha murmured.
Rhillian smiled faintly. “Me neither. It is the biel'en sheel.” Sasha frowned, not understanding. “The ‘glorious dilemma.’ You may call it a test of judgement. Or of character. Serrin puzzle on such things constantly.”
Sasha shook her head, sadly. “It's another reason serrin are so feared by humans,” she said. “Spend some time with serrin, and a human may come to fear you are better than us. Spend a lot of time with serrin, and a human may become convinced of it.”
She was awoken by Rhillian, kneeling over her in the dark. Her eyes made emerald spots in the darkness, sharp and deadly, and her blade was drawn. For a moment, Sasha nearly feared. Then she realised that if Rhillian's blade were aimed at her, she'd never have woken at all.
Rhillian saw Sasha looking, and pointed to her own two eyes, then at the surrounding dark. She said nothing, crouched as though expecting death to spring from the night. Something was very wrong.