“Finally they were convinced that their only course of action was my course, and so we scouted Andal instead. I found Tershin, or rather he found me, and told me where you had gone. I decided that you could quite possibly succeed, you being you and all…” she gave a faint smile that Sasha returned, “…and that in the meantime, I had to save as many Andal serrin as possible, and try to get the Steel out of their barracks one way or the other.
“We came in and cleared the streets. The Stamentaast aren't much for fighting really, certainly not against us, and not in the dark. We must have killed several hundred for only a few losses, and the rest have barricaded themselves in around the Remischtuul, and Heroes' Square. Most regular Ilduuri here hate us, but those who attack us die, and the rest stay inside. We make no friends, save those in Steel Town; a few of them help us but even there they do not like to see serrin occupying their city.”
“How many are you?” Sasha asked.
“More come every day. We're nearly a thousand now. The Stamentaast and allied forces are at least double that.”
“Allied forces?”
“Militia. A few ex-Steel, but not many, mostly just local men who have found weapons. A few Nasi-Keth too, but a lot of the Nasi-Keth here hate the Stamentaast, and seem to think it justice that serrin should kill them for what they've done. But the area around Heroes' Square is open, they have many crossbows and even more shields-if we attack into that we'll have heavy losses. Talmaad are not good for such direct actions. We need the Steel.”
“You want us to help you take our own city,” Arken said bluntly. And flinched as Rhillian's stare found him.
“This is your city? Do you claim its recent actions as your own?”
“No,” Arken muttered.
“Then is it not your city?”
“Just because the Steel and those minded like us are not in control of the Remischtuul,” Arken retorted, “that does not make what you ask any easier. Andal is the capital city of Ilduur, and…”
“I'm sorry,” Rhillian interrupted, not looking at all sorry. “We serrin do not truly understand this concept of belonging without responsibility. If something is yours, you are responsible for it. You either accept Andal as yours, and its actions as yours, or you reject them both. Now, is Andal yours, or not?”
Sasha sensed something unspoken behind Rhillian's words. “How many serrin dead?” she asked quietly.
“Oh, we don't know yet,” said Rhillian, with the distraction of someone being deliberately vague to avoid confronting too powerful an emotion. “They took a lot of prisoners in that first night. Ordinary folk, many families. When we began to fight back, they needed men for fighting, and could not spare guards for the prisoners. So they herded them into houses in Remischtuul district. When the fighting began to go badly for them, they set some of those houses alight, with the prisoners still inside. We think about a thousand.”
Her stare might have burned holes in Arken's eyes. He looked away. Then he turned to Sasha. “You have led us this far. What do you suggest?”
“That you come to realise that you can either be a loyal Ilduuri, or that you can do what is right,” said Sasha. “You cannot have both.”
More horses were arriving in the courtyard, a Steel cavalry, including one man with an officer's crest onto his helm.
“A formation captain,” said Arken, as they all stood. “Looks like Idraalgen.”
He led Sasha and Rhillian over as Idraalgen dismounted. He was a man in his midforties, dusky-featured for an Ilduuri, and lately unshaven. He and his two lieutenants looked about in unease at the serrin that filled his courtyard.
Arken walked up and saluted, and Sasha recalled that even the lieutenants outranked him. “Lieutenant Arken Haast, sir.”
“Just the man,” said Idraalgen. “The scout told me you were up to something. The Altene, he said.”
“Yes, sir,” said Arken. It sounded odd in Saalsi; “rah” was a borrowed Larosan word, as serrin had no concept of “sir,” and were never likely to. “I discovered Meraini emissaries ensconced at the Altene, controlling the Remischtuul with bribes from the Chansul of Meraine. Thousands of Meraini talons.”
Idraalgen frowned. “And you have proof of this?”
“Yes, sir. The Meraini emissaries, prisoners from the Altene. One is the son of the Chansul himself. In the company of several Remischtuul chairs, also taken prisoner, with many chests of talons.”
“And how did you acquire all these from the Altene?” Idraalgen asked with a dry smile. “Walk to its gate and knock, and ask politely?”
“No, sir. I and twenty-two volunteers stormed the Altene, and took it.”
Idraalgen just looked at him. “You took the Altene with twenty-three men?”
“Not me, sir. Her.” Arken pointed to Sasha. “Sashandra Lenayin. Sister of the Lenay king. The finest commander and swordsman I've yet served beneath.”
Idraalgen and his lieutenants stared.
“Twenty-six men,” Sasha admitted. “I had two more of my own.”
“You hold the Altene?” Idraalgen evidently could not believe it. “With all their defences?”
“No, we gave it back,” Sasha explained. “We only wanted the Meraini and their talons, to show the likes of you what was going on. Three heroes paid with their lives.”
“You took the Altene with twenty-six, and only lost three men?”
Captain Idraalgen left them to talk to the Meraini, and the captured Remischtuul, and came away livid. Soon he was roaring orders to Steel soldiers newly arrived, and men on horseback went racing away toward the city outskirts, and in the direction of Steel barracks further up the valley.
“Yesterday,” he later explained to Sasha as they climbed stairs within a nearby tower, “some Stamentaast came riding up to our barracks gate and demanded we march to Andal at once. Serrin were attacking Andal, they said. We laughed, and went back to our lunch.”
Sasha decided not to mention what Kiel had nearly gone and led these very same serrin to do.
“We don't take orders from Stamentaast,” Idraalgen continued, “only the Remischtuul. And the last we'd heard from the Remischtuul, they'd told us to remain in barracks. Talmaad in Andal seemed like justice, from what we'd heard. But now we've heard there are locals organising to attack the talmaad and support the Stamentaast. If your friend Rhillian stays here too long, she'll find local Ilduuri will start to fight her.”
“That would be courageous of them,” Sasha said drily. “Fancy picking a fight with someone who can actually fight back.”
They emerged onto the tower's heights and surveyed the southern slope of the valley. There the Remischtuul building sat huge and wide upon the lower slope. Before it were large, grand buildings, similar to what Sasha had seen in Tracato. Between them and the Remischtuul, Heroes' Square. The surrounding neighbourhood, she'd been told, was wealthy, and filled with Remischtuul families, merchants, and various functionaries.
Rhillian was already atop the tower with Aisha, Arken, and several newly arrived Steel officers. “All the approach roads are barricaded,” Rhillian explained. “We think there's about four thousand by now, half Stamentaast and half militia. But more join them constantly.
“The slope behind is quite steep, making flanking manoeuvres no more than a nuisance for them. They have almost no cavalry, but they couldn't deploy it even if they did. Most have shields by now, and even the militia seem quite well protected. Spears too, which will make a direct assault down the streets problematic.”