As soon as the high foothills ended, Saalshen truly began. Through thick woods and rolling hills the Ilduuri Steel marched, and serrin came out to watch, offer food and drink, and walk alongside whilst asking questions. Clearly they did not fear the Ilduuri Steel, and had received warning of its arrival. Yet their welcome was, to Sasha, vaguely disappointing, compared to the cheers and enthusiasm of the saaren saadi of the higher mountains. On the other hand, she reminded herself, serrin so rarely went for that kind of enthusiasm in anything. They were pleasant, yet measured, in most things. And here, seeing a grand army of human warriors in steel armour, marching through their peaceful lands, they were perhaps understandably wary.
The approach to Jahnd became mountainous once more, as the Eastern Reach extended further into Saalshen from Ilduur. It was a range of low mountains, like a wall before them, climbed in a day through a single pass.
Finally, twelve days after leaving Andal, the way ahead dropped into low hills and the most thickly cultivated land they'd seen so far. Before them, on the right side of the valley mouth, a city climbed the hills to sprawl across that promontory of land. Beyond it more hills rose steeply. Sasha smiled faintly as she rode, gazing intently at every rise of rock and cluster of trees, trying to get a sense of the land. Jahnd was built on a hill slope overlooking a river, in a valley surrounded by hills. So far, it looked very promising for a defence. How promising, she'd have to wait until she arrived to determine.
In the valley, crowds had gathered to cheer their arrival. These were mostly human, local villagers spread through the small fields between the trees, a few waving flags that Sasha did not recognise, but guessed represented the city of Jahnd. As the valley grew wider, they passed more farmhouses, then small villages, then large ones. They crossed the river at a stone bridge through a pretty town, and hundreds of townsfolk hung out of the windows, festooned with flags, and showered them with flowers.
Sasha saw many people pointing, at her in particular. She rode alongside a collection of the highest-ranking Ilduuris-a gesture she thought important, as she did not wish to appear the aloof foreign conqueror. Behind her in the vanguard rode Rhillian and Aisha with some other officers, the rest riding at the head of their particular formations back in the column. A few of the talmaad rode along. Many others remained in Ilduur to help escaping serrin or half-castes from those lands. The serrin had not been keen to follow Rhillian, and Sasha wondered how she'd be received amongst her people in Jahnd.
Nearing the mouth of the valley, she got her first good look at Jahnd. It rose up the rounded promontory in a slope that seemed as steep as Petrodor's, an amazing bristle of detail, clustered rooftops, and spires. Yet even from this distance she could see the wealth of its buildings, with none of Petrodor's crumbling decay. About the base of the slope, great walls loomed, arcing out of sight about the front of the promontory. But well before those walls, the city sprawled away from the slope and out across the valley floor to the river and across.
Approaching that sprawl now, they crossed open fields and yards filled with cattle and sheep. And here, astride the approach road, waited a small welcoming party.
Sasha recognised Kessligh immediately. Yells sounded out across the Steel column behind, and trumpets blared. Colours went up, a great unfurling of flags and pennants. Sasha's new horse had been selected from the Remischtuul stable, a young stallion who reminded her a little of her beloved Peg, in build if not in unremarkable chestnut colour. Clearly he'd been trained for display, for now with the flags and trumpets, he tossed his head and pranced a little. And was disappointed, for Sasha's style was not to prance, and she made him stop.
She let an officer call the halt, and rode forward to greet Kessligh on her own. He looked good, perhaps a little more weathered than usual, but mostly from squinting into a lowlands summer sun on horseback. His companions included several lads from Tracato's Tol'rhen whom she recognised, and some well-dressed city men she didn't.
His expression as he looked her up and down was quizzical. Sasha nearly grinned. “You brought the Steel, I see,” he remarked.
Sasha shrugged offhandedly. “Oh you know. Just those I could find.” Kessligh's look held a good-humoured reprimand. “Seventeen thousand,” she answered his unasked question. “I'm told there could be another two or three thousand trailing. Three-and-a-half thousand cavalry, the rest infantry. Almost no artillery, just a few wagons of ballistas; the Ilduuri don't use them much in the mountains.”
She could see Kessligh doing fast calculations. “It's good,” he told her. Which meant that it was unlikely to be anywhere near enough, but he was pleased anyhow. “All three Steel armies combined will give us about thirty-five thousand. Lenayin brings us closer to fifty, then there's all the talmaad. Our defensive position is strong.”
Sasha frowned. “They can't have more than one hundred and fifty-if their advantage is only three to one, our position should be good enough. What's the problem?”
“They have artillery now. Quite a bit of it, captured in Rhodaan and Enora.”
Sasha looked at his grim expression, and her heart sank.
“The Ilduuris. They follow you?” Kessligh asked.
Sasha nodded. “My rank is general. Honorary, yet real enough.”
Kessligh's smile was pure pride. And nothing at all of surprise. “Finally the world comes to see what I first saw,” he said.
Sasha smiled, edged her horse alongside, and embraced him, one soldier to another. From behind, the Ilduuri Steel gave a cheer. To them, Kessligh Cronenverdt was a legend. They had been following his pupil until now, perhaps his successor. Now the legend commanded them too. Sasha thought that in their cheer, she could hear some relief that they had not chosen unwisely.
Kessligh introduced her to Tallam, a council leader of the city of Jahnd. Together, the three of them led the way into the city outskirts, Sasha in the middle so that she could benefit from their conversation.
“The walls are more than five hundred years old,” said Tallam, a strong-looking man of middle age, balding but long-haired at the back. He wore the colourful shirt of a townsman, yet underneath was mail, and he had a sword at his hip. “We've kept them in good condition, but as you see, the town now abuts directly against them.”
“Buildings will need to be demolished to give archers a clear field of fire,” said Kessligh. “But some townsfolk resist.”
Sasha did not even bother with exasperation, it was too predictable. “Five hundred years,” she pondered instead, gazing at the walls above the encroaching rooftops and cheering crowds. “How old is Jahnd?”
“Serrin records place the first settlers here at the year eleven hundred before Saint Tristen,” said Tallam.
Eleven hundred years before the Verenthane faith, that was. “Seventeen hundred years?” It was an extraordinary number. Many Verenthanes claimed it had not been that long since the gods had made the world.
“They were small settlements in those days; freehold farmers scattered across these valleys and hills. Serrin still lived upon the western side of the Ipshaal, on what is today the Bacosh. Humans and serrin were intermingled for a long time, and living quite peaceably together, to read the serrin records. But humans became stronger, and drove the serrin back across the Ipshaal, thus forcing the serrin to become more organised for the first time.