“Some humans of the Bacosh saw human settlement on this side of the Ipshaal as an invitation to claim these lands also for humans, but this time the serrin fought back, and evicted from these lands all humans who had helped in the invasion. But the humans living in these valleys had always been friendly to serrin, and were allowed to stay. As feudalism gained strength in the Bacosh, and then the Verenthane faith, there came more and more wars; peasants and persecuted peoples escaped across the Ipshaal, and were directed by serrin to settle here. The first truly great wave was during the Wars of Five Kings-those people feared pursuit by their former masters into Saalshen, and so built the walls.”
“The Wars of Five Kings,” Sasha murmured, recalling an old history lesson. The dates fit. She lost sight of the walls momentarily as taller buildings intervened, an upper-floor window crowded with cheering Jahndis.
“But the pursuit never came,” Tallam continued. “Saalshen's talmaad grew strongest in that period. Over the centuries we have built a city that sprawls far beyond the city walls.”
“How many people, do you think?” Sasha asked.
“At last reliable count, nearly a hundred thousand,” said Tallam. Sasha whistled. Barely a fifth the size of Petrodor, she thought. Perhaps a little less than Tracato. Baen-Tar, capital of Lenayin, had barely eight thousand, or so people said. Being in the lowlands for this long had taught her to think differently on the scale of human civilisations.
“I don't suppose you've taught all of them to fight?” Sasha asked wryly.
“Some,” said Tallam. “But understand that we are guests in Saalshen, and do not take any measures that may offend serrin sensibilities. Serrin have argued for centuries whether it is a good idea to nurture such a large human city in their midst. We are required to keep records on every resident, to ensure that our one hundred thousand does not become two hundred, then five hundred.
“So, naturally, they do not like us to have a large army, and become involved in affairs across the Ipshaal. We stay secluded, so that we do not draw other humans into the affairs of Saalshen, and give them excuse to attack the serrin.”
“A nice hope while it lasted,” Kessligh remarked. “But like all vain hopes, likely to achieve the opposite effect to that intended, only at a later date.”
It was an attractive city, Sasha thought. In the Bacosh, this sprawl of settlement about the defensive walls might be little more than a slum of peasants and landless, huddled close to a castle for protection and refuse scraps. But in Jahnd, these people seemed prosperous. Buildings here were low, more like the simple timber and wood structures of a Lenay town, yet everywhere were workshop yards and storage lots. She saw inns with stables, an ironmonger about a great chimney, and a leather-tanning yard nearer the river. There were butchers, millers, and bakers, and, here on the right beneath some shade trees, an entire courtyard for the sale of spun cloth.
They came upon a great dedicated stables, this one for wagon horses, its yard filled with more wagons than Sasha had ever seen in a single place. The smell of many horses was thick in the air.
“Jahnd does a lot of trade,” she observed.
“No more than Petrodor, on a person-to-person basis,” said Kessligh. “It's the quality of what is traded that sets Jahnd apart. There are craftsmen here who make the finest produce of Petrodor look like cheap junk.”
Sasha left the army to make camp in the main valley beyond the city outskirts, as there were no accommodations anywhere for so many soldiers. Yet she first sent officers scurrying to arrange good food, and with instructions to allow them all leave in shifts, to explore the city they were to defend. And it occurred to her that probably the reason why everyone in Jahnd looked so busy was that they were flat out providing for an army that now totalled half the city population.
She made her way with Kessligh, Tallam, and the command vanguard beneath a great arch in the city's walls, and up the main road of Jahnd. It climbed the steep hill face in a huge, curving zigzag, and here the buildings did stand tall and grand. Sasha had never seen such buildings. They were no grander than in Tracato, perhaps, yet the architecture! There were spires and odd-shaped minarets, great overlooking balconies and enormous windows. There seemed no consistent style, as though the city were the work of a thousand wild imaginations, with no single identity. Small roads climbed or descended the slope off this main road, very much like Petrodor, often breaking into stairways where the road became steep. And to the left now as they climbed, there was the view.
“That's the Dhemerhill Valley,” said Kessligh. “The small valley you came up is the Ilmerhill Valley. The Ilmerhill is just a small tributary into the Dhemerhill, and the Dhemerhill just another tributary into the Ipshaal. If you look behind, you can see the Ipshaal from here.”
Sasha turned in her saddle to look back. Down at the valley's end, amongst rolling hills, she could glimpse the wide expanse of water, glinting beneath overcast skies. Not far by horse.
Across the Dhemerhill Valley were hills. Kessligh saw her looking. “Almerhill Hills,” he said. “The tongue is Enoran, like the first settlers here who named everything.”
“They don't look steep enough,” Sasha said grimly.
Kessligh shook his head. “Dhemerhill gives them a narrow approach, but the Almerhill Hills are not sufficiently steep to really box them in. They can deploy formations for depth up that slope if they choose.”
“Cavalry,” said Sasha. “Wonderful place for a cavalry reserve, should we have need to charge into them.”
She thought it sad that she had arrived in such an interesting place, yet had no time to admire it. Her primary interests now were hills, approaches, and natural lines of defence. Already she itched to ride into the valley and seek out all the lines of sight, so that she would know what an enemy would see from that vantage, and how he might be inclined to deploy.
But first, she needed a high view.
Windy Point provided it. Here was the best vantage in Jahnd, directly on the tip of the promontory, and high. Parts of the city rose higher, yet Windy Point was central, the natural point of command for the battle to come.
Sasha leaned on a stone balustrade, and gazed across the valleys. She could see straight down Dhemerhill Valley to the Ipshaal beyond. Upon her left was the Ilmerhill Valley, smaller and narrower, its mouth almost entirely consumed by Jahnd's sprawling settlements. To the right, the Dhemerhill Valley continued into the depths of Saalshen. Only it turned slightly, and widened, creating open fields upon the promontory's right flank. Beyond Jahnd's walls rose several higher peaks, upon which buildings clustered. Worse, the hills leading down from those peaks were more gentle, and she could see a number of roads continuing down into the valley from those heights. It wasn't nearly steep enough on that side to stop determined infantry or cavalry. Or even artillery, she feared. Upon the open valley floor to that side was a small village, nestled against the Dhemerhill River.
“We have a right-flank problem,” Sasha observed, as Steel officers, city officials, and talmaad stood about and looked for themselves, not standing quite so close as to obscure Sasha's view.
Kessligh nodded. “We'll be defending on two fronts. One force will come up the Dhemerhill from ahead, the other will make its way around to the right flank.”
“There's a road that allows this?”
“Yes, northward.” He pointed, across the Almerhill Hills. “A wide road, well known to all.”