Mali was tall and intelligent, and seemed very nice, but lords, he liked to talk. Sasha had to, once again, give a brief account of her adventures in Ilduur, all the while wondering why the number of servants in her previously empty quarters was steadily increasing, and the number of officials seemed to grow larger. Mali announced that there would be a banquet tonight to honour her and the Ilduuris, and she would be presented with the Guardian of Jahnd, a medal, and would that offend any of her religious beliefs or cause any protocol difficulties between her and her Lenay people, or the Ilduuris?
Sasha thought it nice that they'd think to ask, but now her Ilduuri captains were striding in to find her, and she apologised to excuse herself and gather news of her army's campsite in the Dhemerhill Valley. It seemed that there were inadequacies with food-her men had expected good fresh food upon arrival at such a rich city, but now it seemed they'd be living on old rations for several more days at least.
“Well, that's no good,” she exclaimed to the captain who brought her the news. “Kick some heads if you have to, I want them fed properly. How is the campsite?”
That seemed no better. Sasha resolved to ride out immediately and see for herself. But now there was the head servant of these high-class quarters, asking her if she'd like to inspect her personal staff. Staff?
She went downstairs and did so, a line of well-dressed maids and menservants, and said yes, they'd do fine, and fended off further questions about the timing of her evening bath, her morning bath, breakfast in her chambers, perhaps musical entertainment arranged at short notice for guests?
“I'll tell you when I know what's going on,” she said harriedly, and was stopped immediately by a Steel lieutenant, stating that Generals Geralin and Rochan of the Rhodaani and Enoran Steel required to meet with her at the earliest.
“I'll send Captain Arken instead,” she said, heading back upstairs to inquire after Damon's whereabouts.
“The generals were quite insistent that it should be you,” said the pursuing lieutenant.
“I'll tell Captain Arken to talk in a high-pitched voice,” she retorted, climbing stairs. “I will attend to the generals as soon as I'm able.”
In her chambers she found several men in robes, attended by her servants, who told her that it was customary that a service should be held for newly arrived guests, and that the Ilduuris should be received in Jahnd with offerings to the gods, and blessings from the monks. Those were the holy men of the Taanist faith in eastern Ilduur, the native faith to many of the Ilduuri Steel; in addition to the Verenthanes, Sasha hadn't realised that faith was well established here in Jahnd.
She delegated to Captain Arken, and asked a servant to send a messenger to inform him to arrange it all. She would have to attend personally, of course. Sasha gritted her teeth and smiled.
Far too much time had elapsed when she finally left to meet Damon. Yasmyn now walked with her, having come to inform her that Lenayin's leaders had arrived to hold a rathynal in nearby gardens. She walked downstairs from her chambers and across a courtyard, all of which seemed very regal for city like Jahnd. She'd have thought that a people fleeing the persecution of feudalists would not style themselves as nobles in their new land.
These grand buildings clustered upon the peak of what the locals called Mount Jahndi, and were thronged with Steel officers, other uniformed soldiers Sasha took for local city guard, talmaad, and well-dressed officials and servants, all scurrying back and forth between various meetings and functions. Sasha walked with two Ilduuri guards, two local messengers in case of the need for rapid communications, Yasmyn, and, now running in pursuit across the courtyard, Daish.
“Compliments of Kessligh,” he said, recovering his breath. “He wants us to have a liaison. That's me.”
“Excellent,” said Sasha, and meant it. Kessligh would need good communication with each of his commanders, and that communication would best be conveyed by messengers who understood what was being said. Daish had strong knowledge of battlefield tactics, and personal friendships with both her and Kessligh. Words lost in translation, in the height of battle, could cost everything. “How's your injury?”
“Good,” said Daish. “There are excellent hills here for running. Care to join me?”
“I'd love to, but I'm beginning to realise why Kessligh said being Lenayin's Commander of Armies reminded him more of a prison than a profession.” She had gotten off her horse and run every day on the trip from Ilduur, joined by Daish and some others, always uphill. The infantry had loved to see it. “Where's Aisha?”
“With Rhillian, meeting local talmaad. Explaining what happened to Kiel and Arendelle, no doubt.”
“Interesting meeting,” Yasmyn said drily. “The gardens are just up these steps and beyond.”
They climbed stairs between buildings, then emerged onto lovely green gardens. A narrow path took them through cultivated lawns divided by banks of flowers and ornamental trees, and over a little footbridge across a rocky stream and a pool filled with fish. Ahead were shade trees, where Sasha could see many people gathered, most with long hair in Lenay-style leathers.
“Nice place for a meeting, at least,” she said, relieved to be outside. To the right, there was a tremendous view across the valleys, with a faint glimpse of the Ipshaal River in the distance. All Lenays would agree this a far superior place for a rathynal than some chamber.
Men stood aside as they approached, forming a wide circle with a space now for Sasha on one side. On the other was Damon. He looked well, dressed closer to battlefield garb than most lowlanders would, as were they all, save for the absence of mail. Surrounding him, Sasha recognised a number of his lordly friends-mostly young men, amongst the few nobility who had not remained with Koenyg. Most of those now had family on the other side. Sasha admired their bravery, and their loyalty to Damon, yet did not think that their circumstance made them reliable.
She stopped at her place in the circle and exchanged the formal greeting for such a gathering, with a fist raised to all in salute. The others returned it. Across the circle, Damon did too, somewhat warily.
She broke the circle and strode to him for an embrace. Damon returned it. There was a murmuring of men about the circle, whether in consternation or approval, or something else, she could not tell. And did not particularly care.
“I'll never be Queen of Lenayin,” she murmured against his shoulder, low enough that others could not hear. “I told Markan that if he tries to make a conflict between us, I'll kill him first.”
Damon squeezed her harder. When she pulled back to look at him, he wore a smile of wan relief. Sasha grinned crookedly and gave him a light whack on the cheek, for reprimand that he could ever have doubted her.
Then she looked about at the circle of faces. “I heard some of you want me to be queen,” she announced to them. Many faces registered shock. There was protocol to be observed, formality in such gatherings. One did not simply dive in head-first. “Who amongst you?”
She gazed about, demanding an answer. All eyes turned to Markan. His arms were folded, his eyes calculating. Back on Sasha's side of the circle, his sister Yasmyn watched on intently.
“These are the oldest Lenay ways,” said Markan. “This is the brohyl, the primacy of might. The throne of Lenayin is open to claim for the first time in its history. Noble tradition states that the heir to the throne shall be determined in descending order of birth amongst sons. But as you can see, there are very few nobles here.”
Sasha's eyes narrowed and she folded her arms in reply, walking slowly to the centre of the circle. Markan and Ackryd were the only great lords of Lenay provinces to have joined the defection, and both were respected. Ackryd was a former commander of the Red Swords, a formation of Lenayin's small standing army. But he could not take Markan in a fight, and everyone knew it.