“No,” said Rhillian firmly. “The issue is Petrodor. The Maerler alliance has at least ten thousand men under arms within the city alone. This two thousand of Steiner's is nothing, even with three provincial dukes taking Steiner's side. The other dukes are not committed-Pazira, Flewderin and Cisseren are openly hostile to Steiner, Songel is little better. If we keep them all divided, there will be no Torovan army marching south next spring.
“Patachi Steiner can make whatever alliance he wishes with Lenayin, he can ransom back King Torvaal's daughter, he can marry her to one of his other allies, send her to a holy convent to consolidate relations with the priesthood, whatever he chooses. It will all make no difference if Patachi Steiner commands nothing more than merchants and coins. Armies make leaders, Errollyn. If Patachi Steiner has no army of Torovan to command, then he's nothing more than a moneylender for this cause. This action will shake Steiner's base of power to its core, it will increase suspicion, kill many of their men, and make all Steiner allies consider their position. No one will follow this man, Errollyn. If we deny him that, then we stop the army of Torovan from ever forming. Without the army of Torovan, the Saalshen Bacosh is safe.”
“And if the pendulum swings so far the other way that Patachi Maerler takes power instead?” Errollyn asked, stringing his bow with a powerful heave on the string, fitting the loop over the notch as the wood creaked and groaned. “Friendly Patachi Maerler with his ten thousand men under arms?”
Rhillian sighed and went to the table to pour Aisha another cup of water. “Errollyn, where are you going? You're needed here…what if Steiner's men attack this house? Our other properties?”
“If you're smart, you'll run away.” When Errollyn plucked the fitted bowstring it made a deep, satisfying thrum. “Aisha, a second pair of eyes would be useful.”
“I forbid it,” said Rhillian, handing Aisha the cup. “Either of you. We are in danger, the talmaad cannot split in the face of it.”
“This is stupid,” said Errollyn fiercely. “I've listened to your horseshit for weeks. You've set half the city on fire, you've set forces in motion you have no idea how to control, and now the only decent advice you're receiving, you're determined to ignore. I'm tired of it. I'm leaving.” Rhillian blinked. Errollyn had spoken that last in Lenay-as Sasha always said, the swear words were far superior to anything in any Saalsi dialect. “Aisha?”
Aisha looked at Rhillian for a long moment, then at Errollyn, then back again. “I'm…I'm sorry, Errollyn. I can't.”
“Errollyn,” Rhillian tried again, “I understand you're upset about Sasha…”
Errollyn nearly laughed at her, humourlessly. “If the sane are irrational, then the irrational must be sane?”
Rhillian's expression hardened. “I give you an order, Errollyn. I make a habit of it.”
“And I've made a habit of submitting,” said Errollyn bluntly. “No longer.”
Rhillian just stared at him. As did Aisha. Vel'ennar. The one truth. Beyond a certain point, serrin simply could not disagree. The one truth united them. The eternal presence. The light in the dark. It was each other. It was all serrin, their common beliefs and lives, aspirations and dreams. All serrin shared it. Except the du'janah.
“Errollyn,” Rhillian protested, almost plaintively. “You can't just leave!”
Now Errollyn did laugh in helpless exasperation. “I can't? Watch me.” He walked to the stairs across the rickety floorboards.
Rhillian caught his arm halfway there. “Don't you care about us?” There was temper in her voice now, a fire in her emerald eyes. “Doesn't it matter to you if this place is attacked? If innocent residents are killed?”
“You.” Errollyn jabbed a finger in Rhillian's chest. “You understand nothing. You accuse humans of prejudice, yet in the years you've known me, you've never once understood what it feels like to be me.”
“You're playing the victim, Errollyn,” Rhillian said warningly, “it doesn't become you.”
He could have hit her. He stepped back with a deep breath, snatching his free hand back lest it betray him. “You know what? Fuck you. Fuck all of you.” He spoke in Lenay and the strength of his anger scared him. He backed up, wanting only to escape.
Rhillian shook her head. She seemed at a loss. “You've almost become human,” she said in Saalsi.
Errollyn felt something snap. “Don't you dare use that like an insult!” he shouted at her, still in Lenay. “You fucking bigot! I don't feel what you feel, Rhillian! I don't feel what most serrin feel! You're supposed to be big enough to accept that, of course you are, you are the serrinim! The great and godly, the intellectual, the sophisticated who accept all truths because it is your nature…well how sophisticated is this, you can't even understand a single du'janah!”
“I cannot confront this,” Rhillian sighed. “You are emotional, you complain like a child…I don't know what to do with you, Errollyn.”
“I know. I know you don't. You never did. From the moment I arrived in this city, I've been alone.” He used Saalsi now. The word meant far more than just solitary, in that tongue.
“That is unfair,” Rhillian said firmly.
“Yet you have no idea why I'm leaving, do you?” He walked back to her and stood, confronting her face to face. A little taller than she, and considerably broader. “You accuse me of not caring? Don't you realise that it is a curse to be born like this? Don't you understand that I would love to feel what you feel? To wake every morning and know that I belong? You misunderstood me from the first, Rhillian. You attribute false motivations to my actions, and false thoughts to my words. And now you wonder why I distrust your judgment of humans?
“I will tell you this one piece of wisdom, Rhillian, and listen closely, for it may save many serrin lives. Serrin are only good at understanding serrin. The vel'ennar binds us to each other, yet in doing so, it blinds us. Or at least, it blinds you. Humans cannot feel vel'ennar. I cannot. I could not describe it to you if you asked. And yet you presume to comprehend human feelings as though they were your own.”
“Errollyn,” said Rhillian, choosing her words carefully. “I'm sorry that you feel left out. I have always valued your insight, as I value the insight of many of my talmaad. We each have unique skills, and I would utilise them all. But I cannot be riven by such self-doubt, Errollyn. My judgment tells me our course is sure. I can do no better than listen to my better judgment. The eternity equipped me with nothing more.
“Now, you profess to understand human concepts better than I. It's possible, I admit. So understand this concept. I order you to stay at this post. Lacking perception of vel'ennar is no excuse for disobeying orders. Humans don't. Humans obey discipline. It is their greatest advantage over us. Now we must do the same.”
“Humans obey discipline in their various parts,” Errollyn agreed, unflinching. “But they have variety, Rhillian. They all fight each other. It's a tragedy, yes, but not a weakness. They have many views and many values. But now, you ask all serrin to follow just one. Yours.”
“Not mine,” said Rhillian, with temper. “I listen. My opinion is informed by others. We are collective, Errollyn. We stand together.”
“And are condemned by it. We need division, Rhillian. It may save us. I'm sorry.”
Rhillian's stare was unwavering. “If you leave now,” she said, “don't come back. You won't be welcome.”
“I've never been welcome.” Errollyn turned and strode for the stairs. Behind him, he heard Aisha's upset, disappointed exclamation…at Rhillian, it seemed. Footsteps followed him down the stairs.