“If you don't let me in,” Aisha replied, “it's unlikely my hide will last the day regardless.” Silence beyond the grille, then a muttered conferring. “No one saw me come, except your loyal allies here.” She jerked her head back along the street. “But you can trust them not to tell who's been visiting you, surely?”
The gate squealed open and Aisha slid within. Immediately opposite was a second gate, from which came the sound of many bars being released. Soldiers opened the inner gate, and Aisha entered onto a stone walk between gardens of carefully raked gravel. Above loomed the great limestone face of Maerler Mansion.
More soldiers at the huge main doors swung them open as Aisha trotted up several flagstone steps, beneath huge, square pillars made from piled granite pieces and mortar. Whatever Maerler's claims of greater sophistication than their Steiner enemies, there was little sophistication about the mansion's exterior. While Steiner Mansion was reputed to be a pleasure palace, this was a fortress pure and simple.
Within the main doors, however, the effect lightened. Guards escorted Aisha along the grand central hall, where chandeliers shone light on tapestries and paintings.
The hall opened into a great circle, above which towered a perfect dome. More guards, and hurrying servants passing. From somewhere distant, echoing through the halls, the sound of raised voices. Aisha strained her ears as she followed the guards but could not make out the words.
“Wait in here,” said a guard, opening a door. She found herself in a sitting room, with two tall windows overlooking the sea. She walked across, as the door shut behind, and gazed out at the view. Below, there was nothing but ocean, the mansion walls making a sheer drop. Here below to the right, Angel Bay, the funeral pyres and the docks. The docks, at least, looked empty, many tall ships abandoned in their bays, and the decking cleared of merchandise. Beyond was mostly warehouses. The Southern Stack had never allowed many dockworkers and fisher folk to set up house directly beside the water, and so the docks culture had never truly developed south of Sharptooth. Thus, the Nasi-Keth held far less influence there. In the south, people were more conservative, and the families still ruled the poor folk's loyalties. Perhaps if Sharptooth had not divided those people from the north, there would have been more ideas exchanged, and things would be different. Geography was destiny, it seemed. Amongst humans, anyhow.
Her eyes moved to Alaster Promontory beyond, and the waves heaving against its rocky shield. Then across the teeming slope to the many fires. She could see Tiraen from here, one large mansion, though small at this distance. Nothing looked amiss, as surrounding buildings blocked all view of the roads. Nothing seemed to be burning, yet.
To help relieve the cold tension twisting her stomach, Aisha tried the adjoining door, but found it locked. She paced for a while, then went back to the windows. She should have been back there, fighting with her friends. She had never felt so helpless.
The door clicked open and it was Patachi Maerler himself, tall and elegant in green leggings and a black satin shirt, buttoned all the way up to his tight collar. The patachi's stride was fast, and his manner held none of the playful sparkle of previous occasions. He stopped in the middle of the room, his expression blank, and watched her with lidded blue eyes. Four guards lined the wall behind him, swords but no halberds.
Aisha bowed low. “Great Patachi,” she said in her most eloquent Torovan. “Saalshen's agents are besieged. My mistress Rhillian sends me to invoke your promise of allegiance. She seeks assistance, kind sir, in the name of the friendship between you and her, and of our great future to come.”
“She promised me trade,” said the young patachi, inexpressively. “She promised me power. That is impossible now. Our mutual enemy Patachi Steiner has pushed the priesthood too hard and forced my brother to take drastic action. It was the only way he could preserve the neutrality of the priesthood. Yet the priesthood remains partisan still, and the sons and cousins of Maerler and her allies do not number enough amongst their ranks to make a difference. We could not prevent the archbishop from his sermon. He means to retake the Shereldin Star by force. I think perhaps he shall destroy it by mistake. Either way, he has stirred great hatred of Saalshen in the hearts of the people. Not even the greatest patachi can stand against this and live.”
“Patachi,” said Aisha, bowing once more, “the Nasi-Keth shall hold the Shereldin Star. Patachi Steiner has sensibly refused the archbishop's requests for an assault on Dockside for many years. Dockside is defensible, their people will fight to the last, and now Kessligh Cronenverdt leads their defences.” She looked up, desperately. “Whoever holds the star can dictate terms to the archbishop! The archbishop has sworn to reunite the star with the Enoran High Temple. He intends to march the Army of Torovan into battle with the star at its head-”
“You lend me little confidence,” Maerler interrupted coldly. “The archbishop has roused more angry men with his sermon than Patachi Steiner could dream of. I think you underestimate the scale of it, little serrin. From our heights here on Sharptooth, we have quite a good view of the proceedings, and we count well past ten thousand. Possibly twenty.” Aisha could well believe it, having seen what she'd seen…yet still her blood ran cold. “Steiner has perhaps fifteen thousand in total, but he could never have used more than a third of them in any assault, given his defensive requirements. The Nasi-Keth can muster barely more than fifteen hundred fighters, the rest are many thousands but they are a rabble, and I think you overestimate their chances.
“Kessligh will most likely lose the star. If so, the mobs will doubtless take it to the archbishop, where it rightly belongs. Should Kessligh retain the star, he will bargain until the highest bidder, and his price will be no war in the Bacosh…which was perhaps feasible before today, but not after. Perhaps he will threaten to destroy the star, which will force all the great houses to join forces against him. War in the Bacosh is inevitable now. In trying to equalise the imbalance growing within the priesthood, I fear we have forced the archbishop's hand too far. That sermon should never have been delivered, and had the equilibrium existed, the other priests could have stopped it. But now, everything is tilted, and nothing shall be the same again.”
Rhillian, Aisha recalled, had spoken of equilibrium. She'd argued with Errollyn about it. Aisha had spoken up once in support of Errollyn. Had she spoken loudly enough? Perhaps if she'd pushed harder…but to what ends? Rhillian was within her ra'shi. The pull of the vel'ennar was strong. But Errollyn did not feel it…He could stand against Rhillian, where Aisha found it hard. Was he then in the right? Had he been right all along? And had she, and all the talmaad in Petrodor, been blind to it?
“It's over, little serrin,” said Patachi Maerler, suddenly tired. “The game is at an end. It was fun while it lasted, but perhaps the archbishop always had the final move in his keeping, and we were all fools for thinking we could play him. I do not know who will lead this Army of Torovan into the Bacosh, but I do know that the decision is no longer mine to make. I think I shall keep you, however, as a bargaining tool with Saalshen's new representatives, when they arrive. My spies tell me that you speak rather a lot of languages, and have much knowledge of the Saalshen Bacosh. Have no fear I shall mistreat you. I offer you safety and hospitality from the storm.”
Aisha's fear subsided, as something else displaced it. And the patachi frowned to see the sudden change in the little blonde serrin's bright blue eyes. “I will fight to defend my people,” Aisha said quietly, with menace in her tone. “I came to you freely, as a friend. I would leave as such.”
“You are in no position to make demands, little girl,” Maerler said crossly, but there was an edge of uncertainty in his tone. “I offer you your life. Most people would be grateful!”