"Where does the scroll come from?" one of Kumaryn's party said suspiciously.
"A copy," Jaegar said mildly. "Those among us learned in writing do make copies of such things and distribute them among the villages. You never know when they'll come in handy."
"You can read Torovan?" another asked, with equal suspicion.
"It's a translation," Jaegar admitted.
It was said that King Soros had barely spoken any Lenay when he had arrived in Lenayin all those years ago, Sasha knew. Raised in Petrodor from childhood, having been smuggled from Cherrovan-occupied Lenayin, he'd known mostly Torovan, and most official documents of the period remained in Torovan even now.
"Enough of this nonsense!" Kumaryn barked. His face was reddish now, partly from temper, and partly, Sasha suspected, from the heat. "You defy your lawful lord! The girl Sashandra is accused before the law! If you resist my lawful request, I shall take her by force and have Baerlyn declared a village of traitors!"
"If there is an accusation," Jaegar retorted, his tone hardening, "then the law explicitly states that she is answerable to the king, and the king alone. You are the king's officer, my Lord. A servant. And the accused, may I remind you, is the king's daughter…"
"A title she renounced twelve years ago when she abandoned him to the service of that foreign cult!" Kumaryn glared straight at her for the first time, over the heads of armed Baerlyn men. "You shall yield, or you shall face the consequences!"
"Got a lot of gall, doesn't he?" Sasha suggested to Kessligh. Kumaryn was the greatest fool in Lenayin if he thought this pathetic bluff was going to work. Kessligh, however, looked grim.
"Hey look!" came a shout from a Baerlyn man. "There's Master Wensyl, he brews the finest ale in Cryliss! What are you doing with these damn fools, Wensyl?"
Wensyl, a Verenthane noble, looked uncomfortable.
"Have you nothing to say for yourself?" Kumaryn shouted at Sasha. "Will you not spare the lives of your so-called friends? Or shall you hide behind them like a coward?"
"I am a villager of Baerlyn, Lord Kumaryn," Sasha replied calmly. "I obey my village council, like any villager. Should they wish me to leave with you, I would do so. However, I've heard opposite sentiment put to me, very strongly." She shrugged. "It's out of my hands."
A Goeren-yai man jostled his horse to the fore of Kumaryn's party. "I've heard enough!" he announced. He wore the good clothes of a wealthy city man, yet his bald head wore long hair at the back and his ears were adorned with rings. "This is the stupidest excuse to slaughter an entire village I've yet heard! If there's fighting, I'm on their side!"
He nudged heels to his horse and rode through the Baerlyn lines to raucous cheers, yells and raised blades.
"Anadrys Denaryn!" yelled a noble at Kumaryn's side, levelling a blade at him. "You are a traitor to your lord!"
But more Goeren-yai city men were pushing down the column and crossing into the Baerlyn lines, some waving cheerfully to their new friends as they came. Jeers and catcalls accompanied the cheering as Kumaryn, his noble friends and officers fumed.
"I said I'd come to help in the fight!" the man named Anadrys yelled back at Kumaryn across the gap. "I didn't say on which side!"
"Come on, Wensyl!" the man who had shouted out to him before was yelling above the noise. "The man's an ass! You don't want to fight for him. Come over this side!"
"He's Great Lord of Valhanan!" Wensyl protested, almost apologetically.
"So what? Does he own your honour, or do you!"
Wensyl grimaced, rode across to the man in question and dismounted. Kumaryn's comrades yelled at him to come back, but Wensyl was now engaged in a heated debate with his Baerlyn friend and several others. A pair of Baerlyn men approached Kumaryn, whose companions raised weapons in threat, but a Black Wolves sergeant intervened, and that began a new argument. More men crossed the line, weapons gesticulating dangerously, and suddenly the grim face-off had degenerated into a milling, chaotic debate between sometime friends, trading partners and tournament contestants, as men found others they knew on both sides.
Sasha found herself grinning. It was approaching a farce. She knew what the lowlanders would say if they could see this. "Lenay rabble." Ill-disciplined, chaotic and leaderless. Uncivilised. Barbarian. All were quite possibly true. And Sasha had rarely felt any more proud of the fact than today.
Some dried horse manure sailed dangerously close to Kumaryn's head, but it was impossible to tell who'd thrown it. Sasha saw Geldon climb onto an adjoining fence and call to someone in the column he recognised, followed by handshakes and greetings-Geldon supplied bread to Cryliss and bought grain from them, Sasha guessed this was one of his partners. Anadrys and the other Goeren-yai who'd come over were calling to Verenthane friends still in the column, some of them in the Black Wolves.
The men of the Black Wolves now appeared confused, looking to their lord for direction. Their disquiet was obvious-such companies had been used by lord or king to hit rebellious villages before, but this was different. No Lenay man liked to be seen as another's vassal. No Lenay warrior was obliged to follow a dishonourable command, whatever their oaths. Some more manure actually hit one of Kumaryn's nobles. Kumaryn signalled furiously for a withdrawal and the long column began a slow reverse, leaving many of their number behind to continue the debate.
"So much for that," Sasha said cheerfully to Kessligh, watching them leave. Kumaryn now seemed in furious argument with the Black Wolves captain. If the Wolves refused to fight, that was the end of it.
"Nothing to be pleased about," Kessligh said grimly. "The nobility becomes ambitious. They're flexing their muscles, demonstrating their power to the king."
"And failing," Sasha retorted, steadying Peg's impatient head-toss. "There's not enough of them in Valhanan, just the big towns and Cryliss. Rural folk outnumber them by a lot, their power is less than they think."
Jaegar and Teriyan came back to Sasha and Kessligh, who dismounted to meet them. A councilman from Yule joined them-Tarynt, a small, older man with a bushy beard that tried desperately to make him look larger, and failed.
"Thank you for that," Sasha said, knowing as she spoke that it was unnecessary. "I'm grateful."
"Would have done it even if you were guilty," Jaegar said with a shrug, swiping at a fly. "He's got no right, and he knows it. We let him do this, it's a whole slippery slope from there. He'll not get a warrior nor a horse nor a mangy chicken from us."
"Just when did the lords of Valhanan start fighting the Tyree nobility's wars?" Tarynt asked with concern.
Jaegar took a swig of his small water skin and spat. "Kumaryn overreached this time. He was never very bright. Hopefully he'll get the message now."
"He wasn't sending a message to the villages," Kessligh said grimly. "He was sending a message to the king. They all were. They've had a taste of power now and they want more."
"Aye," said Teriyan, "it's the grand crusade to civilise Lenayin. First it's the lowlands gods, then it's land-owning lords, peasants and feuding armies, and soon one day no one will remember what it ever meant to be Goeren-yai and free." Teriyan was always the educated one, Sasha reflected. The one who knew far more than his wisecracks and bragging let on.
"Over my dead body," Jaegar said simply.
"All of theirs too," Teriyan agreed.
"Did you kill this… this lieutenant person?" Tarynt asked Sasha curiously. The men of Yule had rushed to help at a moment's notice. Evidently they had not heard all the circumstances when they came.
"Lieutenant Reynan?" said Sasha. "No. It was Jaryd Nyvar. Reynan was trying to kill me from behind. Jaryd saved my life."
"Nyvar!" Tarynt pursed his lips into a whistle. Even village Goeren-yai knew and respected that name. Tournaments were not combat