Haven: A Trial of Blood and Steel Book Four (41 page)

BOOK: Haven: A Trial of Blood and Steel Book Four
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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.”

“We could block it,” Sasha suggested.

“Balthaar's becoming wise to our ambushes.”

“Your
ambushes.”

Kessligh shrugged. “If we send a force to block that road, I'm not sure we could kill more than one-and-a-half for every one we lose. He'll be leading with cavalry, either heavy Larosans, or perhaps even Lenays.”

“Koenyg,” Sasha muttered.

Kessligh nodded. “The logical way to clear a road, and travel a longer distance than the main army. If we can't kill them at three to one or better, it's not worth the cost. They'll outnumber us by that many or more, so anything less than that is a win for them.”

“And we won't stop them achieving their objective anyhow,” Sasha concluded. She pointed into the valley. “What is that town on the river?”

“Haller.”

“We can't stop them gaining it, but we should make them pay for it. They need it badly; it controls the approaches up our right flank. If we have artillery for cover on these hills over here…” and she pointed to the peaks on that side beyond the walls, “…we can give protection to anyone defending Haller.”

“You're not thinking widely enough,” said Kessligh. “They'll come down the Dhemerhill from the east in a full force of cavalry. That's where we'll defend from, one long cavalry line, falling back all the way to Jahnd.”

“So you'll be using
talmaad
to shoot at any pursuing force?”

“And I have just the man to command them.”

That tore Sasha's gaze away from the troublesome right flank for a moment. “He's here?” she asked.

“Out scouting,” said Kessligh. “He told me you'd either have all of Ilduur in flames by now, or the entire Ilduuri Steel would come marching out of the mountains with you at their head.”

Sasha smiled faintly. “He knows me well.”

“He's also the best battlefield commander the
talmaad
have,” Kessligh added. He glanced around, but Rhillian was in conversation with some officers. “His strangeness from other serrin gives him a creative and a brutal streak. Will Rhillian object?”

Sasha shook her head. “You know serrin, very little ego. If I were to decide who should rule Saalshen, I'd put Errollyn in command of its armies, and Rhillian in command overall. She has the long vision, but Errollyn is better equipped to solve the problem before his nose. I think it should be so here as well.”

“So,” said Kessligh, “I have overall command. You have the Ilduuris. Errollyn has the
talmaad.”

“And Damon has Lenayin,” Sasha said comfortably. And smiled. “How can we lose?” Kessligh did not agree. Sasha's smile faded. “What's wrong? Something with Damon?”

She'd barely made it to her quarters in the Great City Hall when she was accosted by Great Lords Ackryd of Taneryn and Markan of Isfayen. She exchanged warriorlike embraces with each, as she considered both friends, and received a particularly ferocious one from Markan.

“My sister brings you back safe, I see,” he observed, releasing her.

“Yasmyn was magnificent,” said Sasha, as servants carried her saddlebags into the enormous bed chambers. “She learns svaalverd. I admit I thought her too old to start learning, but she knows much from knifework already, and her skills are good.”

“Ha!” laughed Ackryd. “If she learns svaalverd well, even her brother may not be able to best her soon!”

“Unlikely,” said Markan. “We come to talk of Prince Damon.”

“What about Damon?” Sasha asked cautiously, walking over to consider the view from her massive windows. It was extraordinary, looking clear down the valley to the Ipshaal.

“He is a good commander,” said Markan. “Competent. You are better.”

“And more respected,” added Ackryd.

“Most of what men follow in me is more legend than fact,” Sasha replied. “I am good, but command of armies is not like swordwork. I doubt I am better than Damon.”

“Your results have been more extraordinary.”

“Men will follow you,” Ackryd insisted.

“Men will follow Damon,” Sasha retorted, with a sideways stare. “What's the difference?” Ackryd looked frustrated. “Besides, I command the Ilduuri Steel. They trust me and only marched on the promise that I would command them. Lenayin already has a good commander—to abandon the Ilduuris so that you can fulfill this childish whim is stupid.”

“You could command both,” said Markan.

“You would be hard-pressed to find two forces more unalike than Lenayin and Ilduur,” Sasha snapped, feeling her temper slipping. “Combining them would be folly. What is this really about?”

“It is about gaining the best commander for Lenayin at the most important time,” Ackryd insisted.

“Don't you be dishonest with me,” Sasha accused him, stepping forward to stare up at him. So good she'd become at holding her temper, compared to the past. Amongst foreigners, temper was not always useful. But now she was amongst Lenays once more, and Lenays expected fire. “I'm not some foolish girl to be lied to.”

“There is talk that you should be queen,” said Markan, blunt and unafraid as ever. “Men would prefer it.”

Sasha swore, a string of very bad words even by Lenay standards. She strode back to the window and stared out, trying to calm herself. “Damon will be king, when Koenyg is defeated,” she said.

“As he will be,” said Markan. “No one is speaking of replacing Koenyg now; the battle to come shall decide the rightness of any change of kings. But this is the question. Battle shall decide which Lenay side in this conflict shall inherit the Lenay throne, and that is good. But battle shall not decide the order of its claimants. On our enemies' side, Koenyg is first and undisputed over Myklas. But on this side, there is no such certainty.”

“Damon is older and first in line,” Sasha snapped. “That is
entirely
certain.”

“Lenays have always elevated the man not the rank, nor by order of birth.”

“Markan,” Sasha said coldly, turning to face him fully so that he understood her seriousness. “You and I have fought battles together. We are fellow warriors, and I love you as a brother and comrade. But if you are intending to create some conflict, so that I and my blood brother are forced into deadly contest, then I will kill you well before I kill him, I promise you.”

The brash girl of past times may have exaggerated. This was not that brash girl.

Markan nodded, with calm acceptance. “I understand. Yet the men of Lenayin in battle shall not be denied. The question has been put, and men have spoken. You have achieved more in battle and in command than Damon, it is undisputed. By Lenay custom far older than royalty itself, the place is yours.”

“And I decline, as is also my right,” Sasha said coldly. “It is an unwise allocation of resources. Ilduur will only fight under me, and I cannot believe that the honourable men of Lenayin would force me to break my oath to them. I am unavailable to command Lenayin, Markan. Damon is available, and talented, and natural heir besides. It is settled.”

“It is not.” Markan's arms were folded, his slanted eyes deadly serious. “You love your brother. That is honourable. But this is far bigger than you. This is Lenayin. All of Lenayin.”

“I promise you,” said Sasha, “I will never,” and she paused for emphasis, “be Queen of Lenayin. I do not want it, would not be good at it, and would be the immediate cause of civil wars present and future. Custom is nice, Markan, but custom can be stupid.”

“You are wrong,” said Markan, turning to leave. “Custom is strength, and this custom selects the strong. That is you. Lenayin shall be led in battle by the strongest. It is the failure of nations to follow such customs that leads to their destruction.”

Sasha wanted to go and see Damon immediately, yet no sooner had Markan and Ackryd left than a delegation of Jahndi officialdom descended upon her. This was headed by none other than Ju'verhen Mali, the first word being a local word for premier, the second being his family name. This was the leader of Jahnd himself then, Sasha realised after a moment's initial confusion. Tallam, her earlier guide, was just a councillor.

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?

BOOK: Haven: A Trial of Blood and Steel Book Four
8.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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