Petrodor atobas-2

by Joel Shepherd

  A man rose-one of the assassins, his black servant's tunic bloodied and torn, a dripping knife in his hand. He turned, surveyed the carnage, and saw Alythia. Alythia's heart nearly stopped. The man's eyes were wild, yet cold. He saw the sword in her hands and snickered.

  “You're not your sister, little Princess,” he said. “Put it away. I'll not lose my reward so easily.”

  “I'm a princess of Lenayin! My father will double any reward you've been offered!” The words were out of her lips before she could think. She was aghast at herself.

  Something hit the bedroom window behind from the outside, a shatter of falling glass. “What good is Lenay gold to me?” said the assassin, limping about the end of the table. He held his bloody thigh with one hand. “I live in Petrodor. So do you, Princess. The favour of Patachi Steiner will carry me further than your father's ever shall.”

  Alythia stared at him. Patachi Steiner? They were attacked by Steiner? Their great and powerful ally? Marya! was her first thought. Her sister would save her. Marya would not see her harmed. But the roar of battle came loud and near from all about the mansion now and she was scared for her maids, and scared for Tashyna, and scared for little Tristi and Elra, and Halmady were so powerful, and there were so many guards, and surely they could not lose this fight in a direct assault…

  She tore the sheath off the sword and circled the table, about the motionless body of the dying boy. She tried to hold the sword as she'd seen Lenay soldiers hold them, but this was a Torovan sword, thinner and lighter, made more for stabbing than cutting. There was only really room on the hilt for one hand, but she held it with two anyway, having no idea how it was done, otherwise.

  The assassin blocked her way to the door. He held only a knife against her sword, yet to get past, she would have to go through him. It was clear from the look on his face that he didn't believe she could do it. Neither did she.

  Suddenly there were new footsteps in the hall and a figure appeared in the doorway. The assassin half turned and Alythia saw a lithe man in embroidered tunic and tight leggings surveying the scene with horror, a sword in his hand. Gregan. In an eye blink, the assassin scooped up a fallen blade and threw the knife at Gregan. Gregan ducked aside before Alythia could scream, the knife slashing his sleeve, and charged the assassin. Blades clashed and Gregan half stumbled on a body, struggling to defend himself as he staggered sideways. Before she knew what she was doing, Alythia had charged, her blade upraised. The assassin cut at her and she jumped back just in time. Gregan took that chance to slash, taking the assassin across the forearm. He spun away with a strangled yell and Gregan was on him before he could recover, hacking once, twice, three times before the fourth finally exposed the man's defence and the fifth stabbed him clean through the ribs. The assassin fell into a wall and slid down, leaving a bloody trail behind.

  “Papa!” cried Gregan, dashing immediately for the body behind his father's desk. He stared down at it, then spun and ran into the bedchamber as Alythia stood in helpless tears. When Gregan reemerged, he was ashen-faced. He stared at Alythia with haunted eyes.

  “I'm so sorry!” Alythia sobbed. “I just came to talk to him about Tristi. Tristi wanted me to ask him if he could spend more time with the wolf, and I found that…that man here, and them already…already…”

  Gregan embraced her. He looked her in the eyes and Alythia was surprised at the strength she saw there. And the fury. “He nearly had the better of me,” he said, jerking his head toward the dead assassin. “Your attack saved me. Today, I am Patachi Halmady. And you are Lady Halmady.” Alythia could only stare through tear-filled eyes. “Come, my love. We shall fight and defend our home.”

  Petrodor was burning. Errollyn stood on the balcony and watched the flames and smoke rise from across the lower north slope. The house was a nondescript residence, humble for its position, upon the upper stretch of the Corkscrew, hemmed in on either side by crowded neighbours. But the balcony afforded a good view of the great houses of the upper ridge and a figtree ensured some privacy.

  The door opened behind, but he knew it was Rhillian well before she spoke. “Word from Family Velo,” she said softly. “Mari Velo fished a body from the waters off the Cliff of the Dead this morning. It was Yulia Delin.” Errollyn recalled young Yulia from the Riverside raid. Strangely, he could not recall her from the fight itself. Rather, he saw her now in his mind as he'd found her that following day at House Rochel, curled in a chair, reading a book. His hands tightened on the railing. Rhillian stood against his side, a gentle warmth. “I'm sure they won't harm Sasha. I've not heard from Kessligh whether he's received a ransom demand or not. He's not talking to me.”

  Errollyn gazed into the night. He felt no presence at his side, beyond the immediate warmth. Only emptiness. Such was the world of the du'janah. He did not feel it. He could not. Rhillian could not understand. Only Sasha could. He wanted her back so badly it hurt.

  “Halmady's allies burn,” he said. “I count six fires. You've done your work well.”

  “The northern stack turns on itself,” said Rhillian. “The predominant alliance of Petrodor is weakened. We are safer now.”

  “No,” said Errollyn grimly. “They consolidate, that is all. The loss of six houses will weaken the Steiner alliance only a little. All you've done is give them an excuse to eliminate their internal divisions. They will rise from this stronger than before.”

  “This is not all my doing.” Rhillian's emerald eyes were cool as she gazed out at the fires. “The divisions were real. Do not blame me because Sasha took a risk. I love her like a sister, but in truth, she is reckless. Probably her capture had something to do with this assault. But I can't be responsible for Sasha's wild urges, Errollyn.”

  “This isn't about Sasha. It's about you not seeing what you've done.” Rhillian folded her arms and leant against the balcony railing. With her eyes, she challenged him to explain himself, as she'd done so many times before. “The Princess Alythia. What happens to her?”

  Rhillian shrugged. “Events will tell. More importantly, the Steiner alliance shall be weakened from within and take many casualties.”

  “No, not more importantly,” said Errollyn, frustrated. “She is royalty, Rhillian. Only Lenay royalty, but even that counts for something in Petrodor, however little the families like to admit it. Steiner already have Princess Marya, and Steiner's heirs have Lenay blood. Steiner has forged an alliance with Lenayin for at least three generations, and likely well beyond. Lenayin is the greatest fighting force of Rhodia, save for the Saalshen Bacosh. I've fought in Lenayin, and I've seen it. Warrior for warrior they are formidable, and if Lenay kings ever manage to bring the provinces to heel, they will grow more powerful yet.

  “Rhillian, it's not just the serrinim who have miscalculated. King Torvaal miscalculated in wedding Princess Alythia to House Halmady. One daughter married to the powers of Petrodor did not seem sufficient, as power in Petrodor is spread so wide. He judged that wedding Alythia to Halmady, the second most powerful of the Steiner alliance, would strengthen those bonds further. Instead, he created a rivalry.”

  “There are rivalries everywhere in Petrodor. Everyone assumed Halmady and Steiner were friends…what surprise that it turns out otherwise?”

  “No.” Errollyn shook his head firmly. “Alliance to Lenayin could be the single most significant possession any great house of Petrodor holds. Alliance to Lenayin grants power with the priesthood, who are in search of an army, you may have noticed. And lately, priests have been disappearing. Primarily those from Halmady-allied families.”

  “The thought had crossed my mind,” Rhillian admitted.

  “We've been looking the wrong way,” Errollyn insisted. “This is not just another Petrodor power game, this is about Lenayin. Rhillian, we cannot allow Steiner to have possession of both Lenay princesses. Surely Steiner will take Alythia alive, and probably then find some way to wed her to one of their own…”

  “That would run against all the Verenthane traditi
ons of marriage,” said Rhillian, frowning.

  “Who cares? They don't, not when there is this much power in the wind…”

  He was interrupted by noise from within the house. He pushed through the door, Rhillian following, and found Aisha leaning against the fireplace, gasping for breath and covered in sweat. A woman of the local family who owned the house poured her a cup of water from a jug. Aisha drank thirstily.

  “Halmady Mansion's gone,” she said, as her breathing recovered. “The fighting ends. They have not put the house to fire. I think they mean to keep it.”

  Errollyn pictured what he knew of Halmady Mansion's layout. He added the length of time since the fighting had started, and the time it must have taken Aisha to run here with the news…“That was fast,” he concluded. “Well planned.”

  “It's not as though they don't know Halmady's defences,” Rhillian reasoned. “Friends are easier to spy on than enemies.”

  “There were Danor soldiers involved,” Aisha added, wiping blonde hair from her forehead. “And Vedichi. Adele reports seeing Coroman soldiers involved further down the slope against Family Ragini, but I did not see those myself.”

  “How many would you estimate?” asked Rhillian.

  “Oh…I think there's at least four hundred provincial soldiers in the city tonight,” said Aisha. “They play their hand early.”

  “They are confident,” said Errollyn. “They do not fear Maerler, nor us.”

  “Or desperate,” Aisha cautioned. “Halmady has many friends. Six houses were struck, the bulk of the force against Halmady Mansion, but the total force looks to me perhaps two thousand or more. That is no small commitment.”

  “Petrodor politics are the art of using the small threat to imply the large,” Rhillian agreed. “There's no need to kill ten men when you can kill one and frighten the other nine into doing what you want. No one wants to show the other how big their knife truly is because nine-tenths of the fear is the uncertainty. Now Patachi Steiner has been forced to pull his knife and show all Petrodor just how big it is.”

  “It's big enough,” Errollyn muttered. “I'd have thought Halmady could hold out twice as long.”

  “But Danor and Vedichi have declared their allegiance to Steiner for all to see,” Rhillian countered. “Perhaps Coroman too. Things become clearer. Only three provinces have declared for Steiner. It's not enough. And now the others see how Steiner treats its so-called allies.”

  “It won't shock them,” Errollyn said firmly, shaking his head. “This is their world. Aisha, did you see anything to tell the fates of Patachi Halmady or Princess Alythia?”

  Aisha shook her head. “No…we've no spies in Halmady, sadly. Or fortunately, perhaps, given this. I know that Halmady had plans to save the patachi in case of an attack, but most families have those, and secret passages or compartments for the family to hide or escape in. I'd guess that Steiner would want Halmady dead-a former best friend alive would pose too many discomforting questions. My guess is that Steiner had some assassins on Halmady's staff and used them before the family could escape. There's always some men of low station in Petrodor desperate enough to take such risks for huge rewards.

  “There were some carts moving along the Sawback Road, though. Likely to transport any important prisoners.”

  “They'll move Alythia out that way, if she's still alive,” said Errollyn. “I have to go.”

  “And rescue her?” said Rhillian incredulously as Errollyn picked up his bow. “Such prisoners will be heavily guarded, we cannot spare any talmaad for such a deed…”

  “No, these days we can't spare the talmaad for anything useful at all,” Errollyn muttered.

  “There are two thousand Steiner soldiers loose in the city and you think we have nothing to defend?” Rhillian retorted.

  “If Patachi Steiner gains a second Lenay princess, he will at the very least gain extra bargaining power with King Torvaal,” said Errollyn. “How can you just allow-”

  “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?