“And today…well.” Errollyn locked a bare muscular arm about an upraised knee and sighed. “The Saalshen Bacosh trades many of the items that were once only available from Saalshen. Those skills, too, are spreading. Today we threaten the families with boycott, and they merely shrug. Worse, I fear our threats of boycott are only encouraging them to make war on the Saalshen Bacosh. They feel the Saalshen Bacosh, once captured, will be ample restitution for the trade they shall lose from Saalshen itself. Trade is no longer a potent weapon of Saalshen. Some say we should withdraw trade now, to punish those who move against us…but then, we lose leverage entirely.
“I tell Rhillian every day that we do not understand humans well enough to move against them as we do. Two centuries ago, not a soul predicted what has come to pass today. Humans are a dynamic society, fast to change. Serrin are not. And yet serrin, with our superior talents, refuse to accept our own ignorance. We are digging a hole for ourselves, Sasha. Rhillian insists that it is a tunnel with the bright light of hope at the far end. I say it is our graves.”
“Not all humans stand against you,” Sasha said quietly.
Errollyn gazed at her. His green eyes were not as sharp as Rhillian's. They were deeper, more jade than emerald. But still, they were brilliant and far from human. “I know,” he said simply. “If only someone would tell Rhillian.”
“Surely Rhillian does not consider all humans her enemy?” Sasha asked, incredulously.
“No.” Errollyn shook his head. “Rhillian believes…it is the philosophical precept of the rhan'ist and the tula'shan.” Or that was what Sasha thought he'd said. Errollyn was the most plainspoken serrin Sasha had ever met and yet, when he switched to serrin philosophy, even he sounded alien.
“Go very, very slowly,” she told him.
Errollyn made a face. “It's too difficult in Saalsi,” he said instead in Lenay, “most of the words lack even basic translation. Rhillian believes that there is no problem with humans at all. She likes humans.” A massive overtranslation, Sasha knew-serrin were rarely so simple in their feelings toward anything. But such was Errollyn's style. “She believes the problem lies in human society. Buy her an ale one night and I'm sure she'll be happy to explain it to you.”
Sasha frowned. “You mean one human is good, but a hundred humans is bad?”
Errollyn smiled. “Exactly. One human is just a person. A hundred humans make a society. And societies have kings, and religions and priests, and all these other things serrin completely fail to understand.”
Sasha shrugged. “Sounds quite sensible to me. I mean, look at Master Tongren in the The Fish Head. I've only dealt with Cherrovan before as a society, and they're no fun at all. But one Cherrovan…well, he's just Tongren. A decent, good-humoured man.”
Errollyn nodded. “Rhillian believes that human societies always define themselves by their narrowest possible interests. That they are exclusive, not inclusive. She likes humans, but distrusts their societies. And so she expects no help at all for Saalshen from humans. She feels Saalshen has been too forgiving and gentle for too long. She has a good heart, Sasha, but she is convinced that the time has come for Saalshen to take hard actions and make difficult choices.”
Given what she knew of Saalshen's enemies, Sasha did not feel she could blame Rhillian particularly for that. “And what do you believe?”
Errollyn sighed. “I believe that the fate of Saalshen is in humanity's hands,” he said quietly. “Humans shall either be our salvation, or they shall be our destruction. And Rhillian, I'm afraid, may make the latter all the more likely.”
He looked up, seeing someone approaching. Sasha looked and found Kessligh striding along the planks. He wore a loose shirt, rough pants and a floppy hat like Sasha's own, but she'd have recognised that stride anywhere. His approach gave her an unaccustomed feeling of trepidation deep in her stomach.
Kessligh sat cross-legged in the middle of the pier, straight-backed and perfectly flexible, whatever his fifty summers. “I've just come from the Fishnet Alley Courtyard,” he said, without preamble. “Some of your peers were a little upset.”
“I'm sorry!” Sasha exclaimed. “I just couldn't take it any more! They say they're enlightened, but they're all bigots!”
“Bigots?” Kessligh asked, an eyebrow raised.
“Yes, bigots! They treat women like the bigots treat the serrin, or the Xaldians! And worst of all, I'm a Lenay and a woman…I know I promised I'd hold my temper, but how are they ever going to learn otherwise if I don't prove them wrong?”
Kessligh exhaled hard and glanced at Errollyn, who seemed as amused as ever. “They have been a little slower in accepting the notion of a female uma than I'd hoped,” Kessligh conceded. “It's been thirty years since I was last here. I'd hoped things had changed, at least a little.”
Errollyn shook his head. “They're worse,” he said. “The rise of pagan ideas has alarmed the priesthood. There is a campaign for morality in all the temples, including the proper behaviour of women. Petrodor Nasi-Keth are open-minded by local standards, but they are also Verenthanes. Many attend temple services. The Nasi-Keth have never tried to shove serrin teachings down people's throats, they understood that the teachings would only succeed if people were allowed to pick and choose.”
“Maybe that was a mistake,” Kessligh said grimly. “So many people can't see their own hand before their face. No wonder Rhillian doesn't see much hope in the Nasi-Keth when she sees them moving backward.”
Errollyn shrugged. “If the Nasi-Keth do not reflect the values of the local population, how can they ever maintain their support? When balancing upon a high wall, one must sway both forward and backward.”
“I'm sorry I made them angry,” Sasha said earnestly. “But people like that are always going to be angry, one way or another.”
“It's all right, Sasha,” Kessligh said tiredly, holding up a hand. “I'm not angry at you. Many Nasi-Keth do respect you. The others just require some work.” He seemed more frustrated than Sasha had ever seen him, as if something gnawed at him, deep inside. In Lenayin he'd always seemed so calm, so certain. Perhaps Petrodor had always made him feel this way. Constrained. Limited by other people's petty prejudices.
He had left her in Lenayin, whilst she remained embroiled in her homeland's squabbles, to come to Petrodor, leaving the brewing war in the north. That had come to rebellion. She'd come to forgive him his absence for she knew that his loyalties to the Nasi-Keth were as inseparable to him as her love for Lenayin was to her. Now, however, she occasionally wondered if he regretted the decision himself.
“We have the name of a vessel en route from Ameryn,” said Kessligh. “It should arrive shortly. There's a large weapons shipment aboard. We're going to stop it.”
“You think this will win support from Gerrold and Alaine?” Sasha asked warily.
Kessligh shrugged. “I can't control that, their people will either follow me or not. We'll stop that weapons shipment because it's what we need to do. It's what I came to Petrodor to do.”
“But you want me to take a leading role?”
Kessligh gazed at her for a moment then smiled. “It would help,” he admitted. “The tradition here is that the uma's deeds reflect well on the uman. If I'm to build a following, it'll take a little more than a few bruises to some thick-skulled swordsmen in a training session.”
“Leading Lenayin's first rebellion in a century and defeating the Hadryn armoured cavalry in battle isn't enough?” Sasha asked, edgily.
“To these people, Lenayin's a long way away.”
Sasha snorted. “I'll help,” she said. “I don't want to see this war any more than you do. But there's something you should know first.” She looked at Errollyn.