“No,” said Rhillian. “I want you to think, that's all. Together, Saalshen and the Nasi-Keth are strong. We should not be divided. Think about it, Sasha, that's all I ask. You cannot convince Kessligh of anything if you do not believe it yourself.”
“In my experience,” Sasha said quietly, “he's usually right about most things.”
“He abandoned you in Lenayin,” Rhillian said sombrely. “He thought the Udalyn a lost cause. He thought a rebellion would lead to civil war. And he was wrong.”
“He thought the Udalyn a peripheral cause,” Sasha countered, “not a lost one. He had conflicting priorities.”
“So do we all. So did you. It doesn't make him less wrong. Everyone's allowed to be wrong sometime. He's only human.”
“As you're only serrin,” said Sasha firmly, looking her friend in the eyes.
Rhillian smiled. “I am. But on this, I'm not wrong. I can't afford to be.”
Sasha leaned back on the bench and watched the horses. She felt lost. Rhillian copied her pose, took Sasha's hand in her own, and squeezed.
“That must be Peglyrion,” she said.
“It is.”
“He's every bit as beautiful as you described to me. See the way he stands to keep you in view? See his ear flicking in our direction? That's love.”
“You're suddenly an expert on horse behaviour?” Sasha asked. “You're a city girl.”
“I know love when I see it.”
“Oh go on,” said Sasha. “It's not even a serrin term.”
Rhillian shrugged in the vague, all-encompassing way of serrin. “Yes, it's a strange human concept. It's intrigued the serrinim for endless centuries because it translates into so many Saalsi words that all mean very similar things, but not entirely. Usually it's the Saalsi terms that have trouble finding precise translations in human tongues, not the other way around. ‘Love’ has obsessed nearly as many serrin as it has humans over the years.”
“I doubt that,” said Sasha, with a faint smile.
“Ah,” said Rhillian, holding up a warning forefinger, “don't make the mistake of assuming we don't know what it means. Serrin love. We just have a hundred words for it, and a hundred concepts of deep affection, not one. I think humans struggle so greatly with their singular concept because they refuse to accept that there are so many different kinds.”
“Huh. Where's the romance in that? Humans like mystery, Rhillian. Mystery is…well, mysterious.”
“So is ignorance,” said Rhillian, smiling. “And humans love ignorance all too dearly.” A bee buzzed to some flowers nearby. Peg swished his tail, chewing contentedly. “You could have left him with Saalshen's holdings in Eldin. Kessligh left Terjellyn there.”
Sasha shrugged, a little warily. As much as she liked Rhillian, there were some concerns she was less eager to share with her. “It gives me an excuse to visit Rochel. Kessligh approved-I always got along better with Rochel than he did. He's a conservative, aggravating old grouch, but he admires spirit. He seems to think that I'm an example of character over common sense, which appeals to him.”
“You probably are,” said Rhillian.
Sasha smiled. “Aren't we all?”
“En'ath,” said Rhillian, with another shrug. The universal truth. Or, in simple human parlance, “well spoken.” Sasha did not add that neither she nor Kessligh had wanted both their horses in Saalshen's Petrodor stables. There was that old Lenay saying about too many eggs in the one basket.
“Sasha? Did you seriously think it might have been me who betrayed you?” Rhillian sounded hurt.
“No,” Sasha sighed, “not you personally. But some of the serrinim…they're not all as nice as you, Rhillian.”
“Kiel,” Rhillian said shortly.
“Aye, well, there's him.”
“He's a principled man,” said Rhillian, without conviction.
“Aye he is,” Sasha agreed. “Most serrin are. So's Patachi Steiner. I just don't like any of his principles.”
Rhillian twisted her lips in wry assent. “I just…” she began and paused. Sasha gazed at her in surprise. If there was one thing serrin very rarely did, it was begin a sentence and not finish it.
“What?”
“I did not want to make you doubt Kessligh, Sasha,” Rhillian said earnestly. “I just thought that it would be truly grand if I could join with some of my closest human friends in fighting for a common goal. And I would be honoured to fight with you.”
Sasha blinked at her. Honour, another of those human concepts that barely translated. And this one was far less well received amongst the serrinim than “love.” Rhillian was trying to say…something. Trying to escape the bonds of language that separated them, however many words they shared. Did Rhillian doubt? Did she wonder, perhaps, at her own strategies, even as she insisted she did not? Did she wish for human guidance? Or did she simply fear that it could be as Errollyn had warned, and that the moral, principled, high-minded serrin could be driven so hard by the need to survive that they would become everything that they despised and were fighting against?
Sasha smiled at her and grasped her hand more tightly. “I would be honoured too,” she said simply.
Rhillian disappeared for the rest of the day, taking Errollyn with her, and leaving Sasha with little to do. It had been a long while since she'd had a genuinely lazy day. She practised taka-dans, and walked in the gardens and chatted with Bryanne Rochel.
Rhillian returned after the evening meal and, as dusk fell, they began the long trek up the Backside slope toward home. The journey would be safer now, with a day between them and the events at Riverside. Serrin company now that Rhillian had completed her meetings, would make it safer still. The Backside slums were an improvement on Riverside. They were still rickety and cramped, but the slope ensured the water flowed downhill and did not accumulate in poisonous puddles. Some folk actually waved to them in the dusk and called greetings. Women washed clothes, or prepared meals on exposed kitchen ledges, chatting with their neighbours or scolding rowdy children. Sasha knew well from Lenayin that people did not need to be wealthy to be happy and decent. It was a relief to see that in at least this part of Petrodor, the harsh lessons of Riverside did not hold entirely true.
Further up the slope, signs of wealth grew more pronounced. Houses had hard foundations and brick walls were held together with mortar. Dwellings overlapped, or loomed one above the other, as the slope increased. They mingled with the run-down shacks of more recent squatters, all jumbled together with the planning and forethought of a messy, forgetful child. Roads and trails began to multiply, and the party left the larger path they were on and made headway on narrow steps and winding paths. The serrin took the front and rear of the group as night fell and they progressed by the half-light of a fading moon.
After a long climb through winding alleys beneath ever-heightening walls, they found themselves in a narrow street leading onto a courtyard. Above loomed the spires of Garelo Temple, the second largest temple in Petrodor and a rare break in the almost impenetrable barrier of heavily guarded mansions that separated Backside from eastward Petrodor. Even so, it was a dangerous bottleneck to pass through if they did not wish a long trek around the entire city.
Rhillian murmured to one of the three other serrin Sasha did not know. Liam and Yulia waited-Yulia still without a blade. A nice present that would make for some mudfoot, although they would probably sell it to one of the merchant houses soon enough for a handsome price. Serrin did not sell their swords outside the Nasi-Keth. Any Nasi-Keth could make a small fortune by selling their blade to humans who couldn't get it any other way. Losing a blade cast great suspicion upon the dedication and loyalty of any Nasi-Keth. No wonder Yulia looked so guilty.
Sasha peered past Errollyn to the dark wall that rose at the edge of the courtyard. “Can you see anyone?”