Sasha saw immediately what Rhillian had in mind. They could not go right, the odds were against it. They had to stop Belis's men from hitting Errollyn's group from behind. May as well go through them.
Men were streaming from the Belis gate, some armed with swords, others with polearms with wicked heads, and a few with axes. The Belis men looked like no family soldiers Sasha had yet seen, with steel helmets and metal breastplates that glinted in the torchlight. Plate armour. Sasha, Rhillian and Terel crouched while Vinae held fire. To the right, Errollyn's group seemed to be winning through.
The Belis soldiers ran past the temple and Rhillian charged. Sasha and Terel followed, and arrowfire tore from the grounds. Six men fell in an instant. Sasha and the others tore into their side, diving into the sudden gaps in their ranks. She slashed low across one pair of legs, parried a blow and removed a head. She was about to parry a new threat, but he fell to Rhillian's flashing blade, and another dropped with an arrow in the throat.
In an instant, a charging formation of twenty-plus men were transformed to a fleeing, shrieking band barely half that number. Rhillian was already charging up the road toward Belis Mansion, from where more men were emerging. Perhaps these had expected to follow behind their braver fellows, or to harass the serrin archers in the temple grounds. Surely they did not expect to see one lone, female serrin come charging at them with blood on her mind.
Rhillian, too, was faster afoot than Sasha, and arrived well ahead. She faked a strike, spun past, and felled one and then another with magnificent precision. Another aimed a halberd for her head, but Rhillian skipped back like a dancer, killed his companion who tried to outflank her, deflected a stab for her middle with a downward, vertical blade which miraculously changed to a horizontal, upward cut with a twist of wrists and elbows. The halberd-wielder fell, gushing blood from the throat.
Four dead before Sasha and Terel even arrived, the men from House Belis did not know what hit them. Sasha cut through one and found the others already scattering, those on the periphery falling as serrin arrows found them. Rhillian was already running to a dark gap in the walls opposite the corner of the Belis Mansion. Atop the mansion walls, Sasha caught a glimpse of activity within the guardpost arrowslit, confused crossbowmen not knowing who to shoot in the melee. She dived through the gap as Rhillian waited behind for Terel and Vinae.
There were steps in the narrow alley, leading downward, and Sasha risked her poor human eyesight, hoping to secure some distance for those behind to follow. She found a corner where a second alley ran off to the right and the slope dropped sharply. Above the next house, there was suddenly a view of the harbour well below, agleam with the last light of a half moon upon the horizon. Little ships, in silhouette against that silver light. Now, they just had to survive the descent.
Soft footsteps behind, above the ongoing yells and screams of men on the ridge road above. Terel emerged on the stairs, half carrying Vinae who seemed to have caught a crossbow bolt in the shoulder. Damn. Rhillian came past at speed, feet flying on the steps as Sasha would never have dared in the dark. She took the lead and Sasha fell behind, guarding the rear from any pursuit. It seemed unlikely. An open road was one thing, but an alley in the dark meant single combat with serrin for whom the night was as bright as any day.
They continued down the steps for a fair time, slowed by Vinae's injury. Rhillian took twists and forks with what Sasha presumed (or hoped) was local knowledge, occasionally turning back uphill, or over a short rise of stairs. Many times they passed rear gates in the walls and Sasha suffered bad memories of Riverside, spears and clubs lashing at her from unexpected dark corners. One time Rhillian actually missed a tripwire and triggered a nearby bell, which set a dog barking madly behind its wall. Rhillian seemed not to care, but Sasha could not escape the feeling of unseen eyes upon her back, aiming crossbow bolts in the dark.
Finally Rhillian paused atop some steps where a big tree grew against one wall, spreading thick roots through the surrounding stone. Terel helped Vinae to rest against the tree and tended to his injury. The bolt had struck him from behind, lodging through one shoulder blade. Terel took a knife to his clothes and began to relate his findings to Vinae in some Saalsi dialect Sasha could make no sense from at all. Vinae seemed somewhat reassured, pale and gasping, but alert.
“Those didn't look like family soldiers,” Sasha murmured to Rhillian as both of them crouched atop the uneven stone stairs. “All that clumsy armour, and silly weapons for city fighting. Halberds.”
“They were men of Danor Province,” said Rhillian. She seemed barely even out of breath, her green eyes sharp and calm, cutting through the dark. “That fool Duke Tarabai has been itching to have at us within the city for a while now. He disdained Patachi Steiner's warnings. Now he learns the patachi's wisdom.”
Sasha raised an eyebrow at her. “That's the only nice thing you've ever said about Patachi Steiner.”
“Nice? The wise are rarely nice, in this city. Petrodor wisdom is the mother of Petrodor brutality and intelligence its father. These terms are strange to serrin philosophy. No, I'm sure Patachi Steiner was pleased to set traps along the ridgetop after Riverside, and in light of the increased Nasi-Keth and serrin activity. But I don't think he'll shed tears for his upstart duke to learn his place, either.”
“I'm sure he'd rather have killed us all even more,” Sasha remarked.
Rhillian shrugged. “Tian'as fahr.” One could have said, “that meant, if one could know everything.” “Although captured for torture might be even more preferable to him.”
“Serrin are very good at assassinations,” Sasha remarked. “Why not just kill him?”
Rhillian shrugged. “Patachi Steiner is not the easiest target. Our numbers are not enormous. And there's no guarantee Symon Steiner will be any better. Patachi Steiner is at least open to more subtle forms of persuasion, and he is not yet in a state of total war with Saalshen.”
“Just limited war,” Sasha muttered.
“A perpetual state in Petrodor,” said Rhillian. “Today is just another day of business to the Big Patachi.” She eyed Sasha sideways. “You show distaste.”
“Say what you like about we highland barbarians,” said Sasha, “but at least we take war seriously. Here, it's just another transaction.”
“Honour,” said Rhillian, dubiously.
Sasha nodded. “Yes, honour. It's not such a bad concept, Rhillian. It imparts a price for every action.”
“And a reward for every crime,” said Rhillian, taking some dead leaves off the top step and wiping her bloody sword with them. “Lenays place honour on codes of behaviour in order to maintain the social order and hierarchy. Patachi Steiner places honour on power and wealth. It is a flexible concept, this ‘honour,’ neither inherently good nor evil. Like your blade, it depends on the hand that wields it.”
“At least Lenay honour is gained from the means rather than the ends,” Sasha insisted. It seemed important that Rhillian should understand. This woman was the most powerful and influential serrin in Petrodor. So much rested upon her decisions. The fate of humanity, in many ways. “In Petrodor, the ends can impart any crime with honour, should they be rewarding enough.”
“If you're asking for my personal preference of Lenay honour above the Petrodor variety,” said Rhillian, “then you have it. But I shall always dislike ‘honour’ as a concept. Too often it serves to impart respectability upon the most vile of crimes. King Leyvaan's men gained great honour murdering serrin children two centuries ago. Even your wonderful Lenays have a long, bloody history of pillage, murder and rape, all in the name of honour. You are better behaved these days, and honour means different things to you, but that only proves the dangerous ambiguity of the concept.”