“That is a wise use of force. That is the only use of force we should contemplate. Not this…this brash, dangerous action against the most lucrative arms shipments of the greatest family in Petrodor! Yes, we should help the serrin to defend the Saalshen Bacosh as best they can, but our first priority should always be to our own!”
“If the Saalshen Bacosh falls,” came a retort, “then Saalshen itself is threatened. If Saalshen falls, the Nasi-Keth shall wither on the vine. We do fight for our own, it's only that your vision is neither broad nor perceptive enough to perceive it!”
“We have neither the strength,” said Alaine, decisively, “nor the strategy to contemplate this course of action. We are many, yet not so many that we can afford to waste man after man against the power of the patachis. Have you seen the forces they gather from the provinces? The dukes swear their loyalty and they command entire armies. If they attack us here, we can defeat them, for we own these streets and alleys and no force can take them from us. But to waste good men on such foolish diversions is pointless!
“Look at the good people we have lost! Galthraite, one of our best swordsmen. Aiden, a fine leader. My friend Bron, the mason. Even Kessligh's own uma, legend though some claimed her to be…if even she cannot survive such folly, what chance do the rest of we mere mortals have?”
“Why, Alaine!” Sasha said loudly. “That's the nicest thing you've yet said about me. Legend? That sounds much nicer than whore, or fool, or pagan barbarian!”
The room stopped, and everyone turned to look. Men she knew, Kessligh's followers, stared in disbelief. One grinned. “Sweet Sadis, girl! I didn't even see you back there!”
Sasha climbed up on the bar and walked across mugs and hands to the thick of the group, her temper at a slow boil. Alaine, further from the bar, stared up in disbelief. “It's nice to know you'll respect me so much more when I'm dead,” she told him.
Nearer the bar, men moved aside to clear a space. And there was Kessligh, risen from his chair, and looking at her with…a look of as great an emotion or relief as she'd ever seen him wear. She struggled to contain her own emotion, and jumped down into the space. And grinned up at her uman. He nearly grinned back, a smile of wry, twisted delight, and took her arms. “You'll be the death of me,” he said, attempting gruffness.
“That seems only fair,” Sasha retorted and hugged him, hard. Kessligh hugged her back, harder. “I'm sorry I'm late, but I got cut off. Yulia is well, Liam is back there…” and she pointed back toward where she'd seen him last, “and our serrin friend Errollyn is also well. Our friend Rodery died with great honour, against formidable odds, and took several of his enemy with him. He shall be remembered with pride.”
Men turned to find Liam and shake his hand, or clap his shoulder. He took it sombrely, with little apparent joy.
“You speak the brave words of a Lenay warrior,” said Alaine as the commotion died. Alaine was a man of memorable appearance and no little charisma. He had shoulder-length black hair in light curls. His nose was big, his cheekbones pronounced, and his eyes were deep and dark beneath prominent brows. On his pointed chin, he wore a black goatee. “Yet it is not for you, Lenay princess, to speak of how our fallen men shall be remembered.”
“Does honour mean nothing to you, Alaine?” Sasha asked sharply. “It certainly meant something to Rodery.”
“Honour means as much to the people of Petrodor as it does to you!” Alaine retorted, dark eyes flashing with anger. “It is not for foreigners to try to tell us what our honour means!”
Sasha recalled her recent conversation with Rhillian in the alley. “A dear friend of mine told me recently that honour, like most human concepts, has no fixed meaning and should thus be distrusted. I say that all human concepts have no fixed meaning, and yet, should we distrust them all, we shall be left with nothing. I am Lenay, yet should you choose to confer Torovan honour upon me, I would be flattered. It would be most enlightened of you, Alaine, to accept my Lenay honour in the same spirit.”
“Oh aye,” said Alaine, imitating her accent, “and would it also be enlightened of me to die for your highland honour? If I'll die for any honour, it shall be for the honour of Petrodor, not for the glory of Lenayin!”
“This solves nothing,” said Kessligh, pulling Sasha back before she could advance on Alaine. “Alaine, you say that as Nasi-Keth our primary loyalty should be to Petrodor.”
“And have always said so!” Alaine said proudly.
“Your argument is sound-your path is indeed a path we could follow.” Kessligh spoke with none of Alaine's loud passion. When Kessligh spoke, each word mattered and men listened intently, whatever their personal persuasion. “Yet Petrodor is no island. Neither is any of the powers of Rhodia. Petrodor's current wealth was granted it, unwittingly perhaps, by Saalshen. Lenayin's current stake in Verenthane politics was inflicted upon it by Petrodor. The Bacosh invaded Saalshen two centuries ago, and Saalshen replied with a considerably more successful invasion. Now, the fates of both Saalshen and the Bacosh are inextricably interwoven.
“The fates of all the powers of Rhodia are likewise interwoven. You state that we should not place the fate of the Saalshen Bacosh, nor of Saalshen herself, above our own fate. Yet you fail to see that these two fates are in fact one, single fate. Indeed, were it not for the occupation of the Saalshen Bacosh, the Nasi-Keth would not have been granted such a safe haven from which to grow and spread across Rhodia-in particular here, to Petrodor. You attempt with your arguments to isolate what cannot be isolated.
“Should a united Verenthane army march against the Saalshen Bacosh, the patachis would strike perhaps their greatest blow against the gravest threat to their own power here in Petrodor-us. They will surely attack on into Saalshen, and the serrin will find themselves with more pressing matters at home than the fate of the Nasi-Keth in Petrodor. Imagine, no more cheap serrin blades. No more medicines. No more friendly advice, and occasional military assistance. No more precious information. Then, Alaine, we should truly be alone, and it would be no good thing at all.”
Alaine shook his head with a grin of disbelief. “You argue just like Gerrold!” he exclaimed, pointing to a man seated upon the other side of the triangle. Gerrold was older, of more than sixty summers, with long white hair and a kindly lined face. “Why not just join with him, should you love your serrin brothers and sisters so kindly? Why pursue this madness against targets that even Gerrold does not support?”
“Gerrold loves the serrin,” Kessligh said calmly, “and the serrin surely love him. He would follow their lead, especially the lead of Rhillian. I say that Rhillian does not know humanity as well as she thinks. She tries to make House Maerler and House Steiner fight, and thinks to side with Maerler. It is the worst thing she can do. If either of the great families actually wins, and wins conclusively, it shall be a disaster for us. Rhillian does not understand that it is not final conclusions that are essential, but a continued balance of power. Such a balance keeps the great houses constrained, too scared of each other to take great risks. But one of the great families, victorious and unconstrained, will have no such hesitation. Maerler would happily lead a Torovan army to Saalshen to slaughter all the serrin it could find, they have no greater love of Rhillian and her cause than Steiner does.”
“Your solution is to do nothing,” said Gerrold, with a helpless shrug. Sasha thought it sad that he and Kessligh should find themselves opposed. “Saalshen have had enough of doing nothing. Rhillian does not trust human politics, and I agree with her. She wishes that Saalshen should finally demonstrate its power, and its willingness to use it.”