“I remember everything about Krystoff,” Sasha said faintly. “Everything.”
Kessligh frowned at her. “You were more angry with him for sending you out of his chambers than for bedding some courtly slut?”
Sasha shrugged. “I didn't know what they were doing. Krystoff only explained that to me later. I was just mad that he preferred her company to mine. And you shouldn't use that language about her, whatever she did. I've been hearing that talk from too many Torovan men, and I'm sick of it.”
“Petrodor's not growing on you, I see,” Kessligh observed wryly.
“It was,” Sasha said. “It was, then it stopped.” No one had resolved the dispute with Liam. No one seemed to truly believe his claims about her swordwork, but it made little difference. People sided with him, or with her and Kessligh, based upon their previous inclinations. Liam's defiance was a symbol, and the facts counted for nothing. Sasha hated it. What could a person do when others cared nothing for facts? Her credibility, and thus Kessligh's, was at stake, and yet there remained no recourse. In Lenayin, such lies and accusations were a lethal offence, trialled by lethal means. Sasha could not see how a society such as the good and honest one the Nasi-Keth were trying to build here in Petrodor could survive if truth had no recourse, and thus no value. It made her doubt if there was anything in Petrodor worth fighting for. Anything besides Kessligh, that was. And the serrin, Rhillian and Errollyn in particular.
Liam had moved out of the Velo household and travelled with Alaine's group these days. Some others who had followed Kessligh now did the same. Kessligh's following shrank, and some of those Sasha saw would not speak to her. Lately, when not helping Family Velo earn a living, she'd spent more time with the serrin. Errollyn seemed angry and disillusioned too. Of Rhillian, there'd been little sign.
“I don't like it,” said Kessligh. “It might be a trap. You might go there to find Marya and discover a hundred Steiner soldiers instead.”
“On that cliff? There's no way to hide from our approaches, we can scout the area in advance. Kessligh, she was concerned. I think she might have even been scared of what she'd married into.”
“I don't see how someone as smart as your sister could live in that household for any period and not grasp what her beloveds do for a living,” Kessligh said bluntly.
“The way men treat women in this city?” Sasha retorted. “She's little more than a servant, she does what she's told, she raises the children…Marya's never been political, she was never interested in which lords were doing what things to whom…”
“You were six when she married,” Kessligh reminded her.
“Yes, but I used to talk with Krystoff about her, she was Krystoff's friend too.”
“And you were only eight when Krystoff died.”
“And my memory is amazing, you said it yourself.” Kessligh exhaled hard. “I know her, Kessligh,” Sasha insisted. “I know her well. It wouldn't surprise me at all if she didn't have a clue the way her family go about business in this city. Look, she's very devout, I remember that very well, the only times I recall enjoying temple services were with her, she'd take my hand and explain all the devotions as we went, and who all the saints and gods were, and I'd think that if Marya thought it was important, then I'd do it just to please her. Someone's killing priests. If it's her family that's involved…she'd be horrified, Kessligh. Father Portus says she's his friend. What if she's scared for him? Who could she turn to? Not her own family, obviously. Not Maerler, that's treason, and she's too loyal.”
“Halmady,” Kessligh suggested. “They're supposed to be allies.”
“And right now that might be considered treason too.” Kessligh made a face as if conceding the point. “Or proof that Halmady really are plotting something against Steiner, with Marya their first recruit within Steiner walls. Who can help? I'm Nasi-Keth, but I'm also her sister. Nasi-Keth can sneak into all sorts of places, and the docks could be a refuge for priests whose lives are in danger-they'd be safe here, even fat-bellied Porsada Temple blue-bloods. They might be high-slopers, but they're priests, and-” Boom! a nearby thunderclap cut her short. Sasha swore as men outside cursed and laughed. “Damn I hate lightning.”
“That's because you're superstitious,” Kessligh said unhelpfully, having barely flinched.
“And,” Sasha resumed her train of thought, “dockfront labourers are Verenthanes too. They'd not harm a priest, and would probably protect him from any outsiders who sought to do so.”
Kessligh thought about it for a moment as the boat rocked and heavy boots thumped overhead, and the rain fell even harder. It seemed suddenly absurd-the two of them sitting here plotting such grand things. Two little people, alone in a boat in a storm. They could be struck down by a lightning bolt at any moment. And yet they sat, and plotted, as if they thought to change the fate of the entire city. And many things beyond.
Kessligh's lips twisted, a humourless grimace. He kicked lightly at the bench alongside where Sasha sat. “I'm sorry I dragged you into all this,” he said then. And met her gaze, sombrely.
Sasha stared back. “No, you're not.” And then, as the portent of his words struck her, “No, you're not…gods! Don't say that! You said it yourself, all my life has been leading up to this, in one way or another! Don't you dare tell me I've wasted it!”
“I didn't mean it like that,” Kessligh said simply. “I'm just…” He sighed and shook his head faintly. “I'm just sorry, that's all.”
“There's a lot of things in the world to be sorry about,” Sasha retorted, somewhat disturbed by this uncharacteristic display of uncertainty from her uman. “It changes nothing.”
“On some big matters,” said Kessligh, businesslike once more, “the archbishop's council will be sought. Exactly how he arrives at his decisions is a guarded secret. Rumour has it that there is a vote of some kind, amongst the brotherhood. Other rumours say the archbishop decides alone, or waits for signs from the gods.”
“Like lightning strikes,” Sasha muttered, glancing toward the hold door.
“Exactly. Killing priests could be a precursor to something. A big decision. If we knew what that decision was going to be, perhaps in exchange for the protection of a few priests, it could be worth a lot.”
Sasha nodded. But, “You still don't sound very certain.”
“I'm not. Suspicion is wise, Sasha, when everyone's trying to kill you. Who will you take with you? I cannot offer anyone, our numbers are too small now as it is. Time spent on missions for the Nasi-Keth is time away from work and livelihoods.”
“I'd thought maybe Errollyn,” Sasha admitted. “But I've been told he's away. Saalshen's been spread even thinner than we have. Rhillian tries to watch everyone and trusts few other sources of information these days.”
Kessligh nodded. “Take whoever you can find. When did Father Portus say?”
“Tomorrow.”
Sasha climbed a paved path at the foot of the incline. The rain was light now and rays of sunlight speared orange through broken black cloud. Recalling the directions she'd been given, she turned left into a narrow alley overgrown with thick tree roots and knocked on a door.
“Who is it?” came the call from inside-a woman's voice.
“A friend of Yulia's!”
The door opened readily enough-once upon a time, folks in these parts had been too scared to open doors to strangers, but that had changed as the Nasi-Keth's power had grown and law came to the streets. The people's law, not the families’. A woman peered out at her suspiciously. Sasha adjusted her hat, now wet with rain. “Nasi-Keth,” the woman snorted. “What do you want?”
“To speak to Yulia,” said Sasha, attempting patience.
“Yulia doesn't speak to Nasi-Keth any longer!” the woman snapped. “Go away!”
Sasha put a hand on the door to stop it from closing. “Are you her mother?”