“Here, we are far from the border, and people are poor, uneducated and superstitious. They have much less support to offer us, and many won’t be too thrilled to see the only working system they’ve ever known abruptly pulled out from under them. Poor folk fear chaos as much or more than they fear their lords.”
“And how do you think to ensure that these lords will hold to the terms once the Steel have moved on?” asked Rhillian, sharply. “What will keep you safe from an attack on your rear, and on your lines of supply?”
“Noble honour,” said one of the captains, with heavy irony. Several smirked, finding that funny.
“No,” said Zulmaher, looking straight at Rhillian, “you will.” She stared back, a slight distance up for her-she was nearly as tall as the general, but her horse was not. There was a faint disconcertment in Zulmaher’s eyes, to meet her stare. “You say a thousand talmaad are on Crashuren lands…and perhaps three thousand in all Elisse?”
“Perhaps.”
“That is three thousand of the most formidable light cavalry ever fielded in battle. You can cover ground quickly between castles, remain alert of any uprisings, and carry word quickly should trouble arise. You can also harry, and gather quickly to put down any localised insurrection before it can gather pace.”
“We are not armoured cavalry to put down such heavy forces as the lords can muster,” Rhillian returned.
“When they muster in force, no,” Zulmaher agreed. “But these will be isolated pockets, if any. Their armour may be strong, but even light cavalry, in the numbers you possess, should be sufficient.”
Rhillian let out a snort, and stared at the castle. The flames on the tower showed no sign of abating. Large castles could withstand the hellfire for a greater time. Smaller castles like this one had little chance. Barely two days of bombardment, on the scale even a minor array of Steel artillery could deliver, would have towers ablaze and walls collapsing from the intense heat.
Serrin had given humans this power. Serrin oils, and serrin fires. Serrin steel, so formidable it had given the armies of the Saalshen Bacosh their name. Serrin bows had given human craftsmen ideas for new catapults, leading to advances in artillery that even without the hellfire were truly frightening. Human and serrin minds had combined to form a military of such killing power that it had no equal in all human lands. Thus far, the Steel had fought to protect Saalshen as much as human lands. But still, it was sometimes disquieting. Many great serrin thinkers, Rhillian knew, would look out at the Elissian battleground and wonder exactly what Saalshen had done to create this fire-breathing monster on its doorstep.
“Rhodaan had Saalshen’s approval for this war,” Rhillian said quietly, “on the understanding that the feudal nature of Elisse would be reversed. Feudalism is our death, General. It holds humanity in poverty, ignorance and powerlessness, leaving the masses of your people helpless to the predations of unchecked powerlust and fanatical religion-”
“It is not for Saalshen to tell humanity how to conduct our affairs with other humans,” General Zulmaher interrupted.
“No,” said Rhillian, “but it is for us to decide which of these actions we should support.”
Zulmaher’s grey eyes flashed dangerously. “Are you threatening to break your word to Rhodaan?”
“No more than you have broken your word to us.”
“I gave no such word.”
“You did. You said that you would liberate the Elissian people from their oppressors. We serrin have long memories, General. We know that a problem left unsolved will fester. This is our chance to solve the Elissian problem for good, and I feel you are squandering it.”
Zulmaher looked back to his army. The artillery lines were preparing to move.
“I am in no mood,” he said, “to have my commands dictated by the writ of Imperial Saalshen. You do what you will, M’Lady Rhillian. I shall do what I must, for Rhodaan.” He pressed his heels to his horse and rode toward the head of the forming column. His captains followed, several with final, unhappy looks at Rhillian. She stared at the castle, intact despite the burning tower, and wondered how many hundreds of Elissian fighting men were left within those walls, armed, armoured and undefeated. Perhaps five hundred, including heavy cavalry. And of Lord Crashuren, his lands intact, his rights undisturbed…all from here to the northernmost tip of the Elissian Peninsula, there would be other lords left the same, if General Zulmaher had his way.
Aisha rode up, Arendelle with her. “Did you hear that?” Rhillian asked them. Both nodded.
“He’s a feudalist,” Aisha said glumly. “I’m not surprised.”
“Why not?” Aisha was Enoran, born of a serrin mother and a human father. On matters of local motivations and politics, Rhillian trusted her judgement more than her own.
“His loyalties in Rhodaan lie with the old families,” Aisha said. “They’ve been battling for the restoration of more feudal rights in Rhodaan for a century or longer. What did you think he was going to do-continue to isolate his supporting families by abolishing all feudalism in Elisse?”
“His captains did not appear happy,” Arendelle remarked, watching the command party riding off. “There are some in Rhodaan who would call his position traitorous.”
“Zulmaher is a proud Rhodaani,” Aisha said. “He’s fought and won many battles for his people, and suffered many wounds. He believes the feudal ways are the natural ways of humanity… I doubt he’d wish them all restored to what they were-even he can’t deny that things are so much better today than before the fall of Leyvaan. But the old families are wealthy, and in human lands, wealth creates power. It seems natural, to such men.”
“And he resents the power that Saalshen has over Rhodaan,” Rhillian added. “Did you hear him, ‘the writ of Imperial Saalshen’?”
Aisha nodded. “He’s very polite to us when it suits him, but most feudalists believe the current chaos in Tracato was Saalshen’s plan to neuter Rhodaan and all the Saalshen Bacosh. It means little to him that Saalshen withdrew its last true imperial writ over a century ago. He believes Rhodaan needs a strong leader to be glorious, and the current system of council and High Table only combine to make a weak leadership. It’s supposed to be a plan of Saalshen to divide and rule the Saalshen Bacosh, whatever their supposed independence.”
“Of all the strange human concepts I’ve discovered,” Rhillian said sourly, “I believe the one I like least may be ‘nostalgia.’”
“Worse than ‘war’ or ‘rape’ or ‘pillage’?” Arendelle asked her.
“Yes,” said Rhillian, “because the one leads to the others so frequently.”
“So do ‘revolutions,’” Aisha said quietly. “Yet that is what we propose for Elisse.”
“I know,” Rhillian sighed. “You are Enoran, and you remember your history. But one bloody episode has led to two centuries of relative peace and prosperity, Aisha. Sometimes, the ends do justify the means.”
“And other times,” said Aisha, “blood is repaid with blood.”
Five
E RROLLYN AWOKE TO THE SOUNDS OF THE COURTYARD CAMP beyond the windows. It was louder than previous mornings. Cattle were lowing. Hooves clopped on stone. Tent straps rattled, and there were voices, gruff with sleep. He could smell campfires. A rooster crowed.