Tracato: A Trial of Blood and Steel Book Three (46 page)

“She leaves Errollyn because she won’t force him to fight his own people,” Kessligh replied, edgily. “He would have followed her. He follows her too much, she knows that. She will find it difficult enough herself, to fight on that side, she would not inflict it upon Errollyn.”

“Human emotion is a fickle thing. Humans change on a whim.”

“Serrin too,” said Kessligh. “You used to be a nice girl.”

“Petrodor changed that,” Rhillian said bitterly. “You did not mind your tongue on my failings there. Now you play precious.”

The guiding pair of cityfolk turned down a dark, narrow lane. Soon they came to a nondescript door, and knocked a rhythm on the wood. A panel slid back, a password was given, and the door creaked open. The corridor beyond was narrow and gloomy, leading to a ramshackle courtyard beneath an open sky. Beyond the courtyard, a wide door led to a kitchen, grain and flour scattered about, signs of breadmaking, trails leading to a clay oven in the courtyard.

Two more city men awaited in the kitchen, blades drawn. Kessligh judged from their posture that they were ex-Steel, probably officers. A further door opened, and a small figure was ushered into the kitchen. There came barely enough moonlight through the windows for Kessligh to see his plain city clothes and longish hair about a slim, fine-featured face. The boy came forward on his own, to stand between the two big guards. Kessligh’s five Nasi-Keth remained in the courtyard, all armed, as were he and Rhillian. It would not matter. Rhillian’s upward glances told him that her serrin eyes had found archers in the courtyard windows. Crossbowmen, no doubt, and numerous. The corridors were too narrow for great swordplay, swinging the advantage back in the favour of Steel-trained men with no need for flourishing strokes. This was a death trap, should their invitees wish it to be.

“You came,” observed the boy Alfriedo Renine. His high voice was calm. Regal, Kessligh thought. Though not in a manner anyone familiar with the Lenay royal family might recognise.

“Alfriedo,” said Rhillian, and made a faint bow. “You seem well. I am pleased.” Kessligh stood with both hands on his staff. The boy seemed to frown, as though displeased that he did not bow as well.

Behind Alfriedo, one of several shadows scoffed loudly. “Be silent, Aleis,” said Alfriedo. And to Rhillian, “I do believe you, Lady Rhillian. I was not mistreated at the Mahl’rhen, quite the contrary. I was unhappy that some of your serrin comrades were killed in my rescue. I would have preferred a negotiated settlement. You have my condolences.”

Again, Rhillian inclined her head. “I accept them. In truth, my comrades were sloppy. Serrin are not known for great defence. We do not build in high walls, as we do not think in straight lines. It is offence to which our minds are most adapted.”

“You do not make threats here!” said the shadow by the kitchen bench behind. Kessligh strained his eyes, but could not make out the face. No doubt Rhillian could observe every feature. “You come because the power swings our way, and you have no choice, you do not make threats!”

“Aleis!” said Alfriedo in annoyance, turning fully about. “Am I the child,
or are you? Hold your tongue like a man.” Kessligh was impressed. Alfriedo turned back to Rhillian. “Again, my apologies. Much has occurred, and many tempers raised.”

“I was not making a threat,” Rhillian said calmly. “Merely an observation. The time for threats has passed. I come to talk peace, for the sake of Rhodaan, in the light of the most terrible threat Rhodaan has yet faced.”

“You have finished your collaboration with the Civid Sein?”

“There was no collaboration,” said Rhillian. “They are opportunists. When your mother’s actions forced me to act and suspend the Council, the Civid Sein took the chance to flex their arm.”

“And my mother is dead because of it,” said Alfriedo. For the first time, his voice betrayed emotion.

“A great many people are dead,” Rhillian replied. “A majority of them Civid Sein. If my actions against the Civid Sein at the Justiciary are not sufficient proof that I do not side with their kind, I do not know what is.”

“Son,” Kessligh said tiredly, leaning on his staff, “you must understand the serrin motivation. Serrin do not act on spite. Rhillian was amongst the first to discover your mother’s death, and was sad about it. She sought to maintain an equilibrium. A balance, to the powers of Tracato. She saw your mother’s faction grow too strong, which in turn caused a backlash from the rural folk, most notably in the form of the Civid Sein—”

“You blame
us
for their rise?” Alfriedo interrupted, his high voice quavering.

“I’m a military strategist, primarily,” said Kessligh. “To every act on the battlefield, there is a response. As general, I am responsible for my enemy’s actions too, for everything I do, my opponent will counter. A clever general can use this to manipulate his enemy. Do you wish to be a clever general, Alfriedo? Or merely a boy protesting that his opponent did not play by the rules?”

Alfriedo did not reply. His thin shoulders heaved in the silence, as he struggled for calm.

“Your mother had groomed you to rule,” said Kessligh, leaning more closely. “Had proclaimed that yours is the birthright of kings. To rule, you must be a general, and accept that
nothing
is beyond your control. Some in Lenayin call me the greatest swordsman of that land, and think it a gift granted by the gods or spirits. But in truth, I achieved this merely because I refused to accept that my opponent could best me. I controlled the battle, not him. And if he killed me, it would be my failure, not his success.

“Do not take your losses and griefs as insults inflicted by others, young Alfriedo. If you were truly born to rule, you would accept them as failings of your own, and resolve to learn better.”

Alfriedo gazed at him for a long moment. Kessligh wondered if he had indeed judged the boy rightly, or if this would only push him over the edge.

“You do not believe in the rule of kings,” Alfriedo observed finally. “How do you then claim to know so much of their kind?”

“It is because I know so much of their kind that I do not believe in them. And I speak not merely of kings, but of men. Of leaders of all stripes. A true leader knows that knowledge and wisdom are all, but wisdom tells that not all men possess it. Thus, it would be folly to leave the ruling of lands entirely to kings.”

“Even should that king be you?”

“Suppose it was,” said Kessligh. “Suppose I ruled well. But who would follow?”

“My mother ruled well,” Alfriedo said stubbornly. “As did my ancestors, when Rhodaan was a true kingdom. I would follow.”

“Your ancestors were murderers, thieves and tyrants,” said Kessligh. “The serrin document it well. If you wished I have no doubt they would lend you many writings that say so, writings by reliable humans of the period, not merely by serrin. Your mother attempted to steal the Rhodaani people’s voice in Council from under their noses. She bred hatred among the common folk, and destabilised Rhodaan so that Saalshen felt it had no choice but to step in. She is now dead, you are orphaned, there is blood all over the Justiciary steps, the grand institutions of Rhodaan that have served so well for two centuries are in turmoil, and the Steel is less well prepared for the greatest challenge of its existence than it should be.

“I have hope that you may lead your people well, young Alfriedo. But have no illusions that should you do so, you would be the first.”

There was a bristling of anger in the kitchen, but this time, no outbursts. Alfriedo remained silent for a moment. Then he looked at Rhillian.

“Our differences remain,” he said to her, “yet our greatest threat is a common one, and marches upon our border from the west. I will make a pledge with you, Lady Rhillian, that all who follow me shall refrain from any violent acts against serrin, Nasi-Keth, or any institution of Rhodaan that we may consider moved against us. In return, you shall allow the Blackboots to re-form, and reinstate all senior city officials dismissed from their institutions. That includes the Council and their councillors, of course. Those who are still alive.”

“I accept your truce offer,” Rhillian said calmly, “and I return it. The Blackboots shall be re-formed with no penalties to those who cast off uniforms and fought in militia. Any who committed crimes against innocents, however, may be brought to justice should witnesses come forward.”

“The only innocents against whom crimes were committed were our women and children at the hands of Civid Sein thugs!” came a snarl from behind. Alfriedo, Rhillian and Kessligh ignored it.

“We will discuss the reinstatement of city officials,” Rhillian continued. “Some, you may recall, have been implicated in treason. Trials for such matters can obviously wait until after the war in the west is resolved, but we must come to an agreement on interim appointees in the meantime.”

“Agreed,” said Alfriedo, frowning in thought. “How?”

“A sitting of the High Table,” said Rhillian. “But first, we must resolve the High Table and Council. At our count, we have lost seven of our hundred councillors dead, with another three unaccounted for. Of those absent ten, six are known to be feudalists.”

“We count six and five,” came the first helpful interjection from behind.

“We shall compare our names and numbers later,” said Alfriedo. “These people must be replaced before Council sits. I believe two of the missing are on the High Table.”

“Indeed. This shall be our first order of business, but there are others on both sides who should attend such discussions. We must agree on a location for a meeting tomorrow, and on who should attend. Once we have made those appointments, we can have the High Table sit, and begin deciding which city officials should be reinstated, and which should be replaced. Agreed?”

“Yes,” said Alfriedo. “Let’s begin.”

“That’s a damn smart kid,” Kessligh remarked as they walked up from the docks some time later, in the company of their Nasi-Keth guards.

“He is,” Rhillian said sombrely. “But intelligence is guarantee of nothing. He is still his mother’s son.”

“We shall see.”

“And they’re all fools to trust a fourteen-year-old to do their negotiating anyway, no matter how smart,” Rhillian sighed. “Fancy entrusting leadership of any group to a person determined by lineage alone. No serrin had believed such an anachronism could possibly still exist two centuries after King Leyvaan.”

“Human ideals die hard,” said Kessligh. “Logic plays little role.”

“Do you think it will hold?” Rhillian asked him. The truce, she meant.

“We can try. The strength of the Steel is a great blessing, but a minor curse too. No one has taken seriously the prospect that they might actually lose. And so, even confronted by a common threat as immense as this one, it fails to unite Rhodaanis in its face.”

“I must soon leave,” said Rhillian. “I am ordering the last significant
force of
talmaad
in Tracato to go in support of the Steel, they shall need all the help they can get.”

“Must you command them?”

“I have experience,” said Rhillian. “It is expected.”

“If the Steel are defeated,” said Kessligh, “all Rhodaani forces as can muster should depart for Enora immediately. We must continue the fight from there.”

“You think a defeat is likely?”

“Not likely. But where the Army of Lenayin is in play, anything is possible. I am stuck here in Tracato, so I have nothing better to do than make contingencies. The Steel is vastly experienced, but the one thing they have never experienced is defeat. I do not think it shall be pretty. They are a complex, structured force, and rely upon total control of the battlefield to maintain that structure. In defeat and withdrawal, that structure shall disappear and will be nearly impossible to regain, in the face of what numbers are arrayed against them. I predict either victory or rout. In the event of a rout, the Steel’s commanders shall march as fast as possible to Enora. Retreating to Tracato shall make no sense, it would be just asking for encirclement.”

“And given the Steel’s strength, Tracato has allowed its own defensive walls to fall into disrepair, and the city to expand well beyond them.”

“You see the problem. The border is defensible. Tracato is not.”

“And Saalshen’s border shall be open to its enemies for the first time in two hundred years.”

There was fear in Rhillian’s voice. Rhodaan’s people too would be at great risk of the predations of invading Larosans, but Kessligh did not think her fear selfish. Rhodaanis were human, and invaders would expect to return them to the status of vassals beneath a feudal overlord. Serrin, to the Larosans and others, were demons and deserved death to the last child.

“They must deal with the entire Saalshen Bacosh before attempting Saalshen itself,” said Kessligh, with more confidence than he felt. “That will be no easy thing, even if Rhodaan were to fall.”

“But they’ll never have so many forces mustered for the task as now,” Rhillian said quietly. “They’ll not waste the opportunity, no matter what their casualties. They’ll take the plains as far as the Telesil foothills, as Leyvaan did last time, only they won’t repeat his mistake and march into the forests. Those they’ll take piece by piece, clearing with axes as they go. It may take decades, but Saalshen will die a slow death. We cannot defeat such massed armour on our own.”

If only, Kessligh was tempted to say, Saalshen had built heavy, armoured armies of its own. If only they had been willing to reorganise their society to
accommodate such a militaristic change. With serrin, “if only” solved nothing. They were what they were, and change came to them with the utmost difficulty. And perhaps, he had often pondered, in changing to face such a threat, the serrin would lose that very thing that made them so worth defending in the first place.

“I tried my best,” Rhillian said, her voice small. “I tried to keep Rhodaan stable. I do not have a good record of achieving in human society that which I attempt to achieve, but…but I do not see what else I could have done.”

For a moment, Rhillian appeared as Kessligh had rarely seen her—lonely and vulnerable.