Errollyn shrugged. “It's possible.”
“But good terms to do what? Side with Saalshen against Patachi Steiner? It would be suicide. Surely Randel Ragini did not love Saalshen so much?”
“You're asking the wrong man,” said Errollyn. “Rhillian is my friend but, on some things, she trusts me little.”
“Well you're here talking to me,” Sasha observed, “so I suppose that's logical.”
Errollyn smiled, and gazed away at North Pier. “We didn't know what it would do, you know.”
“I'm sorry?”
“Trade,” he said. “Two hundred years ago, Saalshen left humans alone. We thought it unwise to interfere. Then King Leyvaan invaded and we realised we had no choice.
“And so we began trading. Petrodor seemed a good place to start-only a sleepy village back then, but well positioned on the mouth of the Sarna River with access to inland Torovan and Lenayin beyond. Saalshen knew many skills and crafts that humans did not. Our medicines were in great demand, and our steel even more so. For a while, Saalshen was influential. There was so much wealth in the trade, and every human was desperate to please us lest we stop the supply. The great serrin thinkers who led the push for trade with humans were commended. This way, it was reasoned, we could control humans without having to resort to human concepts of empire and conquest. Empire and conquest sits with us very ill. Even today, much of Saalshen remains vastly uncomfortable with our role in the Saalshen Bacosh. Despite all the good we've done, still many wonder if we did the right thing in occupying those lands and changing them as we did.
“And today…well.” Errollyn locked a bare muscular arm about an upraised knee and sighed. “The Saalshen Bacosh trades many of the items that were once only available from Saalshen. Those skills, too, are spreading. Today we threaten the families with boycott, and they merely shrug. Worse, I fear our threats of boycott are only encouraging them to make war on the Saalshen Bacosh. They feel the Saalshen Bacosh, once captured, will be ample restitution for the trade they shall lose from Saalshen itself. Trade is no longer a potent weapon of Saalshen. Some say we should withdraw trade now, to punish those who move against us…but then, we lose leverage entirely.
“I tell Rhillian every day that we do not understand humans well enough to move against them as we do. Two centuries ago, not a soul predicted what has come to pass today. Humans are a dynamic society, fast to change. Serrin are not. And yet serrin, with our superior talents, refuse to accept our own ignorance. We are digging a hole for ourselves, Sasha. Rhillian insists that it is a tunnel with the bright light of hope at the far end. I say it is our graves.”
“Not all humans stand against you,” Sasha said quietly.
Errollyn gazed at her. His green eyes were not as sharp as Rhillian's. They were deeper, more jade than emerald. But still, they were brilliant and far from human. “I know,” he said simply. “If only someone would tell Rhillian.”
“Surely Rhillian does not consider all humans her enemy?” Sasha asked, incredulously.
“No.” Errollyn shook his head. “Rhillian believes…it is the philosophical precept of the rhan'ist and the tula'shan.” Or that was what Sasha thought he'd said. Errollyn was the most plainspoken serrin Sasha had ever met and yet, when he switched to serrin philosophy, even he sounded alien.
“Go very, very slowly,” she told him.
Errollyn made a face. “It's too difficult in Saalsi,” he said instead in Lenay, “most of the words lack even basic translation. Rhillian believes that there is no problem with humans at all. She likes humans.” A massive overtranslation, Sasha knew-serrin were rarely so simple in their feelings toward anything. But such was Errollyn's style. “She believes the problem lies in human society. Buy her an ale one night and I'm sure she'll be happy to explain it to you.”
Sasha frowned. “You mean one human is good, but a hundred humans is bad?”
Errollyn smiled. “Exactly. One human is just a person. A hundred humans make a society. And societies have kings, and religions and priests, and all these other things serrin completely fail to understand.”
Sasha shrugged. “Sounds quite sensible to me. I mean, look at Master Tongren in the The Fish Head. I've only dealt with Cherrovan before as a society, and they're no fun at all. But one Cherrovan…well, he's just Tongren. A decent, good-humoured man.”
Errollyn nodded. “Rhillian believes that human societies always define themselves by their narrowest possible interests. That they are exclusive, not inclusive. She likes humans, but distrusts their societies. And so she expects no help at all for Saalshen from humans. She feels Saalshen has been too forgiving and gentle for too long. She has a good heart, Sasha, but she is convinced that the time has come for Saalshen to take hard actions and make difficult choices.”
Given what she knew of Saalshen's enemies, Sasha did not feel she could blame Rhillian particularly for that. “And what do you believe?”
Errollyn sighed. “I believe that the fate of Saalshen is in humanity's hands,” he said quietly. “Humans shall either be our salvation, or they shall be our destruction. And Rhillian, I'm afraid, may make the latter all the more likely.”
He looked up, seeing someone approaching. Sasha looked and found Kessligh striding along the planks. He wore a loose shirt, rough pants and a floppy hat like Sasha's own, but she'd have recognised that stride anywhere. His approach gave her an unaccustomed feeling of trepidation deep in her stomach.
Kessligh sat cross-legged in the middle of the pier, straight-backed and perfectly flexible, whatever his fifty summers. “I've just come from the Fishnet Alley Courtyard,” he said, without preamble. “Some of your peers were a little upset.”
“I'm sorry!” Sasha exclaimed. “I just couldn't take it any more! They say they're enlightened, but they're all bigots!”
“Bigots?” Kessligh asked, an eyebrow raised.
“Yes, bigots! They treat women like the bigots treat the serrin, or the Xaldians! And worst of all, I'm a Lenay and a woman…I know I promised I'd hold my temper, but how are they ever going to learn otherwise if I don't prove them wrong?”
Kessligh exhaled hard and glanced at Errollyn, who seemed as amused as ever. “They have been a little slower in accepting the notion of a female uma than I'd hoped,” Kessligh conceded. “It's been thirty years since I was last here. I'd hoped things had changed, at least a little.”
Errollyn shook his head. “They're worse,” he said. “The rise of pagan ideas has alarmed the priesthood. There is a campaign for morality in all the temples, including the proper behaviour of women. Petrodor Nasi-Keth are open-minded by local standards, but they are also Verenthanes. Many attend temple services. The Nasi-Keth have never tried to shove serrin teachings down people's throats, they understood that the teachings would only succeed if people were allowed to pick and choose.”
“Maybe that was a mistake,” Kessligh said grimly. “So many people can't see their own hand before their face. No wonder Rhillian doesn't see much hope in the Nasi-Keth when she sees them moving backward.”
Errollyn shrugged. “If the Nasi-Keth do not reflect the values of the local population, how can they ever maintain their support? When balancing upon a high wall, one must sway both forward and backward.”
“I'm sorry I made them angry,” Sasha said earnestly. “But people like that are always going to be angry, one way or another.”
“It's all right, Sasha,” Kessligh said tiredly, holding up a hand. “I'm not angry at you. Many Nasi-Keth do respect you. The others just require some work.” He seemed more frustrated than Sasha had ever seen him, as if something gnawed at him, deep inside. In Lenayin he'd always seemed so calm, so certain. Perhaps Petrodor had always made him feel this way. Constrained. Limited by other people's petty prejudices.
He had left her in Lenayin, whilst she remained embroiled in her homeland's squabbles, to come to Petrodor, leaving the brewing war in the north. That had come to rebellion. She'd come to forgive him his absence for she knew that his loyalties to the Nasi-Keth were as inseparable to him as her love for Lenayin was to her. Now, however, she occasionally wondered if he regretted the decision himself.
“We have the name of a vessel en route from Ameryn,” said Kessligh. “It should arrive shortly. There's a large weapons shipment aboard. We're going to stop it.”
“You think this will win support from Gerrold and Alaine?” Sasha asked warily.
Kessligh shrugged. “I can't control that, their people will either follow me or not. We'll stop that weapons shipment because it's what we need to do. It's what I came to Petrodor to do.”
“But you want me to take a leading role?”
Kessligh gazed at her for a moment then smiled. “It would help,” he admitted. “The tradition here is that the uma's deeds reflect well on the uman. If I'm to build a following, it'll take a little more than a few bruises to some thick-skulled swordsmen in a training session.”
“Leading Lenayin's first rebellion in a century and defeating the Hadryn armoured cavalry in battle isn't enough?” Sasha asked, edgily.
“To these people, Lenayin's a long way away.”
Sasha snorted. “I'll help,” she said. “I don't want to see this war any more than you do. But there's something you should know first.” She looked at Errollyn.
Errollyn told Kessligh about Randel Ragini. Kessligh made a face and squinted off toward the ocean horizon. “Rhillian is too clever for her own good,” he said. “A sailor told me once that he'd known men who were brilliant at tying knots. But the real trick, he said, was to know when to tie them, and which knot went with which situation. Rhillian's tying her clever knots all over the city, but all she makes is a tangled rope.”
“The question is why Ragini?” said Sasha. “Is she trying to break up the Steiner alliance from within?”
Kessligh looked at Errollyn warily. “I rode all the way to Lenayin,” Errollyn said, “against Rhillian's wishes, to fight in a battle she said was none of my business. She no longer includes me in her plans.”
“Kessligh…” Sasha took a deep breath. “I have a contact. A potential contact, right at the highest level of Family Steiner.”
Kessligh shook his head. “It's too dangerous. And it's been fourteen years, you've no idea how she's changed…”
“Look, everyone says information is power, right?” Kessligh looked decidedly reluctant, but did not argue the point. “How stupid would we be, to have such an important contact and not use it at all? Just one piece of information! Marya's possibly the nicest person I've ever known, she wouldn't hurt a beetle! Maybe she doesn't even know half of what her new family does. Surely we should at least try?”
Jaryd had never seen a traditional Lenayin wedding before. The main road before the Steltsyn Star was a mass of dancing, cheering, feasting people. The inn's tables had been arrayed in a rough circle across the road, and serving boys and girls ran back and forth, hauling trays of roast meat, vegetable raal, breads, wines, fruits and cheeses. Musicians played and drums thundered as the sun disappeared behind the far valley ridge and the bonfire at the centre of the circle was finally lit, to the delight and shouting of all.