“There are those who say that evil is the human who would fight for the strange folk against her own kind.” Marya refrained from making the holy sign as she spoke. The tri-braid in her sister's hair was not just an innocent decoration back in Lenayin. It was pagan. “It would be a sin, they say.”
“My own kind?” Sasha's stare was incredulous. “What in the world does that mean? I fight for what is right against what is wrong…how do evil slugs like the Regent Arrosh suddenly become imbued with holy virtue simply because they're of ‘my own kind’? As if humans have never fought humans before and called each other evil?”
“Family is always right, Sasha,” said Marya, with a shake of the head. “Family is always good. The betrayal of family is the greatest evil known.”
“Tell that to Patachi Ragini,” Sasha said firmly, a hard light in her dark eyes. “Your father-in-law murdered his son!”
“Oh, Sasha,” Marya sighed, gazing sadly at her little sister. “That's what I'm afraid of.”
Riverside stank. The Nasi-Keth moved quietly along the narrow streets and alleys, trying not to tread on anything foul in the dark. There were no sewers here on the bank of the River Sarna, on the opposite side of the Petrodor Incline. Only streets with small, open channels of running filth on either side. A few streets were cobbled and firm beneath Sasha's boots, but most were just hard earth that would turn to mud in the winter rains.
The only light came from within the dirty hovels that passed for houses. Firelight flickered between broken boards, and from behind soiled curtains of rough cloth that served for doors. The walls were so thin and irregular that Sasha could hear the voices within: the women scolding, the children crying and many folk coughing-a horrid, sickly sound. The accents were coarse, and not all spoke Torovan. Many were outcasts from neighbouring regions, Kessligh had said. Poor, unskilled and desperate, they came to Petrodor with little more than the clothes on their backs, and threw together ramshackle dwellings with whatever scrap they could find.
Here, they worked, begged and stole, eking out a living along the overcrowded river docks in conditions unfit for animals. The Nasi-Keth's latest count put the number of tortured souls in Riverside at more than sixty thousand. They had tried to gain converts here, but the people were mostly of superstitious country stock and clung to Verenthane ritual for comfort. Many called the Nasi-Keth witches, and it was not merely for protection from the families that the Nasi-Keth and serrin carried weapons in Riverside.
Soon the slums gave way to large wooden warehouses. Several Nasi-Keth took positions on the corner, while Aiden led the way down a tight alley alongside an old warehouse. Blades drawn, they came to a halt in the confined, garbage-strewn dark, while Aiden peered about the corner. Then he dashed, and disappeared in the gloom. Kessligh was next, and then Sasha. One look about the corner and she saw that they were directly on the River Dock, with water glinting in the darkness ahead and a great mass of barges and ships tied to piers.
Sasha ran, low and fast to a pile of broken wooden crates, and arrived beside Aiden and Kessligh, crouching on the pavings. “Can you see it?” she whispered, peering above the pile. Along the dock, shadows moved against sporadic firelight and she could make out the shape of a spear, or the point of a helm. Guards protecting the boats and their cargo.
“The fourth warehouse along,” said Kessligh, squinting into the darkness. “But I can't see the guards.”
A fourth set of footsteps arrived behind, and then Errollyn was at Sasha's side. No other serrin had come on this mission, but Errollyn had insisted.
“I see two guards by the Torack warehouse,” he said. “They wear Torack colours and the Torack emblem on their coats.”
“That's them,” Kessligh said grimly. The quarter moon had already been and fled, leaving the night black save for the flickering guard lights. “Can you see any carts? Any sign of transport?”
“No,” said Errollyn. He did not squint into the night-he gazed, eyes wide like an owl. Sasha watched him, faintly disconcerted. “Perhaps all the weapons are still on the boats.”
“They were supposed to start moving them off this afternoon,” said Aiden.
Kessligh gnawed at his lip. It was the only nervous gesture Sasha knew him to have. Steiner knew better than to unload weapons bound for the Bacosh or Lenayin on the main Petrodor Dock, with so many Nasi-Keth and serrin around. Instead they transferred cargo to smaller boats out at sea, which in turn came up the Sarna to unload in Riverside.
“Errollyn,” said Kessligh, “how many boats on the Torack pier?”
“Looks like…three square sloops and four barges. Barges at the far pier, sloops at the near.”
“Do we even know for certain those are the ships?” Sasha wondered.
“Yes,” said Aiden. “Three sources, all paid. None knew the others existed so they could not have coordinated their stories.”
“It's a high pass in hostile territory,” Sasha observed. In mountainous Lenayin, a high pass meant a narrow place where advancing forces could be trapped, and slaughtered. “I don't like it.”
“There's never anything to like about fighting in cities,” said Kessligh. “If there's been no unloading, it should all be on the boats still. We'll go with plan five for now, but tentatively. I need a scout. If we commit ourselves to the Torack warehouse entirely, we'll need to know what's in the neighbouring ones.”
“I'll go,” said Errollyn, flashing a smile in the dark. “I'm the only one here who can see.”
“Good,” said Kessligh. “And…”
“Me,” said Sasha. “I'm small and I'm sneaky.”
“But in a nice way,” said Errollyn. Sasha grinned.
“Sneaky in a Lenayin forest and sneaky in a city are not the same thing,” said Kessligh. “Better one of Aiden's lads should go.”
“I've ridden on campaign with Errollyn and fought two battles with him,” Sasha said firmly, giving Kessligh a firm stare. “We'll move better together.”
Kessligh's lips twisted unhappily. As if he felt guilty for pushing her into such a position. Sasha felt her heart swell at the sight of his concern. She knew it was stupid, but she couldn't help it. That concern, however, was not evident in his voice. “Stay low,” he said, “and pull back immediately if there's trouble.”
Sasha took the lead, moving between the old warehouse front and more piles of old crates, where little light penetrated. The warehouse looked abandoned, with nothing stored near that might require a guard. Errollyn followed, his bow in one hand.
The next alley provided cover, and the old warehouse's warped sides provided foot and hand holds for a climb to the roof. Errollyn covered Sasha, then slung his bow over a shoulder and climbed-the bow was nearly as tall as him, but it seemed to give him no problems. When he was up, Sasha pointed to the beam at one end and indicated up the sloping slate roof where it should run. Errollyn nodded, and Sasha moved up that line, careful not to put a foot to either side where the poor construction could plunge her straight through both roof and ceiling.
She paused at the roof's apex and peered across. The next warehouse was guarded. She could see figures standing watch along the riverside dock. From this high angle, she could see others seated behind crates and sacks, their crossbows leaning nearby. Some played dice by lamplight, and she could hear muted conversation and laughter. To her left, away from the river, Riverside sprawled, with only a few lights to break the desolation. Higher beyond rose Backside, referred to by the higher classes as the arse-end of Petrodor.
A hand came down on the tile to her side, and she realised that Errollyn had crawled almost directly on top of her to gain a view without abandoning the support of the beam beneath. The Torack warehouse was still three further along.
“The next roof,” he whispered in her ear. “We can jump the gap. Even I can't see enough from here.”
His knee was between her own, his body nearly pressing on her back. And she was amused at herself for noticing, with all else that was important in the night. She slithered over the apex and crawled down the opposing roof-side, careful to disperse her weight lest she dislodge a tile and bring guards running to investigate the clatter.
At the gap between warehouses, she paused and peered down. She could see nothing below, but there was a guard on the corner. The gap ahead was two armspans-simple enough in daytime, but at night, onto loose tiles, not so easy. She gathered to a crouch, then uncoiled and leapt. She landed comfortably enough, not even displacing a tile.
She crawled onward, feeling very pleased with herself-years of sneaking about forbidden places in Baen-Tar Palace, or climbing trees around Baerlyn, had not been in vain. She paused to wait for Errollyn, only to see that he'd already jumped behind her. She hadn't even heard him land.
Atop the apex of this rooftop, he crawled over her again. “I count nine guards,” he murmured in her ear, “but there could be plenty more. We should wait awhile, and see what comes.”
“Like this?” The thought was not unappealing. If Errollyn rolled to one side, the tiles would quite likely give way. If he crawled forward above the roof's apex, he'd risk being seen. No choice, really…
“You could slide down,” Errollyn suggested. “I see more than you.”
“Two pairs are better than one,” Sasha said quickly. “I might see something you don't recognise.”
Errollyn simply lay on her back, taking part of his weight on his arms. Sasha bit her lip. “Don't get too excited,” he told her. “This is strictly business.”
“Business can be fun too,” said Sasha. Dear spirits, they were twenty paces from men who would gladly kill them and she was flirting.
Sasha knew that however nice Errollyn's gentle bodyweight felt, and however his supporting arm seemed to half wrap around her in a partial embrace, she should not take it too personally. She'd seen serrin exchange even more intimate physical affections without appearing to mean very much by it…or not as a human might understand such things.
“Look,” he said and pointed down at the riverside dock. Some figures walked along a narrow pier lit with the dancing light of a torch. One was a lordly man in fancy clothes. Behind him walked a man in a dark robe and hood…strange for the night was warm. Several guards walked with them. “Symon Steiner,” Errollyn murmured.
“Really?” Sasha peered more closely. The lordly man wore a broad-brimmed hat, lowlands style, with a plume in the band. The brim cast a shadow, obscuring the face. “Are you certain?”
“Of course. I can see the family resemblance.”
“Don't remind me,” Sasha muttered. Her own brother-in-law. Dear spirits. “Who's in the hood?”