gratitude. “They are but a crazed few from a dying breed. Let them leave.”
Damon stared at his brother's cloaked back in disbelief. “I don't believe you just said that,” he muttered, so that none but Myklas could overhear.
Myklas frowned. “It's true, isn't it?”
“A lot of men are about to die needlessly,” Damon said quietly. He unclenched his fist from the armrest of the chair with difficulty, watching the last of the Taneryn contingent file out, with contemptuous glares at the watching Verenthanes on all sides. “Sasha was right, brother. Damn her for a pain in the neck, but she was right all along.”
Sasha performed taka-dans with a naked blade until the light had crawled across Sofy's bed and fell now upon her own. With that and other exercises had she occupied herself all the morning, locked into Sofy's chambers. She heard the door being unlatched and then Sofy's maid Anyse appeared, a meal tray in her hands. Anyse paused, startled, to see the concluding strokes of Sasha's taka-dan. Sasha sheathed the blade in one smooth motion and the maid smiled nervously, then hurried to place the tray upon Sofy's writing desk by the windows.
Turning back to Sasha, she made a hurried curtsy, apparently wishing permission to speak. Sasha nodded. Anyse's freckled face was earnest. “M'Lady,” she said in a low voice so that the guards beyond the door could not hear, “Princess Sofy sends her greetings.”
Sasha frowned. “Is she having fun with her Larosan friends?”
“She is concerned for you, M'Lady. She sends word that she is seeking to know where the young boy is being held.”
Anyse glanced furtively toward the doorway. “I was sent to give you a message. Lord Krayliss has caused a commotion at Rathynal. He accused the king of betraying the Udalyn, and all but issued a call to arms. He stormed out of the hall before he could be removed and has returned to his encampment upon the fields.”
Sasha took a deep breath and stared toward the windows. She was not particularly surprised. Events were set in motion. Opportunists would seek to capitalise. Now, it had truly begun. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I am glad to know.”
Anyse turned as if to go, hesitating even as she did. Sasha saw the indecision and gestured for the maid to speak. “M'Lady…what of the Udalyn?” Anyse whispered, with great apprehension.
Sasha frowned. “Would you follow Lord Krayliss?”
“No…no, M'Lady.” A vehement shake of the head. “Not by choice. But…the Udalyn, M'Lady…”
“I know,” Sasha said darkly. “Something shall be done, you can count on it. But Lord Krayliss is not the man to do it.”
“Aye,” Anyse replied, fear battling with relief and uncertainty in her eyes. “Aye, M'Lady.” Another pause before she left. “Please be safe,” she offered, and fled. Sasha took a deep breath. Surely Koenyg knew Sofy had Goeren-yai on her staff. Anyse amongst them. Surely he knew better than to try to persuade Sofy to have them replaced. And better still than to try and command it. Sofy was not an enemy a wise man would wish to make. But Sasha was equally sure that Koenyg knew who the Goeren-yai staff were and would have them watched. Any move she made now, after that visit, would surely be fraught with risk. Yet was there any choice?
She sat down to eat her meal, for her stomach was rumbling at the smell. Below through the windows, there were children running in the courtyard with squeals and cries as they played, leaping and rolling upon the grass. Rysha, she thought as she ate the soup and tore off a piece of bread. Daryd's last word, and last concern, as the soldiers had led him away. Rysha was at Krayliss's camp. She could not stay there—Krayliss's camp had just become the least safe location in Baen-Tar. Sasha had promised Daryd his sister would be cared for. And, besides, she needed to talk to Krayliss before any new calamity occurred.
Completing her meal, she stripped her bed of its sheets and began knotting them together. The problem with Baen-Tar Verenthanes, she thought as she worked, was that they were all so unimaginative. A man or woman born into such a world had duties to perform, and formalities to follow. They would think and reason as they did.
And so, even now that she was a trained Nasi-Keth warrior with a sword at her back, the good Verenthanes of Baen-Tar would assume that any princess ordered by her father to remain in chambers would stay there.