word about you and men liked what they heard. They always have, even in Baerlyn folks think you can walk on clouds…”
“Don't be ridiculous!” Sasha said incredulously. Thinking of all the ribbings she'd received at the hands of Baerlyn men and women alike, the good-humoured slander, the teasing about her hair and how she showered far more affection on horses than young men, and how all those same young men were too frightened to flirt with her…
“I'm not being ridiculous!” Andreyis protested. “We don't do hero worship real well, Sasha…Goeren-yai men are proud, they don't bow at the feet of others easily. I'm your friend, Sasha. I've wrestled you down the hillside and rubbed dirt in your hair. But I'm not riding here tonight just because you're my friend. I'm riding here because I'm Goeren-yai and the Goeren-yai need a leader. They've chosen that leader to be you. And I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather follow.”
Sasha gazed at him, a cold gust of wind threatening to remove the hood from her head. Tears prickled her eyes, and she reached and grasped Andreyis's hand with her own. “I don't know if I deserve that trust, Andrey,” she said quietly. “I'm a spoilt, self-centred brat.”
Andreyis grinned. “Aye, you are.” Sasha laughed. Silly of her to have expected any other reply. “But you care for people. And you don't think yourself better than others, despite your talents. Lord Krayliss did neither. Which is why they follow you, and not him.”
AT DAWN THEY CAME TO THE VARYSH RIVER, which marked the boundary between Baen-Tar and Valhanan. Water levels were low, typical of late summer, and Sasha rode to the far bank with barely a splash to wet her boots. Soldiers dismounted along both banks to lead their horses over the rocks and gravel of the exposed riverbed to drink.
Sasha was relieved to find that men had rations, for she had none. Her vanguard shared some bread and fruit with her as she stood and flexed her legs, watching Peg graze amidst the thick bushes that overgrew the riverbank. Birds chorused against the pale overcast sky, as hooves clattered on rock and men conversed in various tongues, weapons and armour clinking as they sat and ate, or briefly washed.
Finishing her breakfast, Sasha walked to a better vantage on the water's edge. So many men and horses. They lined the river as far as she could see to the upstream and downstream bends. Line company men, Lenayin's best equipped and most fearsome warriors. Not necessarily the best trained, nor even the highest standard, given the lifelong training that even simple farmers received. But these were the men she needed, more than common villagers. These men had horses.
Still, she reflected, she would have to get someone to count heads, just for certainty, and see if the number came anywhere near the two thousand of her earlier estimation. Lieutenant Alyn and the vanguard had followed her to the water's edge, she saw. They made a rough, informal line, separating her from the surrounding men and horses. It made her uncomfortable, as did many of the looks that came her way from the surrounding, mostly Goeren-yai soldiers. Some gazed in amazement, others in simple curiosity. Yet others were unreadable. Men of Lenayin were not easily impressed, she knew. And Kessligh had told her often that respect, in Lenayin, was no one's birthright. She took some comfort in Andreyis's words the previous night and yet she remained unconvinced. Many of these men needed no convincing of the rightness of their cause, but it would take plenty more than a pretty speech to convince many of them of her, no matter who her uman.
Some men performed taka-dans—as all soldiers would try to do them at least once a day, under any circumstances. Sasha settled for her stretching regimen—taka-dans could wait for a little more privacy. A soldier in Falcon Guard uniform approached, hair braided and ears ringed. He gained permission from Lieutenant Alyn, then squatted before Sasha, who sat upon a flattish rock with legs splayed, grasping one boot with both hands.
“Another thirty-five have joined from neighbouring villages, M'Lady,” he told her. “Others are spreading the word, there is talk of hundreds more arriving shortly. It would be many more, but for the shortage of horses. Some are saying they will walk to the valley.”
“And arrive ten days late,” Sasha replied. “If they can find us, so can our enemies. It calls for watchful scouts, we don't want to mistake