Sasha - By Joel Shepherd Page 0,21

so I enjoyed the company of the serrin more than humans. Serrin never judge. Through them I learned to see the world as it is, and myself as I am, rather than what I might want or expect them both to be. Which is how I recognised your talents, while other men would not. I realised I was wrong about human women. Many men cannot admit this about themselves.

“Always be aware that you may be wrong, Sasha—about anything and everything. I rose to Commander of Armies during the Great War simply because I learned from my mistakes, and the mistakes of others, and when something did not work, I stopped doing it and did something else. Many commanders did not, due to pride or stubbornness, and killed not only themselves, but many good men as well. The unquestioned belief in one's own supremacy and righteousness is the surest road to ruin yet devised by man. Avoid it at all costs.”

Sasha listened sombrely, chewing the last of her lunch as the river bubbled about their rock. Kessligh did not lecture often, yet she was not surprised that he chose to do so now. A Hadryn–Taneryn conflict was surely the most serious calamity she had yet ridden into. An uman's role was to teach, and to prepare his uma for trials to come.

“Why have the Nasi-Keth not spread more through Lenayin?” Sasha asked suddenly. “I mean…you led Lenayin to victory over Chieftain Markield, you risked your life and became a Lenay legend—all because you volunteered to come from Petrodor. The popularity of the Nasi-Keth and the serrin was surely never so high in Lenayin as then. And yet there are so few other Nasi-Keth here.”

Kessligh nodded slowly, as if faintly surprised at the question. “Your father tried,” he said. “He believes in providence, in signs from the gods. When Markield was beaten, your father saw that the gods favoured the Nasi-Keth, and thus surely they favoured the teachings of Saalshen. That was a time when the king was least persuaded by the northern fanatics, since the north had failed to defeat the invasion without help as they'd insisted they would, and had protested my ascension to commander at every turn. Trade with Saalshen improved dramatically, and many senior serrin were invited to visit the capital. And, of course, he declared that Krystoff would be my uma, binding the kingdom and the Nasi-Keth inextricably together.

“But the response of the Verenthanes was not good, especially in the north. And precious few Nasi-Keth from Petrodor have felt inspired to follow me to the highlands.” He shrugged. “Perhaps it would have been different had Krystoff lived. Then Lenayin would have had a king both Verenthane and Nasi-Keth, as are so many in Petrodor.”

“And we have the Hadryn to thank that it didn't happen,” Sasha muttered.

Kessligh fixed her with a hard stare. “Sasha. What happened to Krystoff is old history. It hurt me as much as it hurt you. But we're riding into this mess now on the king's business, and the king must be impartial. If you feel that will be a problem for you, best that you tell me now.”

“They killed him,” Sasha said darkly. “Not by their own hands, but nearly.”

“I know,” said Kessligh. “It changes nothing.”

“And who are you to be accusing me of partisan loyalties?” Sasha retorted. “Saalshen is losing credit fast with Father, and doubtless the Nasi-Keth with them. And now you come on this ride claiming to act in Father's interests?”

“I have always been your father's servant,” Kessligh said flatly. “I've fought in his service since I rode to Lenayin thirty years ago.”

“And should Father act against the Nasi-Keth?” Sasha persisted. “What then?”

“Then,” said Kessligh, “I shall cross that bridge when I come to it.”

CAMPFIRES LIT SMALL CIRCLES OF LIGHT in the forest, a leaping dance of tree trunks and long, flickering shadows. Men gathered about their fires and cooked, while others tended to horses, or mended worn gear. There was cloud overhead, the wind was gentle from the south, and Sasha knew it would not grow so cold tonight. But she missed the stars, her one great consolation for nights upon the road.

“There is dispute over Lord Krayliss's ancestry,” Damon said as the regal party ate. Sasha wolfed her meal with her usual appetite—roasted meat on skewers, and a vegetable raal Kessligh had whipped up. Damon, however, seemed to pick at his food. “I've heard it claimed that he's not actually Udalyn at all.”

To Sasha's surprise, he looked directly

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