trickled from a cut on her temple. Serrin blood was red, Sasha saw, just like a human's. Some Verenthanes rumoured otherwise. Sasha would much rather have remained ignorant of that truth.
Aisha gazed up at her. She looked too young, and too pretty, for such a scene. Like a little girl. Sasha's breath caught in her throat. “Her mother had travelled to Lenayin many times,” the serrin girl said softly, cradling her friend's body. “She fought in the Great War, with Kessligh.”
“Kessligh told me that many serrin did,” Sasha said quietly.
“Not as many as should have,” said Aisha, gazing down at Tassi's lifeless face. “Even then, the serrinim were withdrawing inwards. Tassi thought it a terrible thing. She'd been to Lenayin twice. She loved this place. She did not understand why some amongst us thought the Goeren-yai less important. She feared the serrinim were becoming selfish. Tassi was never selfish.”
“I can see,” Sasha agreed, tears blurring her eyes.
“The serrinim are changing,” Terel said quietly, kneeling at Aisha's side, and placing a hand on her shoulder. “Those of us who still care pick the hardest fights, and our numbers decrease. Now, we are fewer still.”
At Sasha's side, Sofy's gaze was pale and sober. Sasha reached and grasped her sister's hand.
Jaryd awoke. He hurt. He hurt very badly. That was good. It meant he was still alive. Snapped stalks of wheat pressed against his cheek. It seemed strange that he should feel that discomfort above all the other pain. He could smell horses. And leather. And sweat. And blood. That latter smell stuck in the memory with the force of an axe thrown into a tree. Quivering, it triggered other memories. Tarryn. Father.
Galyndry. Galyndry? He hadn't thought much about his sisters. Galyndry was to be married anyhow. She'd be fine. Family Nyvar meant naught to her once she married. Delya was already married. No big thing. Wyndal, though…Wyndal was fifteen. He was still in Tyree, not everyone could go to Rathynal. Wyndal had always been quiet, he wouldn't make a fuss when he found out. Who would own their land now? And who would adopt Wyndal? Maybe Family Shaty would adopt him, at least then he could be with Delya.
His mind was wandering. That wasn't good. Everyone always said his mind wandered too much. Focus, Jaryd. You'll never make a great lord of Tyree if you don't learn to concentrate. Fool. Gods, he was a fool. He'd never thought a family so fragile. It had always been such a grand thing, full of uncles and aunts, cousins…In truth, it had never been more than him, father, and his siblings. Everyone else had another allegiance. Family? What did family matter to those people? As much as honour, perhaps. Or loyalty.
He tried to move his left arm. The pain of it nearly made him pass out. He moved his right instead and rolled heavily onto his back. His ribs hurt. Surely he'd broken some. He knew the feeling well enough. He could hear horses, distant shouts and trumpets. He tried opening his eyes. That was an anticlimax. There was no rush of blinding light, for the sky above was darkening. Soon it would be black. Best that he discovered where he was, and who had won, before all light disappeared entirely.
He levered himself upright. That hurt like hell. He was reminded of countless times he'd fallen from his horse playing lagand and awoken to find people looking down on him. Only now, he seemed to be alone.
Gasping, he got his good arm down for balance and sat up. Still he could see nothing…except that there was a dead horse lying beside him, partly obscured by the grain. Enough grain still stood to block all other view. The horse, at least, was not his. That was something.
He recalled charging into the Hadryn lines. He'd had no hope of steering, nor of wielding a shield. Nor of using his left hand as a pivot on the saddlehorn for leverage to duck, dodge and lean. His only defence had been attack. He'd struck one sword that would have killed him had he not…and then…he winced, trying to recall. His head hurt, along with everything else. His helm had fallen off. He could not see it in the grain about him. A horse galloped nearby and he had no idea if it belonged to friend or foe.
A pain stabbed at his right side, worse than the others. Jaryd put his hand there and found a tear in the heavy