Sashandra brought you, you are less than a landless peasant.”
Sasha hoped Captain Akryd would restrain Jaryd before he tried anything stupid. But she made certain that her chair remained a suitable distance from the table, her feet braced upon the floor, rehearsing in her mind a fast grab for her blade.
“I am Commander of the Falcon Guard,” Jaryd replied. There was no apparent tension in his voice, which only made it all the more ominous.
“And I just told you that you are not,” Arastyn replied.
“The men of the Falcon Guard tell me I am,” said Jaryd. “There are men of the Tyree White Talons who say so as well, and will tell any others of the commonfolk in Tyree who care to listen. How long will the noble families of Tyree survive should both their vaunted companies and most of the commonfolk, Verenthane and Goeren-yai, decide that you have outlived your usefulness?”
“Your Highness,” Lord Rydysh broke in angrily, in heavily accented Lenay, “this is madness! You bargain with traitors! Look, this whelp threatens insurrection even now!”
“Any enemy of the Tyree nobility is an enemy of the Valhanan nobility too,” Lord Kumaryn added, ominously, looking hard at Jaryd. “Should our noble friends in Tyree be threatened, all of Valhanan shall ride to their aid.”
“All of Valhanan wouldn't ride to your funeral, Kumaryn,” Jaryd retorted. “You don't speak for all of Valhanan any more than I speak for all of Saalshen.”
“Silence!” Torvaal shouted. From either side of the table, the lords glared at Jaryd and Akryd. Behind them, Damon took another sip from his cup, apparently disgusted. “I shall not have arrogant fools destroy these talks before they have even begun.”
“Talks!” Lord Rydysh snorted. “She's your daughter! Bring her to heel like a true Verenthane lord, show her her place with the back of your hand!”
“You watch your mouth with the king!” Koenyg snarled, turning on the northern great lord.
“Bah!” Lord Rydysh waved a dismissive hand. “Southerners have no balls. Your Highness, I tell you again—let me raise my forces and we'll ride through these traitors like a scythe through wheat!”
“She has seven thousand to command,” Lord Parabys of Neysh came to his king's defence. “Don't be a damn fool, man.”
“Seven thousand and the Udalyn,” Sasha told them. “They've barely any cavalry, but taken all together it's a good ten thousand warriors. One move against me and all Hadryn's remaining force shall be destroyed between us. We'll give them as much mercy as they gave the Udalyn. That'll be most of Hadryn's standing soldiery gone. And almost all of their lords, I believe.”
“You unutterable fool!” exclaimed Lord Kumaryn, horrified. “You are not merely a traitor, but an enemy of Lenayin! The Hadryn are the shield of the north! You would destroy the very protection that saves Lenayin from Cherrovan domination!”
“I'm not playing dice for a few coppers here!” Sasha retorted, allowing her voice to rise in volume. “I know exactly what I'm up against.” With a hard stare at Lord Rydysh. “You have all lost the Goeren-yai. Not all of them, but an awful lot. That's neither my fault, nor my doing—I was recruited, plucked from my dungeon without any foreknowledge of what had been planned. This uprising was their choice, not mine.
“You've made a mess, my Lords. You've ignored the wishes of the very people whose welfare is supposed to be utmost in your hearts, and now you pay the price. They will not just lie down and let you ride over the top of them. If you fight them, they will fight back, and you know by now that there's an awful lot of them. It's your choice, my Lords. I'm perfectly happy for it all to stop right here. But the terms must be favourable. Unfavourable terms have already roused them to fight once. Assuredly they could do so again.”
“No terms!” snarled Lord Rydysh, utterly unimpressed. “No terms with pagan traitors! Not on northern soil! We would rather die!”
“Perhaps that's just as well,” Sasha said coldly. “We've already killed two of the three northern great lords this ride. Why don't we make it a clean sweep?”
Lord Rydysh glared at her, his narrow, dark eyes blazing fury. No one had realised that Great Lord Cyan of Banneryd had been amongst the defenders of Ymoth. He'd partaken in the cavalry defence and died within a few strides of Captain Tyrun before the Ymoth walls. Word had reached Sasha just ahead of King Torvaal's arrival, when someone from the Ymoth burial detail