I can only admire such talent, however unexpected. But I should warn you, M'Lady…I know others who feel differently.”
“I know…” Sasha began, but Jaryd had not finished.
“Noble men,” he said, “my relations amongst them. They have long resented Kessligh's influence with the king. And they speak ill of serrin and Nasi-Keth alike.”
“Kessligh has little enough influence with the king these days,” said Sasha. “And noble Verenthanes have always resented or disliked me for one reason or another. But thank you for the warning. Is there some particular reason I should be worried?”
Jaryd's silence did not help her nerves. Events were in motion, and clearly the lords saw an impending war as an opportunity for self-advancement. War against the serrin would sever all the king's remaining ties with Kessligh and the Nasi-Keth. If it was a chance to get rid of him, then it was surely a chance to get rid of her. She recalled Kessligh's grim warning at the Steltsyn Star, and suffered a shiver that had nothing to do with the chill night air.
“A part of me looks forward to this war,” Jaryd said. “The holy war to reclaim the Saalshen Bacosh from the serrin. You would feel differently, I suppose?”
“Saalshen took that land because they were attacked,” Sasha replied. “They never started the conflict, they only finished it. The Saalshen Bacosh is formidable because it is defended by armies of humans and serrin. Most humans seem happy there, and they fight ferociously to defend their lands from the so-called liberators. If Lenayin went, we'd be just another bloody invader. Is that what you want?”
“Those lands are holy,” Jaryd countered, though he sounded less than certain. “I am Verenthane, and the places where the faith was born are occupied by those who do not belong. Any young man wishing for adventure would welcome the chance to ride on such a crusade. And many Goeren-yai I've spoken to said they would welcome a great war, Lenayin has always been a land of warriors, but the Liberation brought peace. Too much peace for many, I think.”
“Serrin did not travel as much to western provinces like Isfayen,” said Sasha. “Goeren-yai to the west may have no trouble fighting serrin, but the story is different here.” She paused. “But you said only a part of you. What of the other part?”
Jaryd sighed. “I've never been interested in the things that my father and uncles love. Wealth and power, more lands, more taxes. They complain endlessly that the nobility has little true power and that the king saves all the authority for himself, and they expect me to be equally outraged…”
He shook his head, gazing into the dark. “And now my father is dying. He sent me to the Falcon Guards when he found out. He said I might learn something. I have the Great Lordship of Tyree waiting for me and…and I can't find it within myself to care.”
Sasha stared at him in astonishment. She hadn't suspected that at all. “You and your father aren't on good terms?” she guessed.
“Never,” Jaryd said darkly. “I try to feel sad for him, truly I do. But it's difficult.” From somewhere distant, there came the mournful howl of a wolf. Another answered. Some people disliked the sound. Sasha had always loved it. Such a cold and desolate beauty.
“I know the feeling,” Sasha said quietly.
Jaryd glanced at her. “The king seems…distant. Though it is said he became far more so, after Prince Krystoff died. He loved Prince Krystoff dearly, as did you.”
“He loved his heir,” Sasha muttered. “All kings must love their heir, the same way a priest must love his robe, or a princess must love her father. It's an obligation, nothing more.”
“He retreated into temple after Prince Krystoff's funeral and rarely comes out to this day,” Jaryd objected. “The first place my father would visit if I died would be the stable, to reclaim my horse.”
“My father desires the faith of the gods above all else,” said Sasha. “It is said he loved my mother, but I don't know how anyone could prove it. He's a humourless, uncaring statue of a man, and for the life of me I couldn't describe to you his smile, for I've never seen it, before Krystoff died or after. He prays for Krystoff because he thought the gods had slapped him in the face by taking Krystoff from him. That upset him; Krystoff himself he barely knew.”
“Do you see him often?” Jaryd asked. He sounded a little surprised…but only