There was blood in his mouth and his eyes were sightless. Jaryd stood above him, his sword bloody, breath coming in great gasps. The kneeling guardsman stared up in disbelief.
“What did you do?” he said in horror, a hand creeping to the pommel of his sword.
“No,” said another, stepping forward. “I saw it. Reynan would have struck M'Lady Sashandra from behind. He meant to kill her in the confusion.”
Sasha stared at Jaryd. Reynan Pelyn had been brother to Lord Tymeth Pelyn, from one of the most powerful noble families of Tyree.
“I'd thought his manner odd last night and this morning,” Jaryd said hoarsely, as Kessligh and Damon pushed in to see. His eyes met Sasha's. “I asked him what troubled him and he muttered something about “that brat” ruining everything. He never liked you, M'Lady, I thought he was just…just making talk. I was wary, but I never thought he'd…”
“Treachery,” said a guardsman—a Verenthane. “Unbefitting of a Tyree man or a Verenthane. He got what he deserved.”
“Even that horsefly Farys has more honour,” his Goeren-yai comrade agreed. “At least he gave his challenge to her face, not her back.”
“Coward,” agreed a third.
They withdrew from the circle, leaving their former lieutenant alone on the ground, gazing sightlessly at the grey morning sky. Sasha felt lightheaded and shorter, somehow, her posture no longer quite so perfect, all colours and sounds no longer so sharp.
“You saved my life,” she said to Jaryd, determinedly focused on keeping her balance as they walked. She'd seen an honour duel once before where the victor's legs had folded beneath him in the midst of his victory celebration. Now, she knew why.
“I would have done so even were you my enemy,” Jaryd muttered. His normally confident, carefree expression was darkened with fury. “Some things cannot be tolerated, even from family allies.”
“Even so,” Sasha added, determined to give further thanks, but Jaryd cut her off.
“Damn fool, I should have known!” he snarled. “They were plotting, damn them. Now there'll be Loth's ransom to pay.”
The chanting from the Halleryn walls continued, accompanied now by multiple drums, and the piercing shrill of reed pipes. Sasha pushed free of her surrounding company and walked across the open grass before the walls. The cheer erupted louder to a full-fledged roar. She could see a crowd of men atop the walls, fists and swords held aloft. The Goeren-yai. Saluting her as passionately as they'd ever saluted anyone. The tears in her eyes spilled and ran down her cheeks.
She placed the sword down and held both arms aloft, palms outward, then lowered them slowly, requesting silence. Slowly, the volume declined. And then, finally, the morning still returned. An eerie, unreal hush, after the din that had been. Sasha pressed both palms together before her forehead and bowed in thanks and respect. Such triumphalism was not what the situation needed; it had cost far too much already.
A horn sounded by Halleryn's main gate, announcing an imminent departure. The royal party waited and the Hadryn moved their bodies to the stream, where someone had brought a raft to save them the humiliation of the long walk back. Upon the far bank, Hadryn soldiers milled in shock and anger. Even at a glance, Sasha could see much gesticulation, rude hand gestures and raised voices. She hoped that the Falcon Guard, back at their camp, were prepared for any eventuality.
Then, from the main gate, a grand, chestnut warhorse clattered onto the road and turned along the wall toward them. Two more riders flanked their leader, Taneryn banners flying, and Sasha recognised Lord Krayliss astride the leading horse, riding square-shouldered and proud as his men watched on from their wall-top positions.
The riders left the road and approached across the grass, halting before the royal party. Krayliss swung his heavy weight from the saddle, rearranging his cloak about the enormous sword at his hip. His dark eyes peered from beneath thick black brows, his expression unreadable behind the profuse black beard. He inclined his head to Damon and then again, more deeply, to Kessligh at Damon's right hand. He had watched proceedings from the wall, it was very clear. Sasha was only a little surprised when the gaze then swung and fixed upon her.
Lord Krayliss strode toward her, a hand upon the massive hilt of his sword, and knelt to one knee, his head bowed. Sasha blinked. That was unexpected. It brought her no joy, and even less when Krayliss lifted his gaze and beheld her from that position. There was