were adorned with rings. “This is the stupidest excuse to slaughter an entire village I've yet heard! If there's fighting, I'm on their side!”
He nudged heels to his horse and rode through the Baerlyn lines to raucous cheers, yells and raised blades.
“Anadrys Denaryn!” yelled a noble at Kumaryn's side, levelling a blade at him. “You are a traitor to your lord!”
But more Goeren-yai city men were pushing down the column and crossing into the Baerlyn lines, some waving cheerfully to their new friends as they came. Jeers and catcalls accompanied the cheering as Kumaryn, his noble friends and officers fumed.
“I said I'd come to help in the fight!” the man named Anadrys yelled back at Kumaryn across the gap. “I didn't say on which side!”
“Come on, Wensyl!” the man who had shouted out to him before was yelling above the noise. “The man's an ass! You don't want to fight for him. Come over this side!”
“He's Great Lord of Valhanan!” Wensyl protested, almost apologetically.
“So what? Does he own your honour, or do you!”
Wensyl grimaced, rode across to the man in question and dismounted. Kumaryn's comrades yelled at him to come back, but Wensyl was now engaged in a heated debate with his Baerlyn friend and several others. A pair of Baerlyn men approached Kumaryn, whose companions raised weapons in threat, but a Black Wolves sergeant intervened, and that began a new argument. More men crossed the line, weapons gesticulating dangerously, and suddenly the grim face-off had degenerated into a milling, chaotic debate between sometime friends, trading partners and tournament contestants, as men found others they knew on both sides.
Sasha found herself grinning. It was approaching a farce. She knew what the lowlanders would say if they could see this. “Lenay rabble.” Ill-disciplined, chaotic and leaderless. Uncivilised. Barbarian. All were quite possibly true. And Sasha had rarely felt any more proud of the fact than today.
Some dried horse manure sailed dangerously close to Kumaryn's head, but it was impossible to tell who'd thrown it. Sasha saw Geldon climb onto an adjoining fence and call to someone in the column he recognised, followed by handshakes and greetings—Geldon supplied bread to Cryliss and bought grain from them, Sasha guessed this was one of his partners. Anadrys and the other Goeren-yai who'd come over were calling to Verenthane friends still in the column, some of them in the Black Wolves.
The men of the Black Wolves now appeared confused, looking to their lord for direction. Their disquiet was obvious—such companies had been used by lord or king to hit rebellious villages before, but this was different. No Lenay man liked to be seen as another's vassal. No Lenay warrior was obliged to follow a dishonourable command, whatever their oaths. Some more manure actually hit one of Kumaryn's nobles. Kumaryn signalled furiously for a withdrawal and the long column began a slow reverse, leaving many of their number behind to continue the debate.
“So much for that,” Sasha said cheerfully to Kessligh, watching them leave. Kumaryn now seemed in furious argument with the Black Wolves captain. If the Wolves refused to fight, that was the end of it.
“Nothing to be pleased about,” Kessligh said grimly. “The nobility becomes ambitious. They're flexing their muscles, demonstrating their power to the king.”
“And failing,” Sasha retorted, steadying Peg's impatient head toss. “There's not enough of them in Valhanan, just the big towns and Cryliss. Rural folk outnumber them by a lot, their power is less than they think.”
Jaegar and Teriyan came back to Sasha and Kessligh, who dismounted to meet them. A councilman from Yule joined them—Tarynt, a small, older man with a bushy beard that tried desperately to make him look larger, and failed.
“Thank you for that,” Sasha said, knowing as she spoke that it was unnecessary. “I'm grateful.”
“Would have done it even if you were guilty,” Jaegar said with a shrug, swiping at a fly. “He's got no right, and he knows it. We let him do this, it's a whole slippery slope from there. He'll not get a warrior nor a horse nor a mangy chicken from us.”
“Just when did the lords of Valhanan start fighting the Tyree nobility's wars?” Tarynt asked with concern.
Jaegar took a swig of his small water skin and spat. “Kumaryn overreached this time. He was never very bright. Hopefully he'll get the message now.”
“He wasn't sending a message to the villages,” Kessligh said grimly. “He was sending a message to the king. They all were. They've had a taste of power now and