Read Haven: A Trial of Blood and Steel Book Four for Free Online Page B

save for a guard at the door…but sound echoed. “The serrin made many crafts for small temples like this. To build goodwill amongst the people.” Sofy might have expected a man of Elot's leanings to be bitter at the practice. But Elot seemed subdued.
    “Lord Elot, is something the matter?”
    “The star is still here,” said Elot, pointing to the simple, eight-pointed wooden shape hung upon the wall behind the altar, below the coloured window. “Townsfolk would not willingly leave it behind. Perhaps they left in a hurry.”
    Sofy frowned, and walked to the altar. A good Verenthane always, she took a knee and made the holy sign. Rising, she examined the star. It was simple wood, polished to a varnished gleam, all edges and joins worn away with careful attention. No wider than a man's shoulders, it would not be difficult to carry. Her attention settled on a discoloured mark, against the wall. An oil stain? She rubbed at it. It came away and soiled her finger. She sniffed it. It smelled nothing remarkable. Yet suddenly the cosy little temple felt cold, as though someone had thrown the doors open to a winter's wind.
    She walked quickly to the doors, and stopped upon the steps. There in the courtyard before her, amidst a retinue of lords and knights, stood the Regent Balthaar Arrosh. He smiled at her, his regal cloak slung dashingly over one shoulder. Tall, and quite handsome, hair and moustache slightly curled.
    He spread his hands to her. “Well, my dearest?” he asked. “Are you quite satisfied?”
    Sofy forced a bright smile. “Quite satisfied, my husband.” She trotted down the steps, curtseyed, and came to kiss him chastely on the cheek. The nobility in the courtyard all smiled at that. Balthaar's relatives, some of them. Others, his allies, lords of the powerful provinces of the “Free Bacosh,” men who commanded great armies in their own right. All together, on this grand crusade. And her, the Lenay princess whose marriage secured the allegiance of Lenayin, without which current victories would never have been possible, however little those assembled here would like it admitted.
    “We are not all barbarians in these lands,” Balthaar assured her, to the further amusement of the courtyard. In all the lowlands, of course, Lenayin had been known for centuries as the land of barbarians…and perhaps not so unfairly. “We wish to return these lands to their rightful state of rulership, to the natural order of men, not to see them turned to ash.”
    “I understand, my husband,” Sofy said with a further curtsey, in apology. “I never did doubt you. I merely wondered at the temper of some of the men. Losses were great in the Battle of Sonnai Plain, I had feared some would seek revenge….”
    “And surely some shall,” said Balthaar, “as such things occur in all wars. But trust me that I shall endeavour to keep such happenings to a minimum, and punish those who go against my order. These lands are ours now, and to destroy them is to cut off our own limbs.”
    “I understand,” said Sofy. She did not entirely meet his gaze. Balthaar took her by the arms, and for one nervous moment, Sofy feared he had guessed her thoughts.
    “Dearest,” he said instead, “I come because I have a favour to ask.” Sofy met his gaze now, surprised. “I would ask you to ride to Tracato. I cannot—I must ride with the army to pursue the Steel into Enora, where they must be defeated for once and all. But Tracato's nobility have risen against the serrin devils. Much power resides there, and wealth, and a link to our Elissian allies. My interests are there, even as I cannot be.
    “But I would send a trusted emissary, with wit and guile to match any man, and a stout heart too, to see my interests represented. Would you do this for me?”
    Tracato? Sasha had just ridden from Tracato, and told of horrors there. And, more reluctantly, of wonders, of learning and civilisation greater than anything in all the lands of Rhodia.