Tracato: A Trial of Blood and Steel Book Three Read Free Page A

was a lieutenant of the Rhodaani Steel, and two dharmi —footsoldiers of the Steel. Sasha had sparred against all three, and had been impressed. They used shorter swords than the Lenay warriors she was accustomed to, and she’d been expecting them to show less competence when fighting alone. Instead she’d found them a comfortable match to most Lenay warriors she’d known, untroubled by the shifting deck beneath their feet, and probably more practised at contesting her own style, too.
    Sasha had taken the opportunity to speak with all three men at length, and had learned a great deal. The Steel were serrin metalworking, weapons and armour, combined with serrin philosophies of motion and tactics, and the human knack for logistics, pragmatism and ruthlessness. One of the dharmi was half serrin by parentage, a common enough thing anywhere in the Saalshen Bacosh.
    The lieutenant’s name was Geran, and he had travelled to Petrodor to speak with the Nasi-Keth, and assess lessons from the great battles that hadwracked the city. The Steel, Sasha learned, were like that—always learning, always trying new things. Councilman Dhael had travelled on similar business, and to meet with the new king of Torovan’s representatives (those who would deign to see a councilman from a nation Torovan was busily preparing to make war against). Being a merchant as well, he was also conducting trade. Nothing stopped the trade, it seemed. Not even war.
    In addition to Dhael’s three travelling retainers, there were five other passengers aboard, all Rhodaani. And, of course, there was Sasha’s sister Alythia.
    Alythia was now busily charming Councilman Dhael at one end of the passengers’ table. She laughed and smiled between mouthfuls, dabbing daintily at the corner of her lips with a napkin, in such a way as to draw attention to their fullness. She wore a red gown of flowing folds that fanned from the waist, with white, lacy trim. It enfolded her in a tight corset about the torso—a current fashion of the Bacosh. Alythia’s assets, Sasha noted drily, were just about spilling out, and the men at the table were staring. Dhael was married with four children, yet Alythia’s eyes, and breasts, seemed positively fixated on the man. Sasha knew only too well what that meant.
    Sasha finished her meal, and took a pear and her water flask up steep, narrow stairs to the deck. She held onto a rail where she thought she couldn’t possibly get in the way, and ate the pear, listening to the rushing, roaring heave of the sea. The air smelled an intoxication of salt and freshness, as though alive. Cold, perhaps, but her sheepskin jacket was thick, and she had layers beneath…and she was Lenay, after all, and well used to cold.
    After a while on deck, she tossed the pear stem overboard and returned below. The galley table was clear, and she followed the narrow corridor up to the forequarters and the only half-decent guest lodging available on ship, up near the bow. The door was closed, and she recalled her manners at least long enough to knock before entering.
    She found Alythia struggling with her corset. Her sister looked annoyed that she’d entered before being invited, but also a little relieved. “Oh, Sasha. Could you help me with this? I can’t reach the laces properly.”
    “I can see,” said Sasha, amused. She shut the door, and stepped behind her sister. Alythia was taller, and her bundled hair tonight added to the effect. To say nothing of her boots, which Sasha saw only now were red leather, high with big heels. “Dear Lords, where did you get those boots?”
    “These? Oh, there’s so much for sale along the docks if you look, Sasha. You never looked. You lived in Petrodor for six months and you missed everything.”
    “Everything meaning clothes, jewellery and perfumes,” said Sasha drily. “You lived there for six months and you never once went out fishing.”
    “I leave fishing to men and tomboys,” said Alythia,