Free Haven: A Trial of Blood and Steel Book Four by Joel Shepherd

slow.”
    Sasha picked up the boy, and carried him away from the wagons. He was not going to watch this, nor the burial of his friends.
    “Will you tell me your name?” she tried again as she walked.
    “Tomli,” came a faint murmur against her ear.
    “Well, Tomli,” she said, still in Saalsi, “I have an idea. Likely it will get all of us killed, and destroy the Army of Lenayin. But it's the best idea I have, because it is the only thing I'm still certain is right.”
    The more she thought about it, the more certain she became. She climbed the slope off the road, to gain a view of the cliffs, and wait for her party to ride once more.

 
    B urying even little bodies took time, when one took proper care. By the time the Isfayen returned to the column, dusk was falling, and the Army of Lenayin had halted to prepare its nighttime defences, and distribute the day's foraged food.
    Sasha carried Tomli before her on the saddle, and cared not how many men stared at the pair of them in passing. She left her horse at the stable of the farmhouse commandeered for the night's lordly retreat, and took Tomli inside to the washroom. There she booted out several lords, and set about seeing Tomli washed, well aware of the building commotion outside the washroom door. She emerged only once to ask if anyone had clean children's clothes, and a search of the farmhouse did bring a clean pair of breeches and a shirt down to the washroom door. They were a little too big, but Sasha rolled up the pants, made cuffs of the sleeves, and wondered if some skill in much-despised needlework might not be useful after all.
    Then she emerged, ushering Tomli before her, into a main room full of Lenay captains, lords, two princes, and one king. Lamps lit the wooden floors and smooth stone walls, and food lay arrayed upon a long table. The men were all in sombre conversation, knowing what lay within the washroom, and awaiting its emergence.
    Koenyg now rose from an armchair, and conversation trailed away to silence.
    “Markan told me,” said Koenyg. Markan stood nearby. “How is the boy?”
    “Traumatised,” said Sasha. “His name is Tomli. He is five, and he speaks Rhodaani and some Saalsi. He was born to a single mother who gave him to an orphanage. Saalshen keeps them well funded, Tomli seemed happy enough there.”
    The horror of it nearly stole her sanity once more. She swallowed hard.
    “A Verenthane orphanage?” asked the Great Lord of Rayen, curiously.
    “I think,” said Sasha, nodding. “He said he was cared for by priests. He called them all Papa.”
    “Those men you found did a grave crime,” Koenyg said grimly, “and their punishment was just. But from now on, all Lenays shall stay within the column. We cannot be enforcing our laws onto every criminal act. Enmities between the Free and the Saalshen Bacosh are two centuries old, and there will be many crimes. It cannot be our place to intervene, and strain the allegiance further.”
    “The Black Order of Larosa placed a bounty upon the heads of all serrin and half-breed children,” Sasha said quietly. “Word passes across the land. What we saw was not a crime. It was policy.”
    Koenyg's stare darkened. “Sister, I will not have you sow dissension against our Verenthane allies….”
    “I state only fact,” said Sasha. “Ask Markan to deny it.” No one looked at Markan. To question the Great Lord of Isfayen's honesty was not wise. “And brother, I cannot be party to any army that supports such acts. These are our allies, and they murder children by the wagonload. Little girls and little boys like Tomli.” Her hand was firm on Tomli's shoulder. Even in the face of this fearsome gathering of strangers, Tomli did not flinch or shake. He had seen far worse than this. “I do not appeal to your sympathy. I appeal to your honour. There is honour in victory against warriors in battle. To murder small children for gold…”
    She gazed at each of them in turn. Men met her eyes for a