Free Petrodor: A Trial of Blood and Steel, Book 2 by Joel Shepherd Page A

warlord Markield, young Kessligh had leapt at the chance.
    Fighting in Lenayin had been vicious, and casualties high, which had afforded a brilliant young officer opportunities for rapid advancement. Kessligh had demonstrated a rare genius unmatched in that conflict, and had risen right to the very top—Lenay Commander of Armies—and inflicted upon the Cherrovan a thrashing from which they had still not recovered. It was a post he had held for the following eighteen years, over which time he had become known by many as the second most powerful man in Lenayin. But then King Torvaal's heir, Krystoff, whom Kessligh had been training as uma, had been killed, and Kessligh had resigned his post, and taken Krystoff's grieving, tomboy sister into the wilds of Valhanan to live on a wild hillside and breed horses.
    Twelve years of training, and now they arrived at this. Kessligh had great status still, despite his thirty-year absence from Petrodor, and, as his uma, so did Sasha. She saw in his face now the accumulated strains and frustrations of a man who was not particularly happy to have been forced back into this old life once more. Kessligh had never particularly liked Petrodor, nor appreciated the petty squabbles of its residents. Sasha, for her part, was finding more to like about the place than she'd hoped to dare…but still it was not difficult to empathise with her uman. All this intrigue became exasperating.
    “Randel was rumoured to have had an affair with a servant girl,” Rhillian offered. “Surely someone's honour was offended, if true.”
    “Yes,” said Errollyn, “but they'd usually kill the servant girl, not the heir.” His finger traced a scar on the table's surface, absently. “Wasn't he to be betrothed to one of Halmady's girls? Maybe Halmady took the affair for an insult.”
    “More likely it was Family Maerler,” Aiden disagreed. “All kinds of things go on in the trade that even the Nasi-Keth don't know about. Maerler and Steiner are always killing each other over something.”
    “My coin's on Steiner,” Kessligh said grimly. “Murder is one thing. This was public, made to look like an accident. When Maerler and Steiner people kill each other, no one bothers to disguise the knife wound. They want each other to know it was payback. Payback is currency in Petrodor, and merchant families understand currency and trade all too well.”
    “You think they killed their own ally's heir?” Errollyn asked. He found such things intriguing.
    Rhillian's frown was more typical of serrin confronted with such tasteless human cruelties. “Why?”
    Kessligh shrugged. “As Aiden says, we only see a fraction of it. It could be anything. Outsiders might not guess it was murder, but I reckon Patachi Ragini will have no doubts. A warning to him, if you like, from Patachi Steiner.”
    “The stack rearranges itself,” said Rhillian, her emerald eyes thoughtful. “There is power in the offing. Torovan raises an army, but who will lead? Patachi Steiner no doubt fancies himself the general, but Patachi Maerler will disagree. The dukes are all in town, pledging the support of their men and coffers to one or the other, and each receptive to temptation. Perhaps Ragini flirted with the wrong maiden. Perhaps this was his leader's warning not to stray too far from the flock.”
    Sasha snorted. “If straying from the flock was enough for murder, we'd have nothing but corpses all across the upper incline. They're all doing it.”
    Aiden shrugged. “Some more than others.”
    “They're doing more than just raising an army,” said Kessligh. “The weapons trade now accounts for perhaps one in every ten gold coins the houses make. Almost all of it's going to the Bacosh. And there's talk of larger shipments on the seas even now. We're trying to find the time and place, but no luck so far.”
    “All weapons?” Sasha asked. “The Larosan armies have no want of weapons, surely?”
    “But Lenayin does,” Kessligh replied.