The Widow's House
Page 43
“I serve… Severed Throne.”
“Course you do, course you do. Thing is, I don’t. My plan, just between us, was never to serve anyone in particular again. Train younger men, send them off to fight. That was my angle. It was your people brought the fight to me.”
Broot struggled to breathe through his broken nose, coughed, and spat out a huge dark clot of blood. It lay on the dirt, a red so dark it approached blackness, shining wet in the candlelight. The prisoner didn’t speak.
“Truth is I came to like Suddapal. And Antea? Well, I didn’t used to have much against it, but it’s gone out of its way to complicate my daily life. Killed a fair number of my friends, besides. Took their babies to prison back in Camnipol. Put good men and women didn’t have anything to do with any conspiracy one way or the other into chains. That just seemed mean, now. Didn’t it to you?”
“I…”
“And them priests you’ve got? They’re some kind of Kesheti cunning men, ain’t they? Way I heard it, they got poisoned voices or some such. Get in a man’s head and just spin it all around.”
“Blessed,” Broot said, “of the goddess.”
“Never much held with that sort of thing myself,” Karol said, taking a pipe and a pouch from his belt. “Tobacco? It’s stale as dirt, but it’s what I have.”
Broot didn’t say no, so Karol lit the bowl, drew on it until the smoke was as rich as the thin leaves would allow, and then placed the stem of it between Broot’s abused lips. The prisoner breathed in and out through his mouth, the smoke curling up around his face. Karol smiled and took the pipe back.
“Now, Lord Protector. Why don’t we talk a bit about the city we’re both so fond of, eh? Seems like the forces there must be mighty thin to have the man in charge of the place leading the forces in the field. Or was it just that you felt all cocksure and glory-hungry?”
Broot swallowed. Karol took a small, thin knife out and started cleaning the dead tobacco from the bowl.
“All right,” Karol said. “Better if I’m specific, then. How many men do you have defending the city, and how are they deployed?”
Broot rolled his jaw, stretched his thick neck. His gaze came up to meet Karol’s. The white of his left eye was all bloody red. Karol tamped in a fresh wad of leaf and lit it, knowing before the prisoner spoke the sense of what he would say, if not the precise words.
“I will never betray my men,” the prisoner said. “And you will never defeat the Lord Regent.”
Karol took a long, slow draw on the pipe, nodding thoughtfully, then took the small cleaning knife and the pipe of burning tobacco, one in each hand, leaned forward, and did something terrible.
It took a few minutes for Broot’s breath to slow. The screaming turned to a long, high whine broken only by the ragged gasps when he drew in breath. His cheek and shoulder were pressed against the ground, and bits of dirt stuck to his eyelid. The ropes dug into his neck and his face darkened with blood, but not so much as to kill him or let him pass out.
Karol threw the ruined pipe to the corner and leaned back on his stool. “Truth is, I don’t greatly care whether you tell me. Do or don’t, I’m still taking that city back, and all the ghost tales you’d care to tell about your great and powerful Lord Regent don’t mean piss t’me.”
The whine shuddered. Karol sat forward with a sigh and wrenched Broot back up to squatting. He ran a finger along the rope around the prisoner’s neck, putting enough slack in it that the blood could flow again.
“You got any brothers or sisters? Children?” Karol asked, his tone conversational. “I got a brother lives in Daun. No children I know of, so I call it none. I’m guessing you’ve got some family back in Antea. Hell, maybe even a lover on the side. Friends. Favorite dogs. What my father used to tell me, whatever a man loves, that’s what you grab him by. Not a kind man, my father, but not a stupid one either.”
Broot was weeping now, snot and blood running out his ruined nose. His eyes were pressed closed. There was fresh blood on his belly.
“Here’s what you can do for me,” Karol said, his voice losing its false gentleness. “You picture them. All of them. And you picture everything you’ve done to the people under your fucking protection happening to them. Because when I am done with you, we will roll back every step you bastards took to get here. All the way back to Camnipol. I will find that little grey tower again, and I will bring every soldier I’ve got that’s lost a son or a mother or any loved thing along with me. And you think right now on how that day’s going to be.”
“Please…” Broot said, and then didn’t go on.
“We’ll have back for every last thing you broke. Every child you took. Every slaveman’s lash. All of it,” Karol said between clenched teeth. “And we’ll show your Geder Palliako what war looks like when he isn’t winning.”
Dramatis Personae
Persons of interest and import in The Widow’s House
IN THE GREATER WORLD
Inys, the last dragon
Marcus Wester, mercenary captain
Kitap rol Keshmat, former actor and apostate of the spider goddess
The Players
Cary
Hornet
Smit
Charlit Soon
Mikel
Sandr
Callon Cane, a convenient fiction
IN BIRANCOUR
The Medean bank in Porte Oliva
Cithrin bel Sarcour, voice of the Medean bank in Porte Oliva
Magistra Isadau, formerly voice of the Medean bank in Suddapal
Pyk Usterhall, notary to the bank
Yardem Hane, personal guard to Cithrin, also
Enen
Roach (Halvill)
Corisen Mout
Maestro Asanpur, a café owner
Mastién Juoli, master of coin
IN IMPERIAL ANTEA
The Royal Family
Aster, prince and heir to the empire
House Palliako
Geder Palliako, Regent of Antea and Baron of Ebbingbaugh
Lehrer Palliako, Viscount of Rivenhalm and his father
House Kalliam
Clara Kalliam, formerly Baroness of Osterling Fells
Barriath
Vicarian, and
Jorey; her sons
also Sabiha, wife to Jorey, and
Pindan, her illegitimate son
Annalise, her daughter
Vincen Coe, huntsman formerly in the service of House Kalliam
Abatha Coe, his cousin
House Skestinin
Lord Skestinin, master of the Imperial Navy
Lady Skestinin, his wife
House Annerin
Elisia Annerin (formerly Kalliam), daughter of Clara and Dawson
Gorman Annerin, son and heir of Lord Annerin and husband of Elisia
Corl, their son
House Daskellin
Canl Daskellin, Baron of Watermarch and Ambassador to Northcoast
Sanna, his eldest daughter
Also, various lords and members of the court, including
Sir Namen Flor
Sir Noyel Flor
Cyr Emming, Baron of Suderland Fells
Sir Ernst Mecelli
Sodai Carvenallin, his secretary
Sir Curtin Issandrian
Sir Gospey Allintot
Fallon Broot, Baron of Suderling Heights
and also Houses Veren, Essian, Ischian, Bannien, Estinford, Faskellan, Emming, Tilliakin, Mastellin, Caot, and Pyrellin among others
Basrahip, minister of the spider doddess and counselor to Geder Palliako
also some dozen priests
IN ELASSAE
Fallon Broot, protector of the fivefold city
Carol Dannien, a mercenary captain Cep Bailan, his officer
Salan, soldier and cousin of Isadau
IN NORTHCOAST
The Medean bank in Carse
Komme Medean, head of the Medean bank Lauro, his son
Chana, his daughter
Paerin Clark, bank auditor and son-in-law of Komme
Magister Nison, voice of the Median bank in Carse
King Tracian
IN HALLSKAR
Magra of Order Murro and several of his compatriots
THE DEAD
King Simeon, Emperor of Antea, dead from a defect of the flesh
King Lechan of Asterilhold, executed in war
Feldin Maas, formerly Baron of Ebbingbaugh killed for treason
Phelia Maas, his wife dead at her husband’s hand
Dawson Kalliam, formerly Baron of Osterling Fells, executed for treason
Alan Klin, executed for treason
Mirkus Shoat, executed for treason
Estin Cersillian, Earl of Masonhalm, killed in an insurrection
Lord Ternigan, Lord Marshal to Regent Palliako, killed for disloyalty
Magister Imaniel, voice of the Medean bank in Vanai and protector of Cithrin
also Cam, a housekeeper, and
Besel, a man of convenience, burned in the razing of Vanai
Alys, wife of Marcus Wester
also Merian, their daughter, burned to death as a tactic of intrigue
Lord Springmere, the Mayfly King, killed in vengeance
Akad Silas, adventurer, lost with his expedition
Assian Bey, collector of secrets and builder of traps, whose death is not recorded
Morade, the last Dragon Emperor, said to have died from wounds
Asteril, clutch-mate of Morade, maker of the Timzinae, dead of poison
Erex, lover of Inys whose manner of death is not recorded
Drakkis Stormcrow, great human general of the last war of the dragons, dead of age
An Introduction to the Taxonomy of Races
(From a manuscript attributed to Malasin Calvah, Taxonomist to Kleron Nuasti Cau, fifth of his name)
The ordering and arrangements of the thirteen races of humanity by blood, order of precedence, mating combination, or purpose is, by necessity, the study of a lifetime. It should occasion no concern that the finer points of the great and complex creation should seem sometimes confused and obscure. It is the intent of this essay to introduce the layman to the beautiful and fulfilling path which is taxonomy.
I shall begin with a brief guide to which the reader may refer.
Firstblood
The Firstblood are the feral, near-bestial form from which all humanity arose. Had there been no dragons to form the twelve crafted races from this base clay, humanity would have been exclusively of the Firstblood. Even now, they are the most populous of the races, showing the least difficulty in procreation, and spreading throughout the known world as a weed might spread through a rose garden. I intend no offense by the comparison, but truth knows no etiquette.
The Eastern Triad
The oldest of the crafted races form the Eastern Triad: Jasuru, Yemmu, and Tralgu.
The Jasuru are often assumed to be the first of the higher races. They share the rough size and shape of the Firstblood, but with the metallic scales of lesser dragons. Most likely, they were created as a rough warrior caste, overseers to control the Firstblood slaves.
The Yemmu are clearly a later improvement. Their great size and massive tusks could only have been designed to intimidate the lesser races, but as with other examples of crafted races, the increase in size and strength has come at a cost. Of all the races, the Yemmu have the shortest natural lifespan.
The Tralgu are almost certainly the most recent of the Eastern Triad. They are taller than the Firstblood and with the fierce teeth and keen hearing of a natural carnivore, and common wisdom holds that they were bred for hunting more than formal battle. In the ages since the fall of dragons, it is likely only their difficulty in whelping that has kept them from forcible racial conquest.
The Western Triad
As the Eastern Triad marks an age of war in which races were created as weapons of war, the western races delineate an age in which the dragons began to create more subtle tools. Cinnae, Dartinae, and Timzinae each show the marks of creation for specific uses.
The Cinnae, when compared to all other races, are thin and pale as sprouts growing under a bucket. However, they have a marked talent in the mental arts, though the truly deep insights have tended to escape them. As the Jasuru are a first attempt at a warrior caste, so the Cinnae may be considered as a rough outline of the races that follow them.
The Dartinae, while dating their creation from the same time, do not share in the Cinnae’s slightly better than rudimentary intelligence. Rather, their race was clearly built as a labor force for mining efforts. Their luminescent eyes show a structure unlike any other race, or indeed any known beast of nature. Their ability to navigate in utterly lightless caves is unique, and they tend to have the lithe frames one can imagine squeezing through cramped caves deep underground. Persistent rumors of a hidden Dartinae fortress deep below the earth no doubt spring from this, as no such structure has ever been found, nor would it be likely to survive in the absence of sustainable farming.
The Timzinae are, in fact, the only race whose place in the order of creation is unequivocally known. The youngest of the races, they date from the final war of the dragons. Their dark, insectile scales provide little of the protection that the Jasuru enjoy, but they are capable of utterly encasing the living flesh, even to the point of sealing all bodily orifices including ears and eyes. Their precise function as a tool remains obscure, though some suggest it might have been beekeeping.
The Master Races
The master races, or High Triad, represent the finest work of the dragons before their inevitable fall into decadence. These are the Kurtadam, Raushadam, and Haunadam.
The Kurtadam, like myself, show the fusion of all the best ideas that came before. The cleverness first hinted at in the Cinnae and the warrior’s instinct limned by the Eastern Triad came together in the Kurtadam. Also, alone among the races, the Kurtadam were given the gift of a full pelt of warming hair, and the arts of beading and adornments that clearly represent the highest in etiquette and personal beauty.
The Haunadam exist to the greatest extent in Far Syramys and its territories, and represent the refinement of the warrior impulse that created the Yemmu. While slightly smaller, the tireless Haunadam have a thick mineral layer in their skins which repels violence and a clear and brilliant intellect that has given them utter dominion over the western continent. Their aversion to travel by water restricts their role in the blue-water trade, and has likely prevented military conquest of other nations bounded by the seas.
The Raushadam, like the Haunadam, are primarily to be found in Far Syramys, and function almost as if the two races were designed to act as one with the other. The slightest of frame, Raushadam are the only race gifted by the dragons with flight.
The Decadent Races
After the arts of the dragons reached their height, there was a necessary and inevitable descent into the oversophisticated. The latter efforts of the dragons brought out the florid and bizarre races: Haaverkin, Southling, and Drowned.
The Haaverkin have spent the centuries since the fall of dragons clinging to the frozen ports of the north. Their foul and aggressive temper is not a sign that they were bred for war, but that an animal let loose without its master will revert to its bestial nature. While they are large as the Yemmu, this is due to the rolls of insulating fat that protect them from the cold north. The facial tattooing has been compared to the Kurtadam ritual beads by those who clearly understand neither.
The Southlings, known for their great black night-adapted eyes, are a study in perversion. Littering the reaches south of Lyoneia, they have built up a culture equal parts termite hill and nomadic tribe worship. While capable of sexual reproduction, these wide-eyed half-humans prefer to delegate such activity to a central queen figure, with her subjects acting as drones. Whether they were bred to people the living deserts of the south or migrated there after the fall of dragons because they were unable to compet
e with the greater races is a fit subject of debate.
The Drowned are the final evidence of the decadence of the dragons. While much like the Firstblood in size and shape, the Drowned live exclusively underwater in all human climes. Interaction with them is slow when it is possible, and their tendency to gather in shallow tidepools marks them as little better than human seaweed. Suggestions that they are tools created toward some great draconic project still in play under the waves is purest romance.
With this as a grounding, we can address the five philosophical practices that determine how an educated mind orders, ranks, and ultimately judges the races…
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank Danny Baror and Shawna McCarthy for hooking me up with the amazing team at Orbit. The book would not exist in its present form without the good work of Will Hinton, Ellen Wright, Alex Lencicki, Anne Clarke, and Tim Holman. And, as always, my thanks to my family for their support during the hard parts.
The failures and infelicities are my own.
extras
meet the author
Kyle Zimmerman
DANIEL ABRAHAM is the author of the critically acclaimed Long Price Quartet. He has been nominated for the Hugo, Nebula, and World Fantasy awards, and won the International Horror Guild award. He also writes as MLN Hanover and (with Ty Franck) James S. A. Corey. He lives in New Mexico.
introducing