Stronghold Rising
Sholan Alliance #6
Lisanne Norman
DAW Books, Inc.
Donald A. Wollheim, Founder
375 Hudson Street
New York, NY 10014
DAW Books
is proud to present
LISANNE NORMAN’S
Sholan Alliance Novels:
TURNING POINT (#1)
FORTUNE’S WHEEL (#2)
FIRE MARGINS (#3)
RAZOR’S EDGE (#4)
DARK NADIR (#5)
STRONGHOLD RISING (#6)
Copyright © 2000 by Lisanne Norman.
All Rights Reserved.
DAW Book Collectors No. 1154.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious.
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
ISBN: 0-88677-965-0
Electronic format made
available by arrangement with
DAW Books, Inc.
www.dawbooks.com
Elizabeth R. Wollheim
Sheila E. Gilbert
Publishers
peanutpress.com, Inc.
www.peanutpress.com
DEDICATION
This book is for the friend I have known longest, Sherry Ward. In these books I craft a vision we both share. And for Jean. Thank you both for your friendship and help over the years.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
As always, I have had help from friends providing me with essential knowledge I don’t possess. I’d like to thank them here.
Brotherhood Research and Development— Merlin, aka James Chorlton, and Helen Lofting.
Sholan Medical Advisers— Dr. Michelle Harris at the Lawrence General Hospital in Lawrence, Mass, USA.
Alliance Ship Designs— Josh Eastridge, John Phillips, and Martin J. Dougherty
Brotherhood Science Officer, Anchorage— Hanno (Hurga) Foest
Alien Relations— Marsha Jones, Pauline Dungate, MaryAnn Hollingsworth, Lynn Edwards, Ken Slater, Tony Rogers
Sholan Cartography and Architecture— Mike Gilbert
Thanks must also go to members of The Sholan Alliance Fan Club for helping me with my research in fields as diverse as space station designs, weapons, and medicine. People like Greg Hofer and Mary Ann Hollingsworth. Also other members of the medical section at Lawrence General Hospital in Lawrence, Mass. USA.
The Sholan Alliance Fan Club can be found at http://www.sholan-alliance.org
Exclusive E-book Introduction
This is the 6th novel in my Sholan Alliance series, and though not the final one, it is the last with a title relating to points of contact. Aptly named Stronghold Rising, under Rhyaz’ new leadership, Stronghold and the Brotherhood do, indeed, continue the uprising they started in Dark Nadir. That brings its own measure of trouble to the halls of power at the Governor’s Palace on Shola, and in its wake, some very unexpected consequences: like Lijou’s search of the ancient tunnels under Stronghold, deep in the very bones of the Dzahai Mountains.
As well as each novel having its own story to tell yet still contributing more to the larger plot of the series, as a writer I have my own behind-the-scenes plans within each that stretch my writing talent and help me to constantly learn more about my craft.
In this book, the focus moves back to Kusac as the main character and my Challenge, as a Sholan would say, was to look at how he would cope with the collapse of the life he’d known as a Telepath and the loss not only of his Talent, but his Leska Link to Carrie. I wanted to get inside Kusac’s head to let you, as the reader, understand what he was going through.
In order to do this, I decided, unusually for me, not to start immediately where I’d left off at the end of Dark Nadir, but to begin five months later and tell the story as a series of flashbacks until Kusac’s memories caught up with his present. This was something new, something I’d never tried before. So the novel opens with Kusac about to leave on a mission so secret that it will brand him as a traitor to his own people.
As always, new research was needed. In the last book, Dark Nadir, I’d searched web sites for information about Alien Abductions for the captive scenes on the Prime ship Kz’adul on the premise that there was nothing I could invent that would be more terrifying that what people who truly believe they have been alien abductees have gone through.
This time, however, I needed to look at the mental effects of the sustained and severe pain Kusac had endured during his captivity, and at how he would face life with a major disability. What would it be like for him to suddenly be a non-telepath in a close community of telepaths? Inevitably there would be closer links with the Primes - perhaps them even coming to Shola - how would Kusac cope with that given his father, as Head of Alien Relations, would be closely involved with their new allies? What would it be like for him when every time he entered a room, everyone there was suddenly ultra-positive, supportive and full of hope for his future?
What of the mysterious TeLaxaudin? Will they continue to try and find a cure for Kusac as they promised? Is there in fact any hope of Kusac regaining even a small portion of his Talent again?
Those of you who have been following the series know by now I don’t make it easy for my characters. So as well as the constant presence of Carrie, who is now pregnant by Kaid because of their Leska Link, Brother Dzaou, the Sleeper well known for his species prejudices and dislike of telepaths, is posted to Kusac’s estate in an effort to learn to bring his own prejudices under control. I felt he could prove a useful foil for the struggle Kusac faced.
And there’s the mystery to solve of exactly who visited Kusac in the dead of his last night on the Kz’adul. Was it indeed, Doctor Zayshul? And what did she want?
Kusac isn’t the only major character in this novel, there’s also General Kezule, the Valtegan from the past. He will face severe culture shock when he wakens and finds himself among what he can barely recognize as his own people. Having grown up in a virtually male-only culture, the free and intelligent females he’ll see everywhere will be a severe shock to him. But will he welcome it or not?
As the only male of the original Warrior caste now left alive, how real is his freedom on the Kz’adul going to be? Why did the Primes want him returned to them at the hostage exchange? What future will be open to the General in a world where he’s like a wolf caged among docile herd beasts and the Primes are well aware they are the herd beasts. Don’t forget Doctor Chy’qui’s culling of General M’ezozakk’s crew. What will happen when the Primes find out that Kezule’s distantly related to the Divine Emperor of his own time - or do they know already? Will his existence cause problems for the Prime Royal Family? These are just a few of the issues to be resolved from Dark Nadir.
As always, lesser characters get their spot on the center of the stage whenever possible. I enjoy doing this because through their eyes you can see more of the day to day life and culture of the Sholans. Like Kitra and Dzaka. Well, Dzaka did promise Kitra they could have their life-bonding ceremony at Stronghold, didn’t he? I imagine some of the catty younglings in her class at the Telepath Guild are going to be green with envy.
The Chemerian Ambassador Taira finally faces judgement for his crime of kidnapping Kate and Taynar, and Jeran and his U’Churian lover, Giyesh, make another appearance. And do you remember some time ago Kaid promised Dzaka that when he was no longer Oathbound, he’d tell him the truth of what had happened on the day of the final Leadership trials at Stronghold and what had led to Warrior Leader Ghezu expelling him publically from the Brotherhood? Well, the time has come for Kaid to tell his son all and for the final reckoning to happen.
But what of the larger picture? What is the darkness threatening Shola that Vartra spoke of? How did the K
z’adul know exactly where General M’ezozakk’s ship and Tirak’s Rryuk’s Profit were? Why do the Primes really want the M’zullian Warriors, and what were Chy’qui and the Directorate really up to with the Sholans? Why are the TeLaxaudin helping the Primes in the first place and how did such fragile aliens become allies of such once-powerful predators? In Stronghold Rising, I promise you will find many of the answers.
Nineteen ninety-nine, while I was writing this book, was an exciting year for me. I was very kindly invited to be a Guest at a convention in Berlin called EuroFurence 5. It was a first for me in several ways because I’d never been to Germany before, and obviously not to the capital city of Berlin. Though the convention was held on the outskirts in a holiday camp, we did spend a couple of days after the convention sight-seeing round the beautiful city of Berlin itself. As well as meeting an amazing group of people, I was lucky enough to be taken to a Tiger Rescue Ranch and spend an afternoon sitting within four feet of some of the most magnificent tigers I’ve ever seen. I was even allowed to pet one of them as he sang to me. Read Kipling, he describes the wonderful haunting sound they can make. I fell in love instantly.
As if that wasn’t enough, at the beginning of October, I visited the United States for another convention, held near Seattle, ConFurence West, where I met up with some old friends, one or two who’d been at the Berlin convention, and made new ones. During the convention, I was taken to meet a white tiger called Pepper who lived nearby. She was magnificent. I never realized white tigers had such deep blue eyes. Tigers are the most easily tamed of the big cats, but unless you have a great deal of land and time, I don’t advise owning one. All of the big cats need a great deal of attention and dedication - and money.
From Seattle, I went to stay with two of my friends at their home in a town near Mount St Helens. They own two cougars and a black panther. I’d never seen a cougar before, or been so close to a panther. Normally the panthers I’ve seen are a tiny black dot at the far side of a huge enclosure in a zoo. Not this time. Though I couldn’t be allowed close enough to touch them, I took dozens of pictures and spent several happy afternoons watching them. I had never realized the power inherent in their powerful shoulder and neck muscles - I now know I based my Sholans wisely on them.
From the North West, I took my son to the other side of the States, Florida and Disney World. We were unlucky and caught the tail end of a hurricane, but it was once again a marvelous experience. The Kennedy Space Center was like a pilgrimage for me. Then eight days later, we were on the move again.
For the several days run up to Hallowe’en, we stayed with another friend and her mother outside the town of Salem, Mass. That was fun and interesting. Hallowe’en is frowned on here in Britain nowadays, which is a shame as it was originally a celebration to say a last goodbye to friends and relatives who had died that year. Sometimes I think the British take themselves too seriously - being a Scot I can get away with saying that!
Finally it was off to New York to be with my editor for several days to discuss the final version of Stronghold Rising. I remember her husband taking a photo of us sitting on their sofa, one of us at each end, with our laptops on our knees and her three cats in the middle and trying to displace the laptops and us as we discussed the type face for the date headings and what to use for the gaps in the pages.
With her husband, we mapped out the interior art for the book - how we could represent the star map and the sketch of Stronghold itself. The Sholan alphabet was created by Mike so we could use the letter representing V as the Brotherhood symbol for Vartra for my scene breaks. It’s the symbol cut into the back of the coin every Brother or Sister wears once they’ve completed their training at Stronghold. I’m extremely lucky that Mike enjoys doing art work for my novels because he is so talented. Just as his wife can get into the skin of each character as well as I can, so too can Mike draw the world of Shola and her allies the way I visualize them. Then, on Hallowe’en itself, we sadly caught the plane back to the UK.
It was a truly enjoyable trip, lasting a whole month and letting me see far more of the rich variety of landscape and culture of America than I’ve ever seen before. And of course, every experience enriches my imagination and my writing skills. I was delighted when the German fan nicknamed Bagheera, who took us to the Tiger Ranch, said I was so accurate when describing the movements of the Sholan’s ears and tails as related to their emotions. So if you read a scene about the autumnal forest, then I’m thinking of Boston and Salem, and of mountains, I’m thinking of Seattle and Scappoose. And when our heroes reach Shola and step out into the heat of the Sholan summer, I am once again in Florida on the couple of very sunny days we had there.
My fifteen year old son eyed the pile of paperwork my editor and I decided I needed to take home with me to finish off the book. “Mum, I thought when you were a grown up you didn’t get homework, but it looks like I was wrong.” Once home, I added the finishing touches to Stronghold Rising. And here it is for you to enjoy.
Lisanne Norman
March 2000
http://www.sff.net/people/Lisanne
PART 1
Dreaming
CHAPTER 1
Stronghold, Zhal-S’Asha (Month of Approaching Darkness), 18th day, 1551 (October)
THE door behind him opened and closed. Ignoring the soft footfall, he continued to stare out across the Dzahai Mountains.
“I thought I’d find you here.”
“If you’ve come to persuade me not to go, you’ll fail,” he said shortly, trying to contain the anger that had been building now for several days.
“There’s no need for it to be you, surely. Since you came back from Haven, your— health— has not been good. Lijou and Rhyaz don’t even know that the message is genuine. Are you positive someone else couldn’t…”
“I’m going,” he interrupted, the other’s slight hesitation not lost on him. “As head of AlRel, you know why I was asked for specifically.”
There was a short silence. “At least delay it by a day or two, Kusac. It shouldn’t make any…”
“I’m leaving at dawn, when I know Carrie’s had their cub,” he said coldly. “To delay any longer would be disastrous.”
“Preparations aren’t complete. They haven’t found a way to access the ship to reprovision it yet. Rhyaz says we risk everything if you leave so precipitously.”
The tenuous control snapped and he spun around, ears lying flat and to the side, tail visibly lashing beneath the purple-bordered black tunic he wore. “You risk nothing! Have you any idea what these last few months have been like for me, cut off mentally from my Leska Link with Carrie, and from Kaid?”
“I can imagine…”
“You cannot! Now get out of here and leave me alone! You’ve had my answer! I’m leaving as soon as their cub is born! You know I have to!” He spun back to face the window, his gesture an obvious dismissal to the other black-pelted male.
He waited for the sound of the door again before allowing his shoulders to slump in exhaustion. The life he’d lost during his captivity with the Primes was almost within his grasp again, and they were asking him to turn his back on it. More, this venture, which had no guarantee of even being worthwhile, would cost him his reputation: he’d be outcast, branded a traitor by his own kind, unable to return until the outcome cleared his name— if it ever did.
He leaned his head against the glass, welcoming its coolness against his face and hands. Winter was barely three weeks away. Nearly five months had passed since he’d returned from Haven after his release by the Primes, and still he’d not come to terms with what had happened to him. Certain events must be resolved, like the scents only he could smell that had lingered on the message. He had to leave Shola now, before it was too late for him to get the answers he had to have.
Frustration and anger rose in him again and as his hair and the pelt beneath his tunic started to rise, he began to growl. The torc that circled his neck started to vibrate warningly. Ignoring it and the
subsequent brief flare of pain the strong emotion still occasionally caused, he lifted his head, letting the growl become a full-throated roar that echoed round the room. Those who still remained in the almost empty halls of Stronghold understood its cause and, shivering, turned to each other for reassurance.
As the echoes died away, he shuddered, trying to shake off the remaining discomfort, and returned to looking across the moonlit landscape, far beyond Dzahai village, to where Kaid’s home lay. Like images on an entertainment comm, memories of his time on Haven began to form before his eyes.
Haven, Zhal-Zhalwae (month of the Sun God), 22nd day, 1551 (May)
With a jolt, sweating and shaking, he was suddenly awake. Strong hands gripped his arms, holding him firmly down on the bed. Terror surged through him as he imagined himself back in his cell on the Kz’adul, held once more by the armored Prime guard. The scent of his jailer, J’koshuk, the Valtegan torturer-priest, was strong in his nostrils. Fear kept his eyes tightly shut as he braced himself for the next blow from the electronic animal prod.
“Kusac, you’re safe on Haven with us,” said a quiet voice in Sholan. “You had a bad dream.”
He opened his eyes; by the dim light in the IC unit, he could see a vaguely familiar tan-pelted face looking down at him. The bed to one side of him moved. Confused, he slowly turned his head, aware of a stabbing pain in his neck as he did. All he could see was an indistinct figure leaning over the night table until the room began to brighten: he recognized her long blonde hair instantly. Memory returned in a rush then. He was no longer the Primes’ prisoner, he was on the Brotherhood outpost of Haven, located far from Shola, on the borders of Chemerian space.
Carrie leaned over him, gently caressing his cheek. “You can let him go now, Kaid.”
The pressure on his arms was lifted as Kaid, still watching him carefully, sat back. He opened his mouth to speak, but only a faint croak came out.
“I’ll fetch you some water,” said Carrie, getting up.
Reaching for Kaid’s arm, he grasped it, using his friend’s strength to help him sit up. The sudden movement made him aware of a dull, throbbing headache. When Carrie passed him the glass, he drained it while she piled pillows behind him.
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