Lord Gallendris had not been to many parties over the last few months, but it was important to him to keep up appearances. As his activities in the streets, his disguises, and his plans with Lord Thrane continued, Farek knew how it was important to remain—to the public—as the heavy drinking, flirtatious brother of the Mazaar.
In Soros, such public affairs were attended on a nightly basis. Continue reading Farek 13
As Arn twisted in the mud to catch the muscular forearm before it broke another of his ribs, he tried to think if there had been another way. He had summoned all of his hunting band before him to put a stop to their subordinate behavior, their doubts, their questions. And now he fought. Continue reading Arn 16
“By the time I got there,” Woodro told his crowd of onlookers, “I was sweating. The boat was absolutely sweltering!”
Renado rolled his eyes and leaned back against the bar. Tass stood on the other side, helping herself to an afternoon drink, while Woodro entertained a group of barmaids and drunks with stories of his heroics. Ren supposed that it shouldn’t bother him. Woodro was the hero of that story, riding a flaming galley into a harbor of enemy soldiers and living to tell the tale. Continue reading Renado 11
The Eye of Maga was built on the south bank of the waters it was named for. While small towns and clusters of civilization surrounded the entire Eye, much of it was just a wooden palisade wall patrolled by the royal guard. There were two main portions that were considered the city—the Inland Docks and the Seaward Docks. At the Inland Docks, where the river basin reached the eye, Zanna and her escort of riverboats split. The river gate was opened and Zanna’s skiff alone was guided across the pristine waters of the Eye toward the Palace. The other boats were disembarked in the labour district near the docks, where the sixteen imprisoned bandits—and the forty-five members of their families—would be escorted by Zanna’s guards to a suitable prison. Continue reading Zanna 8
Aralim sweated a lot that day, as he sat in the amphitheatre of the Third Court and listened to merchants discussing prices with his fellow Selected. He had slept well, at least, but now had the length of one day to determine if the royal consort, Zarru, was going to accompany Vaenuth and her caravan. If he failed, he would be back to the first step in determining a way to save her life while convincing Ovoe he had killed her. Continue reading Aralim 47
A messenger arrived at the estate on West Corid avenue midafternoon on the first day of the new month. When Aralim heard that the courier had only brought word that Vaenuth and one of her companions would be joining them for dinner, he had gone back into his reading room in concern. Her visit would be pleasant, he hoped, but he had been expecting news from Zarru. It had been a week since she had resolved to speak with the Emperor, and he had heard nothing. Continue reading Aralim 46
“Listen,” Ren said, quietly. He had taken Woodro aside, while Tass stood with Bran near the big tropical tree. Its vines draped down, almost obscuring the Dispatch from view. Zashee stood on board, making preparations. All three had been waiting with the ship, ready for Vanci’s return. They had not believed Renado’s story—that a year had passed! And that Vanci had been captured, or that the Family had fallen. When Tass had told them the same thing, then they began to believe. Continue reading Renado 10
Shar paid Arn a visit, late one afternoon. His presence, or that of Onolan, or another hunter named Panatt—they seemed to be around him always now. On hunts, one of the three was nearby all the time. And when he left his hut, he spotted them. There had not been any in-fighting since Thalla and Shar fought, while Arn lay on the sickbed. But the simmering discontent had almost started to boil. Continue reading Arn 15
The bar at the Seastar had grown harder, somehow. Renado was certain it was bruising his chin now, as he slumped against it and cradled the warm mug of cider against his cheek. He wasn’t sure where Tass was… perhaps she had moved in with the resident gamblers at their corner table. Or maybe she had died with the others and the grief had so blinded Ren that he had imagined her continued existence at his side. Continue reading Renado 9
Lord Thrane finally found Farek for that drink they had agreed to share. Lord Gallendris was on his way home when he’d been stopped by the older man. Farek followed Thrane’s suggestion and they sought out a bar known as the Royal Whale, the finest of the maritime locations in Soros. Their meeting in the streets reminded Farek of news he’d received recently. News that might change everything. Continue reading Farek 12