For Chaz
First published 2010 by Solaris an imprint of Rebellion Publishing Ltd. Riverside House, Osney Mead, Oxford, OX2 0ES, UK
www.solarisbooks.com
ISBN(.epub): 978-1-84997-240-6
ISBN(.mobi): 978-1-84997-239-0
Copyright © Juliet E McKenna 2010
Cover illustration: David Palumbo
The right of the author to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owners.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Designed & typeset by Rebellion Publishing
Also from Juliet E McKenna and Solaris Books
Chronicles of the Lescari Revolution
Irons in the Fire
Blood in the Water
Banners in the Wind
The Hadrumal Crisis
Dangerous Waters (Coming soon)
CHRONICLES OF THE LESCARI REVOLUTION
Irons in the Fire
Juliet E. McKenna
Taken from
The Political Almanac
Being a description of the current condition of those lands formerly provinces of the Tormalin Empire with notes on the status and reputation of those of notable rank.
Compiled by Marol Afmoor, Mentor and Scholar of the University of Vanam
Lescar remains a divided and fractious land with the prospect of unity beneath any undisputed High King as unlikely as it has been for these past ten generations.
Carluse continues to prosper thanks to its control of The Great West Road between the Caladhrian border at Abray and the border with Sharlac. Though it should be noted that merchant traffic from either east or west has not yet returned to the levels that generated such profitable tolls before the most recent conflict with Sharlac.
Prospecting for ores and quarrying stone in the hills between the Rel and Palat rivers continues. The horses bred by Duke Garnot's personal stable remain highly sought after, fetching the highest prices among discerning buyers.
Duke Garnot retains a force of mercenary troops but has not engaged in any military undertaking since the battle around the town of Losand where his troops engaged forces under the command of Lord Jaras, heir to Duke Moncan of Sharlac. The result of that battle was inconclusive, due to the deaths of both Lord Jaras and Duke Garnot's bastard son, Lord Veblen. However it is now clear that Lord Veblen would not have been lured into any incautious invasion of Sharlac's border, well aware that militia and mercenaries were ready to fall upon his forces. However it is widely believed that Carluse was preparing to follow the defence of Losand with a full-scale invasion of Sharlac, intending to cite this assault as provocation and justification.
The loss of Veblen, an able military commander much respected by the Carluse militia, put paid to such plans. His death has severely limited Carluse options. Duke Garnot knows he would be ill-advised to take the field himself until his noble heir, Lord Ricart, attains sufficient age and experience to rule with his father's firm hand, should Duke Garnot himself suffer injury or worse.
Relations between Carluse and Marlier remain tense, according to merchants engaged in shipping goods down the river Rel. Certain Caladhrian lords on the west bank of the Rel have reportedly warned Duke Carluse that any attempt to restrict trade or increase levies on river vessels while they travel between Abray and Marlier's border will incur their deep displeasure.
Rumours persist of threats of Caladhrian support should mercenary forces retained by Duke Ferdain of Marlier launch an incursion to secure both banks of the Rel all the way from Abray to the sea in the interests of open and secure commerce. Fortunately, there is no sign that any such attack is contemplated.
Duchess Tadira continues to promote close ties between Carluse interests and her brother Duke Orlin of Parnilesse. There is nothing to confirm or refute rumours of any greater understanding with Triolle.
Relations with Duke Secaris of Draximal remain cool given Draximal's long-standing alliance with Sharlac in order to deny Carluse control over The Great West Road. There have been reports that Duchess Tadira proposed a match between Lord Ricart and the eldest Lady of Draximal since Lord Jaras's death ended that bethrothal with Sharlac. It is widely believed that such an offer was soundly rebuffed.
Thus we can now discount Duchess Tadira's rumoured ambitions of securing the High King's crown for Lord Ricart through marriage alliances with Draximal and Triolle, her own ties with Parnilesse and the military defeat of Sharlac which would leave Marlier too isolated to oppose Carluse hegemony.
Sharlac shows no sign of resuming its military adventures against Carluse. If there was truly a plan to advance Sharlac's boundary to the eastern bank of the Palat river while Caladhrian forces advanced across the river Rel to seize the land running up to the Palat's western bank, that has most assuredly been abandoned since the battle of Losand.
It is now beyond doubt that Duke Moncan had no knowledge of Lord Jaras's participation and would never have permitted it, had he known. He would never have exposed his heir to such danger, even for the sake of luring pursuing Carluse forces back across the border and into ambush.
Since that abortive campaign, Sharlac militia forces have been much reduced and are little in evidence beyond maintaining the peace of The Great West Road. Duke Moncan has reduced his retained mercenary force to numbers merely sufficient to garrison the castle and town of Sharlac itself.
Duke Moncan has been living largely in seclusion since the death of his heir Lord Jaras and is believed to be dedicating himself to the education of his younger son Lord Kerlin.
There is no evidence of increased ties or commerce between Sharlac and Triolle following the wedding of Litasse, Lady of Sharlac, to Triolle's heir apparent. It would seem this match was merely one of family affection, arranged between the Duchess of Sharlac and her brother Duke Gerone, late of Triolle.
Triolle has seen a peaceful transition from the astute rule of the much lamented Duke Gerone to the unproven hands of his son Duke Iruvain. The youthful duke has done little of note thus far beyond reducing expenditure on mercenary forces, apparently in order to present a less belligerent aspect to Marlier on his western border and Parnilesse on his east, given his father's quarrels with both.
Such a reduction in readiness to bear arms might be considered unwise given Draximal's historic ambitions to annex land up to and including the silver-bearing hills on Triolle's north-eastern flank. There is no indication of such ambition at present, possibly because recent reports agree the mines are all but exhausted. Reduced income may be why Triolle is currently relying on seasonal militia drafts for patrols and garrisons along the border with Draximal.
Bridges and ferries across the rivers Dyal and Anock continue to be maintained at Triolle's expense. There is no sign of the increased river trade that Duke Gerone hoped to promote. It is believed the dukes of Marlier, Draximal and Parnilesse all made it clear to Duke Iruvain that encouraging any trade that would lead to a diminution of commerce along the rivers Rel, Drax and Asilor would incur their grave displeasure. Marlier and Parnilesse continue to dominate all coastal trade along the Gulf of Lescar.
There is no indication thus far of any child issuing from Duke Iruvain's wedding to Duchess Litasse. The succession remains secure through Lord Roreth, though rumours of his betrothal to one of the younger Ladies of Carluse remain unproven. This would be a prudent match. Carluse assistance would be vital if Triolle were to wit
hstand any Draximal incursions or become the battleground for some resumption of old hostilities between Marlier and Parnilesse.
Marlier shows no sign of increased hostility to Parnilesse or Triolle. The previous alliance with Sharlac to attack Carluse from both north and south has been abandoned. Duke Ferdain's attention has turned entirely to the west. He is currently active in promoting trade up and down the river Rel, facilitating a boom in shipping between Abray and Relshaz. His relations with both the Relshazri magistrates, the Caladhrian lords on the western bank of the Rel and the guild masters of Abray remain excellent, to their mutual profit.
This is doubtless in no small part due to the numbers of Marlier exiles living in such places and all along the trading routes throughout Ensaimin. Remittances from such exiles continue to alleviate the poverty that their families still in Marlier would otherwise have to endure.
Dues and tolls paid along the river Rel enable Marlier to retain considerable numbers of mercenaries. Under the command of Ridianne the Vixen, these troops effectively curb Carluse ambitions along their common border. They also keep the peace in those riverside camps where unsworn mercenaries from across Lescar gather for rest and recuperation and customarily seek winter shelter. Rumours persist that Caladhrian lords pay Marlier to ensure such mercenaries do not cross the Rel to plunder their lands. This remains unproven.
It is beyond doubt that Caladhrian lords and merchants continue to profit from selling supplies to the mercenary camps, as well as from buying raw materials from Marlier and the rest of Lescar. They then return the finished goods that the disruptions and uncertainties of life prevent the Lescari from making for themselves.
Parnilesse interests continue closely involved with the noble houses of Tormalin who hold lands across the river Asilor on their eastern border, most notably the princes of Den Breche and D'Otadiel. Parnilesse exiles continue to strengthen such ties and to support their relatives still living under Duke Orlin's rule. Tormalin merchants remain able to buy materials and sell their wares in Parnilesse under extremely favourable terms.
However Parnilesse pre-eminence as Tormalin's principal trading partner may soon be challenged by Draximal. Duke Secaris's envoys have been negotiating with the princes of Den Haurient, Den Breche and D'Otadiel.
Duke Orlin's ability to counter this threat to his Tormalin trade has been hampered by unrest within Parnilesse's own borders. Hostile pamphlets are appearing once again in all the ports and principal markets. Letters are nailed to shrine doors at night repeating the old calumny that the dowager duchess poisoned the late duke. Now the rabble-rousers are asserting that she did this with Duke Orlin's prior knowledge and full acquiescence. They cite the voluble dissatisfaction of the late duke's younger sons with the provision made for them on his deathbed as evidence of suspicions within the ducal family.
Duke Orlin has been using both mercenary companies and his own trained militiamen to suppress such rumour-mongering as well as paying handsome rewards to anyone identifying those responsible. All those discovered aiding and abetting the pamphleteers are closely questioned and flogged. The rabble-rousers themselves suffer far harsher penalties. There are rumours that the mercenaries of the coastal enclave of Carif have been selling prisoners to slavers trading with Aldabreshin warlords. Duke Orlin is inevitably accused of tacit connivance in this vile practice.
The princes of Tormalin are concerned both by the persistence of such accusations and the evident disunity between Duke Orlin and his brothers. There are indications that lords with border holdings are looking more favourably on trade with Draximal as a consequence.
Draximal is intent on making up losses of tolls thanks to the reduced trade along the Great West Road by increasing its trade with Tormalin. Ducal envoys are known to have visited the junior princes of many noble houses holding lands along Tormalin's western border.
This past winter, the Duchess of Draximal paid extended visits to the principal residences of the Den Haurient, Den Breche and D'Otadiel families, accompanied by her elder daughters. A marriage alliance with a cadet branch of the Den Breche family is widely expected.
Since this will clearly provoke Parnilesse resentment, Duke Secaris continues to maintain significant mercenary forces along his southern border. Vassal lords in northern Parnilesse accuse these companies of raiding their lands as well as skirmishing with mercenaries retained by their own duke in pursuit of private quarrels of their own. The danger of such conflict breaking into open warfare remains potent.
Draximal trained militias regularly patrol his borders with Triolle and with Carluse. Duke Secaris remains suspicious of Duke Garnot's ambitions despite the current lull in hostilities between Carluse and Sharlac.
There have been rumours of Draximal forces encroaching into Sharlac territory to deter raids from Dalasorian clansmen. This has prompted much indignation among the vassal lords of eastern Sharlac but there has been no response from Duke Moncan.
Chapter One
Tathrin
The City of Vanam, Northern Ensaimin,
Spring Equinox Festival, Third Day, Evening
He stood still in the midst of the chaos. Fear threw his wits into utter confusion, robbing his legs of any strength.
"Make way! Make way!"
Voices bellowed, brutal with panic. Festival garlands of green leaves and spring flowers were knocked from doors and cornices to be crushed underfoot.
Sweat beaded Tathrin's forehead. His heart was racing, breath catching painfully in his throat. He felt as if he were choking.
This was how it had been when the gutters had run red and the agonies of the dying had echoed around the houses. Their cries had mingled with the murderous exultation of their assailants, so it was impossible to know which way to run for safety, or which way would take you straight onto the killers' sword-points.
Men and women, old and young, fought blindly to outstrip the others. There was simply no escape from the fleeing crowd confined between the tall wood and brick houses. Screams of pain pierced the hubbub. Tathrin saw a burly man trip on a loose cobblestone and fall to be trampled by uncaring boots.
A glimpse of a woman's stockings, petticoats hitched high as she jumped over the fallen man, recalled the dreadful sights he'd seen. The sobbing girl cradling the half-severed head of her lover, her brother or merely some friend. Whoever he had been, her skirts were sodden with his lifeblood, her bare legs exposed for all to see.
Hooves scraped on the cobbles. Horsemen were coming.
He'd seen what mounted warriors could do. Riding down the helpless and unarmed townsfolk, slashing at unprotected heads and shoulders with their heavy swords. Driving their frenzied steeds to trample those lying injured in the open. The leader's white mount had been splashed with so much blood it had looked like a painted sorrel.
He had to move. Blindly struggling, he fought his way up the sloping street, away from the approaching riders. A vicious elbow dug into his ribs and a hobnailed shoe scraped down his anklebone, the sudden pain excruciating.
The only way to escape their murderous rampage was to find some recess too deep for their swords to reach, some alleyway so narrow that even their whip-scarred horses would baulk at entering it.
Dread lending strength to his already impressive height, Tathrin forced a path to the dubious shelter offered by the overhang of a house's upper floors. As soon as he reached it, though, he regretted the choice. Now he was trapped, the carved wood of the frontage digging painfully into his back.
"Saedrin save us!"
Two women shrieked hysterically, grabbing for their children as the swirling confusion of the crowd threatened to tear them apart. One of them, a little maid, wailed, her festival dress torn and fouled. Tathrin would have gone to help them but he couldn't move, crushed as he was against the building.
Saedrin had saved precious few before. The mounted mercenaries had shown the shrine of even the greatest of gods no respect. Throwing blazing torches in among those who'd vainly sought shelter
there, the murderous scum had slammed the door and barred it shut. Every last person inside had died, their charred corpses crushed amid the funeral urns of their forebears when the shrine's roof had collapsed.
He heard a horse's whinny rise above some bestial noise halfway between a snarl and a squeal.
"Fair festival and Trimon's grace, if you please." A robust townsman and his wife, both too stout and too canny to succumb to unnecessary alarm, pushed past, arms linked as they made their way composedly up the street.
Others who'd been braving the muck of the cobbles joined those crowding the paved walk in front of shops and taverns. Tathrin finally saw what was happening.
"Make way for Talagrin's hunters!"
Cheerful voices shouted appeals in the hunting god's name. Their exuberant horns were deafening.
"Go shit on your own doorstep!" a surly householder shouted from an upper window, prompting laughter and agreement from the crowd.
A half-grown russet pig was running up the sloping street, two men on horses harrying it with lances. Already bleeding from gashes on its shoulders and hindquarters, the infuriated beast was unable to decide where to attack first.
"Get back! Get back!"
Budding sprigs of ash pinned to their tunics, hunters on foot rushed up to level sturdier spears and make an impromptu barrier between the infuriated beast and the jostling crowd. Others stood ready, their broad blades pointing downwards.
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