Guardians of the Desert (Children of the Desert)

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Guardians of the Desert (Children of the Desert) Page 1

by Leona Wisoker




  Table of Contents

  Praise for Guardians of the Desert

  Children of the Desert series

  Guardians of the Desert

  Dedication

  Royal Library Map no. 123

  To Lord Oruen, greetings from Lord Cafad Scratha, Regent-Head of Scratha Fortress

  A Discussion of Desert Family Structure, Leadership, and Hereditary Positions

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Regarding Common Misunderstandings

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Desert Pride, Honor, and Death

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  An Explanation Of Commerce

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Drugs of the Southlands

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Etiquette of the South

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Relative Life Spans

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-one

  Chapter Forty-two

  Chapter Forty-three

  On The Matter of Ha’reye and Ha’ra’hain

  Chapter Forty-four

  Chapter Forty-five

  Chapter Forty-six

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Chapter Forty-nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-one

  Chapter Fifty-two

  Chapter Fifty-three

  Chapter Fifty-four

  Chapter Fifty-five

  Chapter Fifty-six

  Chapter Fifty-seven

  Chapter Fifty-eight

  Chapter Fifty-nine

  Chapter Sixty

  Chapter Sixty-one

  Chapter Sixty-two

  Chapter Sixty-three

  Chapter Sixty-four

  Chapter Sixty-five

  Chapter Sixty-six

  Chapter Sixty-seven

  Chapter Sixty-eight

  Chapter Sixty-nine

  Chapter Seventy

  Chapter Seventy-one

  Chapter Seventy-two

  Guardians of the Desert Glossary and Pronunciation Guide

  About the Author

  Want More?

  Author updates

  Praise for Guardians of the Desert

  “An absorbing story, a unique world, and fascinating characters. Leona Wisoker is definitely a writer to watch!”

  —Tamora Pierce

  “Compelling characters and a colorful setting make this a satisfactory multivolume fantasy.”

  —Library Journal

  “For its complexity, intriguing story, and (as in the first volume) for its characters I find totally fascinating, I heartily recommend Guardians of the Desert.”

  —SF Revu

  “A storyteller with a good deal of promise. Give this one a try.”

  — CJ Cherryh

  “Sturdy, engaging, confidently-written—Guardians of the Desert is all any fan could have hoped for in a sequel. The delightful Ms. Wisoker is now two for two.”

  —C.J. Henderson

  Children of the Desert series

  by Leona Wisoker

  ~

  Book One: Secrets of the Sands

  Book Two: Guardians of the Desert

  Guardians of the Desert

  Leona Wisoker

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For information address Mercury Retrograde Press.

  This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2010 by Leona Wisoker

  Interior map by Ari Warner Copyright © 2009

  Cover illustration Copyright © 2010 by Aaron Miller

  Cover design by Rachael Murasaki Ish

  First Kindle Edition—published 2011

  ISBN 978-1-936427-06-2

  MERCURY RETROGRADE PRESS

  6025 Sandy Springs Circle

  Suite 320

  Atlanta, Georgia 30328

  www.MercuryRetrogradePress.com

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to all the librarians who are trying to do more and more with less and less, every day. I would not have begun reading fantasy fiction without the guidance of a librarian; I certainly would not have begun writing it. I owe a great debt to the public library system: one beyond repaying.

  To librarians everywhere, I say: Never doubt that you are appreciated; by me, at least, you are deeply loved.

  Acknowledgments

  Writing well is not a solitary art; I could not have produced this book without the support of dozens of people. My husband has never stopped believing in my ability to overcome any obstacle; and I, not wanting to disappoint him, have scaled mountains I never would have dared try otherwise. My parents have cheered me on unceasingly. My siblings, extended family, and friends have all been supportive beyond my wildest dreams. I must offer a deep bow to the exceptional trio of Chris Addotta, Amy Smith, and Ame Morris, all of whom not only served as the best beta-reader group I could have asked for, but have also helped me staff convention tables, fed me when I was ill, and made me laugh when I was cranky. Chris Addotta created the calendars and the complex game of chabi. I truly could not have gotten through Book Two without these three wonderful ladies! Another specific and sincere bow goes to Coyote Run; their music has kept me going through late-night editing rampages, online conference discussions, and long-distance drives. It would have taken me twice as long to finish this book without their tremendous and contagious energy driving me on. And I was blessed, once more, with magnificent cover artwork: I am humbly grateful to Aaron Miller for working with us to produce such perfection.

  Many more names deserve mention: Allen Wold (the best writing mentor I have yet encountered), Edward Morris (proflic past the point of insanity), Zachary Steele (just insane—in a good way), John Adcox (an amazing writer and friend); the list is a long and diverse one, and includes the staff and volunteers of several conventions: MarsCon, RavenCon, Wicked Faire, BaltiCon, Faerie Escape Atlanta, CapClave, and DarkoverCon. Then there is Steven Savage, whose book Fan to Pro serves as a constant nudge for me to aim ever higher; Beau Carr of The William & Mary College Bookstore, who set me up with my first-ever bookstore book signing and was gracious enough to invite me back several times; Debbie and Brian of Mystic Moon in Norfolk, who invited me in for a signing that proved to be the most welcoming experience I had all year; all the blurbers for the first book (especially C.J. Henderson, who was not afraid to tell me about the soft spots in Secret
s of the Sands—gotta love that honesty! It helped me improve Book Two immeasurably); Rick Starets, from whom I learned a great deal about showmanship; Ari Warner, whose maps continue to illuminate my fictional world; and last but by far not the least, all the fantastic librarians who added my book to their catalogs. I know I have left out names worthy of notice, and I apologize; but I simply do not have room for all the thank you notes, and must pick and choose from the very top of the list.

  Above all, I must go down on one knee to my publisher and editor, Barbara Friend Ish of Mercury Retrograde Press: for pushing me to go ever deeper, to take more risks, and for leading the waltz out of my comfort zone into a place where I could grow as a writer. You would not be holding this book in your hands without her expert and dedicated guidance, and I salute her with all my heart.

  Royal Library Map no. 123

  The Southlands and Southern Kingdom

  To Lord Oruen, greetings from Lord Cafad Scratha, Regent-Head of Scratha Fortress

  As by now you must know that I disregarded your instruction to travel north as your Researcher, some explanation is in order. First let me assure you that the assignment has not been abandoned completely; my former servant, Idisio, has agreed to continue the work. While he is, of course, not yet the scholar or possessed of the level of learning you may have desired in a Researcher, still he learns quickly and has a sharp eye. I hold every confidence that he will perform sufficiently for your needs.

  His companions, one Deiq of Stass and one Lord Alyea Peysimun, are traveling with him due to an unusual combination of circumstances, and only part of that tale is rightfully mine to tell. They may or may not share their own influences on the situation with you, and thus my account of how I come to be resident at Scratha Fortress and a former street-thief has taken on your assignment of chronicling the northlands must necessarily remain incomplete.

  As briefly as possible, then: during my initial travel eastward with Idisio along the Coast Road, I passed through each village along that main road and made certain notes, as follows: Kybeach, the closest village upon Bright Bay borders, is a small and unpleasant town which is breeding a remarkable amount of resentment and squalor. The residents are sullen and hostile, and the heavy stamp of Northern Church abuse lies clear on every face. Their main industry seems to have been that of gerho breeding, headed by one Asti Lashnar; Ninnic and Mezarak were apparently far fonder of dining on gerho than you, Lord Oruen, have proven to be. Your dismissal of gerho from your kitchen has put a catastrophic strain on Kybeach as a whole and the merchant Lashnar in particular. I strongly recommend extending a hand to this village; as close as it stands against Bright Bay, I feel you can ill afford the villagers’ resentment to grow any further or even to remain at its current, dangerous level.

  Moving on from Kybeach, we traveled to Obein. The difference between the two is distinct: Obein is tidy and cheerful, resilient and even prosperous in the wake of recent events. Their residents are merchants and craftspeople, farmers and innkeepers; altogether a higher class of folk, with much less fear or harm in their souls than even the happiest person in Kybeach. I am at a loss to explain this distinction, except to note that the swamp stench of Kybeach and the distance of Obein, along with the clear preference of merchants to pause at the farther station to arrange themselves preparatory to arriving in Bright Bay, has given the two villages a very different spirit.

  From Kybeach we moved on to Sandsplit and there encountered the surprises that turned me to the southlands. Your missive, for one, caught up with me there; and I will pause in my narrative for a moment to note that if you aimed to enrage me with that note, you certainly succeeded. With the passage of time since that day, my temper has cooled somewhat, and I now believe your attempt to inform me of proceeding matters held no intention of malice; rather an astounding level of ignorance you can ill afford if you expect to deal with the desert Families and win their respect to any degree. Sending a young northern woman with no ties to, nor understanding of, the southlands along with one of your so-called “Hidden”–who are known, every one, to all those involved in southland politics, as spies and assassins–and your preferred advisor, a man as well known to be hask, traitor to his chosen faith and banned from the southlands; in short, choosing this combination of ambassadors to hold Scratha Fortress in my absence was a catastrophically poor one. It may take you years to recover from the consequences of this one decision, although I recognize that you had no way to know the intricacies of the situation.

  I will thank you, however, for your warning that Pieas Sessin had left to hunt me, and for the information that he was disowned and disgraced. Although you clearly expected him to follow our false trail west to the Stone Islands, still your very timely information quite possibly saved my life and that of my then-servant, Idisio: Pieas Sessin caught up with me in Sandsplit Village. Your warning gave me a chance to prepare, and he fled rather than face me.

  A troubling piece of information also came to light during my stay in Sandsplit; a northern man has taken over one of the local inns. He claims a southerner came to his home city of Stecatr and offered a trade of one inn for another; offered, in fact, a high enough price for the northerner’s inn that the man leapt at the chance and promptly moved south to claim his new business. While this may seem a trivial matter, I see a worrisome possibility inherent in the matter; given Stecatr’s position, both geographically and politically, I suggest you look into this to see if other southerners are pursuing such trades. An influx of northerners into the Coastal Road area could severely unbalance matters ranging from trade to local culture, as would a similar flood of southerners, whether kingdom or Family, into the conservative northlands.

  Returning to my narrative: I chose, after reading your missive, to abandon the task of King’s Researcher in favor of returning to Scratha Fortress, considering the dangerous game you had set into motion more important to rectify than was completing your assignment. The horses you had loaned me I left in the care of a local merchant named Yuer; he may return them or not, as he pleases. That matter you must take up directly with Yuer himself.

  My notes on Sandlaen Port, from whence we departed by ship, must wait for another time, as they are largely irrelevant to this section of the tale. I will admit that in order to speed our travels and avoid inconvenient arguments with you, Idisio and I stayed below while the ship restocked its supplies in Bright Bay, and I instructed captain and crew to keep mute as to our presence.

  Our arrival at Agyaer Port and our climb up the long Wall Stair are similarly irrelevant to your concerns, save to note that I sent out multiple missives of my own during that time, calling for a Conclave to be held at Scratha Fortress. As noted above, I knew your choice of ambassadors would spark deep problems and decided it most appropriate to summon an official, recorded gathering to address that issue and one other: that of Pieas Sessin’s disgraceful behavior, long overdue for formal recognition.

  Our travels to Scratha Fortress are likewise irrelevant to you at this time. Upon arrival at the Fortress, then: among the arrived Family representatives were Alyea and Pieas himself; the former accompanied by Deiq of Stass and the latter under the protection of another Family. Sorting out both matters ended with Lord Alyea’s investment as a full desert lord and the death of Pieas Sessin, ironically as part of Lord Alyea’s investment. That part of the story, as I intimated above, is not properly mine to address. I suggest you speak with Lord Alyea herself regarding the matter, and if possible with Deiq of Stass.

  I have chosen to remain at Scratha Fortress for the foreseeable future; I have come to see your advice to rebuild my Family rather than continue a wandering search for vengeance to be, after all, wise words. I am sending Idisio, as mentioned previously, to complete your initial errand; he will take on the name of Gerau Sa’adenit in his writings, so as to provide a seamless transition in the annals of history. Please render him the same assistance and courtesies you would have shown to me. He has proven himself, in our travels,
to be exceptionally bright and, once removed from his initial immoral life, quite reasonable in his ethics as well. He holds the full support of Scratha Family and is to be treated as a noble of our line at the very least.

  Rest assured that Scratha Fortress considers you an ally and will provide what it may to assist you during your time of leadership. A formal ambassador shall be appointed to your court as soon as I have trained one to my satisfaction; that ambassador will speak further with you, at that time, on matters of trade and other agreements.

  Meanwhile, I enclose the first of several missives to come, providing an account of southland politics and history which you may find useful in avoiding egregious errors in the future. As a matter of policy, the desert Families have not provided this information to northern kings; you yourself must admit that the majority of the last few kings have not been particularly safe to entrust with any real knowledge. As examples I present Ninnic, who almost destroyed your kingdom in his madness; Mezarak, similarly if less strongly afflicted; and Dusty Rose, the king who not only brought a street whore into his court circle, but following her death took on her moniker as a way to honor her memory, shortly thereafter dying himself of the same foul rot which had taken his beloved streetwalker. This last king is still commemorated in bawdy songs sung by rough sailors. I would in passing suggest you lift the ban on such songs, as execution seems a harsh punishment for a bit of satirical commentary on what was, unarguably, an asinine moment in the history of your kingdom.

  As you, however, seem relatively sane and reasonably intelligent, I entrust you with this knowledge–not lightly, as the other Families are sure to be annoyed with me for defying their collective decision to dole out only what they feel you need to know–but with the certainty that if you are left in ignorance you will once again stick your foot in a pie of the type which is baked in no oven.

 

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