- Home
- Robert Lynn Asprin
Blood Ties tw-9
Blood Ties tw-9 Read online
Blood Ties
( Thievs World - 9 )
Robert Lynn Asprin
Robert Lynn Asprin
Blood Ties
Dramatis Personae
The Townspeople
AHDIOVIZUN; AHDIOMER viz; AHDIO, Proprietor of Sty's Place, a legendary dive within the Maze.
LALO THE LIMNER, Street artist gifted with magic he does not fully understand.
GILLA, His indomitable wife.
ALFI, Their youngest son.
LATILLA, Their daughter.
OANNER, Their middle son, slain during the False Plague riots of the previous winter.
VANDA, Their daughter, employed as maid-servant to the Beysib at the palace.
WEDEMIR, Their son and eldest child.
DUBRO, Bazaar blacksmith and husband to Illyra.
ILLYRA, Half-blood S'danzo seeress with True Sight. Hounded by PFLS in the False Plague.
ARTON, Their son, marked by the gods and magic as part of an emerging divinity known as the Stormchildren. Sent to the Bandaran Isles for his safety and education.
ULLIS, Their daughter, slain in the False Plague riots.
HAKIEM, Storyteller and confidant extraordinaire.
JUBAL, Prematurely aged former gladiator. Once he openly ran Sanctuary's most visible criminal organization, the Hawkmasks. Now he works behind the scenes.
SALIMAN, His aide and only friend.
MAMA BECHO, Owner of a particularly disreputable tavern in Downwind.
MASHA ZIL-INEEL, Midwife whose involvement with the destruction of the Purple Mage enabled her to move from the Maze to respectability uptown.
MORIA, One-time Hawkmask and servant to Ischade. She was physically transformed into a Rankan noblewoman by Haught.
MYRTIS, Madam of the Aphrodesia House.
SHAFRALAIN, Sanctuary nobleman who can trace his lineage and his money back to the days of llsig's glory.
ESARIA, His daughter.
EXPIMILIA, His wife.
CUSHARLAIN, His cousin. A customs inspector and investigator.
SNAPPER JO, A fiend who survived the destruction of magic in Sanctuary.
STILCHO, Once one of Ischade's resurrected minions, he was "cured" of death when magic was purged from Sanctuary.
ZIP, Bitter young terrorist. Leader of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Sanctuary (PFLS).
The Magicians
HAUGHT, One-time apprentice of Ischade who betrayed her and is now trapped in a warded house with Roxane.
ISCHADE, Necromancer and thief. Her curse is passed to her lovers who die from it.
ROXANE; DEATH'S QUEEN, Nisibisi witch. Nearly destroyed when Stormbringer purged magic from Sanctuary, she is trapped inside a warded house and a dead man's body.
Others
THERON, New military Emperor. An usurper placed on the throne with the aid ofTempus and his allies. He has commanded that Sanctuary's walls must be rebuilt by the next New Year Festival.
The Rankans living in Sanctuary
CHENAYA; DAUGHTER OF THE SUN, Daughter of LOW an Vigeles, a beautiful and powerful young woman who is fated never to lose a fight. DAYRNE, Her companion and trainer.
LEYN, OUUEN, DISMAS AND GESTUS, Her friends and fellow gladiators.
GYSKOURAS, One of the Stormchildren, currently in the Bandar an Isles for education.
PRINCE KADAKITHIS, Charismatic but somewhat naive half-brother of the recently assassinated Emperor, Abakithis.
DAPHNE, His estranged wife, living with Chenaya's gladiators at Land's End.
KAMA; JES, Tempus' daughter. 3rd Commando assassin. Sometime lover of both Zip and Molin Torchholder.
LOWAN VIGELES, Half-brother of Molin Torchholder, father of Chenaya, a wealthy aristocrat self-exiled to Sanctuary. Owner of the Land's End Estate.
MOLIN TORCHHOLDER; TORCH, Archpriest and architect of Vashanka; Guardian of the Stormchildren.
ROSANDA, His estranged wife, living at Land's End.
RANKAN 3RD COMMANDO, Mercenary company founded by Tempus Thales and noted for its brutal efficiency.
SYNC, Commander of the 3rd.
RASHAN; THE EYE OF THE SAVANKALA, Priest and Judge of Sanvankala. Highest ranking Rankan in Sanctuary prior to the arrival of the Prince, now allied with Chenaya's disaffected Rankans at Land's End.
STEPSONS; SACRED BANDERS, Members of a mercenary unit founded by Abarsis who willed their allegiance to Tempus Thales after his own death. CRITIAS; CRIT, Leftside leader paired with Straton. Second in command after Tempus.
RANDAL; WITCHY-EARS, The only mage ever trusted by Tempus or admitted into the Sacred Band.
STRATON; STRAT; ACE, Rightside partner of Critias. Injured by the PFLS at the start of the False Plague riots.
TASFALEN LANCOTHIS, Jaded nobleman, slain by Ischade's curse, then resurrected by Haught. His body has become Roxane's prison.
TEMPOS THALES; THE RIDDLER, Nearly immortal mercenary, a partner of Vashanka before that god's demise; commander of the Stepsons; cursed with a fatal inability to give or receive love.
WALEGRIN, Rankan army officer assigned to the Sanctuary garrison where his father had been slain by the S'danzo many years before.
The Gods
DYAREELA, A goddess whose worship in Sanctuary predates the Ilsigi presence and which has been outlawed many times since then.
HARRAN, Physician and priest to Siveni Gray-Eyes, now part of her four-fold divinity.
MRIGA, Mindless and crippled woman elevated to four-fold divinity with Siveni Gray-Eyes.
SABELLIA, Mother goddess for the Rankan Empire.
SAVANKALA, Father god for the Rankan Empire.
SIVENI GRAY-EYES, Ilsigi goddess of wisdom, medicine and defense, now transformed into a four-fold diety.
SHIPRI, Mother goddess of the old Ilsigi kingdom.
STORMBRINGER, Primal stormgodlwargod. The pattern for all other such gods, he is not, himself, the object of organized worship.
JIHAN, Froth Daughter. His parthenogenic offspring, betrothed to the Stepson's mage, Randal.
The Beysib
SHUPANSEA; SHU-SEA, Head of the Beysib exiles in Sanctuary; mortal avatar of the Beysib mother goddess.
INTRODUCTION by Robert Lynn Asprin
For the first time in over a decade, Hakiem found himself seriously considering leaving his adopted home of Sanctuary.
Leaning out a window on one of the upper levels of the palace, he surveyed the town below as he thought-yet even this depressed him. He had always enjoyed walking the streets, first as a storyteller and later as advisor to the Beysib Empress. The town had always had a rough vibrancy, like the rich organic smell of a swamp, and he drank it in along with the rumors to assure himself of the city's survival. Now, however, he found that he rarely ventured down to the streets to savor it.
Not that he was afraid for his safety, mind you. Whether it was due to his long standing membership in the community, his well known neutrality and harmlessness, deference to his position as the Beysa's advisor, or a combination of all of these factors, his passage through town was never challenged. Rather, he often hid within the palace shadows and corridors to spare himself the heartache of witnessing what was happening to his beloved Sanctuary.
The spirit of the town he knew had been born of parents named Poverty and Desperation. While he had cursed the crime and filth along with the rest of the citizens, there had also been a secret pride in the inherent toughness of Sanctuary's inhabitants. Like the scrappy optimism of a bright-eyed gutter predator, there had been a certainty that the town would survive regardless of whatever hardships fate or the Rankan Empire could throw at it. Small moments of tenderness or self-sacrificing heroics shone all the brighter here, as uncon testable evidence of the strength of the human spiri
t.
Then two changes occurred almost simultaneously: the Beysib arrived and Ranke's Stormgod had either died or retreated into oblivion.
As Sanctuary's fortunes literally rose through the influx of Beysib wealth, the Empire's prestige and power had begun to wane-and the very nature of the city altered. Instead of small, vicious fights for survival, the town sank into selfish power squabbles which were proving more deadly and disruptive than anything the citizens had known before. Instead of desperation and poverty, the stench of greed hung over the town and Hakiem found it stifling.
Perhaps he should leave... soon, before the current disorder wiped out what few pleasant memories remained. If the new path of the town was fixed, he had no idea to ...
"You are very quiet. Wise One, for someone who earns his living with his nimble tongue."
Jolted from his reverie, Hakiem turned to find Shupansea, living avatar of Mother Bey and hereditary, if exiled, ruler of the Beysib Empire, regarding him with the delighted smile of a child who has caught his teacher in a spelling error.
"Your pardon, 0 Beysa. I did not hear you approach."
"There are no others about, Hakiem. Formalities between us are necessary only before unfriendly eyes. Besides, I doubt you would have heard an entire army approaching. Where is the habitual wariness you've tried so hard to instill in me?"
"I... I was thinking."
The smile disappeared from the Beysa's face to be replaced with an expression of concern as she laid a soft hand on her advisor's arm. "I know. You seem unhappy of late. Wise One. I've missed the talks we used to have. In fact, I've set aside time today specifically to seek you out and learn your mind. You've helped me so often in the past that gold alone cannot repay it. Tell me, what troubles you? Is there anything I can do to ease your concerns?"
Despite his depression, Hakiem was touched by the sincere concern of this young woman who had been raised to rule an empire and found herself in Sanctuary instead. While a part of him instinctively wanted to hide his feelings, he felt compelled to respond honestly.
"I fear for my town," he said, turning to gaze out the window once more. "The people have changed since the Beysib arrived.
"Not that I blame you," he amended hastily. "You had to go somewhere, and certainly your people have done everything possible to adapt to what I know is a very strange and often hostile environment to you.
"No. What has happened to my town was done by those who have lived here the longest. Oh, true enough, many of the changes were forced on them by the Rankan Empire and its gods-and I know that all things must change. Still, I fear the townspeople have lost the will and certainly the wisdom to survive the changes which must follow as surely as a storm follows lightning. Even now the new Rankan Emperor gathers troops to-"
He stopped abruptly as he realized the Beysa was laughing silently.
"I had not intended to be amusing," he said stiffly, anger flashing just below the surface. "While I know the problems of a mere storyteller pale to insignificance before-"
"Forgive me. Wise One. I meant no disrespect. It's just that you.... Please, let me be the teacher for once."
To Hakiem's surprise, she joined him at the window, leaning far over the sill until only the tips of her bare toes touched the cool floor.
"I fear you are too close to the problem," she said solemnly. "You know so much about Sanctuary and watch so many of its citizens that you have become overwhelmed by surface changes and are blind to the currents moving beneath. Let me tell you what I see as someone new to Sanctuary.
"You underestimate your town. Wise One. You love it so much that you think that no one else does-but that is incorrect. In the two years since my people arrived here, I have yet to meet a man, woman, or child of Sanctuary who did not, despite their very loud protests to the contrary, care as deeply for Sanctuary as you do, though they may show it differently. And I find, to my surprise, that their feelings are quite contagious."
She caught his surprised glance and laughed again. "Yes, I find that even with the blood of forty generations of Beysas and our island empire running in my veins, neither I nor my goddess has been immune to the lure of your town. At first it seemed to me to be vicious and barbaric, and it is, but there is a zest and vigor here that is invigorating and quite lacking in my own very civilized people. While you may fear that it has changed or lost, as one watching through new eyes, I can tell you that it is still there, and if anything it's stronger than when we arrived. Oh, they may squabble over their new wealth and power, but this is still Sanctuary. If threatened, the people here will fight or do whatever is necessary to keep that feeling of independence and freedom they have toiled so long for. The Beysib will be at their side, for my people and I are a part of it, just as you and yours are."
After that, she lapsed into silence and, side by side, they studied the town, living symbols of the old and the new Sanctuary. In their own thoughts, they each hoped desperately that she was right.
LADY OF FIRE by Diana L. Paxson
A peach tree grew in the courtyard below Lalo's stairs. It was only a little tree, but Gilla had covered its roots with straw to protect it from cold and dribbled precious water around it when the sun burned in the sky, caring for it as she cared for her children, and through war and wizard weather it had survived. But in the bitter spring of the Emperor's visit to Sanctuary the tree stood barren, with scarcely a leaflet on its twisted branches, and no blooms.
Lalo paused beside it on his way to the palace, wishing that he could breathe life into the tree as he had once breathed life into the work of his hands. But with the destruction of the Nisibisi Globes of Power everyone's magic seemed to have become as strengthless as Master Ahdio's cheap ale; Lalo dared not test his own. And even at his most powerful, he had only transformed symbols, not already living things.
He did not know if he could create anything anymore.
The building behind him was as silent as it had been in the dreadful days when Gilla was Roxane's captive. Latilla and Alfi were with Vanda at the palace. Wedemir was enviously watching the Stepsons maneuver themselves back into shape for campaign, and Gilla herself was at the Aphrodisia House, watching over Illyra's slow recovery from the wound she had taken in the riots when her daughter died.
If Illyra's body had been all that needed healing it would not have been so bad, Lalo thought. But it seemed to him that both women were nursing grief like a child. A pang twisted in his own belly at the memory-his middle son, Ganner, had been struck down, outside the goldsmith's shop where he was apprenticed, in that same climax of disorder that had killed Illyra's girl.
The town was quiet now, but it was the peace of exhaustion-more like a coma than the sleep of healing, and who could tell whether Sanctuary, or any of its people, would awaken to life again?
Lalo shivered and squinted at the sky. Even if it was useless, he ought to get up to the palace before the morning light was gone. As part of a sequence of political and religious negotiations which Lalo did not even try to understand, Molin Torchholder had commissioned him to paint an allegorical mural of the Wedding of the Storm God and Mother Bey. The work was as lifeless as everything else he did these days, but he was getting paid for it. And he did not know what else he could do.
"She was going to be pretty..." said Illyra in an oddly conversational tone. "My Lillis had golden hair like her father's, do you remember? I used to comb it and wonder how anything that pretty could have been born from me...."
"Yes," answered Gilla quietly. "I know." She had only seen Illyra's daughter a few times, but that did not matter now. "Ganner was the fairest of my children..." Her throat closed.
"How can you understand?" exclaimed the half-S'danzo suddenly. "You still have children! But my daughter is dead and they have taken my little boy away! There is nothing left for me."
"Your child was young," said Gilla heavily. "You do not know what she would have been. But all the labor of raising my boy to manhood is wasted. He will never give me grandc
hildren now. I have buried one infant and lost one from the womb; the boy that was born after Ganner died of a fever when he was six years old. I know the pain of losing them at all ages, Illyra, and I tell you truly that whatever age your child is taken from you is the worst. But I will bear no more. You are still young-you can have other children."
"What for?" Illyra said harshly. "So that this town can kill them, too?" She sank back upon the silken pillows with which the Aphrodisia House furnished even a sickroom and closed her eyes.
From somewhere on the floor below them came a mocking echo of music. The faded silk of the cushions glowed softly in the afternoon light, but to Gilla they seemed as colorless as everything else had been since that terrible day when so many died. Illyra was right-why give more hostages to malicious fate?
Someone scratched hesitantly at the door. When neither Gilla nor Illyra answered, it opened softly and Myrtis, a little thinner, but as impeccably painted and jeweled as ever, came in.
"How is she today?" She gestured toward the half-S'danzo, who lay with her eyes tightly closed.
Gilla got to her feet and moved heavily to meet the older woman-at least one assumed that Myrtis was older, and today she looked it, as if the spells by which Lythande had preserved her famous beauty were fading too. Molin Torch holder's gold had paid for Illyra's convalescence here, but the famous madam of the Aphrodisia House had given them more than a landlady's care.
"The scar is healing, but Illyra grows weaker," Gilla said in a low voice. "I think she does not want to live. And why should she?" she added bitterly.
For a moment Myrtis's eyes glittered. "Do you need a reason? Life is the only thing there is! After all she's survived, and you, too, are you going to give up and let them win?" Her gesture seemed to encompass everything outside the room. Then she drew back her hand as if surprised by her own intensity.