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i_read_whatSo last time, Donal had the nerve to be shocked that his wife, the Queen of the goddamn country, sent away his mistress when he was missing/possibly dead. I'm not really sure why he expected his wife to be okay with his mistress's presence anyway, but Donal is a very special guy.
Also he killed Osric of Atvia with his magic sword.
There's a content warning for this chapter, for the discussion of suicide.
So Donal flies back to Rowan's pavilion, and gets a good entry line: "Atvia lacks a lord." And now I'm wondering why the hell it took so long for someone to do what Donal did. It's not like he's the only Cheysuli with a bird lir after all. Sure, Osric probably wouldn't have accepted a duel with one. But they could just shank the guy. But then we wouldn't have had the magic sword save Donal's ass, I suppose.
Anyway, he gets an interesting reception:
“As you see me.” But Donal thought Evan did not see him clearly. There was a drawn tautness at the corners of his eyes and mouth, as if he spoke automatically with little thought for what he said. “Evan—what is it?”
Evan stepped aside and gestured limply for Donal to enter. His hand scraped against the fabric as he let the flap down again. “A messenger came early this morning, just at dawn, while you were still in Osric’s encampment.”
The pavilion was empty. The bedclothes on Rowan’s cot were rumpled. One cup of wine, half-filled, stood on the table next to a pile of maps. A fly buzzed around the rim.
Donal sat down on a stool, hunching a little; he lay the blade across his thighs and fingered the hilt with its rampant lion. “This message was for me?”
Yeah, dude. Evan totally looks upset because of a message for YOU.
It was for Evan, of course. King Rhodri is dead. To be fair, Donal is actually empathetic in response, asking if Evan needs to ride for Ellas immediately. No. Lachlan is King now, and he wants Evan to stay put. (With nicer words: "he says all of Ellas knows how I honored my father, and that now I must honor the wishes of her new High King". Aw.)
Anyway, Lachlan's heard of Carillon's death. He wants to preserve Homana out of Carillon's memory. Evan notes that he has a pragmatic concern too: if Osric took Homana, there's a good chance he'll turn to Ellas next. Fair enough. Anyway, Lachlan's sent five thousand of the Royal Ellasian guard to help. Lachlan is, yet again, the best dude.
Donal comes to a decision. A fucking stupid one.
Thinking deeply, Donal scratched at his forehead beneath the thick black hair that hung nearly into his eyes. “Five thousand men may be more than enough to swing this battle to a conclusion. Unless, of course, Osric’s death is enough. It may be that Lachlan’s gift is not necessary. But regardless, I must leave Rowan in charge of the Homanan troops, while you lead the Ellasians.” He frowned. “It would give me time to go up across the Bluetooth.”
“Still you will go?”
“I will. And I will bring Sorcha and the children home—home to Homana-Mujhar.”
Look, dude. I don't begrudge you wanting your mistress and kids with you. Okay, I kind of do, because you're being an idiot about it. But fine, yes, go get them. WHEN YOU ARE SURE YOU ARE DONE HERE.
You do not know if Osric's death will finish things!
You have been gone from your kingdom, your incredibly racist kingdom just twenty years out from a genocidal purge, for SIX MONTHS. You need to fucking take charge here. Or at least take charge at the capitol. You don't have time right now to go chasing after people who are SAFE.
Evan just notes that it might not be wise to have wife and "light woman" and bastards under the same roof.
But let's be honest here. When has Donal ever gave a shit about EITHER woman's comfort?
“I do not care.” Donal looked up from the sword. “I am not totally blind to Aislinn’s reasons for what she has done. But there are other factors I must consider. She is Electra’s daughter. It means I can never view her without suspicion—has she not given me enough reason for that?—because it may be that she has a measure of her jehana’s power. For all I know, the Solindish blood in her holds stronger than the Homanan.”
“She bears a child, Donal. Possibly a son, and heir to Homana.”
Donal laughed. “I have no intention of slaying her, Evan! Nor do I wish to beat her. I intend only to put Sorcha and the children where I know they will be safe.”
...safe. Next to the woman you THINK has Electra's power.
My god, you really are as stupid as Carillon.
Evan tries to talk sense into Donal. Aislinn's reaction now might be just jealousy. She may be calmer once she has her own heir, and she won't resent Sorcha or her children so much. Donal, dickishly, says that “For a man who has neither children nor cheysula, you know much about both.”
Evan points out that he has five sisters and fourteen nieces and nephews.
Donal, the idiot, says nevertheless, he will go and "tend to my meijha and children. Then I will see to Aislinn."
Seriously, dude. I'm not saying you have to like the girl. The whole mutual rape thing you have with her is disturbing as fuck. BUT SHE IS RULING YOUR KINGDOM.
(But if Donal did the SMART thing, next chapter wouldn't fucking happen.)
--
So anyway, Rowan ends up giving Donal a new sheath and belt. And Donal, is of course, incredibly grateful and sensitive.
Donal slid the blade home until the hilt clicked against the lip. He looked at Rowan. “Your workmanship?”
Rowan’s angular face was solemn. “Aye. My blood showing in me at last. I have the Cheysuli skill.”
Donal looked at him in surprise. “Then you are finally admitting openly to your heritage.”
Splotches of color formed in Rowan’s face, flushing the sunbronzing darker still so that the yellow of his eyes was emphasized. “I have not had to deny it for many years,” he said with a quiet dignity. “Not since I acknowledged the truth to Carillon.”
He will judge everything in his life by Carillon. Donal sighed and tried to summon what little he knew of tact. “I know you have never had a lir, but you are Cheysuli. You might have sought a clan instead of the Homanans when you were old enough to know the truth.”
Rowan shook his head. “I did not seek the Homanans, Donal. I was raised Homanan. Oh, aye…I knew what I was inside, but how could I fight Homanan habits that grew to be second nature? A child becomes what he is made…and I was made Homanan.”
Seriously dude? Are you seriously asking why Rowan didn't seek out a clan when a) YOU WERE ALL IN FUCKING HIDING DUE TO A GENOCIDE, and b) You've ALL been treating the guy like he's soulless.
Also, have you ever actually TALKED to the guy about his feelings about his heritage, because I remember you being a judgmental little shit instead.
Anyway, this leads to a valuable conversation. But also Donal fucking whining.
Donal frowned down at the rune-worked blade. “We are so different. The races. So—apart. We are different men. And I think you cannot be both.”
“You can.” Rowan smiled a little. “One day, you may see it. One day you may have to. You yourself are less Cheysuli than I am, if we are to speak of blood—and yet you are the one who claims the races are different.” He shook his head. “You do realize, of course, that even though Homana has a Cheysuli Mujhar once more—that the Cheysuli race will not last forever. We will be swallowed up by the truth of the prophecy.”
Donal doesn't like this because it reminds him of what Tynstar says. But Rowan may have a point. He asks Donal if he's considered that, when the goal of the prophecy is attained and the Firstborn live again, there may be little room for the Cheysuli.
Strahan's a monster, of course. None of the major Ihlini adversaries are going to have anything by way of complexity or depth until the last book. And even then, the character is hardly a true adversary. And because all of the Ihlini are rapist assholes, we never really have to ask if they have a point.
Not the Nazi blood purity shit, of course. But the Cheysuli are specifically trying to bring back their demigod ancestors. And well, do we know this will be a good idea? What are they like? This chosen one that they're supposed to birth, is he (because of course it's a he) going to be a good person? Or will he be a monster?
Will the Firstborn welcome their less powerful descendants/ancestors? Or will they reject them?
No one is asking these questions.
Anyway, Donal has certainty:
“There will always be Cheysuli in Homana.” Donal’s tone obliterated room for speculation. “Homanan-raised you may have been, but not Homanan-born. Did you not set the runes into the leather of this scabbard?”
“Some things a man never forgets.” Rowan looked at the devices he had tooled. “I remember—when I was very small—how my jehan used to write out the runes with a chunk of coal on a bleached deerskin. It fascinated me. I would sit for hours before the pavilion and watch his hand draw the runes—making magic. And the birthlines, when the shar tahl showed me mine.” He smiled reminiscently. “I remembered all the runes. So I pieced together the prophecy and the runes, and put it all into the leather.”
Donal watched the changes in Rowan’s face. In that instant he felt closer to the man than ever before. In that instant, Rowan was Cheysuli, and Donal could understand him. “What else do you remember?”
The smile fell away. “I remember the day the Mujhar’s men came across my family. How they slew them all, even my small rujholla. I remember it all very well, though for years I denied it.”
I love how Rowan has to be Cheysuli for Donal to even try to understand him. Because god forbid he learn about ALL the cultures that he's supposed to rule. I also love that Rowan has to put his own grief on display to be worthy of Donal's respect.
Interestingly, the people who raised Rowan DID know that he was Cheysuli. As mentioned before at some point, they were Ellasian immigrants who didn't believe in the qu'mahlin. Rowan calls them good people:
“But they were not Cheysuli.”
“Half of you is not,” Rowan retorted. “When I look at you, Donal, I see and hear a Cheysuli warrior, because that is what you desire to show to people. You have all the Cheysuli characteristics—including that prickly pride—and you certainly bear the stamp. But you also are Homanan, because of Alix. You should let it temper that pride. Do not become so Cheysuli you cannot understand the people you will rule.”
Fucking thank you.
Anyway, they move on to Donal's angst, because that's apparently more interesting than Rowan's trauma:
I've nothing but Cheysuli blood in my veins.”
“But you do not. There is Homanan as well. Else you would not be part of the prophecy.” Rowan sighed and shook his head. “You are what they have made you, your mother and your father. Duncan was all Cheysuli, and Alix—out of a wish to keep alive the husband she had lost—did what she could to make you Duncan come again. It is—not necessarily bad. I could think of worse warriors for you to emulate—including Finn.” Rowan flicked one hand in a silencing gesture as Donal moved to protest. “Finn was what the prophecy made him. He was what Carillon needed for many years. But—people change. They grow older, they mature. Carillon no longer needed him. And neither, now, do you.”
Donal shook his head in violent disagreement. “I need him badly, my su’fali. There is so much left for me to learn.”
“You will learn it. But first you must learn to acknowledge the Homanan in you as well as the Cheysuli.”
This is a good conversation. One that someone should have had with Donal a long time ago. I just wish Donal weren't such a whiny dick. (Also, I laugh at the idea of Duncan being the better person to emulate than Finn. That wasn't even true in Shapechangers, even BEFORE Finn got a personality transplant.)
Donal lifted the hilt. “Do I not wear this now? What Cheysuli has ever borne a sword—except, perhaps, for you?”
“It is a beginning,” Rowan agreed.
“It is more than a beginning,” Donal muttered. “It is an alteration of tradition.”
“Perhaps it is necessary.” Rowan smiled. “You are the first Cheysuli Mujhar to hold the Lion Throne in four hundred years, Donal. That is alteration.”
Why can't we have a book about Rowan? So anyway, Donal tells Rowan that there's a thing he would have him do: win the war.
Because again, Donal has to go deal with something that isn't his fucking kingdom.
--
So Donal rides North to the Bluetooth River. And he has an interesting reaction to it. This was where he'd been taken when he and Alix were kidnapped in Song of Homana. He'd escaped, when Alix couldn't. He'd left her behind. And he was understandably affected by it.
Anyway, he hires a ferry-master to take him across (since he'll be riding back with Sorcha and the children, presumably). Because Donal's race identity issues finally matter, for the first time ever, the guy recognizes him as a "halfling". This startles Donal.
“Halfling. Aye. Lookit yersel’. Yon color is Cheysuli, but ne’er I seen one dressit like ye. Leathers, they wear, and gold. Be ye only half, then?”
In shock, Donal realized the Homanan clothing Rowan had lent him after his escape from Strahan robbed him of identity. He had put off the torn and soiled leathers, replacing them with black soldiers’ breeches, linen shirt and rich brown velvet doublet, which hid the gold on his arms. His hair, left uncut for too long, hid his earring.
Donal asks what the man would do if he said he was entirely Cheysuli. The man is unbothered by the question. He's only curious. He makes conversation about Homana-Mujhar. The man's curious. He's never seen it. He asks about the Mujhar. This is interesting:
“And be he the man they do say he is?”
“Who—the Mujhar?” Donal shrugged. “Tell me what they say.”
The ferry-master pulled hard upon the ropes. His mouse-brown hair was long, clubbed back with a strip of leather. He wore rough woolen clothing and heavy boots. Brawny muscles played across his back and shoulders as he pulled against the current. “They do say Carillon chose hi’self a right’un. A man even the ’lini give a wide road to.”
Now this is interesting. Donal literally skipped out and got kidnapped before he ever got crowned. So who is talking him up. Donal doesn't ask that though, he asks about the Ihlini instead. Apparently this guy has ferried a few away. Donal is dickishly skeptical, but the ferryman points out that Ihlini don't fly any more than Donal does.
Which of course means Donal gets to brag about being able to fly.
The man asks why he's taking the ferry then. Then the conversation gets Robersoned into something contradictory:
Donal laughed. “I do not always fly. Besides, I will have company on the way back.” He studied the man a moment. “Do you fear me, ferry-master?”
“I hae heard of yon sorcery. Na’ feared to say I ’spect it.”
“Respect and fear are two different things.” Donal leaned idly against the rail. “You have a Cheysuli Mujhar. Do you fear him?”
“I do fear what it might be meanin’.” The ferry-master’s head rose and he met Donal’s eyes squarely. “The legends do say the shapechangers once held Homana, and gi’ her oop to men of my race. Now ye hae it back. ’Tis no wonder honest Homanans wonder what it all be meanin’.”
“There is no danger in it for any Homanan,” Donal told him. “The Mujhar means to keep peace in this realm.”
“That I’ll be havin’ to see fer mysel’, then.”
Suddenly, this guy who was fine with Donal's race, is nervous. Suddenly this guy who heard only good things about who Carillon picked, is concerned.
The guy's reactions are reasonable to the new circumstances, by the way. It just seems very inconsistent with the entire exchange.
Oh well, we move on.
So Donal gets to the Keep. It's understandably very well guarded, and Donal is embarrassed by his Homanan clothes. He sees "the slight trace of contempt" in the guard's eyes and thinks the dude doesn't see a warrior, rather a city-bred Cheysuli.
...you know, given that a city-bred Cheysuli of Donal's age would have had to survive almost ten years in the middle of a fucking PURGE, maybe that's not the insult Donal thinks it is. Also, you're a fucking King. Grow up.
But this dude is interesting. His name is Kaer and he's the first Cheysuli with a speaking line who isn't a member of Donal's family.
Donal just notes that the guy isn't giving him the ritual greeting of a warrior. God, shut up. Anyway, he introduces himself and says his business is with his meijha and children.
And of course, things change:
Kaer’s expression altered at once. Quickly he made the subtle hand gesture denoting acknowledgment of his rudeness; rarely did a warrior admit to such before another warrior, since Cheysuli were rarely rude, and so an apology was never spoken. The gesture was enough.
“My lord Mujhar.” He reached out to catch the stallion’s reins. “I will escort you to the clan-leader at once.”
Can you please stop whining now, Donal.
Anyway, he gets to meet the clan leader. The welcome makes him nostalgic, because he remembers Duncan, and then Finn, saying them. And fucking hell, he's still whining:
Cheysuli i’halla shansu,” he returned. “I am Donal, son of Duncan and Alix. My meijha, Sorcha, is here.”
The yellow eyes flickered, then assessed him shrewdly, though the warrior’s face remained bland. With a flash of insight Donal realized he would be judged more harshly by his own race than by any Homanan. The Cheysuli had waited for four centuries for one of their own to regain the Lion.
Now one has, but they do not know me as well as they would like to.
The dude's name is Tarn. WOW. TWO named Cheysuli who aren't main characters. He invites DOnal to sit and gives him some honey brew. Tarn asks about the war against Osric. Donal updates him. He doesn't ask why Tarn didn't send warriors. It's "not the proper time".
...isn't it? Look, you are supposed to be the king, right?
They also discuss Tynstar and Strahan, and how Valgaard is likely to be occupied soon. And then Tarn gets to HIS point:
“We have heard nothing of that.” Tarn set down his cup. “You have come to see your kin.”
Donal was relieved the casual talk was ended. “Aye. And to thank you for taking them in. But now I shall have them come home with me.”
“I—think not. Not all of them.” Tarn’s voice was steady. “Donal—it is unhappy news I bear. Shocking news, as well. I wish there were another way—” He broke off, then said it plainly. “Sorcha has taken her life.”
...and there we go.
Poor Sorcha. She got all of one scene to define herself. And mostly it's just being dreadfully unhappy. She's an anti-Homanan extremist, and it's hard to blame her entirely for that. But at the same time, we never really got a chance to know Sorcha as a person. Donal talked ABOUT her, treated her like a refuge he could run to whenever things got hard in Homana-Mujhar. But we never got to know HER.
And it's particularly annoying because, not to excuse her actions, Aislinn IS a strong and vivid character. Her dignity, immaturity, fear and willpower are all very clearly defined. She's a person to us in a way that Sorcha never really got a chance to be.
And it's a shame about that, because if there was any way that I could sympathize with Donal, the guy who has literally all the power in both relationships, who made both women dreadfully unhappy, and who had known about his impending marriage since he was eight years old, would be if I understood what he truly loved about Sorcha.
But I don't. And it's sad.
Donal is horrified, of course. Suicide, when it isn't the passive suicide that comes when one's lir is dead, is a massive Cheysuli taboo. She's given up the afterworld. Whatever that is. This is literally the first time we're hearing about ANY after death beliefs from any of the cultures in the book.
But I do sympathize here. Donal tries to understand:
“But—why? Why would Sorcha do such a thing?”
Still Tarn avoided his eyes. “The women came and spoke to me and told me what Sorcha said before she did the unspeakable. It was—grief and anger and loss, the loss of the warrior with whom she had shared her life.”
“She had not lost me—”
“It was anger, much anger; she told them the Queen had sent her here. Banished your meijha, to keep her from your sight.” Tarn’s voice was carefully modulated; he would not be judge or arbiter, merely a spokesman for what had happened. “She told them she had lost you to the Homanans and to Homana’s queen; that you had turned your back on all your Cheysuli heritage.”
So understandably, Donal is not reacting well to this:
“Sorcha was—half-mad with grief and anger. I spoke to her when she came. Donal—she could not face life without you. Sharing you was bad enough, she said; she could not bear losing you altogether. Not to the Homanans. And so she emptied her veins of blood.”
Donal stared blindly at the damp liquor stain on his breeches. She said she wished to, once. To be rid of the Homanan taint…Oh gods—Aislinn is no better than her jehana. He shut his eyes. What am I to do?
“I am sorry.” Tarn said it gently, more gently than Donal expected; Sorcha was not deserving of compassion to a clan-leader’s way of thinking. She had done what was never to be done.
a) Hey, now. Aislinn sent Sorcha away. She didn't murder her. Sorcha very obviously had a lot of issues with her own ancestry that she'd never addressed. Be mad at Aislinn, fine, but be mad at what she did, not what she had no way of predicting.
b) Tarn is interesting though. Up until now, we'd only met two clan-leaders and neither were terribly inclined toward empathy. It makes me wonder how much of what we assume is "Cheysuli culture" is just one family's traits.
So Donal wants to see his children. Tarn has them brought in:
Ian came in silently and conducted himself with grave correctness, waiting for encouragement before he moved closer yet. He was four now, and Cheysuli pride was already apparent in every line of his slender body, from the lifted chin to the squared shoulders. He wore winter jerkin and leggings.
Oh, Ian. This is only going to be the start of a massive trauma conga-line dear boy. But that's a matter for the next book.
Isolde is brought out too. She's a year old now. Donal mourns with his children, feeling like a child himself. But his mother, his mistress and Finn are dead. There's no one to comfort him.
Donal is at his best when he acts like a father:
Donal drew in a ragged breath. He looked over Isolde’s head to the face of his son and saw a matching conflict there. Ian was frightened, confused, lost. Badly in need of something he could easily comprehend.
No different from myself… “She loved you.” Donal knew perfectly well he broke Cheysuli custom by even discussing the emotion, but he did not care. Things were different now; he wore a sword at his side. “She loved you—and so do I.”
Tears welled up in the wide yellow eyes. Trembling, biting his lower lip, Ian came forward and knelt at his father’s side. His right hand hesitantly twined itself into the wide sword belt at Donal’s waist; the other hastily wiped the fallen tears away.
“Jehan,” he began in a small, soft voice, “where do we go now?”
This part is really emotional and affecting, so of course Roberson has to ruin it:
Donal stared into the beseeching eyes of his son and realized with a sickening wrench that a Cheysuli keep would never again be home to any of his children. His line, and theirs, would come to know only the walled palaces of kings.
Boo fucking Hoo. I'm SORRY dude, but this isn't the time for your king angst.
But Roberson does manage to save the scene with this horrible (in the right way) ending:
Ian’s fingers tightened on the sword belt. “Will she come back?” he whispered. “Jehana?”
“No,” Donal told him. “Jehana will never come back.”
Silently, his son’s face crumpled, and he began to cry.
Oh, honey.
There's no real follow up to a four year old crying for his mother, so thankfully, we end the chapter here.
Also he killed Osric of Atvia with his magic sword.
There's a content warning for this chapter, for the discussion of suicide.
So Donal flies back to Rowan's pavilion, and gets a good entry line: "Atvia lacks a lord." And now I'm wondering why the hell it took so long for someone to do what Donal did. It's not like he's the only Cheysuli with a bird lir after all. Sure, Osric probably wouldn't have accepted a duel with one. But they could just shank the guy. But then we wouldn't have had the magic sword save Donal's ass, I suppose.
Anyway, he gets an interesting reception:
“As you see me.” But Donal thought Evan did not see him clearly. There was a drawn tautness at the corners of his eyes and mouth, as if he spoke automatically with little thought for what he said. “Evan—what is it?”
Evan stepped aside and gestured limply for Donal to enter. His hand scraped against the fabric as he let the flap down again. “A messenger came early this morning, just at dawn, while you were still in Osric’s encampment.”
The pavilion was empty. The bedclothes on Rowan’s cot were rumpled. One cup of wine, half-filled, stood on the table next to a pile of maps. A fly buzzed around the rim.
Donal sat down on a stool, hunching a little; he lay the blade across his thighs and fingered the hilt with its rampant lion. “This message was for me?”
Yeah, dude. Evan totally looks upset because of a message for YOU.
It was for Evan, of course. King Rhodri is dead. To be fair, Donal is actually empathetic in response, asking if Evan needs to ride for Ellas immediately. No. Lachlan is King now, and he wants Evan to stay put. (With nicer words: "he says all of Ellas knows how I honored my father, and that now I must honor the wishes of her new High King". Aw.)
Anyway, Lachlan's heard of Carillon's death. He wants to preserve Homana out of Carillon's memory. Evan notes that he has a pragmatic concern too: if Osric took Homana, there's a good chance he'll turn to Ellas next. Fair enough. Anyway, Lachlan's sent five thousand of the Royal Ellasian guard to help. Lachlan is, yet again, the best dude.
Donal comes to a decision. A fucking stupid one.
Thinking deeply, Donal scratched at his forehead beneath the thick black hair that hung nearly into his eyes. “Five thousand men may be more than enough to swing this battle to a conclusion. Unless, of course, Osric’s death is enough. It may be that Lachlan’s gift is not necessary. But regardless, I must leave Rowan in charge of the Homanan troops, while you lead the Ellasians.” He frowned. “It would give me time to go up across the Bluetooth.”
“Still you will go?”
“I will. And I will bring Sorcha and the children home—home to Homana-Mujhar.”
Look, dude. I don't begrudge you wanting your mistress and kids with you. Okay, I kind of do, because you're being an idiot about it. But fine, yes, go get them. WHEN YOU ARE SURE YOU ARE DONE HERE.
You do not know if Osric's death will finish things!
You have been gone from your kingdom, your incredibly racist kingdom just twenty years out from a genocidal purge, for SIX MONTHS. You need to fucking take charge here. Or at least take charge at the capitol. You don't have time right now to go chasing after people who are SAFE.
Evan just notes that it might not be wise to have wife and "light woman" and bastards under the same roof.
But let's be honest here. When has Donal ever gave a shit about EITHER woman's comfort?
“I do not care.” Donal looked up from the sword. “I am not totally blind to Aislinn’s reasons for what she has done. But there are other factors I must consider. She is Electra’s daughter. It means I can never view her without suspicion—has she not given me enough reason for that?—because it may be that she has a measure of her jehana’s power. For all I know, the Solindish blood in her holds stronger than the Homanan.”
“She bears a child, Donal. Possibly a son, and heir to Homana.”
Donal laughed. “I have no intention of slaying her, Evan! Nor do I wish to beat her. I intend only to put Sorcha and the children where I know they will be safe.”
...safe. Next to the woman you THINK has Electra's power.
My god, you really are as stupid as Carillon.
Evan tries to talk sense into Donal. Aislinn's reaction now might be just jealousy. She may be calmer once she has her own heir, and she won't resent Sorcha or her children so much. Donal, dickishly, says that “For a man who has neither children nor cheysula, you know much about both.”
Evan points out that he has five sisters and fourteen nieces and nephews.
Donal, the idiot, says nevertheless, he will go and "tend to my meijha and children. Then I will see to Aislinn."
Seriously, dude. I'm not saying you have to like the girl. The whole mutual rape thing you have with her is disturbing as fuck. BUT SHE IS RULING YOUR KINGDOM.
(But if Donal did the SMART thing, next chapter wouldn't fucking happen.)
--
So anyway, Rowan ends up giving Donal a new sheath and belt. And Donal, is of course, incredibly grateful and sensitive.
Donal slid the blade home until the hilt clicked against the lip. He looked at Rowan. “Your workmanship?”
Rowan’s angular face was solemn. “Aye. My blood showing in me at last. I have the Cheysuli skill.”
Donal looked at him in surprise. “Then you are finally admitting openly to your heritage.”
Splotches of color formed in Rowan’s face, flushing the sunbronzing darker still so that the yellow of his eyes was emphasized. “I have not had to deny it for many years,” he said with a quiet dignity. “Not since I acknowledged the truth to Carillon.”
He will judge everything in his life by Carillon. Donal sighed and tried to summon what little he knew of tact. “I know you have never had a lir, but you are Cheysuli. You might have sought a clan instead of the Homanans when you were old enough to know the truth.”
Rowan shook his head. “I did not seek the Homanans, Donal. I was raised Homanan. Oh, aye…I knew what I was inside, but how could I fight Homanan habits that grew to be second nature? A child becomes what he is made…and I was made Homanan.”
Seriously dude? Are you seriously asking why Rowan didn't seek out a clan when a) YOU WERE ALL IN FUCKING HIDING DUE TO A GENOCIDE, and b) You've ALL been treating the guy like he's soulless.
Also, have you ever actually TALKED to the guy about his feelings about his heritage, because I remember you being a judgmental little shit instead.
Anyway, this leads to a valuable conversation. But also Donal fucking whining.
Donal frowned down at the rune-worked blade. “We are so different. The races. So—apart. We are different men. And I think you cannot be both.”
“You can.” Rowan smiled a little. “One day, you may see it. One day you may have to. You yourself are less Cheysuli than I am, if we are to speak of blood—and yet you are the one who claims the races are different.” He shook his head. “You do realize, of course, that even though Homana has a Cheysuli Mujhar once more—that the Cheysuli race will not last forever. We will be swallowed up by the truth of the prophecy.”
Donal doesn't like this because it reminds him of what Tynstar says. But Rowan may have a point. He asks Donal if he's considered that, when the goal of the prophecy is attained and the Firstborn live again, there may be little room for the Cheysuli.
Strahan's a monster, of course. None of the major Ihlini adversaries are going to have anything by way of complexity or depth until the last book. And even then, the character is hardly a true adversary. And because all of the Ihlini are rapist assholes, we never really have to ask if they have a point.
Not the Nazi blood purity shit, of course. But the Cheysuli are specifically trying to bring back their demigod ancestors. And well, do we know this will be a good idea? What are they like? This chosen one that they're supposed to birth, is he (because of course it's a he) going to be a good person? Or will he be a monster?
Will the Firstborn welcome their less powerful descendants/ancestors? Or will they reject them?
No one is asking these questions.
Anyway, Donal has certainty:
“There will always be Cheysuli in Homana.” Donal’s tone obliterated room for speculation. “Homanan-raised you may have been, but not Homanan-born. Did you not set the runes into the leather of this scabbard?”
“Some things a man never forgets.” Rowan looked at the devices he had tooled. “I remember—when I was very small—how my jehan used to write out the runes with a chunk of coal on a bleached deerskin. It fascinated me. I would sit for hours before the pavilion and watch his hand draw the runes—making magic. And the birthlines, when the shar tahl showed me mine.” He smiled reminiscently. “I remembered all the runes. So I pieced together the prophecy and the runes, and put it all into the leather.”
Donal watched the changes in Rowan’s face. In that instant he felt closer to the man than ever before. In that instant, Rowan was Cheysuli, and Donal could understand him. “What else do you remember?”
The smile fell away. “I remember the day the Mujhar’s men came across my family. How they slew them all, even my small rujholla. I remember it all very well, though for years I denied it.”
I love how Rowan has to be Cheysuli for Donal to even try to understand him. Because god forbid he learn about ALL the cultures that he's supposed to rule. I also love that Rowan has to put his own grief on display to be worthy of Donal's respect.
Interestingly, the people who raised Rowan DID know that he was Cheysuli. As mentioned before at some point, they were Ellasian immigrants who didn't believe in the qu'mahlin. Rowan calls them good people:
“But they were not Cheysuli.”
“Half of you is not,” Rowan retorted. “When I look at you, Donal, I see and hear a Cheysuli warrior, because that is what you desire to show to people. You have all the Cheysuli characteristics—including that prickly pride—and you certainly bear the stamp. But you also are Homanan, because of Alix. You should let it temper that pride. Do not become so Cheysuli you cannot understand the people you will rule.”
Fucking thank you.
Anyway, they move on to Donal's angst, because that's apparently more interesting than Rowan's trauma:
I've nothing but Cheysuli blood in my veins.”
“But you do not. There is Homanan as well. Else you would not be part of the prophecy.” Rowan sighed and shook his head. “You are what they have made you, your mother and your father. Duncan was all Cheysuli, and Alix—out of a wish to keep alive the husband she had lost—did what she could to make you Duncan come again. It is—not necessarily bad. I could think of worse warriors for you to emulate—including Finn.” Rowan flicked one hand in a silencing gesture as Donal moved to protest. “Finn was what the prophecy made him. He was what Carillon needed for many years. But—people change. They grow older, they mature. Carillon no longer needed him. And neither, now, do you.”
Donal shook his head in violent disagreement. “I need him badly, my su’fali. There is so much left for me to learn.”
“You will learn it. But first you must learn to acknowledge the Homanan in you as well as the Cheysuli.”
This is a good conversation. One that someone should have had with Donal a long time ago. I just wish Donal weren't such a whiny dick. (Also, I laugh at the idea of Duncan being the better person to emulate than Finn. That wasn't even true in Shapechangers, even BEFORE Finn got a personality transplant.)
Donal lifted the hilt. “Do I not wear this now? What Cheysuli has ever borne a sword—except, perhaps, for you?”
“It is a beginning,” Rowan agreed.
“It is more than a beginning,” Donal muttered. “It is an alteration of tradition.”
“Perhaps it is necessary.” Rowan smiled. “You are the first Cheysuli Mujhar to hold the Lion Throne in four hundred years, Donal. That is alteration.”
Why can't we have a book about Rowan? So anyway, Donal tells Rowan that there's a thing he would have him do: win the war.
Because again, Donal has to go deal with something that isn't his fucking kingdom.
--
So Donal rides North to the Bluetooth River. And he has an interesting reaction to it. This was where he'd been taken when he and Alix were kidnapped in Song of Homana. He'd escaped, when Alix couldn't. He'd left her behind. And he was understandably affected by it.
Anyway, he hires a ferry-master to take him across (since he'll be riding back with Sorcha and the children, presumably). Because Donal's race identity issues finally matter, for the first time ever, the guy recognizes him as a "halfling". This startles Donal.
“Halfling. Aye. Lookit yersel’. Yon color is Cheysuli, but ne’er I seen one dressit like ye. Leathers, they wear, and gold. Be ye only half, then?”
In shock, Donal realized the Homanan clothing Rowan had lent him after his escape from Strahan robbed him of identity. He had put off the torn and soiled leathers, replacing them with black soldiers’ breeches, linen shirt and rich brown velvet doublet, which hid the gold on his arms. His hair, left uncut for too long, hid his earring.
Donal asks what the man would do if he said he was entirely Cheysuli. The man is unbothered by the question. He's only curious. He makes conversation about Homana-Mujhar. The man's curious. He's never seen it. He asks about the Mujhar. This is interesting:
“And be he the man they do say he is?”
“Who—the Mujhar?” Donal shrugged. “Tell me what they say.”
The ferry-master pulled hard upon the ropes. His mouse-brown hair was long, clubbed back with a strip of leather. He wore rough woolen clothing and heavy boots. Brawny muscles played across his back and shoulders as he pulled against the current. “They do say Carillon chose hi’self a right’un. A man even the ’lini give a wide road to.”
Now this is interesting. Donal literally skipped out and got kidnapped before he ever got crowned. So who is talking him up. Donal doesn't ask that though, he asks about the Ihlini instead. Apparently this guy has ferried a few away. Donal is dickishly skeptical, but the ferryman points out that Ihlini don't fly any more than Donal does.
Which of course means Donal gets to brag about being able to fly.
The man asks why he's taking the ferry then. Then the conversation gets Robersoned into something contradictory:
Donal laughed. “I do not always fly. Besides, I will have company on the way back.” He studied the man a moment. “Do you fear me, ferry-master?”
“I hae heard of yon sorcery. Na’ feared to say I ’spect it.”
“Respect and fear are two different things.” Donal leaned idly against the rail. “You have a Cheysuli Mujhar. Do you fear him?”
“I do fear what it might be meanin’.” The ferry-master’s head rose and he met Donal’s eyes squarely. “The legends do say the shapechangers once held Homana, and gi’ her oop to men of my race. Now ye hae it back. ’Tis no wonder honest Homanans wonder what it all be meanin’.”
“There is no danger in it for any Homanan,” Donal told him. “The Mujhar means to keep peace in this realm.”
“That I’ll be havin’ to see fer mysel’, then.”
Suddenly, this guy who was fine with Donal's race, is nervous. Suddenly this guy who heard only good things about who Carillon picked, is concerned.
The guy's reactions are reasonable to the new circumstances, by the way. It just seems very inconsistent with the entire exchange.
Oh well, we move on.
So Donal gets to the Keep. It's understandably very well guarded, and Donal is embarrassed by his Homanan clothes. He sees "the slight trace of contempt" in the guard's eyes and thinks the dude doesn't see a warrior, rather a city-bred Cheysuli.
...you know, given that a city-bred Cheysuli of Donal's age would have had to survive almost ten years in the middle of a fucking PURGE, maybe that's not the insult Donal thinks it is. Also, you're a fucking King. Grow up.
But this dude is interesting. His name is Kaer and he's the first Cheysuli with a speaking line who isn't a member of Donal's family.
Donal just notes that the guy isn't giving him the ritual greeting of a warrior. God, shut up. Anyway, he introduces himself and says his business is with his meijha and children.
And of course, things change:
Kaer’s expression altered at once. Quickly he made the subtle hand gesture denoting acknowledgment of his rudeness; rarely did a warrior admit to such before another warrior, since Cheysuli were rarely rude, and so an apology was never spoken. The gesture was enough.
“My lord Mujhar.” He reached out to catch the stallion’s reins. “I will escort you to the clan-leader at once.”
Can you please stop whining now, Donal.
Anyway, he gets to meet the clan leader. The welcome makes him nostalgic, because he remembers Duncan, and then Finn, saying them. And fucking hell, he's still whining:
Cheysuli i’halla shansu,” he returned. “I am Donal, son of Duncan and Alix. My meijha, Sorcha, is here.”
The yellow eyes flickered, then assessed him shrewdly, though the warrior’s face remained bland. With a flash of insight Donal realized he would be judged more harshly by his own race than by any Homanan. The Cheysuli had waited for four centuries for one of their own to regain the Lion.
Now one has, but they do not know me as well as they would like to.
The dude's name is Tarn. WOW. TWO named Cheysuli who aren't main characters. He invites DOnal to sit and gives him some honey brew. Tarn asks about the war against Osric. Donal updates him. He doesn't ask why Tarn didn't send warriors. It's "not the proper time".
...isn't it? Look, you are supposed to be the king, right?
They also discuss Tynstar and Strahan, and how Valgaard is likely to be occupied soon. And then Tarn gets to HIS point:
“We have heard nothing of that.” Tarn set down his cup. “You have come to see your kin.”
Donal was relieved the casual talk was ended. “Aye. And to thank you for taking them in. But now I shall have them come home with me.”
“I—think not. Not all of them.” Tarn’s voice was steady. “Donal—it is unhappy news I bear. Shocking news, as well. I wish there were another way—” He broke off, then said it plainly. “Sorcha has taken her life.”
...and there we go.
Poor Sorcha. She got all of one scene to define herself. And mostly it's just being dreadfully unhappy. She's an anti-Homanan extremist, and it's hard to blame her entirely for that. But at the same time, we never really got a chance to know Sorcha as a person. Donal talked ABOUT her, treated her like a refuge he could run to whenever things got hard in Homana-Mujhar. But we never got to know HER.
And it's particularly annoying because, not to excuse her actions, Aislinn IS a strong and vivid character. Her dignity, immaturity, fear and willpower are all very clearly defined. She's a person to us in a way that Sorcha never really got a chance to be.
And it's a shame about that, because if there was any way that I could sympathize with Donal, the guy who has literally all the power in both relationships, who made both women dreadfully unhappy, and who had known about his impending marriage since he was eight years old, would be if I understood what he truly loved about Sorcha.
But I don't. And it's sad.
Donal is horrified, of course. Suicide, when it isn't the passive suicide that comes when one's lir is dead, is a massive Cheysuli taboo. She's given up the afterworld. Whatever that is. This is literally the first time we're hearing about ANY after death beliefs from any of the cultures in the book.
But I do sympathize here. Donal tries to understand:
“But—why? Why would Sorcha do such a thing?”
Still Tarn avoided his eyes. “The women came and spoke to me and told me what Sorcha said before she did the unspeakable. It was—grief and anger and loss, the loss of the warrior with whom she had shared her life.”
“She had not lost me—”
“It was anger, much anger; she told them the Queen had sent her here. Banished your meijha, to keep her from your sight.” Tarn’s voice was carefully modulated; he would not be judge or arbiter, merely a spokesman for what had happened. “She told them she had lost you to the Homanans and to Homana’s queen; that you had turned your back on all your Cheysuli heritage.”
So understandably, Donal is not reacting well to this:
“Sorcha was—half-mad with grief and anger. I spoke to her when she came. Donal—she could not face life without you. Sharing you was bad enough, she said; she could not bear losing you altogether. Not to the Homanans. And so she emptied her veins of blood.”
Donal stared blindly at the damp liquor stain on his breeches. She said she wished to, once. To be rid of the Homanan taint…Oh gods—Aislinn is no better than her jehana. He shut his eyes. What am I to do?
“I am sorry.” Tarn said it gently, more gently than Donal expected; Sorcha was not deserving of compassion to a clan-leader’s way of thinking. She had done what was never to be done.
a) Hey, now. Aislinn sent Sorcha away. She didn't murder her. Sorcha very obviously had a lot of issues with her own ancestry that she'd never addressed. Be mad at Aislinn, fine, but be mad at what she did, not what she had no way of predicting.
b) Tarn is interesting though. Up until now, we'd only met two clan-leaders and neither were terribly inclined toward empathy. It makes me wonder how much of what we assume is "Cheysuli culture" is just one family's traits.
So Donal wants to see his children. Tarn has them brought in:
Ian came in silently and conducted himself with grave correctness, waiting for encouragement before he moved closer yet. He was four now, and Cheysuli pride was already apparent in every line of his slender body, from the lifted chin to the squared shoulders. He wore winter jerkin and leggings.
Oh, Ian. This is only going to be the start of a massive trauma conga-line dear boy. But that's a matter for the next book.
Isolde is brought out too. She's a year old now. Donal mourns with his children, feeling like a child himself. But his mother, his mistress and Finn are dead. There's no one to comfort him.
Donal is at his best when he acts like a father:
Donal drew in a ragged breath. He looked over Isolde’s head to the face of his son and saw a matching conflict there. Ian was frightened, confused, lost. Badly in need of something he could easily comprehend.
No different from myself… “She loved you.” Donal knew perfectly well he broke Cheysuli custom by even discussing the emotion, but he did not care. Things were different now; he wore a sword at his side. “She loved you—and so do I.”
Tears welled up in the wide yellow eyes. Trembling, biting his lower lip, Ian came forward and knelt at his father’s side. His right hand hesitantly twined itself into the wide sword belt at Donal’s waist; the other hastily wiped the fallen tears away.
“Jehan,” he began in a small, soft voice, “where do we go now?”
This part is really emotional and affecting, so of course Roberson has to ruin it:
Donal stared into the beseeching eyes of his son and realized with a sickening wrench that a Cheysuli keep would never again be home to any of his children. His line, and theirs, would come to know only the walled palaces of kings.
Boo fucking Hoo. I'm SORRY dude, but this isn't the time for your king angst.
But Roberson does manage to save the scene with this horrible (in the right way) ending:
Ian’s fingers tightened on the sword belt. “Will she come back?” he whispered. “Jehana?”
“No,” Donal told him. “Jehana will never come back.”
Silently, his son’s face crumpled, and he began to cry.
Oh, honey.
There's no real follow up to a four year old crying for his mother, so thankfully, we end the chapter here.
no subject
Date: 2021-10-20 04:48 pm (UTC)I won't make the obvious anachronism joke.
Evan just notes that it might not be wise to have wife and "light woman" and bastards under the same roof.
Thank you, Evan. Also, Donal is a fool. He thinks everything is over with Osric's death. Yeah, fool me once with Tynstar and Electra at once, shame on you. Fool me twice with Osric before the book reaches last chapters and with
Gristol MalikStrahan alive, shame on me.Which of course means Donal gets to brag about being able to fly.
Donal, you raped your wife and now feel all entitled to have a mistress. I want to test your flying abilities by throwing you out of a window.
Poor Sorcha. She got all of one scene to define herself. And mostly it's just being dreadfully unhappy. She's an anti-Homanan extremist, and it's hard to blame her entirely for that. But at the same time, we never really got a chance to know Sorcha as a person. Donal talked ABOUT her, treated her like a refuge he could run to whenever things got hard in Homana-Mujhar. But we never got to know HER.
So, apparently, Aislinn drove a woman to suicide, Donal's mistress, though she did so without knowing. Honestly, Roberson shouldn't be so mean to her own gender. Right now, she used one of the worst tropes for me: fridging.
Also, it's sad that for a woman to grow a spine in this series, she has to act like an ass. Electra is Tynstar's lackey, and Aislinn believes in karmic rape.
But poor Ian.
no subject
Date: 2021-10-21 04:35 am (UTC)If I get to Track of the White Wolf (Book 4), we'll be saying "Poor Ian" a lot. No one has it particularly easy in this series, but Ian's one of the ones who has it the worst, I think.
Edited to add: We'll learn more about the Aislinn vs. Sorcha thing next chapter and, this probably won't surprise you, but it's possibly even more misogynistic than it seems.
no subject
Date: 2021-10-25 10:56 am (UTC)So, I will show you a chapter where I don't.
Also, she will spork next chapter with me.
no subject
Date: 2021-10-25 08:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-12-04 07:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2021-12-04 08:35 pm (UTC)