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So last time, Ceinn tried to commit high treason and Niall FINALLY got what he'd wanted for the whole damn book. I'm glad for him, because I genuinely do like him, but I'm also glad because maybe he'll finally stop whining about it.
As you may recall, we last left off with Niall asking Serri to teach him how to shapeshift. And indeed, this chapter starts with a lot of babble about shapeshifting. Like this, for example:
It is a trade, the ability to put off one form and wear another. A transience unlimited by beginning and end, simply a time of being; when I was a wolf I was a wolf, not a man, not Niall; not even the Prince of Homana. Not even a Cheysuli. Just—a wolf, and bound by such freedom as an unblessed man cannot possibly comprehend. Not even a Cheysuli. Because even a warrior, in human form, lacks the perfection of the animal he becomes when he trades one shape for the other. Even a Cheysuli is less than he can be.
I began to understand. And I began to see why my race is so arrogant, so insular, so certain of their place within the tapestry of the gods. Our colors are brighter. We are the warp and weft of Homana, and all the patterns besides. Pick us from that pattern and the shape of the dream collapses. The shape of life collapses.
As Homana herself would collapse.
Well, I'm glad he's having fun. Anyway, he now appreciates the "responsibility" that Donal has: trying to merge Homana and the Cheysuli into a "harmonious tapestry". And it occurs to me that the idea/imagery of the tapestry is actually a pretty major part of the second half of the series. It's weird that it's only come up now.
Niall is still pretty dramatic though:
I learned that to be lirless and trapped forever in the shape of a man is a torture of the kind no Cheysuli should ever experience.
I thought of myself as I had been: lirless, unblessed, a shadow of a man, lacking a soul altogether.
I guess this does bring a little context to the general Cheysuli reaction to Rowan. If this is what having a lir feels like, then I suppose the revulsion makes sense. But Niall is a much better dude than his father:
And I thought of Rowan. And began to respect him as I had never fully respected him, knowing only I had resented him as I had resented myself, because we neither of us claimed a lir.
Niall is a pretty self centered dude, but as we saw, he was never rude to Rowan. And I appreciate that now having a lir has made him respect Rowan more. Rowan will never have what Niall has now, and that's worth appreciating.
It's interesting also because we're told that Serri doesn't just teach Niall how to shapechange, but about the "responsibilities inherent in the ability." He's not talking about peeping tom ethics, though, but the need to "retain the comprehension of self". Apparently, there's actually a risk that a man in lirshape who is too angry can become too careless, and lose himself to madness.
It's an interesting thought. One thing that came up a few times in Song of Homana was Carillon's perspective of Finn's change, and the idea that Finn might lose himself. Finn's predominate trait is his anger, after all. Was there a legitimate risk there after all?
We didn't see anything similar with Donal, but Donal had (with some notable exceptions) grown up reasonably supported and protected. It's not that he's never had trauma, but he's also had a loving mother, a supportive uncle, and a steady, stable and healthy clan around him.
I'm also intrigued by the dynamic between Niall and Serri. Do all lir take on this kind of teacher role, or does this develop because Niall is old enough to ask adult questions and understand adult explanations?
I like this a lot:
I wondered aloud: would it be so bad to be an animal forever?
And Serri had answered that a man, born a man, was intended to be a man; the gods, seeing how unbalanced the scale had become, and why, would take their retribution.
And I had said: Our gods are not retributive; that is a thing of Asar-Suti, the Seker, the god of the netherworld.
And he had answered: It is a thing of all gods, high and low, when their children go astray.
It's a shame really that we haven't had that close a look at lir bonds in prior books. We did get a reasonably close look at Cai and Storr in Shapechangers, as I recall. Of the two, Storr had a much stronger defined presence: feeling much older and debatably wiser than Finn himself. Carillon, of course, couldn't speak to lir at all, so we didn't get much insight there. And maybe it's because Donal had to be special and get two lir, but I didn't get a strong impression of Taj or Lorn either.
I feel like Lorn had a greater appreciation for creature comforts and ceremony, but I might be wrong about that. I think we can add the lack of lir definition to the list of missed opportunities in Legacy of the Sword.
But Niall's relationship with Serri is really interesting. Niall is probably the most cerebral of the leads we've had so far. He's educated and eloquent and now he's got a conversation partner willign to indulge in these kind of conversations with him. (Ian strikes me as a practical sort, less inclined to this kind of philosophy.)
Niall's got other thoughts too. He wonders about being a Firstborn, with more power than either Ihlini or Cheysuli, but also "carry[ing] the seeds of self-destruction".
That's interesting too, because it's the first acknowledgment we've had that MAYBE the Firstborn aren't entirely perfect. Maybe they no longer exist for a reason.
I thought of Ceinn and his fellow a’saii, harking back to the days of the Firstborn and desiring the power again. Their desire was not wrong, precisely—the prophecy, fulfilled, would give us that power again, with added stability gained from the bloodlines merged—but their method of attaining the power was. Could they not see they valued the Old Blood too much?
I mean, there's an interesting question here. Are the goals of the heroes really all that different from the goals of the a'saii? The prophecy is about uniting bloodlines and bringing back the Firstborn. But what does that really mean?
The a'saii obsession with blood purity is stupid of course, but is the weird glorified eugenics program that we're starting to see play out among the main characters much better? Bronwyn sold into marriage. Niall betrothed at birth to his cousin. Niall betrothing his own children to cement a deal and strength a bloodline. What are they trying to gain except power through the return of the Firstborn?
There is a pretty funny bit where Niall calls Serri pompous after Serri calls him out on being a little too self-congratulatory. I like them a lot.
As it turns out, I criticized Donal too soon, because Niall and Serri, now as wolves, end up stumbling across a group of Mujharan Guard. Led by Ian! HI IAN!
They're looking for Niall of course, though the guards have a really interesting interaction to seeing a "white wolf". Their conversation reveals that a new problem has struck Homana in the time Niall was missing: a plague, which was apparently attributed to wolves...specifically a white wolf.
It is, perhaps notable, that Niall's fur in wolf form is also white.
But also, egads. We have impending civil war from the Homanans. The a'saii in the Cheysuli. Strahan's forces, god knows where. And now a fucking plague? Really?
Anyway, the notable part is that there's a bounty for white wolves. But Ian keeps them on track, reminding them that the reward for finding Niall would be more than killing a wolf.
So now we get a cute reunion:
I heard someone mutter something about a body, and realized they thought me dead. I am not a man much taken with jokes of death, real or not; at once I took back my human form and stepped out in front of them all. “But what coin for the heir if he finds himself?”
Hands went to swords and knives, then fell away. I heard startled exclamations, curses, murmurings of relief.
“Rujho! Gods, rujho, you are alive!” Ian swung a leg across his horse’s neck and leaped out of the saddle, beating his way through the ferns and dangling creepers.
I met him half way and clasped his bare arms, grinning as I felt the gold beneath my fingers. “Alive,” I agreed. “Ian—truly I did not mean to worry everyone. But—”
“It is enough that you are alive,” he interrupted. “I am not our jehan—let him give you the reprimands.”
I grimaced. Aye. No doubt he had more than one for me. “Ian—”
“Gods, we thought you were dead! We found the remains of your horse—the gear—” He shook his head. “Rujho.”
I don't think we've ever seen Ian this overjoyed. Nor have we seen Niall this confident, as he easily sends the guard captain back to inform the palace that yes, he's alive and will be back soon: he's got something he needs to do.
The guard captain, by the way, kind of babbles that for a second, they thought he was Carillon. Niall's always looked like him, but the beard he'd grown in the wild has been very striking.
Niall finds, for the first time in his life, that he doesn't actually mind the comparison. CARILLON never had a lir.
Ian tells Niall that, based on his behavior prior to the disappearance, he'd actually thought that Niall sought the death ritual. Niall is frank: he did. He also tells Ian what Ceinn tried to do to him.
And of course, there's another reveal:
“Grown up,” I told him. “Aye, a little.” I bent down on one knee to greet Tasha as she glided through the trampled fern. She purred, butting her head beneath my jaw in her customary greeting. “Still the lovely girl,” I told her warmly. “If Ian ever grows weary of you, you may come to me.”
Ian grunted eloquent dissent.
“Oh, aye, I know. You would not weary of her any more than I would weary of Serri.” I grinned. “Would you care to meet my lir?”
Before he could answer, I summoned Serri through the link. And when the wolf came, eyes slitted against the sunlight, I turned to watch my brother’s reaction.
He stood incredibly still for a long moment. And then, slowly, he knelt down amidst the tangle of deadfall, brush and bracken. “Oh wolf,” he whispered, “leijhana tu’sai—leijhana tu’sai for making my rujholli whole….” And put a shaking hand against Serri’s lovely head.
Aww.
This is very sweet. Ian's been by Niall's side, supportive but unable to help, for such a long time. It's really nice that he gets to be the first to share this joy with Niall.
Ian realizes that he should have recognized the signs of lir-sickness in his brother. But Niall understands and forgives him. Niall does, however, want to go to clankeep right away: he thinks that, with his lir, this might actually resolve matters for the clan.
Yes, Ian says, but what about the Homanans. And oo, I like this:
He caught my arm as I turned to go. “It might,” he said flatly. “Niall, have you forgotten how to count? You were in Erinn and Atvia for more than a year. And then, barely home again, you disappear for another month. You have given the Homanan rebels every opportunity to gain a foothold in this battle for the Lion.”
“Carillon’s bastard,” I said grimly.
“Aye, Carillon’s bastard.” He glared. “Niall, he has begun to gather an army.”
One of my biggest complaints at the end of Legacy of the Sword was how Donal disappears for six months, post coronation, and it never actually matters. Despite the fact that he's the very first Cheysuli monarch in centuries and has to gain control of a contentious realm of people who want him dead.
Now though, Niall's disappearance actually DOES matter.
And hey, politics actually matter in this book too:
“Some,” he said shortly. “Cheysuli or no, I understand what this means. As you should….” He shook his head. “Even now he gathers an army as well as public opinion in his favor—”
“—and when he has enough of both, he can petition the Homanan Council for a change in the succession.” I nodded, pleased to see the surprise in Ian’s eyes; he had expected me to understand nothing at all. “And, of course, the Council, led by our father, will decline the petition—”
“—which will open the road to civil war,” Ian finished. “It is no idle threat, Niall; no unlikely happenstance. And you forget something else: the Council is made up of Homanans. All of them served under Carillon; our jehan has appointed no one, except for Rowan, and even he might prefer Carillon’s son as opposed to Carillon’s grandson.”
Ian doesn't really believe that of Rowan, to be fair, but he notes that there ARE parts of the petition that could actually get approved. Even when it comes to the prophecy:
“But he is not Cheysuli.”
Ian did not smile. “Let us say the Homanans are less impressed with the need to fulfill the prophecy than the Cheysuli are, Niall. But let us say also there are those on the Council who do desire to see the prophecy fulfilled…how better to lay proper claim to the Lion than to wed the claimant to a woman with the necessary bloodlines?”
“Cheysuli,” I blurted. “But who would agree to such a thing? I am the rightful heir!”
“Gisella might,” he said evenly. “With you dead, why should she decline the chance to be Queen of Homana? The title was promised her at birth the moment her gender was known.”
I appreciate the acknowledgment that the prophecy has more than one way to be fulfilled. (Though they'd need to make up for the lack of Solindish blood that came from Electra.) I really do wish Roberson would bother to tell us a bit more about the actual role of the Homanan Council though. It was something that literally came up in the second to last chapter of Legacy of the Sword.
Who ARE these people?
Oh, but speaking of Gisella...
“Gisella!” I said bitterly. “Gods, but I wish she had died in her mother’s fall!”
“Niall!” Again, Ian caught my arm. “Niall—by the gods, you know—”
“That she ensorcelled me? Aye, I know—I knew the moment I gained my lir. Whatever spell she wove must have had Ihlini origins, not Cheysuli. I remembered it all once I had linked with Serri.” And then all the pain and grief welled up again. “Oh gods—Ian…what they made me do—”
Oof. Poor guy. I think Gisella is a victim here too, but Niall's not really in a position to appreciate that right now, and that's understandable.
Niall and Ian share a moment of grief together. It's still not clear how much Ian actually knows of the circumstances leading up to that, but he definitely recognizes that Niall loved Deirdre. And he's even willing to talk about it, despite the standard Cheysuli reticence.
Silently he knelt down on one knee and caught the back of my neck with a single hand, forcing me to look into his face. “Rujho,” he said, “if you loved her that much, I am truly sorry.”
It shocked me, even in my grief. “You speak of love?”
“Why not? It exists, no matter what the customs say. Do you think there is no love between our jehan and his cheysula?”
“Is there?”
“Of course. I see them differently, rujho, because they allow me to. Or—” smiling a little, he shrugged “—perhaps they do not allow it, and yet I see it. But be certain it exists.”
I've said before that the one downside to Track of the White Wolf being so focused on Niall's point of view is that there's a lot that he misses. He is, understandably, more than a little self-absorbed. And yet again, I'm intrigued by the dynamic particularly between Ian and Aislinn.
Hell, it occurs to me, if we consider how old Aislinn was at her marriage, she's only about thirteen years older than Ian. That adds to the awkward dynamic.
Ian also has an interesting perspective on Alaric and Gisella:
I saw Deirdre in the distance. “Not I,” I said remotely. “By the gods, not I… I will never love Gisella.”
After a moment, he sighed. “No,” he agreed. “No, I think not. I think no man will ever love Gisella…except, perhaps, her jehan.”
“Alaric?”
“Aye. You were too bedazzled by what the girl had done to you—but aye, Alaric loves her. And I think he does not forgive himself for being the man who made her the way she is.”
“Compassion for the enemy?”
“Compassion for the jehan.” He clasped my neck briefly and pulled my head against one shoulder in a brotherly gesture of affection, then tousled my hair as he rose. “Perhaps you have the right of it rujho. I think we should go to Clankeep.”
Ian's a good guy too. I don't think I could spare much compassion for a man who helped keep me captive. But Ian spent months there before Niall arrived, and likely had time to observe all of the major players.
Anyway, Niall's surprised at Ian's change of mind, but, as Ian points out, there IS something left for Niall to do: claim his lir gold. He has the right to wear it now.
There is a very cute brother moment when Ian frets because there's only one mount, and Niall's too big for both to ride. Niall points out that he doesn't have to ride: he can go in wolfshape instead, which makes Ian curse. He wants to go in lir shape too!
The chapter ends here.
As you may recall, we last left off with Niall asking Serri to teach him how to shapeshift. And indeed, this chapter starts with a lot of babble about shapeshifting. Like this, for example:
It is a trade, the ability to put off one form and wear another. A transience unlimited by beginning and end, simply a time of being; when I was a wolf I was a wolf, not a man, not Niall; not even the Prince of Homana. Not even a Cheysuli. Just—a wolf, and bound by such freedom as an unblessed man cannot possibly comprehend. Not even a Cheysuli. Because even a warrior, in human form, lacks the perfection of the animal he becomes when he trades one shape for the other. Even a Cheysuli is less than he can be.
I began to understand. And I began to see why my race is so arrogant, so insular, so certain of their place within the tapestry of the gods. Our colors are brighter. We are the warp and weft of Homana, and all the patterns besides. Pick us from that pattern and the shape of the dream collapses. The shape of life collapses.
As Homana herself would collapse.
Well, I'm glad he's having fun. Anyway, he now appreciates the "responsibility" that Donal has: trying to merge Homana and the Cheysuli into a "harmonious tapestry". And it occurs to me that the idea/imagery of the tapestry is actually a pretty major part of the second half of the series. It's weird that it's only come up now.
Niall is still pretty dramatic though:
I learned that to be lirless and trapped forever in the shape of a man is a torture of the kind no Cheysuli should ever experience.
I thought of myself as I had been: lirless, unblessed, a shadow of a man, lacking a soul altogether.
I guess this does bring a little context to the general Cheysuli reaction to Rowan. If this is what having a lir feels like, then I suppose the revulsion makes sense. But Niall is a much better dude than his father:
And I thought of Rowan. And began to respect him as I had never fully respected him, knowing only I had resented him as I had resented myself, because we neither of us claimed a lir.
Niall is a pretty self centered dude, but as we saw, he was never rude to Rowan. And I appreciate that now having a lir has made him respect Rowan more. Rowan will never have what Niall has now, and that's worth appreciating.
It's interesting also because we're told that Serri doesn't just teach Niall how to shapechange, but about the "responsibilities inherent in the ability." He's not talking about peeping tom ethics, though, but the need to "retain the comprehension of self". Apparently, there's actually a risk that a man in lirshape who is too angry can become too careless, and lose himself to madness.
It's an interesting thought. One thing that came up a few times in Song of Homana was Carillon's perspective of Finn's change, and the idea that Finn might lose himself. Finn's predominate trait is his anger, after all. Was there a legitimate risk there after all?
We didn't see anything similar with Donal, but Donal had (with some notable exceptions) grown up reasonably supported and protected. It's not that he's never had trauma, but he's also had a loving mother, a supportive uncle, and a steady, stable and healthy clan around him.
I'm also intrigued by the dynamic between Niall and Serri. Do all lir take on this kind of teacher role, or does this develop because Niall is old enough to ask adult questions and understand adult explanations?
I like this a lot:
I wondered aloud: would it be so bad to be an animal forever?
And Serri had answered that a man, born a man, was intended to be a man; the gods, seeing how unbalanced the scale had become, and why, would take their retribution.
And I had said: Our gods are not retributive; that is a thing of Asar-Suti, the Seker, the god of the netherworld.
And he had answered: It is a thing of all gods, high and low, when their children go astray.
It's a shame really that we haven't had that close a look at lir bonds in prior books. We did get a reasonably close look at Cai and Storr in Shapechangers, as I recall. Of the two, Storr had a much stronger defined presence: feeling much older and debatably wiser than Finn himself. Carillon, of course, couldn't speak to lir at all, so we didn't get much insight there. And maybe it's because Donal had to be special and get two lir, but I didn't get a strong impression of Taj or Lorn either.
I feel like Lorn had a greater appreciation for creature comforts and ceremony, but I might be wrong about that. I think we can add the lack of lir definition to the list of missed opportunities in Legacy of the Sword.
But Niall's relationship with Serri is really interesting. Niall is probably the most cerebral of the leads we've had so far. He's educated and eloquent and now he's got a conversation partner willign to indulge in these kind of conversations with him. (Ian strikes me as a practical sort, less inclined to this kind of philosophy.)
Niall's got other thoughts too. He wonders about being a Firstborn, with more power than either Ihlini or Cheysuli, but also "carry[ing] the seeds of self-destruction".
That's interesting too, because it's the first acknowledgment we've had that MAYBE the Firstborn aren't entirely perfect. Maybe they no longer exist for a reason.
I thought of Ceinn and his fellow a’saii, harking back to the days of the Firstborn and desiring the power again. Their desire was not wrong, precisely—the prophecy, fulfilled, would give us that power again, with added stability gained from the bloodlines merged—but their method of attaining the power was. Could they not see they valued the Old Blood too much?
I mean, there's an interesting question here. Are the goals of the heroes really all that different from the goals of the a'saii? The prophecy is about uniting bloodlines and bringing back the Firstborn. But what does that really mean?
The a'saii obsession with blood purity is stupid of course, but is the weird glorified eugenics program that we're starting to see play out among the main characters much better? Bronwyn sold into marriage. Niall betrothed at birth to his cousin. Niall betrothing his own children to cement a deal and strength a bloodline. What are they trying to gain except power through the return of the Firstborn?
There is a pretty funny bit where Niall calls Serri pompous after Serri calls him out on being a little too self-congratulatory. I like them a lot.
As it turns out, I criticized Donal too soon, because Niall and Serri, now as wolves, end up stumbling across a group of Mujharan Guard. Led by Ian! HI IAN!
They're looking for Niall of course, though the guards have a really interesting interaction to seeing a "white wolf". Their conversation reveals that a new problem has struck Homana in the time Niall was missing: a plague, which was apparently attributed to wolves...specifically a white wolf.
It is, perhaps notable, that Niall's fur in wolf form is also white.
But also, egads. We have impending civil war from the Homanans. The a'saii in the Cheysuli. Strahan's forces, god knows where. And now a fucking plague? Really?
Anyway, the notable part is that there's a bounty for white wolves. But Ian keeps them on track, reminding them that the reward for finding Niall would be more than killing a wolf.
So now we get a cute reunion:
I heard someone mutter something about a body, and realized they thought me dead. I am not a man much taken with jokes of death, real or not; at once I took back my human form and stepped out in front of them all. “But what coin for the heir if he finds himself?”
Hands went to swords and knives, then fell away. I heard startled exclamations, curses, murmurings of relief.
“Rujho! Gods, rujho, you are alive!” Ian swung a leg across his horse’s neck and leaped out of the saddle, beating his way through the ferns and dangling creepers.
I met him half way and clasped his bare arms, grinning as I felt the gold beneath my fingers. “Alive,” I agreed. “Ian—truly I did not mean to worry everyone. But—”
“It is enough that you are alive,” he interrupted. “I am not our jehan—let him give you the reprimands.”
I grimaced. Aye. No doubt he had more than one for me. “Ian—”
“Gods, we thought you were dead! We found the remains of your horse—the gear—” He shook his head. “Rujho.”
I don't think we've ever seen Ian this overjoyed. Nor have we seen Niall this confident, as he easily sends the guard captain back to inform the palace that yes, he's alive and will be back soon: he's got something he needs to do.
The guard captain, by the way, kind of babbles that for a second, they thought he was Carillon. Niall's always looked like him, but the beard he'd grown in the wild has been very striking.
Niall finds, for the first time in his life, that he doesn't actually mind the comparison. CARILLON never had a lir.
Ian tells Niall that, based on his behavior prior to the disappearance, he'd actually thought that Niall sought the death ritual. Niall is frank: he did. He also tells Ian what Ceinn tried to do to him.
And of course, there's another reveal:
“Grown up,” I told him. “Aye, a little.” I bent down on one knee to greet Tasha as she glided through the trampled fern. She purred, butting her head beneath my jaw in her customary greeting. “Still the lovely girl,” I told her warmly. “If Ian ever grows weary of you, you may come to me.”
Ian grunted eloquent dissent.
“Oh, aye, I know. You would not weary of her any more than I would weary of Serri.” I grinned. “Would you care to meet my lir?”
Before he could answer, I summoned Serri through the link. And when the wolf came, eyes slitted against the sunlight, I turned to watch my brother’s reaction.
He stood incredibly still for a long moment. And then, slowly, he knelt down amidst the tangle of deadfall, brush and bracken. “Oh wolf,” he whispered, “leijhana tu’sai—leijhana tu’sai for making my rujholli whole….” And put a shaking hand against Serri’s lovely head.
Aww.
This is very sweet. Ian's been by Niall's side, supportive but unable to help, for such a long time. It's really nice that he gets to be the first to share this joy with Niall.
Ian realizes that he should have recognized the signs of lir-sickness in his brother. But Niall understands and forgives him. Niall does, however, want to go to clankeep right away: he thinks that, with his lir, this might actually resolve matters for the clan.
Yes, Ian says, but what about the Homanans. And oo, I like this:
He caught my arm as I turned to go. “It might,” he said flatly. “Niall, have you forgotten how to count? You were in Erinn and Atvia for more than a year. And then, barely home again, you disappear for another month. You have given the Homanan rebels every opportunity to gain a foothold in this battle for the Lion.”
“Carillon’s bastard,” I said grimly.
“Aye, Carillon’s bastard.” He glared. “Niall, he has begun to gather an army.”
One of my biggest complaints at the end of Legacy of the Sword was how Donal disappears for six months, post coronation, and it never actually matters. Despite the fact that he's the very first Cheysuli monarch in centuries and has to gain control of a contentious realm of people who want him dead.
Now though, Niall's disappearance actually DOES matter.
And hey, politics actually matter in this book too:
“Some,” he said shortly. “Cheysuli or no, I understand what this means. As you should….” He shook his head. “Even now he gathers an army as well as public opinion in his favor—”
“—and when he has enough of both, he can petition the Homanan Council for a change in the succession.” I nodded, pleased to see the surprise in Ian’s eyes; he had expected me to understand nothing at all. “And, of course, the Council, led by our father, will decline the petition—”
“—which will open the road to civil war,” Ian finished. “It is no idle threat, Niall; no unlikely happenstance. And you forget something else: the Council is made up of Homanans. All of them served under Carillon; our jehan has appointed no one, except for Rowan, and even he might prefer Carillon’s son as opposed to Carillon’s grandson.”
Ian doesn't really believe that of Rowan, to be fair, but he notes that there ARE parts of the petition that could actually get approved. Even when it comes to the prophecy:
“But he is not Cheysuli.”
Ian did not smile. “Let us say the Homanans are less impressed with the need to fulfill the prophecy than the Cheysuli are, Niall. But let us say also there are those on the Council who do desire to see the prophecy fulfilled…how better to lay proper claim to the Lion than to wed the claimant to a woman with the necessary bloodlines?”
“Cheysuli,” I blurted. “But who would agree to such a thing? I am the rightful heir!”
“Gisella might,” he said evenly. “With you dead, why should she decline the chance to be Queen of Homana? The title was promised her at birth the moment her gender was known.”
I appreciate the acknowledgment that the prophecy has more than one way to be fulfilled. (Though they'd need to make up for the lack of Solindish blood that came from Electra.) I really do wish Roberson would bother to tell us a bit more about the actual role of the Homanan Council though. It was something that literally came up in the second to last chapter of Legacy of the Sword.
Who ARE these people?
Oh, but speaking of Gisella...
“Gisella!” I said bitterly. “Gods, but I wish she had died in her mother’s fall!”
“Niall!” Again, Ian caught my arm. “Niall—by the gods, you know—”
“That she ensorcelled me? Aye, I know—I knew the moment I gained my lir. Whatever spell she wove must have had Ihlini origins, not Cheysuli. I remembered it all once I had linked with Serri.” And then all the pain and grief welled up again. “Oh gods—Ian…what they made me do—”
Oof. Poor guy. I think Gisella is a victim here too, but Niall's not really in a position to appreciate that right now, and that's understandable.
Niall and Ian share a moment of grief together. It's still not clear how much Ian actually knows of the circumstances leading up to that, but he definitely recognizes that Niall loved Deirdre. And he's even willing to talk about it, despite the standard Cheysuli reticence.
Silently he knelt down on one knee and caught the back of my neck with a single hand, forcing me to look into his face. “Rujho,” he said, “if you loved her that much, I am truly sorry.”
It shocked me, even in my grief. “You speak of love?”
“Why not? It exists, no matter what the customs say. Do you think there is no love between our jehan and his cheysula?”
“Is there?”
“Of course. I see them differently, rujho, because they allow me to. Or—” smiling a little, he shrugged “—perhaps they do not allow it, and yet I see it. But be certain it exists.”
I've said before that the one downside to Track of the White Wolf being so focused on Niall's point of view is that there's a lot that he misses. He is, understandably, more than a little self-absorbed. And yet again, I'm intrigued by the dynamic particularly between Ian and Aislinn.
Hell, it occurs to me, if we consider how old Aislinn was at her marriage, she's only about thirteen years older than Ian. That adds to the awkward dynamic.
Ian also has an interesting perspective on Alaric and Gisella:
I saw Deirdre in the distance. “Not I,” I said remotely. “By the gods, not I… I will never love Gisella.”
After a moment, he sighed. “No,” he agreed. “No, I think not. I think no man will ever love Gisella…except, perhaps, her jehan.”
“Alaric?”
“Aye. You were too bedazzled by what the girl had done to you—but aye, Alaric loves her. And I think he does not forgive himself for being the man who made her the way she is.”
“Compassion for the enemy?”
“Compassion for the jehan.” He clasped my neck briefly and pulled my head against one shoulder in a brotherly gesture of affection, then tousled my hair as he rose. “Perhaps you have the right of it rujho. I think we should go to Clankeep.”
Ian's a good guy too. I don't think I could spare much compassion for a man who helped keep me captive. But Ian spent months there before Niall arrived, and likely had time to observe all of the major players.
Anyway, Niall's surprised at Ian's change of mind, but, as Ian points out, there IS something left for Niall to do: claim his lir gold. He has the right to wear it now.
There is a very cute brother moment when Ian frets because there's only one mount, and Niall's too big for both to ride. Niall points out that he doesn't have to ride: he can go in wolfshape instead, which makes Ian curse. He wants to go in lir shape too!
The chapter ends here.