![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kalinara posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
i_read_whatSo last time, we had something of a mini-reunion as Brennan and Hart are reunited, and Strahan puts the hard sell on both. Corin remains separate, but he wants to see his brothers too.
This chapter starts with a rather awkward simile: The Gate emitted a deep gurgling belch, like a man suppressing laughter, as Strahan left the cavern. Godfire continued to play around the rim. Tendrils of it licked out of the hole, probed the air, withdrew in a splash of smoke. Caught in tiers of glassy arches, the echoed hiss was amplified.
I like the description over all, but "belch" feels like a weird, undignified word choice here and doesn't flow well with the rest of it.
Anyway, remember last time, I said that Brennan wasn't reacting well to Hart's disability, but that it was probably just the shock. I admit that was wishful thinking, because I didn't remember. Brennan didn't seem like the kind of character to reject his brother outright. Thankfully, I was right:
Brennan rose, pressing himself to his feet with one thrust of a splayed hand. He went immediately to his brother.
Hart still knelt on the uneven floor, left arm hugged against his chest. The rocking had ceased, but not the rigidity of his body or the emptiness of his eyes. His face showed the strain of his captivity: pronounced hollows beneath high cheekbones, dark circles beneath blue eyes; a stark bleakness of expression that had nothing to do with captivity and everything to do with the choice Strahan had given him.
Gently, Brennan touched the crown of Hart's bowed head. “Rujho, I am sorry."
You have no idea how relieved I am, right now. Brennan is my favorite and I hadn't thought it'd be in character for him to be so intentionally ableist. But this is Roberson, and while I think Pride of Princes might well be her best written book in the series so far, there was still a good chance that she'd find a way to destroy my favorite character. It's happened before, after all.
Hart, anguished, says the very worst part of it is that he won't fly again. That answers my question about that, I suppose. The hand would correspond to a part of the wing, I'd guess, and thus, his anatomy would be fucked.
Ouch. I don't like Hart for so many reasons, but that's rough.
Brennan tries for the sympathetic approach, but "I know" is maybe not the right approach here.
"You do not know." Awkwardly, Hart got to his feet.
"No warrior whose lir lacks wings can understand the freedom there is in the air, the manifest miracle of flight—"
He broke off a moment, realizing he walked too close to the edge of control. "I do not discount Sleeta or your own lir-shape, Brennan, but it is not the same as mine."
That is fair, I think. Flight must be an incredible experience. To have it and lose it...
Brennan agrees with him and asks what happens. Hart is honest:
"Foolishness," Hart said bitterly. "Idiocy, and worse. I put myself in the hands of the enemy for the price of a stupid game."
"You wagered your hand?"
"No. Worse. I wagered Solinde." Hart drew in a deep breath, than blew it out. "It is complicated, rujho, and I am not proud of it. You can see the result plainly."
Well, the acknowledgement of fault (Hart isn't to blame for his maiming, mind you. But the whole betting Solinde mess was his. Dar may have been the instigator, but Hart joined that dance willingly) is refreshing. That said, we know from Donal that admitting fault is only one part of the equation. We still need to see a positive change in behavior.
But to be fair, now really isn't the time to show that.
Hart proves more alert in this chapter than he ever did in Solinde:
Frowning, he looked more closely at his brother. "What has he done to you?"
"To me? To me? Nothing." Brennan turned away, paced a few steps, swung back. "Nothing that shows, rujho ... he is too clever for that."
"Sleeta?"
"He has her. Somewhere here. Somewhere hidden."
He shook his head. "Close enough to keep me from the edge of lirlessness and madness."
"But only just," Hart said flatly. "Do you think I cannot see it? I can see it in your eyes—"
Brennan waved it off. "Aye, aye," he said shortly, "but what of Strahan? I know why he wants us—to use as puppet-kings—but why this protracted mummery? Why not simply force us to do his will? He can. Easily. This is Valgaard, the Gate of the netherworld—his power is manifest. It should be a simple task—"
Hart is at least acknowledging his problem. Brennan is still engaging in misdirect. The lir loss is an issue, of course. But notice how the other part, the claustrophobia, remains a secret from his twin. Even though the villains themselves already know and can use it against him.
But Brennan's analytical wondering is contagious. Hart now wonders if Strahan has a limit to his power, if he needs willing victims.
Brennan notes that Strahan has other minions, but not Cheysuli and particularly not of Old Blood. Maybe he needs more than that.
Hart thinks it might just be Strahan's perversity. He might just enjoy the thought of a Cheysuli henchman who accepted service willingly rather than being forced.
I wonder. Duncan was enslaved, but he was already a lirless man. And also he wasn't casually used as a minion either. We never heard of him actually carrying out Strahan's orders. Ian was a sex slave, not a henchman. Gisella...
"Even Gisella was not forced."
Hart shivered once. "No. What need? Lillith twisted her so badly—"
"—at least, what was left from the unfortunate circumstance of her birth." Brennan's expression was unsettled; only rarely did he give over any time to thinking of his mother. "But this is different, rujho—"
"Aye," Hart said harshly. "He knows what inducements to use."
It always interests me to see how the boys see their mother. They're probably right: Between her initial injuries and the accompanying untreated brain damage, and her incredibly abusive upbringing, Gisella's "consent" is a flimsy thing at best. That might be all Strahan needs. Though, there's no indication that Gisella actually follows Asar-Suti.
Brennan is alarmed at Hart's tone and the look in his eyes, but his attempt to express concern is cut off. Hart tells him to look to himself, he's got his own choice to make.
I have to admit, as annoyed as I was that the character I liked best had to share his book with his brothers, I do appreciate that there is a lot more genuine suspense here. Because they don't have to survive to further the prophecy. Not all of them. Each one of them has the pre-requisite blood. Any one of them could father the next generation. And Niall's still alive. He could, theoretically, even father more children. The genetic percentages might be different, but not that much. Deirdre has the requisite Erinn blood (that Roberson forgets is already in the mix) and the Atvian blood that Gisella brought to the table...
But now Strahan makes his entrance:
Tahlmorra lujhala mei wiccan, cheysu," Strahan said as he walked. Echoes thrummed in the Seker's harp.
"Such an all-encompassing statement, this thing of gods and fate. Have you never thought to question it? To free yourselves of such blind and binding service?"
Slowly, Brennan shook his head. "No more than you have questioned your own service to the Seker."
"Ah, but I have my reasons." Strahan paused between them, near the lip of the Gate. And then circled it calmly to stand on the other side. He smiled and made a gesture. "A full complement of Niall's sons."
As he meant them to. Hart and Brennan turned to look. And stared, rigidly, as Corin was brought into the cavern. That he could not walk was plain; both legs were tightly bound in wooden splints and linen wrappings.
Ihlini carried him on a litter. He reclined against piled bolsters, but gripped the litter with both hands.
Strahan of course disavows blame for Corin's injuries. But um, dude, it was your minions who drove him off the cliff, so it pretty much is your fault.
The boys get their limited reunion:
Hart went to Corin. "Rujho—“
"I am well enough," Corin said. "For all I hate to admit it, Strahan does not lie. I am nearly healed." His eyes were on Hart's left wrist. "He told me—he told me—"
Hart's mouth twisted. "Strahan does not lie." He sighed.
"You know what he wants from us."
Corin averted his gaze. "Aye. He has made it very plain."
Brennan came to the litter and knelt. "Corin—"
"Enough," Strahan said. "The reunion may come later. I want you to listen to me."
I do not think it's an accident that Strahan interrupts right now. Remember, his tactic on Corin is heavily based on Corin's resentment of and envy toward his brother.
Interestingly, Brennan calling Strahan an "abomination" seems to have hit a nerve. We get a pretty long villain rant here.
"I am no more abomination than you," Strahan told Brennan. "What I do, I do for my god, my race, myself. I believe in what I do, because what I do is just."
"The destruction of the Cheysuli? The fall of Homana?"
Brennan shook his head. "I think—“
"You do not think!" Strahan shocked them all with the abruptness and intensity of his passion. The sound reverberated in the cavern, threading its way among the columns of the Seker's monstrous harp. “If you thought, you would realize that what I do is no different from what you do, if for a different reason." Now his tone was cold as he looked at each of them individually. "When I was a boy, and very young, I learned what hatred was, and I learned that it had no place in what I was meant to do. And so I do not Hate you." He drew in a breath, strung so tightly the others thought—prayed—he might snap. "I learned what it was to prepare myself to serve my father's god with absolute loyalty, knowing the way of the Seker was the only way for me. And when Carillon slew Tynstar and Electra, stripping me of my parents, I learned what it was to know of the desire for revenge—and how to detach myself from it so it did not affect my judgment, my needs, my loyalty to my God and to his needs."
"No doubt." Brennan said coolly. "We see the design quite clearly."
That's a long speech, dude. I don't think the boys care about your sob story at this point. As Brennan demonstrates.
It's a shame that Strahan and Brennan never got a face to face prior to the captivity the way Niall had. I think Brennan might be the first to really get under his skin a bit.
Anyway, Strahan shoots down Brennan's argument. Sort of.
"Do you? I think not. I think you see only yourself caught within a trap, when the trap involves much more than a single man." Strahan shook his head. "You give yourself too much value, too much weight in the fabric of life ... you are but a slub within the cloth, subject to rejection."
Brennan's brows rose. "If that were true—"
"—I would not want you?" Again, Strahan shook his head. "You are an ingredient, but hardly the dish itself."
The dish doesn't exist without the ingredients. Strahan didn't kidnap and torture these boys for petty amusement. That becomes very clear.
We get MORE of a villain rant here:
Strahan's odd eyes were incredibly compelling. "I am no different from any of you. I serve my god as you serve the pantheon of your own, as dedicated to destroying the prophecy as you are to fulfilling it. Why? Because fulfillment destroys the Ihlini." He spread one hand; the other held the rune-scribed box. "You see? A simple answer for you: I believe in what I do every bit as strongly as you do in your prophecy. Does it make me a monster? Does it make me abomination? Does it make me different from you?"
Look, that argument might have had some merit against Duncan, Finn or Donal: men who've captured, imprisoned, abused and raped. But the boys are reasonably innocent. Even Hart, much as he annoys me, never acted from maliciousness.
Corin's attempt at defense though goes awry:
"We do not kill people arbitrarily," Corin said curtly. "We—"
But Strahan's laughter overrode his retort. "Oh, no?" the Ihlini asked. "Then what of the thirty-two innocent souls who burned to death in the Midden? Was that done with purpose?"
Ooof.
Because, well, yeah. That did happen. And the boys do wince at it. Particularly Hart, who knows himself the most responsible.
Responsible, maybe. A partial cause, yes. The boys should have known better than to go to the worst part of town. (And to be fair, as annoying as I find Hart, they're all guilty here. They didn't have to come with him.) But they didn't anticipate the racism they faced. They didn't anticipate things turning violent. They weren't the ones who turned it violent. The end result was tragic but no, it wasn't their fault, and it's not remotely similar to what Strahan does.
And Hart is the one given the more effective response:
"But we do not set about destroying an entire race," he answered flatly. "What of the plague, Strahan? Twenty years ago it nearly killed us all. What of the wars, Strahan? How many hundreds of years has Homana fought Solinde merely to stave off the Ihlini? What of all the trap-links and other sorcerous things designed to bring us down?"
There's also Ian's rape, Niall's mind control, and the boys's captivity too. These boys haven't done anything like that.
Strahan merely says that War requires harsh measures, and they'd fight as hard if they weren't blind.
"Yourselves," Strahan told him, looking from Corin to Hart to Brennan. "Once the Firstborn have come, we will be redundant. Ihlini and Cheysuli; the need for us is gone."
Brennan's disgust was plain. "I have heard that before." He thought of Tiernan and other similar sentiments. "It is idiocy, Strahan—why would the gods sentence us to death on the birth of other children?"
"It is the way of things." Strahan said. "When you breed a stallion and mare to improve existing bloodlines, you desire offspring combining the best of both. And then you breed get to get to fix the characteristics. It is the same with dogs, with sheep, with cattle . . . and one day, when you have the characteristics you want, you realize there is no need for the progenitors; they are obsolete. The new breed is much better." The light was odd on his face. "It is the same with people."
Corin laughed once. "You reduce the House of Homana to a collection of studs and mares."
a) It is good to finally see some argument against the prophecy. I myself have said that I'm not sure it's a great idea to bring back a demigod, or race of demigods, when you don't know if they'll be good or evil, friend or foe.
b) But Strahan's argument is ridiculous. The Cheysuli are deliberately attempting to genetically recreate their predecessors. But even if they're successful, that's only going to create ONE family. Admittedly, by the end of the series, the family is going to look more like a DNA strand than a tree, but the other side of that is...there really aren't many extraneous branches that will lead to more lines.
There aren't a lot of unaccounted for cousins. Meghan, maybe, but she's far enough back to lack most of the required blood. I don't want to spoil what happens to Niall's kids, but there's maybe one line that doesn't end up breeding into the Firstborn. (A set of girls that can't inherit, due to their sex.) It's always possible that they might end up breeding up the blood themselves in a few generations I suppose...maybe they could end up being a marriage clan.
But that's still pretty limited. Cynric is one dude. We have no idea if there'll be siblings at all. And he'll have to marry SOMEONE to breed up more. Maybe we'll get a few Ptolemic or Hapsburg generations after all. But eventually they're going to branch out again which will lead to more Old Blood within existing populations. And maybe more proto-Cheysuli/Ihlini branches.
Basically, I think it's a lot more likely and would be a lot more realistic for Strahan to fear the enslavement of his race, rather than the extinction of it.
3) That said, Corin...look at your family history. The studs and mares comparison is not undeserved.
As Strahan points out. That said, as I explained before, Strahan can't fucking do math.
"Look at your prophecy," Strahan snapped impatiently. "Are you blind to its commands?" Glibly contemptuous, he quoted. " 'One day a man of all blood shall unite, in peace, four warring realms and two magical races.' " He stared at them angrily. "Marry here, wed there, get the blood for the prophecy . . . look to no other kingdom because we need this one, to fulfill the prophecy." He shook his head in disgust. "A collection of studs and mares . . . what else do you think you are?"
None of them could answer.
Strahan nodded slightly. "You are all of you one of the final links in the prophecy. You combine the blood of three realms: Homana, Solinde, Atvia. You lack only Erinn, but children born of Brennan and Aileen will fulfill that portion, as well as children of Keely and Sean. And that leaves only the blood of the Ihlini." Black brows touched the circlet in an expression of delicate amusement. "The hardest feat of all, getting Cheysuli to lie with Ihlini."
Brennan's flesh went suddenly hot on his bones.
They DON'T lack Erinn. Lindir's mother, Shaine's first wife WAS ERINNISH. That's where the Old Blood supposedly came from, and while that's racist ass bullshit, if we're counting the Old Blood than the Erinnish counts too.
Rhiannon's kid should be Firstborn.
Speaking of.
"Of course," Strahan continued, "the precedent has been set. By Ian. The unspeakable was accomplished once—and then again." He looked at Brennan. "And yet an impediment exists. The child will not quite be a Firstborn, lacking some of the blood ... it will not quite be the human equivalent to fulfillment of the merging of power and bloodlines—but it will have a complement of powers greater than most of ours. And I will put it to good use in breeding it for my own."
I don't think it's on purpose, but there is something amazing about the day being saved because the villains can't do fucking math.
Corin asks if that means that Sidra's bastard is his. Well, Sidra says so. Strahan confirms: Rhiannon's child will marry his own once the genders are in balance. (He notes that Brennan probably won't freely participate again - he didn't "freely participate" the first time. It's a blatant rape by deception scenario, you ass. But Sidra can always have more children.)
Hart suggests he let them go then. They're not useful after all. Strahan notes that, to him, they're not. But the Seker/Asar-Suti wants them, so that it can control the realms.
Things get a bit non-sequitur when Hart asks why the Seker wants the realms. Strahan's all "that's what a god does." Corin challenges him with the idea that he himself might become a god."
It's a really weird story element, because it's never come up before and I don't really think it comes up again. I don't know if this genuinely IS Strahan's ambition or if Corin is projecting, or if the ambition is shared with Tynstar before him or Lochiel after him.
But when Corin asks if Asar-Suti knows what he wants, Strahan does shoot back with:
Strahan's eyes narrowed slightly, but his smile remained unblemished. "And does Brennan know how much you want Aileen?”
Ouch.
Corin slumps down. Brennan is bewildered. And Corin shows that he's as capable of side-stepping as his big brother:
"Aileen?" Brennan said blankly. Then he looked at Corin. "You want-—"
"He said you were unfit." Corin's tone was curt and characteristically defensive.
"Unfit! I? And you believed him?"
"Are you not?" Strahan asked.
You know, Corin, if you just admitted that you met Aileen and fell in love...your brothers would probably understand that.
Anyway, Brennan is offended. He's spent almost twenty-two years learning to rule after all. (It does occur to me that Aileen and Brennan...or Aileen and Corin for that matter, would be the first couple in this series where the woman is older than the man. Well, aside from Carillon and Electra, but Electra is evil so she doesn't really count.)
But well, here's the unfortunate part of a hidden shame. It never stays hidden forever:
"Are you not?" Strahan repeated. "Think back, my lord of Homana . . . think back to your fear."
Brennan's color faded.
"Aye," Strahan said. "Your fear of small, dark places—the terror of close confinement... the diminishment of the man who becomes nothing more than a beast." He smiled. "Do you think I have not seen it? Rhiannon told me of it, and I have watched you in your cell."
"Enough!" Hart shouted, seeing Brennan's eyes.
The Cheysuli are ableist as fuck when it comes to disability. Are they much better when it comes to mental health? We saw how Ceinn reacted to Gisella. We know that Ian treats his rape trauma with yearly cleansing.
Strahan makes his offer once more. Accept, and he'll remove the fear.
Brennan says no and:
"Then live in it again . . . show Corin how fit you are to rule." Strahan raised his hand and Brennan's world was changed.
He was small, so small, so tiny in the abyss of the world. He knelt on the ground and hugged himself, wrapping himself in his arms, trying to withstand the pain and fear of knowing himself alone.
The vastness amazed him. It made him insignificant, reduced him to obsolescence. Alone in the world he knelt on a vast stone plain, watching the world around him, and saw it begin to move.
—how it moved—
Like a sphincter squeezing closed, it began to move upon him. Fold upon fold, swallowed by itself. The world grew smaller and smaller and smaller, until he could put out his hands and touch it, and then it grew smaller still.
That's fucking evocative. And it keeps going. From the outside:
Brennan fell backward, rolling from one hip onto his spine. Cramped thighs spasmed and trembled. Jerking twisted tendons. His skull banged against the floor, released from the rigidity of his neck. He lay on the stone and shook, wet from the sweat of his fear.
Dimly he heard movement. But no one came to aid him.
"What kind of king," Strahan said, "fears confinement more than death? Fears it so much that it robs him of control?" He pointed slowly to Brennan's trembling body on the floor, "Do you, Corin, truly believe him fit to rule? Fit to hold the Lion? To sire children on Aileen?”
"Stop!" Corin shouted.
And Strahan senses his advantage.
Strahan ripped open the box, "Accept service with me, and I will make your brother whole!”
Sickened, Corin stared. "Oh—gods—stop—“
"You see what Brennan is—I can free him of that!”
"No more!" Corin cried.
"Take the Lion for me. Hold Homana for me. Take the woman for yourself.”
Corin clapped both his hands to his head. "Make him stop—"
Hart ends up being the one to fight his way to Strahan, who re-orients. He promises Hart that he'll give his brothers their lir. He'll make him whole, honored by the clan. Able to fly.
Then:
Hart wavered on his knees. "Ku'reshtin—"
"Take me," Corin shouted, "I will accept the service—"
"Corin—Corin, no—" Brennan tried to round the Gate.
Flame licked out, slapped him down, smashed him against the floor.
"Take me," Corin cried.
Hart threw himself at the Ihlini. Strahan fell heavily, landing on hip and elbow. A shower of sparks exploded from the Gate.
"He is forsworn!" Strahan shouted. "You heard what he said—"
That's not good!
But Hart actually gets a genuinely heroic action here:
Hart's hand was on the box. Runes blazed up and writhed, then circled the rectangular box in a blur of uncanny script. Faster, faster, until the blur ran off the wood and leaped onto Hart's remaining hand. He cried out in pain, but did not release the box.
Brennan, badly disoriented, tried to stand up and failed. Nearly senseless, he crawled slowly toward his brother.
Hart jerked the box from Strahan's grasp. Twisting, he turned back toward the Gate. "—my choice—" he gasped, and hurled it into the flames.
The loss was new again. He felt the sword blade come down, divide flesh, muscles, vessels, shear easily through bone. He saw the blood. Saw the severed hand. Saw Dar laughing at him.
Pain.
Hart screamed.
I can't believe I'm saying this, but well fucking done, Hart.
Brennan and Hart are seized, dragged away. Then things get a little kinky?
Strahan sat at the rim and laughed, one foot wreathed in icy Ihlini godfire. And then it crept up slowly, so slowly, to touch his knee, his thigh, his hip; caressed his genitals.
And exploded in ecstacy as it swallowed the rest of him, The fire died quickly before their astonished eyes. In its place was a delicate webwork of lavender lace, a lattice of living light that cloaked exposed flesh. Hands. Throat. Face. It even pooled in his mouth; licked out of nostrils as he breathed. Through it all, Strahan laughed.
...this probably explains a lot about the Ihlini.
Anyway, he banishes the silver cuff around Corin's hand. And then offers him the baptismal cup of Asar-Suti.
And:
Hart struggled impotently against the man who held him, "Corin, no—I threw it away—I threw it away—no need for this sacrifice—"
"Drink," Strahan said, and helped Corin hold the cup.
"Ku'reshtin!” Brennan shouted. "Did you do this for Aileen?"
"No." Corin said, "I do this for myself."
And drank of Asar-Suti.
Well. FUCK.
So the chapter ends with this very bad note.
That said, there is something I really like about this. Corin was always kind of the weak link here. And I teased it a few times in earlier chapters. But, while Corin does fall here, he doesn't do it out of ambition. Nor does he do it for Aileen. Not really. When he originally agreed, it was to save his brothers.
It's the best kind of tragedy, really. We have four chapters left to see what comes of it.
This chapter starts with a rather awkward simile: The Gate emitted a deep gurgling belch, like a man suppressing laughter, as Strahan left the cavern. Godfire continued to play around the rim. Tendrils of it licked out of the hole, probed the air, withdrew in a splash of smoke. Caught in tiers of glassy arches, the echoed hiss was amplified.
I like the description over all, but "belch" feels like a weird, undignified word choice here and doesn't flow well with the rest of it.
Anyway, remember last time, I said that Brennan wasn't reacting well to Hart's disability, but that it was probably just the shock. I admit that was wishful thinking, because I didn't remember. Brennan didn't seem like the kind of character to reject his brother outright. Thankfully, I was right:
Brennan rose, pressing himself to his feet with one thrust of a splayed hand. He went immediately to his brother.
Hart still knelt on the uneven floor, left arm hugged against his chest. The rocking had ceased, but not the rigidity of his body or the emptiness of his eyes. His face showed the strain of his captivity: pronounced hollows beneath high cheekbones, dark circles beneath blue eyes; a stark bleakness of expression that had nothing to do with captivity and everything to do with the choice Strahan had given him.
Gently, Brennan touched the crown of Hart's bowed head. “Rujho, I am sorry."
You have no idea how relieved I am, right now. Brennan is my favorite and I hadn't thought it'd be in character for him to be so intentionally ableist. But this is Roberson, and while I think Pride of Princes might well be her best written book in the series so far, there was still a good chance that she'd find a way to destroy my favorite character. It's happened before, after all.
Hart, anguished, says the very worst part of it is that he won't fly again. That answers my question about that, I suppose. The hand would correspond to a part of the wing, I'd guess, and thus, his anatomy would be fucked.
Ouch. I don't like Hart for so many reasons, but that's rough.
Brennan tries for the sympathetic approach, but "I know" is maybe not the right approach here.
"You do not know." Awkwardly, Hart got to his feet.
"No warrior whose lir lacks wings can understand the freedom there is in the air, the manifest miracle of flight—"
He broke off a moment, realizing he walked too close to the edge of control. "I do not discount Sleeta or your own lir-shape, Brennan, but it is not the same as mine."
That is fair, I think. Flight must be an incredible experience. To have it and lose it...
Brennan agrees with him and asks what happens. Hart is honest:
"Foolishness," Hart said bitterly. "Idiocy, and worse. I put myself in the hands of the enemy for the price of a stupid game."
"You wagered your hand?"
"No. Worse. I wagered Solinde." Hart drew in a deep breath, than blew it out. "It is complicated, rujho, and I am not proud of it. You can see the result plainly."
Well, the acknowledgement of fault (Hart isn't to blame for his maiming, mind you. But the whole betting Solinde mess was his. Dar may have been the instigator, but Hart joined that dance willingly) is refreshing. That said, we know from Donal that admitting fault is only one part of the equation. We still need to see a positive change in behavior.
But to be fair, now really isn't the time to show that.
Hart proves more alert in this chapter than he ever did in Solinde:
Frowning, he looked more closely at his brother. "What has he done to you?"
"To me? To me? Nothing." Brennan turned away, paced a few steps, swung back. "Nothing that shows, rujho ... he is too clever for that."
"Sleeta?"
"He has her. Somewhere here. Somewhere hidden."
He shook his head. "Close enough to keep me from the edge of lirlessness and madness."
"But only just," Hart said flatly. "Do you think I cannot see it? I can see it in your eyes—"
Brennan waved it off. "Aye, aye," he said shortly, "but what of Strahan? I know why he wants us—to use as puppet-kings—but why this protracted mummery? Why not simply force us to do his will? He can. Easily. This is Valgaard, the Gate of the netherworld—his power is manifest. It should be a simple task—"
Hart is at least acknowledging his problem. Brennan is still engaging in misdirect. The lir loss is an issue, of course. But notice how the other part, the claustrophobia, remains a secret from his twin. Even though the villains themselves already know and can use it against him.
But Brennan's analytical wondering is contagious. Hart now wonders if Strahan has a limit to his power, if he needs willing victims.
Brennan notes that Strahan has other minions, but not Cheysuli and particularly not of Old Blood. Maybe he needs more than that.
Hart thinks it might just be Strahan's perversity. He might just enjoy the thought of a Cheysuli henchman who accepted service willingly rather than being forced.
I wonder. Duncan was enslaved, but he was already a lirless man. And also he wasn't casually used as a minion either. We never heard of him actually carrying out Strahan's orders. Ian was a sex slave, not a henchman. Gisella...
"Even Gisella was not forced."
Hart shivered once. "No. What need? Lillith twisted her so badly—"
"—at least, what was left from the unfortunate circumstance of her birth." Brennan's expression was unsettled; only rarely did he give over any time to thinking of his mother. "But this is different, rujho—"
"Aye," Hart said harshly. "He knows what inducements to use."
It always interests me to see how the boys see their mother. They're probably right: Between her initial injuries and the accompanying untreated brain damage, and her incredibly abusive upbringing, Gisella's "consent" is a flimsy thing at best. That might be all Strahan needs. Though, there's no indication that Gisella actually follows Asar-Suti.
Brennan is alarmed at Hart's tone and the look in his eyes, but his attempt to express concern is cut off. Hart tells him to look to himself, he's got his own choice to make.
I have to admit, as annoyed as I was that the character I liked best had to share his book with his brothers, I do appreciate that there is a lot more genuine suspense here. Because they don't have to survive to further the prophecy. Not all of them. Each one of them has the pre-requisite blood. Any one of them could father the next generation. And Niall's still alive. He could, theoretically, even father more children. The genetic percentages might be different, but not that much. Deirdre has the requisite Erinn blood (that Roberson forgets is already in the mix) and the Atvian blood that Gisella brought to the table...
But now Strahan makes his entrance:
Tahlmorra lujhala mei wiccan, cheysu," Strahan said as he walked. Echoes thrummed in the Seker's harp.
"Such an all-encompassing statement, this thing of gods and fate. Have you never thought to question it? To free yourselves of such blind and binding service?"
Slowly, Brennan shook his head. "No more than you have questioned your own service to the Seker."
"Ah, but I have my reasons." Strahan paused between them, near the lip of the Gate. And then circled it calmly to stand on the other side. He smiled and made a gesture. "A full complement of Niall's sons."
As he meant them to. Hart and Brennan turned to look. And stared, rigidly, as Corin was brought into the cavern. That he could not walk was plain; both legs were tightly bound in wooden splints and linen wrappings.
Ihlini carried him on a litter. He reclined against piled bolsters, but gripped the litter with both hands.
Strahan of course disavows blame for Corin's injuries. But um, dude, it was your minions who drove him off the cliff, so it pretty much is your fault.
The boys get their limited reunion:
Hart went to Corin. "Rujho—“
"I am well enough," Corin said. "For all I hate to admit it, Strahan does not lie. I am nearly healed." His eyes were on Hart's left wrist. "He told me—he told me—"
Hart's mouth twisted. "Strahan does not lie." He sighed.
"You know what he wants from us."
Corin averted his gaze. "Aye. He has made it very plain."
Brennan came to the litter and knelt. "Corin—"
"Enough," Strahan said. "The reunion may come later. I want you to listen to me."
I do not think it's an accident that Strahan interrupts right now. Remember, his tactic on Corin is heavily based on Corin's resentment of and envy toward his brother.
Interestingly, Brennan calling Strahan an "abomination" seems to have hit a nerve. We get a pretty long villain rant here.
"I am no more abomination than you," Strahan told Brennan. "What I do, I do for my god, my race, myself. I believe in what I do, because what I do is just."
"The destruction of the Cheysuli? The fall of Homana?"
Brennan shook his head. "I think—“
"You do not think!" Strahan shocked them all with the abruptness and intensity of his passion. The sound reverberated in the cavern, threading its way among the columns of the Seker's monstrous harp. “If you thought, you would realize that what I do is no different from what you do, if for a different reason." Now his tone was cold as he looked at each of them individually. "When I was a boy, and very young, I learned what hatred was, and I learned that it had no place in what I was meant to do. And so I do not Hate you." He drew in a breath, strung so tightly the others thought—prayed—he might snap. "I learned what it was to prepare myself to serve my father's god with absolute loyalty, knowing the way of the Seker was the only way for me. And when Carillon slew Tynstar and Electra, stripping me of my parents, I learned what it was to know of the desire for revenge—and how to detach myself from it so it did not affect my judgment, my needs, my loyalty to my God and to his needs."
"No doubt." Brennan said coolly. "We see the design quite clearly."
That's a long speech, dude. I don't think the boys care about your sob story at this point. As Brennan demonstrates.
It's a shame that Strahan and Brennan never got a face to face prior to the captivity the way Niall had. I think Brennan might be the first to really get under his skin a bit.
Anyway, Strahan shoots down Brennan's argument. Sort of.
"Do you? I think not. I think you see only yourself caught within a trap, when the trap involves much more than a single man." Strahan shook his head. "You give yourself too much value, too much weight in the fabric of life ... you are but a slub within the cloth, subject to rejection."
Brennan's brows rose. "If that were true—"
"—I would not want you?" Again, Strahan shook his head. "You are an ingredient, but hardly the dish itself."
The dish doesn't exist without the ingredients. Strahan didn't kidnap and torture these boys for petty amusement. That becomes very clear.
We get MORE of a villain rant here:
Strahan's odd eyes were incredibly compelling. "I am no different from any of you. I serve my god as you serve the pantheon of your own, as dedicated to destroying the prophecy as you are to fulfilling it. Why? Because fulfillment destroys the Ihlini." He spread one hand; the other held the rune-scribed box. "You see? A simple answer for you: I believe in what I do every bit as strongly as you do in your prophecy. Does it make me a monster? Does it make me abomination? Does it make me different from you?"
Look, that argument might have had some merit against Duncan, Finn or Donal: men who've captured, imprisoned, abused and raped. But the boys are reasonably innocent. Even Hart, much as he annoys me, never acted from maliciousness.
Corin's attempt at defense though goes awry:
"We do not kill people arbitrarily," Corin said curtly. "We—"
But Strahan's laughter overrode his retort. "Oh, no?" the Ihlini asked. "Then what of the thirty-two innocent souls who burned to death in the Midden? Was that done with purpose?"
Ooof.
Because, well, yeah. That did happen. And the boys do wince at it. Particularly Hart, who knows himself the most responsible.
Responsible, maybe. A partial cause, yes. The boys should have known better than to go to the worst part of town. (And to be fair, as annoying as I find Hart, they're all guilty here. They didn't have to come with him.) But they didn't anticipate the racism they faced. They didn't anticipate things turning violent. They weren't the ones who turned it violent. The end result was tragic but no, it wasn't their fault, and it's not remotely similar to what Strahan does.
And Hart is the one given the more effective response:
"But we do not set about destroying an entire race," he answered flatly. "What of the plague, Strahan? Twenty years ago it nearly killed us all. What of the wars, Strahan? How many hundreds of years has Homana fought Solinde merely to stave off the Ihlini? What of all the trap-links and other sorcerous things designed to bring us down?"
There's also Ian's rape, Niall's mind control, and the boys's captivity too. These boys haven't done anything like that.
Strahan merely says that War requires harsh measures, and they'd fight as hard if they weren't blind.
"Yourselves," Strahan told him, looking from Corin to Hart to Brennan. "Once the Firstborn have come, we will be redundant. Ihlini and Cheysuli; the need for us is gone."
Brennan's disgust was plain. "I have heard that before." He thought of Tiernan and other similar sentiments. "It is idiocy, Strahan—why would the gods sentence us to death on the birth of other children?"
"It is the way of things." Strahan said. "When you breed a stallion and mare to improve existing bloodlines, you desire offspring combining the best of both. And then you breed get to get to fix the characteristics. It is the same with dogs, with sheep, with cattle . . . and one day, when you have the characteristics you want, you realize there is no need for the progenitors; they are obsolete. The new breed is much better." The light was odd on his face. "It is the same with people."
Corin laughed once. "You reduce the House of Homana to a collection of studs and mares."
a) It is good to finally see some argument against the prophecy. I myself have said that I'm not sure it's a great idea to bring back a demigod, or race of demigods, when you don't know if they'll be good or evil, friend or foe.
b) But Strahan's argument is ridiculous. The Cheysuli are deliberately attempting to genetically recreate their predecessors. But even if they're successful, that's only going to create ONE family. Admittedly, by the end of the series, the family is going to look more like a DNA strand than a tree, but the other side of that is...there really aren't many extraneous branches that will lead to more lines.
There aren't a lot of unaccounted for cousins. Meghan, maybe, but she's far enough back to lack most of the required blood. I don't want to spoil what happens to Niall's kids, but there's maybe one line that doesn't end up breeding into the Firstborn. (A set of girls that can't inherit, due to their sex.) It's always possible that they might end up breeding up the blood themselves in a few generations I suppose...maybe they could end up being a marriage clan.
But that's still pretty limited. Cynric is one dude. We have no idea if there'll be siblings at all. And he'll have to marry SOMEONE to breed up more. Maybe we'll get a few Ptolemic or Hapsburg generations after all. But eventually they're going to branch out again which will lead to more Old Blood within existing populations. And maybe more proto-Cheysuli/Ihlini branches.
Basically, I think it's a lot more likely and would be a lot more realistic for Strahan to fear the enslavement of his race, rather than the extinction of it.
3) That said, Corin...look at your family history. The studs and mares comparison is not undeserved.
As Strahan points out. That said, as I explained before, Strahan can't fucking do math.
"Look at your prophecy," Strahan snapped impatiently. "Are you blind to its commands?" Glibly contemptuous, he quoted. " 'One day a man of all blood shall unite, in peace, four warring realms and two magical races.' " He stared at them angrily. "Marry here, wed there, get the blood for the prophecy . . . look to no other kingdom because we need this one, to fulfill the prophecy." He shook his head in disgust. "A collection of studs and mares . . . what else do you think you are?"
None of them could answer.
Strahan nodded slightly. "You are all of you one of the final links in the prophecy. You combine the blood of three realms: Homana, Solinde, Atvia. You lack only Erinn, but children born of Brennan and Aileen will fulfill that portion, as well as children of Keely and Sean. And that leaves only the blood of the Ihlini." Black brows touched the circlet in an expression of delicate amusement. "The hardest feat of all, getting Cheysuli to lie with Ihlini."
Brennan's flesh went suddenly hot on his bones.
They DON'T lack Erinn. Lindir's mother, Shaine's first wife WAS ERINNISH. That's where the Old Blood supposedly came from, and while that's racist ass bullshit, if we're counting the Old Blood than the Erinnish counts too.
Rhiannon's kid should be Firstborn.
Speaking of.
"Of course," Strahan continued, "the precedent has been set. By Ian. The unspeakable was accomplished once—and then again." He looked at Brennan. "And yet an impediment exists. The child will not quite be a Firstborn, lacking some of the blood ... it will not quite be the human equivalent to fulfillment of the merging of power and bloodlines—but it will have a complement of powers greater than most of ours. And I will put it to good use in breeding it for my own."
I don't think it's on purpose, but there is something amazing about the day being saved because the villains can't do fucking math.
Corin asks if that means that Sidra's bastard is his. Well, Sidra says so. Strahan confirms: Rhiannon's child will marry his own once the genders are in balance. (He notes that Brennan probably won't freely participate again - he didn't "freely participate" the first time. It's a blatant rape by deception scenario, you ass. But Sidra can always have more children.)
Hart suggests he let them go then. They're not useful after all. Strahan notes that, to him, they're not. But the Seker/Asar-Suti wants them, so that it can control the realms.
Things get a bit non-sequitur when Hart asks why the Seker wants the realms. Strahan's all "that's what a god does." Corin challenges him with the idea that he himself might become a god."
It's a really weird story element, because it's never come up before and I don't really think it comes up again. I don't know if this genuinely IS Strahan's ambition or if Corin is projecting, or if the ambition is shared with Tynstar before him or Lochiel after him.
But when Corin asks if Asar-Suti knows what he wants, Strahan does shoot back with:
Strahan's eyes narrowed slightly, but his smile remained unblemished. "And does Brennan know how much you want Aileen?”
Ouch.
Corin slumps down. Brennan is bewildered. And Corin shows that he's as capable of side-stepping as his big brother:
"Aileen?" Brennan said blankly. Then he looked at Corin. "You want-—"
"He said you were unfit." Corin's tone was curt and characteristically defensive.
"Unfit! I? And you believed him?"
"Are you not?" Strahan asked.
You know, Corin, if you just admitted that you met Aileen and fell in love...your brothers would probably understand that.
Anyway, Brennan is offended. He's spent almost twenty-two years learning to rule after all. (It does occur to me that Aileen and Brennan...or Aileen and Corin for that matter, would be the first couple in this series where the woman is older than the man. Well, aside from Carillon and Electra, but Electra is evil so she doesn't really count.)
But well, here's the unfortunate part of a hidden shame. It never stays hidden forever:
"Are you not?" Strahan repeated. "Think back, my lord of Homana . . . think back to your fear."
Brennan's color faded.
"Aye," Strahan said. "Your fear of small, dark places—the terror of close confinement... the diminishment of the man who becomes nothing more than a beast." He smiled. "Do you think I have not seen it? Rhiannon told me of it, and I have watched you in your cell."
"Enough!" Hart shouted, seeing Brennan's eyes.
The Cheysuli are ableist as fuck when it comes to disability. Are they much better when it comes to mental health? We saw how Ceinn reacted to Gisella. We know that Ian treats his rape trauma with yearly cleansing.
Strahan makes his offer once more. Accept, and he'll remove the fear.
Brennan says no and:
"Then live in it again . . . show Corin how fit you are to rule." Strahan raised his hand and Brennan's world was changed.
He was small, so small, so tiny in the abyss of the world. He knelt on the ground and hugged himself, wrapping himself in his arms, trying to withstand the pain and fear of knowing himself alone.
The vastness amazed him. It made him insignificant, reduced him to obsolescence. Alone in the world he knelt on a vast stone plain, watching the world around him, and saw it begin to move.
—how it moved—
Like a sphincter squeezing closed, it began to move upon him. Fold upon fold, swallowed by itself. The world grew smaller and smaller and smaller, until he could put out his hands and touch it, and then it grew smaller still.
That's fucking evocative. And it keeps going. From the outside:
Brennan fell backward, rolling from one hip onto his spine. Cramped thighs spasmed and trembled. Jerking twisted tendons. His skull banged against the floor, released from the rigidity of his neck. He lay on the stone and shook, wet from the sweat of his fear.
Dimly he heard movement. But no one came to aid him.
"What kind of king," Strahan said, "fears confinement more than death? Fears it so much that it robs him of control?" He pointed slowly to Brennan's trembling body on the floor, "Do you, Corin, truly believe him fit to rule? Fit to hold the Lion? To sire children on Aileen?”
"Stop!" Corin shouted.
And Strahan senses his advantage.
Strahan ripped open the box, "Accept service with me, and I will make your brother whole!”
Sickened, Corin stared. "Oh—gods—stop—“
"You see what Brennan is—I can free him of that!”
"No more!" Corin cried.
"Take the Lion for me. Hold Homana for me. Take the woman for yourself.”
Corin clapped both his hands to his head. "Make him stop—"
Hart ends up being the one to fight his way to Strahan, who re-orients. He promises Hart that he'll give his brothers their lir. He'll make him whole, honored by the clan. Able to fly.
Then:
Hart wavered on his knees. "Ku'reshtin—"
"Take me," Corin shouted, "I will accept the service—"
"Corin—Corin, no—" Brennan tried to round the Gate.
Flame licked out, slapped him down, smashed him against the floor.
"Take me," Corin cried.
Hart threw himself at the Ihlini. Strahan fell heavily, landing on hip and elbow. A shower of sparks exploded from the Gate.
"He is forsworn!" Strahan shouted. "You heard what he said—"
That's not good!
But Hart actually gets a genuinely heroic action here:
Hart's hand was on the box. Runes blazed up and writhed, then circled the rectangular box in a blur of uncanny script. Faster, faster, until the blur ran off the wood and leaped onto Hart's remaining hand. He cried out in pain, but did not release the box.
Brennan, badly disoriented, tried to stand up and failed. Nearly senseless, he crawled slowly toward his brother.
Hart jerked the box from Strahan's grasp. Twisting, he turned back toward the Gate. "—my choice—" he gasped, and hurled it into the flames.
The loss was new again. He felt the sword blade come down, divide flesh, muscles, vessels, shear easily through bone. He saw the blood. Saw the severed hand. Saw Dar laughing at him.
Pain.
Hart screamed.
I can't believe I'm saying this, but well fucking done, Hart.
Brennan and Hart are seized, dragged away. Then things get a little kinky?
Strahan sat at the rim and laughed, one foot wreathed in icy Ihlini godfire. And then it crept up slowly, so slowly, to touch his knee, his thigh, his hip; caressed his genitals.
And exploded in ecstacy as it swallowed the rest of him, The fire died quickly before their astonished eyes. In its place was a delicate webwork of lavender lace, a lattice of living light that cloaked exposed flesh. Hands. Throat. Face. It even pooled in his mouth; licked out of nostrils as he breathed. Through it all, Strahan laughed.
...this probably explains a lot about the Ihlini.
Anyway, he banishes the silver cuff around Corin's hand. And then offers him the baptismal cup of Asar-Suti.
And:
Hart struggled impotently against the man who held him, "Corin, no—I threw it away—I threw it away—no need for this sacrifice—"
"Drink," Strahan said, and helped Corin hold the cup.
"Ku'reshtin!” Brennan shouted. "Did you do this for Aileen?"
"No." Corin said, "I do this for myself."
And drank of Asar-Suti.
Well. FUCK.
So the chapter ends with this very bad note.
That said, there is something I really like about this. Corin was always kind of the weak link here. And I teased it a few times in earlier chapters. But, while Corin does fall here, he doesn't do it out of ambition. Nor does he do it for Aileen. Not really. When he originally agreed, it was to save his brothers.
It's the best kind of tragedy, really. We have four chapters left to see what comes of it.