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i_read_whatLast time, we saw the end to the climactic battle. It was...pretty traumatic, all things considered. Now, we're at the last two chapters.
Let's see how it ends!
Ah, we're starting with Nysander's funeral. I see this will be a light and uplifting chapter indeed.
No, not really. I might dislike the guy, but his end was pretty horrifying.
Anyway, Alec is crying, Micum is covering his eyes, Thero's got tears streaming down, but Seregil is unable to weep and...oh boy.
Okay, well, I do remember this bit. And in some ways, I feel guilty groaning about it because Seregil having to kill his father figure is genuinely traumatic and horrifying. It makes complete sense that he's not okay.
It's just...you know. NO ONE should be okay right now. And it really does seem like one person's "not okay" is going be the focus to the exclusion of everyone else's. It's inevitable, I suppose, to some extent as Seregil is one of the main characters.
But I can't help notice that another of the main characters was tortured horrifically for five chapters, non-consecutively, and exactly how much focus is that going to get from this point on?
Well, you'll see.
And of course, it's not fair to play trauma olympics, but as a reader, I basically was a witness to those five chapters. And *I* feel like I'm owed a bit more vicarious comfort there. Otherwise, Flewelling could have just glossed over the details, like she had Alec's first torture experience.
But complaints about character focus aside, Seregil's depression and apathy are very well done here.
With the solemnity of the funeral circle broken, people began to drift away. The fire would burn long into the night, reducing skin, bone, and wood alike to a fine ash for the tide and winds to scatter.
Turning, Seregil limped slowly up to the white stone and sat there waiting for some release.
None came; the emptiness he’d been plunged into from the moment he’d accepted Nysander’s final charge still enveloped him, leaving him isolated, deadened inside. He could see Alec and the others gathered around Micum, a knot of shared comfort against the oncoming night.
He should be with them, he knew, but somehow he couldn’t move. Sinking his head into his hands, he remained where he was, alone in the shadows where Nysander had stood awaiting his moment just hours before.
Some time later, he heard the sound of someone climbing up the rocks toward him. Looking up, he was surprised to see that it was Thero.
(Rhal's men, by the way, had seen the camp's fire and used it as a signal to help with the attack.)
Thero and Seregil are good choices for this moment, of course, as they both loved, and were failed by Nysander.
Worn and battered, dressed in borrowed clothes, he bore little resemblance to the prim young wizard Seregil had sparred with for so many years. Thero stared down at the pyre below for a moment before speaking.
“I wasted too many years being jealous of you,” he said at last, still not looking at Seregil. “It hurt him, and I’d take it back if I could.”
Seregil nodded slowly, sensing that there was more to be said between them but not knowing how to begin. Instead, he asked, “Will Micum be all right?”
I've said this before, but I really do appreciate how nuanced Flewelling has made their dynamic. Thero isn't the bully. Seregil isn't the victim. They're brothers, in a sense, both jealous of each other, and they're both equally capable of being dicks to the other. And I appreciate that Thero, essentially, is given the opportunity to be the bigger man here and say what he needs to out loud.
Thero explains that he's stopped the poison, but Micum is likely to lose the leg. Or, even if he keeps it, it probably won't be much use. Seregil notes that Micum's lucky to be alive at all. And true, but it's understandable if a man who is newly disabled had some emotional reaction to that.
Can we see it? Can he get some comfort for it?
Hm.
Seregil does, awkwardly, thank Thero for helping Alec. Thero gives a curt nod and leaves. It suits them, but I'm glad the series continues, because it is interesting to see their dynamic change and grow now that they're both out from under their father's shadow.
As for Micum and Alec:
Micum saw Thero leave. “You go up to him,” he croaked, looking up at Alec with fever bright eyes. “He’s right,” Beka said, raising a cup of drugged wine to her father’s lips. “It’s not proper, him being alone now.”
“I know. I’ve been thinking that all afternoon,” Alec whispered miserably. “But I don’t know what to do for him, what to say. We all loved Nysander, but not like he did. And then he had to be the one to—“
Reaching out, Micum closed a hot, dry hand over Alec’s. “His heart is broken, Alec. Follow your own.”
It probably seems like I'm making mountains out of molehills here. And that's true. I like Stalking Darkness a lot, and this really doesn't change that. I'd still recommend this series to fans of fantasy adventure, as long as they're not put off by the occasional foray into darkness.
But Micum is man who's fought all his life. His pride has always been in his physicality and his ability to protect and provide. That's going to change now.
Alec is a seventeen year old boy who spent the last few weeks being brutalized mentally and physically, and he's been free for all of a day.
No mention of either of those things. Just Seregil, Seregil, Seregil. And while I agree that it's in character for both protector Micum and stoic Alec to not acknowledge their own hurts, it seems like it'd be appropriate to acknowledge each others. Even if it's as simple as "they understood each other's pain, but were more worried about Seregil's lack of reaction".
So Alec goes up to Seregil, he takes off his cloak and drapes it over his friend's shoulders. And honestly, this really is well written:
Feeling desperately awkward, Alec rested a hand on Seregil’s shoulder, then slid an arm around him. He’d half expected Seregil to shrug it off, or finally weep, but not the black waves of emptiness he felt, leaning there beside him. Something intrinsic in Seregil had fled or died; it was like touching a statue, a scarecrow.
A fresh trickle of tears inched down Alec’s cheeks, but he didn’t move, just stayed there, hoping Seregil would draw some comfort from his nearness. His tongue felt like a dead thing in his mouth. Words were dead leaves lodged in his throat. What was there to say?
They stay like that for a while, before Seregil finally apologizes. He's sorry for everything. Alec notes that no one blames him, he did what he had to. And we get into the part that probably stings Seregil the most as he asks what choice he had.
Fair. It might have been nice for Nysander to WARN him first.
So they set sail. When they reach their next port (Nanta), they rest for two days. Beka finds a drysian for Micum and Seregil's wounds. She then prepares to depart with her troops. She's still under orders after all.
You know, Beka has just found out that there was a massively large scope to these events. She's seen a battle she's had no way to prepare for. She's seen her father and friends injured and she can't stay with them. It might be nice to see a bit of that too.
Now I really am being unfair, as there wouldn't be time for all these characters to have the kind of focus I'm suggesting. I'll stop.
Also, I'm wrong. Beka does get a very nice goodbye with her father. She doesn't like to leave him, but duty calls. Micum tells her that he's proud of her. Beka spares a moment of regret - she'd always hoped that once she got some experience under her belt, Nysander would recruit her as well. Micum reassures her: there'll always be enough trouble to keep them busy. It is, of course, Seregil that he's worried about.
Beka nodded. “And Alec, too. You can see what it’s doing to him, having Seregil so silent and sad. What’s happened with them?”
Micum lay back against the bolsters with a sigh. “Poor Alec. He cares so much for Seregil he doesn’t know what to do about it, and now this. And Seregil’s hurting so deep I don’t know if any of us can help him.”
...I mean, it might be nice to be worried about Alec in his own right, not just in his capacity as caretaker for Seregil.
FIVE CHAPTERS. NON-CONSECUTIVE. Why did I have to read all those extreme and disturbing details if we're going to act like they didn't happen?
Seregil and Beka get a nice goodbye too. And Alec and Beka too.
“Take them to Watermead, both of them,” she whispered against his cheek. “Stay there as long as you need to. Poor Nysander, I can’t believe he’d ever have wanted things to turn out like this.”
“Me neither,” Alec said, still holding her by the arms as he stepped back.
He looks so much older, Beka thought, seeing the depths of sadness in his eyes.
And yet again, Alec is caretaker. It seems like he always is, on some level. And while I appreciate that to some extent, it sometimes aggravates me. I think it's because of the age difference.
The age difference is always a bit of an issue here. Granting that, being a floofy elf, Seregil's mental age doesn't match his chronological one, there is still a massive gulf of years, perspective and experience. And that's fine. There's nothing wrong with that, as long as everyone's a consenting adult. And this being fiction, even if there are some ethical gray areas, it's not actually real. So we can give it a bit of leeway where we might not in the real world.
But I do feel like we're supposed to see this as a healthy dynamic of near-equals. And it seems to me like Flewelling is trying to portray that by really emphasizing Alec's maturity, stoicism, and ability to provide care. And by not really addressing the big elephant in the room.
It's fine, I guess, but I find myself comparing it to a book with a similar age difference that I've reviewed here: Bardic Voices, by Mercedes Lackey.
If anything, the age difference is more profound there. Rune is either sixteen or eighteen depending on how we massage the timeline. Talaysen is, at youngest, mid-thirties. Possibly he's older. He's the leader of the entire Free Bards. This is not an equal pairing. It might never be.
But Lackey doesn't pretend that it is. If anything, she puts a spotlight on it. Rune, as young people does, dismisses the concern. But Talaysen doesn't. Talaysen is always aware that he's the older and more powerful partner. And he consciously tries to mitigate the potential for abuse.
Sex columnist Dan Savage has a rule about age gaps called the campfire rule. And while the man has some issues, undoubtedly, I always thought this one worth keeping. The idea is that, just like a camper at a campsite, you have the responsibility to clean up after yourself and not leave the place damaged. A person is not a campsite, but still: if you date someone significantly younger and less experienced than you, then you have the responsibility to treat them well. Whether the relationship is temporary or permanent, it's your job to make sure that the person is in as good a state mentally and physically when the relationship ends as they had been when it started.
Talaysen's awareness of the power dynamics, Rune's comparative vulnerability, and his conscious and deliberate way of trying to address them make me optimistic. IF they were to separate, or if Talaysen were to die before her, I think Rune would be as healthy mentally and physically as when they were together.
Seregil and Alec...eh. Seregil's a good guy, he is. And he's a decent mentor, usually. Sometimes he seems to forget he's dealing with someone young and inexperienced, and has caused distress. But mostly he means well. But, and maybe it's just because the narrative isn't as blatant about addressing the topic, I'm not sure that Seregil is aware of this. It makes me concerned.
So anyway, Alec brings Seregil a gift from town: it's a harp. And...maybe it helps a bit.
Micum slipped into a peaceful doze and Alec sat quietly in the corner, watching Seregil’s face as he played on through the afternoon. His expression betrayed little. The mantle of silence remained in place.
Seregil’s spirits seemed to rally somewhat during the voyage back to Rhiminee. He spoke more freely, though not of Nysander or the Helm.
Never of those. He walked the deck with Alec and Thero, ate sparingly with neither relish nor complaint, and played the harp by the hour, covering his own pain a little by easing Micum’s.
Micum and Thero took heart at these small changes but Alec, who shared a pallet with Seregil on the floor of Rhal’s cabin, knew how he trembled and groaned in his sleep each night. An intuition uncomfortably like the one that had dragged him back to the Cockerel that fateful night kept him by Seregil’s side as much as possible. The man he’d known for so long was gone, leaving in his stead a quiet stranger with distance behind his eyes.
Again, the depression is very well done. I too am worried about Seregil. I just...wish there was some acknowledgment that the others are in pain too. Heck, I'd be happy if Alec's narration maybe attributed some of his anxiousness over Seregil's well being to watching the man DIE.
It would be very easy to keep this same general flow, and even the same focus on Seregil's mental state, while acknowledging the rest. It's in character for Alec to repress and focus all his attention on Seregil. So...why not say so?
And again, we get a lovely scene with Micum and Alec. Alec is distressed and Micum asks what's wrong. And, of course, it's all about Seregil. Not even an "are YOU okay"? moment.
Anyway, they finally make it back to Rhiminee. Magyana is waiting. She knows Nysander is dead.
“I know, my dear,” she murmured, embracing him. “Nysander and I said our farewells the day I sent him across to find you. He suspected that he would not return, and asked me to tell all of you not to grieve for him, but to forgive him if you can.”
“Forgive him?” gasped Thero, standing rigidly beside Micum’s litter. “What could there be to forgive?” Magyana did not answer, but her gaze stole briefly back to Seregil, who’d turned away. Alec’s eyes locked briefly with hers and in that instant the mutual understanding ran deep. “It was also Nysander’s wish, Thero, that you should complete your training with me,” she continued.
I mean, Thero, you actually do have a fair bit you can be angry at him for. But it's understandable that grief puts rose colored glasses on you.
Poor Thero goes pale and sinks to his knees. Aw. He can't go back to Oreska. He blames himself: he'd told Ylinestra about Nysander's walks and studies. He didn't realize what her questions really meant. And he doesn't think the Council would want him back.
But Nysander DID do something for his pupil after all. Both he and Magyana are members of the High Council, and Nysander talked to them before he left. Thero can return.
That's good. I could wish that she'd take the moment to say it's not his fault. But this is just as good:
Cupping his chin, she gently raised his anguished face. “I would be honored if you would accept me as your teacher, Thero. In truth, it would be a great comfort to have you with me, and to see the education of my friend’s last pupil completed. It would be the greatest honor to his memory.”
So Thero gets as happy an ending as possible.
Rhal also exits stage left here, off to go privateering in the aftermath.
Everyone sets off for Wheel Street. Valerius comes to check on Micum. Thero gets some more indirect praise here, as Valerius says that he might have saved Micum's leg. He definitely saved Micum's life. Seregil and Alec get kicked out so he can work, and they walk through town.
Seregil has a moment here:
“Micum? I don’t think he will,” Alec replied, adding without much conviction, “Valerius wouldn’t have made us leave if he thought he would.”
“I don’t think I could stand to lose him, too,” Seregil said, betraying more emotion than he’d shown in days. But before Alec could respond he was off again, heading west.
They’d gone several blocks in silence before Alec realized where it was that they’d been headed all along.
Of course, they're at the Cockerel. Hm. Bets on whether or not there'll be any acknowledgement that Alec had a very traumatic experience here? Or will it be all about Seregil's trauma and loss?
Seregil looked equally bereft. “It was just starting to burn when I left. Cilia was only two years old when I bought it.”
Alec shuddered, hating Vargul Ashnazai all the more for giving him such memories of her and the others. “Do you think their ghosts are here?”
Seregil kicked at a bit of cracked stone. “If they did linger, you gave them peace the moment you strangled that bastard.”
Actually, that's pretty good. Okay, Flewelling. I'll give you that one. But, um, it'd be nice to have a little more than a line.
Baby Luthas, by the way, is with the drysians. And there's another survivor...
Seregil broke off as a small form bounded up out of the cellar hole with a loud, familiar trill.
Purring frantically, Ruetha went back and forth between them, twining herself around their ankles and arching to have her ears scratched.
They stared down at the cat for a moment in mutual amazement, then Seregil scooped her up with shaking hands. She butted him under the chin with her head.
Ruetha, apparently, was prone to disappearing when Seregil wasn't around. It saved her life.
So they go back to Micum. He's asleep, but doing very well. Young Elsbet is with him. His leg is intact, and he'll be able to ride again in time. They're heading home in the morning. The chapter ends with Seregil wondering what sort of reception he'll get from Micum's wife.
--
So our last chapter:
We start with Illia and Kari. Illia's announcing the riders. Kari sees Seregil and Alec and that Micum isn't riding with them. That...seems worse than giving her a warning actually.
But fortunately, Seregil is quick to explain that Micum's in the carriage.
We get to fill Kari in and...
“Thank the Maker!” Kari exclaimed, embracing him. “Oh, Seregil, I know about the Cockerel. I’m so sorry. Those poor good people.”
He returned the embrace stiffly and she stepped back to look into his face again. “What is it? There’s something else, isn’t there?”
“You’ve had no news, then?”
“Magyana sent word at dawn that you’d returned, that’s all.”
Seregil turned away, his face disturbingly expressionless as he looked out over the new green of the meadow. “Nysander’s dead.”
Kari raised a hand to her mouth, too stunned to speak.
“That nice old man who did magic tricks for me on Sakor’s Day?” asked Illia. She danced around them impatiently, her face puckering to cry. “Why is he dead? Did a bad man kill him?”
Seregil swallowed hard, his face still grim. “He did something very brave. Very difficult and very brave. And he died.”
So what does Kari get filled in on:
1) Cockerel - Seregil's loss.
2) Nysander - Seregil's loss again.
3) Illia gets a chance to say something that innocently hurts Seregil's feelings.
There was, by the way, one line about Micum right before this where Seregil says he's in the carriage, wounded but will be fine.
God forbid Kari ask about THAT.
She notes, of course, that Seregil seems too composed. But then, FINALLY, we get the reunion with Micum:
Haggard as he was, he greeted her with a rakish grin as she flew into his outstretched arms.
“I may be home for good this time, love,” he said ruefully, patting his bandaged leg propped before him on the carriage seat.
“Make me no idle promises, you wandering scoundrel!” Kari gasped, wiping away tears of relief. “Where’s Alec?”
We do, actually, get a moment for Alec's pain.
Kari held his hand a moment longer, seeing what Beka had seen; he was no longer the boy he’d been when he first came to Watermead. Whatever had happened to him through these past weeks, it had stripped the innocence from him, and who knew what else besides?
...don't get used to it.
They also have Seregil's cat with them. That part makes me happy.
Also, actually, apparently Kari has a surprise for them!
Kari smiled to herself, but held her peace until Alec and Seregil had helped Micum into the main hall. When he was settled comfortably in front of the fire, she drew Elsbet aside, then whispered to Illia. The little girl disappeared into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a plump, curly-headed baby in her arms.
“Father, look what Valerius brought us. Isn’t he pretty?”
It's baby Luthas. Apparently, Valerius brought him a few days after the guys left and asked Kari to foster him. Kari figured Cilla would want him there rather than raised by strangers "who knew nothing of his people" and she figures Micum wouldn't mind.
He doesn't, though he does have the wise husband inclination to ask if she'll be up to it, given their own incoming offspring. Kari scoffs. With the older girls leaving the nest, she's got too much time on her hands.
Ah but of course:
She looked up at Seregil, standing alone by the hearth. “When he’s old enough, I’ll tell him how you saved his life,” she added.
“It might be better if he didn’t know,” Seregil replied, watching Alec and Illia fussing over the child.
“I’ll leave it to you, then,” Kari said, catching another glimpse of the desperate unhappiness she’d sensed in him on the road.
I'm really not being fair, yet again. I read many books that are more over the top with the main character's angst (paging Janny Wurts.)
But Seregil's not the ONLY main character. And while I get that he's not really in a state to be concerned about anyone else, the one-sided-ness is bothersome.
Kari does get filled in on what happened with Nysander, of course:
No wonder Seregil’s so lost,” she whispered, stroking her husband’s strong, freckled arm. “How could Nysander have demanded such a thing of him?”
“I don’t completely understand it all myself,” Micum admitted sadly. “But I do believe Nysander was right in thinking that no one but Seregil would have the heart to strike him down when the time came. I couldn’t have done it, and I don’t think Alec could have, either.”
“We forget sometimes how cruel the gods can be!” Kari said bitterly. “To turn love to murder like that.”
“You’d have to have been there,” Micum said, staring up into the shadows cast by the fire on the hearth. “If you could have seen Nysander’s face—It wasn’t murder. It was an act of mercy, and love.”
Of course it was. But again, Kari doesn't get to express any of this sympathy or pity on page for anyone else. Not Thero, Not Micum, Not Alec. Not even Beka.
So weeks go on, we hear a bit about the war: the Plenimarians are held back in east Mycena, but they're ruling the seas in their black ships.
I do rather love that the war isn't ended just because the climax of the book happened. Our main characters are done (for now) but life continues.
Kari flourished with the land and her great belly swayed proudly before her as she went briskly about her daily work and the welcome tasks of summer. But she continued to worry about Seregil, though the only outward sign of trouble was his unusual quietness.
She knew Micum and Alec felt the same concern, yet none of them could see a way to help him.
He sought no solace from any of them, to be sure, but kept himself busy around the estate. Micum had made it clear that he and Alec were welcome to live at Watermead for as long as they wished, and Seregil seemed content to do so. From Alec, Kari learned that he’d sworn never to set foot in Rhiminee again.
Yep.
Both well-written and FRUSTRATING in its single focus. Wurts might hammer on about Arithon's massive angst of angstiness, but she'll generally at least mention that Dakar has a headache at the same time.
Oh, but hey:
Alec, who’d endured the most abuse of any of them, was the quickest to recover. Farm labor agreed with him and he quickly grew brown and cheerful again. Kari saw him watching Seregil, however, trying to gauge the inner turmoil that underlay his friend’s long silences and distant eyes.
At night they shared the bed in the guest chamber, but Kari could tell that no comfort was being found there either.
Convenient, isn't it, that the most abused is recovering the fastest, without any need for acknowledgment or comfort.
In character, sure, but it'd be nice to hear about Kari or Micum giving him a hug or something occasionally. But nah, that'd get in the way of Seregil worrying time.
So now we get a scene with Kari and Alec. It's a morning, just before dawn. Kari's restless and decides to make tea. Alec's already there, tea boiling and with pears from the trees outside. And...of course, this becomes an excuse to share their worries about Seregil.
Seregil has been writing. A lot. He won't let anyone see. He also hasn't been nagging Alec about gloves. And I mean, it's nice, elegant foreshadowing. Especially when Alec admits he's been thinking about something Seregil said about his exile: namely that the others didn't make it.
Kari is surprised Seregil shared that with Alec. Alec is afraid that Seregil has fallen into despair finally. And well, as for the relationship:
“Then keep good watch over him, Alec. You two share the same blood. Perhaps in his sadness he’s forgotten that.”
Alec sighed heavily. “He’s forgotten more than that. The day he found me again in Plenimar, something happened, but now he won’t—” Kari flinched suddenly as a sharp stab of pain lanced down one leg.
I know certain folks were worried about Alec backsliding. This...doesn't seem like that. That said, the pain? Well, Kari's very heavily pregnant and she's alone with a seventeen year old boy.
Of course, she's going into labor. That said, Kari's old hat and knows exactly what to do. She tells Alec that she's craving some of the new cheese and sends him to fetch some. Fortunately though he has to come back for a bowl or something.
Kari's less calm now. The baby's coming faster than expected. She's too heavy for him to carry, but he gets her inside. Elsbet and the female servants come quickly. Seregil offers to get a midwife, but Kari says she and "her women" can handle it and sends them to stay with Micum.
Micum is a little anxious - Kari's not young anymore. Seregil is reassuring (though looking a bit green himself) pointing out that it's not that early. She'll be okay.
And, eventually:
Oh, Master Micum!” she cried, wiping her hands on a towel. “He’s the sweetest little redheaded mite you ever saw. And strong, too, for an early babe. He’s sucking already, nice as you please. It was Dalna’s own mercy she brought him out early or she’d have had a worse time of it than she did, poor lamb. Give us a moment to clear up the bed and then come in, all of you. She wants you all!”
Aw. There's a happy family moment, though Alec "least experienced in such matters" thinks Kari looks dreadful and ill. Heh. But it's happy and emotional. And when it comes time to name the baby they decide that their original plan, to call him after Kari's father, doesn't work.
They have Seregil name the baby instead. Aw. The baby is Gherin, Aurenfaie for "early blessing". Alec is optimistic as Seregil finally seems peaceful.
Which of course means it's time for the foreshadowing to roost:
Lying there in the moonlight, Seregil stroked Alec’s fair hair and summoned the memory of the kiss they’d shared that day in Plenimar.
Even that had been sucked pale and flat.
Since Nysander’s death all his emotions seemed to have fled to a distance, felt dimly, as if through a pane of thick glass.
It was too late now, too late for anything. He was too empty. Covering Alec’s hand with his own, he watched the stars wheel toward morning, thinking of Gherin.
He's been stuck in limbo for a while, but the baby is a sign. Looking down into the face of Micum’s tiny new son today, he’d suddenly felt that the sign he’d been waiting for had been given at last. With this last thread of the past tied off, he could go.
Yep. I'm not going to mock or bitch about this, because I do think it's well done. It's sad and selfish in the way that suicide often is. Though it's not really clear if Seregil outright intends to commit suicide or just drift off into the horizon. Either way.
He leaves scrolls and jewels for the kids. And then goes to look dreamily at Alec for a bit, thinking that if Alec so much as opens an eye, he'll be lost.
He leaves a letter and documents making Alec the heir to all his holdings. He wishes him goodbye and starts riding out.
We switch scenes to Alec, who wakes up at the brush of a hand. He glimpses Nysander for a moment, who tells him to "go after him".
Alec dresses, finds the scrolls, and goes after him. Seregil is, of course, hard to find, but Alec realizes he'd headed up the streambed. He rides after him, to find Seregil sitting motionless in a saddle.
Alec realizes that he's not just scared and frantic. He's fucking pissed off. And you know what? About time.
“Wait—” Seregil called, but Alec ignored him. Digging his heels into Patch’s sides, he charged Seregil, bearing down on him before he could turn his own horse out of the way. The animals collided and Cynril reared, throwing Seregil off into the water. Alec leapt down and waded in after him.
Grabbing Seregil by the front of his tunic, he hauled him to his knees and shook the crumpled note in his face.
“What’s this supposed to be?” he yelled. “‘All I have in Rhiminee is yours now’? What is this?”
Seregil tries to explain that he decided it would be better for everyone if he just went away.
Bad choice of words:
“You decided. You decided?” Furious, Alec grabbed Seregil with both hands and shook him. The wrinkled parchment drifted across the pool, hung a moment against a stone, and spun away unnoticed down the stream. “I followed you over half the earth to Rhiminee for no other reason than you asked me to! I saved your damn life twice before we even got there and how many times since? I stood with you against Mardus and all the rest. But now, after moping around all summer, you decide you’re better off without me?”
Color flared in Seregil’s gaunt face. “I never meant for you to take it that way. Bilairy’s Balls, Alec, you saw what happened at the Cockerel. That was my fault. Mine! And it was only thanks to Ashnazai’s twisted vanity that you didn’t end up dead with them. Micum’s crippled for life, in case you didn’t notice, lucky to be alive. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve almost gotten him killed before? And Nysander—Let’s not forget what I did for him!”
I mean, on one hand, realistic and a good portrayal of grief and depression. On the other, way to make everyone else's tragedies about YOU, Seregil.
I can be both sympathetic and bitch. I am a creature of duality.
Alec shouts that Nysander sent him. That gets a reaction. Alec wants to know when Seregil will forgive himself, and then asks the real armor piercing question: when will Seregil forgive Nysander?
...and that's fair, of course. Because setting your older adopted son to kill you is a fucking dick move, Andy.
Seregil FINALLY gets to shed some tears, in his anger. Because Nysander should have told him. And damn right, he'd have tried to stop Nysander. And it makes a lot of sense really. Seregil has never been one to deny his own pain. He might not share it, but he acknowledges it. Alec might get hung up on expressing his grief and guilt and sorrow (and in a few books, we might actually see something about that...), but Seregil's not the sort.
But anger? Yeah, I can see Seregil trying like hell to block out that anger.
Alec notes that if Seregil had stopped Nysander, they'd all have failed. And that Nysander must be grateful: Seregil was the only one who loved him enough not to hesitate.
And this is a really nice scene:
“All these weeks—” Seregil shrugged helplessly. “You’re right, right about everything. But why can’t I feel it? I can’t feel anything anymore! I’m floundering around in a black fog. I look at the rest of you, see you healing, going on. I want to, but I can’t!”
“Just like I couldn’t make myself jump that time at Kassarie’s keep?” Seregil let out a small, choked laugh. “I guess so.” “So let me help you, the way you helped me then,” Alec persisted. Seregil wiped his nose on his sodden sleeve. “As I recall, I threw you off the roof into a gorge.” “Fine, if that’s what it takes to show you that I’m not about to let you slink away like some old dog going off to die.”
The guilty look that crossed his friend’s face told Alec his worst fears had been correct. “I’m not letting you go,” he said again, gripping Seregil’s sleeve for emphasis.
Seregil asserts that he can't stay here. Fine, Alec's coming with him. And well...
I love everyone there like my own family, but not—” Alec broke off, feeling his face go warm.
“But not what?” Seregil turned and brushed a clump of damp hair back from Alec’s face, studying his expression.
Alec forced himself to meet Seregil’s questioning gaze squarely. “Not as much as I love you.”
FINALLY.
Seregil gets his own:
Seregil looked at him for a moment, grey eyes still sad. “I love you, too. More than I’ve loved anyone for a long time. But you’re so young and—” He spread his hands and sighed. “It just didn’t seem right.”
And hey, for a brief second:
Seregil looked out over the pond again. “‘Father, brother, friend, and lover.””
“What?” A coldness passed over Alec’s heart; Mardus had spoken almost those same words when asking about his relationship to Seregil.
Some acknowledgment of trauma? Maybe?
Seregil explains about the Oracle, and well...
“I know.” Catching Seregil off guard, Alec leaned forward and pressed his lips to Seregil’s with the same mix of awkwardness and determination he’d felt the first time.
But when he felt Seregil’s arms slip around him in a welcoming embrace, the confusion that had haunted him through the winter cleared like fog before a changing wind.
Aw. And Seregil tries to be a Talaysen style lover here by telling Alec that anything they do, they'll do with honor. And he'll be Alec's friend first, even if Alec takes a hundred wives or lovers later.
*sigh*
Well, he's trying. A more insightful person might keep in mind that Alec's still fairly traditionally moral, and would perhaps tailor his example more into something about not wanting to continue with a romantic/sexual relationship than a theoretical polyamory that would likely never suit him. But Seregil is fairly young himself. So points for effort.
Anyway, the scene is very sweet, and interrupted by a pissed of Micum on horseback. Ah, so he did learn to ride again. Might have been nice to see that. Sorry. Sorry.
Anyway, he says he doesn't know whether to kiss him or kick his ass. Seregil says Alec beat him to both. Micum thinks it's about time.
So we fast forward and it's time to say goodbye. The boys are headed north to Mycena. Both Micum and Kari note that Seregil is looking better now. Sex endorphins probably. They gallop off and the story ends here.
The Verdict will be coming soon.
Let's see how it ends!
Ah, we're starting with Nysander's funeral. I see this will be a light and uplifting chapter indeed.
No, not really. I might dislike the guy, but his end was pretty horrifying.
Anyway, Alec is crying, Micum is covering his eyes, Thero's got tears streaming down, but Seregil is unable to weep and...oh boy.
Okay, well, I do remember this bit. And in some ways, I feel guilty groaning about it because Seregil having to kill his father figure is genuinely traumatic and horrifying. It makes complete sense that he's not okay.
It's just...you know. NO ONE should be okay right now. And it really does seem like one person's "not okay" is going be the focus to the exclusion of everyone else's. It's inevitable, I suppose, to some extent as Seregil is one of the main characters.
But I can't help notice that another of the main characters was tortured horrifically for five chapters, non-consecutively, and exactly how much focus is that going to get from this point on?
Well, you'll see.
And of course, it's not fair to play trauma olympics, but as a reader, I basically was a witness to those five chapters. And *I* feel like I'm owed a bit more vicarious comfort there. Otherwise, Flewelling could have just glossed over the details, like she had Alec's first torture experience.
But complaints about character focus aside, Seregil's depression and apathy are very well done here.
With the solemnity of the funeral circle broken, people began to drift away. The fire would burn long into the night, reducing skin, bone, and wood alike to a fine ash for the tide and winds to scatter.
Turning, Seregil limped slowly up to the white stone and sat there waiting for some release.
None came; the emptiness he’d been plunged into from the moment he’d accepted Nysander’s final charge still enveloped him, leaving him isolated, deadened inside. He could see Alec and the others gathered around Micum, a knot of shared comfort against the oncoming night.
He should be with them, he knew, but somehow he couldn’t move. Sinking his head into his hands, he remained where he was, alone in the shadows where Nysander had stood awaiting his moment just hours before.
Some time later, he heard the sound of someone climbing up the rocks toward him. Looking up, he was surprised to see that it was Thero.
(Rhal's men, by the way, had seen the camp's fire and used it as a signal to help with the attack.)
Thero and Seregil are good choices for this moment, of course, as they both loved, and were failed by Nysander.
Worn and battered, dressed in borrowed clothes, he bore little resemblance to the prim young wizard Seregil had sparred with for so many years. Thero stared down at the pyre below for a moment before speaking.
“I wasted too many years being jealous of you,” he said at last, still not looking at Seregil. “It hurt him, and I’d take it back if I could.”
Seregil nodded slowly, sensing that there was more to be said between them but not knowing how to begin. Instead, he asked, “Will Micum be all right?”
I've said this before, but I really do appreciate how nuanced Flewelling has made their dynamic. Thero isn't the bully. Seregil isn't the victim. They're brothers, in a sense, both jealous of each other, and they're both equally capable of being dicks to the other. And I appreciate that Thero, essentially, is given the opportunity to be the bigger man here and say what he needs to out loud.
Thero explains that he's stopped the poison, but Micum is likely to lose the leg. Or, even if he keeps it, it probably won't be much use. Seregil notes that Micum's lucky to be alive at all. And true, but it's understandable if a man who is newly disabled had some emotional reaction to that.
Can we see it? Can he get some comfort for it?
Hm.
Seregil does, awkwardly, thank Thero for helping Alec. Thero gives a curt nod and leaves. It suits them, but I'm glad the series continues, because it is interesting to see their dynamic change and grow now that they're both out from under their father's shadow.
As for Micum and Alec:
Micum saw Thero leave. “You go up to him,” he croaked, looking up at Alec with fever bright eyes. “He’s right,” Beka said, raising a cup of drugged wine to her father’s lips. “It’s not proper, him being alone now.”
“I know. I’ve been thinking that all afternoon,” Alec whispered miserably. “But I don’t know what to do for him, what to say. We all loved Nysander, but not like he did. And then he had to be the one to—“
Reaching out, Micum closed a hot, dry hand over Alec’s. “His heart is broken, Alec. Follow your own.”
It probably seems like I'm making mountains out of molehills here. And that's true. I like Stalking Darkness a lot, and this really doesn't change that. I'd still recommend this series to fans of fantasy adventure, as long as they're not put off by the occasional foray into darkness.
But Micum is man who's fought all his life. His pride has always been in his physicality and his ability to protect and provide. That's going to change now.
Alec is a seventeen year old boy who spent the last few weeks being brutalized mentally and physically, and he's been free for all of a day.
No mention of either of those things. Just Seregil, Seregil, Seregil. And while I agree that it's in character for both protector Micum and stoic Alec to not acknowledge their own hurts, it seems like it'd be appropriate to acknowledge each others. Even if it's as simple as "they understood each other's pain, but were more worried about Seregil's lack of reaction".
So Alec goes up to Seregil, he takes off his cloak and drapes it over his friend's shoulders. And honestly, this really is well written:
Feeling desperately awkward, Alec rested a hand on Seregil’s shoulder, then slid an arm around him. He’d half expected Seregil to shrug it off, or finally weep, but not the black waves of emptiness he felt, leaning there beside him. Something intrinsic in Seregil had fled or died; it was like touching a statue, a scarecrow.
A fresh trickle of tears inched down Alec’s cheeks, but he didn’t move, just stayed there, hoping Seregil would draw some comfort from his nearness. His tongue felt like a dead thing in his mouth. Words were dead leaves lodged in his throat. What was there to say?
They stay like that for a while, before Seregil finally apologizes. He's sorry for everything. Alec notes that no one blames him, he did what he had to. And we get into the part that probably stings Seregil the most as he asks what choice he had.
Fair. It might have been nice for Nysander to WARN him first.
So they set sail. When they reach their next port (Nanta), they rest for two days. Beka finds a drysian for Micum and Seregil's wounds. She then prepares to depart with her troops. She's still under orders after all.
You know, Beka has just found out that there was a massively large scope to these events. She's seen a battle she's had no way to prepare for. She's seen her father and friends injured and she can't stay with them. It might be nice to see a bit of that too.
Now I really am being unfair, as there wouldn't be time for all these characters to have the kind of focus I'm suggesting. I'll stop.
Also, I'm wrong. Beka does get a very nice goodbye with her father. She doesn't like to leave him, but duty calls. Micum tells her that he's proud of her. Beka spares a moment of regret - she'd always hoped that once she got some experience under her belt, Nysander would recruit her as well. Micum reassures her: there'll always be enough trouble to keep them busy. It is, of course, Seregil that he's worried about.
Beka nodded. “And Alec, too. You can see what it’s doing to him, having Seregil so silent and sad. What’s happened with them?”
Micum lay back against the bolsters with a sigh. “Poor Alec. He cares so much for Seregil he doesn’t know what to do about it, and now this. And Seregil’s hurting so deep I don’t know if any of us can help him.”
...I mean, it might be nice to be worried about Alec in his own right, not just in his capacity as caretaker for Seregil.
FIVE CHAPTERS. NON-CONSECUTIVE. Why did I have to read all those extreme and disturbing details if we're going to act like they didn't happen?
Seregil and Beka get a nice goodbye too. And Alec and Beka too.
“Take them to Watermead, both of them,” she whispered against his cheek. “Stay there as long as you need to. Poor Nysander, I can’t believe he’d ever have wanted things to turn out like this.”
“Me neither,” Alec said, still holding her by the arms as he stepped back.
He looks so much older, Beka thought, seeing the depths of sadness in his eyes.
And yet again, Alec is caretaker. It seems like he always is, on some level. And while I appreciate that to some extent, it sometimes aggravates me. I think it's because of the age difference.
The age difference is always a bit of an issue here. Granting that, being a floofy elf, Seregil's mental age doesn't match his chronological one, there is still a massive gulf of years, perspective and experience. And that's fine. There's nothing wrong with that, as long as everyone's a consenting adult. And this being fiction, even if there are some ethical gray areas, it's not actually real. So we can give it a bit of leeway where we might not in the real world.
But I do feel like we're supposed to see this as a healthy dynamic of near-equals. And it seems to me like Flewelling is trying to portray that by really emphasizing Alec's maturity, stoicism, and ability to provide care. And by not really addressing the big elephant in the room.
It's fine, I guess, but I find myself comparing it to a book with a similar age difference that I've reviewed here: Bardic Voices, by Mercedes Lackey.
If anything, the age difference is more profound there. Rune is either sixteen or eighteen depending on how we massage the timeline. Talaysen is, at youngest, mid-thirties. Possibly he's older. He's the leader of the entire Free Bards. This is not an equal pairing. It might never be.
But Lackey doesn't pretend that it is. If anything, she puts a spotlight on it. Rune, as young people does, dismisses the concern. But Talaysen doesn't. Talaysen is always aware that he's the older and more powerful partner. And he consciously tries to mitigate the potential for abuse.
Sex columnist Dan Savage has a rule about age gaps called the campfire rule. And while the man has some issues, undoubtedly, I always thought this one worth keeping. The idea is that, just like a camper at a campsite, you have the responsibility to clean up after yourself and not leave the place damaged. A person is not a campsite, but still: if you date someone significantly younger and less experienced than you, then you have the responsibility to treat them well. Whether the relationship is temporary or permanent, it's your job to make sure that the person is in as good a state mentally and physically when the relationship ends as they had been when it started.
Talaysen's awareness of the power dynamics, Rune's comparative vulnerability, and his conscious and deliberate way of trying to address them make me optimistic. IF they were to separate, or if Talaysen were to die before her, I think Rune would be as healthy mentally and physically as when they were together.
Seregil and Alec...eh. Seregil's a good guy, he is. And he's a decent mentor, usually. Sometimes he seems to forget he's dealing with someone young and inexperienced, and has caused distress. But mostly he means well. But, and maybe it's just because the narrative isn't as blatant about addressing the topic, I'm not sure that Seregil is aware of this. It makes me concerned.
So anyway, Alec brings Seregil a gift from town: it's a harp. And...maybe it helps a bit.
Micum slipped into a peaceful doze and Alec sat quietly in the corner, watching Seregil’s face as he played on through the afternoon. His expression betrayed little. The mantle of silence remained in place.
Seregil’s spirits seemed to rally somewhat during the voyage back to Rhiminee. He spoke more freely, though not of Nysander or the Helm.
Never of those. He walked the deck with Alec and Thero, ate sparingly with neither relish nor complaint, and played the harp by the hour, covering his own pain a little by easing Micum’s.
Micum and Thero took heart at these small changes but Alec, who shared a pallet with Seregil on the floor of Rhal’s cabin, knew how he trembled and groaned in his sleep each night. An intuition uncomfortably like the one that had dragged him back to the Cockerel that fateful night kept him by Seregil’s side as much as possible. The man he’d known for so long was gone, leaving in his stead a quiet stranger with distance behind his eyes.
Again, the depression is very well done. I too am worried about Seregil. I just...wish there was some acknowledgment that the others are in pain too. Heck, I'd be happy if Alec's narration maybe attributed some of his anxiousness over Seregil's well being to watching the man DIE.
It would be very easy to keep this same general flow, and even the same focus on Seregil's mental state, while acknowledging the rest. It's in character for Alec to repress and focus all his attention on Seregil. So...why not say so?
And again, we get a lovely scene with Micum and Alec. Alec is distressed and Micum asks what's wrong. And, of course, it's all about Seregil. Not even an "are YOU okay"? moment.
Anyway, they finally make it back to Rhiminee. Magyana is waiting. She knows Nysander is dead.
“I know, my dear,” she murmured, embracing him. “Nysander and I said our farewells the day I sent him across to find you. He suspected that he would not return, and asked me to tell all of you not to grieve for him, but to forgive him if you can.”
“Forgive him?” gasped Thero, standing rigidly beside Micum’s litter. “What could there be to forgive?” Magyana did not answer, but her gaze stole briefly back to Seregil, who’d turned away. Alec’s eyes locked briefly with hers and in that instant the mutual understanding ran deep. “It was also Nysander’s wish, Thero, that you should complete your training with me,” she continued.
I mean, Thero, you actually do have a fair bit you can be angry at him for. But it's understandable that grief puts rose colored glasses on you.
Poor Thero goes pale and sinks to his knees. Aw. He can't go back to Oreska. He blames himself: he'd told Ylinestra about Nysander's walks and studies. He didn't realize what her questions really meant. And he doesn't think the Council would want him back.
But Nysander DID do something for his pupil after all. Both he and Magyana are members of the High Council, and Nysander talked to them before he left. Thero can return.
That's good. I could wish that she'd take the moment to say it's not his fault. But this is just as good:
Cupping his chin, she gently raised his anguished face. “I would be honored if you would accept me as your teacher, Thero. In truth, it would be a great comfort to have you with me, and to see the education of my friend’s last pupil completed. It would be the greatest honor to his memory.”
So Thero gets as happy an ending as possible.
Rhal also exits stage left here, off to go privateering in the aftermath.
Everyone sets off for Wheel Street. Valerius comes to check on Micum. Thero gets some more indirect praise here, as Valerius says that he might have saved Micum's leg. He definitely saved Micum's life. Seregil and Alec get kicked out so he can work, and they walk through town.
Seregil has a moment here:
“Micum? I don’t think he will,” Alec replied, adding without much conviction, “Valerius wouldn’t have made us leave if he thought he would.”
“I don’t think I could stand to lose him, too,” Seregil said, betraying more emotion than he’d shown in days. But before Alec could respond he was off again, heading west.
They’d gone several blocks in silence before Alec realized where it was that they’d been headed all along.
Of course, they're at the Cockerel. Hm. Bets on whether or not there'll be any acknowledgement that Alec had a very traumatic experience here? Or will it be all about Seregil's trauma and loss?
Seregil looked equally bereft. “It was just starting to burn when I left. Cilia was only two years old when I bought it.”
Alec shuddered, hating Vargul Ashnazai all the more for giving him such memories of her and the others. “Do you think their ghosts are here?”
Seregil kicked at a bit of cracked stone. “If they did linger, you gave them peace the moment you strangled that bastard.”
Actually, that's pretty good. Okay, Flewelling. I'll give you that one. But, um, it'd be nice to have a little more than a line.
Baby Luthas, by the way, is with the drysians. And there's another survivor...
Seregil broke off as a small form bounded up out of the cellar hole with a loud, familiar trill.
Purring frantically, Ruetha went back and forth between them, twining herself around their ankles and arching to have her ears scratched.
They stared down at the cat for a moment in mutual amazement, then Seregil scooped her up with shaking hands. She butted him under the chin with her head.
Ruetha, apparently, was prone to disappearing when Seregil wasn't around. It saved her life.
So they go back to Micum. He's asleep, but doing very well. Young Elsbet is with him. His leg is intact, and he'll be able to ride again in time. They're heading home in the morning. The chapter ends with Seregil wondering what sort of reception he'll get from Micum's wife.
--
So our last chapter:
We start with Illia and Kari. Illia's announcing the riders. Kari sees Seregil and Alec and that Micum isn't riding with them. That...seems worse than giving her a warning actually.
But fortunately, Seregil is quick to explain that Micum's in the carriage.
We get to fill Kari in and...
“Thank the Maker!” Kari exclaimed, embracing him. “Oh, Seregil, I know about the Cockerel. I’m so sorry. Those poor good people.”
He returned the embrace stiffly and she stepped back to look into his face again. “What is it? There’s something else, isn’t there?”
“You’ve had no news, then?”
“Magyana sent word at dawn that you’d returned, that’s all.”
Seregil turned away, his face disturbingly expressionless as he looked out over the new green of the meadow. “Nysander’s dead.”
Kari raised a hand to her mouth, too stunned to speak.
“That nice old man who did magic tricks for me on Sakor’s Day?” asked Illia. She danced around them impatiently, her face puckering to cry. “Why is he dead? Did a bad man kill him?”
Seregil swallowed hard, his face still grim. “He did something very brave. Very difficult and very brave. And he died.”
So what does Kari get filled in on:
1) Cockerel - Seregil's loss.
2) Nysander - Seregil's loss again.
3) Illia gets a chance to say something that innocently hurts Seregil's feelings.
There was, by the way, one line about Micum right before this where Seregil says he's in the carriage, wounded but will be fine.
God forbid Kari ask about THAT.
She notes, of course, that Seregil seems too composed. But then, FINALLY, we get the reunion with Micum:
Haggard as he was, he greeted her with a rakish grin as she flew into his outstretched arms.
“I may be home for good this time, love,” he said ruefully, patting his bandaged leg propped before him on the carriage seat.
“Make me no idle promises, you wandering scoundrel!” Kari gasped, wiping away tears of relief. “Where’s Alec?”
We do, actually, get a moment for Alec's pain.
Kari held his hand a moment longer, seeing what Beka had seen; he was no longer the boy he’d been when he first came to Watermead. Whatever had happened to him through these past weeks, it had stripped the innocence from him, and who knew what else besides?
...don't get used to it.
They also have Seregil's cat with them. That part makes me happy.
Also, actually, apparently Kari has a surprise for them!
Kari smiled to herself, but held her peace until Alec and Seregil had helped Micum into the main hall. When he was settled comfortably in front of the fire, she drew Elsbet aside, then whispered to Illia. The little girl disappeared into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a plump, curly-headed baby in her arms.
“Father, look what Valerius brought us. Isn’t he pretty?”
It's baby Luthas. Apparently, Valerius brought him a few days after the guys left and asked Kari to foster him. Kari figured Cilla would want him there rather than raised by strangers "who knew nothing of his people" and she figures Micum wouldn't mind.
He doesn't, though he does have the wise husband inclination to ask if she'll be up to it, given their own incoming offspring. Kari scoffs. With the older girls leaving the nest, she's got too much time on her hands.
Ah but of course:
She looked up at Seregil, standing alone by the hearth. “When he’s old enough, I’ll tell him how you saved his life,” she added.
“It might be better if he didn’t know,” Seregil replied, watching Alec and Illia fussing over the child.
“I’ll leave it to you, then,” Kari said, catching another glimpse of the desperate unhappiness she’d sensed in him on the road.
I'm really not being fair, yet again. I read many books that are more over the top with the main character's angst (paging Janny Wurts.)
But Seregil's not the ONLY main character. And while I get that he's not really in a state to be concerned about anyone else, the one-sided-ness is bothersome.
Kari does get filled in on what happened with Nysander, of course:
No wonder Seregil’s so lost,” she whispered, stroking her husband’s strong, freckled arm. “How could Nysander have demanded such a thing of him?”
“I don’t completely understand it all myself,” Micum admitted sadly. “But I do believe Nysander was right in thinking that no one but Seregil would have the heart to strike him down when the time came. I couldn’t have done it, and I don’t think Alec could have, either.”
“We forget sometimes how cruel the gods can be!” Kari said bitterly. “To turn love to murder like that.”
“You’d have to have been there,” Micum said, staring up into the shadows cast by the fire on the hearth. “If you could have seen Nysander’s face—It wasn’t murder. It was an act of mercy, and love.”
Of course it was. But again, Kari doesn't get to express any of this sympathy or pity on page for anyone else. Not Thero, Not Micum, Not Alec. Not even Beka.
So weeks go on, we hear a bit about the war: the Plenimarians are held back in east Mycena, but they're ruling the seas in their black ships.
I do rather love that the war isn't ended just because the climax of the book happened. Our main characters are done (for now) but life continues.
Kari flourished with the land and her great belly swayed proudly before her as she went briskly about her daily work and the welcome tasks of summer. But she continued to worry about Seregil, though the only outward sign of trouble was his unusual quietness.
She knew Micum and Alec felt the same concern, yet none of them could see a way to help him.
He sought no solace from any of them, to be sure, but kept himself busy around the estate. Micum had made it clear that he and Alec were welcome to live at Watermead for as long as they wished, and Seregil seemed content to do so. From Alec, Kari learned that he’d sworn never to set foot in Rhiminee again.
Yep.
Both well-written and FRUSTRATING in its single focus. Wurts might hammer on about Arithon's massive angst of angstiness, but she'll generally at least mention that Dakar has a headache at the same time.
Oh, but hey:
Alec, who’d endured the most abuse of any of them, was the quickest to recover. Farm labor agreed with him and he quickly grew brown and cheerful again. Kari saw him watching Seregil, however, trying to gauge the inner turmoil that underlay his friend’s long silences and distant eyes.
At night they shared the bed in the guest chamber, but Kari could tell that no comfort was being found there either.
Convenient, isn't it, that the most abused is recovering the fastest, without any need for acknowledgment or comfort.
In character, sure, but it'd be nice to hear about Kari or Micum giving him a hug or something occasionally. But nah, that'd get in the way of Seregil worrying time.
So now we get a scene with Kari and Alec. It's a morning, just before dawn. Kari's restless and decides to make tea. Alec's already there, tea boiling and with pears from the trees outside. And...of course, this becomes an excuse to share their worries about Seregil.
Seregil has been writing. A lot. He won't let anyone see. He also hasn't been nagging Alec about gloves. And I mean, it's nice, elegant foreshadowing. Especially when Alec admits he's been thinking about something Seregil said about his exile: namely that the others didn't make it.
Kari is surprised Seregil shared that with Alec. Alec is afraid that Seregil has fallen into despair finally. And well, as for the relationship:
“Then keep good watch over him, Alec. You two share the same blood. Perhaps in his sadness he’s forgotten that.”
Alec sighed heavily. “He’s forgotten more than that. The day he found me again in Plenimar, something happened, but now he won’t—” Kari flinched suddenly as a sharp stab of pain lanced down one leg.
I know certain folks were worried about Alec backsliding. This...doesn't seem like that. That said, the pain? Well, Kari's very heavily pregnant and she's alone with a seventeen year old boy.
Of course, she's going into labor. That said, Kari's old hat and knows exactly what to do. She tells Alec that she's craving some of the new cheese and sends him to fetch some. Fortunately though he has to come back for a bowl or something.
Kari's less calm now. The baby's coming faster than expected. She's too heavy for him to carry, but he gets her inside. Elsbet and the female servants come quickly. Seregil offers to get a midwife, but Kari says she and "her women" can handle it and sends them to stay with Micum.
Micum is a little anxious - Kari's not young anymore. Seregil is reassuring (though looking a bit green himself) pointing out that it's not that early. She'll be okay.
And, eventually:
Oh, Master Micum!” she cried, wiping her hands on a towel. “He’s the sweetest little redheaded mite you ever saw. And strong, too, for an early babe. He’s sucking already, nice as you please. It was Dalna’s own mercy she brought him out early or she’d have had a worse time of it than she did, poor lamb. Give us a moment to clear up the bed and then come in, all of you. She wants you all!”
Aw. There's a happy family moment, though Alec "least experienced in such matters" thinks Kari looks dreadful and ill. Heh. But it's happy and emotional. And when it comes time to name the baby they decide that their original plan, to call him after Kari's father, doesn't work.
They have Seregil name the baby instead. Aw. The baby is Gherin, Aurenfaie for "early blessing". Alec is optimistic as Seregil finally seems peaceful.
Which of course means it's time for the foreshadowing to roost:
Lying there in the moonlight, Seregil stroked Alec’s fair hair and summoned the memory of the kiss they’d shared that day in Plenimar.
Even that had been sucked pale and flat.
Since Nysander’s death all his emotions seemed to have fled to a distance, felt dimly, as if through a pane of thick glass.
It was too late now, too late for anything. He was too empty. Covering Alec’s hand with his own, he watched the stars wheel toward morning, thinking of Gherin.
He's been stuck in limbo for a while, but the baby is a sign. Looking down into the face of Micum’s tiny new son today, he’d suddenly felt that the sign he’d been waiting for had been given at last. With this last thread of the past tied off, he could go.
Yep. I'm not going to mock or bitch about this, because I do think it's well done. It's sad and selfish in the way that suicide often is. Though it's not really clear if Seregil outright intends to commit suicide or just drift off into the horizon. Either way.
He leaves scrolls and jewels for the kids. And then goes to look dreamily at Alec for a bit, thinking that if Alec so much as opens an eye, he'll be lost.
He leaves a letter and documents making Alec the heir to all his holdings. He wishes him goodbye and starts riding out.
We switch scenes to Alec, who wakes up at the brush of a hand. He glimpses Nysander for a moment, who tells him to "go after him".
Alec dresses, finds the scrolls, and goes after him. Seregil is, of course, hard to find, but Alec realizes he'd headed up the streambed. He rides after him, to find Seregil sitting motionless in a saddle.
Alec realizes that he's not just scared and frantic. He's fucking pissed off. And you know what? About time.
“Wait—” Seregil called, but Alec ignored him. Digging his heels into Patch’s sides, he charged Seregil, bearing down on him before he could turn his own horse out of the way. The animals collided and Cynril reared, throwing Seregil off into the water. Alec leapt down and waded in after him.
Grabbing Seregil by the front of his tunic, he hauled him to his knees and shook the crumpled note in his face.
“What’s this supposed to be?” he yelled. “‘All I have in Rhiminee is yours now’? What is this?”
Seregil tries to explain that he decided it would be better for everyone if he just went away.
Bad choice of words:
“You decided. You decided?” Furious, Alec grabbed Seregil with both hands and shook him. The wrinkled parchment drifted across the pool, hung a moment against a stone, and spun away unnoticed down the stream. “I followed you over half the earth to Rhiminee for no other reason than you asked me to! I saved your damn life twice before we even got there and how many times since? I stood with you against Mardus and all the rest. But now, after moping around all summer, you decide you’re better off without me?”
Color flared in Seregil’s gaunt face. “I never meant for you to take it that way. Bilairy’s Balls, Alec, you saw what happened at the Cockerel. That was my fault. Mine! And it was only thanks to Ashnazai’s twisted vanity that you didn’t end up dead with them. Micum’s crippled for life, in case you didn’t notice, lucky to be alive. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve almost gotten him killed before? And Nysander—Let’s not forget what I did for him!”
I mean, on one hand, realistic and a good portrayal of grief and depression. On the other, way to make everyone else's tragedies about YOU, Seregil.
I can be both sympathetic and bitch. I am a creature of duality.
Alec shouts that Nysander sent him. That gets a reaction. Alec wants to know when Seregil will forgive himself, and then asks the real armor piercing question: when will Seregil forgive Nysander?
...and that's fair, of course. Because setting your older adopted son to kill you is a fucking dick move, Andy.
Seregil FINALLY gets to shed some tears, in his anger. Because Nysander should have told him. And damn right, he'd have tried to stop Nysander. And it makes a lot of sense really. Seregil has never been one to deny his own pain. He might not share it, but he acknowledges it. Alec might get hung up on expressing his grief and guilt and sorrow (and in a few books, we might actually see something about that...), but Seregil's not the sort.
But anger? Yeah, I can see Seregil trying like hell to block out that anger.
Alec notes that if Seregil had stopped Nysander, they'd all have failed. And that Nysander must be grateful: Seregil was the only one who loved him enough not to hesitate.
And this is a really nice scene:
“All these weeks—” Seregil shrugged helplessly. “You’re right, right about everything. But why can’t I feel it? I can’t feel anything anymore! I’m floundering around in a black fog. I look at the rest of you, see you healing, going on. I want to, but I can’t!”
“Just like I couldn’t make myself jump that time at Kassarie’s keep?” Seregil let out a small, choked laugh. “I guess so.” “So let me help you, the way you helped me then,” Alec persisted. Seregil wiped his nose on his sodden sleeve. “As I recall, I threw you off the roof into a gorge.” “Fine, if that’s what it takes to show you that I’m not about to let you slink away like some old dog going off to die.”
The guilty look that crossed his friend’s face told Alec his worst fears had been correct. “I’m not letting you go,” he said again, gripping Seregil’s sleeve for emphasis.
Seregil asserts that he can't stay here. Fine, Alec's coming with him. And well...
I love everyone there like my own family, but not—” Alec broke off, feeling his face go warm.
“But not what?” Seregil turned and brushed a clump of damp hair back from Alec’s face, studying his expression.
Alec forced himself to meet Seregil’s questioning gaze squarely. “Not as much as I love you.”
FINALLY.
Seregil gets his own:
Seregil looked at him for a moment, grey eyes still sad. “I love you, too. More than I’ve loved anyone for a long time. But you’re so young and—” He spread his hands and sighed. “It just didn’t seem right.”
And hey, for a brief second:
Seregil looked out over the pond again. “‘Father, brother, friend, and lover.””
“What?” A coldness passed over Alec’s heart; Mardus had spoken almost those same words when asking about his relationship to Seregil.
Some acknowledgment of trauma? Maybe?
Seregil explains about the Oracle, and well...
“I know.” Catching Seregil off guard, Alec leaned forward and pressed his lips to Seregil’s with the same mix of awkwardness and determination he’d felt the first time.
But when he felt Seregil’s arms slip around him in a welcoming embrace, the confusion that had haunted him through the winter cleared like fog before a changing wind.
Aw. And Seregil tries to be a Talaysen style lover here by telling Alec that anything they do, they'll do with honor. And he'll be Alec's friend first, even if Alec takes a hundred wives or lovers later.
*sigh*
Well, he's trying. A more insightful person might keep in mind that Alec's still fairly traditionally moral, and would perhaps tailor his example more into something about not wanting to continue with a romantic/sexual relationship than a theoretical polyamory that would likely never suit him. But Seregil is fairly young himself. So points for effort.
Anyway, the scene is very sweet, and interrupted by a pissed of Micum on horseback. Ah, so he did learn to ride again. Might have been nice to see that. Sorry. Sorry.
Anyway, he says he doesn't know whether to kiss him or kick his ass. Seregil says Alec beat him to both. Micum thinks it's about time.
So we fast forward and it's time to say goodbye. The boys are headed north to Mycena. Both Micum and Kari note that Seregil is looking better now. Sex endorphins probably. They gallop off and the story ends here.
The Verdict will be coming soon.