Daughter of the Lion - Part Two - Chapters Eleven and Twelve

[kalinara]

So, last time, we had a confrontation between brothers and would-be boyfriend. Keely decides to save Rory by pretending that they're lovers (as opposed to pointing out that this guy is actually Aileen's half brother or anything). This can't possibly backfire on her.



Keely admittedly might not think things through, but Rory may not share that character flaw, as the first thing we're told he does in the morning is to give Keely the colt back.

In the morning, Rory brought Brennan's colt to me. "Take him, lass," he said. "I'll not be responsible for setting you and your brother at odds."

I made a face. "Oh, Brennan is just—Brennan."

Rory shrugged, putting the reins into my hands. "Take him anyway. I stole him from you, lass. 'Tis time he went home again."

"But—what you said to Brennan—" I frowned. "I thought you meant to keep him."

What I could see of his mouth was pulled down into a wry curl. "Aye, well, 'tisn't always a woman saying one thing and meaning another . . ." He grinned. "Take him, lass. He's a bright, fine lad, deserving of better care and stables than I can give him, I'm thinking."

I mentioned this idea in the comment section of the last chapter, but it occurs to me that one of the reasons that Keely and Rory feel so jarring to me is that they're really in a completely different genre than any other book or couple in the series. Where the other protagonists are wrapped up in war stories, political drama, and personal horror, Keely and Rory are kind of blithely playing out a romantic comedy.

Which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it does fit oddly with everything else. Keely's primary fears are all political in nature - she's got to get married for the sake of peace and prophecy, and she's terrified of it and thus spends most of her time over-identifying with her sister-in-law and tormenting the brother who's acting in proxy for her own unwanted fiance.

The problem is there really isn't, for me, a real sense of consequence. What if the engagement between Sean and Keely fell through? What does that mean exactly? For all the melodrama, it seems unlikely that Liam would go to war over the insult. His daughter is in line to be Queen of Homana after all, regardless of who Sean ends up marrying. The prophecy is a little more nebulous, but to be fair, this is the first time they've ever even had any spares to the prophecy at all.

Sure, Aidan's sickly. Aileen can't have more children. That's a bit tense, sure. But let's look at the previous generations. Carillon and Donal were each the only male children in their respective generations to inherit the throne. Aislinn and Niall were both children of difficult births and the only member of each generation with the requisite Solindish-Homanan blood. Meanwhile, Hart has a daughter already. Even if Brennan has no other children, it'd be easy enough to marry Hart's daughter to an appropriate young man and get another generation, even if Keely never married at all.

I appreciate that Roberson wanted to center a female character in this book, and as aggravating as I find Keely in general, I appreciate that her issues are given weight. I just wish there was a sense of any kind of consequence. Why CAN'T Keely do what she wants when there's really nothing at stake?

But I do appreciate that Rory at least seems to finally be realizing this is bigger than their little games, and, at least from his perspective, Keely putting her own reputation at risk seems to actually matter.

Meanwhile, Keely urges Rory to go home, telling him that he's no good to his house hanging out in the woods of Homana. They share some admittedly entertaining banter:

Rory jeered at me. "Neither are you to yours. You're supposed to be in Erinn, wed to my royal brother and whelping him lad after lad." He paused in silent consideration. "And perchance a few lasses . . . one or two might do, to wed into other Houses."

"Blathering fool," I said sweetly, and swung up into the saddle. "My thanks for the meat and drink, and the empty bed." I grinned at his sour expression. "Leijhana tu'sai, Erinnish—and may the next horse you steal belong to an Ihlini."

So Keely heads back to Homana-Mujhar, only to feel the presence of Taliesin "obscuring the link". She's alert this time, so it's not a disaster, but I find the wording kind of interesting. Keely doesn't have a "link". She doesn't have a lir. The Old Blood allows her to take whatever form she wants without the presence of a lir at all.

But to be fair, women with the Old Blood are pretty rare, so it makes some sense that the terminology that she's used to using to describe her experiences are defined by what's happening with the men and their powers. It'd be interesting to explore this a bit more sometime.

So Taliesin comes out to greet her. And apparently, even off page, boys will be boys.

He came into the outer bailey as I rode through the big gate, turning toward the stable. He smiled, gave me good welcome, added news of my brothers. "Hart has won his wager."

I pulled the chestnut to a halt, ignoring his pleas to go on. He knew he was nearly home. "I should have known," I sighed. "Do you know what it was?"

The harper laughed and nodded. "He believed you would stay the night. Brennan said no, that your pride would prevent you."

Keely is annoyed by her brothers acting like brothers, then asks if everyone knows. And THIS is interesting:

"That you spent the night with Erinnish outlaws?" Taliesin nodded. "The wager was made before witnesses, including myself. Also the Mujhar."

"Also the M—" I cut off the incredulous echo, "By the gods, I swear they have no sense. Either of them. Hart is no surprise, but Brennan ..." I shook my head in disbelief. "He must be very angry with me, to traffic in such dealings."

The harper's voice was dry. "He suggested the wager."

It snapped my head up. "Brennan—?" But I nodded almost at once. "Oh, aye, of course ... his way of telling jehan without actually bearing the tale." I sighed heavily and picked at a knot in the colt's mane. "So, everyone knows of Rory. But then, Deirdre already did, after The Rampant Lion; it comes as no surprise." I flicked him a glance. "Was jehan very angry?"

As I said last chapter, this is maybe the very first time that I've ever actually bought the idea that, in some ways, Cheysuli society might actually be more female-friendly than Homanan society. Because I literally cannot imagine most European-inspired fantasy settings being this relaxed about the idea of a betrothed princess having an affair with someone else.

We're not even talking about an Aileen-Corin courtship here. The impression Keely gave, by giving her knife to Rory, was an actual full on sexual relationship. And the only real reaction we're seeing from anyone is general annoyance.

Brennan's reaction is restrained disgust last chapter. He apparently tattles to Niall in this chapter, in true older brother fashion, but he clearly isn't taking it that seriously if he's making wagers about it. Keely herself is embarrassed and wonders if Niall is angry, but doesn't seem afraid of it. We see that even more with this next exchange:

Taliesin considered it. "He said it was behavior most unlike you in some ways, and very like you in others."

I brightened. "But you are sure he was not angry?"

He tucked hands inside his sleeves. "I think he wanted to be. But Hart said there was no cause. That he knows you better than Brennan, who sees only what you show him."

To be fair, the gist I get from this scene is that no one actually thinks Keely is sleeping with Rory. Hence the bet. But I also don't get the sense that anyone thinks it would have been that big of a deal if she had.

Keely explains to Taliesin about the knife. Taliesin knows what it means and gives Keely some words of wisdom that might be more poignant if they seemed at all relevant to anything that's happened in this book so far:

Clearly, he knew what it meant. "You must make your own integrity," he said gently. "And then you may keep it or discard it, depending on your desires."

I turned, clutching reins, ignoring the colt's nose planted in my spine even as he nudged. "You are saying no one could—or should—do it for me."

Taliesin's eyes were oddly serene. "You must not allow them to, if you are to know true freedom."

I mean, Keely's story so far is being afraid of marriage, meeting a bandit, getting robbed by a bandit, lying about the bandit, and being a twit to her brother. It's to Roberson's credit that I haven't really been bored by her adventures, exasperated sure, but not bored. But I don't really see where integrity plays into any of this.

But anyway, Taliesin isn't just here to greet Keely. He's actually getting ready to leave. He's given Niall his news and doesn't intend to stay. Keely says she wishes he would, pointing out that Strahan's destroyed his cottage. But Taliesin thinks it's time he built a new one.

Also, Keely, if you recall, Niall and Carollan are basically spitting images of one another. Taliesin might want to finish grieving on his own before he hangs around with his dead lover's doppelganger in a culture that is not particularly accepting of homosexuality.

But anyway, they're interrupted when a new rider appears to greet Lio at the gate. He rides forward to greet "the Princess Royal of Homana".

He jumped down from his horse at once and presented me with a flat sealed packet he took from inside his doublet. "Lady," he said, "from my lord. He's wishing you good health, and hopes to join you soon."

The accent was unmistakable. "Erinn," I said numbly.

The young man grinned. "Aye, from Kilore. Prince's man, lady, come to serve you as well as my lord."

Well, FINALLY. NOW we have some real potential stakes and drama. Sean is, finally, entering the fray.

Sean, we're told, is staying at the Red Stag Inn in Hondarth. And the messenger is happy to wait for a message to bring back to him.

So what IS Sean's message:

I signed for him to wait, then broke open the seal and unfolded the parchment. A blunt, inelegant message, in a blunt, inelegant hand; had he no clerk to write it for him?

It lacked salutation or honorific, beginning simply:

Keely—

Past time the marriage was made, so we may get the heirs needed for Erinn. I am my father's only son, and

Erinn must be secured. Enough time has passed, I think, why waste any more? We are both of us more than of d enough, and the betrothal long made. Let us wed as soon as possible, so the bairns may be begun.

Even Rory, I thought, had more eloquence than this. I read the message again, noting the signature in its bold, black hand. And yet a third time, aware now of rising anger and a cold hostility.


...okay, yeah, probably not the best approach. And I'm still utterly bewildered at the fact that no one apparently corresponds in this setting. I know I've asked it before but I'll ask it again: why haven't Brennan and Aileen, and Sean and Keely been in any kind of contact for their entire lives?

It might have helped, you know? Brennan and Aileen are both fairly honorable folk who may have been less likely to fall in love with other people if their intended fiancee was more than a name to them. Keely might be less afraid of a man that wasn't a complete stranger, and Sean might have a better idea of how to communicate with a reluctant wife.

But anyway, Keely decides that she does have a message for him, but she'll deliver it herself. She does decide to be a bitch to the poor messenger in the process though:

"Are you deaf?" I asked coolly, aware of my rudeness and, in an odd, clear detachment, not caring in the least. "I said I will give it to him myself." I gestured briefly. "You may take yourself to the kitchens, where you will be given food and wine. Stay the night, if you wish; I require nothing from you save your immediate absence."

His face was white, but he said nothing more. Simply bowed stiffly, turned his horse, walked smartly toward the gate to the inner bailey.

Taliesin's disapproval was manifest, though little of it showed in his expression. Saying nothing, I handed the parchment to him and bade him read it.

Taliesin does understand a bit more when he reads the message, noting that Sean is a prince rather than a diplomat. Keely complains about the apparent lack of tutors in Erinn, that Sean has no one to write a better hand and with better words. Taliesin asks the obvious question: is she more angry about what he's written or because her freedom is at an end.

Taliesin is definitely a diplomat and urges her to overlook the crudeness, and instead focus on the fact that he wrote it to her himself rather than delegating it to someone else, and he wrote it in Homanan rather than his own language. Keely acknowledges to herself that it is something, but she wished he'd spent his care on the content of the message.

That's fair.

This bit is pretty funny though:

I looked at Taliesin, seeing Rory's face before me. Blunt-spoken, forthright Rory, yet a man nearer my own heart than the prince more concerned with heirs.

His father's only son? No, I think not. What I think, my Erinnish eaglet, is you had better count again.

You know, Keely. If you're offended about how Sean treats HIS bastard brother, you could reconsider how you treat your own sister? Maybe?

I mean, Sean might well resent that Rory isn't forced into this marriage, like you resent Maeve, and unlike Rory, Maeve didn't almost kill YOU.

But Keely decides that she will do as Taliesin urges and judge Sean for herself. She intends to go to Hondarth now. Alone. Of course. And we've read enough of these books to know what happens when the protagonist ends up going off on their own two thirds of the way into the book. But let's go with it anyway.

But Taliesin is actually more genre savvy than I gave him credit for. He decides that he wants to go with her. Keely is shocked, stating that she'd intended to go in lir shape. Taliesin points out that this might have Sean think she's too eager.

Of course, she's not even going to go back to the palace and tell anyone where she's going. She's got coin and Taliesin has provisions, she figures they'll hear from the messenger and realize what she's doing and why.

The chapter ends here.

--

But since the next chapter is pretty short and finishes out the Part. We'll move on here.

So the chapter starts with Keely braiding her "heavy waist-length hair into a single tawny rope plaited more loosely than usual." She mocks herself for it, stating she's not trying to make herself beautiful but buying time.

They're in Hondarth now. Taliesin is waiting to take her to the Red Stag Inn. They'd made a pit stop first though, at a different inn, to clean up and "not offend a princely nose with the stink of a two week journey".

Taliesin comes in, noting that she's not wearing the skirt she'd bought. She admits it was a waste of money and she prefers to go before Sean as she is. I like this bit though:

I tugged on the second boot, settled my foot as I straightened. "I am not Ilsa," I snapped. "I am not a beautiful woman."

"No," he agreed.

Hands went to hips. Elbows stuck out from my sides. "You might have disagreed, if only for courtesy's sake."

"Why? You value honesty above all else, do you not? And, not being a vain woman, you have no patience for empty flattery." His tone, as always, was polite and inoffensive, while stripping bare the truth more eloquently than a blade. "Beautiful women rely on their beauty; you rely on you."

I mean, of course Keely is a beautiful woman. We've seen the cover of the book and she's never been described as anything but flattering terms, appearance wise. But we need this not like other girls moment. (And I'm a little offended on Ilsa's behalf.)

And just in case we dared imagine Keely as plain, we get this:

"Of course you are," he agreed. "But as for your appearance, there is nothing to be ashamed of. You are not beautiful, no, not as I have seen women beautiful, women such as Ilsa, but there is a wondrous strength and courage in your face, in your carriage, in the set of your head, the way you unerringly seek out the truth in a man's soul." He smiled warmly. "Your spirit was bred in your bones."

"Another way of saying I am plain." I sighed, clapping a hand to either side of my face. "Why am I saying these things? I never cared before. I sound like Maeve, now, staring into her polished plate!"

For fuck's sake. Maeve isn't even here. She hasn't been relevant to this book since like chapter three. Leave her the fuck alone.

Oh, but here's more flattery:

Taliesin crossed the tiny room to me and pulled my hands away. His candor, as always, was couched in courtesy, but lacked no point for all of that. "Your nose is too straight," he said, "your cheekbones high and too sharply cut, lending the set of your eyes a slant. Your jaw is masculine rather than feminine, and your mouth too wide and bold for the accepted style in employing feminine wiles." He saw my expression and laughed. "You use your eyes for seeing, not for luring men, and your tongue you use as a sword, not for promises." Gently, he cradled my chin in warped, knotted fingers. "You are not a great beauty, no, but most definitely a Cheysuli . . . with pride and power intact."

"But not the color," I said hollowly. "Blonde hair in place of black, blue eyes in place of yellow. And my skin is much too fair."

So yay for three paragraphs of flattering description of a woman who theoretically isn't beautiful, culminating in her bemoaning her blonde hair, blue eyes and fair skin.

This is particularly offensive in a series where the only women who have been explicitly described as looking Cheysuli were Raissa and Gisella. (Eventually we'll have one more. A very Cheysuli looking woman whose protagonist daughter will be very pale and white.)

Taliesin just notes that he sees a frightened, unhappy woman and he'd thought he came with Keely. This helps Keely pull herself together and head to the inn.

The inn is mostly empty but with a handful of strangers in one corner, drinking, eating and wagering quietly. She immediately relates them to Rory's men, and chides herself, realizing that it's a bad idea to set the brothers against each other even in her mind.

They sit in the taproom and eventually a man in Erinnish green comes over. He doesn't fit Sean's description (blond, brown-eyed, big, per Aileen), but he's here as a messenger. This is actually pretty interesting though.

He paused at our table. His smile was tentative, but not his courtesy. "Forgive me," he said, "but would you be the Princess Royal of Homana?"

"Why?" I asked bluntly.

His grin widened. He had a good face, and green eyes glinted. "Because my lord sent a message somewhat lacking in diplomacy, and we wagered you might come if only to set him to rights." Sandy brows arched up. "You would be her, would ye not? Come to set him to rights?"

I exchanged glances with Taliesin. "If I were not," I said, "would you still be so free telling your lord's business to a stranger?"

"Oh, aye. He's not a man much troubled by appearances, being made for other things." He touched two fingers to the wolfhound brooch. "Lady, have you come? Will I win my wager?"

So it sounds like, maybe, Sean might have known what he was doing with the message after all. Interesting.

That said, the guy does realize he's overstepped talking about the wager. Apparently, unsurprisingly, Keely has a reputation and most of the men had bet she'd come to confront him. He's apologetic, but to her credit, Keely isn't bothered.

At the moment, Sean is in the bath, but Keely's willing to wait rather than barge in. The new guy's name is Galen and he's quick to order the best wine for Keely. He ignores Taliesin, but not rudely, he's just much more interested in the woman who will theoretically become his mistress.

Eventually more of the men come over, and Galen proposes a toast in bad Homanan. It's actually kind of cute, and Keely seems to respond well to them. She notes that none of them have the "slyness" that she'd seen in the messengers' eyes and that while they're amused at the situation, it's not at her expense.

She's led up to a room where she's greeted by someone named Sheehan. And this is getting even more romantic comedy esque, because we're told that Sean is actually really hungover, having drunk off his ass the night before.

I slanted Sheehan a glance of wry disgust. "Oh, aye . . . did he drink to a wine-girl, too? Did he drink to his banished brother?"

Sheehan pushed himself off the door and paced slowly away from it, showing me his back. He was tall, inherently graceful, lacking Rory's bulk but none of Rory's presence.

He turned. "My lord says nothing of his brother."

"Perhaps it is time he did." Sheehan, I thought, would be worth cultivating. He had the look of a man accustomed to learning the truth, even though he divulged none of it until it suited his—or his lord's—purposes. "Is he often in his cups?"

Sheehan's mouth was taut. "Since his brother left."

This mollifies Keely a little. She realizes that the conflict meant something on Sean's end too. She suggests that Sean could ask Rory back.

They discuss the ways of men:

He turned from pouring wine. "But why? Sean is a man, lady ... he does as he pleases. If it includes drinking overmuch, 'tis his choice. And it was in your honor."

"Aye, of course, that excuses it." I took the cup he offered, sipped out of courtesy, found the wine to my taste. "I will wed no drunkard, Sheehan. No matter who he is."

Fair enough. She asks after Sheehan himself, and we're told he's actually from Falia. This is maybe the first we've heard anything about the other side of the map, so it's worth looking.

He did not sit, being disposed to pace the room idly, indolent as a cat. He sipped wine, thought private thoughts, turned at last to me. "My father is Falian. A merchant. He came to Erinn for trade, and there he met and lay with my mother. He went back to Falia before I was born." He shrugged a little, as if dismissing the pain he must have felt once. "When I was eight my mother sent me to him, to Bortall, the High King's city, where he had his business. He knew I was his by looking at me. He accepted me, acknowledged me; I grew up there, and came back to Erinn twelve years later. I have been here—there— ever since." He smiled. "A poor tale, I fear—my life has been uneventful."

"But you serve a prince now."

"Sean is a good master. I could ask for no better." He stood at the table again, and again he did not sit. His voice was very soft. "You say nothing of my eye."

Of course, Keely's not unaccustomed to eye issues, growing up with Niall. What IS new is Sheehan praising her tact and discretion.

And...oh...I think I see where this is going:

He smiled warmly. A handsome man, Sheehan, even lacking an eye. He was black-haired, bearded, showing good white teeth. Thick hair was cropped to his shoulders, where it curled against the drape of a soft leather doublet dyed blue. The color matched his eye.

Now because we can't have a conversation about Keely without discussing her powers, this leads to an awkward segue:

"What else are you?" he asked. "If lacking in tact, in discretion, what do you have?"

He was due the truth, asking such of me. "Power," I told him succinctly. "Magic in my blood."

"Aye, of course: the shapechange." His beard was trimmed short and neat, unlike Rory's bush. I could see his mouth clearly as it moved into a smile. A polite, skeptical smile, telling me what he thought. "I have heard the tales."

His skepticism is a bit surprising. Keely wonders if there's no magic in Falia, since she knows there is in Erinn. (And we've seen Ellas.)

Things change here though.

"Show me," he said lightly.

Over the cup, I stared at him. And then I set the cup down. "I think it is time you saw to your lord, Sheehan. I am content to wait alone."

"Show me." More intently.

Sluggish anger rose. "I am not a trained dog, performing at your whim. What I am is—"

"Show me," he hissed. "Or is it all a lie?"

I stood up. "Do you think—" I caught myself against the table, trying to blink sudden weakness away. "Sheehan—"

"No," he said plainly. "Strahan." And stripped the patch from his perfect brown eye.

Of course. Because we're two thirds of the way into the book. I should warn you, that we're going to have a pretty pronounced genre change at this point. The romantic comedy is now over.

This of course leads to gloating:

I pulled the table over, spilling wine as the jug broke. Shards littered the floor; wine stained my hands, my face, my leathers. I picked up the cup and threw it.

It did not so much as go near him. He guided it aside with a subtle gesture from a single negligent finger.

—numb—

Strahan came to me, knelt down, caught me in both hands. I tried to spit in his face but could not raise the saliva.

"Much too late," he said. "Do you think me a foolish man? I prepared well for this ... it took me all of two years." Hands tightened against my bare arms. "Ever since I lost your brothers."

Honestly, I'm not sure this much work was really necessary. But okay. This leads to taunting, of course.

"Where is the magic?" he asked. "Where is the power now? Where is your old Blood, Keely . . . your legacy from Alix?" His face was so close, too close. "What has become of your spirit? Your famous sword-sharp tongue? Your vaunted warrior prowess?"

I tipped back my head and screamed, but nothing came out of my throat.

"Too late," he said sadly. "Much too late, Keely. Taliesin, too, I have taken, and this time I will keep him. This time I will kill him."

And what are his plans for Keely?

He left me lying there, helpless in my own flesh. "I need you," he told me, "to bear the Firstborn children. I have begun already, with Rhiannon, with Sidra, but I require the proper blood, the proper body. Yours will do, I think."

I'm sure we're all shocked by this.

Hey, Strahan. You remember that whole bit about NOT wanting the Firstborn to exist? You know an easy way to prevent that is not to fuck a Cheysuli?

Oh well. I guess it was inevitable that the female protagonist will also get a rape plot. I suppose I can't even call it sexist, since it's not like the Ihlini weren't willing to rape the boys too. But I wish the story were going in a different direction.

Tenderly, he stroked a strand of hair out of my lashes. "I will get a child on you, and I will use it against your kin. Your father, your uncle, your sister, your brothers ... I will destroy the House of Homana, and all with the aid of our child."

Not mine. Not his. Ours.

His voice was very gentle. "Do not fret, I beg. It will bring no pain to you. I am not a cruel man, Keely, to cause pain for pleasure's sake. I am a simple, devout man, no different from any other, save I am sworn to serve my god, even as the Cheysuli are sworn to theirs. What I do is required, not a perverted whim. So I will make it easy for you."

I forced my eyes open and stared.

Strahan's smile was sweet. "There will be no dishonor in it, no besmirching of your race. By morning, Keely, I promise, you will have forgotten you were ever Cheysuli."

And thus, the chapter, and the Part, ends.