Song of Homana - Part Two - Chapter Seven and Eight

[kalinara]

So last time, we learned some dire news. Tynstar has taken Alix. He'd almost gotten Donal too, but the boy escaped. He's definitely got nefarious plans though.



So we rejoin Carillon as he's leading his men into Solinde. They come to a stop, making comments and oaths, and "broken prayers to the gods" (Who are Homana's gods?). The Cheysuli who've also come with are less troubled.

So what's troubling them?

The landscape apparently. They'd crossed the Bluetooth River and now made it through the Molon Pass. Valgaard is still before them, and "the land reflected the lair".

Snow still patched the ground beneath the trees, mantling the rocky mountains. Great defiles fell away into canyons, sheer and dark and wet from melting snow. All around us the world was a great, dark, slick wound, bleeding slowly in the sunlight. Someone had riven the earth.

Even the trees reflected the pain of the land. They were wracked and twisted, as if some huge cold hand had swept across them in a monstrous fit of temper. Rocks were split open in perfect halves and quarters; some were no more than powder where once a boulder had stood. But most of them had shapes. Horrible, hideous shapes, as if nightmares had been shaped into stone so all could share the horror.

By the way, we're told that Carillon's party consists of twenty-two men. Nine Homanan soldiers, nine Cheysuli, Rowan, the Ellasian Gryffth, Duncan and Carillon. Carillon is now wondering if that will be enough.

Duncan identifies this place as "the tourney-field of the Ihlini." He explains that Ihlini power is inbred, just like Cheysuli gifts, and just like the Cheysuli, they have to learn and practice.

We find out more about what Ihlini can do:

“They have the power to alter the shapes of things that do not live.” His hand swept out to indicate the rocks. “You have felt another of their gifts: the power to quicken age. With the touch of a hand, an Ihlini can make a man old, quickening the infirmities that come with years.” I knew it too well, but said nothing. “There is the possession I have spoken of, when they take the mind and soul and keep it. And they can take the healing from a wound. There is also the art of illusion. What is, is not; what is not, seems to be. Those gifts, Carillon, and all shadings in between. That is a facet of Asar-Suti. The Seker, who lends his magic to those who will ask.”

So would the gods give the Cheysuli more gifts if the Cheysuli asked them?

Also, Ihlini powers sound so much swankier than Cheysuli powers.

There's an interesting bit that will become relevant in the series to come: all Ihlini have magic, but not all of them have Tynstar's power.

So they make camp and there's more good description here:

We camped at last behind the shoulder of a canyon wall that fell down from the darkening sky to shield us against the night wind. The earth’s flesh was quite thin. Here and there the skeleton broke through, stone bones that glistened in the sunset with a damp, sweaty sheen. Tree roots coiled against the shallow soil like serpents seeking warmth. One of my Homanans, seeking wood for a fire, meant to hack off a few spindly, wind-wracked limbs with his heavy knife and pulled the whole tree out of the canyon wall. It was a small tree, but it underlined the transience of life near Valgaard.

Such a creepy place. Anyway, while the men have gamble and chat, Carillon goes off to find Duncan, who is sitting rigidly.

He had pulled on a cloak at last. It was dark, like my own, blending with the night. The earring glinted in his hair. “What does he do with her?” he asked. “What does he do to her?”

I had wondered the same myself. But I forced reassurance from my mouth. “She is strong, Duncan. Stronger than many men. I think Tynstar will meet his match in her.”

“This is Valgaard.” His voice was raw.

Okay, as much as I hate Duncan on general principle, I do feel him here. Carillon asserts that she has the Old Blood and reminds him that Donal got free, taking lir shape even though he was in Ihlini presence. Duncan doesn't have much hope.

The conversation moves to other topics.

“Do you wonder what has become of Tourmaline?” he asked. “What has become of Finn?”

“Every day,” I answered readily “And each day I regret what has happened.”

“Would you change it, if Finn came to you and asked to take your rujholla as his cheysula?”

Carillon says that he needed the alliance with Rhodri. Duncan points out that Rhodri gave the alliance anyway. But Carillon points out that Lachlan, not Rhodri, gave him aid. Dude. Really? Do you really think that Lachlan, much as he likes you, would have sent an entire regiment of the royal guard to help without his father's unofficial okay?

Lachlan's a good guy though, he may have lost out in the romance department, but he's not holding a grudge or blaming anyone but himself.

Talk moves on to Donal, and whether Duncan regrets that Donal must marry Aislinn. "Cheysuli wed to Homanan?" This question is, of course, idiotic when we remember the practice of keeping Homanan sex slaves we saw in Shapechangers. It is more interesting though if we pretend Shapechangers doesn't exist.

Duncan regrets that Donal won't have the comparatively simple life of a Cheysuli warrior (unless "they" make him a clan-leader).

Carillon points out that Duncan might see Donal become a king. Carillon has to die to give him the throne. Do you? Can't you abdicate? But this gets to different things. And timeline confusion again:

“You have changed,” Duncan said at last. “I thought, at first, you had not—or very little. I see now I was wrong. Finn wrought well when he tempered the steel…but it is kingship that has honed the edge.”

I huddled within my cloak. “As you say, kingship changes a man. I seem to have no choice.”

“Necessity also changes,” Duncan said quietly. “It has changed me. I am nearly forty now, old enough to know my place and recognize my tahlmorra without chafing, but each day, of late, I wonder what might have happened had it been otherwise.” He shook his head. “We wonder. We ever wonder. The freedom to be without a tahlmorra.” The moon was free again and I saw another headshake. “What would happen did I keep my son? The prophecy would be twisted. The Firstborn, who gave the words to us, would never live again. We would be the Cheysuli no longer.” I saw the rueful smile. “Cheysuli: children of the gods. But we can be fractious children.”

So let's examine.

a) I enjoy that Duncan attributes Carillon's initial growth to his not-marriage.

b) I think Roberson may have forgotten her timeline again. Per this book, Duncan should only thirty-five or so. (Finn's birth being at the start of the qu'mahlin, he'd be thirty-three now, and Duncan two years older.) Shapechangers' timeline would put him at thirty-eight, which makes "nearly forty" more accurate.

c) I like this talk about tahlmorra, and it's really interesting coming from Duncan. Of the two brothers, Duncan tends to come across as the wiser and more priestly brother. But it's Finn, at least in this book, that has the implacable faith in tahlmorra. But it makes sense. If we look at the story Shapechangers was supposed to be telling, Finn was transformed through acceptance of his tahlmorra. We could see him become the person he always was meant to be. Tahlmorra gave him peace, calm, a purpose, and Carillon.

Duncan's relationship to tahlmorra is trickier. It means a wife that he loves (and let's just pretend we never read Shapechangers), but also means he has to give his son up to a greater destiny.

Finally, they talk again about Alix.

Moonlight slanted full across his face. “Women are lost often enough,” he said quietly. “In childbirth…accident…illness. A warrior may grieve in the privacy of his pavilion, but he does not show his feelings to the clan. It is not done. Such things are kept—private.” His hand was filled with pebbles. “But were Alix taken from me by this demon, I would not care who knew of my grief.” The pebbles poured from his hand in a steady, dwindling stream. “I would be without her…and empty.…”

We move ahead now to Valgaard:

The fortress itself formed the third wall of the canyon, a pendant to the torque. But I thought the fit too snug. I thought the jewel too hard. No, not an eagle. A carrion bird, hovering over its corpse.

and

Valgaard rose up out of the glassy black basalt like a wave of solid ice, black and sharp, faceted like a gemstone. There were towers and turrets, barbicans and ramparts. It glittered, bright as glass, and smoke rose up around it. I could smell the stink from where we stood.

Creepy. Duncan explains that the Gate is in the fortress, and the smoke is "the breath of the god". There's also "blood within the stone: hot white blood. If it should touch you, you will die". It's hot here, but Carillon misses the cold. Duncan deliberately spits on the ground.

Rowan asks about the strange hunks of stone around. Duncan explains that it's an Ihlini bestiary. Their answer to the lir. Carillon sees that the stone deposits have forms, shapes that are monstrous travesties of animals. A defiling of the idea of the lir, and a mockery of the gods.

They discuss entry. They rule out the direct approach. It'd be unexpected, but also really dumb. Duncan notes that there's always a way inside, but getting out will be difficult. Gryffth is the one who finds the way in though: he has a ring from Lachlan and can claim to be a royal courier.

Gryffth grinned a little. His red hair was bright in the sunlight. “I think I will have no trouble. The High Prince has said, often enough, that I have the gift of a supple tongue. I will wind Tynstar around this finger.” He made a rude gesture with his hand, and all the Homanans laughed. In the months since the Ellasian had joined my service, he had made many friends. He had wit and purpose, and a charming way as well.

Gryffth is fun. His plan is to tell Tynstar that Rhodri sent him for an alliance. He notes that it doesn't really matter if Tynstar believes him. He'll claim that High Prince Cuinn (hi, Lachlan!!!) pissed his dad off by sending men, and Rhodri does NOT want an alliance with the Homanans. He thinks it should intrigue Tynstar enough to host him for the night, and he can open the gates and let them in. Once in, they'll live or die, and it won't matter if Tynstar believes him.

Rowan is angry about the risk, and I think I could ship them.

Gryffth shrugged. “A man lives, a man dies. He does not choose his life. Lodhi will protect me.”

Duncan smiled. “You could almost be Cheysuli.”

I saw Gryffth thinking it over. Ellasian-bred, he hardly knew the Cheysuli. But he did not think them demons. And so I saw him decide the comment was a compliment. “My thanks, Duncan…though Lodhi might see it differently.”

“You call him the All-Wise,” Duncan returned. “He must be wise enough to know when I mean you well.”

I really do like the comparative religion stuff here. Duncan gives him the Cheysuli well wish: Cheysuli i'halla shansu, and Gryffth's off. Cai will keep an eye out to see what gate is unlocked.

...oh...

I rose as he did and clasped his arm. “Good fortune, Gryffth. May Lodhi guard you well.”

He untethered his horse and mounted, reining it around. He glanced down at Rowan, who had become a boon companion, and grinned. “Do not fret, alvi. This is what I choose.”

Well now. My main ship has gone the way of the Titanic, but I might be okay with this replacement.

This was a very short chapter, so I'll include the penultimate chapter here as well. The final chapter is pretty short too, but I feel like that's going to get its own post.

--

So it's night time. Everyone's waiting, tense and nervous. Cai gives Duncan thealert, and they start moving. Carillon notes that the walls of Valgaard are higher even than the walls of Homana-Mujhar, "as if Tynstar meant to mock [him]."

I doubt that's the reason. Anyway, the place stinks of sorcery.

They make it to a side gate, which opens a crack, and Gryffth's face is on the other end. He tells them that Tynstar's not here, and they can come in and avoid the worst. As they enter, Carillon notes two bodies. Gryffth says nothing, but Carillon is grateful. Like Lachlan, Gryffth serves him loyally up to and including killing others.

They head toward the fortress proper. Eventually, they're spotted, and flame shoots up in the air. Everyone scatters. Carillon gets to chop down an Ihlini mid rune-casting. We're told Rowan's at Carillon's back, and I'm delighted to see that Gryffth is at Rowan's back. The Cheysuli have slipped down the corridors while the Homanans fight.

I'm irked that Tynstar isn't here. Honestly, this last segment is clearly here to give Carillon a bittersweet victory, but it's tacked on and thematically doesn't fit the rest of the novel. This story ended with Carillon's exile of Electra, in my opinion. The last tragic loss. Alix was barely a character in this novel, and suddenly we're meant to care about her rescue?

I feel like Tourmaline might have been a better choice for this really. We've had far more build up for THAT relationship in this book, and thus this might not seem so abrupt.

Carillon is fighting, but his condition is a factor:

Even as I brought up my sword I felt the twinge shoot through both hands. In all my practice with Cormac I had not been able to shed the pain of my swollen fingers. As yet they could still hold a hilt, but the strength I had taken for granted was gone. I had to rely more on quickness of body than my skill in elaborate parries. I was little more than a man of average skill now, because of Tynstar.

Gosh, imagine if you weren't a man of average skill?

Anyway, Gryffth and Rowan seem to be doing well, so Carillon heads into the fortress. He has a fun encounter with an Ihlini, in which his attempt to ward the guy off with a torch, leads to the Ihlini calling on his god with indistinct words, and accidently catches himself on fire.

Then Carillon hears Alix's voice. And for all my complaints about this diabolus ex machina plot, I can't deny she gets a good moment:

I ran. I rounded the corner and brought up my sword, prepared to spit someone upon it, but I saw there was no need. The Ihlini lay on the ground, face down, as the blood ran from his body, and Alix was kneeling to take his knife. She already had his sword.

She spun around, rising at once into a crouch. The knife dropped from her hand at once as she took a two-handed grip on the sword. And then she saw me clearly and the sword fell out of her hand.

Badass.

Though really, she's not looking too great:

She was so pale I thought she might faint where she stood, but she did not. Her eyes were huge in a bruised and too-thin face. Her hair hung in a single tangled braid and she wore a bedrobe stained with blood. It was not her own, I knew, but from the man she had slain. She's also horrified by Carillon's condition, though really, she'd likely have seen him during his coma.

But well, it's a stressful time. Maybe she forgot. She asks after Duncan, as he leads her out. Carillon reassures her, then asks how she tricked the Ihlini. Basically, the guy had unlocked her door to take her somewhere, and she burned his knife-hand with a torch.

When Carillon asks how she is, she withdraws a bit. She'll tell him another time. Oh no.

They make their way around the tower. Alix knows of a way out. In the process, they see Duncan on the wall.

He spun around like an animal at bay. His eyes were startled and fearful. “No!” he shouted.

Alix jerked free of my hand and started to run toward him, calling out his name, but something in Duncan’s face made me reach out and catch her arm. “Alix—wait you—”

This...might be significant.

Anyway, Duncan tells Carillon to get her free. And we see why he's freaked out: suddenly a thunderclap breaks over their heads. The light is blinding, and Tynstar is there. Okay, now things have gotten interesting.

Or not. Duncan repeats that they need to get her free. Carillon obeys.

When they get to the horses, Carillon gets Alix on his own. She's protesting, of course. But he shouts that he trusts Duncan's wits and will. Also, the stone animals are coming to life and attacking. Fortunately, Carillon knows how to fight as cavalry. It's admittedly quite exciting. Especially as vents open up in the ground to scald the poor horse. Eventually, they're thrown off as the horse is caught by the creature. They run.

Alix, by the way, is barefoot, and her robe is torn and burned away in places. Ouch. She doesn't complain. They make it to a screen of trees where they can hide and catch their breath. Carillon's feeling his age. Alix is sympathetic, and notes that Tynstar has touched them all. He asks if he harmed her. She won't speak about it. She thanks him.

He notes that her son will be Prince of Homana.

“You did not do this for Donal.”

I sighed. “No. I did it for you, for myself…and for Duncan. Perhaps especially for Duncan.” I set my swollen hand to her head and tousled her tangled hair. “He needs you, Alix. More than I ever thought possible.”

She did not answer. We sat silently, close together, and waited for the others.

This is a nice bit of growth, that falls a little flat when we remember that the Carillon-Alix relationship has been almost non-existent in this book. Between his epic gay bromance with Finn and his obsession with Electra, Alix has only rarely been on his radar.

Anyway, one by one, people return. Carillon realizes that four Cheysuli were left behind. A high toll for an already diminished race.

On the other hand:

Rowan came finally at dawn. He and Gryffth were mounted on a single horse, riding double from the defile. Blood had spilled from a head wound to stain Rowan’s leathers dark, but he seemed well enough, if weary. He prodded Gryffth with an elbow and I saw how the Ellasian drooped against Rowan’s back. I got up, feeling the pop in both knees, and reached out to steady Gryffth’s dismount. He had a wound in one shoulder and a slice along one forearm, but both had been bound.

HORSE SHARING. <3

Alix checks Rowan's head wound and I'm reminded of how I'd always wished we'd gotten a scene with the two and a discussion about their respective feelings of being between two cultures.

Actually, it looks like we lost more than just the four Cheysuli:

Alix moved away from him. For a moment she looked at the others, all wounded in her rescue, and I saw how it weighted her down. Of us all, I was the only Homanan. The others, save Gryffth, were all Cheysuli.

Poor Alix. It's about to be worse though.

Duncan arrives, and their reunion is emotional:

He stepped down and caught her in his arms, crushing her against his chest. His cheek pressed into her tangled hair and I saw the pallor of his face. Blood still ran from the wound in his left arm. I saw how it stained his leathers and now her robe. But neither seemed to care.

Carillon steps back to give them space. Duncan tells Alix that he's well, she shouldn't fear for him. But Carillon realizes something's very wrong.

Alix, still pressed against his body, shook her head. I could not see her face, but I could see his. His exhaustion was manifest. Like us all, he was bloodstained and filthy and stinking of the breath of the netherworld. Like us all, he was hardly capable of standing.

But there was something more in his eyes. The knowledge of terrible loss.

Oh...well.

Duncan sits Alix down on a nearby stump and then starts slowly removing the gold jewelry from his arms, as well as his earring. He puts them in Alix's lap. Carillon realizes that, though fully clothed, Duncan is naked without his gold.

And a dead man without his lir.

Alas. Duncan. I spent one book hating you so much. You were the single worst character in Shapechangers. So bad that I actually started hating Finn marginally less. Even in this book, when Finn improved dramatically, you've remained useless and annoying.

But Alix has been through so damn much already.

Slowly, tentatively, trembling, she put out her hands to touch him. Gently at first, and then with possessive demand. I saw how dark her fingers were against the flesh of his arms that had never known the sun, kept from it by the lir-bands for nearly all of his life. I saw how she shut her hands upon that flesh as if it would make him stay.

This is crushing. I don't give a shit about Duncan. But ALIX.

She doesn't want to let him go. But fortunately, Duncan finds a way to make ME feel better about all this:

“Do you think I will let you go?” she demanded. “Do you think I will stand meekly by while you turn your back on me? Do you think I will do nothing?”

“No. And that is why I will do this—” He caught her before she could move and cradled her head in his hands. “Cheysula, I have loved you well. And for that I will lessen your grief—”

“No!” She tried to pull out of his arms, but he held her too well. “Duncan—” she said, “—do not—”

As she sagged he caught her and lifted her up. For a moment he held her close, eyes shut in a pale, gaunt face, and then he looked at me. “You must take her to safety. Take her to Homana-Mujhar.” He tried to steady his voice and failed. “She will sleep for a long time. Do not worry if, when she wakes, she seems to have forgotten. It will come back. She will recall it all, and I do not doubt she will grieve deeply then. But for now…for us both…this ending is the best.”

...thank you, Duncan, for being such a fucking asshole that you're not even giving her a way to say goodbye.

I hate you so much. Go fuck off and die already.

Anyway, Carillon doesn't protest this. He just asks after Tynstar. Unfortunately, Tynstar's still alive. Because Duncan is fucking useless. He walks away and the chapter ends.

So anyway, there's one final chapter left. It's a short one. I'm tempted to do it tomorrow, just to finish this up. No promises.

Comments

[kalinara]

I like your headcanon!