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Inheritors of Power (The Broken Trust, Band 3) - Softcover

Buch 3 von 3: The Broken Trust

Wade, Juliette

 
9780756418014: Inheritors of Power (The Broken Trust, Band 3)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0756418011 ISBN 13: 9780756418014
Verlag: DAW, 2022

Inhaltsangabe

The third book of The Broken Trust continues an epic struggle for power, kindled in the hearts of two brothers, as it spreads to crack the foundations of their underground society.

Many years have passed since the Eminence Nekantor and Heir Adon seized power, and life in Pelismara has found a fragile equilibrium under Nekantor’s thumb. Now the Imbati Service Academy suspects that Xinta, Manservant to the Eminence, may have taken control of Nekantor for his own sinister purposes, endangering what peace still remains. Imbati Catín, an Academy prodigy, vows service to Adon, balancing two core purposes — to advance her Master's designs on power, and to determine the full extent of Xinta's influence.

When a trash hauler named Akrabitti Corbinan walks into a place he doesn’t belong, everything falls out of balance. Catín, who is investigating this newly discovered hidden library, immediately arrests Corbinan for trespassing. Nekantor then seizes Corbinan, believing he's a spy who sought to topple the government, and Xinta vanishes him before Catín can determine his intent. What was Corbinan really seeking? What dangerous information does the library contain, that Xinta might seek to control? And what might happen if someone more dangerous finds Corbinan first?

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Juliette Wade never outgrew of the habit of asking "why" about everything. This path led her to study foreign languages and to complete degrees in both anthropology and linguistics. Combining these with a fascination for worldbuilding and psychology, she creates multifaceted speculative fiction that holds a mirror to our own society.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

1

Chapter One

Certified

At age twelve, Imbati Catín had secretly sworn she'd be the one to crack the Heir—an ambition so presumptuous she didn't even tell her mother. The Heir, Grobal Adon of the First Family, had been twenty-two at that time, tall and dark-haired with a ready smile, and so well-dressed that his every style innovation swept across the noblemen of the Pelismara Society. Members of the Imbati servant caste knew to be careful around him, because he had a talent for reading servants' faces. He was a regular topic of concern when her mother and the other Masters of the Imbati Service Academy dined together, because he was the only nobleman in all Varin who regularly interviewed Academy students, but never hired a single one.

Once, when she was fifteen, holding her breath outside the bronze door of her mother's office, she'd heard her tell a senior student, "Grobal Adon's first and only manservant, Dexelin, died by suicide." It seemed obvious that a Master who knew how to read his servant's face would also understand the Imbati's fundamental vocation, and the exhortation Imbati, love where you serve. She concluded that the Heir and his Dexelin had loved each other as was proper, and that meant the Heir would have been devastated by his loss, which would explain why he'd never attempted to find such a relationship again.

Her classmates in the gentleman's training were more cynical. They argued that the Grobal nobility had grown toxic in its inbred decline, and that therefore the Heir was responsible for his Dexelin's suicide; they called her speculations sentimental. Their belief in the Heir's evils hadn't stopped them trying to impress him, however, and every year Master Arkad, who taught Details, invited his senior classes to try to figure him out. "Observe him. Notice everything. The answers will be there." He always sounded so certain—and no one had sharper eyes than Arkad—but if he knew the answers himself, he kept them deep inside his heart. The Heir remained alone.

Her own senior year with Master Arkad had come when the Heir turned twenty-nine. Catín received special permission from the Household Director to take messages that allowed her to cross the Heir's path and observe. She also got the Director's help to arrange an interview with a minor member of the team responsible for maintaining the Heir's suite. She wrote up the results of her research in a paper suggesting, among other things, that the Heir hated and feared his older brother, the Eminence Nekantor, and that his ready smile hid loneliness and loss. Master Arkad had praised her for attempting to see the Heir as a person, and had been one of six Masters who recommended her for certification.

Then, yesterday, Grobal Adon of the First Family had inquired after her, requesting an interview. She almost wished he'd done it before she'd had to turn in her paper—but of course she consented to be reviewed. A paper was only an assignment; the true puzzle was the man.

She came into the interview resolved to see him as a person, but maintaining sufficient energy and concentration made her feel like she was floating outside her own body. Face to face, the Heir was strange, nervous—meeting her eyes often, as other nobles never had, and obviously engaged in some internal struggle. Though his manner was polite, his expressions were complex. And trying to solve him like a puzzle, and answer his questions at the same time, made seeing him as a person . . . quite a challenge.

There was only one possible solution to untangle the layers of detail in her head. The moment she got back to the Academy she sat down at the steel desk in her mother's office and spent over an hour writing down copious notes on everything she could remember, as if she still had Master Arkad looking over her shoulder.

At last, the fruits of her labors were arrayed in front of her, and a suspicion had snagged in her mind. If she'd put this in her Details paper, no one would have believed it.

"I got you," she whispered. "I think." She flipped through her notes, re-checking the two critical moments.

The Heir asks, "Are you ready to face Arissen weapons?" I begin an answer but he interrupts, "I mean, describe how—" He quickly cuts himself off. As he does this, a flush rises from his neck to his cheeks; he looks at his hands and then to the wall on my right. "Sorry."

The Heir says, "It's possible that my brother Nekantor would threaten you in order to influence me." Two-second pause. "The Eminence. You know." He looks at a painting of the city of Selimna on my left, and then casts his glance down to where the stone wall meets the floor. "He's dangerous, and so is his manservant, Xinta." Short exhalation. "You probably know that already."

Once, she'd have called a coincidence. Twice, though? The Heir's eyes had moved in ways she recognized—patterns from the Imbati code of gaze gestures. Down-left was the apology code, which he had followed immediately by saying sorry. Right-down was the code for discomfort, and she didn't know a single person who didn't feel discomfort talking about the Eminence Nekantor.

Catín's skin prickled all down her arms; she clasped her hands and knees together in excitement. No; calm. She began a measured breath pattern. Who would believe this? She had to tell—

Her mother walked in the door, the movements of her feet swirling through her black tillik-silk dress, the manservant's lily crest tattoo across her forehead set in a stern expression.

"Mother," Catín said, "I've—"

"Tell me," her mother cut her off. "Is it possible for a manservant to control her master? To rule?"

The questions were an attack. Catín's heart raced, and her fingers twitched to hide her interview notes. No; calm. She resumed her breath pattern. This wasn't Mother asking, clearly. It was Master Katella, Hands Master of the Imbati Service Academy, in whose office she now sat.

"No," she answered. "The role of a gentleman's servant is to advise, to guide. I provide the information my Master requires in order to make an optimal decision."

Master Katella's dark eyes narrowed. "Don't think Household Director Samirya hasn't heard you talking while on duty."

Oh—was that what she meant? "That's not serious," Catín said. "That's just—I have a new friend in the messenger corps. We joke, that's all."

Mother sniffed disapproval of her choice of subjects for humor, then lashed out with another question. "Why did you consent to be interviewed by a man whose last servant is known to have taken his own life?"

"The Heir was a child when his Dexelin died," Catín said. "Many things can change in seventeen years."

"Yet, in seventeen years, Grobal Adon of the First Family has not hired a single one of the servants he has interviewed. What made you think he was worth your efforts?"

You and the other Masters asked me to figure him out. But that answer would sound presumptuous. She tried a more academic approach.

"The nation of Varin is in trouble," she said. "Every one of the Masters has agreed on that point within my hearing. The Eminence Nekantor is unstable. He has hired and fired twenty-nine manservants since his accession. The Heir, meanwhile, has had no Imbati guidance at all. Our government has been careening through cave tunnels without light. Someone must put a stop to it."

"Interesting," said Master Katella. A hint of anticipation had crept into her voice, but she lashed out again. "What about the Eminence Nekantor's Xinta, then? Do you discount him?"

She'd be a fool to discount the only manservant who had managed to stay in the Eminence's service. She'd had...

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Verlag
DAW
Erscheinungsdatum
2022
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0756418011
ISBN 13 
9780756418014
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
400
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
ankabu
service@ankabu.de

Erdweg 17
Pöttmes
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