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COLD IRON: Volume 1 (The Malorum Gates, Band 1) - Softcover

Buch 1 von 2: The Malorum Gates

LEICHT, STINA

 
9781481427777: COLD IRON: Volume 1 (The Malorum Gates, Band 1)

Inhaltsangabe

Prince Nels is the scholarly runt of the ancient Kainen royal family of Eledore, disregarded as flawed by the king and many others. Only Suvi, his fraternal twin sister, supports him. When Nels is ambushed by an Acrasian scouting party, he does the forbidden for a member of the ruling family: He picks up a fallen sword and defends himself.Disowned and dismissed to the military, Nels establishes himself as a leader as Eledore begins to shatter under the attack of the Acrasians, who the Kainen had previously dismissed as barbarians. But Nels knows differently, and with the aid of Suvi, who has allied with pirates, he mounts a military offensive with sword, canon, and what little magic is left in the world.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Stina Leicht is a science fiction and fantasy writer living in central Texas. She is the author of Persephone Station and Loki's Ring, as well as the Mallorum Gates and Fey and the Fall series. She has been a Astounding Award for Best New Writer finalist twice and also shortlisted for the Crawford Award. 

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Cold Iron

NELS

ONE

It was late, but Nels couldn’t sleep. Worries concerning the morning's journey circled his skull until he grew to hate the look of his bed curtains. Worse, when he had slept, he'd had terrible nightmares. He told himself that prognostication didn’t run in his family line and the dreams were meaningless. Nothing seemed to help. The nightmares fomented feelings of nameless dread until the need to flee his bedchamber in search of company was huge.

Captain Karpanen might still be awake, he thought.

A fire in the hearth cast his room in ruddy shadows. Grabbing a thick velvet robe, he crept through his private parlor. Then he exited into the chilly darkness of the outer hallway, the door shutting behind him with a quiet click.

Placing a hand on the cold stone wall, he shuffled into darkness. The sound of his feet against the palace's stately marble floors echoed down the hallway. There were no carpets. They had yet to be replaced—a casualty of one of Nels's pranks. Marble chilled his bare feet until it was painful to walk. His trailing fingers brushed against a painting, almost sending it crashing to the floor, but he caught it and straightened the picture as best he could in the dark. He then resumed his journey. Taking the first left, he spotted warm light pooling at the bottom of the door at the end. He listened before knocking and then entered.

In contrast to the rest of the palace, the captain’s sitting room was spare and precise. As usual, it made entering seem like a visit to a foreign country. What furniture there was was of Ytlainen make, carved from birch and decorated in intricate geometric patterns. This, in contrast to the current Eledorean fashion of organic curves and swirls. A lone painting graced the wall above the fireplace. It was a landscape depicting an unfamiliar mountain and executed in loose brush strokes. Unlike any work of art Nels had ever seen, it was his favorite. Up close, it appeared to be nothing but flat strokes of color. However, if he viewed it from across the room, the picture took on more depth and reality. Made of soft purples, blues, and greens, it'd taken him an entire afternoon to realize that there was no black pigment in it at all. That in itself was unusual, given that it hung in a soldier's apartments. Nels had always assumed the painting originated from the Kingdom of Ytlain like its owner. Never having been outside of Eledore, let alone the city of Jalokivi, he didn’t know for sure.

Nels surreptitiously shut the door behind him. His nose was immediately met with a comforting mix of old incense, warm candle wax, and burning charcoal.

Captain Karpanen paused and then placed a wicked-looking dagger between a beeswax candle and his saber on the birchwood altar table. Several other items were arranged on the table's surface, among them a small, stoppered brown bottle, a black bowl of herbs, and a second ceramic bowl painted dark blue. The ornate blue bowl contained white sand and a single piece of glowing charcoal.

“What are you doing?" Nels asked, eager to put his nightmares behind him.

Karpanen was dressed in a loose, worn evening robe of faded green linen decorated with an ornate Ytlainen pattern. Even the cut of the sleeves was foreign. Nels hadn’t seen anyone else in the palace wear anything like it, and he had the impression it was older than he was. The collar of a white silk nightshirt half escaped the frayed robe.

He's not wearing any black, Nels thought. It struck him as a little more than daring. He's in his own rooms. He can do what he wants, can’t he? In Eledore, the color was used to set soldiers apart. It served as a warning. Soldiers were unclean. Mother says the Ytlainen don’t keep Blood Custom, not like Eledoreans do.

A small silver medal with the figure of a horse embossed on it hung off a silver chain around Karpanen’s neck. His feet were bare, and his long, light brown hair rippled down his back. It looked as though he'd only just freed it of its braid. That was unusual for Karpanen. He was normally exacting and tidy. It gave Nels a bad feeling.

The quiet hiss from the charcoal filled an expectant silence.

Karpanen at last spoke in a cool tone. “Did I say you could enter?"

“I knocked like you asked. But you didn’t answer.”

“It's late, Nels. I might have been entertaining someone.”

Aged fifteen—almost sixteen—Nels was annoyed that the captain thought him too young to understand. “You aren’t. I listened at the door first. Anyway, I asked Lady Karita months ago if you had a lover, and she said you didn’t. You don’t even keep an auto­maton.” He'd added that last bit to demonstrate worldliness and then regretted it when he spied a flash of insult in Karpanen’s unyielding black eyes. “You’ve no lover at all. At least, not since you moved into the palace.”

The Eledorean royal court was a dangerous place. As crown prince, Nels had learned early that he couldn’t afford ignorance. Therefore, he paid regular bribes in exchange for information.

“Hasn’t anyone told you that spying on people is impolite?" Karpanen asked.

“Sure,” Nels said with a shrug. “You do. All the time.” He gave the captain his most charming smile. “Doesn’t stop me, though.”

“Too bad,” the captain said in a patient tone that bordered on amused.

“No one tells me anything,” Nels said. “How else am I to know what's going on?"

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?"

Relieved that the offense had been forgiven, Nels relaxed. Of course, the mistake would run over and over in his mind later, and he'd think again and again about what he should’ve said. He never seemed to learn. Unlike his twin sister, Suvi, he was always saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Luckily, Karpanen rarely stayed angry with him.

Nels stepped farther into the room. “Is this a soldier's ritual?" There wasn’t anyone around to be shocked by his curiosity. Showing off ill-gotten knowledge, he pointed at the contents of the black bowl. “That's sandalwood, isn’t it?"

“That would be one of the ingredients.” Karpanen sounded almost pleased. His irises changed from hard black to a warm gray.

“And clove oil? That's clove oil.” Nels pointed at the little brown bottle. “That's for keeping rust off blades. Oh! I know. This is a cleansing ritual, isn’t it?" He'd stolen—borrowed—one or two of Karpanen’s books on martial practices. Of course, he'd done so one at a time and returned each before Karpanen could notice the loss. “Will you show me how?"

“You know good and well such things are forbidden.”

“Show me anyway. Please?" Nels stepped closer to the birchwood altar table with its silver inlay design. “You promised you would one day. I won’t tell anyone. I swear.”

“I can’t. Your mother—”

“Oooooooh! Is that blood?" Nels pointed at the saber lying on the table. He'd heard that there'd been an execution earlier in the day. He didn’t know the details. No one of quality spoke openly of blood or death, nor did they associate with those who dealt in them. In any case, the execution wouldn’t have involved anyone he knew, other than Karpanen. Karpanen’s responsibilities—in addition to watching over the queen and the crown prince—included standing in as royal executioner whenever Nels's father, King Henrik Ilmari, demanded it.

That seemed an odd combination of duties...

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