The Sun Sword - The Broken Crown Part 1

The Broken Crown.

Sun Sword saga.

By Mich.e.l.le West.

NAME LIST.

DOMINION Of ANNAGAR.

dSert'of 'SdkRdws.

Annagarian Ranks.

Tyr'agar Ruler of the Dominion.

Tyr'agnate Ruler of one of the five Terreans of the Dominion Tyr The Tyr'agar or one of the four Tyr'agnate Tyran Personal bodyguard (oathguard) of a Tyr Tor'agar A n.o.ble in service to a Tyr Tor'agnate A n.o.ble in service to a Tor'agar; least of n.o.ble ranks Tor A Tor'agar or Tor'agnate Toran Personal bodyguard (oathguard) of a Tor Ser A clansman Serra The primary wife and legitimate daughters of a clansman kai The holder or first in line to the clan t.i.tle par The brother of the first in line; the direct son of the t.i.tle holder Dramatis Personae.

ESSALIEYAN.

AVANTARI (The Palace) The Royals.

King Reymalyn: the Justice-born King King Cormalyn: the Wisdom-born King Queen Marieyan (an'Cormalyn) Queen Siodonay The Fair (an 'Reymalyn) Prince Reymar: son of the Queen Siodonay & Reymaris Prince Cormar: son of the Queen Mareiyan & Cormaris Princess Mirialyn ACormaris: daughter of Queen Marieyan & King Cormalyn The Non-Royals.

Duvari: the Lord of the Compact; leader of the Astari Devon ATerafin: member of the Astari and of House Terafin Commander Sivari: former King's Champion (at the Summer Games).

The Hostages.

Ser Valedan kai di'Leonne (Raverra): the heir to the Sword of The Dominion.

Serra Marlena en'Leonne: Valedan's mother; born a slave; granted honorific "Serra" because her son has been recognized and claimed as legitimate Ser Fillipo par di'Callesta (Averda): brother to the Tyr'agnate of Averda Serra Tara di'Callesta: his Serra Michaele di'Callesta: oldest son Frederick di'Callesta: youngest son Andrea en 'Callesta: his concubine Ser Kyro di'Lorenza (Sorga.s.sa): the oldest of the hostages Serra Helena di'Lorenza: the only wife he has; he has taken no others Ser Gregori di'Lorenza: his son Ser Mauro di 'Garradi (Oerta) Serra Alina di'Lamberto (Mancorvo) Imperial Army The Eagle: Commander Bruce Allen. Commands the First Army The Hawk: Commander Berrilya. Commands the Second Army The Kestrel: Commander Kalakar. Commands the Third Army & the Ospreys THE TEN:

Kalakar.

Ellora: The Kalakar.Verms Korama: her closest friend and counselor Verrus Vernon Loris: friend and counselor.

The Ospreys:.

Primus Duarte: leaderAlexis (Sentrus or Decarus)Auralis (Sentrus or Decarus)Fiara (Sentrus)Cook (Sentrus)Sanderson (Decarus)

Berriliya.

Devran: The Berriliya.

Terafin.

Amarais: The Terafin Morretz: her Domicis Jewel ATerafin: part of her House council; also seer-born Avandar: Jewel's Domicis THE ORDER OF KNOWLEDGE Meralonne APhaniel: Member of the Council of the Magi; first circle mage Sigurne Mellifas: Member of the Council of the Magi; first circle mage SENNIEL COLLEGE Solran Marten: Bardmaster of Senniel College Kallandras: Master Bard of Senniel ANNAGAR The Tor Leonne.

General Alesso par di'Marente -par to Corano; General to the former Tyr General Baredan kai di 'Navarre: General to the former Tyr; loyal to Leonne. Widan Cortano di'Alexes: the Sword's Edge Lord Isladar of the kin: the link between the Shining Court and the Dominion THE CLANS

Callesta.

Ramiro kai di'Callesta: the Tyr.

Karro di Callesta: Tyran; half-brother (concubine's son); the oldest of the Tyran Mikko di Callesta: Tyran; half-brother (concubine's son) Garrardi Eduardo kai di'Garrardi: the Tyr'agnate of the Terrean of Oerta Lamberto Mareo kai di'Lamberto: the Tyr'agnate of Mancorvo Serra Donna en'Lamberto: his Serra Galen kai di'Lamberto: the kai (former par)

Leonne.

Markaso kai di'Leonne: the Tyr'agar Serra Amanita en'Leonne: the Tyr'agar's Serra Illara kai di'Leonne: the heir Serra Diora en'Leonne: also Serra Diora di'Marano

Ser Illara's concubines:.

Faida en'Leonne: Oathwife to Diora Ruatha en 'Leonne: Oathwife to Diora Dierdre en'Leonne: Oathwife to Diora.

Lorenza.

Jarrani kai dVLorenza: the Tyr'agnate of Sorga.s.sa Hectore kai di'Lorenza: the kai.

Marano.

Adano kai di'Marano: Tor'agar to Mareo kai di'Lamberto Sendari par di 'Marano: his brother; Widan Serra Fiona en'Marano: Sendari's wife Ser Artano: Sendari's oldest son Serra Diora di'Marano: Sendari's only child by his first wife Sendari's concubines: Alana en'Marano: the oldest of Sendari's wives lllana en 'Marano Mia en'Marano Lissa en 'Marano: given to the healer-born Serra Teresa di'Marano: sister to Adano and Sendari

Caveras.

Ser Laonis di'Caveras: healer-born; his wife is Lissa en'Caveras. THE RAD ANN Radann Fredero kai el'Sol: the ruler of the Radann Jevri el'Sol: his loyal servitor Radann Samiel par el'Sol: youngest of the Hand of G.o.d Radann Peder par el'Sol Marakas par el'Sol: contemporary of Fredero Samadar par el'Sol: the oldest of the par el'Sol THE VOYANI

Arkosa.

Evallen of the Arkosa Voyani: the woman who ruled the Voyani clan Margret of the Arkosa Voyani: her chosen "heir"

Havalla.

Yollana of the Havalla Voyani: ruler of the clan.

BIRTH.

I: ASKEYIA.

th ofHenden, 411AA Averalaan, the Common.

Children were always the worst.

Five years spent cramping knees at the feet of Levee, the most notorious healer on the isle of Averalaan Ara-marelas, had drilled into Askeyia a'Narin the fundamental lessons about how to be a healer in the Real World. But although she could now walk past crippled men, injured women, people in pain so great that they hid it behind enough ale to flood a river, she found it hard to bypa.s.s the children.

So she did what many of the healer-born did when they went about their errands in the city outside of their walls: she dressed like one of the poorer merchants, and she kept the medallion which proclaimed her birthright-the talent with which she'd been born-hidden. It meant that the needy had to actually know who she was before they could approach her with their tales of woe.

It was so hard to say no. It was still hard. She wondered, as she pulled the edges of her woven shawl more tightly around her shoulders, if she would ever find it easy. Levee had perfected such a look of temper that people were afraid to speak to him-and he was the only healer who wore his medallion openly no matter where he traveled.

Of course, Levee also had a single brow that crossed his forehead in a dark unbroken line, and his temper suited the perpetual frown he wore; had she been injured, with nowhere to turn, she'd probably have to be paid to approach the taciturn healer.

Askeyia a'Narin had no such brow. She had no height to speak of, although she had so hoped that she would take after her father's family and grow all tall and willowy by the time she'd reached her name age. It hadn't happened; she'd slimmed down a little-hard work and a poor harvest always had that effect-but she'd only gained an inch on her mother, and her mother was, to put it politely, short.

She'd tried different hairstyles, something suitably severe, but they made her chin look chubby, and she had, although Mother knew it was childish, her vanity. She also had an uncanny ability to be recognized for what she was, although how or why she couldn't say.

Heal one of them, Levee would say sternly, and they'll follow you around like rats for the rest of your life, gnawing at your strength when you can least afford to lose it.

You think you can save the world because you're young. You can't. And if you let the pain of the world drag you in, you'll find the undertow is too strong; you'll be swept away by it, and all of the good you could have done in a long life of healing will be lost.

There are always dying men. Dying women. Dying children. They need and will always need. But you don't owe them your life, is that clear? If you were meant to live' their lives, you'd have been born them. You weren't. Those people with broken ribs or infections or illnesses- they don't care who you are; they reach for you blindly, the same way they reach for a drink. They'll drain you as dry, if you give them half a chance. You can't afford to be swallowed by those needs. Askeyia, are you listening?

She had nodded politely, thinking that Dantallon was a healer without compare, but a gentle man, a quiet one. Most of the healer's students felt that way, but they'd long since refrained from pointing him out as a counterexample. She'd tried it, once.

Of course, he's gentle, had been his reply. He's the Queen's own healer. A commoner with a cold comes near him and the Kings' personal guard will make the matter of a healing entirely moot. You, on the other hand, are far too approachable. I tell you, Askeyia, you're the softest free towner I've ever met.

Words meant to sting, and they did.

Because he was right, and she hated it.

As proof of this, as proof that his words held both sting and truth-as if words with no truth could sting at all- she looked up from her reverie and saw a woman standing in the cobbled streets of the Common. The bowers of the Rings-the ancient stands of trees that were famous throughout the Empire-caught the height of the midday sun and made of it shadow, short and dark, that pooled around the woman's feet. Her eyes were wide, her skin unnaturally pale, and the collar that framed her neck was worn to threads; Levee's second youngest healer thought that the shift she wore had once been a deep blue by the edge of color near seams that were splitting with age; it was pale now, whatever its color had once been.

Askeyia started to lower her face again-she found it easier to walk through the Common with her eyes cast groundward-but she stopped as she saw that the woman's arms were rigidly curved on either side of a bundle of cloth. A still bundle.

People were always in a hurry in the Common; they glared at the woman as they shoved their way past her, flowing to either side like a sluggish river. The woman swayed as shoulders and elbows brushed her to either side, but she stayed her ground as if rooted to it. Raising her glance from the bundle to the woman's face, Askeyia made her first mistake: she met the eyes, dark-ringed, horrified.

You couldn't meet eyes like that and turn away. You couldn't do it; you'd have to leave shreds of soul behind just to tear yourself free.

Swallowing, she glanced over her shoulder once, but there were no other healers in sight; Jonas had run ahead, and Mercy-Aristide, really, but everyone called him Mercy, for reasons which were clearly lost on Askeyia- had disappeared into a stall full of people with too many elbows for Askeyia's less prepossessing size. Neither one could see her, and what they couldn't see, they couldn't report.

Besides, it wasn't as if she was going to heal the babe. She was just-she was just going to see if the babe needed help. That was all. She was just going to take a small look; just touch the child. Nothing too dangerous. And children-well, if they were the most compelling, they were also by far the easiest to heal all across the spectrum; their ies helped.

Taking a deep breath, Askeyia a'Narin reached into her shirt and pulled out the medallion of the healer-born. It She did not look over her shoulder again. She did not wonder where Jonas and Mercy were. She held the life glittered in the sun as she laid it flat against her breast, a in her hands, and the life was almost everything. It was platinum rectangle, simple and severe, with only the why a healer couldn't freely touch the injured or the dying golden glow of two hands, palm up, to alleviate the stark-at her level of skill; the call was almost impossible ness. No one in the city could mistake the medallion itself to ignore. Not that she would have ignored it; she was, for anything other than what it was. as Levee had said, the softest free towner that he had The flash of light cut the shadow and drew the woman's attention, and although she made no move as Levee ever met.

She brushed a stray strand of limp, dark hair from the toward Askeyia, her dark eyes lit with a hunger, a hope, curve of her cneek; it was shorn by fire, the candle's that the healer had seen so often it shouldn't have been kiss-one she'd been too tired to completely avoid. With jarring. But it was. care, she took the child from the arms of his mother.

"Healer," the woman said. Healer, I know- Askeyia lifted a hand that was at once gentle and impe- He's only a babe, she thought. It won't cost much.

rious. She held out her hands but the woman's arms, thin Babies were need define(j5 but thdr needs were si { and fragile, seemed locked in a position that she herself ^ sleeping physicai COmfort. Askeyia felt the had forgotten how to break. Shock-or worse. The ^^ ^ ^ {n a msh ag ^ h^ th h woman started to speak agam and again Askeyia lifted a inarticulate icture smells_the smells were strong-hand Of all he things that she found^ difficult the. f ^ miH j ful tearful tired> and some.

pleading was always the worst; it cut her, to hear a voice ^ angry m^ ^ v^nySh^ could nQt re<:ognize this="" "ielm="" askeyiaea'narin,"="" she="" told="" the="" woman="" gently.="" womafn,="" j"="" *e="" woman="" who="" stood="" in="" such="" desperation,="" "and="" i'm-i'm="" about="" to'start="" my="" day="" at="" the="" m^'lsfs^^^="" temple="" in="" the="" thirteenth="" holding."="" it="" was="" absolutely="" true="" "t-f="" *a.'4="" if="" hah'="" a="" 1w="" n.="" wrvu="" ^qh="" orr*rmrcin'ti="" mp="" "="" she="" p="" "if="" you'd-if="" you'd="" like,="" you="" can="" accompany="" me="" held="" out="" her="" arms="">

this chl,'td " loneliness? Not yet; not yet He was Lesso; a diminutive, Askeyia told herself, ld out her arms again. although it was a struggle to find the word. When he was This time the woman seemed to break; her feet left the hungry> he c ualled for his mother, and she came; she cobbled stones as if she'd yanked them free. "It's my waj warm when he was cold, she was sound and sight boy-he's hurt my boy-Healer, my boy-" and smell.

This close she could see the blood that trailed out oi Lesso thought that Askeyia was his mother, and when either corner of the child's mouth. He was young; no new she called him, when she held out her arms, he came with born, but not yet crawling. And as she touched his face, as ease and joy-or rather, he wailed the louder for the she concentrated, calling upon the talent that was bant sound of her voice bearing his name in the shadows of the and boon both, she knew. Ribs, thin and flexible, had foothills that led to Mandaros. She called him again, and been crushed with enough speed and force to pierce again he wailed, louder; one last time, and she was there, lungs; blood filled them, even now. He was dying. Not sc he was there; she picked him up and held him tight close to death as to threaten her should she attempt the against her, within her, bringing him back to himself, healing, but not so far that his mother had the time i] And all about her, too strong to be memory, too vis-would take to walk to the Mother's temple and wait foiceral to evoke that naive yearning, the things by which a bb k h h the healer to arrive. Not so close to death?

g y young babe knows a mother. By which, in turn, a young mother knows her child. And this was her child, this He's only a child, she thought. He's only a child. And'Lesso, this babe; this was hers, to protect and heal and children aren't so costly to call back. Everyone knows that.comfort. He fell into the cradle of her healer-strong arms and rested there as if those arms were made to do no more than hold him.

Really, as she'd told Levee a hundred times, a thousand times, healing babies was no risk at all.

Really.

But she couldn't explain the tears that coursed down her cheeks as the world returned to her eyes -to her adult eyes. Couldn't explain the way her arms tightened around the swaddling cloth, the way she pressed the babe tight, too tight, to her chest.

She spoke phrases, things meant to separate the healer from the healed-but words offered no separation.

The screaming, thin and terrible, did.

Turning, sloping groundward with the sudden disorien-tation of motion, she saw 'Lesso's mother -his terrified mother, his strong, his happy, his angry mother-chalk white, white as snow on mountain peaks.

"Healer!" she cried, pointing to a place beyond the vulnerable healer's back.

Askeyia spun again, lighter on her feet, surer now that the pounding of heart was without question her heart, not his. And as she gazed at a man who was moving from the center of the Ring beneath which she stood, she remembered what 'Lesso's mother had said.

He's hurt my boy- No healer had ever come out of the call with such speed, such terrible urgency. Was it 'Lesso's fear? Her own vulnerability? The weakness of a healing? She turned, handing the child to his mother, to his other mother, and then turned again, a single word having pa.s.sed between them: Run.