In which I make an embarrassment of myself over Kagamandra Tulas. That’s… literally all you need to know.
Chapter Four
We’re somewhere called Glimmer Fate (which isn’t capitalised at least in my e-book version but I feel it probably should be if it’s the name of the place?) and it doesn’t sound like a particularly pleasant place. There are people called Wardens of the Outer Reach, there, and apparently it’s not something a lot of people want to be because the posting is so shitty.
Faror Hend, our first PoV character of the day, is apparently one of these not-many. She’s on a patrol with Spinnock Durav (!!!) and their CO Finnara Stone. The latter, however, has ridden ahead by herself, which is presumably safe because naked wolves don’t venture this close to the Vitr, which is some kind of an all-consuming sea that sounds like acid but is probably magic. (Also, the idea of naked wolves amuses me way too much.)
If the mystery of the Vitr could not be solved; if its power could not be blunted, forced back, or destroyed, then there would come a time, perhaps less than a dozen centuries away, when the poison sea devoured all of the Glimmer Fate, and so reached the very borders of Kurald Galain.
Okay so it’s also advancing. That’s mildly terrifying.
So Spinnock and Faror are cousins, which sucks for her because she’s crushing on him big time and cousincest isn’t approved of among the Tiste. Yet she contemplates the possibility anyway, because who would find out… I assure you, honey, someone always would.
Spinnock says that there are rumours that the Azathanai can make vessels capable of containing the Vitr, but Faror dismisses it, saying she can’t imagine why anyone would want to do that. This will certainly not be relevant at all. Anyway, they head towards a camp, bantering about poetry and growing older and I’m probably not alone in getting the impression that Spinnock returns his cousin’s attraction but alas, that is not to be, at least tonight.
Over to Finarra, who’s inspecting a humongous carcass by the shoreline. This is remarkable because nothing has ever washed ashore from the Vitr before. She has no idea what the thing is but she knows dragons are supposed to have wings and this one doesn’t seem to, so she concludes it’s probably not dragon but could be related to them. I’m pretty sure it’s a dragon, wings or no wings. Apparently dragons are somewhat more mythical and less factual to most Tiste at this time than at the time of the main series.
Some vagary of air current carried the heavy stench towards them and her horse backed a step, hoofs thudding the sand.
At the sound, the stump lifted.
Well, fuck.
The breath froze in her lungs. She stared, motionless, as the nearest hand dug deeper into the glittering sands. The hind limbs bunched, pushed. The torso rose and then lurched further up the beach, thumping back down heavily enough to make the shoreline shiver. The reverberation awakened in Finarra a sudden sense of danger. She backed her horse away, watching that ghastly torn stump wavering about, blindly groping. The second arm twisted round, coming up beside its companion, to sink talons long as hunting knives into the sand.
‘You are dead,’ she told it. ‘Your head has been torn away. The Vitr dissolves your flesh. It is time to end your struggles.’
A moment of stillness, as if somehow the beast heard and understood her words, and then the creature heaved forward, straight for her, crossing the distance between them impossibly fast, one hand scything through the air.
WELL, FUCK. Honestly, Finarra? Trying to have a conversation with a headless dragon might not be among your best life decisions. In fact it sounds like a phenomenally bad life decision. You could almost call it a death decision. (Only almost, though, because as I recall she survives.)
A fight ensues, if it cal be called that, and it leaves Finarra wounded and less a horse and a lance. A lance which she’d apparently had since her ‘Day of Blood’ and am I to understand this that she was given a lance when her first period came? Because that’s awesome, why don’t we do that? Here’s a pack of tampons, painkillers, and a weapon of your choice, feel free to use on the first cis male who makes a period joke.
…Anyway, moving on.
And so does Finarra. She doesn’t want to stick to the shoreline on her way back to her companions, for understandable reasons, but the way back through Glimmer Fate isn’t necessarily any safer, because of the aforementioned naked wolves. (I keep wanting to get them some clothes, ffs.)
We get a bit of world building in form of mythology:
Overhead, the swirling pattern of the stars slowly appeared, like a spray of Vitr. Legends spoke of a time before such stars; when the vault of night was absolute and not even the sun dared open its lone eye. Stone and earth were, in that time, nothing more than solid manifestations of Darkness, the elemental force transformed into something that could be grasped, held cupped in the palm, sifting down through the fingers. If earth and stone held life back then, they were little more than promises of potential.
Those promises had but awaited the kiss of Chaos, as a spark of enlivening, and as a force in opposition. Entwined with the imposition of order that was implicit in Darkness, Chaos began the war that was life. The sun opened its eye and so slashed in two all existence, dividing the worldly realm into Light and Dark – and they too warred with one another, reflecting the struggle of life itself.
In such wars was carved the face of time. Birth is born and death ends. So wrote the ancients, in the ashes of the First Days.
Which is interesting because at the time of the main series, the current creation myth is basically that Mother Dark was the creator of the universe, with some interference from Father Light. But now it seems that she (or the Tiste religion she’s trying to kickstart around herself) just co-opted an existing creation myth and inserted herself as the elemental force of Darkness. Or maybe that part was done by her priestesses, or maybe even people after she got herself shut behind the gate. We just don’t know. (Yet.)
Anyway, she never does reach her companions because in the midst of her philosophical inner monologue, she’s attacked.
And we’re back to Faror Hend and Spinnock, who are getting worried and the cries heard in the distance aren’t reassuring them in the slightest. Which is probably wise. Faror decides to go look for the captain, without Spinnock, and…
‘Faror.’
She turned. His eyes glittered above the first lick of flames from the embers. The light made his face seem flushed.
‘Be careful,’ he said. ‘I do not want to lose you.’
She thought to say something to ease him, to push him away from things lying beneath his words. To push herself away. ‘Spinnock,’ she said, ‘you have many cousins.’
…Yeah, I’m not sure you’re having the same conversation here, and I’m not sure it’s at all accidental. I’d say ‘just make out already’ but that might have more far-reaching consequences than it’s worth. Besides, you have a badly wounded captain to find.
She finds Finarra’s trail quite easily and heads off in pursuit. In order to avoid thinking of her illegally hot cousin, she’s thinking of her betrothed… who is Kagamandra Tulas (!!! I am so! here! for this!).
Few would claim that Kagamandra Tulas was handsome: his face was too thin, accentuating the gauntness that was his legacy from the wars – the years of deprivation and hunger – and in his eyes there was something hollow, like emptied shells, haunted by cruel memories that shied from the light.
Oh. Oh no. Oh Tulas. (Also, while it’s getting glaringly obvious that Tulas is the family name and Kagamandra is his given name, I seem to be unable to refer to him as anything but Tulas, because I knew him as Tulas Shorn for years before this book was ever released. What are Tiste naming conventions and how do you do them.)
She knew he did not love her; she believed he was no longer capable of love.
He just needs to meet Silchas, I’m telling you.
Born in a Lesser House, he had been an officer in Urusander’s Legion, commanding a cohort. If nothing else had ever overtaken Tulas in the wars, his station would have been of little value to House Durav. A lowborn of the Legion was no prize for any bride. Yet if love were possible – if this bitter, damaged man could earn such a thing, and learn to reciprocate in kind – then few would have opposed the union. But glory had found Tulas, and in that moment – when he saved the life of Silchas Ruin – the cohort commander had won the blessing of Mother Dark herself. A new High House would be the reward of this marriage, the elevation of Kagamandra’s extended family.
Oh Tulas. A reward? I’m sure they mean well. Also, he saved Silchas’ life? And that’s just mentioned as an aside? What do you mean we’re not getting the details?? Steven, why? Can’t you see this is important?
That said I do feel sorry for Faror, too. Her deal isn’t exactly ideal here, either. I just feel much more strongly about Tulas as a character because I already know him from the main series, and love him to bits.
Faror rides on, following the occasional cries, until she finds a bunch of dead wolves. She thinks Finarra must be dead and prepares to fight more wolves if only to recover her corpse, but then Finarra herself shows up out of the tall grasses. She tells Faror that something has come from the Vitr, Faror has trouble believing it but wants to follow the trail anyway, but Finarra insists they return to camp because she’s wounded and needs medical attention.
Over to Finarra again. She’s hurt and exhausted and worried about Faror, because apparently a lot of Tiste develop suicidal tendencies at one point or another and she’s afraid Faror feels backed into a corner between her infatuation with Spinnock and impending marriage to Tulas. I’m gonna have to quote the entire paragraph because it’s kinda pretty.
There was a lust for death, flowering black and fierce. She had seen it before, had come to believe it was a flaw among the Tiste, emerging in each and every generation, like poisonous weeds in a field of grain. The mind backed into a corner, only to then turn its back upon the outer world. Seeing nothing but walls – no way through, no hope of escape – it then longed for turmoil’s end, the sudden absence of self found in some heroic but doomed deed, some gesture intended to distract others, offering false motivations. Burying the secret desire was the goal, and death precluded all argument.
She keeps musing on what’s going on between Faror and Spinnock — is it bad that the phrase ‘exquisite torture’ just makes me think of Phèdre nó Delaunay? — and she’s not explicitly thinking it but implying that she’d considered seducing one of them herself to prevent an explosion from happening. At first I assumed she meant Spinnock, but now I think it was actually Faror.
Finally they get her on Faror’s horse behind her and she’s clearly in a bad way and has trouble holding on…
And we’re back to Faror again, and she’s admiring Finarra’s firm body. Well, maybe not quite, but it’s certainly getting some description. Anyway, they get to the camp, where Faror promptly puts Spinnock to work as they begin tending to the captain’s wounds. Once that’s done, they have a brief debate over what to do next — Faror wants to pursue the whatever came out of the Vitr, and Spinnock doesn’t want her to go on alone but Finarra needs to be taken back to what passes for civilisation around these parts. Faror, obviously, has her way eventually and they part ways.
Faror thinks she’s going to die and that Spinnock will just have to deal with it. How charming of her. She doubles back to the dead wolves and keeps following the trail… littered with more dead wolves. Then she comes to a clearing and finds what looks like a young woman, naked except for wolf hides. Well then.
She asks if the woman is Azathanai, and the woman says she recognises the word and calls them ‘the people who were never born’. That’s not ominous at all. The woman doesn’t remember anything, apparently, including her name, and Faror names her T’riss. So… Queen of Dreams. Hello. She also promises to escort her to Kharkanas, to Mother Dark, and T’riss seems to think this is a great idea. T’riss makes a mount out of the grasses to imitate Faror’s horse and off they go.
Over to someone called Sharenas Ankhadu, related to a certain Sukul Ankhadu (whom we’ve yet to meet in this book but I remember should show up soon enough). She’s also related to two somebodies called Infayen Menand and Tathe Lorat and I’m wondering if they are Menandore and Sheltatha Lore themselves or just vaguely related, because I don’t think we’ve found that out yet?
Anyway, she’s riding with Hunn Raal and Osserc, someone called Ilgast Rend, and Hunn Raal’s three cousins. The cousins are apparently sleeping with him, and such implications don’t make Hunn Raal any less repulsive, although Sharenas is considering doing that herself, too, if she can figure out a way to turn it into political gain. Just… Tiste. I don’t even know, man.
There would come a time when someone would need to take him down a few notches – for his own sake – and what he might initially believe a triumphant conquest on his part would quickly reveal a different nature. There was nothing easier than belittling a man when he lay between a woman’s legs. The effect was very nearly instantaneous and always unmistakable.
WELL. Moving on.
It was easy then to dismiss Raal’s three wet-lipped cousins. Not so easy to dismiss the last soldier in their party, who somehow managed to seem to be riding alone though he was in truth in their midst – indeed, at Sharenas’s side, upon her left. Straight in the saddle, welded together like iron blades into a man both forbidding and dangerous, Kagamandra Tulas had not spoken since leaving Neret Sorr.
We’re. Actually. Meeting.
Oh and they’re headed to the outpost where Faror Hend is stationed… And Sharenas is looking forward to the delicious drama. Oh dear. (Except that Faror Hend will not be there, but that’s another thing entirely.)
Oh, for… HONESTLY STEVEN IS THIS REALLY NECESSARY.
Kagamandra Tulas was dead inside. Every woman could see it, with but a single glance into his lightless eyes. His wounded soul had been left behind, discarded on some field of battle. He was a husk, the animation of his being grinding like worn teeth in an iron gear; it seemed Tulas did not welcome his own aliveness, as if he but longed for death, for the stillness that lay within him to seep out, poison the rest of his being, his flesh, his skin, his face, whereupon he could in his last breath thank the generosity of those who were about to inter him inside his silent tomb.
Steven why.
Indeed, who else was likely to find himself standing at Lord Urusander’s side, like the ghost of a brother, warding the clasping of hands that would join Mother Dark with the commander of the Legion? Who but Urusander would be brave and humble enough to so honour Kagamandra Tulas? And did not Mother Dark herself make a grand gesture of solemn recognition to the saviour of Silchas Ruin’s life? No, Sharenas had no doubt, Tulas would soon find himself standing next to the throne, one gauntleted hand resting on the worn pommel of his sword, his empty eyes scanning the throne room, seeking a challenge none would dare.
Why is this so perfect though. But I’ll stop with the quotes now.
Sharenas is going to offer herself as a confidante to Faror, to help her find a way out of the marriage, apparently just for the fun of it? And that may involve ruining her — that is, Faror’s — reputation, but she figures she’ll appreciate it in a century or two.
Over to Ilgast Rend, who’s not impressed with either Osserc or Hunn Raal, or the way Tiste noblemen seem to be fathering bastards left and right. Well, can’t say I much disagree, at least regarding the first two. The latter is their own business, I suppose. He respects Urusander as a commander, but doesn’t think he’d be a good king and worries that his ascension would result in bloodshed.
Yet here he rode in the company of these soldiers, sickened by the pathetic air of mischief surrounding Hunn Raal and his three vapid cousins; the febrile self-importance of Osserc as he continued to delude himself that he was leading this party; and behind Ilgast there was Kagamandra Tulas, who still faced the past war and would likely continue to do so until his dying day; and Sharenas Ankhadu – granted, the least objectionable of the trio of Legion captains who proclaimed themselves sisters of the spirit – yet he was disappointed that she was here. He’d thought her wiser, too sharp to fall into this wake of fools and be swept along like so much detritus.
Politically speaking, Ilgast falls somewhere between Urusander’s Legion and the Hust Legion, between Hunn Raal and those loyal to — what, the current way of things? Something like that. He’s not impressed with Mother Dark taking a lover; he thinks she should marry Draconus if she loves him, or dump him if she doesn’t. But he doesn’t want things to go up in flames, and so he’s seeking to talk to Calat Hustain. Hunn Raal is going to try to recruit Calat to his cause, and Ilgast figures he’s going to fail and make an enemy of him, but Ilgast is hoping to mitigate some of the damage and together with Calat find a way to keep things from blowing up. An admirable goal, but seeing that this is the beginning of the first book, highly unlikely to work.
One night, someone might well slit Hunn Raal’s throat, and he’d not be missed. Leave Urusander to his intellectual masturbations – he did no harm and besides, he had earned his last years of pleasure, no matter how dubious that pleasure might seem. Mother Dark would tire of Draconus eventually. Indeed, she might travel so far inside the sorcery of Endless Night – or whatever it was that the cult worshipped – that such physical desires were left behind. Was it not already said that she was enwreathed in bitter cold darkness day and night now?
When the Consort vanished into that darkness, what did he find?
Ilgast remembered when Mother Dark was known by her birth name; when she was simply a woman: beautiful, vivacious, possessor of unimaginable strengths and unexpected frailties – a woman like any other, then. Until the day she found the Gate. Darkness was many things; most of all, it was selfish.
Now I’m getting the most amusing mental images of a bubble of darkness, into which Draconus literally vanishes when he and Mommy Dark have a date night…
Anyway. They reach the outpost while Ilgast muses about misfits and how they must have a place in a decent society other than the alleys and slums, and that’s a wise sentiment to conclude the chapter.
Boyfriend: *calls me* Me: Uh, you kinda called me while I was watching Undertale shitposting. Boyfriend: Wow, I would not have guessed that you would have been doing that thing that you have a 100% chance of doing
send me ‡ for my character’s reaction to yours climbing into bed with mine.
Startled, Leandro turned in bed to find Jon behind him. Jon had been sleeping on the couch recently--ever since... that... incident. That fuck up. Turning onto his other side, Leandro’s hand came up to touch Jon’s face, his finger trailing down his jaw. “Olá, amante...”
