Текст книги "Маска Зеркал (ЛП)"
Автор книги: М. А. Каррик
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Драматургические личности
Рената Виродакс, она же Аренза Ленская, аферистка
ДВОРЯНСТВО
Дом Акреникс
Эрет Гисколо Акреникс – глава Дома Акреникс
Каринчи Акреникс – его мачеха
Сибиллат Акреникс – его дочь и наследница
Фадрин Акреникс – двоюродный брат
Дом Косканум
Эрет Налдебрис Косканум – глава Дома Косканум
Марвисал Косканум – его внучатая племянница
Бондиро Косканум – его внучатый племянник
Фаэлла Косканум – его сестра
Дом Дестелио
Эра Кибриал Дестаэлио – глава Дома Дестаэлио, Прасинет в Синкерате
Дом Экстакиум
Эрет Суреджио Экстакиум – глава дома Экстакиум
Парма Экстакиум – двоюродная сестра
Дом Финтенус
Эглиадас Финтенус – двоюродный брат
Дом Индестор
Эрет Меттор Индестор – глава дома Индестор, Каэрулет в Синкерате
Меззан Индестор – его сын и наследник
Бреккон Симендис Индестрис – женился на представительнице дома Симендис
Дом Новрус
Эра Состира Новрус – глава Дома Новрус, Аргентет в Синкерате
Бенванна Эккино Новри – ее последняя жена
Иаскат Новрус – ее приемный наследник
Дом Квиентис
Эрет Скаперто Квиентис – глава дома Квиентис, Фульвет в Синкерате
Дом Симендис
Эрет Утринци Симендис – глава дома Симендис, Иридет в Синкерате
Дом Трементис
Эра Донайя Трементис – глава дома Трементис
Леато Трементис – ее сын и наследник
Джуна Траементис – ее дочь
Джанко Трементис – ее покойный муж, бывший глава дома Трементис
Крелитто Трементис-отец Джанко, бывший фульвент и глава дома Трементис
Летилия Трементис – сестра Джанко, ранее носившая имя Лецилла
Колбрин – слуга
ДЕЛЬТА ДЖЕНТРИ
Танакис Фиенола – астролог и инскриптор, работающий на Иридет
Агниет Серсель – командир Вигила
Людоги Кайнето – лейтенант Бдения
Римбон Бельдипасси – восходящий успех
Орручио Амананто – вездесущий дворянин
ВРАСЦЕНЦЫ
Грей Серрадо – капитан в Вигиле
Коля (Якослав) Серрадо – брат Грея
Кошар Юрески Андрейек – предводитель Стаднем Андуске
Идуша Надюльская Полойны – радикал в Стадном Андуске
Далисва Младосская Корзецу – внучка главы клана Киралы
Мевени Племаская-Стравеши-а-сорса
Иврина Ленская – мать Рена, изгоя
УЛИЦА
Деросси Варго – криминальный авторитет и предприимчивый бизнесмен
Никори – один из лейтенантов Варго
Павлин Раньери – констебль в Бдении
Аркадий Кости – босс крупнейшего узла в Шамбле
Дваран – смотритель "Зевающего карпа
Оксана Рывчек – дуэлистка
Тесс-сестра Рена
Седж – брат Рена
Ондракья – бывший лидер Пальцев
ИНОСТРАНЦЫ
Кайус Сифигно – он же Кайус Рекс, он же Тиран, завоеватель Надежры
Варуни – послан для защиты инвестиций в Варго
Рук – разбойник
Глоссарий
Адвокат: Лицо, имеющее лицензию на ведение дел в Чартерхаусе, обычно от имени благородного дома.
Альта/Алтан: Титулы, используемые для дворян, не являющихся главами домов.
Аргентет: Одно из пяти мест в Синкерате, к которому обращаются как «Ваша элегантность». Аргентет следит за культурными делами города, включая театры, фестивали и цензуру письменных материалов.
ажа: Наркотик, изготовленный из порошкообразных семян. Врасценцы верят, что ажа позволяет им заглянуть в Сон Ажераиса, хотя обычно о нем говорят как о галлюциногене.
Сон Ажераиса: Это место, называемое вкрашенцами «царством разума», является многослойным отражением мира бодрствования, как в прошлом, так и в настоящем, как это может быть метафорически выражено.
Ча: Титул, используемый при обращении к врашенцу.
Каэрулет: Одно из пяти мест в Синкерате, к которому обращаются как «Ваша милость». Керулет следит за военными делами города, включая тюрьмы, укрепления и бдения.
Церемония Соглашения: Ритуал, посвященный подписанию мирного соглашения, которое положило конец войне между городами-государствами Врашан и Надежра, оставив последний под контролем знати Лиганти. В церемонии участвуют зиемец и члены Синкерата, она проводится каждый год в Ночь колоколов.
Чартерхаус: Резиденция правительства Надежры, где находятся офисы Синкерата.
Синкверат: Совет из пяти членов, который является правящим органом Надежды с момента смерти Тирана. У каждого места есть своя сфера ответственности. См. Аргентет, Фульвет, Прасинет, Каэрулет и Иридет.
Род: врасценцы традиционно делятся на семь родов: Аношкин, Дворник, Ижраний, Киралий, Месзарос, Стрецко и Варадий. Ижрани вымерли несколько веков назад после сверхъестественного бедствия. Каждый клан состоит из нескольких креце.
Эра/Эрет: Титулы, которыми называли глав знатных домов.
Лица и маски: В религии врасценцев божественный дуализм, характерный для многих верований, рассматривается как заключенный в одном божестве, каждое из которых имеет благожелательный аспект (Лицо) и злонамеренный (Маска).
Фестиваль Вешних Вод: Ежегодный фестиваль, проходящий весной в Надежре, когда туман покрывает город примерно на неделю.
Фульвет: Одно из пяти мест в Синкерате, к которому обращаются как «ваша милость». Фульвет контролирует гражданские дела города, включая владение землей, общественные работы и судебную систему.
Великий сон: Священное для врасценцев событие, во время которого источник Ажерайса проявляется в мире бодрствования. Происходит раз в семь лет, во время Фестиваля Вешних вод.
Илли: нумен, связанный с 0 и 10 в нуминатрии. Олицетворяет начало, конец, вечность, душу и самость инскриптора.
имбуинг: Форма магии, основанная на ремесле, которая заставляет предметы работать более эффективно: пропитанный клинок лучше режет, не тупится и не ржавеет, а пропитанный плащ может быть теплее, водонепроницаемее или более скрытным. Также можно, хотя и сложнее, напитать представление.
инскриптор: Практикующий нуминатрию.
Иридет: Одно из пяти мест в Синкерате, к которому обращаются как «Ваше Поклонение». Иридет следит за религиозными делами города, включая храмы, нуминатрию и паломничество к Великой Мечте.
Кайус Сифиньо/Кайус Рекс: см. «Тиран».
Канина: Танец предков у врасценцев, используемый по особым случаям, таким как рождение, брак и смерть. При хорошем исполнении он способен вызывать духов предков танцоров из Сна Ажераиса.
узел: Термин, заимствованный из врасценского обычая, для обозначения уличной банды в Надежде. Члены банды отмечают свою верность амулетом в виде узелка, хотя от них не требуется носить или демонстрировать его открыто.
Кошень: врашенский платок, в вышивке которого указывается происхождение человека по материнской и отцовской линии. Обычно его носят только по особым случаям, в том числе во время исполнения канины.
Креце: (синг. куреч) врасценский род, подразделение клана. Третья часть традиционного врашенского имени обозначает, к какому куреху принадлежит человек.
Лихоше: (псевд. лихош) Врашенский термин, обозначающий человека, родившегося женщиной, но принявшего мужскую роль, чтобы быть способным вести свой народ. Отчества лихоше оканчиваются на множественное число и гендерно-нейтральный «-ске». Их аналогами являются римаше, которые рождаются мужчинами, но принимают на себя женскую роль, чтобы стать шорцами.
meda/mede: Титулы, используемые для членов домов дельты.
Ночь колоколов: Ежегодный праздник в честь смерти Тирана. Включает в себя церемонию заключения соглашений.
Нинат: нумен, связанный с цифрой 9 в нуминатрии. Олицетворяет смерть, освобождение, завершение, апофеоз и границу между обыденным и бесконечным.
Ноктат: Нумен, связанный с 8 в нуминатрии. Олицетворяет ощущения, сексуальность, деторождение, честность, спасение и покаяние.
Нумина: (синг. нумен) Нумина – это ряд чисел, 0-10, которые используются в нуминатрии для направления магической силы. Они состоят из Илли (это и 0, и 10), Униат, Туат, Трикат, Кварат, Квинат, Сессат, Себат, Ноктат и Нинат. Каждый нумен имеет свой особый резонанс с такими понятиями, как семья или смерть, а также ассоциируется с богами, цветами, металлами, геометрическими фигурами и так далее.
нуминатрия: Форма магии, основанная на священной геометрии. Произведение нуминатрии называется нуминат (pl. numinata). Нуминатрия работает, направляя силу от высшего божества, Лумена, который проявляется в нумине. Чтобы функционировать, нуминат должен иметь фокус, через который он черпает силу Лумена; на большинстве фокусов изображено имя бога, написанное древним письмом Энтаксн.
рисунок: В культуре врасценцев «узор» – это термин, обозначающий судьбу и взаимосвязь вещей. Он рассматривается как дар богини предков Ажерайс и может быть понят через толкование колоды узоров.
колода паттернов: Колода, состоящая из шестидесяти карт трех мастей, называемых нитями. Прядильная нить представляет «внутреннее я» (разум и дух), тканая нить – «внешнее я» (социальные отношения), а резаная нить – «физическое я» (тело и материальный мир). Каждая нить содержит карты без аспектов и с аспектами, последние из которых указывают на наиболее важные Лица и Маски в религии врасценян.
Прасинет: Одно из пяти мест в Синкерате, к которому обращаются как «Ваша милость». Прасинет следит за экономическими делами города, включая налогообложение, торговые пути и гильдии.
Призматиум: Переливающийся металл, созданный с помощью нуминатрии и связанный с Себатом.
Кварат: Нумен, связанный с цифрой 4 в нуминатрии. Олицетворяет природу, питание, рост, богатство и удачу.
Квинат: нумен, связанный с цифрой 5 в нуминатрии. Олицетворяет силу, превосходство, лидерство, исцеление и обновление.
Себат: Нумен, связанный с 7 в нуминатрии. Олицетворяет мастерство, чистоту, уединение, трансформацию и совершенство в несовершенстве.
Сессат: Нумен, связанный с 6 в нуминатрии. Олицетворяет порядок, застой, учреждения, простоту и дружбу.
душа: Во врашенской космологии душа состоит из трех частей: длакани, или «личной» души, сзекани, или «узловой» души, и цекани, или «телесной» души. После смерти длакани попадает в рай или ад, сзекани продолжает жить в Сновидении Ажераиса, а экани реинкарнирует. В космологии лиганти душа поднимается через нумину в Лумен, а затем снова спускается вниз для реинкарнации.
солнце/земля: Контрастные термины, используемые в культуре лиганти для различных целей. Солнечные часы длятся с 6 утра до 6 вечера; земные – с 6 вечера до 6 утра. Солнечные – это правые руки, а земные – левые. Солнечные и земные часы означают «по часовой стрелке» и «против часовой стрелки», или, когда речь идет о людях, «мужчина, рожденный женщиной» или «женщина, рожденная мужчиной».
Шорса: Чтец колоды с узором.
Трикат: Нумен, связанный с цифрой 3 в нуминатрии. Олицетворяет стабильность, семью, сообщество, завершенность, жесткость и примирение.
Туат: Нумен, связанный с 2 в нуминатрии. Олицетворяет другого, двойственность, общение, связь, оппозицию и край инскриптора.
Тиран: Кайус Сифиньо, также называемый Кайус Рекс. Он был полководцем лиганти, завоевавшим весь Врасцан, но, согласно легенде, его дальнейшее распространение было остановлено тем, что он поддался своим разнообразным желаниям. Считавшийся неубиваемым, Тиран был якобы убит венерической болезнью. Его смерть празднуется в Ночь колоколов.
Униат: Нумен, связанный с 1 в нуминатрии. Олицетворяет тело, самосознание, просветление, сдерживание и мел инскриптора.
Бдение: Основная сила закона и порядка в Надежре, прозванная «ястребами» в честь своей эмблемы. Отдельно от армии города-государства, Вигил охраняет порядок в самом городе под руководством верховного главнокомандующего, подчиняющегося Каэрулету. Их штаб-квартира находится в Аэрии.
Врасцан: название региона и свободной конфедерации городов-государств, в которую ранее входила Надежра.
Источник Ажерайса: святое место, вокруг которого был основан город Надежра. Источник существует внутри Сна Ажераиса и проявляется в мире бодрствования только во время Великого Сна. Испив его воды, можно обрести истинное понимание закономерности.
Зиемец: (псевд. зиемич) Предводители врасценских кланов, также называемые «старейшинами кланов». Каждый из них носит титул, взятый из названия своего клана: Аношкинич, Дворнич, Киралич, Мешарич, Стрецкойч, Варадич и (ранее) Ижраньич.
extras
meet the author
Photo Credit: John Scalzi
M. A. CARRICK is the joint pen name of Marie Brennan (author of the Memoirs of Lady Trent) and Alyc Helms (author of the Adventures of Mr. Mystic). The two met in 2000 on an archaeological dig in Wales and Ireland – including a stint in the town of Carrickmacross – and have built their friendship through two decades of anthropology, writing, and gaming. They live in the San Francisco Bay Area.
Find out more about M. A. Carrick and other Orbit authors by registering for the free monthly newsletter at orbitbooks.net.
if you enjoyed
THE MASK OF MIRRORS
look out for
BOOK TWO OF THE ROOK & ROSE TRILOGY
by
M. A. Carrick
Seven Knots, Lower Bank
The rookery of Seven Knots never slept. There were always babes yowling the tenements awake, dogs snuffling in the streets for scraps, laborers and skiffers and laundresses making their way between work and home. When a plaza was silent, it was a sure bet that something unpleasant was about to happen – and you didn’t want to be there when it did.
The plaza behind the Seven Knots labyrinth was shrouded in that anticipatory quiet, but Vargo was waiting by choice – by design – in the shadows of one of the many twisty passages that sprang from it. Varuni and Nikory waited beside him, with Orostin and a dozen other fists planted in the nearby alleyways to keep watch.
The only person not there by choice was Premyk, the knot-traitor who’d thrown his lot and six months of aža profits in with the Stretsko gangs. The same gangs that were creating problems for Vargo up and down the Lower Bank.
When Vargo confronted him, Premyk clearly expected to die on the spot – which just showed again that he didn’t understand his boss. Retribution would come later. Right now, Premyk was staked out in the plaza as bait, flanked by two of Vargo’s people in place of Premyk’s own. The Stretsko boss would come to take the traitor’s oath and his payment, and Vargo would be waiting to take her.
It was the sort of maneuver that couldn’t be left to his people, no matter how much Vargo would have preferred to spend the sweltering summer night at home under the cooling effects of a numinat. His back – still not fully healed from the shredding the zlyzen had given it – was beginning to itch under the layers of sweat, bandages, and brocade that swaddled it. He was losing the fight against the urge to strip it all off in search of relief, when Varuni stiffened beside him.
On the far side of the plaza, he spied movement. An older man with iron-grey braids, one ratted into the long tail of the Stretsko, emerged into the plaza.
“Foolish to be out this late, when even Ažerais lies dreaming,” he said in Nadežran-flavored Vraszenian.
After a moment of silence and a surreptitious prod from one of his guards, Premyk blurted in the same language, “But Ažerais looks out for fools and children. And w-we are her children.”
The Stretsko man gave a low, two-toned whistle that sounded like the call of a dreamweaver bird. After several tense moments, two others entered the plaza, boots clomping and shoulders hunched under the weight of a covered sedan chair.
“Wh-what?” Premyk’s voice wavered on the question as the bearers set the chair down. “Tserdev was supposed to take my knot oath herself. That was the arrangement.”
Vargo traded a look with Varuni. Every word the man spoke was another chance for him to betray Vargo and warn Tserdev of their trap.
“The boss isn’t stupid, to walk out in the open,” the Stretsko man said. “Half this district wants her netted. Hawks leave the chairs alone.” He approached Premyk, pulling out a braided cord knobbed on two ends with small wooden beads. At this distance and in the dark, Vargo couldn’t tell the colors, but he knew a knot bracelet when he saw one.
“Go on,” said the man, holding out the cord for Premyk to take. “Say your words, show your loyalty, and then Tserdev will respond in kind.”
Premyk edged back like the man was holding out a snake. Only the presence of the guards at his back kept him in place. “I…”
“Is there a problem?” The Stretsko man’s voice was silk-soft and sure, like he already knew the answer.
Enough of this theatre. Vargo stepped out of the shadowed alleyway. “It seems there is,” he said, approaching the sedan chair. The bearers only managed half a shout each before they slumped in chokeholds from Varuni and Nikory. “Premyk’s proven he has all the loyalty of a feral cat. I thought I might save your boss the trouble of being betrayed the same way he’s betrayed me.”
That wasn’t precisely true. Vargo didn’t have knot-bonds with any of his gang leaders. But less than a handful of people knew that, and Premyk wasn’t one of them.
“En’t no loyalty to be had with cuffs. Not to them, not from them,” the Stretsko man said, switching to street-accented Nadežran. He turned to Premyk, as though he had no concern for Vargo’s approach or the fact that he was outnumbered at least five to one. “You should have kept that in mind before betraying the Stretsko, slip-knot.”
“I didn’t have a choice!” Premyk wailed. “He didn’t give me a choice!”
“There’s always a choice,” the man said, drawing a knife. Vargo tensed – but instead of turning it on any of them, the Stretsko sliced the cord he was holding in half before casting it into Premyk’s face, followed by a glob of spit.
He was disarmed and on the ground a moment later, held kneeling by Premyk’s guards. Vargo pressed the tip of his cane to the man’s sternum. “That was both dramatic and unnecessary.” Then he raised his voice to address the sedan chair’s occupant. “Tserdev, why don’t you come out of there before I have my people drag you out.”
The chuckle that answered him was too low to be Tserdev’s. Vargo had the sinking realization that the Masks were laughing at him – one Mask in particular – a moment before the sedan-chair door opened and the Rook unfolded himself from within, like a black bird spreading its wings.
Vargo choked twice on his incredulous laugh at the sight of the famous vigilante ducking under the chair’s lintel – first because he thought it was some trick of Tserdev’s, then because he knew it wasn’t. No ordinary hood cast such impenetrable shadows on a man’s face.
“This fucking day,” he muttered, lifting his cane from the Stretsko’s chest, though he wasn’t stupid enough to draw the sword hidden inside. Vargo was no duelist. He couldn’t slap down a delta pup with his blade, much less a master like the Rook.
But maybe it didn’t need to come to swords. He dredged up a careless smile. “Now this is a surprise and an honor. To what do we owe the pleasure? Word is the Rook doesn’t trouble himself with knot business.” With a few twitches of his fingers, he silently ordered Varuni and the others to be ready in case his bullshitting failed.
“Knots tangling are usually no business of mine, no,” the Rook said. His voice was resonant and unplaceable. Vargo kept his gaze on the shadow where a face should have been, but there were no clues to be had. I hate not knowing who I’m dealing with.
Except he knew enough. Nadežra’s legendary outlaw, who usually only troubled himself with—
“Nobles,” the Rook said, “are a different matter.”
Fuck. All the time Vargo had spent calculating the costs and benefits of gaining the title of eret, and he’d never considered this.
Alsius, we have a small problem.
::More than one, I fear, and rather large, too. The Stretsko brought more than just the Rook. Orostin’s down, and they’ve got our people surrounded.::
Double fuck. That left Vargo with Varuni, Nikory, and the two fists set to keep Premyk in line… against the Rook.
“So this is something of a welcome?” Vargo stalled to give them time to get in place. “If I’d known you were so keen to meet, I’d have sent you an invitation to my upcoming ball and spared you having to deal with Tserdev.” He took a slow step back, two, and the Rook followed.
“Making me jockey with all the others who want a piece of you?” The Rook’s blade whispered free of its sheath. “I preferred a more intimate setting for our first dance.”
“Lucky me,” Vargo said, keeping his voice falsely light. “But as flattered as I am by the attention, my dance card is full.”
At a final tap of his finger, Varuni’s hidden chain whip coiled around the Rook’s ankle and yanked him off-balance.
And Vargo fled.
Orostin had bribed the priest to leave the back door to the labyrinth unbolted. At least that part of the operation hadn’t gone cocked. It swung open easily, and Vargo bolted it behind him. The Rook would have to scale the wall to come after him – after fighting through the mess outside.
But that was the only thing to go right. Not a moment later, three Stretsko appeared by the gate at the front of the labyrinth.
Vargo crouched, choking up on his cane. Unlike born nobles and their duelists, he didn’t have to follow any rules besides the main one: survive.
The Stretsko eyed the cane warily as they crossed the looping path of the labyrinth toward him. That gave Vargo the distraction he needed to palm a knife with his other hand and flick it into the leftmost rat. He aimed for the gut and got the arm instead, but it was enough to slow the man down as the other two charged.
He wielded his sword cane like a stick at first, trying to bull his way through. When one of the Stretsko was stupid enough to make a grab for it, Vargo twisted the sword free and cut a deep gash along her forearm. But with three on one, he didn’t have enough room to make good use of the long blade, and then one of the rats locked his arm behind him and—
::Vargo, watch out! There’s someone else here!::
A black shadow leapt from the roof, hooking a Stretsko rat and dragging him to the ground. The muck-fucking Rook, Vargo thought furiously – but it wasn’t.
The newcomer was too slender, her form obviously feminine where the Rook’s was swathed into ambiguity by coat and hood. Overlapping leather plates were layered like black petals down her chest and arms. Her dark hair was pinned to her head in a swirl of Vraszenian braids, and a mask of black rose-tatted lace broke the upper part of her face into an obfuscating pattern.
More to the point, she seemed to be helping Vargo rather than hunting him.
“I know you,” he said, frozen by the realization. “You were at the amphitheatre.”
She’d been one of the people fighting the zlyzen across the lines of the great numinat Vargo had only barely managed to destroy. He’d set people to find out more about her and gotten only children’s tales and wild gossip in return. “You’re—”
A Stretsko arm tightened around his throat before he could say the Black Rose. “Fuck off,” a rough voice snarled in Vargo’s ear, while the man’s other hand hovered ready with a knife: to cut Vargo or the Rose, whichever proved necessary.
“What disrespect, using such language in Ažerais’s sanctuary.” Her voice didn’t have the unplaceable quality of the Rook’s. It was melodiously Nadežran and definitely female, with a thin veil of amusement over cold disapproval. “Wasn’t Indestor’s desecration enough? Or will you commit murder right here on the sacred path?”
She has a point, Vargo wanted to say, but he hadn’t survived this long by turning smartass when there was a knife at his throat.
“Ažerais don’t give three blinks for the likes of this one. Kinless, knotless, and a cuff. That’s three times worthless,” the Stretsko holding Vargo snarled. But his voice and knife wavered as though the Black Rose’s words had struck true.
“If you shed blood here, it is you who becomes worthless. If he is meant to pay, pattern will bring him to you again.”
The brawl outside couldn’t be over, but inside the labyrinth, everything was quiet. The Stretsko at the Rose’s feet crawled to her friend with the knife in his arm. Helping him stand, she muttered to the one holding Vargo, “Kill him and you bring all his knots down on us. Tserdev has no wish for open war. Let’s go.”
“Him first,” the Black Rose said, nodding at Vargo. “Then you.”
Vargo had a thousand questions – but he also had a self-preservation streak as wide and deep as the Dežera. And questions could be answered by other means once he was out of this rats’ nest. He slipped away when his captor’s arm loosened, only pausing when he was at the entrance to the temple. “You have my thanks, Mistress Rose.”
Come on, Alsius. Time to go. Plunking a forro in the stone offering box, Vargo saluted them all with his cane.
Then he got the fuck out of Seven Knots.
if you enjoyed
THE MASK OF MIRRORS
look out for
THE RANGER OF MARZANNA
The Goddess War: Book One
by
Jon Skovron
When their father is murdered by imperial soldiers, two siblings set out on opposite paths – one will destroy the empire forever and the other will save it, in this thrilling new epic fantasy.
Sonya is training to be a Ranger of Marzanna, an ancient sect of warriors who have protected the land for generations. But the old ways are dying, and the Rangers have all been forced into hiding or killed off by the invading empire.
When her father is murdered by imperial soldiers, she decides to finally take action. Using her skills as a Ranger, she will travel across the bitter cold tundra and gain the allegiance of the only other force strong enough to take down the invaders.
But nothing about her quest will be easy. Because not everyone is on her side. Her brother, Sebastian, is the most powerful sorcerer the world has ever seen. And he’s fighting for the empire.
1
Istoki was not the smallest, poorest, or most remote village in Izmoroz, but it was close. The land was owned by the noble Ovstrovsky family, and the peasants who lived and worked there paid an annual tithe in crops every year at harvest time. The Ovstrovskys were not known for their diligence, and the older folk in Istoki remembered a time when they would even forget to request their tithe. That was before the war. Before the empire.
But now imperial soldiers arrived each year to collect their own tithe, as well as the Ovstrovsky family’s. And they never forgot.
Little Vadim, age eight and a half, sat on a snow-covered log at the eastern edge of the village and played with his rag doll, which was fashioned into the likeness of a rabbit. He saw the imperial soldiers coming on horseback along the dirt road. Their steel helmets and breastplates gleamed in the winter sun as their horses rode in two neat, orderly lines. Behind them trundled a wagon already half-full with the tithes of other villages in the area.
They came to a halt before Vadim with a great deal of clanking, their faces grim. Each one seemed to bristle with sharp metal and quiet animosity. Their leader, a man dressed not in armor but in a bright green wool uniform with a funny cylindrical hat, looked down at Vadim.
“You there. Boy.” The man in green had black hair, olive skin, and a disdainful expression.
Vadim hugged his doll tightly and said nothing. His mother had told him it was best not to talk to imperial soldiers because you never knew when you might say the wrong thing to them.
“Run along and tell your elder we’re here to collect the annual tithe. And tell him to bring it all here. I’d rather not go slogging through this frozen mudhole just to get it.”
He knew he should obey the soldier, but when he looked at the men and horses looming above him, his whole body stiffened. He had never seen real swords before. They were buckled to the soldiers’ waists with blades laid bare so he could see their keen edges. He stared at them, clutched the doll to his chest, and did not move.
The man in green sighed heavily. “Dear God in Heaven, they’re all inbred imbeciles out here. Boy! I’m speaking to you! Are you deaf?”
Slowly, with great effort, Vadim shook his head.
“Wonderful,” said the man. “Now run along and do as I say.”
He tried to move. He really did. But his legs wouldn’t work. They were frozen, fixed in place as if already pierced by the glittering swords.
The man muttered to himself as he leaned over and reached into one of his saddlebags. “This is why I’m counting the days until my transfer back to Aureum. If I have to see one more—”
An arrow pierced one side of the man’s throat and exited the other side. Blood sprayed from the severed artery, spattering Vadim’s face and hair. He gaped as the man clutched his gushing throat. The man’s eyes were wide with surprise and he made faint gargling noises as he slowly slid from his saddle.
“We’re under attack!” shouted one of the other soldiers.
“Which direction?” shouted another.
A third one lifted his hand and pointed out into one of the snowy fields. “There! It’s—”
Then an arrow embedded itself in his eye and he toppled over.
Vadim turned his head in the direction the soldier had been pointing and saw a lone rider galloping across the field, the horse kicking up a cloud of white. The rider wore a thick leather coat with a hood lined in white fur. Vadim had never seen a Ranger of Marzanna before because they were supposed to all be dead now. But he had been raised on stories of the Strannik, told by his mother in hushed tones late at night, so Vadim knew that was what he saw.
“Get into formation!” shouted a soldier. “Archers, return fire!”
But the Ranger was closing fast. Vadim had never seen a horse run so swiftly. It seemed little more than a blur of gray and black across the white landscape. Vadim’s mother had said that a Ranger of Marzanna did not need to guide their horse. That the two were so perfectly connected, they knew each other’s thoughts and desires.
The Ranger loosed arrow after arrow, each one finding a vulnerable spot in a soldier’s armor. The soldiers cursed as they fumbled for their own bows and let fly with arrows that overshot their rapidly approaching target. Their faces were no longer proud or grim, but tense with fear.
As the Ranger drew near, Vadim saw that it was a woman. Her blue eyes were bright and eager, and there was a strange, almost feral grin on her lips. She shouldered her bow and stood on her saddle even as her horse continued to sprint toward the now panicking soldiers. Then she drew a long knife from her belt and leapt toward the soldiers. Her horse veered to the side as she crashed headlong into the mass of armed men. The Ranger’s blade flickered here and there, drawing arcs of red as she hopped from one mounted soldier to the next. She stabbed some and slit the throats of others. Some were only wounded and fell from their horses to be trampled under the hooves of the frightened animals. The air was thick with blood and the screams of men in pain. Vadim squeezed his doll as hard as he could and kept his eyes shut tight, but he could not block out the piteous sounds of terrified agony.
