Shalador's Lady - A Black Jewels Novel
Verlag | Penguin US |
Auflage | 2011 |
Seiten | 480 |
Gewicht | 236 g |
Artikeltyp | Englisches Buch |
Reihe | Black Jewels Vol.8 |
ISBN-10 | 045146348X |
EAN | 9780451463487 |
Bestell-Nr | 45146348EA |
Return to New York Times bestselling author Anne Bishop's world of the Black Jewels-where a Queen has emerged from the shadows to bring hope to an impoverished people...
For years the Shalador people suffered the cruelties of the corrupt Queens who ruled them, punishing those who dared show defiance, and forcing many more into hiding. And even though the refugees have found sanctuary in Dena Nehele, they have never been able to call it home.
Now that Dena Nehele has been cleansed of tainted Blood, the Rose-Jeweled Queen, Lady Cassidy, knows that restoring the land will require all her heart and courage as she summons the untested power within her, a power capable of consuming her if she cannot control it.
And even if Lady Cassidy survives her trial by fire, other dangers await. For the Black Widows see visions within their tangled webs that something is coming that will change the land-and Lady Cassidy-forever...
Leseprobe:
Terreille
Ranon stepped out on the terrace behind the Grayhaven mansion, closed his dark eyes, and raised the wood flute to his lips. Then he hesitated while a lifetime of caution warred with the hope he felt because of Lady Cassidy, the Queen who now ruled the Territory of Dena Nehele.
Because there was hope, and fledgling trust, Ranon took a breath and began to play a greeting to the sun-a song that had not been heard outside of the Shalador reserves for many, many years. Even there, it had not been played openly.
His grandfather had taught him this song and every other song the Tradition Keepers had held on to since the Shalador people fled the ruins of their own Territory generations ago and settled in the southern part of Dena Nehele. The people had thrived there and put down roots, respecting the traditions of Dena Nehele but never forgetting their own-and hoping, always hoping, that someday they would have a Territory of their own again.
It had been good land once, anda good place to live when it had been ruled by the Gray-Jeweled Queens. Then Lia died, and Dena Nehele's decline began. Queens who were backed by Dorothea SaDiablo, Hayll's High Priestess, gained control within a couple of generations. Dorothea hated the people of Dena Nehele for holding out against her for so long, but she hated the Shalador people even more because of Jared, the Red-Jeweled Shalador Warlord who had been husband and Consort to Lia Grayhaven, the last Gray Lady to rule Dena Nehele.
Because Dorothea hated Jared's people, her pet Queens ground away a little more of what was uniquely Shalador with each generation. The boundaries of the reserves where the Shaladorans had settled were whittled away until now they struggled to grow enough crops to feed themselves. The Shalador traditions were forbidden. The dances, the music, the stories-all were taught in secret and at great risk.
His paternal grandfather was a Tradition Keeper of music. A strong, quiet man, Yairen had been-and still was-a respected leader in Eyota, the village where Ranon had grown up. He was also a gifted musician who believed it was his duty to teach the young how to play the songs that had shaped the Shalador heart.
The Province Queen who controlled that reserve broke Yairen's hands as punishment for teaching the forbidden-and then broke them twice more. When they healed the last time, Yairen could barely hold a flute, much less play one. But he still taught his grandson, and he taught him well, despite the crippled hands.
So this music had been a secret for most of Ranon's life. Even when he admitted to playing the flute, he never played within the hearing of anyone he couldn't trust-and even then, he rarely played the songs of Shalador.
Did the Queen he now served understand how much trust was required for him to stand here and play the music of his people? Probably not. Lady Cassidy had recognized his reluctance to play, but not even Shira, the Black Widow Healer who was his lover, understood how deeply fear and hope had twined in his heart these past few days as the flute's notes floated on the air and became a part of the world. Yes, he was afraid, but the hope of something new and better was the reason he stood here, in a place that had been a stronghold for the twisted Queens, and played music that had been forbidden.
As one song followed another, Ranon let his heart soar with the notes and fill with a joyful peace.
"How long do you have to spend serenading the little green things before you can have breakfast?"
He opened his eyes and lowered the flute. The peace he'd felt a moment before vanished as Theran Grayhaven stepped out on the terrace.
He and Theran didn't like each other. Never had. But he detected nothing in the question except polite interest.
"A quarter of an hour." Ranon glanced at the hourglass hovering in the air next to him. Judging by how much sand w