Honor's Paradox (ARC)

277 Pages·2016·1.4 MB·English

by  Hodgell P C

Honor’s Paradox-ARC
P.C. Hodgell
Advance Reader Copy
Unproofed
BAEN BOOKS by P.C. HODGELL
CHRONICLES OF THE KENCYRATH
The God Stalker Chronicles (omnibus containing God Stalk and Dark of the
Moon)
Seeker’s Bane (omnibus containing Seeker’s Mask and To Ride a Rathorn)
Bound in Blood
Honor’s Paradox
HONOR’S PARADOX
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are
fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2011 by P.C. Hodgell
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof
in any form.
A Baen Books Original
Baen Publishing Enterprises
P.O. Box 1403
Riverdale, NY 10471
www.baen.com
ISBN 13: 978-1-4516-3762-5
Cover art by Clyde Caldwell
Maps by P.C. Hodgell
First Baen printing, December 2011
Distributed by Simon & Schuster
1230 Avenue of the Americas
New York, NY 10020
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

t/k
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Pages by Joy Freeman (www.pagesbyjoy.com)
Printed in the United States of America
I would like to thank all the fine folk
who have responded to my LiveJournal entries at
http://tagmeth.livejournal.com with everything
from literary criticism to encouragement
to information on parasitical fish.
A special thanks to those who have given me
permission to use their poetry in the current work:
Tiel Aisha Ansari—“Massacre at Gothregor”
Cindy Duckert—“Shwupp”
Ry Herman—“What the Dead Know”
Paul Howat—“Ashe’s Limerick”
Paula Lieberman—“The Three Lordans”
Scott Life—“The Highlord Calls”

CHAPTER I
Songs in the Night
Winter 64
I
“Gerridon Highlord, Master of Knorth, a proud man was he. The Three People
held he in his hand—Arrin-ken, Highborn, and Kendar—by right of birth and
might.”
The Tentir cadets listened intently as the haunt singer Ashe limped back and
forth before the great hall’s fireplace. Flames outlined her black-robed form. A
hood overshadowed her face, but they caught glimpses of its haggard lines as she
turned. She chanted hoarsely rather than sang and accompanied herself with a
small lyre on which she struck chords apparently at random.
The song itself was as old as the Fall, three thousand years ago. Some
believed every word of it. Others thought that the Singers’ cherished prerogative
of the Lawful Lie had played a role in its composition or at least in its
transformation over the millennia. So much had been lost in the flight to this
world, Rathillien, that much of the past has become garbled. So, at least, many
claimed, the Caineron loudest of all.
“Wealth and power had he, and knowledge deeper than the Sea of Stars.”
This too was old news: so had their lords. The self-styled Highborn had ruled
over the lowly Kendar almost without restraint since the withdrawal of the
catlike Arrin-ken who had served as their judges and mediators. Some lords
were good, others . . . demanding. “The gentle brush of our lord’s whim,” as
another old song put it; “The crack of his displeasure.”
“But he feared death.”
Eyes jerked up at a discordant note and a sudden squawk from Higbert. The
tip of Ashe’s little finger had broken off as she struck her lyre and had flipped
into the Caineron’s mug of cider. He threw both vessel and contents aside,
perhaps by accident into the lap of Gorbel, his lord’s heir. Gorbel retrieved the
partial digit and returned it to the singer without comment.
“My thanks, Lordan,” said Ashe, pocketing it. “I will sew it back on later.”
The cadets watched this transfer intently, reminded, as if any need be, that the
haunt singer was herself neither alive nor quite dead.
As would-be randon, death was to become a way of life for them, both their
own and that of anyone under their command. Would they be strong enough to
make such mortal decisions? An honorable death bought freedom—from their
lords’ dominion, from their hated Three-Faced God who had set them such an