Reread of The Darkness That Comes Before, Part 16

Rereid of Prince of Nothing Trilogy

Book 1: The Darkness that Comes Before

by R. Scott Bakker

Part 5

The Holy War

Chapter 15

Momemn

Many have condemned those who joined the Holy War for mercenary reasons, and doubtless, should this humble history find its way into their idle libraries, they will blast me as well. Admittedly, my reasons for joining the Holy War were “mercenary,” if by that one means I joined it in order to procure ends outside of the destruction of the heathen and the reconquest of Shimeh. But there were a great many mercenaries such as myself, and like myself, they inadvertently furthered the Holy War by killing their fair share of heathen. The failure of the Holy War had nothing to do with us. Did I say failure? Perhaps “transformation” would be a better word.

—Drusas Achamian, Compendium of the First Holy War

Faith is the truth of passion. Since no passion is more true than another, faith is the truth of nothing.

—Ajencis, the Fourth Analytic of Man

My Thoughts

Søren Kierkegaard 19^th century existentialist philosopher taught that human desire that is beyond reason is passion and since faith is beyond reason, it is a passion. Faith drives humans to seek reality and truth that transcends the world and since we cannot intellectually. Since one cannot step outside the world and verify the truth of faith then it is hard to intellectually call it faith.

Spring, 4111 Year-of-the-Tusk, Momemn

Xinemus has finally convinced Proyas to see Achamian, and is cautioning Achamian as a slave leads them into Proyas's pavilion. Achamian sees the pavilion is disorganized, which is unlike Proyas and Xinemus answers that turmoil and crisis has gripped Proyas and he has had his staff “counting chickens,” a Conriyan phrase for futile endeavors Proyas is losing to the game to the Emperor.

Achamian prostrates himself when they enters Proyas section of the pavilion and Proyas coldly greets Achamian, calling him, “Schoolman.” Achamian asks about the raids in the valley and Proyas gets defensive about raiding other Inrithi for food. Xinemus disagrees about the proprieties of raiding fellow Inrithi and Proyas grows exasperated, pointing out that the Emperor was all but starving them with the pittance. Rudely he turns to Achamian and asks what he wants. Achamian realizes this was a mistake.

Achamian starts by asking Proyas if he remembers what he taught him all those years ago. Impatiently, Proyas remembers and quickly grows tired of Achamian “games.” Achamian carefully starts to lay his foundation for the possibility that the Holy War has been compromised Achamian is here to discover truth. Proyas asks if Achamian is here to lecture him, and Achamian replies that those days are past and he is just here to remind Proyas of what he was taught. Proyas derisively asks what he needs reminding of.

“I would merely remind you, my Prince, that when we’re most certain, we’re most certain to be deceived.”

Proyas smiled menacingly. “Ah . . . you would challenge my faith.”

“Not challenge—merely temper.”

“Temper, then. You’d have me ask new questions, consider troubling ‘possibilities.’ And what, pray tell, are these troubling possibilities?” The sarcasm was naked now, and it stung. “Tell me, Achamian, how great a fool have I become?”

In that instant, Achamian understood the depth to which the Mandate had been crippled. Not only had they become preposterous, they had become stale, a matter of rote. How does one recover credibility from such an abyss?

Achamian continues on, nonetheless, and points out that Holy War may not be as it seems. Proyas pretends astonishment and then goes on a spiel about the Emperor's “lecherous means to Restore his Empire,” to the “venal instrument of conquest and glory” of his peers to whatever vehicle the Scarlet Spire plots. Proyas asks, “What if this Holy War is in fact divine, a good in and of itself?” Achamian concedes that it's not impossible and Proyas's anger subsides and apologizes and offers the excuse that “the God tests me.” Proyas reveals that Galeoth troops led by Coithus Saubon massacred a village on similar foraging raids to Proyas and Achamian realizes that Proyas has defied Maithanet and sees hope in turning Proyas.

Achamian points this out and Proyas gets defensive and asks if the possibility of Maithanet being a Consult agent what Achamian wants him to consider. Achamian replies yes. Proyas careful says that he respects the Mandate mission and understands the “myths” that Achamian lives and asks if Achamian knows that it is blasphemy for him to consider that. Achamian understands and Proyas asks if there is actual proof of his suspicions. Achamian tells of Inrau's death in Sumna and Proyas dismiss that, since death is what would happen to any spy caught. Achamian then reveals that Maithanet can see the Few.

This forced a pause, but little else. “And you think I don’t know this? I was there, Akka! So he, like other great Shriahs before him, has the gift of seeing the Few. What of it?”

Achamian was dumbstruck.

“What of it?” Proyas repeated. “What does it mean other than that he, unlike you, chose the path of righteousness?”

Achamian protest that the dreams have become intense lately, that this has to mean something. Proyas snorts derisively. Proyas points out that Achamian is dismissive of Proyas faith about the God. When Proyas was a child, Achamian told him regarding God, “I've never met the man.” Proyas points out that Achamian has the same faith in the Consult.

His [Proyas's] voice hardened. “Faith is the truth of passion, Achamian, and no passion is more true than another. And that means there’s no possibility you could speak that I could consider, no fear you could summon that could be more true than my adoration. There can be no discourse between us.”

“Then I apologize . . . We’ll speak of this no more! I didn’t mean to offend—”

“I knew this would pain you,” Proyas interrupted, “but it must be said. You’re a blasphemer, Achamian. Unclean. Your very presence is a trespass against Him. An outrage. And as much as I once loved you, I love my God more. Far more.”

Proyas continues and says that Xinemus can continue to see Achamian, his soul is his own, but Proyas will not. Achamian, hurt by Proyas's statement, promise to leave him alone and asks only that Proyas ask Maithanet about Inrau's supposed suicide. Ask if Maithanet had him killed. Proyas asks why he would do this. “Because you loved me once,” answers Achamian before leaving. As he stood outside, Achamian mourns the death of all his students.

Inside the pavilion, Proyas asks what Xinemus disapproves of know. Xinemus asks Proyas if he felt his actions regarding Achamian were “wicked or righteous.” Proyas thinks and then answers that he felt nothing.

That night, Achamian dreams of the death of High King Celmomas and his Prophecy. The dreams plays out the same as it did in Chapter 1 with Celmomas having a vision of his son riding through the sky and his son tells him, “An Anasûrimbor would return … at the end of the world.” The High King then dies and Seswatha/Achamian mourns him.

Esmenet is shopping in a marketplace accompanied by Ertiga and Hansa, Sarcellus's body slaves. Esmenet is confused what her role is now. She is no longer a prostitute and thanks to Sarcellus, she is dressed liked the wife of a minor lord but isn't a wife. As the three shop, she notices a young man, an officer in the Eothic Guard, watching her. The man is very handsome, and Esmenet is excited by the attention. She is wearing a hasas, a linen wrapped garment popular amongst prostitutes for the way it would open on the side, revealing skin and enticing potential client. Esmenet leans over, exposing hidden flesh to the man who hungrily watches. She wonders if other women played these games in Sumna.

Esmenet notices Ertiga and Hansa giggling at her and demands to know what they are doing. Ertiga petulantly answers nothing. A spice merchant starts yelling at Ertiga for not showing respect to her mistress. Ertiga and Hansa have never acted properly with Esmenet. At first, Esmenet thought they were jealous of her, but now she suspects Sarcellus was responsible for their attitudes. Angry, she orders the girls to return to the pavilion. Ertiga sneers at Esmenet and spits at her feet.

The spice merchant starts to beat Ertiga for disrespecting her mistress and Hansa pulls her away and the two girls run off. Esmenet thanks the merchant who asks if she wants to buy any of his spices.

Esmenet realizes for the first time that she was alone since she met Sarcellus. Whenever Sarcellus wasn't around, the two slave girls were with her, watching her. She wonders if Sarcellus feared she would seek out Achamian and she is suddenly reminded of why she left Sumna in the first place.

They were watching Akka. They! He had to be told!

But then why did she hide from him? Why did she dread the thought of bumping into him each time she left the encampment? Whenever she glimpsed someone who resembled him, she would instantly look away, afraid that if she did not, she might make whoever it was into Achamian. That he would see her, punish her with a questioning frown. Stop her heart with an anguished look . . .

The spice merchant continues asking what she wants to buy and she notices the Eothic guard still staring at her and she feels a flush of heat in her loins. Esmenet decides she wants the stranger and stares back at the man. The stranger motions to the far end of the marketplace and she felt a nervous flutter. She thanks the merchant again and walks to where the stranger indicated. The stranger follows her until they reach a deserted area.

The man embraces her and she tells him that he has to pay, “No one eats for free.” Twelve silver talents is her price, and he's willing to pay until he sees her tattoo that marks her as a whore from Sumna. The man changes his mind, and won't pay more than twelve copper talents.

“Silver,” she said. Her voice sounded uncertain.

“A bruised peach is a bruised peach, no matter how you dress it.”

“Yes,” she whispered, feeling tears brim in her eyes.

“What was that?”

“Yes! Just hurry!”

Esmenet climaxes the moment the man enters her and a second time before he finishes. Afterward, the man is shamed at what he did and quickly leaves. Esmenet remains, trying to regain her composure Images of black seed on her belly flashes through her mind and she drops the copper coins.

Esmenet returns to Sarcellus's camp and finds Hansa and Ertiga bruised from the spice monger's beating. Ertiga continues to show insolence to Esmenet. Sarcellus asks where Esmenet has been and she says just walking. Esmenet thinks Sarcellus is smelling her when he reaches out and grabbed her. Sarcellus wants to have sex with her and she protests, still having the strangers seed n her.

When she's naked, Sarcellus asks who she was with. She doesn't answer and turns to the bed when Sarcellus violently grabs her. He slaps her and demands to know if it was Achamian. Hatred for Sarcellus stabbed through her and she hissed yes. Sarcellus releases her and apologized.

He embraced her—desperately. At first she remained stiff, but when he began sobbing, something within her broke. She relented, relaxed against the press of his arms, breathed deep his smell—myrrh, sweat, and leather. How could this man, so stern, more self-assured than any she had known, weep at striking someone like her? Treacherous. Adulterate. How could he—

“I know you love him,” she heard him whisper. “I know . . .”

But Esmenet was not so sure.

Achamian is surprised that Proyas has summoned him to a knoll overlooking the Holy War's camp. Proyas had realized he need Achamian and is annoyed by Achamian attitude. Achamian is curt and lacks deference and Proyas chastise him for not showing proper respect to Proyas's station. Achamian, using Proyas's diminutive name, Prosha, asks why after not even a week of being banned, did he summon him. Proyas tells Achamian that it's not his place to question him.

Achamian points out that even princes answer to reason. Proyas protests that he summoned a Mandate Schoolman based on their treaty and Achamian was just the nearest one. Proyas doesn't want to be drawn into another lecture today. Achamian, however, persists, saying he thought on Proyas's words from last time.

“What of it?”

Please, old tutor, leave this for another day!

“There’s faith that knows itself as faith, Proyas, and there’s faith that confuses itself for knowledge. The first embraces uncertainty, acknowledges the mysteriousness of the God. It begets compassion and tolerance. Who can entirely condemn when they’re not entirely certain they’re in the right? But the second, Proyas, the second embraces certainty and only pays lip service to the God’s mystery. It begets intolerance, hatred, violence . . .”

Proyas scowled. Why wouldn’t he relent? “And it begets, I imagine, students who repudiate their old teachers, hmm, Achamian?”

The sorcerer nodded. “And Holy Wars . . .”

Proyas is unsettled by that statement and quotes scripture at Achamian. Achamian scowls at him and Proyas feels disappointment from Achamian and sees pity in Achamian's eyes. Proyas tells Achamian not to judge him and wearily Achamian asks, again, why was he summoned. Proyas tells Achamian about Iryssas finding of a Scylvendi wanting to join the Holy War. Achamian is confused, asking if its a joke. Proyas's isn't sure, that why he summoned Achamian here. He expects Iryssas's arrival soon.

Proyas relates what he heard, that the Scylvendi travels with a foreign prince and a woman and that he claims to know the “Fanim manner of war.” He has defeated them and offers to share what he knows with the Holy War.

Achamian realizes that Proyas is hoping to defeat the Emperor's maneuvering with the Scylvendi. Proyas asks if Achamian has heard of the Scylvendi defeating the Fanim. Achamian says he heard of Scylvendi raiding of Fanim lands while in Shimeh. Proyas is stunned to learn that Achamian has been to Shimeh and Achamian, annoyed at the interruption, says he's been lots of places. Achamian continues, saying there was an expedition to steppes and the army, along with twenty Cishaurim, did not return.

Achamian continues, though, asking why a Sclyvendi help an Inrithi. Proyas asks if they hate us that much and Achamian asks, “Does a Momic Priest hate the bull whose throat he cuts?” For the Scylvendi, everyone else is their sacrifice which makes one joining the Holy War like … Achamian struggles with an analogy and Proyas, dismayed, says like striking a bargain with a sacrificial animal.

Proyas is dismayed and Achamian has never seen Proyas, even as a child, look so fragile. Achamian quickly points out that after Conphas's victory things may have changed. Proyas notices an approaching column and it is Xinemus, whom Proyas sent to meet Iryssas, returning with the Scylvendi.

From despair to eagerness in the bat of an eye. He’ll make a dangerous king, Achamian involuntarily thought. That is, if he survived the Holy War.

Achamian swallowed, tasted dust on his teeth. Habit, especially when combined with dread, made it easy to ignore the future. But this was something he could not do. With so many warlike men gathered in one place, something catastrophic simply had to follow. This was a law as inexorable as any in Ajencis’s logic. The more he remembered it, the more prepared he would be when the time came.

Somewhere, someday, thousands of the thousands about me will lie dead.

The nagging question, the one he found morbid to the point of sickness and yet felt compelled to ask, was, Who? Who will die? Someone must.

Me?

Achamian is chilled at the sight of the Scylvendi and Proyas asks what's wrong. Achamian remembers the dreams of the Apocalypse and the Scylvendi looks the same as those who joined the No-God two thousand years ago and Achamian has trouble sorting out the past from the present for a few moments. He stood upon ancient Kyraneas, destroyed by the Scylvendi during the Apocalypse and realized that Momemn was then a small town called Monemora.

Proyas is excited and sees in the Scylvendi someone who shares an enemy with the Nansur Empire and hopes an alliance can be made. Achamian protests, unnerved by his dreams lately, and says the Scylvendi is a heathen. Proyas points out that so is Achamian and then upbraids Achamian for giving poor counsel. Xinemus leads the Scylvendi and his party up the hill to Proyas who greets Cnaiür, praising his fierce look. The Scylvendi remains silent and Proyas frowns. Achamian tells him that Scylvendi think “wry compliments” are unmanly.

Cnaiür asks who Achamian is and spits when he learns he's a sorcerer. Proyas lets Cnaiür know he can have him delivered to the Nansur if he doesn't cooperate and asks who he is. When Achamian learns he is of the Utemot tribe, he is further unnerved. The King-of-Tribes during the Apocalypse was Sathgai of the Utemot. Achamian tells him what he knows of the Utemot.

Proyas nodded. “So tell me, Cnaiür urs Skiötha, why would a Scylvendi wolf travel so far to confer with Inrithi dogs?” The

Scylvendi as much sneered as smiled. He possessed, Achamian realized, that arrogance peculiar to barbarians, the thoughtless certitude that the hard ways of his land made him harder by far than other, more civilized men. We are, Achamian thought, silly women to him.

“I have come,” the man said bluntly, “to sell my wisdom and my sword.”

Cnaiür lies and says his tribe is dead and his people have repudiated him and he has renounced his lands and come to join the Inrithi. Proyas asks what he knows of the Kian matter of war. Cnaiür tells of the Fanim defeat at Zirkirta eight years ago. Cnaiür personally killed Hasjinnet, Skauras's son. Proyas continues questioning, asking if he knows Kianene tactics and asks if he could describe them. Cnaiür says he could. Proyas quickly relates to Cnaiür how the Empire is holding the Holy War hostage with his Indenture and how Cnaiür could be the instrument to defeat him.

Cnaiür realizes that Conphas is the Emperor's price and Proyas fears Maithanet will sell the Holy War. Cnaiür is amused that he will be “the Exalt-General's surrogate.” Achamian realizes he must hate Conphas because of Kiyuth. Proyas asks Achamian if thinks the Scylvendi is here for revenge and Achamian tells Proyas to ask him and ask who travels with them. Proyas asks why Cnaiür joined the Holy War and Kellhus steps forward, saying he is the reason.

“And just who are you?” Proyas asked of the man.

The clear blue eyes blinked. The serene face dipped only enough to acknowledge an equal. “I am Anasûrimbor Kellhus, son of Moënghus,” the man said in heavily accented Sheyic. “A prince of the north. Of Atrithau.”

Achamian gaped, uncomprehending. Then the name, Anasûrimbor, struck him like a sudden blow to the stomach. Winded him. He found himself reaching out, clutching Proyas’s arm.

This can’t be.

Proyas warns Achamian to stay silent with a glance and addressed Kellhus, saying he has a powerful name. Celmomas prophecy echoes in Achamian's head as Proyas and Kellhus speak. Kellhus says he has come on pilgrimage to “die for the Tusk.” Proyas asks who Kellhus learned of the Holy War in Atrithau and, hesitantly, Kellhus answers “Dreams. Someone sent me dreams.”

My Thoughts

Proyas black mood seems to me more about being forced to disobey the Shriahs orders against pillaging just so he can supply his men. Having to play this game with the Emperor with such Holy matters is not something Proyas is equipped to handle.

That's a low blow, Proyas, pointing out that Xinemus is Achamian's only friend. Achamian is a lonely guy.

Achamian this is not the way to bring someone to your view. You should study apologetics. It can be very difficult to covert someone of a different faith and one of the best ways is to use their own teachings to lead them to your viewpoint.

Interesting that Proyas doesn't know if he feels what he did was right or wrong in throwing out Achamian. He still cares for his tutor but is blinded by his beliefs which call Achamian an abomination.

Before Achamian Dreamed, he had a dream of Inrau warning him: “They're here, old teacher! In ways you cannot see!” Considering the skin spies, there is truth in this dream. But whether this is really Inrau or just a nightmare that happens to be true is left open.

Esmenet is not sure of her place anymore. Esmenet enjoys the attention of the handsome man because she fears getting older and her beauty fading. She charges money because she has no self worth. From the way men have treated her to the trauma she's still suffering from the Consult rape.

Esmenet figures out that Sarcellus is watching her but thinks that ridiculous. Just keep that line of thinking up, Esmenet. Trust your instincts on Sarcellus and get away from him.

Creepy, Sarcellus, smelling her. And the way he's aroused by smelling the other man on Esmenet. He almost lost control. These skin spies are a real piece of work.

Esmenet's feelings about Achamian are confused. She's afraid he will reject her after she walked all this way and she's doesn't think she can handle it. How many of us were too afraid to ask out someone we liked for that same reason and watched them slip away.

Achamian quote on faith is a great one. Acknowledging both the good and bad of faith.

The sight of Cnaiür causes Achamian to have some PTSD flashbacks to the war and he is off-balanced for the entirety of the meeting. It also makes him very suspicious of Cnaiür's actions.

Cnaiür quickly figures out why Proyas needs him and realizes he has a strong bargaining position. Lucky for Cnaiür and Kellhus that the Emperor is such a jackass. Probably, more lucky for Cnaiür since I'm sure Kellhus could talk his way out of most problems.

Poor Achamian. It must be hard to realize the end of the world is at hand.

Rereid of Fool Moon, Part 3

Rereid of the Dresden Files

Book 2: Fool Moon

by Jim Butcher

Part 3

Chapter 7

Harry enters his apartment, greets his cat, and cooks himself dinner on his wood burning stove, sharing some with his cat, Mister. When he finished, he headed downstairs to, “Let the wizardry commence.” Harry wakes up Bob, a spirit of intellect that contained a dozen lifetimes worth of magical knowledge.

“What are we doing, now?” Bob sniggered. “More weight-loss potions?”

“Look, Bob,” I said. “That was only to get me through a rough month. Someone’s got to pay the rent around here.”

“All right,” Bob said smugly. “You going to get into breast enhancement, then? I’m telling you, that’s where the money is.”

“That isn’t what magic is for, Bob. How petty can you get?”

“Ah,” Bob said, his eye lights flickering. “The question is, how pretty can you get them? You aren’t a half-bad wizard, Dresden. You should think about how grateful all those beautiful women will be.”

Bob asks Harry when he last saw Susan, lecturing him on not taking his five sense and a body for granted. Harry answers that it's been a few weeks because they've both been busy. Harry tells Bob they're going to make some potions and research werewolves. Bob reveals there are more than one type of werewolf and Bob makes a Young Frankenstein joke. Harry gives Bob a rundown on the current case as he gets his potion making supplies ready.

Harry wants to make a “pick-me-up” potion and another to make him imperceptible to a werewolf. Bob says “super-coffee” is easy, but the second one is harder. High level magic that would cost a lot of money and suggest a blending brew instead. The blending brew works by making Harry part of the background. As Harry starts making the potions, he asks Bob to fill him in on werewolves.

Bob says he's an expert on “lupine theriomorph” which is a fancy word for human to animal shape shifting such as werebears, weretigers, and even werebuffalo (apparently a favorite of Native Americans). A classic werewolf is a human that uses magic to turn into a wolf. They keep their humanity but it takes them time to learn how to function as a “smell-oriented quadrupeds.” Harry asks about silver bullets and being turned into a werewolf if bit and Bob scoffs at that as Hollywood.

The next type of werewolf is when someone transmogrify you into a wolf, which violates a Law of Magic because, eventually, the human personality is lost and they become a wolf.

Another type is the Hexenwolf. You make a pact with a demon and get a wolf-hide belt. The belt contains a spirit of rage that protects your personality and intellect when you transform and handles all the physical aspects of the wolf, making a Hexenwolf very dangerous. Downside is, the spirit of rage effects your judgment when your transformed.

Another type is the lycanthrope, a human the channels a spirit of rage. They never transform physically, just mentally. They are stronger, faster, and heal rapidly. Norse berserkers were lycanthropes, and they are born not made.

The last type is the loup-garou. Someone is cursed to turn into a wolf-demon at the full moon. This type is closest to the Hollywood werewolf. Loup-garou are fast, stronger, and almost impossible to take down. The only way to hurt one is with silver weapons made from silver that you inherit.

Harry decides to send Bob out on reconnaissance until sunrise in exchange for new romance novels. Harry agrees and Bob leaves his skull and flows out of the laboratory. As Harry waits for the potions to finish, he begins to write up his werewolf report for Murphy.

My Thoughts

Spaghettios, grilled chicken and toast is a sad dinner, Harry.

Bob continues to have his mind in the gutter.

Super-coffee potion: Base (coffee), taste (doughnut), hearing (cock's crow), smell (fresh soap), touch (washcloth), sight (beam of dawn sunshine), mind (a to-do list), spirit (cheerful music).

Blending potion: Base (water), taste (lettuce), hearing (rustle of wind) smell (deodorant), touch (white cotton), sight (plastic wrap), mind (blank paper), spirit (elevator music).

I love potion making. Shame this is the last time Harry makes potions. Come on, Butcher. There are like 14 of these books. You couldn't throw potion making into one of them.

Can't settle on which is your favorite werewolf, just use them all. I really like Butcher's ability to weave in various, often contradictory, mythologies together into Dresden's world and make it feel organic. My favorite, Hexenwolf. I like me some German.

Chapter 8

Sleep deprived, Harry goes to police headquarters the next morning to drop off the werewolf report for Murphy. As Harry heads upstairs, he notices the cops stare uneasy at him caused by the rumors he's associated with Marcone. He bumps into Susan who flirts with Harry and fishes for information on the Lobo Killings. Because of non-disclosure agreements, Harry can't tell Susan anything.

Harry asks why Susan is here and she playfully offers a trade of information. Harry gives in and tells her he's dropping off a report on werewolves. Susan tells Harry she's putting a story together on how Internal Affairs is trying to fire the best “preternatural investigator.” Susan continues to fish for information.

Susan is trying to get the supernatural to be more mainstream and her paper, the Arcane, to be taken more seriously. She hopes to get a photo of something supernatural one day. Harry points out that magical energies mess up cameras and he's worried about her safety. Susan wonders if a telephoto lens would work and Harry pointedly refuses to help her, for her own protection. Susan is angered by Harry's overprotectiveness and storms off.

Outside of SI office, Harry runs into Agent Denton who looks as tired as Harry feels. Harry tells him he needs to drop something off with Murphy and Denton warns him that she's speaking with Internal Affairs and it would be a bad time for Harry to shop up. Harry asks if Denton believes in the supernatural.

Denton straightened his tie. “What I believe doesn’t matter, Mr. Dresden. What is important is that a lot of the scum out there believe in it. It affects the way they think and operate. If I could make use of your advice to solve this case, I would, the same as any other law officer.” He glanced at me and added, “Personally, I think you are either slightly unstable or a very intelligent charlatan. No offense.”

Denton offers to take the report and drop it off for Harry. Harry agrees and hands over the report. Denton asks if he can take a look and Harry shrugs. Denton stares in disbelief at the contents and then promises to give it to Murphy. As Denton turns to leave, Harry causally asks Denton what he's holding back about the case. Denton is confused, and says he's not holding back anything and Harry has a hard time reading his body language.

Harry finds a pay phone and calls Murphy's office and lets her now Denton will be dropping off the report. Outside the building as Harry heads to his car, young Agent Harris walks up and asks if he can hire Harry. Harry is surprised, and asks why. Harris explains he has a lead but Denton won't follow up, there's not enough evidence.

Harris explains about a gang calling themselves the Streetwolves. They have a rough, spooky reputation. Rumor has it the gang has strange powers. Harry figures out that Denton actually can't go down there to poke around and wants Harry, who's outside the “legal channels” to take a look. Harry agrees, in exchange for what the FBI and CPD has on him. Harris protest, saying Denton doesn't like to bend the rules, but Harry points out that's exactly what Denton's doing. Harris agrees. As Harris walks away, Harry has a bad feeling, but thinks the gains outweigh the risks.

“Cheer up, Harry,” I told myself. “You’re just going to go poke around a biker gang’s lair. Ask them if they happen to have killed some people lately. What could possibly go wrong?”

My Thoughts

Susan and Harry continue there flirty banter, which is even more full of double etendre the last time. Susan is very passionate at getting her paper into the mainstream. And why not, she's a great reporter that could probably be very successful in the mainstream, but is passionate about the supernatural. She thinks getting photographic proof will do that, but Harry just points out that people don't want to believe in magic and things that go bump in the night.

Harry, you are far to overprotective. It backfires with Murphy and looks like its backfiring with Susan. No dinner with Susan for you.

Agent Denton is an enigma to Harry. His intuition is telling him something is off about Denton, he just can't quite figure it out. Then, Denton sends Harris to send Harry off after the Streetwolves only moments after calling Harry a charlatan and fraud. What changed is mind so fast. Something in Harry's report struck a nerve. Plus, according to Harris, it is out of character for Denton to do something so against the rules.

Chapter 9

Harry arrives where Harris told him the Streetwolves hang out and finds the FULL MOON GARAGE and is surprised how on the nose that is. As Harry looks around, he speculates if the Alphas are biker thugs/werewolves in training and that the woman is there connection with the Streetwolves.

Harry enters the garage and finds it dark inside. Harry here's movement and identifiers himself as Harry Dresden and asks to speak to the Streetwolves. Out of the darkness, a man (we later learn is named Parker) tells him to keep his hands out, they know he's both a wizard and works for the cops. Harry here's a pump action shotgun and holds his hands up while channeling energy into his shield bracelet.

Harry asks for Parker to step out of the darkness and to talk with him. Parker asks about what, and Harry asks what they know about the killings. Suddenly, Harry here's a lot of movement, maybe a dozen people, and a female voice says to kill him. Others join in, and a “kill him” chant starts. Harry feels a feral energy building in the room.

Directly in front of me, not fifteen feet away, stood the large shape of a man holding a shotgun. “Stop it,” he snarled, turning his head toward the others in the room. I could see his body responding as the energy grew, growing tenser, more ready. “Fight it. Hold it in, dammit. You can’t let it loose here. There will be cops all over us.”

When his head turned, I darted toward the doorway. I kept my left palm up and turned out toward the leader, the one with the shotgun, and held on to my shield as hard as I could.

The man fired the shotgun and the others chased after Harry. The shot was deflected by Harry's shield and Harry saw his assailants were half-naked men and women that looked like berserkers. A big man was between Harry and the door so Harry punched him and activated a ring on his hand. The ring stored kinetic energy and the force through the man six feet.

Harry makes it outside and throws himself into the Blue Beetle and frantically tries to start it. His car doesn't start. He looks up to see Parker struggling to hold the frenzied Streetwolves inside. Harry and Parker make eye contact and a soulgaze started.

I felt his emotions like they were my own. Fury beneath rigid control, the ocean beating at a tide wall. The fury was directed at me, Dresden, at the man who had invaded his territory, challenged his authority, and driven his people out of control, endangering them. I saw that he was the leader of the lycanthropes called the Streetwolves, men and women with the minds and souls of beasts, and that he was aging, was not as strong as he once had been. Others, like the woman earlier, were beginning to challenge his authority. Today’s events might tear him from leadership, and he would never live through it.

If Parker was to live, I had to die. He had to kill me, pure and simple, and he had to do it alone to prove his strength to the pack. That was the only thing that kept him from coming at my throat that very second.

Worse, he didn’t know a damned thing about the last month’s killings.

The soulgaze ends and Harry manages to start the Beetle and wildly drives off. As the adrenaline bleeds off, Harry berates himself for being so stupid. Harry realizes the pack is going to come after him. Parker has no other option. Harry considers fleeing town, but that won't solve his problems. He's a full-fledged wizard and won't go down like a chump. Harry steels his resolve, and decides he will kill Parker if it comes to that. Harry doesn't want to kill Parker, though. While Parker is not human, he's close enough for Harry to feel a great deal of self-loathing for doing it.

I didn’t want to believe that killing was deep inside of me. I didn’t want to think about the part of me that took a dark joy in gathering all the power it could and using it as I saw fit, everything else be damned. There was power to be had in hatred, too, in anger and in lust, in selfishness and in pride. And I knew that there was some dark corner of me that would enjoy using magic for killing—and then long for more. That was black magic, and it was easy to use. Easy and fun. Like Legos.

I parked the Beetle in the lot of my office building and rubbed at my eyes. I didn’t want to kill anybody, but Parker and his gang might not give me any choice. I might have to do a lot of killing, if I was going to live.

I tried not to think too much about what sort of person it might be who survived. I would burn that bridge when I came to it.

Harry heads up to his office, opens the door and finds Gentleman Johnny Marcone seated at his desk, his bodyguard Hendricks behind him. “Ah, Mr. Dresden. Good. We need to talk.”

My Thoughts

Wow. Just walk in and say, “Hi.” That is the stupidest plan you've ever had, Harry. And now, you have a gang of lycanthropes berserkers out for your blood. *Clap, clap* Way to go, genius.

Nice soulgaze and characterization on Parker. The fury held in by experience. He could let his people tear Harry apart but then the cops would be all over them. Clearly, other members of his pack are not so forward thinking and one wonders what would happen to them if Harry does kill Parker. If there's no one else in the group who has any self-control, of it that female gets control, it would probably be a bloody and spectacular end to the Streetwolves.

Berserker biker gangs. That's not something I would want after me. The only way out for Harry is to defeat Parker and maybe the entire pack. Harry, rightly so, is not looking forward to having to kill that many. Harry, as long as you're worried about how killing someone is going to affect you, you'll be fine. Its when you stop worrying about it that you're in trouble.

Rereid of The Darkness That Comes Before, Part 15

Rereid of Prince of Nothing Trilogy

Book 1: The Darkness that Comes Before

by R. Scott Bakker

Part 4

The Warrior

Chapter 14

The Kyranae Plain

Some say men continually war against circumstances, but I say they perpetually flee. What are the works of men if not a momentary respite, a hiding place soon to be discovered by catastrophe? Life is endless flight before the hunter we call the world.

—Ekyannus VIII, 111 Aphorisms

My Thoughts

Isn't that they way of life. Trying to get ahead on bills. Worrying when the next problem is going to happen: the car break down, injury, or losing your job. Just when you think eveything is fine then, bam!

Spring, 4111 Year-of-the-Tusk, the Nansur Empire

Cnaiür and Kellhus have started to travel at night across the Nansur Empire. For the first time, Serwë wakes up in the afternoon sleeping next to Kellhus. He had resisted her joining his sleeping mat for a while, but this morning had relented. Serwë enjoys the feel of Kellhus sleeping form against hers and marvels at how much she loves him and how he loves her despite her past.

Cnaiür is up and washing in a stream and Serwë watches him and fells no fear for the fist time, just pity at his loneliness. She notices a boy on the other side of the river and in her mind pleads with the boy to run. Kellhus, awake, whispers to Cnaiür in Scylvendi. Cnaiür sees the boy, and tells him to come close. Serwë yells at the boy to run and begs with Kellhus to spare the boy as Cnaiür chases him. Kellhus followed Cnaiür and Serwë realizes he also means to kill the child. Serwë follows.

As Serwë follows, it occurs to her she is no fugitive in the Nansur. This is her home and and she would not have to suffer Cnaiür anymore. However, she thinks on how Kellhus loves her, the first, and returning to the Empire would just mean more Gaunum wives and more blue babies. Serwë is pregnant and has convinced herself it is Kellhus's child.

Serwë has lost Cnaiür and Kellhus and can't locate the camp. She hers horses and believes it's Kellhus come looking for her but instead runs across two Kidruhil cavalry of the Imperial Army. She is fearful, thinking the Kidruhil have been warned by the boy and that Kellhus may be dead because of her.

The older of the two Kidruhil sees her fear and thinks Serwë must be “with them.” The pair of soldiers argue, the younger saying they don't have time for this while they older says there's always time for sport with a girl as pretty as Serwë. The man advances on her and she begs for him to spare her. The man drives his dagger into the ground as he begins to grope her.

There is a sound, and the younger man is decapitated by Cnaiür. Cnaiür asks Serwë if she was hurt, and the scarred Kidruhil begins to beg to Cnaiür, apologizing for touching Serwë.

The officer moved away from Serwë, as though to disassociate himself from his crime. “C-come now, friend. Hmm? T-take the horses. All y-yours—”

To Serwë it seemed that she’d floated to her feet, that she’d flown at the scarred man, and that the knife had simply appeared in the side of his neck. Only his frantic backhand knocked her back to earth.

She watched him fall to his knees, his bewildered hands fumbling at his neck. He threw an arm backward, as though to ease his descent, but he toppled, lifting his back and hips from the ground, kicking up leaves with one foot. He turned to her, retching blood, his eyes round and shining. Begging her . . .

Cnaiür grabs Serwë and places the knife she killed the Kidruhil at her temple. She begs for her life and Cnaiür warns her never to betray them again or he will kill her. Then Cnaiür cuts her forearm, giving her a swazond, the ritual scaring of the Sclyvendi for kill the Kidruhil and calls her by name for the first time.

“I don’t understand,” Serwë whimpered, as bewildered as she was terrified. Why was he doing this? Was this his punishment? Why had he called her by name?

You must suffer him . . .

“You are my prize, Serwë. My tribe.”

Cnaiür and Serwë find Kellhus at camp and she raced to him and hugs him fiercely and he comforts her as she cries like a father. Kellhus confronts Cnaiür and tells him that Serwë is no longer his prize. Cnaiür laughs, and says more Kidruhil come, we have killed only a dozen out of fifty. Serwë apologizes to Kellhus for warning the boy.

Cnaiür laughs, and says the boy warned know one. “What mere boy could escape a Dûnyain?” Serwë is horrified and looks at Kellhus and sees grief welling in his eyes and she feels shame, forcing Kellhus to commit this crime. Cnaiür announced they will ride the Kidruhil horses to death first.

For two days, the trio had eluded the Kidruhil thanks to the forest and Cnaiür's skill. Serwë find the next two days an ordeal. At the end of the second day, Cnaiür thinks they may have lost the Kidruhil and the make camp. Cnaiür explains that the Kidruhil would think they went west, like any raiding party would after making contact with the Kidruhil. If they found their trail heading east, the Kidruhil would think it a ruse.

They ate a meal of raw fish and Cnaiür explains they are safest in the western provinces, long abandoned because of Scylvendi raids. Once they cross the Phayus River, it will be a different matter. Serwë wonders why these two would risk this journey. The next day as they traveled, Serwë finds herself hungry. At midday, Kellhus stops and asks her is she's hungry.

“How do you know these things?” she asked. It never ceased to thrill her each time Kellhus guessed her thoughts, and the part of her that held him in reverent awe would find further confirmation.

“How long has it been, Serwë?”

“How long has what been?” she asked, suddenly fearful.

“Since you’ve been with child.”

But it’s your child, Kellhus! Yours!

“But we’ve not yet coupled,” he said gently.

Serwë suddenly felt bewildered, unsure as to what he meant, and more unsure still whether she had spoken aloud. But of course they had coupled. She was with child, wasn’t she? Who else could be his father?

Serwë starts to cry and Kellhus apologizes and tells her they will eat soon. Kellhus rides up to talk with Cnaiür and Serwë studies Kellhus and realizes she didn't speak and he sill knew her thoughts and she begins to think he is a God. She remembers in the time of the Tusk, the Gods communing with Men. Serwë begins to think that her beauty was given her because one day her betrothed, a God, would arrive.

Anasûrimbor Kellhus.

She smiled tears of rapturous joy. She could see him as he truly was now, radiant with otherworldly light, haloes like golden discs shining about his hands. She could see him!

Later, as they chewed strips of raw venison in a breezy stand of poplars, he turned to her and in her native tongue of Nymbricani said, “You understand.”

Serwë nods, and answers that she is to be Kellhus's wife and Kellhus promises her that it will be soon.

That afternoon, after crossing a valley, they catch glimpse of pursuers. Cnaiür leads them on, telling the group that these pursuers will not stop till they hunt them down. Their only advantage is reaching the plains ahead and using their extra mounts by running them to death and reach the Holy War ahead of their pursuers.

They ride until it is too dark to see, then lead their horses on foot. Serwë finds the pace almost more than she can handle. At dawn, they are able to ride their horses again and gallop over pastures. Serwë finds it exhilarating. They enter cultivated lands, passing slaves working in fields and small villas were minor nobles lived. They rode down roads know, passing teamsters who cursed at them and forcing people to dive out of their way or be trampled.

At mid-afternoon, they stop and Serwë falls off her horse in exhaustion. Cnaiür curses and Serwë looks behind them to see a dust cloud trailing them. Cnaiür asks Kellhus what he sees, and Kellhus says the same sixty-eight men, except know they have different horses. Cnaiür didn't expect them to get remounts and asks Kellhus if they could take them at night. Kellhus is unsure, but says they should press their lead and continue riding.

They continue riding into twilight when Serwë's horse, “her prize for having killed the scarred man” died and she falls hard to the ground. Cnaiür urges them to abandon Serwë. To their pursuers she's just stolen property. Kellhus, however, will not leave her.

“This is not like you, Dûnyain . . . Not like you at all.”

“Perhaps,” she heard Kellhus say, his voice now very close and very gentle. Hands cupped her cheeks.

Kellhus . . . No blue babies.

No blue babies, Serwë. Our child will be pink and alive.

“But she’ll be safer—”

Darkness, and dreams of a great, shadowy race across heathen lands.

Serwë regains conscience on Kellhus's horse, her hands tied around his waist. The three are still being chased. She looks around and realizes they have no spare mounts and the Kidruhil were closer. Cnaiür cries out a warning, as another group of horseman force the three to ride up a hill.

Three horseman erupt from some trees to intercept them, one felled by Cnaiür's bow. A second hurls a javelin at Kellhus who easily catches it out of the air and throws it back, killing the man. The third raised a sword and prepared to attack Kellhus, but was disemboweled by the faster Dûnyain.

At the top of the hill, they find a sharp drop and abandon the horses and they skid down the drop. At the bottom, Serwë hits hard and is surprised by Cnaiür concern when he gently helps her up and asks if she's fine. Kellhus is the last down and reports that they won't follow them down the slope. Cnaiür fears that others have already started to go around the hill and Serwë begins to panic because they have no horses, now.

Kellhus knelt before her, his heavenly face blotting out the sun. Once again she could see his halo, the shimmering gold that marked him apart from all other men. He’ll save us! Don’t worry, my sweet, I know He will!

But he said, “Serwë, when they come, I want you to close your eyes.”

“But you’re the promise,” she said, sobbing.

Kellhus brushed her cheek, then wordlessly withdrew to take his place at the Scylvendi’s side. She glimpsed flashes of movement beyond them, heard the neigh and snort of fierce warhorses.

A group of horseman, not Kidruhil, burst out of brush and surround them. Each wore mail skirts and had white-and-blue surcoats. Silver war masks cover their faces and Serwë thinks these men are here to save them, “to shelter the promise.” The leader identifies himself as Krijates Iryssas, one of Xinemus's knights. Iryssas asks, “Have you seen any fugitive criminals about?”

Stunned silence. At last Cnaiür said, “Why do you ask?”

The knight looked askance at his comrades then leaned forward in his saddle. His eyes twinkled. “Because I’m dying for the lack of honest conversation.”

The Scylvendi smiled.

My Thoughts

Serwë has a moment of peace with Kellhus. It seems like Serwë's lot is improving slightly with Kellhus taking an interest. Sadly, Serwë is suffering some serious Stockholm Syndrome here. She's even starting to feel pity for Cnaiür.

So, Serwë is pregnant and thinks Kellhus is the father even though this morning was they only time they've shared a bed. Serwë is delusional, but I don't blame her for wanting the man she loves to be the father than her rapist.

Gah! Just when she's thinking she'll be fine if anyone from the Empire finds her, they do and try to rape her. The irony of Cnaiür, her rapist, asking if the other rapist hurt her. Cnaiür is a dick.

Go Serwë! Stab that asshole. Great description. The shock hasn't worn off and she just finds herself killing the guy. By killing the Kidruhil, Cnaiür seems to think of Serwë as Scylvendi know. Its like in his mind she's one of his wives know. Didn't know women in Scylvendi could get a swazond. But then, Cnaiür does think outside of the norm for a Scylvendi.

Kellhus can even cry on demand. Poor Serwë, now she feels guilty for forcing Kellhus to kill the boy. Don't, Serwë, don't. You gave the boy a chance to live, don't feel guilty about that. You were the only decent human at that camp. Don't let the Dûnyain take that away from you.

Serwë is amazed that she could not only eat raw fish, but enjoy it. Hunger is the best seasoning, they say.

And Serwë now thinks Kellhus is a God. And why not, he seems to read her mind, he's kind to her. She has contextualized her years of rape and suffering as preparing her for the arrival of Kellhus. Why else was she given the gift to be so beautiful that every man who comes across her, wants her. “She was also something too beautiful for the world.” So convinced is she, that halos appear about his hands. And Kellhus allows this delusion to continue because it most benefit him. Can't blame Serwë, though. Who doesn't want to think that their suffering mattered, that all that pain wasn't in vain.

Kellhus doesn't want to abandon Serwë, even though it would increase his and Cnaiür chance of success. It's hard to say what's going through Kellhus mind right now. He must see some greater advantage with Serwë, unless seeing her tormented night after night by Cnaiür has actually affected him. He was stirred to some emotion in the last chapter and was surprised by it. I'm siding with seeing a greater advantage.

Don't know if its Serwë's concussion or delusion (probably both) that makes her think Kellhus is communicating in her mind with the “our baby will be born pink and alive.”

Kellhus comforts Serwë. Even a Dûnyain doesn't see a way out of their predicament. There's just too many hunters. And then they are saved by Xinemus's men. Even by proxy, Xinemus continues to be awesome. This was quite an exciting chapter. Luckily for them, every Man of the Tusk really hates the Nansur Empire.