Dramatis Personae
In the City of Tressia
Josiri Trelan Member of the Tressian Privy Council
Malachi Reveque First Councillor of the Privy Council
Stantin Izack Master of the Knights Essamere; Member of the Tressian Privy Council
Anastacia Psanneque Definitely not Lady Trelan
Vladama Kurkas Captain of the Trelan Hearthguard
Lilyana Reveque Tressian Noble, wife to Malachi Reveque
Sidara Reveque Daughter to Malachi and Lilyana Reveque
Constans Reveque Son to Malachi and Lilyana Reveque
Altiris Czaron Fugitive
Vona Darrow Captain of the Tressian Constabulary
Hawkin Darrow Steward to the Reveque household
Leonast Lamirov Member of the Tressian Privy Council
Erashel Beral Member of the Tressian Privy Council
Messela Akadra Member of the Tressian Privy Council
Elzar Ilnarov Tressian High Proctor; Master of the Foundry
Konor Zarn Peddler of wares and influence
Sabelle Mezar Member of the Grand Council
Adbert Brass Sergeant of the Trelan Hearthguard
Dregmeet
Apara Rann A vranakin, a cousin of the Crowmarket
Inidro Krastin Pontiff of the Parliament of Crows
Karn Athariss Pontiff of the Parliament of Crows
Endri Shurla Pontiff of the Parliament of Crows
Erad Nyzad Kernclaw
Koldra Vranakin Rogue
In Defence of the Border
Roslava Orova Knight of Essamere; The Council Champion
Sevaka Psanneque Captain of the Tressian Fleet
Riego Noktza Castellan of Ahrad
Emilia Sarravin Commander of the 7th regiment
Indro Thaldvar Borderer captain
Zephan Tanor Shieldbearer of the Knights Essamere
Halan Gavrida Lieutenant of the 11th
Of the Hadari Empire
Kai Saran Hadari Crown Prince, King of Rhaled
Melanna Saranal Hadari Princessa, daughter of Kai Saran
Sera Lunassera; a devoted servant of Ashana
Kos Devren Rhalesh Warleader
Aeldran Andwar Prince of Icansae
Naradna Andwar Prince of Icansae
Haldrane Spymaster; Head of the Emperor’s Icularis
Elsewhere
Viktor Akadra Champion of the Tressian Council
Armund af Garna Thrakkian outcast
Ardothan af Garna Thane of Indrigsval
Inkari af Üld Ceorla of Indrigsval
Arlanne Keldrov Reeve of Ardva
Gone, But Not Forgotten
Malatriant Tyrant Queen of Old, known as Sceadotha in the Hadari Empire
Ebigail Kiradin Disgraced member of the Privy Council
Aelia Andwar Princessa of Icansae
Anliss af Garna Thrakkian outcast; sister to Armund af Garna
Divinities
Lumestra Tressian Goddess of the Sun, known as Astarra in the Hadari Empire
Ashana Hadari Goddess of the Moon, known as Lunastra in Tressia
The Raven The God of the Dead, Keeper of Otherworld
Jack o’ Fellhallow God of the Living Lands
Astor Lord of the Forge, Keeper of Skanandra
Tzal The Unmaker
The Nameless Lady Inheritor of Mantles Past
Endala Goddess of Wave and Wind
Elspeth Daughter to Ashana
The Huntsman Ashana’s Equerry
Six Months Ago
Lunandas, 28th Day of Frosthold
Of seven, six sprang from Dark of Old.
One drowned. One sleeps. One waits.
The fourth sets blood awry with gift of self.
The fifth bargains all to ruin.
The last yearns for treasure lost.
Gods do as they please,
never knowing their roles are set.
But it is a poor story that changes not in the telling.
Excerpt from The Undawning Deep
The moon blazed in the field of stars and the royal city of Tregard reached up to embrace her. Filigree patterns laid into flagstone and wall glowed bright with whorl of root and branch, supplanting the blocky buildings of day with a silver forest whose limbs offered worship to regal Ashana.
A goddess who no longer spoke to Melanna Saranal as once she had.
Melanna released her grip on the balcony and strove for joy amidst melancholy. No room for sorrow this night. By dawn, everything for which she’d striven would be hers. No longer a mere princessa of the Silver Kingdom of Rhaled, but recognised heir to the imperial throne – the first woman acclaimed so.
But the cost…
Storeys below, crowds gathered beneath skeletal birch trees. Tregard had emptied for this moment. Despite the hour. Despite winter’s lingering cold. Thousands upon thousands of citizens gathered beneath Mooncourt Temple’s alabaster walls, standing vigil until the toll of twelfth bell proclaimed a worthy soul had claimed the imperial crown.
Gentle hands bound the last black tress of Melanna’s hair with jewelled chain.
“Ashanal. The hour is upon us.”
“Thank you, Sera.” Melanna gazed out across the shining city to Ravenscourt Temple’s brooding spires. The black stone lay ever in shadow, unyielding as the promise of death, and implacable as the embrace of Otherworld’s mists. “I wanted to see the city one last time. We’ll never be quite the same, it and I.”
“You will bring it only prosperity, Ashanal.”
Ashanal. The title that marked her as a daughter of goddess as well as Emperor. Fit for one who’d walked with Ashana since her earliest years. But no more. Not since Melanna had allowed a scion of Dark to escape her grasp. She longed to hear Ashana’s voice. She’d begged. But the silence in her prayers had stretched through the turning of leaves and the harsh bite of winter.
Melanna set her back on Tregard’s splendour. Always so hard to read Sera’s expression behind the silver half-mask that left all but her eyes and the olive skin of her jaw concealed. Melanna couldn’t even be certain of the handmaiden’s age. Sera’s ready vigour spoke to youth, perhaps as brief a tally as Melanna’s own nineteen winters. Indeed, in complexion and build they were twins. But the poise Melanna envied belonged to a greater span.
What would Sera say if she knew the truth? She was lunassera, handmaiden to the Goddess, driven to serve Melanna by faith more than friendship. But Sera remained inscrutable, and Melanna found, once again, that she couldn’t raise herself to the confession.
A bright peal rang out. The eighth bell of coronation ritual, welcoming dignitaries into the temple’s heart. The ninth would call Melanna to her father’s side. The eleventh would invite the Goddess to grant her blessing. It had gone unanswered for decades out of mind.
Sera stepped aside in a swish of close-fitting white robes and drew aside the balcony’s drape with graceful precision.
“Come, Ashanal. Even for royalty, punctuality is politeness.”
Melanna returned Sera’s smile, though she shared little of its warmth. She crossed the threshold, exchanging the crisp silver of the midnight sky for the glow of torchlight. Sera followed with soundless tread, pulling closed the drapes and the etched glass door.
Two mannequins waited between hearth and changing screen. Melanna traced fingertips across the golden scales of the nearest, the scars of battle long since repaired. The armour alone was challenge to tradition, but not so much as the sword belt laid alongside. Though they were otherwise equal to men in all things, women did not fight wars. They did not bear swords – not even a divine gift, as was the Goddess’ silvered blade – and because of that, could not rule. On the second mannequin, the threads of a golden gown shone like sunlight – as different from the black cotton dress she currently wore as night from day. Armour of a different sort, worn to draw attention to the wearer’s body, and thus guard her thoughts.