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Authors: Jr. L. E. Modesitt

Cyador’s Heirs

BOOK: Cyador’s Heirs
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For Kellen Scott Dukes, heir in his own right

 

Characters

Lephi

   

Emperor of Cyador (deceased)

Mairena

   

Empress of Cyador (deceased)

Kiedron

   

Duke of Cigoerne, son of Lephi and Mairena

Xeranya

   

Healer and consort of Kiedron

Emerya

   

Healer, daughter of Lephi and Mairena

Phortyn

   

Majer, commander of Mirror Lancers

Jhalet

   

Submajer, second in command, Mirror Lancers

Altyrn

   

Majer (stipended), former commander of Mirror Lancers

Maeroja

   

Consort of Altyrn

Lephi

   

Eldest son of Kiedron and Xeryana

Lerial

   

Second son of Kiedron and Xeranya

Ryalah

   

Daughter of Kiedron and Xeranya

Amaira

   

Daughter of Emerya

Atroyan

   

Duke of Afrit

Rhamuel

   

Arms-Commander of Afrit, brother of Atroyan

Khesyn

   

Duke of Heldya

Casseon

   

Duke of Merowey

Tyrsalyn

   

Third Magus of Cyador, First Magus of Cigoerne

Saltaryn

   

Magus, tutor of Lerial

 

Contents

Title Page

Copyright Notice

Dedication

Characters

Map: The World

Map: Hamor

Prologue

Cigoerne

I

II

III

IV

V

VI

VII

VIII

Teilyn

IX

X

XI

XII

XIII

XIV

XV

XVI

XVII

XVIII

XIX

XX

XXI

XXII

XXIII

XXIV

Cigoerne

XXV

XXVI

XXVII

XXVIII

XXIX

XXX

XXXI

XXXII

XXXIII

XXXIV

XXXV

XXXVI

Teilyn and Beyond

XXXVII

XXXVIII

XXXIX

XL

XLI

XLII

XLIII

XLIV

XLV

XLVI

XLVII

XLVIII

XLIX

L

LI

LII

LIII

LIV

LV

LVI

LVII

LVIII

LIX

LX

LXI

LXII

LXIII

LXIV

LXV

LXVI

LXVII

LXVIII

LXIX

LXX

LXXI

LXXII

LXXIII

LXXIV

LXXV

LXXVI

LXXVII

LXXVIII

LXXIX

LXXX

To Cigoerne

LXXXI

LXXXII

LXXXIII

LXXXIV

LXXXV

Tor Books by L. E. Modesitt, Jr.

About the Author

Copyright

 

PROLOGUE

The boy and the girl sit on a carved wooden bench in the shade beside the small courtyard fountain. He has pale white skin, unruly red hair and a strong straight nose just short of being considered excessive. Her hair is black, as are her eyes, and her skin is smooth, if the light tan of aged parchment. Her name is Kyedra. His is Lerial.

Four guards watch them. Two wear white long-sleeved tunics with faded green trim, and bear scarce cupridium blades in worn scabbards. The other two sport silvered iron breastplates over dull crimson short-sleeved tunics. Their shortswords are of dark iron, carried in oiled leather scabbards that are more like large knife sheaths. The Lancers in green watch the guards in crimson, while the guards in crimson watch the boy. No one watches the girl, who fingers a heavy brocade head scarf that she has let slip to reveal some of her hair and her lower face, an act that would be severely condemned were she of lesser rank, older, or in public.

“Why are your guards called Lancers?” She finally breaks the silence.

“They’re supposed to be called Mirror Lancers, but no one except the family or other Lancers calls them that. I forget why.” Lerial has not forgotten. He would prefer not to explain, especially when speaking the Hamorian of Afrit, but since the girl just introduced to him as Kyedra less than a quarter glass before speaks no Cyadoran, he has no choice but to speak in her tongue.

Once more, the two do not speak for a time, until the girl asks, “Does your name mean something special in your tongue?”

Lerial considers what he should say for a moment before replying. “My grandfather was the Emperor Lephi. One of my ancestors was the Emperor Kerial. My grandmother felt I should be named after both.”

“There are no Emperors in Hamor. There never have been.” Her voice is firmly serious.

“They were Emperors of Cyador,” declares Lerial.

“The land that the sea destroyed?”

“The sea only destroyed Cyad. That was the capital … and maybe Fyrad. The Accursed Forest destroyed most of the other cities and covered the land with endless forest. That was why we came to Hamor.”

“My father says you never should have come. He says that Afrit will never be the same.”

Lerial knows not to say anything about that. “Why did your father bring you here?”

“He said I should see Cigoerne. He said it was different.”

Lerial can feel that there is more she has not said. “Is it?”

Kyedra nods solemnly.

“How is it different?”

“I thought it would be smaller, and that all the people would be taller.”

“Why? Because we have held the river for years against the Heldyans?”

“Father doesn’t like them. He likes them less than you.”

“What about the raiders from the south?”

“He doesn’t like them either. They smell bad, he says.”

Lerial nods and waits.

“How did you come to Hamor?” Kyedra asks after another long silence.

“You don’t know the story?”
Surely, the daughter of the Duke of Afrit should know that,
thinks Lerial.

“I know the sea destroyed Cyador … Cyad, anyway. You came across the Great Western Ocean on a white metal ship. You threatened to sink all the ships in the harbor at Swartheld. My grandfather allowed your father—”

“My grandmother. The Empress. Go on.”

“My grandfather allowed your grandmother to purchase these lands. That’s what I know. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“My grandmother was the Empress. She gathered the Mirror Lancers and the Magi’i onto the
Kerial.
That was the last fireship. They got out of the harbor at Cyad just before the big waves smashed and swallowed everything. Then they took the ship to Fyrad, but the entire city was gone. There was just a big bay there. All the towns along the coast were gone, too. So she ordered the captain to cross the ocean to Hamor. Some people died. When they got to Swartheld … well, you know that part. Then the fireship carried them up the river here, and the Magi’i and the Lancers began to build. My grandmother told them what to do. The fireship stopped the Heldyans and the raiders from Merowey from coming downriver and bothering people. That was what Grandmother promised.” Lerial stops and looks at Kyedra, then says, “It wasn’t that simple. That’s what…” He does not finish the sentence, realizing that he doesn’t want to admit that it was his mother who had told him that building Cigoerne and expanding the lands controlled by the Magi’i had been anything but simple.

“What about your grandmother?” asks Kyedra.

“I told you about her.”

“You said what she did. You didn’t say what she was like. Was she ugly, the way…” The girl stops.

Lerial does not press, knowing that someone, perhaps her father, had said that about his grandmother. “She was kind to me, but she didn’t put up with any misbehavior. She even swatted my brother.”
Lephi deserved it. He was hurting the cat that lived in the stable.
“She was grand and tall, and no one argued with her. Not any of the Magi’i or the Mirror Lancers. Not even my father, and certainly not my aunt.”

“Your aunt?”

“Emerya.”

BOOK: Cyador’s Heirs
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