Inda

Table of Contents

Raves for
Inda

“The world creation and characterization within
Inda
have the complexity and depth and inventiveness that mark a first-rate fantasy novel. What makes the characters complex is that Sherwood Smith is not content to have good guys and bad guys. Indeed, just when we think it’s safe to hate somebody, she throws us a curve and makes the bad guy’s motives complicated and at least somewhat understandable. Everybody is able to justify his actions as being ‘in the best interests’ of the kingdom. The result is a powerful beginning to a very promising series by a writer who is making her bid to be a major fantasist after all. By the time I finished, I was so captured by this book that it lingered for days afterward. This was not convenient—I had stories of my own to write. But I was haunted. I had lived inside these characters, inside this world, and I was unwilling to let go of it. That, I think, is the mark of a major work of fiction . . . you owe it to yourself to read
Inda
.”

—Orson Scott Card

 

“Inda’s an exceptionally likeable character, and his formerly nomadic, military-centered culture is interesting as well, particularly the conspiracy of women unnoticed by most of the men. Many fans of old-fashioned adventure will find this rousing mix of royal intrigue, academy shenanigans, and sea story worth the effort.”—
Locus

 

“The book is set in a world so intricate and real that it’s hard to step out of and hard to forget. Filled with magic and glamour, it houses a culture unique for its openness and warlike ability. The crown jewel of this story is Inda, but all the of the characters spring to life with humor and interesting nicknames, as well as intriguing political agendas. Smith’s rich details and imagery tie this story together. Complex and compelling.”—
San Jose Mercury News

 

 

 

 

 

ALSO BY SHERWOOD SMITH:

 

 

INDA
THE FOX

Copyright © 2006 by Sherwood Smith.

All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

DAW Books Collector’s No. 1371.

 

DAW Books are distributed by Penguin Group (USA), Inc.

eISBN : 978-1-101-03443-9

 

All characters and events in this book are fictitious.
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

 

The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal, and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

First Paperback Printing, August 2007

 

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank my editors: Betsy Wollheim for her insightful advice, and Debra Euler for her cheerful and prompt returns whenever I had questions.

 

I’d like to thank all the people who read
Inda
in various drafts, especially my writing group, The Horse Latitudes. They patiently listened to me maunder and agonize, and gave me not just one but several reads. Finally and most gratefully, Beth Bernobich, who generously gave of her limited time to go through this story again and again for me.

 

Last, music is always problematical—a writer says
Such-and-such was my inspiration,
and the reader thinks,
I hate that band!
Still, I will pass on for anyone interested in such things: the first time I heard the soundtrack for
Amistad,
and did not know what it was, I was stunned—for the second and last tracks sounded just like the scrubs on the open plains, and the end of the sixth like the Hymn to the Fallen.

PART ONE

Chapter One

“
L
ET’S go fight the girls!”

Inda Algara-Vayir’s shout signaled the end of morning chores. Broom handles clattered against the stable walls and buckets thumped down as the boys of Castle Tenthen whooped with joy. Dawn had brought the first clear day of a late spring. After winter’s bleakness, the sunlight shafting from the still-low northern sun cheered the castle’s people going about their work.

For the young, it meant the first war game of the year.

“What’s your plan, Inda?”

“What’re we gonna do, Inda?”

Some of the older stable hands laughed as the boys romped like pups, exchanging shoves and yapping questions that no one listened to. Might as well be barks.

A hard thump across Inda’s back came from cousin Branid, the tallest and oldest of the boys. “Be a short war if the girls aren’t ready for us.” Some of the other boys paused, and Branid added, smirking, “Unless you want us to attack ’em while they’re up studying scrolls with your mother, or restringing the bows.”

Inda shook his head. “They’ll be ready. Worked it out with Tdor at breakfast. Both to finish by midmorning bells.”

The boys yelled again, then Inda said, “We’ll have a short one today. On account of the mud. Later in the week, if the ground dries, we’ll have our first overnight game.”

This time the cheer the boys sent up was very close—as close as they dared—to the notorious academy fox yip.

The girls waiting at the lakeside heard the cheer and grinned at one another in readiness.

And up on the castle walls, some of the Riders on sentry duty and the women of the Princess’ Guard who were on watch smiled, remembering the first war games of spring in their own youth, for these were the days in Marlovan history when both men and women guarded the castle walls, men outward, women inward.

One of those Riders’ sons sent a sour look at Branid, then muttered to Inda, “Liet says we’ll never get anywhere. She told me they got new ideas.”

Branid sneered. “Everyone knows Liet’s full of bran gas.” He jerked his thumb toward the forge, from which smoke rose into a still sky. To Branid, everyone’s value or truthfulness related strictly to their rank. Liet’s family were distant cousins to the Algara-Vayirs, and Liet’s brother did not train for the Riders, but worked in the forge. “Now if
Joret
said anything . . .”

“Liet?” Inda ignored Branid from habit. Yes, Tdor had grinned in a strange way while they’d talked. He’d thought it caused by spring’s arrival. So, the girls had a ruse.