What do you think?
Rate this book
The small country of Medalon lies between the vast nation of Karien in the north and the nations of Fardohnya and Hythria in the south. For centuries the Medalonians co-existed peacefully with the Harshini, a magical race that abhors killing. But now they are gone and in their place the Sisters of the Blade rule Medalon from the Citadel. An elite army of Defenders enforces the Sisterhood's oppressive rule. The Harshini and their demons are believed to be extinct and Medalon has an uneasy peace with its northern and southern neighbours.
R'shiel Tenragan, daughter of the First Sister, and her half-brother Tarja find themselves caught up in the political infighting amongst the Sisters of the Blade. When their mother's scheming becomes too much to bear, R'shiel and Tarja are determined to follow their own path and they flee the Citadel. Their lives take a turn neither could ever have imagined and the Defenders of Medalon hunt them as traitors.
Meanwhile, far south in Hythria, Brak, a Harshini outcast, is called to find the demon child, the half-human child of the dead Harshini King, Lorandranek. But what can this mean to R'shiel...?
512 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published July 26, 2000
”Please, Lord Jenga. Bring Tarja home.”
That’s the last line of Chapter 1. In Chapter 2 we meet Tarja, who is well-liked by his men and respected by his enemies but he does not suffer fools gladly, and it comes as no surprise that he was banished for insubordination. In Chapter 3 we have R’Shiel and Tarja’s reunion. I’m not sure if they were writing each other but given the tech level I doubt Medalon boasts a reliable postal service. So R’Shiel shows up late at a reception for one of her mother’s lackeys and catches her breath because there he is, her big brother, in full dress uniform:
”Now if you will excuse me, my Lord, I see that my sister is anxious to welcome me home.”
DAMN STRAIGHT SHE IS. And he takes her arm and whisks her away so they can talk privately.
”You know, I almost didn’t recognize you. You’re all grown up.”
Last time Tarja saw R’Shiel she was fourteen. A lot happens to a girl between fourteen and eighteen. C u r v e s happen. The text doesn’t dwell on it but I guarantee you Tarja’s internal monologue is some variant of damn, my sister is hot playing on loop. There is a pretty big age gap between R’Shiel and Tarja (ten years) so he was a grown man by the time he left and she was still a girl but now they’re both adults and it could be awkward or stilted but instead they fall right back into their old rapport.
”I can’t believe you had the nerve to show up here tonight. Mother looks ready to burst something,” R’shiel laughed.
These two are united above all by their common enemy and oppressor, their mother. “I don’t think either of us has turned out quite what Joyhinia intended,” says Tarja. Their bond was forged by the anvil of Joyhinia’s parenting. At this point Tarja’s best friend Georj joins them in order to urge Tarja — who has been home less than 24 hours — to take up a gladiatorial challenge issued by an uppity young cadet.
Georg took R’shiel’s arm conspirationally. “Well, you might be too young to remember, but back in the good old days, before Tarja publicly called Trayla a fatous bitch, he was the undisputed champion of the Arena.”
”I remember,” she said, before turning to Tarja, wide-eyed. “Is that what you did? You called Trayla a fatuous bitch?”
Just imagine preteen R’shiel hero-worshipping her big brother, the actual undefeated champion of the training arena; sneaking out behind her mother’s back to watch him fight; squealing with delight every time he gives a big middle finger to authority.
”I said no, Georj!” snapped Tarja. “Cajoling R’Shiel isn’t going to change my mind either.”
Look if Georj, Tarja’s BFF, thinks the way to change Tarja’s mind is through R’Shiel by proxy, he probably has good reasons for thinking so. Like the fact that she is THE WAY TO TARJA’S HEART.
”No! I’m not afraid he’ll beat me. I’m afraid I’ll win, and then every half-witted, glory-seeking Cadet in the Citadel will want to take me on. I’ve done my time in the Arena, R’shiel. I’ve nothing to prove.”
So it ends up that Georg takes up the gauntlet that Tarja declines, and R’shiel is there to wish him luck before he enters the Arena. Actually she didn’t particularly want to go but her roommate bodily drags her along. Her roommate wants to be introduced to Tarja, you see. So does an entire clique of other girls they have somehow collected along the way. Because Tarja is a certified heartthrob.
Tarja looked up as she neared him, his smile of recognition fading to a frown as he looked at her. “Founders, R’shiel! You look awful.”
”It’s nice to see you too, Tarja.”
So Tarja ignores his flock of fawning admirers in favor of interrogating R’shiel about her health. Her roommate helpfully offers that R’shiel hasn’t been eating lately. Tarja is alarmed:
He took her arm and before she could protest steered her away from the other girls … Tarja spun her around to face him. “You don’t look awful, R’Shiel,” he said with concern, “You look like death. What’s wrong with you?”
”I don’t know, Tarja. I keep getting the worst headaches, and every time I smell meat I want to throw up.”
What Tarja doesn’t know is that R’shiel, at eighteen, alone among her peers has not gotten her period. Which is weird because (a) she’s not an Olympic figure skater on a starvation diet and (b) she has all the other outward signs of puberty. It’s always the first question that Joyhinia asks R’shiel during their weekly mother-daughter chats, “have your courses started yet.”
”Have you told Joyhinia?”
”She told me to see a physic,” R’shiel admitted.
”For once, I agree with her,” Tarja grumbled. “Why not go home, R’shiel? …” Then he smiled at her, and she understood why half the Probates in the Citadel wanted to be her best friend. “I’m sure Georj can redeem the honor of the captains without you cheering for him.”
R’shiel frowned. “He will beat Loclon, won’t he?”
”He’d better!”
”Can I see him before I go?”
”Of course,” Tarja said, taking her arm. “I’m sure if he’s planning to die tonight, the last thing he’d rather see is you, in preference to our ugly faces.”
Tarja and R’Shiel have been onscreen for about five minutes together and I count three instances of him taking her arm to draw her away and talk privately. But also, THAT SMILE. When he smiles at her R’shiel can totally see why all those other girls are ready to swoon when Tarja so much as glances in their direction. This is obviously a COMPLETELY NORMAL way to feel about your brother who is hands down your favorite person in the world. And then he basically tells her that he sees her as an object of desire, because how else are we supposed to interpret that comment about the last thing Georj wants to see before he dies? When men die in battle their last thoughts are of the woman they love, isn’t that the way it goes? R’shiel is crushing a little on Georj but that’s because he’s the closest thing she can get to Tarja. At this point they are interrupted by Georj’s opponent:
”Is this your sister, Captain Tenragan?”
Tarja did not appear too pleased that he had forced an introduction. “R’shiel, this is Lieutenant Loclan.”
”Lieutenant,” R’shiel said with barely a civil curtsy. Something about this handsome young man set her teeth on edge.
Tarja does not want that sonofabitch anywhere near his baby sister. And R’shiel doesn’t care how “handsome” Loclon is, she’s not interested (which would place her among the minority because we’re told Loclon is considered quite the catch). I could read about Tarja being overprotective all day. R’shiel changes her mind and decides to stay for the fight, which is a fucking BLOODBATH and Loclon that worm cuts Georj down and then Tarja goes running into the middle of the pit even though he’s not even one of Georj’s seconds. He scoops up the sword Georj dropped. This has got to be against the rules but nobody intervenes. Now we have a textbook case of battle-hardened veteran vs. fancy duelist. After Tarja makes mincemeat of Loclon, he contents himself with mutilating Loclon’s face and leaves him lying there in the sand screaming.
Another crippling cramp seized R’shiel, and she realized that it had nothing to do with seeing so much violence. So much blood. Something else was wrong … Another cramp, even worse than the last one, twisted her belly and she cried out. The sound must have cut through Tarja’s fury. He stopped and glanced back at her.
”I warned you to go home,” he told her.
R’shiel didn’t answer him. Couldn’t answer him. She held out her hand, as she felt a warm rush between her legs. She looked down and was surprised to find herself standing in a puddle of bright blood.
”Founders!” Tarja rushed toward her as she fell. He caught her and scooped her up into his arms. The last thing she remembered before falling into a swirl of blessed darkness was Tarja holding her. Running. Calling for help.
This passage is my favorite from the whole book. The fact that her cry of pain is the only thing that can pierce his haze of battle rage, and that he’s there for the very public, very painful onset of her menses to catch her when she faints — I mean he’s already covered in blood but he doesn’t give a shit that R’shiel’s going to bleed all over him before he gets her to a medic. When she wakes up it’s to a scolding from her mother, who says:
”I suppose I should be grateful it was Tarja who found you, although why he insisted on running through the Citadel, yelling like a fishwife, instead of dealing with the matter discreetly is beyond me.”
Because he panicked, that’s why. He was petrified that he might lose her; she is his everything. Tarja comes to her while she’s convalescing:
”Why does she hate you, Tarja?”
Tarja shrugged. “Who knows? For that matter, who cares?”
”I care.”
He took her hand in his. “I know you care, R’shiel. That’s because no matter how hard Joyhinia tries to mold you into another version of herself, there is part of you she can’t seem to corrupt. I hope she never succeeds.”
Like I said before, the depth of Tarja and R’Shiel’s bond owes much to the necessity of forming a united front against their bloodless reptile of a mother.
”Where do you get all this big brother nonsense from?” she demanded. “Every time you want to weasel out of explaining yourself, I get the same excuse.”
He smiled but refused to answer. “You take care of yourself, young lady. Big brother will be checking on you when he gets back.”
SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS
Tarja leaves for a tour of duty, in the course of which he discovers some pretty big honking skeletons in his mother’s closet, aka the fact that R’Shiel isn’t Joyhinia’s biological child. Joyhinia wanted a daughter for dynastic purposes and did what she had to do to acquire one of the right age; later she even torched an entire village to keep her secret. Tarja has the tale from one of the survivors:
”She called the child Rochelle, or something like that.”
”R’Shiel,” Tarja corrected softly, afraid that if he spoke too loudly, Bereth would not finish her tale.
He’s got a hostile witness on his hands and he knows he shouldn’t antagonize her but he can’t resist correcting her when she mangles his baby sister’s name. Sheesh Tarja, you just can’t help it can you? When it comes to R’Shiel your default setting is defend defend defend. This is him discussing his mother’s perfidy and his sister’s parentage with another soldier:
”I’ve seen your sister at the Citadel. She’s very pretty.”
”She is,” he agreed. “And apparently she’s not my sister.”
”At the risk of sounding trite, there’ll be a lot of officers at the Citadel quite pleased to learn that, sir.”
So we’ve established that R’Shiel is attractive and likable and if Tarja had been home the last few years he’d have been chasing off her admirers with sticks. This is literally how Tarja arranges a clandestine meeting with R’Shiel— he has another soldier ask her to dance, and pass the message along:
”Fear not, my designs on you are completely honorable.”
”Is that so?”
”Tarja wants to see you.”
”My brother is in the north.” She’d heard her shares of lines from dozens of Cadets and Officers, but nobody had ever tried using Tarja before.
WELL MAYBE THEY SHOULD HAVE, i’m sure she would have been off like a shot at the sound of his name. So the designated rendezvous with Tarja is …. the caverns under the amphitheater.
”You look a lot better than the last time we met,” he told her, taking her hand and leading her deeper into the caverns … In the distance, R’Shiel could hear the faint sounds of a couple giggling and urging each other to silence. They were not the only ones seeking privacy tonight.
Okay so Tarja and R’Shiel are meeting clandestinely on SRS BZNS but is it an accident they choose to do so in the same place that horny teenagers come to hook up??? I THINK NOT. This is when he breaks the news that Joyhinia’s not her biomom. At no point does either Tarja nor R’Shiel interpret this revelation as undermining their relationship, however—they are still each other’s family.
I need to zoom out slightly and explain you guys a few things about the larger geopolitical context. If you recall, the onset of R’Shiel’s womanly courses were accompanied by nausea, fainting, and a violent aversion to the smell of meat. This turns out to be because R’Shiel is the product of the union between a human and a demigod - who are all pacifists and vegetarians - which means she is the prophesied Demon Child, and she is finally coming into her power. At present nobody, least of all R’Shiel, has the faintest inkling of this; nobody except the priests of the monotheistic theocracy that borders Medalon to the north, whose holy mandate is to stamp out every other religion on the planet. A couple of priests with scary magical staffs are dispatched on a “diplomatic” mission to Medalon to neutralize R’Shiel. Their goals happen to coincide with Joyhinia’s, who sells R’Shiel to them like a sack of potatoes and in return secures their support to maneuver her own election as First Sister. This is a bridge too far for Tarja, who very publicly refuses to swear allegiance to his mother, renounces his officer’s commission, and storms out of the Citadel in a scene guaranteed to generate bad publicity for the new First Sister’s reign. At least he’s able to warn R’Shiel before she’s sold down the river. The two of them steal some horses and go on the lamb:
Her decision to run away appeared to be much easier than his. She was bound by no oaths, hampered by no thoughts of treason. But she was nursing a smoldering rage that manifested itself as stubbornness.
R’Shiel here has the exact same chaotic energy as Lucrezia Borgia in Season 1 of the Canal+ Borgias TV show, seething with long-suppressed “burn it all down” rage against the system. It’s a very destructive sort of teenage rage seeking a constructive outlet. There are quite a few shippy moments as soon as they go on the run:
For most of the winter they survived by R’Shiel’s wits or by Tarja’s hunting skills or by hiring themselves out for a few days at a time to farmers … She had surprised him at the first farm where they sought shelter, by introducing herself as his wife rather than his sister.
He had grown used to her sleeping next to him over the winter.
They act Fake Married to avoid detection!!! Ok so Tarja and R’Shiel accidentally start a bar brawl. It gets out of hand, soldiers kill civilians, and all of a sudden R’Shiel and Tarja have been recruited to lead The Resistance—which consists of a couple hundred unarmed, under-resourced pagans who resent the new administration’s crackdown on non-atheists. In effect, Tarja and R’Shiel are defending the smallfolk against tyrannical federal troops. Goes without saying that neither of them is a True Believer in the cause. Here is an outsider POV perspective:
When he first met them, Brak had thought Tarja and R’Shiel were close, but they fought more often than not these days. Tarja counseled caution, while R’Shiel advocated aggression.
R’Shiel is obviously out for blood. She’ll do anything to get back at Joyhinia—these pagan rebels are merely the instruments of her vengeance. Tarja, a professional soldier, is a little more circumspect:
”If I had a hundred years, I could not teach your heathen farmers how to fight like the Defenders.”