Mordant's Princesses

"Reflect" on Stephen Donaldson's other epic fantasy

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Which is your favorite princess?

Elega
0
No votes
Torrent
3
10%
Myste
26
90%
 
Total votes: 29

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Linna Heartbooger
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Post by Linna Heartbooger »

people! this is some great discussion I've been missing!
shadowbinding shoe wrote:Throughout the books I felt Elega's vision was too narrow. Joyce, Myste, most of the main actors are visionaries. (I include Eremis in this list though his is a dark and repulsive vision.) Elega on the other hand approaches things conventionally. While Myste is so caught up in her visions she almost loses touch with reality Elega is the exact opposite. And it shows. She was more tool than actor in the story.
This is a wonderful perspective.
I like how you say "Elega on the other hand approaches things conventionally" - that's a great perspective on what people call "having power."
Sometimes the ones who have the true power aren't thought of as having it because people are so caught up with their eyes on the ones who grasp for power via conventional means.
Cord Hurn wrote:Some support for this view is the fact that Myste grasps what her father is doing in driving both her and Elega away, getting them into positions of power, and Elega has to be told this by Myste. True, Myste doesn't understand this when she leaves Orison to seek the champion, but she's got it all figured out when she next meets Elega in Prince Kragen's tent.
In AMRT Chapter 34 was wrote:"It is hard to say that I trust his decline. But I have come to trust the fact that he allowed the Congery to work this translation. I have even come to think that he did it for me-in the same way that he insulted Prince Kragen for you. Do you not see how he has made us powerful? I can guide Darsint's choices. I can ask his help. And you are in a place to affect the actions of Alend's entire army."

I am sure that my daughter Elega has acted for the best reasons. For her sake, as well as for my own, I hope that the best reasons will also produce the best results.

"Elega, we are doing what he intended us to do. He has plans for us. Perhaps his decline itself is only a goad to make us do what we can."
Last summer I read an unusual book on leadership that I call (in my head) "the most in-your-face leadership book ever."
It has a lot of resonance with this view.
(also, it's a ...seemingly intentional... tactic of Joyse's that I love.)

Given that, I really want to re-read MN now, and see what things I find in it.
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Linna Heartlistener wrote:]Last summer I read an unusual book on leadership that I call (in my head) "the most in-your-face leadership book ever."
It has a lot of resonance with this view.
(also, it's a ...seemingly intentional... tactic of Joyse's that I love.)

Given that, I really want to re-read MN now, and see what things I find in it.
Truly, Linna, King Joyse is actually showing leadership, when he appears not to be, getting his daughters to put themselves into positions of power because he knows (by experience and also by Havelock's augury) that they are crucial to his plans of defense against the renegade Imagers.

There always seems to be more to find in the Mordant's Need story on every reading of it, so far! :read: 8O :mrgreen:
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In Chapter 34 of [i]A Man Rides Through[/i] was wrote:She kept track of the days; nearly kept track of the hours, gnawing them like a dry bone. It was late in the evening of the fifth day of Kragen's inactivity, the sixth day of the siege, while she waited in her tent for the Prince to finish discussing his day and his plans with Margonal, that a soldier from one of the sentry posts brought her a visitor.

"Forgive the intrusion, my lady." The soldier was a wary old veteran, and he appeared unsure that he was doing the right thing. "Wouldn't trouble you with her, but she wasn't trying to sneak into camp. Walked right up to the sentry and asked to see you. Isn't carrying any weapons--not even a knife. I said I would take her to the Prince. Or at least the sentry captain. She said she didn't think that was a good idea. Said if I brought her here, you could decide what to do with her."

Elega made an effort to be patient with all this explanation. "Who is she?"

The soldier shifted his weight uncomfortably. "Says she's your sister."

Elega blinked at him while the blood seemed to drain out of her heart.

Carefully, so that her voice wouldn't betray her, she replied, "You did well. You can leave her with me. I'll decide what to do with her when I hear what she has to say."

The soldier lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. Pushing the tentflap aside, he ushered Myste into Elega's presence.

The two sisters stood as if they were stunned and stared at each other. The soldier left them alone, closed the tentflap behind him; they stood and stared at each other.

Physically, Elega was in her element. She was wrapped in a gauzy robe the Prince liked. Lamps and candle light brought out the luster of her short, blonde hair, the beauty of her pale skin, the vividness of her violet eyes. In contrast, Myste needed sunshine to look her best. Indoors, by the light of fires, she tended to appear sullen or dreamy, and her gaze had a faraway quality that gave the impression she was immersed in her own thoughts--less interested in events around her than Elega was; therefore less important. Her thick cloak had seen hard use.

Yet Myste had changed--Elega saw that at once. Her carriage had become straighter; the set of her shoulders and the lift of her chin made her look like a woman who had lost her doubts. A scar that might have been a healed burn ran from her cheekbone to her ear on the right side; instead of marring her beauty, however, it had the effect of increasing her air of conviction. She had earned whatever certainty she felt. For the first time in their lives, Myste's simple presence caused Elega to feel smaller in some way, less sure of herself.

A quick intuition told her that Myste had done something that would make her own efforts to shape Mordant's fate appear trivial by comparison.

Myste met Elega's regard for a long moment. Then, slowly, she began to smile.

It was too much, that smile; it was the way their father used to smile, back in the days when he was still himself; a smile like a sunrise. She couldn't bear it: her eyes filled with tears.

"Oh, Myste," she breathed. "You scared me to death, disappearing like that. I thought you were dead long ago."

Helplessly, she opened her arms and caught her sister in a tight hug.

"I am sorry," Myste whispered while they clung to each other. "I know you were scared. I had no wish to do it that way. I had no other choice."

Awkwardly, Elega stepped back, wiped her eyes, found a handkerchief and blew her nose. "You rotten child," she said, smiling gamely.

Myste smiled back and borrowed the handkerchief when Elega was done with it.

"Do you remember?" Elega murmured. "I used to call you that. When we were little. When I did something forbidden and got into trouble, I used to try and convince Mother you tricked me into--whatever it was. I told her you were a rotten child."

Lightly, Myste laughed. "No, I do not remember. I was too young. Anyway, I can hardly believe you ever tried to pass responsibility off on anyone else." She sighed as if the sight of her sister gave her great pleasure. "And now after all these years I have proved that you were right."

"Yes, you have," Elega wanted to joke, and laugh, and yell at Myste all at the same time. "Completely despicable." She tried to pull some organization into her head, keep her thoughts from spinning out of control. "Sit down. Have some wine." She pointed toward a pair of canvas camp chairs. "I really am delighted to see you. I have been so alone--" But she couldn't do it; Myste's unexpected appearance made her brain reel. "Oh, Myste, where have you been?"

A hint of self-consciousness touched Myste's gaze. No, Elega realized almost at once, it was more than self-consciousness. It was caution. Slowly, Myste's smile faded.

"That is a long story," she replied quietly. "I have come to you because I must make a number of decisions. Among them is whether I should tell you where I have been and what I have been doing."

More than self-consciousness. More than caution.

Distrust.

Elega felt like crying again.

At the same time, however, her own instinct for caution sprang awake. The Alend camp was a dangerous place in more ways than one; it was especially dangerous for a daughter of King Joyse who hadn't demonstrated her loyalty to Prince Kragen.

"What is the difficulty?" she asked carefully. "I am your sister. Why should you not tell me?"

Whose side are you on?

"Thank you." Myste's manner was firm, unflawed. "I will have wine. As you see"--she dropped her cloak, revealing a battered leather jacket and pants which apparently had nothing in the world to do with lovers and bedchambers--"amenities have been few in my life for some time."

But Elega couldn't respond. She was too busy fighting down an impulse to demand, Whose side are you on?

"Elega," sighed Myste, "I cannot tell you my story because I do not know why you are here. I do not know how an Alend army came to besiege Orison. I do not know"--for an instant, she blinked back tears of her own--"if our father still lives, or still holds his throne. Or still seems mad.

"I can decide nothing wisely without the answers to such questions.

"I knew you were here," she explained. "I saw you ride with Prince Kragen to meet Castellan Lebbick on the day Orison was invested. The distance was considerable," she admitted, "But I was sure I saw you. It has taken me this long, however, to persuade"--she faltered oddly--"persuade myself to approach you."
Yet Myste had changed--Elega saw that at once. Her carriage had become straighter; the set of her shoulders and the lift of her chin made her look like a woman who had lost her doubts. A scar that might have been a healed burn ran from her cheekbone to her ear on the right side; instead of marring her beauty, however, it had the effect of increasing her air of conviction. She had earned whatever certainty she felt. Myste, like Terisa before her, will insist that Elega trust her first before she trusts Elega. And Myste's certainty is strong enough, is palpable enough, that this time Elega will comply.
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Obviously trying to defuse Elega's tension, she asked pleadingly, "May I have some wine?"

"Of course. Surely." Jerking herself out of her paralysis, Elega went to the brass table. It held a jug and two goblets. Despite the possibility that she might eventually have to explain to the Prince how his goblet came to be used in his absence, she poured wine for herself and Myste, then sat down and urged Myste to do the same.

Myste accepted the chair and the wine. Over the goblet's rim as she drank, another sun dawned in her eyes. When she lowered the goblet, she grinned longingly past Elega's shoulder. "That is good. I wish I could take a hogshead of it with me."

A few swallows of wine helped restore Elega's composure. With a better grasp on herself, she asked, "Why do you speak of going? You have only just arrived. And"--she attempted her best smile--"you have not yet said anything I can understand about why you came in the first place."

Myste drank again, then held the goblet in both palms and gazed into its depths. "I came to ask the answers to questions, so that I can make my decisions with some hope that they will lead to good rather than ill."

"In other words"--Elega kept her voice steady--"you wish me to trust you enough to help you decide whether you can trust me." Her question refused to be stifled. "Myste, who has your allegiance now? Whom do you serve?"

Myste's eyes darkened. All at once, the distance in them seemed poignant to Elega. Myste was the youngest of the King's daughters, and in some ways the least respected; alone in her romantic dreams, her strange notion that there were no real limits to the lives of ordinary men and women. Only her father had ever listened to her with anything except kind contempt or outright mockery--and now his kingdom was in ruins, and the fault for it was his alone.

Yet here she was, clad more completely in her own courage than in the worn leather on her body. It was quite possible that she was out of her mind. How else to explain the fact that she was here, that she considered it reasonable to simply walk into the Alend camp and ask for answers? Even if she were sane, she had become something Elega didn't know how to evaluate or touch.

On the other hand, what harm could she do, one brave, foolish daughter of a failed King? Was it conceivable that she had somehow gone over to Cadwal? No. The High King's army was too far away--and the Perdon's forces still intervened. Then what harm could she do?

Why, none.

She made no attempt to answer Elega's question. After a long moment, Elega let it drop. Feeling an unexpected sympathy--and a hint of nameless admiration--toward her lonely sister, she decided suddenly, irrationally, to gamble. "Very well," she said. After all, risks came to her more naturally than caution. Prince Kragen's inaction had her at her wit's end. "Ask me something specific."

Her words lit a spark in Myste's gaze.

Myste raised an unself-conscious hand to her cheek. "Again, thank you," she murmured. "It will be a great service to me."

Almost at once, she inquired, "Is Father well? Is he"--she swallowed quickly--"still alive?"

"To the best of my knowledge." As soon as she heard the question, Elega's throat went dry. "It has been some days since I spoke to him." Now that she had decided to gamble, she realized that her own story would be hard to tell. Myste's fundamental assumptions were so different. "Nevertheless emissaries and messengers such as the Castellan and Master Quillon make reference to him without hesitation. He remains King in his own castle, even though his rule over Mordant has collapsed."

Myste let a breath of relief between her lips. "I am glad," she said, nodding to herself.

"And Terisa? How is she?"

Elega muffled her discomfort with asperity. "I fear that the lady Terisa has fallen victim to Geraden's instinct for mishap."

"How so?" Myste's tone conveyed a suggestion of alarm.

Remembering the reservoir, Elega drawled, "She has learned to make the same mistakes he does."

Again, Myste nodded; she clearly didn't understand what Elega meant--and didn't want to pursue it. She thought for a moment, then asked slowly as if she wanted better words, "Elega, why are you here? If our father still rules in Orison, how have you come to take the part of his enemies?"

There it was: the place where all their common ground fell away, the point on which they would never comprehend each other. If the truth hit Myste too hard, Elega might be forced to summon guards and have her sister delivered to Prince Kragen.
Elega covers her discomfort with asperity. On the other hand, it is hard to picture Myste covering up her real feelings in any way, except by not speaking. Myste has no subterfuge in her, anymore than does a character as completely different as Lebbick. Silence is her only defense in such a situation, when she doesn't know what Elega has been planning and doing. After all, Elega has been all about subterfuge in nearly every move that she has made.
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Nevertheless she was faithful to the risk she'd chosen. Dryly, she replied, "That is the wrong question, Myste. You should ask why the Prince and his forces are here. My reasons hinge on theirs."

Myste studied her intently. "I suspected as much. That is why I feared for Father. I thought the Alends might have come because he was dead. But I have no wish to offend you by leaping to erroneous conclusions.

"When I left Orison, Prince Kragen had been insulted in the hall of audiences. Yet the fact that he remained made me think that he had not given up for peace.

"Why is he here, attempting to pull the King from his Seat?"

"Because," Elega answered, bracing herself for Myste's reaction, "I persuaded him to do it."

In a sense, Myste didn't react at all; she simply went still, like an animal in hiding. The change was so unlike her, however, that it seemed as vehement as a shout. Where had she learned so much self-possession--and so much caution?

"I made his acquaintance after his audience with the King." Elega struggled to keep a defensive tone out of her voice. "He taught me to believe him when he said that Margonal's desire for peace was sincere. Yet Alend faced a dilemma he must resolve. Cadwal has no desire for peace--and the King's strength had become plainly inadequate to keep the Congery out of Festten's hands. Alend must take some action, so that the High King would not gain all Imagery for himself.

"First I required of the Prince some indication of his good faith. He replied with the promise that if Orison fell to him he would make the Perdon King of Mordant--that Alend would keep nothing for itself if the Congery was made safe from Cadwal.

"Then I persuaded him that a siege was his best hope."

"But, Elega," Myste protested, "that is untrue. Father is the only man who has ever taken Orison by storm. A siege may well last for seasons. And High King Festten surely will not allow seasons to pass before he comes to prevent the Alend Monarch from claiming the Congery."

"It is true," insisted Elega. Honesty, however, forced her to admit, "Or it was. Two things made it so. First, the curtain-wall is fragile at best--and no one could have foreseen that one of the Masters would conceive a way to defend it.

"And second--"

Involuntarily, she wavered. This lay at the heart of her ache for action, her desire to see the siege succeed. It was her doing: she had convinced Kragen to attempt it.

If he held her to blame for her failure, he gave no sign of it. Perhaps he had accepted the hazards of what he did, and felt no recrimination. Or perhaps he found a new hope in the reasons for his present inaction. In either case, she blamed herself enough for both of them. Sure of herself, determined to save her world, she had taken Mordant's fate in her own hands.

And she had dropped it.

"Second?" Myste prompted.

"Second," said Elega, more harshly than she intended, "I promised to deliver Orison to him with little or no bloodshed."

Myste sat completely still; not a muscle in her face shifted. Yet her eyes seemed to burn with outrage.

"How?"

Elega's knuckles tightened on her goblet. "By poisoning the reservoir. Not fatally, But enough to indispose the defense until the castle could be taken."

Without a flicker of expression, almost without moving her mouth, Myste said, "That should have sufficed. What went wrong?"

Deliberately, Elega permitted herself an obscenity which she knew Myste particularly disliked. Then she said, "Geraden and Terisa caught me. They were unable to stop me--or indeed capture me. But they warned the Castellan. No one was indisposed because no one drank the water. The defense holds--and I was forced to flee."

Unable to contain her self-disgust, she concluded, "Does that answer your questions? Can you make your decisions wisely now?"

Gradually, Myste leet herself move. Her gaze left Elega's face; she lifted her goblet and drained it. Automatically, far away in her thoughts, she poured more wine and drank again.

"Ah, Elega. How terrible that must be for you--to attempt the betrayal of your own home and family, and to fail."

"It is worse," retorted Elega fiercely, "to do nothing--to let every good thing in the world go to ruin because the man who created it cannot be bothered to defend it."

Still slowly, still peering into the distance, Myste nodded. "Perhaps. That is one of the decisions I must make.

"Please tell me. Why does the Prince 'do nothing'? Since the first day of the siege, he has taken no action I can see. To all appearances, he is simply waiting for High King Festten to come and destroy him."

Abruptly, as if a stunned part of her mind had just been kicked, Elega realized that Prince Kragen was overdue. Usually, he finished discussing the day with his father and came to her tent before this.

If he caught Myste here, he would have no real choice but to make her a prisoner. Her potential value as King Joyse's daughter was too great to be ignored. But Myste was also Elega's sister--and Elega wasn't sure yet what her own decision would be. The only thing she was sure of was that Myste wouldn't reveal any of her secrets as Prince Kragen's prisoner.

Muttering, "Wait here," Elega jumped up and hurried past the curtains into the back of the tent.

There she roused the Alend girl who served as her maid. "Hurry, child," she hissed. "Find the Prince. He may still be with his father, or on his way here. Beg him to forgive me. Tell him I feel unwell. Tell him I am half blind with headache--but it will pass if I am allowed to sleep.

"Go quickly."

She hustled the girl out into the night, paused to quiet the hammering of her heart, than returned to Myste.

Myste looked at her inquiringly. Elega explained what she had done--and was more relieved than she considered reasonable when she saw that Myste believed her. So Myste's new caution, her distrust, had its limits. Despite the things Elega had already done, Myste didn't expect her sister to betray her.

In the back of her mind, Elega began to wonder whose side she herself was on.
Myste sat completely still; not a muscle in her face shifted. Yet her eyes seemed to burn with outrage. In a way, this reaction of Myste is not surprising, given that she had worked to maintain a high opinion of her father, even though her father's treatment of Prince Kragen is a reason for her seeking the champion. And yet, in a way, this IS surprising, for we've never seen Myste with such barely-suppressed anger before.

In the back of her mind, Elega began to wonder whose side she herself was on. It's ironic that by deceiving the Prince here, Elega is actually serving him, by maintaining a situation with Myste that is likely to get more information out of Myste--which Elega can than pass on to the Prince.
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Post by IrrationalSanity »

The tent is one of my favorite scenes between the sisters, as they reveal to each other how they have grown as a result of their actions. Granted, at this point, Myste more so than Elega - Elega still has one more lesson in humility to come, while Myste's certainty of purpose has fully crystalized.
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Post by Cord Hurn »

Yes, IS, Myste is pretty much complete in her journey of growth, in general and also compared to Elega. I think this chapter, "Frustrated States", is a great one for showing their character developments, and I hope to quote more from it in this thread before too long. Thanks for reading along! :thumbsup: :)
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So, Elega informs Myste that the Perdon has been continuing to fight Festten's army and sending his wounded to Orison--and that Prince Kragen has been intercepting the Perdon's wounded and has found out from them that the Cadwal army is moving towards the Care of Tor, not towards Orison.
"Does that answer your questions?"

While Elega spoke, Myste's expression changed. Her gaze turned toward Orison; her eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Father," she murmured quickly. "How have you been brought to this? How do you bear it?"

Elega's urge to scream intensified. "If it does," she snapped, "perhaps you will consent to answer mine. I have told you enough to get myself beheaded if I were not in the Prince's favor. I would like some return for my risk."

"Yes." Suddenly, Myste rose to her feet, facing through the wall of the tent towards Orison as though Elega weren't present. "I can make my decisions now. Thank you."

"I must go."

Without a glance at her sister, she started toward the tentflap.

For an instant, Elega was stuck, caught between contradictory reactions. She was full of outrage; she wanted to make scathing demands which would rip Myste's reticence aside. At the same time, she thought that her sister was about to leave her--without trusting her, without trusting her--went into her heart like a spike.
I don't blame Myste. I wouldn't be able to easily trust Elega either, at this point.
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She was about to shout for a soldier when a new thought flashed through her, a bolt of illumination.

Before her sister reached the tentflap, she said, "Father sent me a message, Myste."

Myste stopped immediately; she turned, came back toward Elega. As if involuntarily, she asked, "What was it?"

Too absorbed in Myste's importance to be self-conscious, Elega answered, "Castellan Lebbick brought it. According to him, Father said, 'I am sure that my daughter Elega has acted for the best reasons. She carries my pride with her wherever she goes. For her sake, as well as for my own, I hope that the best reasons will also produce the best results.'"

Unexpectedly, Myste closed her eyes. Tears spread under her lashes and down her cheeks, but for a long moment she didn't move or speak. Then she looked radiantly at her sister, smiling like a new day.

"Of course," she breathed. "Why did I not see it for myself?"

At once, she returned to her chair. Smiling so beautifully that she wrung Elega's heart, she said, "Very well. Ask me something specific."

Elega gaped at her--gaped like a fish until Myste started laughing.

Elega couldn't help herself; she was suddenly so full of joy and relief and confusion that she laughed herself.

After a while, Myste subsided. "Ah, Elega, we have not done that together since we were girls."

Mocking her own dignity, Elega replied primly, "Do not be arrogant, child. You are hardly old enough yet to be called a woman."

Myste chuckled happily. For a moment, the only thing that prevented her from looking like the Myste Elega remembered--romantic and dear, vaguely foolish, not to be taken seriously--was the scar on her cheek.

But that scar changed everything. It made the new Myste impossible to ignore or forget. She inspired a rush of confusion in Elega.

"Myste, where were you? Where did you go? And those clothes. What have you been doing all this time?"

"Elega," Myste protested humorously, "I said, 'Ask me something specific.'" But then she sighed, and slowly the laughter faded from her face. "Well, I will tell you." Her expression became one Elega didn't know how to interpret: sober and contemplative; a little sad; a little excited. "If you do not take it well, however, there will be trouble for us all."

"I left Orison to search for the Congery's champion."

Elega was so surprised that she cried, "You did what?" before she could catch herself.

The Myste Elega used to know would have flinched or blushed; she might have hung her head or sounded defensive. The new Myste did none of these things. She only raised her head slightly, squared her jaw a bit, and repeated, "I left Orison to search for the Congery's champion."

A moment later, she added, "Terisa helped me."

Take it well. Elega didn't want to make a fool of herself, so she stared at her sister and said nothing.

"I went from her rooms through the secret passages down to the breach he made in the wall. It was not very well guarded then, so I was able to escape without being seen. From there, I followed his trail in the snow."

Elega stared, waiting for Myste to say or do something that made sense.

"Eventually, " Myste continued, "I caught up with him. He was hurt, not able to move quickly. In fact, he was down in the snow, bleeding his life into his armor.

"I startled him--he thought he was being attacked again." Myste's tone remained mild and firm. "He fired at me." She touched her cheek. "Fortunately, he did little harm. Then he saw that I was a woman, and dropped his weapon. I was able to approach him."

Elega forced herself to blink her eyes, clear her throat, shake some of the astonishment out of her head. Carefully, she said, "Go back to the beginning. Tell me why."

"Why?" Myste's gaze drifted into the distance. "Why not? There were so many reasons. There was Father's strange decline, his impulse to destruction--and our helplessness, which I enjoyed no more than you did. There was Terisa, who faced a world she did not know or understand with more courage and resourcefulness than I could find in myself. And there was the dishonesty of the Congery's action."

"'Dishonesty'?" objected Elega. "The Masters were trying to defend Mordant. The translation of their champion was the only action they could have taken that might have aided us."

"No." Myste was certain. "I will not speak of the ethical question--whether it is ever permissible to impose an involuntary translation on any living thing. But the Masters were not honest with themselves. They claim that they translated their champion in response to Mordant's need, trying to find the hope of their auguries--but how did they expect him to react to what they did? He was injured--he and all his men were embattled for their lives--and suddenly he found himself in another world." Her voice took on a note of passion. "What could he think? Surely he could think nothing except that this change was yet another attack by his enemies.

"If the Masters had been honest, they would have admitted that the only way such a champion could ever become an ally of theirs was if they approached him peacefully, unthreateningly, rather than playing upon his instinct for violence."

In some ways, Elega found Myste's argument as surprising as her previous revelations. What she said seemed perfectly clear, eminently logical. Elega wasn't accustomed to hearing her sister reason in such terms.
I love Myste for the soft outpouring of emotion she shows as she absorbs new clarity from hearing her father's message to Elega. And I 've always found it entertaining to read of Elega's surprise at her sister's determination and clarity. I don't mean to be really harsh when speaking about Elega, for clearly she is not one of the story's villains. But Elega has always sounded so certain of herself, particularly with regards to her judgments about Myste, that it is enjoyable to see her preconceptions about her sister totally shaken up, especially since we as the readers have long known Myste better than Elega has. And Myste's display of sharp and solid logic has--dare I say it?--made me proud of her! For real. Passages such as this are a reason why I like Mordant's Need as much as I do, because of the solid emotional investment I can find myself having with the wonderfully-written characters.
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"I never thought of it that way," she admitted. Then she said almost accusingly, "But you did. And you decided to do something about it."

Myste shrugged as if to dismiss the suggestion that she had shown bravery or initiative. "The Fayle attempted to warn Father of the Masters' intention. When Father permitted that translation to take place, I realized that if I remained where I was and did nothing I would begin to hate him. And when I conceived the idea of trying to help the champion, my heart lifted."

Speaking dryly to control herself, Elega said, "So you put on your warm clothes and went out into the hard winter for the sake of a warrior who might kill you as soon as he saw you. For no reason, really, except that you felt sorry for him."

A small smile touched Myste's lips.
Odd that the same situation that when described by Myste sounds so rational, ends up sounding so irrational when Elega sums it up! :lol:
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"And you found him and helped him. How was that possible? Was he a man inside his armor?"

"Oh, yes. Different in little ways--but very much like us. Like us in everything that matters."

To Elega's renewed amazement, Myste blushed. Myste hurried on promptly, however.

"Like Terisa, he speaks our language--perhaps because of the translation. His name is Darsint," she commented by the way. "His instructions enable me to get him from his armor and tend his wound. His weapon made a fire for us easily, and I had food.

"Since then, we have been together, hiding when we can, fleeing when we must. Shelter and even food have been simple to find in abandoned villages and farms--"

"And since the army's arrival," Elega interrupted, speaking in a rush to catch up with the implications of what her sister revealed, "you have been watching us. Together--you and the Congery's champion. You said it took you several days to persuade yourself to come to me. It was not you you had to persuade, it was him. You are his knowledge, his guide."

Inspired by the fire of ideas in her head, she paused to say, "His lover." The mind which aims the weapon. Then she sped on.

"That is the decision you have had to make. You are companion to the mightiest man in any of the kingdoms. He loves you--he is dependent on you. And you must decide how to use his power."

Now it was Myste's turn to stare. Unable to contain her sudden, urgent hope, Elega swept out of her chair to confront her sister. "Myste, you must help us.

"All that force, all that strength, only waiting to be used. Oh, my sister, why have you delayed? You can bring this siege to an end almost without effort. Do you not understand what must be done? We must take Orison. We must put an end to the King's foolish resistance, so that the battle against Mordant's true enemies can begin while the realm and the Congery remain intact."

"No, Elega." Myste came to her own feet swiftly, met Elega's passion face to face. "It is you who do not understand." The scar made her look fiery and unanswerable. "The question I have sought to resolve is not whether I should help you, but whether I should help Orison against you.

"The Alend forces are too large for even a man with Darsint's weapons to combat alone. Also his strength goes from him with every use. The word he uses is 'recharged.' His weapons cannot be 'recharged' in this world. For that reason, we must be cautious. Nevertheless I have been thinking long and hard about the damage he could do to the Alend Monarch's army. The truth is that I have only held back because of your presence--and because of Prince Kragen's inaction."

Elega started to protest, but Myste cut her off.

"I must warn you, Elega. I am more certain now that ever that I must fight for Father and Mordant. If you require Darsint's guns to be used, they will be used against you."
I think that's the best surprise moment of the chapter! 8O
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"Myste," Elega gasped in dismay, "are you mad?"

"Only if it is madness to trust our father."

"Yes, that is madness! You said so yourself--you spoke of his 'strange decline, his impulse to destruction.' Were you not listening to yourself? You would not have left Orison and gone to help this Darsint if you trusted our father."

"Yes." Without warning, Myste's intensity broke into a grin. She seemed at once sheepish and secure. "And no. I have spent days laboring through high snow. I have tended the wounds of an alien warrior and held him in my arms. And I have heard Father's message to you. Fear and exhaustion teach many things. So does love. I have learned to think differently.

"It is hard to say that I trust his decline. But I have come to trust the fact that he allowed the Congery to work this translation. I have even come to think that he did it for me--in the same way that he insulted Prince Kragen for you. Do you not see how he has made us powerful? I can guide Darsint's choices. I can ask his help. And you are in a place to affect the actions of Alend's entire army."

I am sure that my daughter Elega has acted for the best reasons. For her sake, as well as for my own, I hope that the best reasons will also produce the best results.

"Elega, we are doing what he intended us to do. He has plans for us. Perhaps his decline itself is only a goad to make us do what we can."

Elega floundered in her sister's smile. This optimistic interpretation of the King's behavior was insane. "Myste, you are a fool," she muttered as if she were speaking to herself. "A fool." King Joyse had driven his own wife away rather than make the effort to defend his kingdom. Or to explain himself. Piece by piece, he had chipped the hope and trust out of Elega's heart. "Are you not hurt? Do the things he has done not caused you any pain?"

"Of course they do." Myste's smile became fond and sad at the same time. "I only say that there is another way to look at what he has done. We ask ourselves whether he deserves our faith. But we do not have his burdens. He is the King. We should ask, I think, whether we deserve his faith.

"It appears to me that he has tried to let us know that he trusts us

"Elega, do you never ask yourself what kind of man he must be, to place his trust in the people he has most hurt? Between us, we have the might to destroy him. Darsint's weapons and the Prince's army could accomplish that. And our father has pushed us into this position.

"Either his lunacy is complete, or his need for us is so desperate that he cannot explain what he wants without making what he wants impossible."

Groping, Elega asked, "What do you mean? What can you possibly mean?"

Myste shrugged. "Oh, I mean nothing. I only speculate. But suppose"--her gaze came into focus on her sister--"it is in some way vital to Father's defense of Mordant that you are trusted by the Prince. How can a trust like that be achieved between two such old and mortal enemies? Any attempt to trick or mislead the Prince would almost surely fail. You are--pardon me for saying this--not much of a liar. You could not persuade the Prince to believe anything you did not believe yourself."

"No." Elega shook her head, not in denial, but in exasperation. "You suppose too much too quickly. How can it possibly be 'vital' to Father that Prince Kragen trusts me?"

"Elega, think. You have already come so close to your own answer.What did Father accomplish by refusing to reinforce the Perdon, when the Perdon came to Orison and demanded help.

"What did he accomplish?"

"Or put it another way. What would have happened when Cadwal marched if the Perdon had been supported by several thousand guards? As you have observed, the Perdon would have retreated here, to preserve his forces and defend his King. And High King Festten could not have permitted an enemy that strong to disengage, to maneuver freely. He would have been forced to follow.

"By refusing to reinforce the Perdon, Father made it possible that the Cadwals would not come here directly.

"Do you still not understand, Elega?"

"Time," Elega breathed. At last, she seemed to be catching up. "Since Cadwal is not here, Alend can afford to wait. By refusing to support the Perdon, he gained time."

"Yes!" Myste whispered.

"And by pushing us where we are, he also gained time. He made it possible that I might use my influence with the Prince to encourage inaction. But primarily"--Elega was amazed by how convincing she found this--" he persuaded us to be where we are so that if the Prince attacked fiercely you would defend Orison--and so the Alend attack would be frustrated--and because you and I are sisters we might find a way to keep the violence between our forces to a minimum."

"Yes, repeated Myste. Her manner began to relax.

"But why?" Elega didn't know whether to laugh or shriek. "Why does he need time? What is he doing? What is his plan? How can he believe that Mordant will be saved by the things he has done to destroy it?"

Apparently, Myste felt no need to shriek. Chuckling softly, she said, "If I knew that--if I could so much as make an intelligent guess--I would tell it to Prince Kragen myself."

Unexpectedly, Elega also began chuckling. "So this is all talk? You can think of no reason why Father might need time--therefor no reason to believe he actually does need time--therefore no reason to trust any of your speculations?"

Myste shook her head cheerfully. "None."

"Except," Elega murmured after a moment, "for the fact that it all seems too tidy to be accidental."

Myste's smile was so complete that it made even the burn on her cheek look like a mark of beauty.
Once again, it comes across to the reader that Myste is actually a deep thinker, very analytical in looking at possible explanations of her father's behavior. I like the description of her eyes coming tightly into focus when discussing the logic of Joyse's actions to Elega.
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Elega sighed. Slowly, her inexplicable humor faded. "I must say, Myste," she commented, "that I have a powerful wish to make you tell all this to Prince Kragen anyway. Unfortunately, he would take you prisoner. He would want to use you as a lever against Father--or against your champion."

"In that case," Myste replied, "Darsint would come for me. I doubt that he would be inclined to let me be used as a lever."

"And Alends would be killed," added Elega. "And the force in his weapons might be exhausted. And nothing would be gained."

"That"--Myste grinned sharply, like a woman who had learned to enjoy risks--"is the reasoning I used to persuade him to let me come to you."

As a final surprise in an evening full of surprises, Elega found that she had never liked her sister as much as she did at this moment. "In that case," she drawled, "it behooves me, I think, to help you leave the camp before any word of your visit reaches Prince Kragen. Come, get your cloak. We will take a few skins of this wine with us and go out the back."

Before they left, she and Myste shared a hug as if they had recognized each other for the first time.
As a final surprise in an evening full of surprises, Elega found that she had never liked her sister as much as she did at this moment. And I've never liked Elega as much as I did at this moment. For once, she's not clinging stubbornly to her old judgments.
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The next morning, after he had received the night's reports from his captains, Prince Kragen called Elega out of her tent.

She had never seen him so angry. Even his moustache seemed to have been waxed with outrage.

"My lady," he said, "last night a woman entered the camp. She claimed to be your sister. She was taken to your tent."

Elega faced him boldly, hiding the fright in her heart. "Yes, my lord Prince. My sister Myste."

"The one who disappeared after the Imagers translated their champion." That may have been all he knew about her. "Where is she now?"

Remembering that she was a bad liar, Elega held his gaze and replied, "We talked for a long time. Then I helped her to depart, without bothering the sentries."

"King Joyse's daughter. One of the most valuable women in Mordant. You 'helped her to depart.'" The Prince's tone made every soldier within earshot avert his head. "Why?"

Elega did her best to smile as Myste had smiled, as if she enjoyed risks. "Come into my tent, my lord Prince. I have a story to tell you that will make you doubt your reason."

That was shy she loved him. Despite the fact that she was the daughter of his enemy--that she had betrayed her own father and might therefore be capable of betraying anyone--that she had helped another of the King's daughters escape--Prince Kragen went into her tent and heard her story.

Remembering that she was a bad liar...it was very wise of Elega to choose to play it straight with the Prince. He'd never have trusted her again, and she would have become a prisoner, if she had tried to prevaricate or exaggerate at this moment in the story.
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The next scene with Elega is when Terisa and Geraden arrive at the Alend siege of Orison, in hopes they will be allowed to pass through to talk to King Joyse.
In Chapter 38 of [i]A Man Rides Through[/i] was wrote:Elega stood between the flaps of one of the tents. A streak of sunset caught her face, so that her usual paleness was covered with an orange-gold blush, and light muffled the vividness of her eyes. In that way, she looked like she had become an entirely different woman since Terisa had last seen her.

"So it is true, my lady Terisa," she said clearly, lifting up her voice as though this were a formal occasion. "It was always true. You are an Imager."

Prince Kragen's mouth moved under his moustache, swearing. When he spoke, however, he kept his tone neutral. "How do you reach that conclusion, my lady Elega?"

Elega's gaze didn't shift from Terisa; she studied Terisa through the failing beams of the sun. "As you said, my lord Prince, they are not in Orison. It is doubtful that they were able to creep out through your siege. Therefore they must have removed themselves by Imagery."

"Or someone else removed us," Geraden put in acerbically. "Don't forget that possibility. You don't think Gart does his own translations, do you?"

An unexpected silence fell over the tents. Elega half raised a hand to her mouth, then dropped it. A glint of white teeth showed between Prince Kragen's lips. From somewhere in the distance, Terisa heard a methodical booming, a deep thud at once so hard and so far away that it seemed to come through the ground rather than the air. Men shouted faintly. Her presence there, and Geraden's, must have come as a complete surprise to Elega and the Prince. Now the idea Geraden suggested appeared to shock them further, as if it made the whole situation incomprehensible.
Being astonished is becoming a familiar state of mind for Elega by this point of the story.
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The drama of this encounter is increased by the suspicion that has developed between Elega and the Prince, and it makes the scene all the more interesting for me.
"Who will speak first?" asked Elega in a carefully neutral tone.

"You will." Terisa didn't hesitate. "You can do anything you want to us anytime you want. What have you got to lose?"

She sat down.

Geraden kept his reaction hidden. The lady Elega looked at Prince Kragen.

The Prince thought for a while; he didn't appear to be aware that he was chewing his moustache. Two of his fingertips tapped soundlessly against each other, measuring the menace in the fore-tent. Then he said with steady nonchalance, "I think not.

"My lady Elega," he continued before Terisa was sure that she had heard him right, "you have not heard the details of our guests' arrival. You will be interested, I am sure.

"Geraden and the lady Terisa made no attempt at stealth. They confronted one of my patrols"--he paused ominously--"but they did not request an audience with me. They did not request permission to approach Orison. No, my lady, they demanded the right to speak with you."

Involuntarily, Elega caught her breath.

While she stared at Geraden and Terisa, Prince Kragen added, "It is clear that whatever device or policy they have prepared to get them into Orison is directed at you. They believe that they have the means to persuade you." Again, he paused; then he remarked cryptically, "It is even conceivable that they are aware of the existence of a precedent."

In response, Elega's eyes widened with pain and anger. "That is unfair, my lord." Almost instantly, however, she seemed to catch the implications of what he said. In a rush, she asked, "Geraden, have you seen--?"

So suddenly, so loudly that the sound made Terisa's heart lurch, Prince Kragen slapped his hands together, interrupting Elega; stopping her.

"My lady," he articulated, "I have said that I do not wish to trade stories with them. When they have told us what they know, I will decide what they may hear."

Elega held her tongue; yet her face showed the difficulty of restraint. Abruptly, Terisa became aware that she wanted to hear Elega's story: the Elega she remembered wouldn't have suffered a command to shut up so compliantly. What had happened to change the lady, to make her acquiescent? What kind of contest was going on between her and the Prince? Was it just a question of blame because her attack on the reservoir had failed? Or had she done something else to earn Kragen's distrust?

Because her heart was still racing and she wanted to be calm, Terisa went to get some more wine.
What I like quite a bit about this Donaldson fantasy, is the level of complexity in the different ways the characters relate to each other, react to each other, anticipate how each other will behave or think. It gives the whole fantastic story more of a "real world" feel, and makes the characters seem more real. Mordant's Need and the Gap are both like this, though they are otherwise quite different stories.
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In Chapter 38 of [i]A Man Rides Through[/i] was wrote:"You serve a heady wine, my lord Prince," Geraden murmured softly. "I haven't tasted anything like it for a long time."

In Terisa's opinion, that was an odd thing to say at a time like this.

Apparently, Prince Kragen agreed with her. He ignored Geraden's comment. Still speaking to Elega as if she were the true subject of his scrutiny, he said, "In any case, my lady, I have not yet told you everything you must hear. When Geraden and the lady Terisa demanded to speak to you, they gave a most interesting explanation. They said that they had messages for you from Queen Madin, your mother."

At once, Elega was on her feet. "The Queen?" She didn't appear to realize that she was standing. "You have spoken with the Queen? She sent messages for me?" Her eyes shone with excitement and anguish; her voice held a visceral tremor. Doubtless you told her of my part in the siege. What does my mother wish to say to me now?"

Terisa was bemused to find that she had slipped down in her chair. The wine seemed to make her top-heavy.

Pushing herself upright, she said, "We can tell you who the traitors are inside Orison. Who the renegade Imagers are. We can tell you how they planned all this Cadwal. Together, we might be able to guess what kind of trap they plan to spring."

Prince Kragen's gaze burned darkly at her. For no particular reason, she added, "If you want to trade, we can even tell you what Domne and Termigan and Fayle are going to do about it."

As far as she could tell, Geraden and Elega and Kragen were all speaking at once. Geraden asked, "Do you know what you're doing? You look like you've had too much wine. He sounded like a man who had lost his sense of humor.

At the same time, Elega protested, "No! I will hear my mother's messages!"
Elega is under a lot of suspicion from the Prince for her lying about having a headache to cover up her unexpected meeting with Myste. Because of this, we have seen her being far more self-disciplined in her responses to others than has usually been the case. Previously, she has been quick to pronounce judgments. However, her self-discipline seems to start unraveling now, when faced with the prospect of hearing her mother's reaction to her alliance with Alend. Perhaps it is defensiveness or guilt that makes her so eager to her what the Queen might say. Perhaps she hopes for the Queen's messages (which of c ourse do not exist) to convey understanding or approval, so that Elega can at last feel she has an ally in her family.
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Prince Kragen was saying, "Continue, my lady Terisa." Despite his self-control, he looked eager. "I am sure that we will be able to achieve an equitable exchange when you are done."

Grinning, Terisa wagged her finger at him. "Be fair. That isn't the way the game is played."

Geraden stood facing Elega; his voice was pitched to cover Terisa's. His tone didn't convey any authority, however. It didn't even convey confidence. Instead, it hinted at hysteria.

"The fact is," he said, "we don't have any messages from the Queen. She didn't have time to give us any. She was planning to come here herself. She wanted to stand beside the King. But she didn't get the chance."

In spite of the pressure to speak, he faltered. Elega's gaze was fastened to his face; her whole body concentrated toward him.

"Go on," she said with her throat clenched.

"Continue, my lady!" Prince Kragen snapped, apparently trying to startle words out of Terisa.

Just in time, Terisa put her finger to her lips and made a shushing noise.

"Elega, I'm sorry," Geraden said miserably. "While we were there, the Queen was taken. Ambusdhed. Imagery and soldiers. She was abducted>"

Slowly as if she could barely lift them, Elega raised her hands to her mouth.

"We know who the Imager was."

Her breath came hard, straining between her teeth.

"The soldiers were Alends."
This is the most vulnerable we have ever seen Elega, when there is no scheme that can be followed to achieve an outcome she desires. Thinking the Prince is involved in abducting her mother pulls the foundation of her understandings from her.
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Post by Skyweir »

Brilliant scene Cordy .. I love the balance your giving to each of the princesses, especially Elega .. as she is so often the subject of scorn.
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Elega's image with readers is that of a haughty, judgmental person, I'm guessing (based on her low poll standing, and based upon some comments posted about her, including by me). But I think she is not really a bad person. She feels, like Nyle, that her actions are ultimately saving the people of Mordant. I think her image just suffers in comparison to the high likeability of her sisters Myste and Torrent.
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