King Joyse

[Cord Hurn]

We get some clue of the relationship between the King and the Domne, besides that they're friends, when Geraden and the Tor send for Terisa in the King's name to free her from Lebbick's hostile questioning. Arriving at King Joyse's private reception room, Terisa thanks the Tor and Geraden for their gesture, while nearby the King sleeps in his chair with a scroll lying on his body.

"I'm glad I did something right." His [Geraden's] smile was embarrassed and happy. "Please don't count on it. It doesn't happen that often."

"Tush, young Geraden," the Tor interposed. "You malign yourself." He drained his flagon and waved it until the Apt found a decanter and poured more wine for him. "Your difficulty is quite simple. You have not found your true abilities. As the King's chancellor, I dispense advice freely to all. Born swordsmen make very clumsy farmers, as I am sure your brother Artagel would agree. Give up Imagery. A son of the Domne should not spend his life providing jokes for Imagers."

Geraden's face darkened, not with anger, but with pain. "I would if I could." The quick distress in his voice went straight to Terisa's heart. "I'm a disappointment to my whole family. I know that. But I can't--I can not give it up."

The Tor studied his wine with the air of a man who didn't want to meet Geraden's eyes. "At least you are your father's son. Take comfort in that. He, too, is stubborn. I have heard King Joyse say that he would rather break his head on a stone wall than argue with the Domne."

Privately, Terisa thought that if Artagel had been present he would have denied being disappointed in his brother at all.

Abruptly, the King made a snorting noise. A twitch of his head dislodged the scroll, and the parchment slipped aside, curling around itself among the others on the rug. Blinking, he raised his hands to his chest and flexed them as if they had gone numb.

"The Domne," he muttered at the ceiling. "Stubborn man. Rather break my head on a stone wall."

I find it funny the King confirms the Tor's statement, as if right on cue. This passage also gives the impression the Domne has been very adamant about imparting his values to Joyse, I think.


[Edited to correct the chapter number.}

[shadowbinding shoe]

Thank you Cord.
I loved every scene the Tor was present in. He's such a great character.

What do you think about the role of prophecy (the Auguries) in Joyce' development? Havelock made it when he was a baby though we can't be certain how much he showed young Joyce. By the time the story starts Joyce knows all of it.

[Cord Hurn]

What do you think about the role of prophecy (the Auguries) in Joyce' development? Havelock made it when he was a baby though we can't be certain how much he showed young Joyce. By the time the story starts Joyce knows all of it.

There's kind of a positive feedback loop, a weird synergy, when it comes to augury and how knowing the augury affects the future--that's my opinion. I don't think it is well understood by anyone, even someone as scholarly as Adept Havelock.

In the lower level of Orison, after Havelock rescues Terisa, Geraden, and Artagel from the predatory large cockroach creatures, the Adept speaks of what he knows about the horrid roaches. Then he starts talking about the mystery surrounding auguries.

He [Havelock] tried to smile again--this time unsuccessfully. Without transition, he said, "You're probably wondering why I brought you here. Well, I can't tell you that. If I knew the answer myself, it probably wouldn't make sense. But I want to tell you a little bit about King Joyse."

Terisa swallowed the change of subject as well as she could and waited for him to go on.

"You know, the relationship between Imagery, augury, and fate is an interesting philosophical question." His tone was peaceful now, but his eyes contradicted it. His manner brought back the idea of a lurking spider. "Before Joyse was born, I was what some people called the 'pet Imager' of the Cadwal prince who ruled Orison and the Demesne. He was a petty tyrant, but imaginative in his cruelties, and I was growing desperate for hope. So I tried to arrange an augury for the coming birth.

"Unfortunately, I was unable to shape a flat glass to show the room where he would be born. The best I could create was an Image of a hill just outside of Orison--a hill," he added by the way, "which is now in the castle. In fact, it forms the foundation for the tower where he has his rooms.

"But at time," he resumed, "the focus of my mirror refused to be adjusted any farther than the stables where our prince allowed us to keep our mangy horses.

"Of course, I could have waited until the child was born and grew up enough to go to the stables on his own. But as I say I was growing desperate. So one black night soon after he was born, I stole little Joyse from his cradle and took him down to the stables and risked leaving him there alone in a pile of straw while I raced back to my small laborium to work the augury.

"He took cold and nearly died--but I got what I wanted."

From where he stood, he couldn't see Geraden and Artagel as they crept past the edge of the pillar. Terisa glanced at them to reassure herself about Artagel's condition--and to try to warn them not to interfere. Then she returned her attention to the Adept.

"It was a remarkable augury, unusually distinct in some ways, maddeningly vague in others. On the one hand, it clearly showed Joyse making himself a king. On the other, it proved to have almost nothing to do with the process by which he actually did become King. It didn't show the battles he actually fought, the victories he actually won, the decisions he actually made. So it was no help to us at all along the way. The best it gave us was an occasional bit of confirmation, when the results of something he did--like the creation of the Congery--unexpectedly matched the Images in the augury.

"Let me give you an example," he said blandly while the pace of his gaze increased. "According to my augury, he became King as an old man. Sometime after a large, unexplained hole was torn in the side of Orison."

While Terisa stared--and Geraden and Artagel fought to muffle their surprise-Havelock permitted himself a stiff shrug. She felt sure he was trying to tell her something urgent, something she couldn't possibly understand. "At the time, the idea that I would have to wait until was old was so depressing--I almost didn't bother to go rescue him from the stables. But since then I've had a lot of time to ask myself what went wrong. Did I falsify my augury by not allowing the conditions for it to happen naturally? Does the very act of casting an augury change events? Or are there other possibilities? Has King Joyse changed his own fate by being stronger--or weaker--than he would have been if he hadn't taken cold that night and nearly died?

"We would be better off if we could answer questions like these."

Havelock's story seems to beg more questions than it answers. Is it hard to imagine Adept Havelock in his late teens or early twenties? (It sure is for me!) Is Joyse the son of that Cadwal tyrant? Wasn't Havelock risking execution by sneaking a royal baby in and out of the castle? How the heck did the Adept even know that there was hope for a political change centered on Joyse?

I'm pretty sure that the scene interpreted by the young Havelock as Joyse becoming King as an old man is Joyse leading a formal celebration to commemorate the defeat of Cadwal, Vagel, Gilbur, and Eremis.

[shadowbinding shoe]

Very interesting.

From what I remember, Mordant was repopulated every generation or so with new slaves and tyrants from Alend and Cadwal. So the Caretakers we meet might be the descendants of the previous generation of leaders, probably not the sons of the actual tyrants (would be killed by conquerors) but the sons of their government officials. It fits with their chosen titles.

Joyce could be either way. Clearly he had important blood for Havelock to pin his hopes on him. In the tales of his youth (Terisa hears it when the Tor arrives, I think) he retakes the castle from new marauding conquerers. I'll say he's the son of that Cadwal prince which Havelock took care of.

[Cord Hurn]

Sees a pretty fair possibility to me too--if the shoe fits, Shoe, then Joyse should wear it!

Speaking of wear, the King looks worse for wear when showing up at the Esmerel encampment of the Mordant/Alend armies. Terisa, Geraden, the Tor, Ribuld, and Norge are in the To's tent with a doctor overlooking the old lord's condition, when the King shows up looking rough and "ready to rumble":

The tentflaps were swept aside, and King Joyse strode in.

He startled Terisa so badly that she nearly stumbled to her knees.

He was filthy. Clots of mud clung to his battle gear--his breastplate and mail leggings, the protective iron pallettes on his shoulders, the brassards strapped to his arms. His mail had been cut, hacked at by swords. Blows dented his breastplate. Blood stained his thick cloak and the leather us armor; black streaks marked the tooled scabbard which held his longsword. Grime filled his beard, caked his hair to his scalp.

Nevertheless he entered the tent like a much younger man. He strode forward with strength in his legs, authority in his arms; and his eyes flashed a blue so deep that it was almost purple.

When he saw Terisa and Geraden, he grinned like a boy.

"Well met. Better to come late than not to come at all, I always say."

"My lord King," Geraden breathed, gaping. He was too surprised to bow, almost too surprised to speak. "Are you hurt?"

"A few scratches." The King's grin broadened into the smile Terisa remembered, the smile of innocence and pleasure, the sunrise which lit all his features and made him the kind of man for whom people were willing to die. "Nothing my enemies can pride themselves for."

Nice to see Joyse with some fire and confidence in him though! For the first time in the story, we see him completely without any pretense, without any acting performance whatsoever.

[Cord Hurn]

Geraden's persona has changed, too, and it was NEVER a performance with him! He risks all to make sure King Joyse "keeps it real", as I see it.

"Now," King Joyse faced Terisa and Geraden. He stood slightly poised, as if he were ready to spring, and his eyes blazed blue. "You have a great deal to tell me. Before Prince Kragen comes. Begin from Gart's attack in the hall of audiences.

"Where is Castellan Lebbick?"

His intensity was so compelling that Terisa almost started to answer. Geraden, however, had other ideas. He shifted a bit away from her, a bit ahead of her, placing himself between her and danger. Folding his arms on his chest, he said firmly--so firmly that Terisa was simultaneously amazed and proud and frightened--"You've been fighting your enemies, my lord King. I can decide better what to tell you if you'll tell me who gave you your 'scratches.'"

The King's eyes narrowed. "Geraden," he said harshly, "Do you remember who I am?"

Geraden didn't flinch. "Yes, my lord King. You're the man who abandoned the throne of Mordant when we needed you most. You're the man who brought us all to the edge of ruin without once"--his anger stung the air--"having the decency to tell us the truth."

Instead of retorting, King Joyse studied Geraden as if the younger man had become someone he didn't know, a completely different person. A moment later, he shrugged, and the peril in his gaze eased.

"Your father, the Domne," he said evenly, "has given me many gifts, both of friendship and of service. His greatest gift to me, however, is the loyalty of his sons. I trust you, Geraden. I have trusted you for a long time. And I have given you little reason to trust me. You will answer me when you are ready.

"I have been fighting, as you see"--he indicated his battle gear--"to rescue Queen Madin."

Rescue Queen Madin. Rescue the Queen. Terisa didn't understand how that was possible--the distances were too great, the time too short--but his mere statement filled her with so much relief that she could hardly keep her legs under her.

"Doubtless," King Joyse explained, "you have been told of the strange shapeless cloud of Imagery with which Havelock broke Prince Kragen's catapults. That shape is a creature, a being--a being with which Havelock has contrived an improbable friendship.

"I must confess that when you told me of the Queen's abduction I became"--he pursed his lips wryly--"a trifle unreasonable. It was always my intention to lead whatever forces Orison could muster myself. I meant to intimidate an alliance out of Margonal. I could coerce the Congery somehow. For that reason, my old friend"--he nodded toward the sprawling Tor--"had no place in my plans. I did not know that I would need him."

"That's my fault," Terisa said abruptly, unexpectedly Geraden had placed himself between her and the King for a reason, a reason she ought to respect. Nevertheless she couldn't keep still. "You were doing what you had to do. You hurt the Tor and Castellan Lebbick and Elega and everyone else so they wouldn't realize your weakness was only a ploy. So they wouldn't betray you. But I already betrayed you. I told Eremis"--the thought of her own folly choked her--"told Eremis you knew what you were doing. That's why he took the Queen."

King Joyse looked at her hard, so hard that she blushed in chagrin. Yet his gaze held no recrimination. After a brief pause, he said, "My lady, you were provoked," and returned his attention to Geraden.

"As I say," he continued, "I became unreasonable. I abandoned you. Though he pleaded with me to reconsider, I forced Havelock to translate his strange friend for me, and that shape bore me to the Care of Fayle as swift as wings. At the debris of Vale House, I found the trail of a motley collection of the Fayle's old servants and soldiers attempting to pursue Torrent and the Queen. That trail eventually led me to Torrent's--eventually, I say, or I would have returned to you a day or more sooner--and so to Torrent herself and the Queen.

"At the cost of much hardship and privation and danger"--his eyes hinted at pride--"my demure and retiring daughter saved her mother. She enabled me to find the Queen and set her free.

"Her abductors defended themselves as well as they could--well enough to prevent the Fayle's men and me from capturing or questioning them--but a last they fell." The state of his gear testified that the battle hadn't been easy. "When I had taken Queen Madin and Torrent to safety in Romish, Havelock's friend brought me here as quickly as possible."

Geraden absorbed this account without obvious surprise or appreciation. When King Joyse had finished, Geraden asked noncommittally, "And you didn't stop in Orison? You don't have any news from there?"

The King was losing patience. "Do I look like a man who has spent time on social amenities and conversation? I knew that if I did not find you here I could return to Orison at my leisure. But if I had stopped there first and failed to find you, the delay might have made me too late to join you. I have learned nothing, heard nothing, since the moment I left the hall of audiences.

"Geraden," he concluded warningly, "I must know what has happened in my absence. I must hear the tale you brought to Orison with Prince Kragen. I cannot go into battle without that knowledge."

"My lord King," Geraden responded as if he were immune to Joyse's impatience, "Eremis is holding my brother Nyle hostage somewhere near here--a stronghold of some kind, probably. Eremis is going to use him against us. Against me. And it's my doing. If I hadn't been so determined to stop him from betraying you to Elega and Prince Kragen, he never would have been vulnerable to Eremis. He wouldn't have been locked up where Eremis could get at him.

"But it's your doing, too. You've always been such a friend of the Domne. You welcomed Artagel. You went out of your way to draw me to you. And yet you always ignored Nyle.

His yearning was as great as mine. He has plenty of ability. And he was raised from the beginning on Artagel's stories about you, the Domne's stories. He would have belling to kill for you by the time he was six."

"Geraden," King Joyse growled.

Nevertheless Geraden went on, "Why didn't you value him at all? Why didn't you give him something to save him while he was still young enough to save?"

"You exceed yourself," snapped the King. "I have not come all this way to answer such questions."

"But you're going to answer this one," Geraden replied as if he was sure--as if he had the capacity to make King Joyse do what he wanted. The hint of authority in his voice was so subtle that Terisa scarcely heard it. He meant to wrest some kind of truth from his King.

And the King did answer. To her astonishment, he retreated visibly, with a crestfallen air, a look of embarrassment; Geraden had touched an old shame. "Yes," he muttered, "all right. You are right. I always did ignore him. There was always a quality in his dumb need which I disliked. He pitied himself before I could pity him--and so I had no desire to pity him.

"But that is not the reason.

"Artagel was another matter altogether. His talent with the sword was obvious. Anyone would have welcomed him. But you, Geraden--" The King's gaze was angry and hurt at once, as if his own sense of culpability baffled him. "I did not choose you out of a desire to give you precedence over Nyle. I would not have done that to the son of a friend. No, I drew you to me because I had already seen your importance in Havelock's augury."

Geraden hissed a breath; but King Joyse didn't stop.

"The glass which he broke when I was an infant showed you exactly as you appear in the Congery's augury"--for a moment, the King's voice sounded as raw as splintered wood--"surrounded entirely by mirrors in which Images of violence reflected against you. How could I let you be? I had to save you, if that were possible. And if it were not, I had to give you the chance to save me.

"Geraden," King Joyse admitted in frank pain, "on your father's love, I swear to you that I slighted Nyle's yearning only because I was not wise enough to see where it would lead him. The Domne has given me nothing but love and loyalty. In the matter of his son Nyle I failed him."

For a long moment, Geraden didn't speak. When he did, his throat was tight with emotion. "We all failed, my lord King. For my part--I swear to you on my father's love that I'll save you if I can. No matter how many people you've hurt. You haven't been honest with us for a long time, and I hate that. But you're still my King. Nobody can fill that place but you."

Did Joyse really HAVE to apologize for what happened to Nyle? NO!
Was it nice and rather wise of him to do it anyway? YES!

[shadowbinding shoe]

King Joyce:
"I must confess that when you told me of the Queen's abduction I became"--he pursed his lips wryly--"a trifle unreasonable. It was always my intention to lead whatever forces Orison could muster myself. I meant to intimidate an alliance out of Margonal. I could coerce the Congery somehow. For that reason, my old friend"--he nodded toward the sprawling Tor--"had no place in my plans. I did not know that I would need him."

This doesn't sound like such a great plan. Were coercion, intimidation and his subjects' obligation to obey their king really the tools he meant to use? I think King Joyce is fibbing here to downplay himself in front of the friends he hurt so much with his great plan.

[Cord Hurn]

King Joyce:
"I must confess that when you told me of the Queen's abduction I became"--he pursed his lips wryly--"a trifle unreasonable. It was always my intention to lead whatever forces Orison could muster myself. I meant to intimidate an alliance out of Margonal. I could coerce the Congery somehow. For that reason, my old friend"--he nodded toward the sprawling Tor--"had no place in my plans. I did not know that I would need him."

This doesn't sound like such a great plan. Were coercion, intimidation and his subjects' obligation to obey their king really the tools he meant to use? I think King Joyce is fibbing here to downplay himself in front of the friends he hurt so much with his great plan.

It DOES seem a little too spontaneous and not well thought-out, doesn't it? But perhaps King Joyse felt the pressure of impending confrontation with Cadwal and the relief he would feel at "coming clean" with everybody would energize the situation in his favor and make him more persuasive with everybody. I guess.

[Cord Hurn]

Once Terisa raises her objections to King Joyse, we finally get to hear him justify the part he's played in Havelock's grand plan.

Terisa couldn't keep quiet any longer. "Castellan Lebbick is dead," she put in cruelly to get the King's attention. She needed answers of her own. "Gart killed him. All he managed to do before he died was save the Tor."

That made Geraden turn toward her, made King Joyse face her again.

The two men looked unexpectedly like a match for each other, suited to meet each other's demands.

"I defended you," she said with Lebbick's body vivid in her mind, and the Perdon's; with the Tor's hurt displayed under the light of the lanterns. "I stood up in front of everybody and told them what Master Quillon told me. You made yourself the only reasonable target. So the enemies you hadn't been able to identify would attack you instead of someone else. I told them. That's why we're all here. We decided to trust you even though you abandoned us.

"But Master Quillon is dead. Castellan Lebbick is dead. The Perdon is dead. The Tor is dying." Her distress accumulated as she spoke. She thought she would never be reconciled to all the different kinds of pain King Joyse had exacted from his friends. "Nyle is a hostage, and Houseldon has been burned to the ground, and Sternwall is sinking in lava, and the Fayle doesn't even have enough men left to rescue his own daughter, and now we're probably going to die slaughtered because we don't where Eremis' stronghold is," oh, curse you, curse you, you crazy old man, "and I want to know how you can stand it. How do you live with yourself? How do you expect us to trust you?

"You can't help now!" Overwhelmed by unpremeditated bitterness, Terisa cried, "You can't even beat Havelock at hop-board!"

Despite her outburst, however, King Joyse faced her gently. Her accusation hurt him less than Geraden's had; maybe he was readier for it. His face softened while she protested against him; his gaze was blurred by compassion. He waited until she was finished. Then, incongruously, he pulled an old hankerchief out of the seam of his breastplate and handed it to her so that she could wipe her eyes.

Geraden stood now at the King's shoulder as if he had been won over. "Terisa--" he began; but King Joyse touched his arm, stopped him.

"No, Geraden. I must answer her.

"My lady, I have already proved myself to you, after a fashion. You have seen atrocities in Mordant. Yet it was not I who perpetrated them. If I had not, as you say, made myself a target, those atrocities would be everywhere. Without the lure of my weakness, Eremis might have had great difficulty forging an alliance with High King Festten--and so he would have had no choice but to afflict Cadwal and Mordant and Alend with vile Imagery until all things were destroyed. At the cost of Quillon's life, and Lebbick's, and the Perdon's--at the cost yes, of my own wife's indignation, my own daughter's betrayal, I have procured my enemy's name as well as his attention, so that for Cadwal and Mordant and Alend there is still hope. I have given us the opportunity to fight for our world.

"But that is not what you wish to know, is it?"

His voice searched her, and his eyes seemed to probe her bitterness. When he looked at her like that, she felt an unaccountable desire to tell him about being locked in the closet, as if it were his fault in some way, as if there were something he could have done about it. Until this moment, he cut himself off from her--as her father had cut himself off. What made King Joyse a better man than her father?

"You dislike what I have done," the King said, "but you are able to grasp the necessity of it. Otherwise you would not have supported me. No, my lady, what you want from me is a more immediate hope. You wish me to be greater than you can imagine. You wish me to justify myself with power. You wish me to tell you that I have the means to save you."

Involuntarily, she ducked her head, unable to meet his steady blue scrutiny.

"Terisa," he said softly, "my lady, I cannot save you. I do not have the means.

"You know that already," he continued at once. "As you have observed, I cannot so much as defeat the Adept at hop-board. It is only a game, of course, a mere exercise--but I cannot forget that the pieces live and breathe, with names and spouses, children and bravery and fear. I am an unreasonable man. When Quillon told me that Myste went to you before her disappearance, I risked myself and all my plans in order to challenge you, even though Havelock's augury had given me reason to think I knew where she had gone. When my wife was threatened, I did not ask whether any larger need should outweigh her peril in my mind. I lack Havelock's particular sanity.

"And the same unreason weakens me everywhere. Shall I tell you a thing which shames me? When I learned that you had fled to Havelock after Quillon's death, that you had gone to him for rescue with Master Gilbur hot behind you, and that he had refused you--My lady, Havelock is my oldest friend. It was he who put me on the path to become what I am. But when I learned that he had refused you, I struck him--"

Geraden's eyes widened at that revelation; but he said nothing.

"Nevertheless," the King went on as if mere shame couldn't hold him back, "I am here. When Quillon was killed--Quillon, who had served me so long with such courage and cunning--I knew that this battle was mine to wage, rather than only to command. The blood must be on my hands. I will not have my pieces so contemptuously used. I will not allow Master Eremis to tilt the board, to remake the world in his own image." Terisa could have sworn that he was growing taller, rising to power in front of her. "Do you believe I care nothing for Lebbick's suffering, or the Tor's? Do you believe I have not felt your distress--or Geraden's--or Elega's?

"My lady, you have not seen me fight."

Curse you. Oh, curse you completely. I'll do anything you want. Just tell me what it is.

Strangely, King Joyse makes it easy to forgive him for his role-playing of the senile, callous, impractical, foolish, belligerent, unreliable ruler. He seems to know that it was worth it for him to patiently explain how he feels so that he gets a chance to makes things right. He's good at giving speeches charged with conviction, and this may be his best speech in the Mordant's Need story.

[shadowbinding shoe]

Going back to the supposition that Joyce is the son of a Cadwal Prince, it would give his title the requisited high blood and what's more, make Elega a legitimate heir to the Cadwal's throne

[Cord Hurn]

Going back to the supposition that Joyce is the son of a Cadwal Prince, it would give his title the requisited high blood and what's more, make Elega a legitimate heir to the Cadwal's throne

Yes, it would! Interesting point!

Speaking of Elega...

[Cord Hurn]

When Prince Kragen, Master Barsonage, and Castellan Norge join King Joyse, the Tor, Terisa, Geraden, Ribuld, and the Tor's physician in the Tor's tent...well, it almost gets out of hand for a moment, boiling into hostility between Joyse and Kragen. This, despite the Tor insisting to Joyse that Kragen is an honorable man. Thank goodness for Elega being placed where she can defuse things!!

"Margonal is crafty," commented King Joyse with deceptive nonchalance, "and apparently he has grown in courage. Well, now you are here, my lord Prince. What have you learned?"

Prince Kragen allowed himself a noncommittal shrug. "I have learned that we are indeed trapped. All our heads are on the cutting-block, and Alend will stand or fall with Mordant, regardless of my instructions."

"I think not," King Joyse retorted with the air of a man pouncing. "I think you will turn against us at the last and join Cadwal, to preserve your father's true cowardice."

At that, Kragen's head jerked back; a flush of fury darkened his cheeks; he closed his fist on his swordhilt.

In response, both Ribuld and Norge braced themselves to draw their blades. The cloaked figure against the tent wall started forward, then retreated. Geraden edged closer to Terisa, moving to protect her from the danger of swords.

No, she thought urgently, you don't understand, Prince Kragen is here with us, with us.

The Tor repeated hoarsely, "He is honorable. Honorable."

"My lord King," the Prince said between his teeth, "because you are the King, and because I have been told at length why I must trust you, I will assume you have reason to accuse me of such a betrayal."

"I have reason," snapped King Joyse. "During my absence, I saved Queen Madin from her abductors. It will not surprise you to hear that when at last I found her she was across the Pestil. Her abductors were Alends, and she was being taken by the most direct route toward Scarab."

Prince Kragen's mouth tightened under his moustache. His dark eyes burned with old enmity, with decades of violence, generations of bloodshed. He looked willing to gut King Joyse on the spot.

Yet he contained his outrage. And he didn't draw his sword. "And you persist," he demanded, "in the mad belief that I am capable of such a vile act?"

"No!" Terisa protested. "Eremis did it. He told me so." What was the matter with King Joyse? How could he suddenly be so wrong-headed? "It's just a trick to keep you and the Prince from joining forces."

Before she could go on King Joyse pointed a forbidding finger at her. "That proves nothing." The command in his stance forced her to be still. "Master Eremis has a pact with Cadwal. Why not with Alend?"

"Because," the cloaked figure cried, "he is honorable!"

"You do not trust him." Elega swept the hood back from her head as she advanced, and her vivid eyes flashed in the lantern-light. "Is the Tor wrong? Are Terisa and Geraden?" She called every gaze to herself, a cynosure of indignation and passion. Bright as a flame, she challenged her father. "He held Orison in the palm of his siege for days and days. He could have taken you apart stone from stone. Yet he withheld. Does that mean nothing to you? He allowed you time to prove yourself. And you dare accuse him of dishonor? You dare that to my face?"

King Joyse looked at her as if he were stunned.

"No, Father!" she raged. "The only dishonor in this tent is yours! It was you who refused to support the Perdon, you who humiliated Prince Kragen in the hall of audiences, you who allowed Terisa's attacker to roam Orison freely, you drove Myste away. You have no right to doubt the Prince. There is no alliance between Alend and Mordant because no one is able to trust you!"

Emotions throbbed under the King's old skin: outrage; alarm; disbelief. And vindication? She carries my pride with her wherever she goes.For a moment, no one moved; he didn't move. Elega met his stare as if she were prepared to outface the world.

All at once, King Joyse burst out laughing.

"Oh, very well, my lord Prince," he chortled while the people around him stared. "You are honest, and your father is honest, and I must apologize. If I do not, she will take the skin from my bones."

Geraden's mouth hung open. Prince Kragen clenched his jaws as if he didn't dare speak.

"It was not wise to bring her with you," King Joyse went on, "a woman in battle, a useful hostage if Eremis should capture her. But it was honest. If you intended treachery, you would have left her with Margonal. And she would not love you if you had such treachery in you. I know that about her.

"My lord Prince, please accept my regrets--and also my thanks. If we can be saved, it will be because of your courage, as well as your honor."

As King Joyse spoke, the excitement came back to Prince Kragen, the strange new eagerness which had led him into risks no Alend had ever hazarded before. His mouth twisted up the tips of his moustache. Slowly, he produced a smile to match Joyse's humor.

"Why do you think the decision was mine? Have you ever been able to tell her what to do?"

In response, the King laughed again; kindly, happily. He grinned like a new day. "Tell her what to do? Me?" Elega glared at him in confusion, but he didn't stop. "I am only her father. Tell her what to do? Most of the time, I am hardly allowed to make suggestions."

Then he sobered. "One thing, however, I will tell you, my lord Prince. Heed me well. While this war lasts, you will obey my orders." Now his tone admitted no argument: his command was as clear as a shout. "If we do not work together, we are doomed."

Prince Kragen only hesitated for a moment; then, still grinning, he nodded once, briefly.

Still ignoring the surprise and consternation and hope around him, King Joyse turned to Elega.

"As for you, my daughter," he said gladly, "you are pride and joy to me." Taking her hands, he raised them to his mouth and kissed them. "No one could have done better. The Queen herself could not have done better. Alone and without power or position, you have made an alliance where none existed.

"Oh, you please me!" Abruptly, he swept his gaze around the tent, swung his arms expansively. "You all please me! If we cannot save our world now, it will be because I have failed you, not because any one of you has failed Mordant. You have all given me better than I deserve."

In sheer joy, he kept on laughing; and after a moment Geraden joined him. Then surprising even himself, Prince Kragen began to chuckle. Elega's smile grew softer and easier as it spread.

Master Barsonage shook his head, laughing as well. Terisa squeezed her eyes hard to keep herself from weeping foolishly; didn't start to laugh until she realized that the Tor was snoring as if nothing had happened.

King Joyse's strategy of driving Elega away by belittling Prince Kragen at their first public meeting pays a big dividend: it keeps Joyse himself from overreacting the way Master Eremis wished him to behave. Elega is well-placed through position and bloodline to make an alliance a reality by reminding her father he's caused some of his own problems.


[Typo edits]

[Cord Hurn]

All King Joyse's strategizing concerning Terisa and Geraden concerns keeping them alive so that they can "do what they can do". It's enough for Joyse that they have survived to this point; he's content they'll figure out how their presence helps his cause. Joyse has obviously agaonized a lot over the details (the welfare of the "pieces") in his (and Havelock's) game, but not about what T & G can do to help.

"What troubles you, Geraden?" asked Prince Kragen eventually.

Geraden shook his head, staring at nothing.

"Say it, Geraden,: King Joyse urged mildly. "Words will not hurt us."

"I'm sorry, my lord King, my lord Prince." Geraden tried to force a happier look onto his face, without much success. "Nothing's wrong. I just can't get rid of the feeling that Terisa and I don't belong here."

Oh good, Terisa thought dimly. This again.

"Why?" inquired the King. "Where else would you be?"

Geraden grimaced in exasperation. "I have no idea." Almost at once, however, he added, "But it's obvious we're useless where we are. The Congery doesn't really have mirrors to spare for us. And if we had mirrors, what could we do? We don't know where Eremis' stronghold is. We don't know--"a more crucial point--"what it looks like. We have all this talent--and Eremis presumably thinks we can hurt him, or why would he try so hard to hurt us?--but there doesn't seem to be anything we can do."Prince Kragen frowned studiously; Elega nodded as if she understood the problem. But for some reason King Joyse seemed unable to take Geraden's concern seriously. "Well, Geraden," he said in a tone of confidence, "you can hardly expect advice from us. Those talents are yours, not ours. You are the only judge of what you can and cannot do."

"True," put in Master Barsonage. He seemed glad that he wasn't responsible for whatever Geraden and Terisa did.

"You will think of something in good time," concluded the King comfortably.

Before anyone could object, he began to dismiss his companions so that they all could get a few hours of sleep.

This lack of concern on Joyse's part seems to be contradictory of the Joyse we have come to know, but perhaps it isn't.

[Cord Hurn]

Right on the brink of battle...

Abruptly, the wardrums ceased.

The absence of the beat snatched at everyone's attention.

After the silence came the hoarse, bleating call of a sackbut.

A rider left the massed front of the Cadwal army. His armor burned with sunlight as if he were clad in gold.

At the end of his spear, he displayed a flag of truce.

"An emissary," observed King Joyse. "The High King wants to speak to us. He means to offer us an opportunity to surrender."

Growling through his moustache, Prince Kragen asked, "Why does he bother?"

"He hopes to see evidence that we are frightened."

"Will you meet him?"

"We will, my lord Prince," the King said; his tone didn't encourage discussion. "It may surprise you to hear this, but in all my years of warfare and contest, I have never had a chance to laugh in High King Festten's face."

Elega's eyes shone at her father as if she were delighted.

The Cadwal emissary was stopped and held at Mordant's front line, and a horseman brought the King the message that High King Festten did indeed wish to speak to him and Prince Kragen. In reply, Joyse sent back word that he and Kragen were willing to meet the King midway between the two armies as soon as the High King wished.

Mounted on sturdy chargers which had been trained for combat, King Joyse and Prince Kragen rode down the valley, accompanied only by Castellan Norge. Before them stretched the Cadwal army, an unbreachable as a cliff. And above them on the ramparts, the catapults watched and waited, apparently oblivious to several hundred men with ropes and four Masters who were already attempting to scale the walls at a number of different points.

At the frontof their army, the King and the Prince waited until they saw High King Festten emerge from his own forces.

"Watch for treachery," Norge warned, stifling a yawn.

"Treachery?" King Joyse chuckled grimly. "The High King only betrays those he fears. At the moment, I feel quite certain he does not fear us. That is his weakness." At once, he amended, "One of his weaknesses."

"My lord King," Prince Krage said like a salute, "I admire your confidence."

King Joyse gave his ally a fierce grin. "You justify it, my lord Prince."

When they saw the High King leave his guards behind, they rode out alone to meet him, crossing clean, white snow unmarked except by the emissary's passage.

At the agreed spot--a long bowshot from both armies--the three men came together. No one offered to dismount; and High King Festten kept some distance between himself and his enemies, as if he expected them to do something desperate. The stamping of the horses raised gusts of dry snow around the riders.

He was a short man--too short, really, for all the power he wielded. He compensated for his shortness, however, by wearing a golden helmet topped with a long spike and an elaborate plume. Between the cheekplates of his helmet, his eyes were stark, as if he had outlined them with kohl to give them force. His beard as it curled against the gold breastplate of his armor was dark and lustrous, probably dyed; only the lines and wrinkles hidden under his whiskers betrayed that he was older than King Joyse-and dedicated to his pleasures.

Ignoring Prince Kragen, he said, "Well, Joyse," as if he and the King were intimately familiar, despite the fact that they had never met, "after years of success you have come to a sorry end."

"Do you think so?" King Joyse smiled a smile which held no innocence at all. "I am rather pleased with myself. At last I have a chance to deal with all my enemies at once. It was only with the greatest reluctance that I allowed the Alend Contender to persuade me to offer you this one last chance to surrender."

If this remark surprised Prince Kragen, he didn't show it.

"'Surrender'?" spat the High King. Clearly, King Joyse had caught him off balance. "You wish me to surrender?"

King Joyse shrugged as if only his sense of humor kept him from losing interest in the conversation altogether. "Why not? You cannot win this war. The best you can hope for is the chance to save your life by throwing yourself on my mercy.

"You may be unaware," he went on before High King Festten could sputter a retort, "that your Master Eremis has offered me an alliance against you--which I have accepted."

"That is a lie!" the High King shouted, momentarily apoplectic. Quickly, however, he regained control of himself. In a colder voice, a tone unacquainted with pity, he said, "Master Eremis is mendacious, of course. But I have not trusted him blindly. Gart is with him. And he knows that I have commanded Gart to gut him at the slightest hint of treachery. Also he is aware that I no longer need him. I can crush you now"--he knotted his fist in the air--"without Imagery.

"You have no alliance with him. And the strength of Alend is as paltry as your own.

"No, Joyse, it is you who must surrender. And you must surrender now, or the chance will be lost. You have thwarted me for years, denied me for decades. The rule which is my right you have cut apart and dissipated and limited. You have opposed my will, killed my strength--you have denied me Imagery. There is no day of my life which you have not made less. If you do not capitulate to me here, I will exterminate you and all you have ever loved as easily as I exterminate rats!"

At that, King Joyse looked over at Prince Kragen. Mock-seriously, he said, "Come, my lord Prince. This discussion is pointless. The High King insists on jesting with us. In all the world, no one has ever succeeded at exterminating rats."

Casually, he turned his horse away.

His dark eyes gleaming, Prince Kragen did the same.

Together they rode back to their troops. The High King was left so furious that he seemed to froth at the mouth.

That was Joyse's way of laughing in his face.

[Cord Hurn]

The jest King Joyse makes in front of High King Festten is so unexpected that I laughed out loud the moment I first read it! I also like the way King Joyse is determined to be honest with the champion, even if it means he may forfeit the champion's much-needed help. This is admirable, and the King handles the whole unfamiliar situation quite well.

Facing the champion, he [Joyse] asked, "How should I address you?"

The champion frowned. "You mean name or rank? I'm Darsint, First Battle-Officer, Unified Expeditionary Force cruiser Scourge."

"Darsint," King Joyse pronounced. "Your offer of aid is very welcome. I need it badly. I doubt, however, that I will ever be able to help you."

Darsint's frown deepened.

Instinctively, Elega caught her breath. What was her father doing now? Yet a glance at Myste reassured her: Myste appeared grave, but undistressed. Geraden was nodding slowly, as if to confirm what King Joyse said. Terisa seemed to be watching the foot of the valley distractedly, expecting harm.

"I am sure," King Joyse explained, "my daughter has told you that you were brought here by translation--by mirror. But the glass responsible for your presence was broken." Tactfully, he didn't mention that Darsint himself had broken it.

"In addition, the only mirror we had which resembled that glass has also been shattered, by the enemies we now confront. As a result, I have no immediate aid to offer.

"I doubt that Master Gilbur can be persuaded to reveal how your mirror was made. Geraden is therefore our only hope." King Joyse didn't look at Geraden. "And I do not doubt that he will be able to reshape his mirror exactly, if we are victorious--if he is given time and peace."

Geraden continued nodding.

"But that only raises another difficulty," went on the King, "which is time itself. Our mirrors show Images of place, not of person. And the Images can be adjusted only over relatively small distances. Once Geraden has reshaped his glass, we will have the power to return you, not to your people or your home, but only to the place where you were found.

"How many days have passed since you were forced among us? And how many more will pass before Geraden is given time and peace? Will your 'cruiser'--will this Scourge--remain where it was, waiting for you?"

"Pythas," Darsint muttered darkly. "God-rotting piece of real estate. Should have left it alone while we had the chance. UEF needs a staging-area in that sector--but nobody needs a staging-area that bad."

King Joyse pursued his point. "Is it not more likely that your Scourge will be gone? that we will consign you to death among your enemies if we return you after so many days?"

"Shit, yes." The champion appeared to be chewing his lip below the rim of his visor's opening. "Pythians had us on the run when I got snatched. Plasma beams like 've never seen." He indicated his damaged armor. "Scourge'll be long gone."

"So I can promise you nothing," King Joyse concluded, "except that I will use you as hard as I can--and serve you as faithfully as I am able.

"Will you help us?"

Elega's chest hurt for air, but she kept holding each breath as long as she could, hoping that her father's candor wouldn't drive Darsint away.

The champion didn't take long to make up his mind. "Oh, well," he sighed like a disappointed nightingale. "Myste warned me. She's still the only friend I've got. And you're her father. She thinks you're worth saving.

"Too bad I can't do it." The twisting of his face resembled a grin; he may have been indulging in a piece of UEF humor. Elega wasn't sure: his features were as hard to read as stone.

"Weaker than I look. Like you. Handguns don't have the range you need--or the capacity. There's a limit to the number of people I can strangle personally. Can't stop what you've got coming." Inside his helmet, he nodded toward High King Festten's army. "And my rifle's about discharged--"

The blaring of the sackbut interrupted him.

At once, six catapults started winding back their arms.

Simultaneously, the wardrums began to beat their rhythm into the valley.

With a sharp look in that direction, Elega saw the Cadwal front advancing, preparing itself to pour through the breaks in the ridge. Too soon: the King and his champion weren't ready. And she hadn't had a chance to learn how Myste and Darsint and the Termigan came to be here--how they came to be together.

"But I'm not helpless." By degrees, it became more obvious that Darsint's expression was intended as a smile. "Might have enough charge left to take care of those toys for you." He gestured up at the siege engines. "Might even put a little God-rotting fear into your God-rotting enemies."
He stopped as if he were waiting for someone to catch the joke and laugh.

After a moment, King Joyse did laugh--a short, hard chuckle, not of humor, but of recognition, "'A little God-rotting fear.' I like the sound of that. Someday you must explain 'God-rotting' to me. I suspect it is a phrase Castellan Lebbick would have enjoyed, if he had known it.

"Please do 'take care of' the catapults." King Joyse considered the Cadwal position, the readiness of the engines. "As soon as possible."

Still grinning that twisted, beaky grin, Darsint pulled his rifle off his back.

Someday you must explain 'God-rotting' to me. I suspect it is a phrase Castellan Lebbick would have enjoyed, if he had known it. I'm sure Lebbick would have LOVED using a cursing interjection like that, actually!

[Cord Hurn]

King Joyse's bravest moment in the story comes after Master Eremis has the gigantic slug-beast translated to the valley of Esmerel.

It would consume the entire army itself. Or it would drive guards and soldiers to the walls, where High King Festten's men could crush them at leisure. Or it would force them out of the valley, where the Cadwal army could fall on them from both sides. Something extravagant--This was extravagant, all right. But it wasn't desperate. It was a masterstroke, completely unanswerable; defeat as stark and terrible as the creature's teeth.

Helpless to save themselves, the Alend and Mordant ranks came apart like water and began spilling in all directions. Their cries were everywhere; hoarse and frantic; doomed.

The sight set King Joyse afire. "Death's hachetman, Eremis!" he roared in a voice that seemed to match the monster's, "this is foul!"

But he didn't waste time on indignation. Wheeling to Norge, he barked like a trumpet, "Find Kragen! Rally the men! Retreat! That beast is no danger yet! We must stop this panic!

"Bring my horse!"

Galvanized by the King's shout, Norge raced for his own mount while two dumbstruck guards hauled Joyse's suddenly frightened charger forward

In a moment, both men were gone, spurring their horses into the face of an army transformed to tumult and chaos. King Joyse didn't rage at his enemies; he didn't shout at his men. He simply rode hard, rode conspicuously, straight for the foot of the valley, with his sword bright in his hands, so that as many soldiers and guards as possible would see him and think he wasn't beaten.

And he ends up sitting on his horse almost in front of that slug-beast so that the armies of Mordant and Alend will see it and not panic! WOW!!!! Does he ever set the example for his people! This is the scene that I wish was painted for the cover of A Man Rides Through, to be quite honest.

[Cord Hurn]

King Joyse and Queen Madin are both strong-willed people. We see Joyse's final challenge in the story being described shortly before we read of Terisa and Geraden getting married.

Naturally, King Joyse and Queen Madin presided. From time to time, they held hands; and the Queen seemed to dote on Terisa and Geraden as if one of her own children were getting married. According to rumor, however, their reunion had been a stormy one for a long time after her return to Orison. She was said to have been furious at his treatment of her, his refusal to share his secrets with her, to involve her in his plans; and all his protestations and explanations had just made her angrier. This was only rumor, of course. It was true, however, that he had sometimes emerged from their private rooms looking like a man who would have preferred almost any warfare to this peace.

Nevertheless by the time of the wedding they had resolved or accepted their differences, and had begun to enjoy each other's company again. Perhaps he had aided their reconciliation by naming Torrent to succeed him. From their raised seats at one end of the ballroom, they smiled approval at the assembly, and at each other, and were satisfied.

It may take a while, but they're going to work it out!

(Incidentally, this wedding scene in Orison's ballroom was predicted in the Congery's augury of Mordant's need, and this is the last prediction to be fulfilled.)

[Cord Hurn]

Wayfriend posted this Gradual Interview quote in the "Mordant's Princesses" thread, and I think it has a place here, as well:

I am going to throw this out because it seems relevant to the topic, but not in response to any particular things. And because IMO it's important in its own right.

I cannot help but notice that the Mordant's Need series is a bit more "spicey" than your other works that I have read. Poor Terisa seems to have frequent trouble with torn or missing clothing, her breasts are mentioned in almost every chapter, etc.

Not that I didn't find it enjoyable! But this inquiring mind wants to know: what were the details behind this choice?

• "Mordant's Need" is more explicitly *about* gender roles and stereotypes than my other stories. Terisa Morgan begins the story with such a frail sense of her own identity that she makes Linden Avery at the beginning of "The Wounded Land" look fully self-actualized. And Mordant itself is gripped by rigid gender stereotypes: the kind of male-dominated quasi-medieval society that we so often find in mediocre fantasy novels. Well, the subsequent story describes how Terisa discovers her own reality as both a person and a woman *while* the culture of Mordant undergoes a profound redefinition of gender roles, predominently as that pertains to the permissable/available roles for women. King Joyse (get it?) sets in motion events which eventually enable his daughters, his wife, and Terisa herself to assume unexpected roles which transform their society.
  
  In other words, "Mordant's Need" is about sex. Specifically it's about how the treatment of women as mere sexual objects breaks down in a society which is in danger of breaking down itself under pressures both external and internal; and about how the breaking down of the treatment of women as mere sexual objects actually enables their society to be both transformed and saved. So naturally the evidence that women are being treated as mere sexual objects is fairly overt.
  
  In addition, these issues also touch on the "rape" theme which is so prevalent in my writing. But "Mordant's Need" is--as I intended it to be--a *gentler* story than my usual work; and so "the evidence that women are being treated as mere sexual objects," while overt, is seldom violent. Hence your observation that the story is more "spicey" than others I've written.
  
  (10/10/2004)

[wayfriend]

Alas, I still don't get it. No matter how you pronounce it.

[Cord Hurn]

When shadowbindingshoe would spell the King's name as "Joyce", I once objected to him that Joyce was a name only for females. Shoe then provided me with this link showing that in the past, the name has masculine as well as feminine history in its use: www.behindthename.com/name/joyce .

So, it can fit that someone like King Joyse, with a name many would recognize as sounding feminine, would set in motion events that can change the role opportunities for women in Mordant; changing the ways that women can "make a name for themselves" as rulers or Imagers. Hope that helps, Way!

Perhaps I'm mistaken (sure wouldn't be the first time ), but that's my "take" on why Joyse is a good name for a king who takes actions to empower women.