Nyle

"Reflect" on Stephen Donaldson's other epic fantasy

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Merlanthe wrote:As already noted his experiences have made him cautious and hopefully a little wiser but I think being an outsider is a big influence on his being an acceptable contender for the position of alend monarch.

I can definitely see the various alend factions being more willing to accept an outsider who has no previous ties and therefore no bias in his decision making as ruler than a man who has past ties to one of the factions and may favor that faction in future decisions. It also gives the current alend monarch a candidate he can mentor into the role. I'm sure by the time Nyle is handed the reins he will have been thoroughly drilled on everything margonal thinks is necessary to do a good job and probably be quite familiar with the various alend factions and they with him.

From a realistic point of view what is left in mordant for Nyle? He has seemingly spent his life floundering round not knowing what to do with himself and seemingly no one has given him any guidance or direction to follow. In many ways I see him as a milder version of Teresa as they seem to share the same problem, that being a lack of meaning or purpose in their life and an inability to see any for themselves.

Just because Joyce makes a public show of embracing him and forgiving him isn't going to magically change how Nyle lacks direction and meaning to his life or how people will perceive him after everything that's happened. There really isn't anything for him in mordant beside his family who love him but seem unable to give him the help he needs. By becoming a candidate for the alend throne he is able to make a fresh start and find a meaning and purpose for his life.
These are all very good insights, Merlanthe! It makes Nyle's story resolution seem more logical and satisfying. 8)
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It certainly wasn't easy for me to like Nyle, knowing what a good soul Geraden is and seeing how harshly he talks to Geraden. It took quite a while for me to feel sorry for him, and that was after he had saved Geraden and Terisa from the callat only to be knocked out by his brother.
Suddenly, Geraden let out a yelp of surprise and pleasure and took off at a run, splashing mud.

Terisa and Elega stared after him. "I swear to you, Terisa," the lady said, "that man becomes more like a boy every year." Despite her tone, she looked perplexed--perhaps even a little worried. "Surely he knows that it is neither courteous nor wise to abandon us?"

Terisa watched him dodging recklessly through the crowd and held her breath, afraid that he would fall. But he didn't. Instead, he came to a stop as suddenly as he had started.

"Let's go see what he's doing." Without waiting for agreement, she headed in that direction.

Elega sighed audibly and joined her.

Geraden hadn't gone far. They found him with another man, who appeared to be considerably less than delighted by the fact that Geraden had spotted him.

"Terisa," the Apt announced as she and Elega reached him, "this is my brother Nyle."

Then he began babbling.

"Artagel told me you were her, but I almost didn't believe him. I haven't been able to find you. Where have you been hiding? It's great to see you. Why are you here? The last I heard, you were in Houseldon for the winter. You were trying to talk yourself out of--well, never mind that. Is everyone all right? How is Father? And Tholden? How about--"

"Let him answer, Geraden," chided Elega firmly. "I am sure he did not come out of 'hiding', as you call it, specifically so that you could drive him to distraction."

With an effort, Geraden cut off his rush of words.

Unabashedly curious, Terisa studied Nyle. She would have known him as Geraden's brother anywhere. He had Geraden's hair and coloring, Geraden's build, only an inch less than Geraden's height.
It was clear that he took no joy in meeting Geraden.

Stiffly, he bowed to the two women. "My lady Elega." He and Elega didn't And he would have had Geraden's face, if his features hadn't been set for brooding instead of openheartedness. He looked like a disconcerted version of his younger brother, a man whose basically serious nature had curdled.
look at each other. "My lady Terisa. I'm glad to meet you"--Terisa heard no pleasure in his voice--"even though my brother hasn't bothered to introduce us."

Geraden started to apologize but Nyle cut him off. "You haven't been able to find me because I've been busy with my private affairs." He glared at Geraden, and his tone was acid. "They don't have anything to do with you, so there's no reason why you should be involved in them."

"What do you mean, 'private affairs'?" snorted Geraden. "I'm your brother. You don't have private affairs. Even Stead"--he laughed shortly--" doesn't have private affairs, and he needs them more than you do. Half the husbands in Domne flinch every time he walks into the room. What can you possibly be doing that doesn't involve your own family?"

A muscle in Nyle's cheek twitched; however, he kept the rest of his face still. Turning from Geraden, he bowed again to Terisa and Elega. "My ladies, I hope you enjoy your outing. We're lucky to have this weather."

With his shoulders squared and his back rigid, he strode away between the shops.

Terisa shot a look at Geraden. His face was knotted: for an instant, he seemed on the verge of chasing after his brother, shouting something. Then he swung toward Elega. "My lady,"--he bit down to keep his voice steady--"is this your doing?"

She wasn't taken aback by the accusation. Watching Nyle's departing figure vividly, she murmured, "It may have something to do with me. I should speak to him. Excuse me."

Pulling up her skirts, she hurried after him.

Geraden moved to follow. Instinctively, Terisa put a hand on his arm. Hadn't she heard Elega mention Nyle once? When was that? Oh, yes. When Elega first took her to meet Myste. Nyle is more to my taste. Geraden looked at her to see why she had restrained him; she asked, "How could it be her doing?"

Elega caught up with Nyle and stopped him. Their faces couldn't be seen clearly: too many people intervened, moving in both directions. And of course what they said was inaudible.

Distantly, Geraden replied, "He's been nursing a passion for her for years, but he thinks it's hopeless. He thinks--" He frowned in vexation. "I don't understand it. He thinks he isn't grand, or special enough for her. He hasn't done anything dramatic in the world. He knows she's ambitious, and he's sure she won't have him. I think it galls him that I was the one who was betrothed to her--and I let her get away.

"He told us he was going to stay in Houseldon all winter to talk himself out of asking for her hand."

"So you think he came to Orison to see if she'll have him?"

Geraden nodded. His face was tight with empathy. "But I guess he hasn't asked her yet. If he did, and she turned him down, he wouldn't stick around. So she must have done something to hurt him before he got his courage nailed down tightly enough to actually propose. He can't leave because he hasn't done what he came for. But he's in too much pain to do it.

"Blast her." He glanced at Terisa. "I'm guessing, of course. But look at them. Whatever it is, she knows what's eating at him."

The glimpse Terisa caught through the crowd seemed to confirm Geraden's opinion. Elega was talking to Nyle--pleading with him?--as though she knew what to say. And his answers--brusque as they were--suggested understanding, even approval.
The idea that he is Geraden whose nature had curdled to bitterness makes him seem like his loss of openheartedness is largely his own fault.
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Cord Hurn wrote:It certainly wasn't easy for me to like Nyle, knowing what a good soul Geraden is and seeing how harshly he talks to Geraden. It took quite a while for me to feel sorry for him, and that was after he had saved Geraden and Terisa from the callat only to be knocked out by his brother.
(...book quote...)
The idea that he is Geraden whose nature had curdled to bitterness makes him seem like his loss of openheartedness is largely his own fault.
There was that time after Geraden flees to his homeland when he becomes bitter and cynical. It takes Terissa's hopefulness and belief in him to get him back to his old self. He was actually less attractive than Nyle at that point.
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Certainly I find it easier to pity Nyle when we see him at the Congery's meeting at the end of book 1...
Looking for Master Quillon, her eye was caught by Castellan Lebbick.

When she saw him, her throat suddenly went dry.

He had Nyle with him.

Geraden's brother sat beside the Castellan at the far end of one row of chairs. He wore a brown worsted cloak over his clothes. Inside it, his arms bunched across his chest, holding the cloak shut. His head hung at a dejected angle. He didn't look up at Terisa and Geraden.

________________________

Everyone looked at Nyle.

Geraden's brother seemed unaware of what was going on. His dejected posture didn't shift: his head didn't rise. The grimace that distorted his features was as deep as despair. Abruptly, he turned and whispered in Catellan Lebbick's ear.

Nyle turned his gaze to the floor.
Nyle seems as dejected as he's ever going to get. But we "ain't seen nothin' yet", as the saying goes. I can sure feel sorry for Nyle by this point in the story, for sure.
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shadowbinding shoe wrote:
Cord Hurn wrote:It certainly wasn't easy for me to like Nyle, knowing what a good soul Geraden is and seeing how harshly he talks to Geraden. It took quite a while for me to feel sorry for him, and that was after he had saved Geraden and Terisa from the callat only to be knocked out by his brother.
(...book quote...)
The idea that he is Geraden whose nature had curdled to bitterness makes him seem like his loss of openheartedness is largely his own fault.
There was that time after Geraden flees to his homeland when he becomes bitter and cynical. It takes Terissa's hopefulness and belief in him to get him back to his old self. He was actually less attractive than Nyle at that point.

You're right, shadowbinding shoe, because at least he's not captive and tormented. Geraden's just out of ideas at that point in the story, is what I think--feeling he's more responsible and inadequate for everything that's about to be lost in Mordant.
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In Chapter 42 of [i]A Man Rides Through[/i] was wrote:Calm. It was essential to remain calm. To preserve a semblance of calm until it became the real thing. So that she could concentrate although of course it was impossible to translate herself out of here with a chain on her wrist no, don't think about things like that, do not. Be calm. Concentrate.

Fade.

Pressing her hands over her face, she sat on the edge of the bed and tried to fade.

She couldn't do it: she was too angry and scared, deprived of hope. She had the shakes so badly that her heart itself quivered. She had betrayed King Joyse, and Vagel was going to make him howl-- Geraden had no way to find her, rescue her. Too many people might still be watching her, concealed behind spyholes, hidden in the corners--

Eremis would come back as soon as he finished with High King Festten.

She needed time to pull herself together.

Searching for calm, she decided to explore the room as far as the chain allowed. What else could she do? Maybe if she failed to find anything she would recover some self-possession.

Shaking badly, and too angry to care whether she looked foolish to a spectator, she moved to the staple holding her chain and from there started to grope her way toward the corner, searching the cold, crude stone with her fingers.

When her hand touched iron in the wall, she nearly flinched.

Iron: another staple.

A short chain fixed to the staple. A manacle.

A wrist in the fetter.

That did make her flinch. She recoiled to the bed, sat down facing the dark. Her breath came in hard gasps.

She had felt a wrist. Skin. A hand that flexed away from her touch.

Another prisoner. Someone was chained in the corner.

Eremis had intended to rape her before witnesses.

Who are you? she panted. For a moment, the words refused to come out of her throat. Almost gagging, she forced them.

"Who are you?"

No answer. Maybe because she was breathing so hard herself, she couldn't hear any sigh or rustle of life.

"Are you hurt?" That was another possibility. Who could tell what Eremis or Vagel or Gilbur--or Gart--might do to their enemies? If she hadn't felt skin and movement, she would have been tempted to imagine a skeleton. Or a corpse.

"Can you hear me?" She got off the bed and started along the wall again, slowly, slowly, trying to control her alarm with caution. "Are you all right?"

She found the staple, the short chain. The hand in the manacle tried to avoid her touch. Nevertheless she shifted from the fettered wrist to an arm. It was draped with loose cloth--the sleeve of a cloak? The fabric was rough and warm; worsted, perhaps.

She found a covered shoulder, a bare neck. The shoulder and neck twisted hard, but they couldn't get away; the other arm must be chained as well. Curse this dark. The prisoner was only a little taller than she was. Although she was near the limit of her own chain, she had no difficulty touching an unshaven face that strained away from her; terrified of her.

"Are you hurt?" she whispered. "Who are you?"

Roughly, he wrenched his head up and sucked a strangled breath through his teeth.

"All right. You've found me. They told me not to make a sound, not to let you know I'm here, but this isn't my fault."

His voice was familiar to her. His bitterness was familiar.

Nyle. Geraden's "murdered" brother.

For a moment, she was so glad to find him alive that she could hardly stand. So it was Underwell who had been killed, disfigured; Eremis' plotting was just as vile as she had believed it must be.

And Nyle was here; had been kept prisoner for how long now?--held in case he were ever needed again against his brother.
No matter how critically I may judge Nyle from earlier passages in the story, I have to pity him by this point. He's been threatened and brutalized to the point that he's terrified of Terisa touching and discovering him. It's hard to imagine him faring worse if he had stayed under Lebbick's control. His ever-present bitterness becomes even more understandable.
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"Oh, Nyle," she whispered in relief and quick nausea, "I'm so sorry. What have they done to you?"

"Same thing they're going to do to you." His bitterness was worse than anger; he had gone too far beyond hope. "A kind of rape. I'm just lucky Eremis still wants me alive. Gilbur likes what they call 'male meat', but he has a tendency to kill his toys, so Eremis makes him leave me alone. Most of the time.

"They need me to make sure Geraden doesn't do something unpredictable. Or King Joyse either, for that matter."

Oh, Nyle.

She couldn't stay on her feet. Nausea crowded all the relief out of her. Without thinking, she retreated to the bed, sat down again. For some reason, she wasn't trembling anymore. But she was going to be so sick-- If she let go, she was going to puke her heart out.

"It's the same reason they've got you." Now that Nyle had begun to talk, he seemed intent on continuing. "Only the details are different. We're hostages. And bait. We're here to make sure Geraden and King Joyse do what Eremis wants.

"I actually thought somebody would try to rescue me." His tone made her want to throw up. Gilbur liked male meat. "But I was wrong. Maybe they'll forget about you, too. That's your only hope now--that Eremis made a mistake bringing you here."

Fighting down bile, she forced herself to say, "Nobody in Orison knew you needed rescuing. Don't you know what they did? They killed that physician, Underwell. They let monsters eat his face"--don't think about it, don't think about it--"they dressed him up to look like you. Everybody thought yu were dead." Because it had to be said, she concluded, "They thought Geraden killed you. You accomplished that, anyway."

"I know all that." Nyle coughed thinly, as if he were too weak and beaten to curse. "They sent Gart and a couple of his Apts into the room to knock the guards and Underwell out. So there wouldn't be any noise. They translated me here. Then they sent some of their creatures to feed on the bodies. They told me all about it.

"Do you think that's what I wanted? Do you think I had a choice?"

No. It was cruel to accuse him, cruel, he had been Eremis' prisoner and Gilbur's for a long time now, and the decisions he had made which had put him here had all been based on King Joyse's policy of foolish passivity, it wasn't fair to include him in her anger. Nevertheless she said, "Everybody had a choice."

She had a choice, didn't she? She was chained to the wall in the dark, and Eremis intended to use her for his pleasure until her spirit broke, and there was no way she could possibly be rescued, and she still had a choice. Only dead people didn't make choices.
That last part seems a familiar theme in SRD works: despair can't take hold as long as the trying continues. However, Nyle isn't allowed to try anything as a chained prisoner, so Terisa's response to Nyle here seems to be unfair, so far.
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He coughed again, like a man whose lungs were full of dry rot. She could picture him in his fetters, with his mouth hanging open in his dirty beard and no strength. "You're wrong," he murmured when he was finished coughing. "You're like Elega. You don't know. I haven't had a choice about anything since Geraden hit me with that club."

Oh, great. Terisa barely swallowed a snarl. Now he was going to start blaming Geraden. Her stomach tried to come up; she had to force it down. She had already been harsher than she wanted to be. Instead of pursuing what Nyle said, she asked thickly, "Do you know where we are? Do you know this place?"

"All I wanted to do was save Orison and Mordant." Maybe he hadn't heard her. "You can't say I deserve this. You can think I was wrong, but you can't say I was being malicious. I wasn't going to get anything out of it for myself. Not even Elega-- Even if I was right, my family was still going to hate me. I was never going to be able to go home again. They all believed in King Joyse personally, not in the ideas that made him a good king--not in the Congery and Orison and Mordant. They were never going to forgive me for betraying their hero, even if everything I did turned out all right.

"I didn't do it for myself."

"Oh, Nyle," she breathed softly. "You don't understand. Of course they'll forgive you. They've already forgiven you."

But maybe he wasn't able to hear her. Maybe he had spent too much time helpless, caught in an everlasting reiteration of what he had done and why--and what it had cost--without any way to break out. Instead of reacting to what she said, he continued to explain himself.

Trying to justify himself against the dark.

"But Geraden destroyed me. I know that wasn't what he wanted, but he set me up for all this. When he came after me, instead of concentrating on Prince Kragen-- If he weren't so determined to have accidents--

"He got me locked up. Like an assassin. Like I was dangerous to all the decent people around me. If I were a farmer who went berserk and started slaughtering his friends and family with an axe, I would have been locked up, but I wouldn't have been sneered at. I wouldn't have been despised.

"Don't you understand? I love King Joyse, too. I always loved him, even though he didn't let me serve him--even though he didn't want me around. But some loves are more important than others. He wasn't interested in my loyalty--and that hurt, because he was so obviously interested in my brothers. Artagel. Geraden. But I could still love his victories, his ideals, his beliefs.

"What do you think I should have done?" For a moment, Nyle's voice brought a touch of passion into the dark. "Abandon everything that made Mordant valuable for the sake of a failing old man who didn't care whether I lived or died?

"Then Geraden stopped me, and they threw me in the dungeon. Do you know what that means?" A coughing fit came over him, draining him of intensity. "You should.

"It means I couldn't get away.

"Artagel came and flaunted his wounds at me. I couldn't get away. Castellan Lebbick practiced his obscenities on me for quite a while. I couldn't get away.

"And then Master Eremis came--"

"Nyle, stop." Terisa didn't want to hear it. She knew what was coming, and she didn't want to hear it. "This doesn't help. You're just tormenting yourself." All she wanted was some way to contain the horror surging at the back of her throat so that she could concentrate, bring her fury and her dread and her ache for blood back into focus. "Do you know where we are?"

"Just like that," Nyle went on as if she hadn't spoken. "He just walked into the dungeon. He just unlocked my cell and took me out. I couldn't get away." His tone was frayed at the edges, worn ragged by bitterness and fatigue and coughing, by anger that didn't have anywhere else to go. "He took me down the passage a little way, Then he made some kind of gesture, and we were translated here. Into his personal laborium. I couldn't get away from him.

"Do you know what he did to me?"

"Yes!" Fighting for a defense against pain, Terisa jumped to her feet. "I know." When she moved, her chain rang lightly against the wall. Quickly she caught the chain in her fist and swung it harder, made the stone clang. "I know what he did to you."

Of course, she didn't truly know: she hadn't suffered the same experience. But she knew enough--more than she could stomach. Fiercely, she rushed on:

"He showed you a mirror with Houseldon in the Image." She swung the chain. "And he showed you other mirrors." The iron links chimed on the wall. "Mirrors with firecats. Mirrors with corrupt wolves. Mirrors with avalanches--mirrors with ghouls." Each time, she swung the chain harder. "And he made you believe he could bring them all down on your home and family without any warning of any kind if you didn't do what he wanted. If you didn't help him turn the Congery against Geraden."

Panting, gasping, she stood still.

Nyle's silence was al the acknowledgement she needed.

"So you agreed because you thought you were saving most of the people you loved. And you figured somebody was bound to notice eventually that you weren't actually dead--which would save Geraden and recoil on Eremis. And somehow you managed to avoid the simple deduction that Eremis knew as much about the flaws in his plans as you did.

"Nyle, you made a choice. Geraden didn't do this to you. You did it to yourself."

There. Now she had begun attacking people who were manacled to walls, accusing them of bad logic as well as weak moral fiber. As if they caused the things their enemies did to them. What was she going to do next? Start beating up cripples?

And yet in her case she had no one to blame but herself for the fact that she had been so slow to distrust Master Eremis, so poor at opposing him.

Out of the dark, Nyle asked in old pain, "What choices did I have? What could I have done?"

Oh, shit. She forced her fingers to release the chain. "You could have refused."

"Weren't you listening to yourself?" He had some anger left in him after all. "If I did that, he would have destroyed Houseldon. He would have killed my whole family--everybody I grew up with--my home, all of it."

"No, Nyle," she sighed. By degrees, she wrestled down her nausea, her racing pulse, her desire to hurt something. He was going to be hurt badly enough already. She didn't need to increase the force of the blow. "You're the one who isn't listening. He destroyed Houseldon anyway. He burned it to the ground while Geraden and I were there, trying to kill us. Your cooperation didn't make any difference. You gave yourself away for nothing."

There. It was said.

Far away from her, Nyle groaned softly, as if she had just slipped a knife between his ribs--as if she had just cut down the defenses, the self-justifications, which kept him alive in his fetters.

She went to him, feeling at once as brutal as a child molester and as vulnerable as a molested child. "Nyle, I'm sorry." Trying to comfort him, she stroked his face. Her hand came back wet with tears. "We'll get out of here somehow. Sometime. I've talked to your whole family. I know they understand. They know you. They know you wouldn't betray Geraden unless you were trying to protect them. And it would have worked, if he hadn't escaped--if he and I hadn't gone to Houseldon."

Then, aching like a prayer that no one could overhear her, use what she was about to say against her, she put her mouth close to his ear and whispered, "They're safe, They all got away. They went to the Closed Fist and dug in. To defend themselves.

"Eremis doesn't know that."

Trembling at the risk she had taken, she stepped back to the bed and waited.

Nyle didn't react. She had no way of knowing whether or not he heard her. But she had done what she could for him. She had needs of her own to take into account. After a while, she returned to her first question--the only one of her questions which he might be in any condition to answer.

"Nyle, do you know where we are?"

After a moment, he took a shuddering breath; he seemed to be raising his head. "Esmerel, I guess. I don't know. I never saw this place until he brought me here--translated me. But he said it was Esmerel."

"Nyle"--the casual threat in Master Eremis' voice was unmistakable--"I told you not to speak to her."

Stung and urgent, almost panicking, Terisa whirled to face the Master.
I like that Terisa has mercy on Nyle and lets him know as quietly as she can that all his family and hometown neighbors are safe. It was risky, because she might have been overheard, but Nyle needed some comfort after all his torment. His biggest mistake, not realizing the duplicitous nature of Eremis, is understandable given that he probably never knew Eremis very well. But I concede this is merely speculation on my part. And I believe his explanation that he wasn't helping Kragen for any personal gain.
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Poor Nyle... :sob:
In Chapter 50 of [i]A Man Rides Through[/i] was wrote:There was a door in front of her, a wooden door banded and barred like the entrance to a cell. Her lamp was the only light in the room; her small flame sent shadows dancing across the ceiling, down the stone walls. Like every other part of the world, the room was chilly.

Immediately, she turned to look around, at the place where the bed and the window and the iron staples were supposed to be--at the place where Nyle was supposed to be--

The sight of him suspended there in his manacles filled her with such triumph that she nearly shouted.

Geraden, hurry, I did it, I did it!

She didn't realize she was losing her grip on the mirror in Orison until the details of Nyle's appearance struck her.

His face was chalky, not physically battered, but nonetheless haggard and abused. His eyes stared at her, dark pits from which the intelligence had been burned out. In spite of her sudden arrival, he slumped against his chains, unable to lift his weight off the manacles. Old blood crusted his wrists. A small caked pool marked the stone between his feet. Master Gilbur had strange tastes. Nyle looked like a man who had been used until the only part of him left alive was his sense of horror.

And that was the fate that Master Eremis had intended for her. He had planned to reduce her to that condition, in order to hurt both her and Geraden as much as possible.

"Oh, Nyle!"

No, concentrate, don't think about it! In swift fright, she flung her attention back to Adept Havelock's mirror room, back to the glass which had translated her here. Keep the Image. There was light in Nyle's prison now, she held the lamp up, Geraden could see the scene, he could copy it in a curved mirror--if he was fast, if he did it before Nyle's blank, dead stare made her start to weep and rage--

If he didn't end up somewhere else entirely--

Without warning, Artagel came through at a run.

Unable to anticipate the floor underfoot after the plunge of translation, he stumbled as if he were hurling himself at the door. His reflexes saved him from a collision, however. Recovering his balance almost immediately, he spun toward Terisa and Nyle. He had lost his grin in shock and surprise.

When he saw Nyle, he froze momentarily. The eagerness in him, the readiness for battle, seemed to shatter. Then he sprang past her and began trying to tear Nyle's fetters out of the wall with his bare hands.

Geraden was already there.

She didn't see him arrive, didn't see how he emerged from the translation; she only saw him throw himself at the cot as if he had gone mad. Coughing curses, he picked up the cot and crashed it against the wall, hammered and belabored it against the stone until the frame and legs broke into pieces the size of clubs.

With one of the legs, he went at Artagel and Nyle as if he meant to beat them both senseless.

Shouldering Artagel aside, he jammed the end of the leg into the nearest staple and levered it savagely out of the wall.

The iron staple sang like a sword as it skittered across the floor.

Nyle collapsed into Artagel's grasp.

Panting, "Bastards, bastards bastards," Geraden attacked the second staple. It let out a thin, metallic scream as it pulled loose.

He and Artagel hunched over Nyle. Clenched sounds came from between their teeth, as if both of them were weeping.

Terisa thought for a moment that Nyle was unconscious, too badly abused to understand what was happening. But then, in a voice made hoarse and ragged by howls, he croaked, "Geraden? Artagel? Is it really you?"

Fiercely, Geraden whispered, "We're here. We're here. Terisa brought us. As soon as you can stand, I'll translate you back to Orison."
The descriptions of Nyle as one who can only feel alive through horror, as one who can hardly believe anything else but horror is real, are convincing as a portrait of someone who has repeatedly been abused. No matter what else I may have wanted to criticize about him, he didn't deserve this fate anymore than Saddith deserved her fate. And this passage furthered my desire to see to see the enemies of Mordant struck down! Mordant's Need has produced a heightened emotional response in me because of scenes like this.
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This next part happens after Gart appears, Terisa throws the oil lantern at Gart, and Artagel engages Gart to give Terisa, Geraden, and Nyle time to get away.
Terisa was already at Geraden's side. "Come on," she gasped, "come on." With both hands, she heaved at him, trying to raise him to his feet..

Clutching Nyle, Geraden surged upright.

They staggered together; Geraden struggled to hold Nyle; Nyle fought to help himself. Still gripping the cot leg he had used as a lever, Geraden hauled his brother toward the door.

In the corridor, Artagel fought for his life.

Gart had recovered; he was beginning to return the attack. And the wildness of Artagel's first assault was useless for defense. As a result, the nature of their combat changed. He was forced to meet Gart's skill with his own, instead of with frenzy.

He was still hampered by the tightness in his side.

And Gart had already beaten him twice.

The corridor clanged with blow, swirled with sparks. Artagel barely prevented the Monomach from returning to the doorway.

"Come on," Terisa urged.

Geraden cast one white, urgent look at Artagel's back, then dragged Nyle in the opposing direction.

Terisa followed, pushing Geraden and Nyle to move faster.

Through the clamor of steel, they reached a corner.

As soon as they rounded it, the noise diminished.

They passed more doors: storerooms, cells, guards' quarters. Terisa thought they must be near the chamber where Master Eremis had his glassworks. Unless it was in the opposite direction. What was the "Image-room"? Where was it?

At the fourth door, Geraden stopped. He wrenched it open: a storeroom, apparently; bedding and pillows. More roughly than he intended, he thrust Nyle inside.

"Hide!" he hissed. "Let us do the fighting! All you have to do is stay hidden, so they can't threaten you."

Nyle gave his brother a look of dumb, helpless anguish. Then he stumbled into the dark, and Geraden jerked the door shut, catching it just in time to make it close softly.

Pale and extreme, he faced Terisa. "I hope to the stars," he panted "we know what we're doing."

She grabbed at his hand and drew him into a run again, on down the corridor.

Know what we're doing.

I want you to defeat Master Eremis.

Artagel wouldn't last much longer: she knew that. Yet she and Geraden were still alive because of him. And Eremis didn't know they were coming. Maybe King Joyse and Prince Kragen had already been crushed. But she had promised in her heart that she would kill Master Eremis. The men who had treated Nyle like that were going to die.
The men who had treated Nyle like that were going to die. Darn straight! :rant: Opposing the Imagers that work for Cadwal doesn't feel like just a national security issue, but also a moral crusade, considering all the gratuitous suffering Eremis, Gilbur, and Vagel inflict on helpless people like Nyle.
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Cord Hurn wrote:
"Oh, Nyle," she whispered in relief and quick nausea, "I'm so sorry. What have they done to you?"

"Same thing they're going to do to you." His bitterness was worse than anger; he had gone too far beyond hope. "A kind of rape. I'm just lucky Eremis still wants me alive. Gilbur likes what they call 'male meat', but he has a tendency to kill his toys, so Eremis makes him leave me alone. Most of the time.

"They need me to make sure Geraden doesn't do something unpredictable. Or King Joyse either, for that matter."

Oh, Nyle.

She couldn't stay on her feet. Nausea crowded all the relief out of her. Without thinking, she retreated to the bed, sat down again. For some reason, she wasn't trembling anymore. But she was going to be so sick-- If she let go, she was going to puke her heart out.

"It's the same reason they've got you." Now that Nyle had begun to talk, he seemed intent on continuing. "Only the details are different. We're hostages. And bait. We're here to make sure Geraden and King Joyse do what Eremis wants.

"I actually thought somebody would try to rescue me." His tone made her want to throw up. Gilbur liked male meat. "But I was wrong. Maybe they'll forget about you, too. That's your only hope now--that Eremis made a mistake bringing you here."

Fighting down bile, she forced herself to say, "Nobody in Orison knew you needed rescuing. Don't you know what they did? They killed that physician, Underwell. They let monsters eat his face"--don't think about it, don't think about it--"they dressed him up to look like you. Everybody thought yu were dead." Because it had to be said, she concluded, "They thought Geraden killed you. You accomplished that, anyway."

"I know all that." Nyle coughed thinly, as if he were too weak and beaten to curse. "They sent Gart and a couple of his Apts into the room to knock the guards and Underwell out. So there wouldn't be any noise. They translated me here. Then they sent some of their creatures to feed on the bodies. They told me all about it.

"Do you think that's what I wanted? Do you think I had a choice?"

No. It was cruel to accuse him, cruel, he had been Eremis' prisoner and Gilbur's for a long time now, and the decisions he had made which had put him here had all been based on King Joyse's policy of foolish passivity, it wasn't fair to include him in her anger. Nevertheless she said, "Everybody had a choice."

She had a choice, didn't she? She was chained to the wall in the dark, and Eremis intended to use her for his pleasure until her spirit broke, and there was no way she could possibly be rescued, and she still had a choice. Only dead people didn't make choices.
That last part seems a familiar theme in SRD works: despair can't take hold as long as the trying continues. However, Nyle isn't allowed to try anything as a chained prisoner, so Terisa's response to Nyle here seems to be unfair, so far.
This passage is interesting. If we were one of these two could we say what Terisa is saying here? Or would we be Nyle? You have to admit, what Terisa says is pure nonsense. Only heroines in stories could escape this hell. Terisa is the heroine of this tale and she has magical powers besides. But Nyle isn't. Instead, Nyle is a realist. He doesn't accept that he's living in a sort of fairy tale. It must be hard being a realist surrounded by legends like Joyce and his daughters, his father, Artagel and even irrepressible Geraden and Terisa.
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shadowbinding shoe wrote:This passage is interesting. If we were one of these two could we say what Terisa is saying here? Or would we be Nyle? You have to admit, what Terisa says is pure nonsense. Only heroines in stories could escape this hell. Terisa is the heroine of this tale and she has magical powers besides. But Nyle isn't. Instead, Nyle is a realist. He doesn't accept that he's living in a sort of fairy tale. It must be hard being a realist surrounded by legends like Joyce and his daughters, his father, Artagel and even irrepressible Geraden and Terisa.
I have to admit, shadowbinding shoe, that I would be Nyle, bitter and defeated in such a situation, and used to seeing no way out. This defeated attitude would be partly the result of habitually being such a mortal among demigods (even if two of those "demigods", those champions, happen to be his brothers) and a mortal easily dismissed (by Joyse) or manipulated (by other characters as varied as Elega, Kragen, and Eremis), at that. And of course, with the repeated rape and other abuse, I would likely be pessimistic, where the most I could hope for was that death could happen for me soon. Very bleak stuff. Nyle has had to give up on hope at this point.

And yes, as you say, I have to admit also that what Terisa says here is nonsense. I comprehend that she's scared of what Eremis is planning to do to her as soon as he finishes his report to High King Festten, and she's trying to distract herself from that. I also understand that Terisa feels ashamed for ever doubting Geraden and trusting Eremis, and so she will automatically defend Geraden and deflect blame from him when Nyle states he hasn't had a choice since Geraden knocked him out. But Nyle is right; he hasn't had any real choice since then. :cry: Yes, he's a realist.
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By the way, who is oldest and who is youngest among those three? Is it Nyle, then Terisa and finally Geraden?
A little knowledge is still better than no knowledge.
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We don't see Nyle again until the fight between Gart and Artagel gets to the point where Artagel's defeat looks certain. Image
In Chapter 51 of [i]A Man Rides Through[/i] was wrote:What a way to die. No, worse than that: what a way to be beaten. Artagel was a fighter; he had lived most of his life in the vicinity of death. For him, it was at once so familiar and so unimaginable that he couldn't be afraid of it. But to be beaten like this, utterly, miserably--

Oh, Geraden, forgive me.

If only, he thought dumbly, if only he hadn't been hurt the last time. If only he hadn't spent so much time in bed.

Terisa, forgive me.

But it was stupid to wish for things like that. Foolish regret: a waste of time and energy and life. Gart had beaten him the last time, too. And the time before that.

I will regret nothing.

He retreated down the passage, past more doors than he could count; stumbling barely on his feet. By bare will, he kept his sword up for Gart to play with.

If anybody thinks he can do better than this, let him try.

That was enough. As unsteady as a drunk, he stopped; he locked both hands around his wet swordhilt.

I will regret nothing.

Almost retching for air, he jerked forward and did his absolute best to split Gart's head open.

Negligently, Gart blocked the blow.

Artagel's eyes were full of blood: he couldn't see what happened. But he knew from the sound, the familiar echoing clang after his swing, and from the sudden shift of balance, that he had broken his sword.

One jagged half remained in his fists; the other rang away across the floor, singing metallically of failure.

"Now," Gart breathed like silk. "Now, you fool."

Involuntarily, Artagel went down on knee, as if he couldn't stay on his feet without an intact weapon.

The High King's Monomach raised his sword. Between streaks of Artagel's blood, the steel gleamed.

For some reason, a door behind Gart opened.

Nyle came into the passage.

He looked like Artagel felt: abused to the bone; exhausted beyond bearing. But he held the chains of his manacles clenched in his fists, and he swung the heavy rings on the end of the chains at Gart's head.

The instincts which had made Gart the High King's Monomach saved him. Warned by some visceral intuition, some impalpable tremor in the air, he wrenched himself aside and started turning.

The rings missed his head, came down on his left shoulder.

They hit him hard enough to strike that arm away from his sword. But he did most of his fighting one-handed anyway, despite his weapon's weight. While his left arm fell numb--maybe broken--his right was already in motion, bringing his blade around to sever Nyle's neck.

Nyle!

In that moment, a piece of time as quick and eternal as a translation, Artagel brought up the last strength from the bottom of his heart and lunged forward.

With his whole body, he drove his broken sword through the armhole of Gart's armor.

Then he and Nyle collapsed on Gart's corpse as if they had become kindred spirits at last.

He had the peculiar conviction that he needed to prevent Gart from risingup after death and shedding more blood. A long time seemed to pass before he recovered enough sanity to wonder whether Nyle was alive.
YES! Nyle gets to make a difference at last! 8)
Last edited by Cord Hurn on Sat Dec 31, 2016 2:55 am, edited 1 time in total.
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shadowbinding shoe wrote:By the way, who is oldest and who is youngest among those three? Is it Nyle, then Terisa and finally Geraden?
To the best of my memory, I think Nyle is around 26 or 27 years old, Geraden is 25 years old, and Terisa is 19 years old.
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Nyle gets to make a positive difference yet another time in the story, helping to save Geraden after Gilbur's defeat.
The wolves would have killed Geraden then. He was too shaken to defend himself, too deeply shocked. Artagel and Nyle arrived in time to save him, however. Artagel was exhausted, of course, hardly able to lift his arms; but he had Gart's sword, and it seemed to give himstrength. And Nyle swung his chains crazily, which made one or two of the wolves hesitate, giving Artagel the opportunity to dispatch them.

The three brothers hugged each other long and hard before they went to look for Terisa.
I think Nyle is willing to do such reckless things like crazily swinging his chains as targets such as Gart's head and the big wolves because he's been given a chance he'd never thought he would ever have again: to fight for the people that he loves.
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Cord Hurn wrote:
shadowbinding shoe wrote:By the way, who is oldest and who is youngest among those three? Is it Nyle, then Terisa and finally Geraden?
To the best of my memory, I think Nyle is around 26 or 27 years old, Geraden is 25 years old, and Terisa is 19 years old.
Really?! Terisa is that young? I was sure she was at least 23, more like 25. The way she's stuck in her 'meaningless' life in that skyscraper apartment it felt like years, not months. And her beauty is always described as womanly, not girly, in Mordant. Her cynicism might have added to this feeling but are you sure she's only 19?
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shadowbinding shoe wrote:
Cord Hurn wrote:
shadowbinding shoe wrote:By the way, who is oldest and who is youngest among those three? Is it Nyle, then Terisa and finally Geraden?
To the best of my memory, I think Nyle is around 26 or 27 years old, Geraden is 25 years old, and Terisa is 19 years old.
Really?! Terisa is that young? I was sure she was at least 23, more like 25. The way she's stuck in her 'meaningless' life in that skyscraper apartment it felt like years, not months. And her beauty is always described as womanly, not girly, in Mordant. Her cynicism might have added to this feeling but are you sure she's only 19?
I am not absolutely certain, and will have to do more research into this. As far as Geraden being 25 years old, I have these two passages for evidence:
In Chapter 4 of [i]The Mirror Of Her Dreams[/i] was wrote:Terisa considered him for a moment. "But you're still not going to answer my questions." Thanks to her years of training, her tone betrayed almost no bitterness.

With a wince, he replied, "No, I can't. You heard him. I think he's wrong, but that doesn't make any difference. I've been trying to become a Master since I was fifteen. I can't give it up." Again he said, "I'm sorry."
Later in this same chapter, after Geraden has introduced Terisa to Joyse and explained he didn't tell the Masters about Terisa's mirrors, we get another clue as to Geraden's age.
Geraden made an effort to look at the King squarely; but his discomfiture was too strong for him.

"Did you tell the Masters that she may be a Master herself?"

The Apt swallowed thickly, "No."

"Ah," King Joyse said mildly. "That explains it, then. Of course they let her go, thinking her to be just another one of your mishaps. But why didn't you tell them?"

A slow flush spread over Geraden's face. Muscles knotted in his forehead. His embarrassment was so acute that it nearly brought tears to Terisa's eyes. But he clamped his jaws shut and didn't answer.

"My boy, that may have been foolish." The King's hand still held Geraden's shoulder; his expression was kind. "You've been trying for--what is it now? ten years?--to become an Imager, a member of the Congery. How can you hope to succeed, if you risk angering the very men who control the knowledge, skill, and position that you crave?"
So, Geraden began as an Apt at age 15, and has been trying to become an Imager for 10 years. Geraden is 25 years old. Concerning Terisa's age, I haven't found any definitive evidence yet for why I think she's 19 years old. I have found this passage in TMOHD's chapter 1, however:
He wasn't reflected in the mirror: he was in the mirror. He was behind her startled image--and moving forward as if he were floundering through a torrent.

He was a young man, perhaps only a few years older than she was, and he wore a large brown jerkin, brown pants, and leather boots. His face was attractive, though his expression was foolish with surprise and hope.
Geraden at 25 years old is perhaps only a few years older than Terisa. This doesn't prove that she is 19 years old, but she certainly can't be as old as 25. Hopefully, I can find more proof for my belief that she's 19 sometime soon.
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Concerning the age of this thread's subject, I haven't found anything that says what Nyle's exact age is. I simply have found this from TMOHD chapter 19, in a passage that I have quoted earlier in this thread:
Unabashedly curious, Terisa studied Nyle. She would have known him as Geraden's brother anywhere. He had Geraden's hair and coloring, Geraden's build, only an inch less than Geraden's height.
It was clear that he took no joy in meeting Geraden.

Stiffly, he bowed to the two women. "My lady Elega." He and Elega didn't And he would have had Geraden's face, if his features hadn't been set for brooding instead of openheartedness. He looked like a disconcerted version of his younger brother, a man whose basically serious nature had curdled.
look at each other. "My lady Terisa. I'm glad to meet you"--Terisa heard no pleasure in his voice--"even though my brother hasn't bothered to introduce us."
Geraden is Nyle's younger brother, so I figure Nyle is 26 years old at the youngest.
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In Chapter 52 of [i]A Man Rides Through[/i] was wrote:Then Geraden and Artagel and Nyle entered the room.

Despite their obvious exhaustion, they had all come to fight for her. Artagel held his sword poised; Nyle swung his chains; Geraden's face was full of threats. They all came forward to fling themselves at Master Eremis. But when they saw that he wasn't moving, that he couldn't move, and she was unharmed, Geraden gave a shout of joy, Artagel blinked in happy astonishment, and Nyle dropped his chains.

Oh, Geraden. Oh, love. Mute with relief and constricted weeping, she hugged him and hugged him while Artagle thumped her back boisterously and Nyle shed quiet tears of his own.
Everything that happens now is just too good to be true for Nyle; to be rescued and having his brothers safe is more than he could have hoped for in all the time he was a tormented prisoner. That is why he sheds quiet tears in this scene, I think.
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