The Skilthorn Congress: Book Four of The Shattered Moon
Lands and lives in question
When a young fugitive, Mavrys, comes to Skilthorn seeking sanctuary, it’s a complication the newly-ennobled Countess Jerya could well do without. She’s already challenging assumptions and managing radical changes to the great estate, and now Skilthorn is about to play host to an unprecedented meeting between leaders from the Sung Lands and the Five Principalities.
Jerya’s oldest friend, Railu, also glimpses the prospect of a new beginning; but is Skelber all that he seems? And can Mavrys stay out of trouble?
The future of the Known Lands may be in play, but for some of the people at Skilthorn it’s their own lives which are thrown into question.
Lands and lives in question
When a young fugitive, Mavrys, comes to Skilthorn seeking sanctuary, it’s a complication the newly-ennobled Countess Jerya could well do without. She’s already challenging assumptions and managing radical changes to the great estate, and now Skilthorn is about to play host to an unprecedented meeting between leaders from the Sung Lands and the Five Principalities.
Jerya’s oldest friend, Railu, also glimpses the prospect of a new beginning; but is Skelber all that he seems? And can Mavrys stay out of trouble?
The future of the Known Lands may be in play, but for some of the people at Skilthorn it’s their own lives which are thrown into question.
A Brief Sample
After a few days she began to forget she had been Irmavel. She woke, usually to Vireddi banging on her door, dressed hastily, and followed her friend downstairs. Depending which queue was longer, they would go first to be shaved or to the breakfast counter.
To her, the food still seemed plain, though wholesome enough, but she continued to hear frequent expressions of pleasure. Just how bad, she wondered, had it really been before?
Conversations might be conducted in Plain, or in Patter, or in a mix. Sometimes one person would parl and the other reply in Plain; sometimes the same person would mingle the two in the same speech, even in the same sentence, to the extent that Mav began to wonder if they even saw a clear distinction between the two dialects at all.
At first it was confusing, but by and by she began to find it freeing. She tried to keep learning, to parl as much as possible; but this in itself became easier when you knew you could always drop in a Plain word or two when you were stuck.
While most words in Patter were recognisably derived from Plain, though truncated or warped or shifted in meaning, there were some she found more mysterious, like the numerals she recited to herself as she worked, until she knew them backwards: yann, tann, tetha, metha, pym, setha, letha, hotha, dotha, dyz, and so on. You had to be careful because 'tann', particularly in a broad Wolden accent, sounded a lot like 'ten', but you could nearly always tell from context which the speaker meant.
Vireddi took great delight in being her tutor. My governess, thought Mav, scarcely able to credit that she had occasionally fretted about the social stigma of being a gentleman's daughter who had no governess. As a young girl she had been schooled two days a week with the daughter of a neighbouring estate, by their governess; later, her mother had taken on the role herself—when she could prise Mav away from the stables. Vireddi, to Mav's eyes now, was a better teacher than either, patient and kind, and above all delighted by the responsibility. Perhaps responsibility was a new feeling for her; for sure she took it seriously.
And perhaps, she thought now, she just likes me.
After a few days she began to forget she had been Irmavel. She woke, usually to Vireddi banging on her door, dressed hastily, and followed her friend downstairs. Depending which queue was longer, they would go first to be shaved or to the breakfast counter.
To her, the food still seemed plain, though wholesome enough, but she continued to hear frequent expressions of pleasure. Just how bad, she wondered, had it really been before?
Conversations might be conducted in Plain, or in Patter, or in a mix. Sometimes one person would parl and the other reply in Plain; sometimes the same person would mingle the two in the same speech, even in the same sentence, to the extent that Mav began to wonder if they even saw a clear distinction between the two dialects at all.
At first it was confusing, but by and by she began to find it freeing. She tried to keep learning, to parl as much as possible; but this in itself became easier when you knew you could always drop in a Plain word or two when you were stuck.
While most words in Patter were recognisably derived from Plain, though truncated or warped or shifted in meaning, there were some she found more mysterious, like the numerals she recited to herself as she worked, until she knew them backwards: yann, tann, tetha, metha, pym, setha, letha, hotha, dotha, dyz, and so on. You had to be careful because 'tann', particularly in a broad Wolden accent, sounded a lot like 'ten', but you could nearly always tell from context which the speaker meant.
Vireddi took great delight in being her tutor. My governess, thought Mav, scarcely able to credit that she had occasionally fretted about the social stigma of being a gentleman's daughter who had no governess. As a young girl she had been schooled two days a week with the daughter of a neighbouring estate, by their governess; later, her mother had taken on the role herself—when she could prise Mav away from the stables. Vireddi, to Mav's eyes now, was a better teacher than either, patient and kind, and above all delighted by the responsibility. Perhaps responsibility was a new feeling for her; for sure she took it seriously.
And perhaps, she thought now, she just likes me.
