Synopsis
The Forelands are at war. The magic-wielding Qirsi and their Eandi masters have mobilized their forces. The Eandi have had to look beyond past differences to make alliances for the sake of the future, praying it isn’t too late for them to change the outcome of the war. Tavis, an Eandi prince who was framed for murdering the princess to whom he was pledged, and endured torture before winning his freedom, has at last avenged her death. Still, the murder and its aftermath have brought war to the Forelands just as the Qirsi conspirators who bought his love's blood had intended. Now Tavis and Grinsa, a Qirsi shaper with more powers than he reveals, who saved Tavis when nobody else would believe his innocence, venture across the Forelands, risking death to help save the land they love . . .
A powerful Qirsi weaver has brought this terrible war to the land, bending the minds of those he controls and of his enemies in an effort to forge alliances and mobilize forces to destroy the Eandi. His powerful magical ability estranges lovers, betrays leaders, and wreaks murder and death throughout the land. But even with his powerfully malign intelligence, he underestimates the mettle of his opponents. In a psychological duel with Grinsa, the Weaver’s formidable powers are sorely tested. Grinsa withstands the Weaver’s most powerful attacks at nearly the expense of his own life, and in the process discovers the Weaver’s identity.
Will Grinsa’s challenge to the Weaver spell the end of the Weaver’s reign of doom? Or has Grinsa’s discovery come too late to help the Eandi cause? The answers lie in the growing war that may sunder the Forelands forever.
"synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title.
About the Author
David B. Coe grew up just outside New York City, the youngest of four children. He attended Brown University as an undergraduate and later received a Ph.D. in history from Stanford. Coe is currently working on volume five of Winds of the Forelands, which began with Rules of Ascension, and continued with Seeds of Betrayal, and will conclude with Weavers of War. Coe is the winner of the William L. Crawford Award for Best First Fantasy or Fantasy Series, awarded at the International Conference on the Fantastic for the first two novels of his LonTobyn Chronicle trilogy. He lives in Sewanee, Tennessee.
Reviews
Magical conspiracies run rampant in book four of Coe's Winds of the Forelands series (Rules of Ascension, etc.). Young Tavis of Curgh, judged a traitor by his former friends thanks to the evil Qirsi mastermind known as the Weaver, has joined forces with the mysterious Qirsi shaper Grinsa jal Arriet in a desperate quest to uncover the Weaver's true identity. Meanwhile, the Weaver's agents skillfully manipulate the lords of the Forelands, splintering formerly stable alliances and stirring up distrust and civil unrest. Fearing treachery within his own ranks, the Weaver has ordered the spy Keziah to murder his former agent, Cresenne ja Terba, now Grinsa's lover. Little does the Weaver know, Keziah has already turned on him and joined others determined to defeat the Qirsi wizard. While those familiar with previous events will welcome the increasingly complex plot, new readers are likely to find themselves often referring to the volume's character list. Fans of Terry Goodkind's brand of fantasy intrigue will be pleased.
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In the fourth but obviously not final volume of the Winds of the Forelands, the war between the Eandi and the rebellious, magic-working Qine is rising to new heights. The Eandi prince Tavis is the focus of conflict here, and he suffers considerable anguish--physical by means of torture by his enemies, and mental over the fate of his beloved princess. The Qine are also unleashing a secret weapon, as it were: a powerful weaver who can affect and even destroy minds from vast distances. This all implies that nothing and nobody is going to be safe in the fifth book. If the series continues to maintain its present level of imaginative world building, superior characterization, and sound prose, that book too will be as welcome an addition to fantasy collections as this one is. Roland Green
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter One
Curtell, Braedon, year 880, Amon's Moon waning
What did it mean to be a god? Was it simply immortality that separated the great ones from those who lived on Elined's earth? Was it their power to bend others to their will, their ability to shape the future and remake the world as they desired? Did he not possess those powers as well? Had he not made himself a god?
Victory would soon be his, and with his triumph would a come a new world, one that he had foreseen, a world of his own making. Was that not the highest power? He could not cheat death---Bian would call him to his side eventually. But he would be remembered forever: the Weaver who toppled the Eandi courts and ruled the Forelands as its first Qirsi king. Was that not immortality?
In these last days before war and conquest and the attainment of all for which he had worked and hungered for so long, he found himself remembering a legend told to him by his father when he was no more than a boy, before anyone had thought to call him high chancellor, or Weaver, or king. It was a tale of four brothers, a story his father said had come from the Southlands, with the first Qirsi invaders, nearly nine centuries ago. He had heard it told since by Eandi living in the Forelands, as if the parable and its moral belonged to them. But he knew the truth.
According to the tale, the four brothers were soldiers who, as they wandered the land, came across a white stag that had been caught in a hunter's snare. The beast was more beautiful than any creature the four men had seen before. It stood taller than the greatest mounts of the southern plains, with a coat the color of cream, and ebony antlers as broad across as an eagle's wings. White stags were said to be enchanted, and they lived under the protection of royal decrees throughout all the kingdoms of the land. Those who dared hunt them not only invited ill fortune by slaying a magical creature, but also risked execution should they be caught.
Knowing this, the brothers freed the beast, cutting through the snare with their blades. When it was free, the stag bowed to them, and then spoke.
"You have given me my life, and so I will grant to each of you your heart's desire," the creature said. "You need only sleep tonight in this glade and await the first light of dawn."
The stag left them then, and the brothers bedded down in the glade.
In the middle of the night, the oldest of the four awoke to find a warrior standing before him in shining mail, bearing a sword that gleamed in the moonlight. "Come with me," the warrior said, "and I will make you the greatest swordsman in the land. No enemy will dare stand against you, and bards will sing of your prowess in battle."
Believing that the stag had made good on his promise, the first brother followed the warrior from the glade. Once beyond the last of the trees, however, the warrior vanished as if a spirit and the brother found that the trees would not part to allow him back into the glade.
Soon after, the second brother awoke to find an old man standing before him in the robes of a king. "Come with me," the man said, "and you shall rule all the land. Nobles will bow to you and swordsmen will follow you to war. All power shall be yours." Like his older brother before him, the second brother thought that this was what the stag had promised. He followed the man from the glade, only to find that the old king had been an apparition and the glade was now closed to him.
A woman came to the third brother, clad in lace, her silken, black hair falling to the small of her back, and her skin gleaming with starlight. She led him from the glade before dissolving into the night like one of Bian's wraiths.
The youngest of the four brothers awoke to find a child standing before him. It was a boy, though his hair was long and his face as fine-featured as that of a young girl. In his hands he held glittering gems and gold coins and pearls that seemed to glow from within. "There's more," he said, holding out his hands to the youngest brother. "Follow me and you'll have riches beyond your greatest imaginings."
"No," said the youngest brother. "The white stag told me I had only to await the dawn. And that is what I shall do."
The boy begged him to follow, but still the brother refused, and at last the boy left him there.
When morning came, the stag returned. "You have heeded my words and so earned the rewards you were promised." Then the boy returned, and with him the warrior, the old king, and the woman. The youngest brother became the greatest warrior the land had ever known, the people made him king, and the woman became his queen. Even his brothers knelt before him, knowing that he had succeeded where they failed. And for the rest of his days he enjoyed fame, power, wealth, and deepest happiness.
Dusaan had taken the lesson of this tale to heart years ago; he had awaited his own destiny with the patience of the youngest brother. And even as the time of his victory approached, even as the first spoils presented themselves to him---be it in the form of gold from the emperor's treasury, or the willing gaze of the underminister who would be his queen---he denied himself the pleasure of taking them as his own. He would in time. Qirsar knew he would. The woman in particular would be a prize to be savored. She had sworn that she would give all to his movement. And he knew that she would give all to him as well. He need only ask. She would bear him children. He had imagined others as his queen; he still did. Harel had several wives, and he was no more than a fat fool, an emperor whose grip on power was more tenuous than he could possibly know. If such a man could claim four women as his own, could not the first Qirsi ruler in the history of the Forelands do the same?
Soon. So very soon.
He could see it coming together, like some great quilted blanket spread over the Forelands. Civil war in Aneira, suspicion and murder in Sanbira, a divided kingdom in Eibithar. And in Braedon, an emperor who was so eager for war that he gladly embraced an uncertain ally in the Aneirans and planned as invasion against the Eibitharians that was doomed to fail. The noble courts of the Eandi were destroying themselves. Ean's children were strong of body, but their brawn was nothing next to the magical powers and subtlety of mind of Dusaan's people. The high chancellor had only to wait a bit longer and they would be too weak to stand against him.
Yes, they had a Weaver on their side as well. Grinsa jal Arriet. But he had weaknesses: a lover and a daughter he could not protect, and allies who so feared any Qirsi Weaver that they would sooner execute the man than allow him to wield his power on their behalf. Dusaan would have to deal cautiously with this other Weaver. He of all people knew better than to take him too lightly. But with care and a bit of good fortune, he might actually be able to use Grinsa to his advantage. There remained a good many Qirsi who had yet to pledge themselves to Dusaan's cause, men and women who would be outraged to learn that a Weaver---a Weaver!---had chosen to protect the Eandi courts rather than side with his own people in their struggle for freedom.
What kind of man cast his lot with nobles who would execute him and his child merely because of the magic he possessed? What kind of man betrayed his people even though he possessed power enough to lead them to victory? In choosing to fight with the Eandi, Grinsa made himself a traitor to all Qirsi, a modern-day Carthach to be vilified, to be used as a tool that would unite all people of the sorcerer race. Dusaan seemed a champion by comparison, a contrast that would serve him well when the time came.
So very soon. All he needed was to wait a short time longer, with the patience of the youngest brother.
Copyright © 2005 by David B. Coe
Curtell, Braedon, year 880, Amon's Moon waning
What did it mean to be a god? Was it simply immortality that separated the great ones from those who lived on Elined's earth? Was it their power to bend others to their will, their ability to shape the future and remake the world as they desired? Did he not possess those powers as well? Had he not made himself a god?
Victory would soon be his, and with his triumph would a come a new world, one that he had foreseen, a world of his own making. Was that not the highest power? He could not cheat death---Bian would call him to his side eventually. But he would be remembered forever: the Weaver who toppled the Eandi courts and ruled the Forelands as its first Qirsi king. Was that not immortality?
In these last days before war and conquest and the attainment of all for which he had worked and hungered for so long, he found himself remembering a legend told to him by his father when he was no more than a boy, before anyone had thought to call him high chancellor, or Weaver, or king. It was a tale of four brothers, a story his father said had come from the Southlands, with the first Qirsi invaders, nearly nine centuries ago. He had heard it told since by Eandi living in the Forelands, as if the parable and its moral belonged to them. But he knew the truth.
According to the tale, the four brothers were soldiers who, as they wandered the land, came across a white stag that had been caught in a hunter's snare. The beast was more beautiful than any creature the four men had seen before. It stood taller than the greatest mounts of the southern plains, with a coat the color of cream, and ebony antlers as broad across as an eagle's wings. White stags were said to be enchanted, and they lived under the protection of royal decrees throughout all the kingdoms of the land. Those who dared hunt them not only invited ill fortune by slaying a magical creature, but also risked execution should they be caught.
Knowing this, the brothers freed the beast, cutting through the snare with their blades. When it was free, the stag bowed to them, and then spoke.
"You have given me my life, and so I will grant to each of you your heart's desire," the creature said. "You need only sleep tonight in this glade and await the first light of dawn."
The stag left them then, and the brothers bedded down in the glade.
In the middle of the night, the oldest of the four awoke to find a warrior standing before him in shining mail, bearing a sword that gleamed in the moonlight. "Come with me," the warrior said, "and I will make you the greatest swordsman in the land. No enemy will dare stand against you, and bards will sing of your prowess in battle."
Believing that the stag had made good on his promise, the first brother followed the warrior from the glade. Once beyond the last of the trees, however, the warrior vanished as if a spirit and the brother found that the trees would not part to allow him back into the glade.
Soon after, the second brother awoke to find an old man standing before him in the robes of a king. "Come with me," the man said, "and you shall rule all the land. Nobles will bow to you and swordsmen will follow you to war. All power shall be yours." Like his older brother before him, the second brother thought that this was what the stag had promised. He followed the man from the glade, only to find that the old king had been an apparition and the glade was now closed to him.
A woman came to the third brother, clad in lace, her silken, black hair falling to the small of her back, and her skin gleaming with starlight. She led him from the glade before dissolving into the night like one of Bian's wraiths.
The youngest of the four brothers awoke to find a child standing before him. It was a boy, though his hair was long and his face as fine-featured as that of a young girl. In his hands he held glittering gems and gold coins and pearls that seemed to glow from within. "There's more," he said, holding out his hands to the youngest brother. "Follow me and you'll have riches beyond your greatest imaginings."
"No," said the youngest brother. "The white stag told me I had only to await the dawn. And that is what I shall do."
The boy begged him to follow, but still the brother refused, and at last the boy left him there.
When morning came, the stag returned. "You have heeded my words and so earned the rewards you were promised." Then the boy returned, and with him the warrior, the old king, and the woman. The youngest brother became the greatest warrior the land had ever known, the people made him king, and the woman became his queen. Even his brothers knelt before him, knowing that he had succeeded where they failed. And for the rest of his days he enjoyed fame, power, wealth, and deepest happiness.
Dusaan had taken the lesson of this tale to heart years ago; he had awaited his own destiny with the patience of the youngest brother. And even as the time of his victory approached, even as the first spoils presented themselves to him---be it in the form of gold from the emperor's treasury, or the willing gaze of the underminister who would be his queen---he denied himself the pleasure of taking them as his own. He would in time. Qirsar knew he would. The woman in particular would be a prize to be savored. She had sworn that she would give all to his movement. And he knew that she would give all to him as well. He need only ask. She would bear him children. He had imagined others as his queen; he still did. Harel had several wives, and he was no more than a fat fool, an emperor whose grip on power was more tenuous than he could possibly know. If such a man could claim four women as his own, could not the first Qirsi ruler in the history of the Forelands do the same?
Soon. So very soon.
He could see it coming together, like some great quilted blanket spread over the Forelands. Civil war in Aneira, suspicion and murder in Sanbira, a divided kingdom in Eibithar. And in Braedon, an emperor who was so eager for war that he gladly embraced an uncertain ally in the Aneirans and planned as invasion against the Eibitharians that was doomed to fail. The noble courts of the Eandi were destroying themselves. Ean's children were strong of body, but their brawn was nothing next to the magical powers and subtlety of mind of Dusaan's people. The high chancellor had only to wait a bit longer and they would be too weak to stand against him.
Yes, they had a Weaver on their side as well. Grinsa jal Arriet. But he had weaknesses: a lover and a daughter he could not protect, and allies who so feared any Qirsi Weaver that they would sooner execute the man than allow him to wield his power on their behalf. Dusaan would have to deal cautiously with this other Weaver. He of all people knew better than to take him too lightly. But with care and a bit of good fortune, he might actually be able to use Grinsa to his advantage. There remained a good many Qirsi who had yet to pledge themselves to Dusaan's cause, men and women who would be outraged to learn that a Weaver---a Weaver!---had chosen to protect the Eandi courts rather than side with his own people in their struggle for freedom.
What kind of man cast his lot with nobles who would execute him and his child merely because of the magic he possessed? What kind of man betrayed his people even though he possessed power enough to lead them to victory? In choosing to fight with the Eandi, Grinsa made himself a traitor to all Qirsi, a modern-day Carthach to be vilified, to be used as a tool that would unite all people of the sorcerer race. Dusaan seemed a champion by comparison, a contrast that would serve him well when the time came.
So very soon. All he needed was to wait a short time longer, with the patience of the youngest brother.
Copyright © 2005 by David B. Coe
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