Copyright 2005, 2008 by Patricia Bray. All rights reserved.
This synopsis is being posted as part of the Plot Synopsis Project. See my blog at pbray.livejournal.com/169118.html for information about this project, and links to entries posted by other authors.
Note the following contains the complete plot for THE FIRST BETRAYAL. If you want to avoid spoilers, use your browser's back button now.
1 City of Karystos founded
100 Wars of expansion begin
250 First Ikarian emperor crowned
272 Island merchants form trading alliance which evolves into Federation of Seddon (kingdom)
800 Vidrun invades Anamur, refugees flee to Ikaria
1000 Empress Constanza marries Aitor (newcomer)
1007 Empress Constanza gives birth to a son Constantios
1009 Empress Constanza dies, Aitor named Regent
1023 Prince Constantios dies, Aitor named Emperor
1024 Emperor Aitor marries Safiya (newcomer)
1024 Prince Aitor II born
1055 Emperor Aitor dies, Aitor II assumes throne
1085 Lucius is born, great-grand-nephew of Empress Constanza
1092 Aitor II dies, his only child Nerissa named Empress
1102 Empress Nerissa declares end to war with Vidrun
1105 Seddon Federation begins fostering dissent within Ikaria
1106 Dissidents move from talking about change to active rebellion, persuade Prince Lucius to join them
1107 Empress Nerissa puts down rebellion. Prince Lucius presumed dead, Lady Ysobel returns to Seddon in disgrace. The monk Josan is sent into exile to recover from his illness.
THE FIRST BETRAYAL
1112 Lady Ysobel is shipwrecked while returning to Karystos. She encounters the man who calls himself Brother Josan.
1113 An assassin tries to kill Josan, forcing him to flee his sanctuary. Lady Ysobel insinuates herself in the intrigues of the Ikarian court, seeking to stir up rebellion.
1114 After much wandering, Josan is persuaded to return to Karystos, where he learns of his strange origins. He takes his place as the leader of the rebels, working closely with Lady Ysobel. But his actions are part of a cunning plot, and he makes a deal with Empress Nerissa to turn over the leaders of the rebellion in exchange for his life. His plan succeeds, but Lady Ysobel escapes before she can be arrested.
[Deleted sections of timeline dealing with events in books two and three]
Prince Lucius. Spoiled, arrogant, immature, he sees only what he does not have, rather than what he does. His very existence is a threat to the reigning Empress, yet when she treats him with kindness he sees only condescension. Destined by his birth for a life in obscurity he longs for wealth and acclaim. He is easy prey for those who flatter him, and offer him a way to fulfill his ambitions.
Brother Nikos. The Learned Brethren exist throughout the civilized world, a scholarly order of monks who collect knowledge of all sorts, although they rarely share the secrets of their order. Emperor Aitor raised them to prominence in Ikaria, a position that they enjoy nowhere else. Nikos was a tutor to the royal family, and even tutored Prince Lucius, whom he found intelligent but sadly undisciplined. Most of his brother monks are content as scholars, true to their original calling, but Nikos knows he was destined for greater things. In Ikaria the Learned Brethren are not passive recorders of events. Instead he wields his influence from behind the scenes to change the course of history.
Lady Ysobel of Alcina (Seddon). Alcina is the largest of the islands that make up the Federation of Seddon, which owes its power and wealth to its vast merchant fleets, and the families that control them. Lady Ysobel is the heir to one such family, and as a young woman she is sent to Ikaria, as part of the diplomatic mission. Driven to prove herself she becomes involved in the plot to destabilize Ikaria through a popular revolt, only to find herself disgraced when the rebellion is crushed. But her earlier failure has taught her well, and when she next returns to Ikaria she is ready for whatever challenges she may face.
Brother Josan is one of the true monks of the Learned Brethren. Almost certainly a noble bastard, for he was left as an infant in the care of the brothers along with a bag of gold, he could have found no place that suited him more. Though only in his mid-twenties, he has already spent several years journeying, gathering knowledge of the stars, the winds and the ocean currents. His passion for learning consumes him, and he measures his riches in his contributions to the Collegium’s vast library. He respects Brother Nikos’s reputation as a scholar, but politics holds no interest for him.
Empress Nerissa— Dutiful, compassionate, wants only what is best for her subjects and is dismayed to find that some of them reject her merely because of her lineage. She brought an end to the war with Vidrun, but the populace resents the high taxes still required to pay for generations of conflict. She has a blind spot in her confidence in herself and her belief that no others could have ruled Ikaria so wisely and well as her family. This makes her unwilling to hear dissenting opinions or to acknowledge the very real threats to her rule. She was fond of the young Prince Lucius, and this fondness made her hesitate to condemn him, even when there was ample evidence showing that he had betrayed her. Forced to confront the fact that those she once trusted had betrayed her, Empress Nerissa now relies even more heavily on her inner circle of advisors, not realizing that her interests and theirs do not always coincide.
For centuries the empire of Ikaria has dominated the civilized world. From its beginnings as the humble city state of Karystos, its armies had fanned out along the western rim of the great sea, conquering one neighbor after another, bringing in wealth and new conscripts for the army to fuel the endless cycle of expansion. Ikarian ships had ruled the seas, controlling the most profitable shipping routes, and establishing trading colonies from one end of the great sea to the other.
Its only rival was the Federated Islands of Seddon, whose ships boldly sailed further and further from the established trading routes, seeking new lands and markets not already dominated by the Ikarians. Over the years Seddon and Ikaria fought over colonies, and their proxies engaged in vicious conflicts, but the rulers of Seddon were too cunning to attack Ikaria directly. For their part Ikaria dismissed Seddon as a nuisance rather than a threat.
But there are limits to even the greatest of empires, and Ikaria’s troubles began with a series of weak rulers who cared less about ruling the empire than they did about enjoying the wealth that it brought them. The fringes of the empire, sensing weakness, seized this opportunity to rebel and break free. Emperor Idaeus attempted to reverse this trend with a return to the days of conquest, but his target was poorly chosen. The ruler of Kazagan refused his offer to become a vassal state, and the sight of the imperial standards, once enough to terrify any enemy into submission, served only to enrage the people of Kazagan. For years a bloody campaign was waged, and though the Ikarians ultimately triumphed, the war had drained their treasury and eroded the sense that their armies were invincible.
While the Ikarian empire struggled with the aftermath of their so-called victory, trouble was brewing on the eastern edge of the great sea. Seeking to possess the legendary wealth of Anamur, the armies of Vidrun conquered the city. But Anamur’s true riches came from its artisans, and the most wealthy and skilled of these fled to Ikaria. There they were welcomed, and before long the refugees were once again crafting exquisite works of glass. With the Ikarian army to protect them, and Ikarian ships to transport their wares, the People of Glass, as the refugees were known, grew even more wealthy than they had been in Anamur. With wealth came power, and the desire to exert their influence within the empire they now called home.
As the People of Glass flourished, the fortunes of the old Ikarian noble families were in decline. Friction grew between the Ikarians and the refugees, but at the same time many an Ikarian noble saw the benefit of marrying one of their sons or daughters to one of the newcomers. This culminated in the marriage of Empress Constanza to Aitor Brencis.
Their marriage was hailed as an alliance between the two peoples, and it seemed blessed when after several years Constanza finally bore a child. But her health never recovered, and she died when her son was just an infant. By law Constanza’s sister Princess Callista should have become regent, but she was widely unpopular and so Aitor was named as regent for his son. He proved himself an able ruler, crushing the rebellions in the far-off provinces, and putting an end to the pirates who were preying on Ikarian vessels.
When the young prince died before reaching his majority, Aitor was named Emperor. Although there were those who held suspicions about the prince’s death, they knew better than to voice their thoughts aloud. Princess Callista, seeking to protect her own children, publicly supported the new emperor before retiring to live a quiet life on her country estates.
As emperor, Aitor turned his attention to the Empire of Vidrun. Here, he declared, was the true threat to Ikaria. Their old rivalry with Seddon was set aside, as Aitor sought to punish those who had conquered his ancestral homeland. Seddon, which lay far closer to Vidrun, entered into an alliance of convenience with Ikaria, content to let Ikaria spend its soldiers and treasure to try and keep the ambitions of Vidrun in check.
Under Aitor’s rule, much changed in Ikaria. The pure-blooded families found themselves declining in power and influence, as those that had formed alliances with the newcomers rose to prominence. Even the official religion changed, with the old worship of the three gods set aside. Imperial patronage was now given to worship of the twin gods, and the Learned Brethren were elevated from an obscure order of scholars into imperial advisors.
Aitor remained popular throughout his rule, even after he married one of his own people and began a new family. But his son, Aitor the Second, lacked his father’s vision. Blindly following the policy of antagonism towards Vidrun, he allowed Ikarian colonies to be overrun so he could focus his full attention on the threat in the east. By the time his daughter Nerissa assumes the imperial throne, Ikaria is once again in decline. With no new conquests to fuel the treasury, its citizens struggle with the taxes necessary to pay for the endless wars.
Empress Nerissa is slow to change the policies of her father, but in the tenth year of her reign she brings an end to the war with Vidrun. Her accomplishment is diminished by the crushing debt which remains, forcing her to keep taxes high. Conservative by nature, she believes that patience is the key to Ikaria’s recovery, and that the sacrifices in the present will bring future prosperity. Her advisors, who know that any true reform would jeopardize their own power and influence, are quick to praise her wisdom, and careful to ensure that the Empress does not hear of dissent.
But outside the marble palace, resentment is rising. Many blame the newcomers for the decline of Ikaria, especially since what wealth and power remains is firmly within their hands. Disenfranchised noble families and political radicals find a figurehead in Prince Lucius, the grandson of Princess Callista. His imperial lineage has granted him a courtesy title and a minor place in the court, but Lucius’s pride chafes at his lowly status. In his youthful arrogance he falls under the spell of those who tell him that he was born for greatness. Lucius is the true heir of the imperial throne, in his veins runs the blood of the great emperors of the past. The newcomers have not only stolen his birthright, they are destroying the empire with their selfish greed. It is up to Lucius to stop them. With the help of his newfound friends he will claim the imperial throne and restore Ikaria to its past glories.
Lucius falls in with their plans, and joins the rebellion. He does not realize that the rebellion is being funded by Seddon, which has used Ikaria’s preoccupation with Vidrun to its advantage, expanding its influence as it nibbled away at the fringes of the Ikarian empire. Now, seeing an opportunity to further destabilize Ikaria, Seddon lends gold and skilled assassins to the rebels. The ambassador from Seddon coordinates these efforts, assisted by his junior colleague Lady Ysobel of Alcina.
Lady Ysobel is a member of one of the seven high houses that dominate the Seddon Federation. Part extended families, part trading companies, the ruler of Seddon is elected from among the members of the high houses, and though he bears the title of king, he rules as the first among equals. Fiercely ambitious, Lady Ysobel is determined to prove herself, and to reverse the declining fortunes of her house.
In Seddon women have equal status with men, since they long ago recognized that a talent for growing wealth is far more important than one’s gender. But in Ikaria, with the exception of the reigning Empress, there are few women in positions of power. When Lady Ysobel arrives to join the Seddon diplomatic mission in Ikaria, her gender means that the Ikarians pay little attention to her, allowing her to insinuate herself into the intrigues of the Ikarian court. She is not impressed by Prince Lucius, whom she judges to be a dangerous mixture of arrogance and naiveté. But his backers are another matter, and with the proper encouragement they could plunge Ikaria into civil war.
Lucius is ignorant of the role that Seddon is playing in the rebellion. The members of the inner circle are swift to proclaim their allegiance to Lucius, but he is not allowed in their councils. He is told that this is for his protection, so he can deny knowledge of their deeds, but he becomes disillusioned as their strategy unfolds. Lucius had imagined himself at the head of a great army, nobly accepting the empress’s surrender. Instead this is a war of terror, targeting the newcomers and those families allied to them. It begins with arson and the kidnapping of the leading citizens for ransom. But soon it escalates into assassination, as first one ally of the Empress and then another is killed. Lucius rationalizes these as acts of war, the lawful killing of those who were traitors to the true Ikarian empire. But when an entire noble family is murdered, from the eldest down to infants in the arms of their nurses, Lucius protests. His allies assure him that the killings were not authorized, and that those involved have been punished.
But the killings do not stop. The common people, emboldened by the assassinations, take their wrath out upon the newcomers, justifying rape, murder and plunder in the name of cleansing the empire of foreign influences. Lucius is sickened by their actions, and as the cycle of violence escalates, he realizes that he is helpless to put an end to it. He is trapped by his own actions, as the rebels openly take up his name as a rallying cry, even as they refuse to pay heed to his words.
Too late he sees them for what they are, genocidal madmen who would destroy Ikaria in their single-minded quest to restore the old ways.
And now, at last, Empress Nerissa is forced to act. For too long she has dismissed the possibility that Prince Lucius was disloyal, remembering instead the young boy who had been a playmate to her sons. She had blamed the violence on a handful of madmen, but it has become clear that the rebellion is widespread, and that they intend to place Lucius on the throne. Now that she sees the danger, she is swift to act.
Lucius is not the only one to pay the price of his folly. His mother, who knew nothing of his ambitions, is dragged from her quiet life in the country to answer charges of treason. She commits suicide rather than face imperial justice. Lucius’s own life is forfeit, the empress having declared him a traitor. His former friends can not be trusted, and his small store of coins is rapidly dwindling. At least his mother had the courage to choose the manner of her own death, but he is not as brave.
In desperation he turns to his former tutor for help. Brother Nikos, now head of the Learned Brethren, hears Lucius’s unlikely tale. Lucius paints a picture of himself as a man ill-used, explaining that he had never urged the rebels to violence. And, in fact, the most reprehensible of their acts had occurred after he had repudiated his fellow conspirators. It is less a confession than the excuses of a spoiled child caught in mischief.
Sternly Nikos points out that the central charge is true. Lucius had joined in a conspiracy to overthrow the Empress. If he had abandoned the rebellion while they were still merely talking he might have been saved, but once it crossed the line into bloodshed his life was forfeit. Nikos will not endanger the Learned Brethren to shelter his former pupil, nor is there anywhere in Ikaria where Lucius can flee and be safe. He can offer Lucius nothing except the mercy of an easy death. He shows the prince to a room and gives him a night to consider his choices.
Nikos retires to his quarters and summons his closest confidante Brother Giles. The two men discuss how best to make use of the opportunity that Lucius represents. The young prince, wrapped up in his personal misery, had given little thought to who it was that he was asking for help. The Learned Brethren owed their prominence to Emperor Aitor and his descendants. They had not looked favorably on a rebellion that was likely to restore the old ways and the worship of the three gods. Turning Lucius over to the empress as a prisoner was considered, but eventually they decided that it was better for all that Lucius die quietly rather than risk his becoming a martyr.
Then Brother Giles mentions how strange it is that there are two men in this building who will not live past the next day. Lucius, condemned by his own actions. And Brother Josan, one of their most promising scholars, is in the infirmary dying of the breakbone fever. What at first seems a tragic waste now becomes an opportunity, as Brother Nikos recalls an old sorcery.
Prince Lucius was of no value to him—too arrogant to be controlled, and too foolish to survive among the schemes of the imperial court. But if there were another man, one both cunning and obedient who wore the body of a prince….
Brother Giles argues that such sorcery is immoral, but Nikos insists that it would be a far more grievous crime to let Josan and his knowledge die without trying to save him.
After a long night of making their preparations, in the morning they put their plans in motion. Lucius, who had spent his own sleepless night, accepts Nikos’s offer of a peaceful death. He accompanies him to the infirmary where he drinks a cup of drugged wine. Then Brother Giles cast the spell to take the memories and learning of Brother Josan, and transfer them to the mind of Prince Lucius. But the spell was only a partial success. Prince Lucius’s memories were gone, but so, too, was most of Josan’s learning. Faced with the failure of his plan, Nikos sends the man who thinks of himself as Josan to the remote island of Txomin, to live a life of obscurity.
With the disappearance of Prince Lucius, and armed with veiled hints from Brother Nikos as to the identity of the lead conspirators, Empress Nerissa crushes the rebellion. Those whose loyalty had never wavered are rewarded, and the empress uses this opportunity to consolidate even more power into the hands of her supporters. Her rule has been tested, but Nerissa emerges strengthened by the challenges she has faced, and confident that she has eliminated the threat to her rule.
Lady Ysobel returns to Seddon. Though some in Ikaria suspect that Seddon helped support the rebels, their prejudices blind them to the idea that a young noblewoman could have been involved in the conspiracy. However her own people know the truth, and she earns a share of the blame for the scheme. True the efforts to crush the rebellion have driven a wedge between Ikaria’s factions, but overall the venture is seen as having risked too much for too little reward. Ysobel will have to fight even harder now to prove herself.
As the first book opens, Brother Josan, as the man believes himself to be, is in the fifth year of his exile. Frail in mind and body when he had first arrived, the years have restored him to health and now he chafes at the life of a humble lighthouse keeper. The tedium of his existence is broken when a ship of the rival empire of Seddon comes to grief on the shoals that surround the island. Among the survivors is a noblewoman, Lady Ysobel of Alcina. She claims to recognize him from a previous visit to Ikaria, but Josan assures her that she is mistaken.
Lady Ysobel resumes her journey to Karystos. Her title is trade liaison, but her true role is to seek opportunities to destabilize the Ikarian empire. Five years ago, as a junior diplomat, she had hurriedly left Karystos, fearing that she would be among those implicated when the rebellion collapsed after the disappearance and presumed execution of Prince Lucius. Ambitious and fiercely patriotic, she has fought hard to prove herself, and has now been given this second chance.
In her first assignment she had merely been following the orders of others. Now she is the one responsible for crafting strategy, and deciding how they could gain the maximum advantage at the least cost to Seddon. She finds that there are many factions seeking power, but these factions despise each other almost as much as they loathe the empress. Prince Lucius had been the last direct descendant of the old imperial bloodline, and though there are claimants aplenty, there are none strong enough to unite the rest behind them. But since Lucius’s body was never publicly displayed, it might be possible to find an actor to play the part of the prince, now returning from exile. Then she remembers the monk that she had met after the shipwreck. He’d had the look of the old imperial family about him, and given the tendency of the Learned Brethren to take in boys of no lineage he might well be a bastard connection.
She discusses the possibility with her fellow conspirators, but they conclude that a monk was unlikely to commit treason no matter how much gold they offered. Instead she concentrates her efforts on gathering intelligence, and biding her time until the right opportunity arises.
When Josan thinks of the stranded noblewoman, it is with envy because by now she must be in Karystos, the center of civilization, while he is still trapped in this desolate place. By now he has realized that his exile is permanent and muses bitterly that it would have been better for all if he had died from the fever. Still his oaths compel him to serve, and despite his resentment he tends the lighthouse faithfully until the day a stranger arrives and attempts to kill him. A scholarly monk should be easy prey for an armed assassin, but Josan proves himself the superior fighter by killing his attacker.
Josan can think of no reason why someone should have tried to kill him. Nor is there anything in his fractured memories to explain when or why he had studied the art of combat. Violence goes against every precept of his order, and yet he had not hesitated to strike the killing blow.
He can not reconcile his actions with the man he knows himself to be. Neither can the villagers. They accuse Josan of being an impostor, and of having killed this man to protect his secret.
Unable to explain why the assassin attacked him, nor how he prevailed, Josan can not defend himself against their allegations. He flees the island before they can bring him to justice. His first thought is to return to the Learned Brethren, but the monks have made it plain that he is not welcome. He had assumed they had dismissed him because they thought his wits too feeble for him to rejoin their scholarly work, but now he wonders if they had another reason for sending him away. Did the gaps in his memory serve to conceal other crimes? Was he in fact a murderer, as the villagers claimed?
Unsettled, Josan wanders the northern fringes of the empire, posing as a common laborer. During this time he discovers other unexpected talents, including an uncanny sense that lets him know whether a stranger intends him good or ill. More than once these instincts save his life, as he is recognized and forced to flee ahead of those who would arrest him for murder.
He fears that he is going mad, as his mind presents him with images of the past that he can not reconcile with his own history. The harder he strives to make sense of them the more confused he grows. He slips into a strange state where days pass without his having any recollection of them.
Finally he reaches the town of Eluktiri where he finds a job in a livery stable. At first he is guarded, and careful to draw no attention to himself. But gradually he makes friends with Sergius, the owner of the livery stable. Sergius sees that Josan is more than the uneducated laborer he claims to be, and gradually draws out his story. He is puzzled that Josan has no interest in trying to solve the mysteries of his past, nor in finding out who sent the assassin after him.
Sergius does not know the true reasons for Josan’s reluctance to return to the capital. Since leaving the island, Josan’s nights are now haunted by dreams of violence, and he struggles with increasingly disjointed memories. And though he is careful to keep his talent for the One Magic hidden, there is no denying that this talent, like his knowledge of fighting skills, has no place in the life of the man he believes himself to be.
Josan refuses to face his past, but not everyone is willing to let him cling to his ignorance. One night he is drugged and kidnapped. Sergius, a former soldier, tracks him down and sets Josan free. Josan’s enemies have now found him twice, and Sergius argues that it is futile to try and hide when he doesn’t know why he is in danger. He convinces Josan that the answers to his questions lie in Karystos, and offers to accompany him on his journey there.
When they reach the capital, Sergius arranges for them to stay with a friend of his, an imperial magistrate. He explains that since there is a warrant for Josan’s arrest, this is the last place anyone would think to look for him. His reasoning is sound, but Josan wonders how it is that a former soldier is such close friends with a powerful magistrate. Late one night he overhears Sergius and the magistrate arguing about how best to make use of Prince Lucius, and as he listens he realizes that Sergius and the magistrate are members of the rebellion.
The overheard discussion terrifies Josan, awaking in him dim recollections of bloodshed and killing. He does not know what these men want with him, nor does he wait to find out. He flees to the safety of the collegium, hoping the brethren will be able to make the connection he suspects but can not elucidate. The doorkeeper does not recognize him, but is finally persuaded to fetch Brother Nikos.
Nikos is furious when he sees him, and in his anger calls him Lucius, Prince of Fools. It is a rare slip of his self-control, but the damage is done. His former pupil demands answers. Nikos hesitates, but finally relents when Josan threatens to seek his truths in the marketplace.
As he tells the story of that night five years before, when the fates of a scholar and a prince had become intertwined, Nikos carefully observes Josan’s reactions. Five years ago, the mind in Lucius’s body had been feeble and confused, barely capable of speech. The mind transfer had been deemed a failure. But the man who returned was in full command of his wits. He has the intellect of the scholar, and flashes of arrogance that can only have come from Prince Lucius.
Nikos explains that Josan, as the man insists on being called, could have picked no worse time for his return. The rebellion, which had gone underground since Prince Lucius’s presumed death, was now active again. Daily the violence in the capital had grown worse, as the rebels targeted any seen as friendly to the imperial family. If the prince were to be recognized, the city would erupt into open warfare. Those who were loyal to the old ways, those that resented the wealth and influence of the newcomers, would seize the chance to try and put one of their own on the throne.
It did not matter that Lucius had no interest in becoming emperor. The rebellion did not need a willing figurehead. And a dead martyr would serve them equally as well.
Brother Nikos urges Josan to leave the capital. He offers to arrange passage to Xandropol, where the brethren have a small collegium where Lucius can take refuge. By his very existence Lucius places the brethren in jeopardy, and Nikos is anxious to avoid being placed in a compromising position.
But Josan, as he still thinks of himself, refuses. Intellectually he realizes that he wears the body of a noble prince, but his heart is that of a peaceful monk. He shares responsibility for the killings that were done in his name, and he is willing to give his life to put an end to them.
Brother Nikos argues against this plan, but is unable to sway him. The loyalty that Josan feeels towards the leader of his order is tempered by the knowledge of what Nikos had done to him, and how he had kept the truth from Josan for these long years.
Josan returns to Sergius and the magistrate, and informs them that it is time to end the deception, and for him to rejoin their cause. He tells them that he has known of his true identity for months, but kept silent because he was uncertain of Sergius’s loyalties.
Sergius is suspicious, but indeed the return to the capital has served to awaken many of Josan’s long buried memories. Now, finally, Josan understands the source of his confusion, for he has the memories of two very different lives. It was as if he had been trying to reassemble a shattered statue out of mismatched pieces, making one figure where there should have been two.
He remembers the anger of a young prince, who chafed at the fate that had made him an obscure member of the imperial court. Lucius was a direct descendant of the old imperial family, while the empress was the descendant of the newcomers who had usurped the imperial throne a hundred years before. It had been easy to blame the newcomers for Ikaria’s loss of power and prestige, and to cast envious eyes at the imperial family who held the wealth and power that Lucius felt was his rightful due.
The prince had been an impetuous fool, but Josan is older and wiser, and has the accumulated wisdom of the brethren to guide his plans. He knows better than to trust anyone, for all of those he had counted as friends had betrayed him in one way or another. Sergius had known the secret of his identity for months, and yet had spoken not a word as he led Josan to the place where his life would be most at risk. And Brother Nikos had failed him as well, for by concealing Josan’s true identity, he had made possible the events that had led Josan back to the capital.
Though Josan views his magic talent as no more than a carnival trick, he uses it to impress the members of the rebellion, as proof that he is indeed of the old blood. As he insinuates himself into the heart of the rebellion, he realizes that it is not a unified force but rather it is a loose alliance of competing factions. There is no central head, no means to issue orders and be certain that all would obey. Some members of the rebellion view the prince as a traitor for having seemingly abandoned them six years before, which explains why the one sent to investigate reports that Lucius was on Txomin’s island had tried to assassinate him, rather than following his orders to bring the prince back for questioning.
The rival empire of Seddon has a part to play as well, for through its embassy and Lady Ysobel, they are once again providing much of the funding to support the rebels. When Lady Ysobel encounters Lucius she is quick to recognize him as the so-called monk she had met months before. But her failure to recognize him earlier is understandable. Gone are all traces of the young prince, who had been a naïve and impetuous fool. The years of his exile have transformed Prince Lucius into a worthy weapon, and the complicity of the Learned Brethren in protecting him show that he has a talent for unexpected alliances. She knows there is little possibility that he will succeed, but that does not matter. If he is able to attract enough followers to his cause he will throw Ikaria into chaos, and with Ikaria occupied in internal strife, Seddon will be able to expand its trading empire unopposed.
Josan realizes that his original plan to take control of the rebels and redirect their efforts is not feasible. At best he can serve as a figurehead, but he has no real power. Desperate to stop the cycle of violence, Josan gets the faction leaders to agree to meet, promising to reveal the key to overthrowing the empress. Instead, as the meeting begins, the imperial guard arrives and arrests the conspirators.
Lady Ysobel is not among those arrested. Having been warned by her own spies among the imperial guard, she flees on a ship bound for Seddon. She is bitter with the knowledge of failure, and knows that the ambassador will swiftly repudiate her actions. Returning to Seddon in disgrace, she will be lucky to escape with her life. This is the second time she has failed, and there will be no mercy for her. The king might well decide the risk of open warfare with Ikaria is too great, and execute her to appease his presumed ally.
Back in Karystos the arrest of their leaders has broken the back of the rebellion. Josan had struck a bargain with the empress, agreeing to turn over the rebel leaders to her in return for his life. He needed to appear anxious for her favor in order for his plan to work, but he had never expected that she would indeed keep her bargain. To his surprise she does, and offers him a full imperial pardon.
He asks that he be allowed to go into exile in Xandropol, there to pursue the scholar’s life that the part of him that is Josan still desperately wants. But the empress refuses. She insists that he remain in the capital, where all can witness his public support for the empress and the imperial family. And, where her spies can watch his every move, ensuring that he remains loyal.
Josan is torn. He has hated these last few months, appalled at how easily he had slipped into a life of lies and deceptions. Staying in the capital means that he will be prisoner to Prince Lucius, and to the role he had been forced to play. At times that role had threatened to consume him, submerging all traces of Josan’s personality under the mask of the prince. He fears that the longer he stays in Karystos, the harder it will be to separate his true self from the role that has been forced upon him.
The irony is that the arrogant Prince Lucius might well have agreed to the Empress’s demands, and then done his best to flee. But Josan is a man of honor. When he swears an oath he is bound by it. The crimes may be Lucius’s, but Josan is the one who must pay for them both. Reluctantly he gives his word, knowing that this is the price he must pay for having cheated death at the expense of another. And in time he hopes the two halves of himself will learn to make peace with one another, and come to terms with their shared fate.
Copyright 2005,2008 by Patricia Bray. All rights reserved.