Michelle West - The Sun Sword 1 - The Broken Crown

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The Broken Crown.htm

======================

Notes:

Scanned by JASC

If you correct any minor errors, please change the version number below (and in the file

name) to a slightly higher one e.g. from .9 to .95 or if major revisions, to v. 1.0/2.0 etc.

Current e-book version is .9 (most formatting errors have been corrected—but OCR

errors still occur in the text, especially the first word in every chapter. Semi proofed; still

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Comments, Questions, Requests (no promises): daytonascan4911@hotmail.com

Notes: The rest of the saga (5 more books) will soon be scanned.

DO NOT READ THIS BOOK OF YOU DO NOT OWN/POSSES THE PHYSICAL

COPY. THAT IS STEALING FROM THE AUTHOR.

--------------------------------------------

Book Information:

Genre: Epic Fantasy

Author: Michelle West

Name: The Broken Crown

Series: The Sun Sword saga 1

===============================

The Broken Crown

Book one of the Sun Sword saga

By Michelle West

NAME LIST

DOMINION Of ANNAGAR

dSert’of ‘SdkRdws

Annagarian Ranks

Tyr’agar Ruler of the Dominion

Tyr’agnate Ruler of one of the five Terreans of the

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Dominion

Tyr The Tyr’agar or one of the four Tyr’agnate

Tyran Personal bodyguard (oathguard) of a Tyr

Tor’agar A noble in service to a Tyr Tor’agnate A noble in service to a Tor’agar; least of noble

ranks

Tor A Tor’agar or Tor’agnate

Toran Personal bodyguard (oathguard) of a Tor

Ser A clansman

Serra The primary wife and legitimate daughters of a clansman

kai The holder or first in line to the clan title

par The brother of the first in line; the direct son of the title holder

Dramatis Personae

ESSALIEYAN

AVANTARI (The Palace) The Royals

King Reymalyn: the Justice-born King King Cormalyn: the Wisdom-born King Queen Marieyan

(an’Cormalyn) Queen Siodonay The Fair (an ‘Reymalyn) Prince Reymar: son of the Queen

Siodonay & Reymaris Prince Cormar: son of the Queen Mareiyan & Cormaris Princess Mirialyn

ACormaris: daughter of Queen Marieyan & King Cormalyn

The Non-Royals

Duvari: the Lord of the Compact; leader of the Astari Devon ATerafin: member of the Astari and

of House

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Terafin Commander Sivari: former King’s Champion (at the

Summer Games)

The Hostages

Ser Valedan kai di’Leonne (Raverra): the heir to the Sword of The Dominion

Serra Marlena en’Leonne: Valedan’s mother; born a slave; granted honorific “Serra” because her

son has been recognized and claimed as legitimate

Ser Fillipo par di’Callesta (Averda): brother to the

Tyr’agnate of Averda Serra Tara di’Callesta: his Serra Michaele di’Callesta: oldest son

Frederick di’Callesta: youngest son Andrea en ‘Callesta: his concubine

Ser Kyro di’Lorenza (Sorgassa): the oldest of the hostages Serra Helena di’Lorenza: the only

wife he has; he has taken no others Ser Gregori di’Lorenza: his son

Ser Mauro di ‘Garradi (Oerta) Serra Alina di’Lamberto (Mancorvo)

Imperial Army

The Eagle: Commander Bruce Allen. Commands the

First Army The Hawk: Commander Berrilya. Commands the

Second Army The Kestrel: Commander Kalakar. Commands the

Third Army & the Ospreys

THE TEN:

Kalakar

Ellora: The Kalakar.

Verms Korama: her closest friend and counselor

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Verrus Vernon Loris: friend and counselor

The Ospreys:

Primus Duarte: leader

Alexis (Sentrus or Decarus)

Auralis (Sentrus or Decarus)

Fiara (Sentrus)

Cook (Sentrus)

Sanderson (Decarus)

Berriliya

Devran: The Berriliya

Terafin

Amarais: The Terafin Morretz: her Domicis Jewel ATerafin: part of her House council; also seer-

born Avandar: Jewel’s Domicis

THE ORDER OF KNOWLEDGE

Meralonne APhaniel: Member of the Council of the

Magi; first circle mage Sigurne Mellifas: Member of the Council of the Magi; first circle mage

SENNIEL COLLEGE

Solran Marten: Bardmaster of Senniel College Kallandras: Master Bard of Senniel

ANNAGAR

The Tor Leonne

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General Alesso par di’Marente - par to Corano; General to the former Tyr

General Baredan kai di ‘Navarre: General to the former Tyr; loyal to Leonne.

Widan Cortano di’Alexes: the Sword’s Edge

Lord Isladar of the kin: the link between the Shining Court and the Dominion

THE CLANS

Callesta

Ramiro kai di’Callesta: the Tyr

Karro di Callesta: Tyran; half-brother (concubine’s son); the oldest of the Tyran Mikko di

Callesta: Tyran; half-brother (concubine’s son)

Garrardi Eduardo kai di’Garrardi: the Tyr’agnate of the Terrean of Oerta

Lamberto

Mareo kai di’Lamberto: the Tyr’agnate of Mancorvo Serra Donna en’Lamberto: his Serra Galen

kai di’Lamberto: the kai (former par)

Leonne

Markaso kai di’Leonne: the Tyr’agar

Serra Amanita en’Leonne: the Tyr’agar’s Serra

Illara kai di’Leonne: the heir

Serra Diora en’Leonne: also Serra Diora di’Marano

Ser Illara’s concubines:

Faida en’Leonne: Oathwife to Diora Ruatha en ‘Leonne: Oathwife to Diora Dierdre en’Leonne:

Oathwife to Diora

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Lorenza

Jarrani kai dVLorenza: the Tyr’agnate of Sorgassa Hectore kai di’Lorenza: the kai

Marano

Adano kai di’Marano: Tor’agar to Mareo kai di’Lamberto

Sendari par di ‘Marano: his brother; Widan

Serra Fiona en’Marano: Sendari’s wife

Ser Artano: Sendari’s oldest son

Serra Diora di’Marano: Sendari’s only child by his first wife Sendari’s concubines:

Alana en’Marano: the oldest of Sendari’s wives

lllana en ‘Marano

Mia en’Marano

Lissa en ‘Marano: given to the healer-born Serra Teresa di’Marano: sister to Adano and Sendari

Caveras

Ser Laonis di’Caveras: healer-born; his wife is Lissa en’Caveras.

THE RAD ANN

Radann Fredero kai el’Sol: the ruler of the Radann

Jevri el’Sol: his loyal servitor

Radann Samiel par el’Sol: youngest of the Hand of God

Radann Peder par el’Sol

Marakas par el’Sol: contemporary of Fredero

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Samadar par el’Sol: the oldest of the par el’Sol

THE VOYANI

Arkosa

Evallen of the Arkosa Voyani: the woman who ruled the

Voyani clan Margret of the Arkosa Voyani: her chosen “heir”

Havalla

Yollana of the Havalla Voyani: ruler of the clan

BIRTH

I: ASKEYIA

th ofHenden, 411AA Averalaan, the Common

Children were always the worst.

Five years spent cramping knees at the feet of Levee, the most notorious healer on the isle of

Averalaan Ara-marelas, had drilled into Askeyia a’Narin the fundamental lessons about how to

be a healer in the Real World. But although she could now walk past crippled men, injured

women, people in pain so great that they hid it behind enough ale to flood a river, she found it

hard to bypass the children.

So she did what many of the healer-born did when they went about their errands in the city

outside of their walls: she dressed like one of the poorer merchants, and she kept the medallion

which proclaimed her birthright—the talent with which she’d been born—hidden. It meant that

the needy had to actually know who she was before they could approach her with their tales of

woe.

It was so hard to say no. It was still hard. She wondered, as she pulled the edges of her woven

shawl more tightly around her shoulders, if she would ever find it easy. Levee had perfected such

a look of temper that people were afraid to speak to him—and he was the only healer who wore

his medallion openly no matter where he traveled.

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Of course, Levee also had a single brow that crossed his forehead in a dark unbroken line, and his

temper suited the perpetual frown he wore; had she been injured, with nowhere to turn, she’d

probably have to be paid to approach the taciturn healer.

Askeyia a’Narin had no such brow. She had no height to speak of, although she had so hoped that

she would take after her father’s family and grow all tall and willowy by the time she’d reached

her name age. It hadn’t happened; she’d slimmed down a little—hard work and a poor harvest

always had that effect—but she’d only gained an inch on her mother, and her mother was, to put

it politely, short.

She’d tried different hairstyles, something suitably severe, but they made her chin look chubby,

and she had, although Mother knew it was childish, her vanity. She also had an uncanny ability to

be recognized for what she was, although how or why she couldn’t say.

Heal one of them, Levee would say sternly, and they’ll follow you around like rats for the rest of

your life, gnawing at your strength when you can least afford to

lose it.

You think you can save the world because you’re young. You can’t. And if you let the pain of the

world drag you in, you’ll find the undertow is too strong; you’ll be swept away by it, and all of

the good you could have done in a long life of healing will be lost.

There are always dying men. Dying women. Dying children. They need and will always need. But

you don’t owe them your life, is that clear? If you were meant to live‘ their lives, you’d have been

born them. You weren’t. Those people with broken ribs or infections or illnesses— they don’t

care who you are; they reach for you blindly, the same way they reach for a drink. They’ll drain

you as dry, if you give them half a chance. You can’t afford to be swallowed by those needs.

Askeyia, are you listening?

She had nodded politely, thinking that Dantallon was a healer without compare, but a gentle man,

a quiet one. Most of the healer’s students felt that way, but they’d long since refrained from

pointing him out as a counterexample. She’d tried it, once.

Of course, he’s gentle, had been his reply. He’s the Queen’s own healer. A commoner with a cold

comes near him and the Kings’ personal guard will make the matter of a healing entirely moot.

You, on the other hand, are far too approachable. I tell you, Askeyia, you’re the softest free

towner I’ve ever met.

Words meant to sting, and they did.

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Because he was right, and she hated it.

As proof of this, as proof that his words held both sting and truth—as if words with no truth

could sting at all— she looked up from her reverie and saw a woman standing in the cobbled

streets of the Common. The bowers of the Rings—the ancient stands of trees that were famous

throughout the Empire—caught the height of the midday sun and made of it shadow, short and

dark, that pooled around the woman’s feet. Her eyes were wide, her skin unnaturally pale, and the

collar that framed her neck was worn to threads; Levee’s second youngest healer thought that the

shift she wore had once been a deep blue by the edge of color near seams that were splitting with

age; it was pale now, whatever its color had once been.

Askeyia started to lower her face again—she found it easier to walk through the Common with

her eyes cast groundward—but she stopped as she saw that the woman’s arms were rigidly

curved on either side of a bundle of cloth. A still bundle.

People were always in a hurry in the Common; they glared at the woman as they shoved their

way past her, flowing to either side like a sluggish river. The woman swayed as shoulders and

elbows brushed her to either side, but she stayed her ground as if rooted to it. Raising her glance

from the bundle to the woman’s face, Askeyia made her first mistake: she met the eyes, dark-

ringed, horrified.

You couldn’t meet eyes like that and turn away. You couldn’t do it; you’d have to leave shreds of

soul behind just to tear yourself free.

Swallowing, she glanced over her shoulder once, but there were no other healers in sight; Jonas

had run ahead, and Mercy—Aristide, really, but everyone called him Mercy, for reasons which

were clearly lost on Askeyia— had disappeared into a stall full of people with too many elbows

for Askeyia’s less prepossessing size. Neither one could see her, and what they couldn’t see, they

couldn’t report.

Besides, it wasn’t as if she was going to heal the babe. She was just—she was just going to see if

the babe needed help. That was all. She was just going to take a small look; just touch the child.

Nothing too dangerous. And children—well, if they were the most compelling, they were also by

far the easiest to heal all across the spectrum; their ies helped.

Taking a deep breath, Askeyia a’Narin reached into her shirt and pulled out the medallion of the

healer-born. It

She did not look over her shoulder again. She did not wonder where Jonas and Mercy were. She

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held the life glittered in the sun as she laid it flat against her breast, a in her hands, and the life

was almost everything. It was platinum rectangle, simple and severe, with only the why a healer

couldn’t freely touch the injured or the dying golden glow of two hands, palm up, to alleviate the

stark- at her level of skill; the call was almost impossible ness. No one in the city could mistake

the medallion itself to ignore. Not that she would have ignored it; she was, for anything other

than what it was. as Levee had said, the softest free towner that he had

The flash of light cut the shadow and drew the woman’s attention, and although she made no

move as Levee ever met.

She brushed a stray strand of limp, dark hair from the toward Askeyia, her dark eyes lit with a

hunger, a hope, curve of her cneek; it was shorn by fire, the candle’s that the healer had seen so

often it shouldn’t have been kiss—one she’d been too tired to completely avoid. With jarring. But

it was. care, she took the child from the arms of his mother.

“Healer,” the woman said. Healer, I know— Askeyia lifted a hand that was at once gentle and

impe-

He’s only a babe, she thought. It won’t cost much.

rious. She held out her hands but the woman’s arms, thin Babies were need define(j5 but thdr needs were

si { and fragile, seemed locked in a position that she herself ^ sleeping physicai COmfort. Askeyia felt

the had forgotten how to break. Shock-or worse. The ^^ ^ £ ^ {n a msh ag ^ h^ th h woman started to

speak agam and again Askeyia lifted a inarticulate icture smells_the smells were strong-hand Of all he

things that she found^ difficult the. f ^ miH j ful tearful tired> and some.

pleading was always the worst; it cut her, to hear a voice ^ angry m^ ^ v^nySh^ could nQt re<:ognize this

°“ielm Askeyiaea’Narin,” she told the woman gently. womafn, j“ *e woman who stood in such

desperation, ”And I’m-I’m about to’start my day at the M^‘lSfS^^^ temple in the thirteenth

holding.“ It was absolutely true

“T-f ■•A.««‘«4 If hah’ A 1W n. wrvü ^qh or«r*r»mr»cin’t/ mp ” She p

“If you’d-if you’d like, you can accompany me held out her arms again.

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