Children of Chaos

Preface

THE GODS

The true rulers of the world are the Bright Ones:

Anziel, goddess of beauty

Cienu, god of mirth and chance

Demern, god of law and justice

Eriander, god-goddess of sex and madness

Hrada, goddess of crafts and skill

Mayn, goddess of wisdom

Nastrar, god of animals and nature

Nula, goddess of pity

Sinura, goddess of health Ucr, god of prosperity and abundance

Veslih, goddess of the hearth and home

Weru, god of storm and battle

(There is also Xaran, goddess of death and evil, whose name is not spoken.)

IMPORTANT MORTALS

Hrag Hragson begat a daughter, Saltaja, and four sons, Therek, Karvak, Stralg, and Horold.

Piero, the doge of Celebre, had three sons, Dantio, Benard, and Orlando, and a daughter, Fabia.

Karvak died in Jat-Nogul and Dantio in Skjar.

HELPFUL NOTES

12 Werists make a flank.

4 flanks and a packleader make a pack.

5 packs and a huntleader make a hunt.

5 hunts and a hostleader make a host, 1,231 men.

A pot-boiling is the time needed for a crock of cold water to come to the boil on an open fire, roughly one hour.

The unit of counting is one sixty, which therefore takes a singular-form plural: e.g., 'four sixty,' as we say 'four hundred' or 'four dozen.'

SOME OBSCURE VOCABULARY

Chthonian: Related to the underworld

Corban: An offering sworn to God

Menzil: The distance a caravan travels in one day

Henotheist: A person who worships a single god without denying the existence of others (on Dodec, usually a member of a mystery cult)

Polytheist: A person who worships many gods (as most people on Dodec do)

Extrinsic: An outsider (used by members of a mystery to indicate a nonmember, either a polytheist or a member of another cult)

THE WORLD

The Dodecians' image of their world is a physical impossibility. I have summarized the logic in an appendix at the end of the sequel volume, Mother of Lies. Until you have a chance to read that, please be charitable. It is not so very long ago that most people thought the Earth was a flat disk. The Dodecians may be mistaken, but they are not crazy enough to believe anything as absurd as that.

Prologue

LORD DANTIO

was very frightened, clutching the rail as tightly as he could—much tighter than he needed to, because the chariot ran smoothly on the paving and Papa was not going fast. The axle squealed, the guanacos' little hooves clip-clopped, wheels rumbled, the leather straps of the floor creaked, but that was all. No other sound.

When news of the massacre at Two Fords reached Celebre, the city went mad. For three days and nights the people mourned, clamoring and wailing, blowing trumpets, beating on drums or pots. Panic-stricken crowds packed into the temples until worshipers were being trampled or suffocated. But then, suddenly, the enemy was at the gates and the noise stopped. The city fell silent—completely, appallingly, silent.

Yet everywhere there were faces, thousands and thousands of faces—massed on balconies and roofs, in every window, and ten or twelve deep along both sides of the wide avenue—and they were all staring at him. All silent. Could they not even call out just one farewell, sing a dirge for him, shout a blessing? The entire city seemed to have turned out to watch his departure. He stared straight ahead, trying to ignore all the faces and keep his eyes fixed on the great gates drawing closer up ahead. He was horribly afraid that he was going to weep, or throw up, or piddle, or do something even more terrible to shame himself and Papa.

'Almost there,' Papa said. 'You are doing wonderfully! I am enormously proud of you.'

Dantio looked up, feeling his lip quiver. Despite all the promises he had made to himself, he had to say it: 'Papa, I'm scared!'

His father winced, as if he'd stubbed a toe. 'You don't look it! I told you—courage is simply doing your duty even if you are frightened. By all the gods, son, you are a very brave boy doing his duty.'

Brave people did not tremble. Their mouths were not drier than salt.

'Don't let the crowds worry you,' his father said. 'They're counting on you, son. The whole city is counting on you. And so am I. I am so proud of you I want to weep. Celebre is proud of you.'

At last the chariot rumbled under the great arch into the narrow barbican, out of blazing sunlight into the shadow of high battlements. There were no soldiers up there manning the walls, because Celebre's city guard had died with the militia at Two Fords. The noise of hooves and axle redoubled, echoing. Papa slowed down to take the curve through the outer gate.

Dantio took a quick look back. The second chariot was bringing Mama and the baby, driven by a Nastrarian in his green robe. Witness Fiorella, wearing her seer's blindfold, was driving the third, bringing Benard and Orlando.