The Scrolls of the Ancients: Chapter Six
Nov. 11th, 2024 07:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
masterghandalfThis is a repost from Das_Sporking2. Previous installments of this spork may be found here.
Warning: This chapter contains depiction and/or discussion of slavery, sexism, homophobia, eugenics, and death.
MG: Well, everyone, it’s time to continue our journey through Robert Newcomb’s The Scrolls of the Ancients! Last time, Wigg and Faegan did a whole lot of infodumping about Wulfgar, Krassus, and the titular scrolls… and somehow managed to make the entire series even grosser and creepier while they were at it. Impressive! Today, it’s time to check back in with the slaves and slavers (and one evil clown) as we learn a bit more about just what is going on here. Joining us today will be Tahiri and Irinali!
Chapter Six
Tahiri: *glances up at the topic, and over at her co-sporker, who gives a look of exaggerated innocence in response* Oh, I can just tell this is going to be so much fuuun… Well, I don’t think taking my sweet time is going to improve the experience any, so let’s get to it. We open with our friend, Number Twenty-Nine, as he’s still being forced to row by the slavers, counting himself lucky to have survived this long. We learn that he’s actively bleeding and many of his fellow slaves have collapsed already (to be tossed overboard and replaced with new ones from the hold), but he’s just barely holding on. The deck was bathed in vomit, urine and blood. *wrinkles her nose* Lovely. You know, the Yuuzhan Vong treat their slaves this brutally for religious reasons. What’s these people’s excuse? Is the amount of speed they’re getting from working them this hard really worth the time and effort to have to pretty regularly get rid of corpses and bring in new slaves?
Dastardly Deeds: 13
Gratuitous Grimdark: 8
Irinali: See, this is why the undead make better workers! No matter how hard you push them, this won’t happen, because they’re already dead! Not that the Harlequin seems to care, as he’s just sitting watching this whole business with a literal glass of wine in hand. Now, I enjoy a good red wine as much as the next elf, but flaunting it in front of the slaves like that is just… petty. Finally, the slavers give the order to stow the oars, and the “bleeders” come along to poke the exhausted slaves back awake with their tridents. Twenty-Nine manages to sit up enough to look out his oar slit and sees they’ve reached land – oh, are we actually going to find out what’s going on here, instead of more slave torture? I do enjoy it when story beats actually matter. The bleeders start unchaining the slaves and hauling them up; Twenty-Nine’s neighbor (would that be Thirty, or Twenty-Eight?) asks where they’re going, but Twenty-Nine tells him to be quiet and not draw attention, and not to make eye contact with the Harlequin when they pass him. Hmmm; seems smart enough.
Dastardly Deeds: 14
Tahiri: So, the slaves all get hauled onto the deck. The first thing he saw were hundreds of slaves of both sexes standing before him, waiting to disembark. They had been divided by gender. The women, dressed in simple, one-piece frocks, had apparently fared little better than the men. Most looked ill; many were coughing. Not sure I want to know why they were separated by gender, because, well, it's probably something to do with Newcomb being a creep. Also, we get some description of our new setting!
Their ship seemed to be docked in some kind of subterranean stone harbor. The flat, rough-hewn wharf had apparently been carved directly from the walls. A great deal of activity was taking place. The noise of the clanking manacles and the shouting of frightened slaves echoed hauntingly back and forth between the cavern walls and ceiling. Wide enough to easily anchor several ships like the Defiant, the saltwater bay was open to the ocean at only one end. The tunnel-shaped portal was easily wide enough and high enough to allow the passage of the great ships in and out. Looking more closely, Twenty-Nine saw the sunlight beyond the cavern’s outer edges come streaming down from the sky. Dappling the surface of the sea beyond, it tantalizingly reminded him of the freedom from which he had been so unbelievably, inexplicably taken. In the distance, his eyes could just make out the white, graceful sails of two more ships. The stone pier before them was huge, easily large enough to allow several hundred persons to stand upon it. Numerous gangplanks had been lowered from the Defiant to the pier, and slaves were already filing down them. Dozens of bleeders stood there waiting. As he looked closer, he could see beyond the crowd of disembarked slaves several dozen men sitting at long tables. They wore dark blue robes. As the slaves approached them, the men wrote with quills and ink in large, leather-bound journals.
Tahiri: So… yeah. Lovely place. It stinks, too (let’s see, underground, seawater, unwashed people… I wonder why?) and it’s lit only by torches and lanterns, and the only sounds are whips and distant screams. Okay, yeah, this is going to bring back some memories I don’t want, so… moving on! Twenty-Nine also seems to want to think about other things, especially as he’s noticed that other slave ships are already docked and unloaded, so he focuses on his hands.
Once beautiful, they had easily commanded the highest of compensation for his chosen trade of weapon making. Now they were bloodied and broken, and he doubted they could ever demand such sums again, even if somehow given the chance. Painfully, he tried to straighten out his fingers, but they stubbornly refused to obey, as if they had become appendages belonging to someone else. As they defiantly clung to the shape of the oar handle, he suddenly realized that even though he no longer held the oar, its mastery of him might remain a part of his being forever. Raising his face back up to the strange subterranean harbor and the wailing of his fellow innocents, he felt tears come to his eyes.
Tahiri: *fervently and with sympathy* Poor man. My situation wasn’t exactly like yours, but I think I know how you feel, a little bit. *she rubs the scars on her forehead idly with one hand* Now, how long do you think it’ll be before Newcomb squanders any and all storytelling potential from this?
Dastardly Deeds: 15
Gratuitous Grimdark: 9
Irinali: I refuse to take bets I know I’ll lose, thank you. Anyway, looking up from his hands, Twenty-Nine notices a slave who’s now standing next to him.
The man was very tall, and unlike most of the other slaves, he somehow stood defiantly erect. Broad-shouldered and stocky, the man was heavily muscled, making it clear that he was quite used to manual labor. The level, intelligent-looking eyes were hazel. Smooth, sandy-colored hair was tied behind his neck with a short strip of leather and fell long down his back. A dark mole lay at the left-hand corner of the man’s mouth. Although not what many would call classically handsome, the slave carried with him a great sense of strength and personal fortitude. He looked to be approximately thirty-five Seasons of New Life. On the man’s shoulder Twenty-Nine could easily see the still angry, partially healed brand R’talis.
Irinali: From the details of the description and the R’Talis brand, I’m presuming… Wulfgar. At last. Perhaps now, things can get interesting… Twenty-Nine notices that around the newcomer is a group of men and women who share the same brand, and that their group seems smaller than the ones with the Talis brand, and somehow set apart (which we all know is because of their blood…). He’s distracted from his musings as he’s struck in the back with a whip, and realizes he was so busy studying maybe-Wulfgar that he stopped moving and was just standing there staring at him, my my. The slavers force Twenty-Nine back into line, but he and Wulfgar share a meaningful look. *beat* If I thought Newcomb was doing this on purpose, it might be interesting… Everyone gets hauled off the ships and into the cavern, and get paraded past the robed men (consuls?) at their desks. Twenty-Nine’s number and the fact that he’s Talis get marked down, along with his given name and house, which Newcomb still withholds from us. Really? Also, I suppose this is confirmation that every Eutracian belongs to a “house,” then, if it’s something the consuls expect every slave to be able to tell them? Does… does Newcomb actually know what a “house” is? And why commoners, as a rule – I believe this man is a weaponsmith, in other words, someone who works for a living – don’t have them?
MG: I think we’ve conclusively proven at this point that “things Newcomb doesn’t know” could fill a number of very large books.
Blood Matters: 34
Dastardly Deeds: 16
Tahiri: I know some Hapans who’d be aghast at that. *beat* In fact, I think showing this book to some Hapans has potential. They’d hate it, for cultural reasons, and would never let Newcomb get away with it… and also, you know, seeing a punch of prissy aristocratic snobs (I went to Hapes once, I visited the royal palace barefoot one time, and everyone acted like I’d murdered the Queen Mother’s favorite loth-cat or something, seriously…) having to deal with books this crass might be entertaining for me, so everyone wins! Except Newcomb. Well, moving on, one of the consuls grabs Twenty-Nine’s wrist and magically makes a small cut in his hand, from which he bleeds a little bit onto a piece of paper before it closes. They then pour a little water on the blood, and nothing happens, confirming that he is indeed “Talis. No blood assay or Forestallment map required.” I think you probably dodged a blaster bolt there, Twenty-Nine. Sure, you’ve probably got a future of backbreaking labor to look forward to… but at least you’ll be spared Newcomb’s obsession with special magic blood.
Blood Matters: 36
Irinali: Well, someone else isn’t so lucky; Twenty-Nine notices a disturbance behind him and realizes that the testers have found something very interesting in the man he’d noticed earlier. They excitedly ask him to repeat his name and house:
The man looked at them with defiance. “I already told you,” he said. “I am Wulfgar, of the House of Merrick; son of Jason and Selene. What do you want of me?”
Irinali: And there we have it! As expected. But perhaps now, something more interesting can start happening, maybe? The testers draw some blood from Wulfgar (I suppose they were reacting only to his name just now, without having seen his blood signature, then? Had they considered that there might be more than one man in Eutracia named “Wulfgar,” or that the family who adopted him might have changed his name? In fact, if he still had the name Morganna gave him, and he’s the right age… Wigg must have not been looking for him very hard, was he?).
Then the two robed men did something curious. From a leather case, one of them produced a strange-looking object—actually two objects, housed side by side in some kind of open frame, Twenty-Nine soon realized. One of them appeared to be a clear beaker, the other an hourglass. Both were small in size. The beaker contained a small quantity of thick, red fluid that seemed to move about inside it in little waves, as if it had a life of its own. At the bottom of the beaker was a small spigot. The hourglass was the smallest Twenty-Nine had ever seen. Its lower, teardrop-shaped globe contained what looked to be no more than a dozen small black spheres. Looking closer, he couldn’t possibly imagine why one would need to measure the extremely limited period of time such a small amount of sand would allow.
Irinali: Oooh, this I’m interested in! Can I have one? I’m sure I can find some use for it…
Tahiri: *shudders* Yeah, no. I’ve had enough experiences with weird-looking equipment for one lifetime, thanks. Anyway, everyone watches intently as one of the consuls arranges the device over a piece of parchment, then stretches a long, straight string directly under it to align it properly with the blood drop. He says he’s ready, one of the others reminds him this has to be timed exactly right, and then one of them places a drop of strange red fluid – the Cave waters, I guess – while another activates the device with a blue glow. This triggers Wulfgar’s blood to trace its signature across the parchment – ew – and the consuls confirm it matches what they’re looking for. “It is he! We have found him!” Yaaay. Who could’ve seen this coming? *bored* Yeah, me too. They also confirm using the timing device that they’ve never seen such blood assay quality, whatever the kriff that means. But after some more examination, they all agree that it’s “A left-leaning signature!” he announced. “And the angle is the most severe I have ever encountered!” “And there are no Forestallments to map!” the other said. “His blood is unadulterated, just as Krassus predicted! We could not have asked for more!” So, yeah, basically just confirming what Wigg said about Wulfgar’s blood, which we already knew. So, the consuls order some of the slavers to take Wulfgar and make sure no harm comes to him, while they send another to fetch Janus. Twenty-Nine, meanwhile, is left completely bewildered by what he’s just seen. I envy him; I wish I didn’t understand it.
MG: Janus, as you’ve probably already guessed, is the Harlequin’s name. Now, that name has some very particular real-world connotations – in Roman mythology, Janus is the two-faced god of beginnings and endings, the namesake of the month of January, and one of the most prominent gods the Romans didn’t share with the Greeks. You might expect this to have some symbolic significance for the Harlequin as a character – that he himself is “two-faced” in some way, perhaps. Alas, no. As far as I can tell, the name has no deeper meaning at all. He’s just a dude who dresses like a clown and is named after a god for no particular reason. Seriously.
Blood Matters: 40
Exposition Intrusion: 36
Plot-Induced Stupidity: 13
Irinali: Hmmm; how boring. Oh, well. Perhaps Wulfgar himself will prove more interesting? Should he require a tutor in necromancy, my rates are very reasonable. Speaking of Wulfgar, he himself is left looking around himself in confusion until the Harlequin himself shows up; one of the Consuls indeed greets him as Janus and tells him that they’ve found the person they’re looking for. Janus examines the blood signature, but wants to make sure they’re certain, since Krassus won’t be happy if he’s summoned back for yet another false alarm. Excuse me, but that implies they’ve had false alarms before. How did that happen, exactly? Isn’t Wulfgar’s signature supposed to be extremely distinctive? Did the consuls confuse him for someone else? How? Aren’t they supposed to be good at this sort of thing? Apparently not…
Blood Matters: 42
Plot-Induced Stupidity: 14
Tahiri: Well, they confirm that Wulfgar’s “blood assay” was one half, which proves his “blood quality” is higher than anyone they’ve tested except, of course, for the “Chosen Ones” *rolls her eyes* and that the signature is extremely left-leaning. So, we’re just repeating what we were told a page or two ago, now? Great. Janus then examines the signature himself and agrees that Wulfgar is indeed the one.
The painted freak turned toward Wulfgar. “All of that magnificently endowed blood, just waiting to be trained,” he mused. Grasping Wulfgar’s chin, he examined the slave’s face as he turned it this way and that in the dim light of the torches. “And you are so beautiful, as well,” he added. Then, letting out an exasperated breath, he backed away, all the while staring with revulsion at the slave’s soiled, torn loincloth and filthy, bare feet. Reaching into a pocket, he produced a small, golden tin of snuff. With careful movements, he held a pinch up to his nose and sniffed hard. A sudden, forceful sneeze followed. Then he smiled. “No matter,” he said, sniffing twice again. “Your disgusting aroma can be remedied. And beautiful you are, my dear Wulfgar, despite your current state. You are living proof that the licentious tart that was your mother somehow always managed to vomit forth impressive children, no matter the quality of the fool she laid with. How nice.”
MG: So, uh… yeah. This feels like the time to talk about this, but there are several points in this book where Janus gets very… flirty with other men. I’m not sure if he’s meant to be sincere in his interest, or if he just likes screwing with people (I don’t think we ever see his POV) but either way, I’m pretty sure this is the only example of male homosexuality even being hinted at in the series. And it’s coming from a prissy, bizarrely-dressed, bizarrely-behaving man who is in this very passage outright described as a “freak” and presented as weird and creepy in general. It’s… not great, to put it very mildly, especially considering that the sorceresses were also demonized for their bisexuality (iirc, Janus also makes some passes at women later in the book, so he’s probably bi as well). Thankfully, it’s not something Newcomb dwells on much this time around but considering the rank sexism and persistent heteronormativity of the rest of the series, I definitely didn’t want to let it pass without comment, either. Not to mention Janus’s own, uh, grossly and needlessly misogynistic description of Morganna.
Dastardly Deeds: 18
Gender Wars: 12
Tahiri: …yeah. What they said. Anyway, The slave’s answer was immediate: He summoned all the saliva he could and spat it directly into Janus’ face. Welp, I certainly can’t fault him for that! Janus, for his part, wipes the spit off his face and comments about how Wulfgar is like his half-siblings (who I don’t think Janus has actually met?); Wulfgar is confused by this, but Janus just says he’ll learn about them before long and orders the demonslavers to watch over him. So, uh, the slavers’ name is just “demon” and “slavers” mashed up together, without even being contracted? Boring. Also makes them sound like they enslave demons, rather than being slavers who are themselves demonic; huh. And can you imagine if one of them wanted to get a normal job as, like, a bartender or something, and had to give “demonsalver” as their species if someone asked? Awkward.
Dastardly Deeds: 19 (for “demonslavers”)
Irinali: I suppose. Janus orders that Wulfgar be sent to Krassus’ personal quarters, there to be bathed, fed, and given a change of clothes, and otherwise not disturbed unless Janus personally orders it. I want him to be sleek and happy when he meets his new teacher. Ah, sleek, perhaps, but you are aware your… men… kidnapped him from his home and chained him in a stinking ship’s hold for Sovereigns-know-how-long, yes? I don’t think “happy” is a mood you’re likely to get out of him any time soon! Wulfgar demands to know what Janus wants from him. Janus smiled. “Be at peace,” he cooed softly. “For the time being, all that matters is what we shall be doing for you.” Well, I think what you’ve done to him already may be more important; had someone done to me what you have already done to Wulfgar… well, friend Janus, I would already be planning your murder. I think your recruitment tactics fail to be… convincing.
Tahiri: Yeah, well, based on what our host let slip to me, I don’t think he’s going to be given a choice. *an inhuman expression once again flits across her face, and when she speaks it’s with a strange, alien accent and cadence quite unlike her normal one* And once we reach that part of the story, if so… then I fear I shall have words for one Robert Newcomb and his tale, which he likely will not enjoy, though the experience may be quite instructive… *back to her normal self* Where were we? Ah, someone from the crowd suddenly yells out to Janus to leave Wulfgar alone, since he’s done nothing to them. Janus waves the speaker forward (what, he doesn’t have the guards bring him, he just lets him walk up? Risky!)
The man had served on the oaring deck. Twenty-Nine had never been afforded the opportunity to speak to him, for their stations had been too far removed from each other. But he did know that this slave had been one of the most quarrelsome. He had purposely given the demonslavers a great deal of trouble, sometimes even mocking them. Many of the others manning the oars had looked up to him. The grisly evidence of the demonslavers’ love for both the nine-tails and trident showed over much of his lean, hard body, and yet this man, like the slave named Wulfgar, had somehow managed to keep not only part of his strength intact, but also most of his dignity. As he walked slowly forward to face Janus, the demonslavers grudgingly made way.
Tahiri: Huh; considering how brutally the slavers treated their captives, I’m amazed they didn’t just kill this guy and replace him with someone more tractable… Janus rubs his bolas (gods, that sounded dirty…) notes that the slave is in no position to give orders, and notes that he’s talis, so his death is no loss (figures). He tells the slave to run down the docks towards the ships; if he makes it, he’ll let him go. The slave, disbelieving, turns to run… while Janus draws his bolas and starts winding them up. We get way too much description of the slave running and the bolas spinning, and then Janus lets fly.
The weapon wheeled unerringly toward the running slave. He never had a chance. The midpoint of the checkered line caught him in the back of the neck. Instantaneously the lines on either side wound around and around his throat. The twin spheres closed ranks, smashing with a great cracking noise into his head—one into his face, the other into the back of his skull. Blood and brain matter exploded from his crushed cranium, and he crashed to the ground just before reaching the end of the pier. A hush came over the crowd.
Tahiri: *looking queasy* Well, that was… horrible.
Blood Matters: 43
Dastardly Deeds: 20
Gratuitous Grimdark: 10
Irinali: Well, it’s not over yet, as the slave groans – remarkable, considering his skull was crushed and his brain is leaking out, what kind of magic is in those bolas? – and Janus confirms he’s still alive, for the moment. He goes over to retrieve his weapon as the slave breathes his last, cleans it off, then comments that “I think it safe to say he no longer has the head for this business!” And he gave a sarcastic laugh. The slavers standing near him broke into raucous laughter. Oh, that was revolting. Not the death – honestly, the man was dead the moment he spoke up – but the joke. You’re dressed like a clown, Janus; surely you can do better than that. Twenty-Nine stares down at his hands in disgust and anger, while one of the slavers asks Janus what they should do with the body (hmm; I’d think they’d have a policy for that already, so I strongly suspect this is choreographed for the slaves’ benefit). Janus, in turn, takes the opening to monologue.
“Hear me!” Janus shouted. “For those others of you who might defy us, know that what happened to this slave is perhaps the most lenient of consequences. There exist far more ingenious methods of obtaining your cooperation, I assure you! Your loved ones back in Eutracia know you are gone, but have absolutely no idea of where you have been taken. Nor shall they ever. Rescue is quite impossible. And should any of you be thinking of plotting an escape, also know that you are on an island. Should you try to leave us, only death awaits you in these waters. Allow me to demonstrate!”
Irinali: And so, he orders the slavers to cut the body into pieces, then throw it into the water. The slavers do so, and then Janus commands the slaves to watch and wait. After a moment, something starts happening.
An area of the sea surface started to glow with the color azure. It began to writhe and churn. Deepening whirlpools, each several meters across, could be seen forming in various spots on the gloomy sea of the subterranean harbor. Everyone stood transfixed, waiting to see what would happen next. And then, almost as if with a single mind, the crowd recoiled. From the midst of the azure whirlpools, squat, menacing heads silently began rising up out of the sea. The long, flat skulls were covered with dark red scales. Slanted, yellow eyes, with vertical black irises, darted from side to side as the heads turned menacingly this way and that, searching for whatever had disturbed the surface of the sea. Several of them began slithering hungrily toward the pieces of severed corpse, portions of their long, smooth bodies intermittently rising and submerging as they went. Their strangely forked tails rose silently from the water, only to submerge again. In the center of their backs a spiny fin occasionally swept up in a gentle curve only to fall again, to lie against the sinuous spine. Dozens of them were rising silently to the surface now, slithering over and under one another, writhing and twisting in the dark sea. The only sound was their eager hissing.
Tahiri: Eh, I’ve seen worse. You should see what sorts of watch creatures the Yuuzhan Vong use; not a lot that’s impressive after that.
Dastardly Deeds: 22
Tahiri: So, the creatures start tearing into the remains and gobble them down; once they’re done, they sink back into the water, leaving only the slave’s loincloth behind (well, they’re… thorough, I’ll give them that!). Smiling, the Harlequin turned back to the gaping crowd. “They are called sea slitherers,” he said. “Created by my esteemed master. They number in the thousands, and completely surround the waters of these isles. As I said, escape is impossible.” *rolling her eyes* First “demonslavers,” now “sea slitherers?” Do you people just name your creatures after what they do in the most generic way possible? Say what you will about the Yuuzhan Vong, they can at least turn a phrase… Twenty-Nine notes that after this display, Wulfgar seems to have given up struggling and is just standing passively in the arms of the slavers holding him; Janus says they’ve had enough fun for the afternoon (seriously?) and tells the slavers again to take him to Krassus’s quarters, and that they’ll answer to Krassus himself if anything happens to him. Meanwhile, the parchment with his blood signature is to be secured in the scriptorium and the consuls are to keep processing the vermin, since they have two more ships coming in soon. I mean… you all found the man you want, but I guess an operation like this has plenty of need for more slaves? *she shudders*
Dastardly Deeds: 23
Gratuitous Grimdark: 11
Irinali: And so, the slavers haul off Wulfgar, and then a moment later they get the rest moving, including Twenty-Nine, leading them to a pair of stairways marked Talis and R’Talis; as Twenty-Nine is shoved up the Talis stair, he looks around to Wulfgar, hoping to give him a look of encouragement, but Wulfgar is already gone (ooh, is that symbolic? Is Newcomb actually that clever? Probably not!). And so, the slavers force Twenty-Nine up the stairs, and the chapter comes to an end.
MG: This chapter… I’m of two minds about. On the one hand, it accomplishes what it needs to and gets the plot moving properly – we know the slavers are working for Krassus (which we could have already guessed, but now we have explicit confirmation), we know the Harlequin’s name, we know they’ve found Wulfgar and have some idea of what they’re doing with him. On the other hand, we have a lot of exposition that retreads stuff we learned last time, we highlighted some very uncomfortable elements of Janus’s character, a lot of it seemed to exist just to highlight how evil Janus is, and “demonslavers” and especially “sea slitherers” are very silly names. All told… it’s far from the worst thing Newcomb’s ever written, but the bar there is not very high. Anyway, that’s it for today! Next time, we check back in with our “heroes” as they begin an investigation. Our counts stand at:
Blood Matters: 44
Contrivances and Coincidences: 5
Dastardly Deeds: 23
Exposition Intrusion: 36
Gender Wars: 10
Gratuitous Grimdark: 11
Plot-Induced Stupidity: 14
Protagonist-Centered Morality: 14
Retcons and Revelations: 9
Warning: This chapter contains depiction and/or discussion of slavery, sexism, homophobia, eugenics, and death.
MG: Well, everyone, it’s time to continue our journey through Robert Newcomb’s The Scrolls of the Ancients! Last time, Wigg and Faegan did a whole lot of infodumping about Wulfgar, Krassus, and the titular scrolls… and somehow managed to make the entire series even grosser and creepier while they were at it. Impressive! Today, it’s time to check back in with the slaves and slavers (and one evil clown) as we learn a bit more about just what is going on here. Joining us today will be Tahiri and Irinali!
Chapter Six
Tahiri: *glances up at the topic, and over at her co-sporker, who gives a look of exaggerated innocence in response* Oh, I can just tell this is going to be so much fuuun… Well, I don’t think taking my sweet time is going to improve the experience any, so let’s get to it. We open with our friend, Number Twenty-Nine, as he’s still being forced to row by the slavers, counting himself lucky to have survived this long. We learn that he’s actively bleeding and many of his fellow slaves have collapsed already (to be tossed overboard and replaced with new ones from the hold), but he’s just barely holding on. The deck was bathed in vomit, urine and blood. *wrinkles her nose* Lovely. You know, the Yuuzhan Vong treat their slaves this brutally for religious reasons. What’s these people’s excuse? Is the amount of speed they’re getting from working them this hard really worth the time and effort to have to pretty regularly get rid of corpses and bring in new slaves?
Dastardly Deeds: 13
Gratuitous Grimdark: 8
Irinali: See, this is why the undead make better workers! No matter how hard you push them, this won’t happen, because they’re already dead! Not that the Harlequin seems to care, as he’s just sitting watching this whole business with a literal glass of wine in hand. Now, I enjoy a good red wine as much as the next elf, but flaunting it in front of the slaves like that is just… petty. Finally, the slavers give the order to stow the oars, and the “bleeders” come along to poke the exhausted slaves back awake with their tridents. Twenty-Nine manages to sit up enough to look out his oar slit and sees they’ve reached land – oh, are we actually going to find out what’s going on here, instead of more slave torture? I do enjoy it when story beats actually matter. The bleeders start unchaining the slaves and hauling them up; Twenty-Nine’s neighbor (would that be Thirty, or Twenty-Eight?) asks where they’re going, but Twenty-Nine tells him to be quiet and not draw attention, and not to make eye contact with the Harlequin when they pass him. Hmmm; seems smart enough.
Dastardly Deeds: 14
Tahiri: So, the slaves all get hauled onto the deck. The first thing he saw were hundreds of slaves of both sexes standing before him, waiting to disembark. They had been divided by gender. The women, dressed in simple, one-piece frocks, had apparently fared little better than the men. Most looked ill; many were coughing. Not sure I want to know why they were separated by gender, because, well, it's probably something to do with Newcomb being a creep. Also, we get some description of our new setting!
Their ship seemed to be docked in some kind of subterranean stone harbor. The flat, rough-hewn wharf had apparently been carved directly from the walls. A great deal of activity was taking place. The noise of the clanking manacles and the shouting of frightened slaves echoed hauntingly back and forth between the cavern walls and ceiling. Wide enough to easily anchor several ships like the Defiant, the saltwater bay was open to the ocean at only one end. The tunnel-shaped portal was easily wide enough and high enough to allow the passage of the great ships in and out. Looking more closely, Twenty-Nine saw the sunlight beyond the cavern’s outer edges come streaming down from the sky. Dappling the surface of the sea beyond, it tantalizingly reminded him of the freedom from which he had been so unbelievably, inexplicably taken. In the distance, his eyes could just make out the white, graceful sails of two more ships. The stone pier before them was huge, easily large enough to allow several hundred persons to stand upon it. Numerous gangplanks had been lowered from the Defiant to the pier, and slaves were already filing down them. Dozens of bleeders stood there waiting. As he looked closer, he could see beyond the crowd of disembarked slaves several dozen men sitting at long tables. They wore dark blue robes. As the slaves approached them, the men wrote with quills and ink in large, leather-bound journals.
Tahiri: So… yeah. Lovely place. It stinks, too (let’s see, underground, seawater, unwashed people… I wonder why?) and it’s lit only by torches and lanterns, and the only sounds are whips and distant screams. Okay, yeah, this is going to bring back some memories I don’t want, so… moving on! Twenty-Nine also seems to want to think about other things, especially as he’s noticed that other slave ships are already docked and unloaded, so he focuses on his hands.
Once beautiful, they had easily commanded the highest of compensation for his chosen trade of weapon making. Now they were bloodied and broken, and he doubted they could ever demand such sums again, even if somehow given the chance. Painfully, he tried to straighten out his fingers, but they stubbornly refused to obey, as if they had become appendages belonging to someone else. As they defiantly clung to the shape of the oar handle, he suddenly realized that even though he no longer held the oar, its mastery of him might remain a part of his being forever. Raising his face back up to the strange subterranean harbor and the wailing of his fellow innocents, he felt tears come to his eyes.
Tahiri: *fervently and with sympathy* Poor man. My situation wasn’t exactly like yours, but I think I know how you feel, a little bit. *she rubs the scars on her forehead idly with one hand* Now, how long do you think it’ll be before Newcomb squanders any and all storytelling potential from this?
Dastardly Deeds: 15
Gratuitous Grimdark: 9
Irinali: I refuse to take bets I know I’ll lose, thank you. Anyway, looking up from his hands, Twenty-Nine notices a slave who’s now standing next to him.
The man was very tall, and unlike most of the other slaves, he somehow stood defiantly erect. Broad-shouldered and stocky, the man was heavily muscled, making it clear that he was quite used to manual labor. The level, intelligent-looking eyes were hazel. Smooth, sandy-colored hair was tied behind his neck with a short strip of leather and fell long down his back. A dark mole lay at the left-hand corner of the man’s mouth. Although not what many would call classically handsome, the slave carried with him a great sense of strength and personal fortitude. He looked to be approximately thirty-five Seasons of New Life. On the man’s shoulder Twenty-Nine could easily see the still angry, partially healed brand R’talis.
Irinali: From the details of the description and the R’Talis brand, I’m presuming… Wulfgar. At last. Perhaps now, things can get interesting… Twenty-Nine notices that around the newcomer is a group of men and women who share the same brand, and that their group seems smaller than the ones with the Talis brand, and somehow set apart (which we all know is because of their blood…). He’s distracted from his musings as he’s struck in the back with a whip, and realizes he was so busy studying maybe-Wulfgar that he stopped moving and was just standing there staring at him, my my. The slavers force Twenty-Nine back into line, but he and Wulfgar share a meaningful look. *beat* If I thought Newcomb was doing this on purpose, it might be interesting… Everyone gets hauled off the ships and into the cavern, and get paraded past the robed men (consuls?) at their desks. Twenty-Nine’s number and the fact that he’s Talis get marked down, along with his given name and house, which Newcomb still withholds from us. Really? Also, I suppose this is confirmation that every Eutracian belongs to a “house,” then, if it’s something the consuls expect every slave to be able to tell them? Does… does Newcomb actually know what a “house” is? And why commoners, as a rule – I believe this man is a weaponsmith, in other words, someone who works for a living – don’t have them?
MG: I think we’ve conclusively proven at this point that “things Newcomb doesn’t know” could fill a number of very large books.
Blood Matters: 34
Dastardly Deeds: 16
Tahiri: I know some Hapans who’d be aghast at that. *beat* In fact, I think showing this book to some Hapans has potential. They’d hate it, for cultural reasons, and would never let Newcomb get away with it… and also, you know, seeing a punch of prissy aristocratic snobs (I went to Hapes once, I visited the royal palace barefoot one time, and everyone acted like I’d murdered the Queen Mother’s favorite loth-cat or something, seriously…) having to deal with books this crass might be entertaining for me, so everyone wins! Except Newcomb. Well, moving on, one of the consuls grabs Twenty-Nine’s wrist and magically makes a small cut in his hand, from which he bleeds a little bit onto a piece of paper before it closes. They then pour a little water on the blood, and nothing happens, confirming that he is indeed “Talis. No blood assay or Forestallment map required.” I think you probably dodged a blaster bolt there, Twenty-Nine. Sure, you’ve probably got a future of backbreaking labor to look forward to… but at least you’ll be spared Newcomb’s obsession with special magic blood.
Blood Matters: 36
Irinali: Well, someone else isn’t so lucky; Twenty-Nine notices a disturbance behind him and realizes that the testers have found something very interesting in the man he’d noticed earlier. They excitedly ask him to repeat his name and house:
The man looked at them with defiance. “I already told you,” he said. “I am Wulfgar, of the House of Merrick; son of Jason and Selene. What do you want of me?”
Irinali: And there we have it! As expected. But perhaps now, something more interesting can start happening, maybe? The testers draw some blood from Wulfgar (I suppose they were reacting only to his name just now, without having seen his blood signature, then? Had they considered that there might be more than one man in Eutracia named “Wulfgar,” or that the family who adopted him might have changed his name? In fact, if he still had the name Morganna gave him, and he’s the right age… Wigg must have not been looking for him very hard, was he?).
Then the two robed men did something curious. From a leather case, one of them produced a strange-looking object—actually two objects, housed side by side in some kind of open frame, Twenty-Nine soon realized. One of them appeared to be a clear beaker, the other an hourglass. Both were small in size. The beaker contained a small quantity of thick, red fluid that seemed to move about inside it in little waves, as if it had a life of its own. At the bottom of the beaker was a small spigot. The hourglass was the smallest Twenty-Nine had ever seen. Its lower, teardrop-shaped globe contained what looked to be no more than a dozen small black spheres. Looking closer, he couldn’t possibly imagine why one would need to measure the extremely limited period of time such a small amount of sand would allow.
Irinali: Oooh, this I’m interested in! Can I have one? I’m sure I can find some use for it…
Tahiri: *shudders* Yeah, no. I’ve had enough experiences with weird-looking equipment for one lifetime, thanks. Anyway, everyone watches intently as one of the consuls arranges the device over a piece of parchment, then stretches a long, straight string directly under it to align it properly with the blood drop. He says he’s ready, one of the others reminds him this has to be timed exactly right, and then one of them places a drop of strange red fluid – the Cave waters, I guess – while another activates the device with a blue glow. This triggers Wulfgar’s blood to trace its signature across the parchment – ew – and the consuls confirm it matches what they’re looking for. “It is he! We have found him!” Yaaay. Who could’ve seen this coming? *bored* Yeah, me too. They also confirm using the timing device that they’ve never seen such blood assay quality, whatever the kriff that means. But after some more examination, they all agree that it’s “A left-leaning signature!” he announced. “And the angle is the most severe I have ever encountered!” “And there are no Forestallments to map!” the other said. “His blood is unadulterated, just as Krassus predicted! We could not have asked for more!” So, yeah, basically just confirming what Wigg said about Wulfgar’s blood, which we already knew. So, the consuls order some of the slavers to take Wulfgar and make sure no harm comes to him, while they send another to fetch Janus. Twenty-Nine, meanwhile, is left completely bewildered by what he’s just seen. I envy him; I wish I didn’t understand it.
MG: Janus, as you’ve probably already guessed, is the Harlequin’s name. Now, that name has some very particular real-world connotations – in Roman mythology, Janus is the two-faced god of beginnings and endings, the namesake of the month of January, and one of the most prominent gods the Romans didn’t share with the Greeks. You might expect this to have some symbolic significance for the Harlequin as a character – that he himself is “two-faced” in some way, perhaps. Alas, no. As far as I can tell, the name has no deeper meaning at all. He’s just a dude who dresses like a clown and is named after a god for no particular reason. Seriously.
Blood Matters: 40
Exposition Intrusion: 36
Plot-Induced Stupidity: 13
Irinali: Hmmm; how boring. Oh, well. Perhaps Wulfgar himself will prove more interesting? Should he require a tutor in necromancy, my rates are very reasonable. Speaking of Wulfgar, he himself is left looking around himself in confusion until the Harlequin himself shows up; one of the Consuls indeed greets him as Janus and tells him that they’ve found the person they’re looking for. Janus examines the blood signature, but wants to make sure they’re certain, since Krassus won’t be happy if he’s summoned back for yet another false alarm. Excuse me, but that implies they’ve had false alarms before. How did that happen, exactly? Isn’t Wulfgar’s signature supposed to be extremely distinctive? Did the consuls confuse him for someone else? How? Aren’t they supposed to be good at this sort of thing? Apparently not…
Blood Matters: 42
Plot-Induced Stupidity: 14
Tahiri: Well, they confirm that Wulfgar’s “blood assay” was one half, which proves his “blood quality” is higher than anyone they’ve tested except, of course, for the “Chosen Ones” *rolls her eyes* and that the signature is extremely left-leaning. So, we’re just repeating what we were told a page or two ago, now? Great. Janus then examines the signature himself and agrees that Wulfgar is indeed the one.
The painted freak turned toward Wulfgar. “All of that magnificently endowed blood, just waiting to be trained,” he mused. Grasping Wulfgar’s chin, he examined the slave’s face as he turned it this way and that in the dim light of the torches. “And you are so beautiful, as well,” he added. Then, letting out an exasperated breath, he backed away, all the while staring with revulsion at the slave’s soiled, torn loincloth and filthy, bare feet. Reaching into a pocket, he produced a small, golden tin of snuff. With careful movements, he held a pinch up to his nose and sniffed hard. A sudden, forceful sneeze followed. Then he smiled. “No matter,” he said, sniffing twice again. “Your disgusting aroma can be remedied. And beautiful you are, my dear Wulfgar, despite your current state. You are living proof that the licentious tart that was your mother somehow always managed to vomit forth impressive children, no matter the quality of the fool she laid with. How nice.”
MG: So, uh… yeah. This feels like the time to talk about this, but there are several points in this book where Janus gets very… flirty with other men. I’m not sure if he’s meant to be sincere in his interest, or if he just likes screwing with people (I don’t think we ever see his POV) but either way, I’m pretty sure this is the only example of male homosexuality even being hinted at in the series. And it’s coming from a prissy, bizarrely-dressed, bizarrely-behaving man who is in this very passage outright described as a “freak” and presented as weird and creepy in general. It’s… not great, to put it very mildly, especially considering that the sorceresses were also demonized for their bisexuality (iirc, Janus also makes some passes at women later in the book, so he’s probably bi as well). Thankfully, it’s not something Newcomb dwells on much this time around but considering the rank sexism and persistent heteronormativity of the rest of the series, I definitely didn’t want to let it pass without comment, either. Not to mention Janus’s own, uh, grossly and needlessly misogynistic description of Morganna.
Dastardly Deeds: 18
Gender Wars: 12
Tahiri: …yeah. What they said. Anyway, The slave’s answer was immediate: He summoned all the saliva he could and spat it directly into Janus’ face. Welp, I certainly can’t fault him for that! Janus, for his part, wipes the spit off his face and comments about how Wulfgar is like his half-siblings (who I don’t think Janus has actually met?); Wulfgar is confused by this, but Janus just says he’ll learn about them before long and orders the demonslavers to watch over him. So, uh, the slavers’ name is just “demon” and “slavers” mashed up together, without even being contracted? Boring. Also makes them sound like they enslave demons, rather than being slavers who are themselves demonic; huh. And can you imagine if one of them wanted to get a normal job as, like, a bartender or something, and had to give “demonsalver” as their species if someone asked? Awkward.
Dastardly Deeds: 19 (for “demonslavers”)
Irinali: I suppose. Janus orders that Wulfgar be sent to Krassus’ personal quarters, there to be bathed, fed, and given a change of clothes, and otherwise not disturbed unless Janus personally orders it. I want him to be sleek and happy when he meets his new teacher. Ah, sleek, perhaps, but you are aware your… men… kidnapped him from his home and chained him in a stinking ship’s hold for Sovereigns-know-how-long, yes? I don’t think “happy” is a mood you’re likely to get out of him any time soon! Wulfgar demands to know what Janus wants from him. Janus smiled. “Be at peace,” he cooed softly. “For the time being, all that matters is what we shall be doing for you.” Well, I think what you’ve done to him already may be more important; had someone done to me what you have already done to Wulfgar… well, friend Janus, I would already be planning your murder. I think your recruitment tactics fail to be… convincing.
Tahiri: Yeah, well, based on what our host let slip to me, I don’t think he’s going to be given a choice. *an inhuman expression once again flits across her face, and when she speaks it’s with a strange, alien accent and cadence quite unlike her normal one* And once we reach that part of the story, if so… then I fear I shall have words for one Robert Newcomb and his tale, which he likely will not enjoy, though the experience may be quite instructive… *back to her normal self* Where were we? Ah, someone from the crowd suddenly yells out to Janus to leave Wulfgar alone, since he’s done nothing to them. Janus waves the speaker forward (what, he doesn’t have the guards bring him, he just lets him walk up? Risky!)
The man had served on the oaring deck. Twenty-Nine had never been afforded the opportunity to speak to him, for their stations had been too far removed from each other. But he did know that this slave had been one of the most quarrelsome. He had purposely given the demonslavers a great deal of trouble, sometimes even mocking them. Many of the others manning the oars had looked up to him. The grisly evidence of the demonslavers’ love for both the nine-tails and trident showed over much of his lean, hard body, and yet this man, like the slave named Wulfgar, had somehow managed to keep not only part of his strength intact, but also most of his dignity. As he walked slowly forward to face Janus, the demonslavers grudgingly made way.
Tahiri: Huh; considering how brutally the slavers treated their captives, I’m amazed they didn’t just kill this guy and replace him with someone more tractable… Janus rubs his bolas (gods, that sounded dirty…) notes that the slave is in no position to give orders, and notes that he’s talis, so his death is no loss (figures). He tells the slave to run down the docks towards the ships; if he makes it, he’ll let him go. The slave, disbelieving, turns to run… while Janus draws his bolas and starts winding them up. We get way too much description of the slave running and the bolas spinning, and then Janus lets fly.
The weapon wheeled unerringly toward the running slave. He never had a chance. The midpoint of the checkered line caught him in the back of the neck. Instantaneously the lines on either side wound around and around his throat. The twin spheres closed ranks, smashing with a great cracking noise into his head—one into his face, the other into the back of his skull. Blood and brain matter exploded from his crushed cranium, and he crashed to the ground just before reaching the end of the pier. A hush came over the crowd.
Tahiri: *looking queasy* Well, that was… horrible.
Blood Matters: 43
Dastardly Deeds: 20
Gratuitous Grimdark: 10
Irinali: Well, it’s not over yet, as the slave groans – remarkable, considering his skull was crushed and his brain is leaking out, what kind of magic is in those bolas? – and Janus confirms he’s still alive, for the moment. He goes over to retrieve his weapon as the slave breathes his last, cleans it off, then comments that “I think it safe to say he no longer has the head for this business!” And he gave a sarcastic laugh. The slavers standing near him broke into raucous laughter. Oh, that was revolting. Not the death – honestly, the man was dead the moment he spoke up – but the joke. You’re dressed like a clown, Janus; surely you can do better than that. Twenty-Nine stares down at his hands in disgust and anger, while one of the slavers asks Janus what they should do with the body (hmm; I’d think they’d have a policy for that already, so I strongly suspect this is choreographed for the slaves’ benefit). Janus, in turn, takes the opening to monologue.
“Hear me!” Janus shouted. “For those others of you who might defy us, know that what happened to this slave is perhaps the most lenient of consequences. There exist far more ingenious methods of obtaining your cooperation, I assure you! Your loved ones back in Eutracia know you are gone, but have absolutely no idea of where you have been taken. Nor shall they ever. Rescue is quite impossible. And should any of you be thinking of plotting an escape, also know that you are on an island. Should you try to leave us, only death awaits you in these waters. Allow me to demonstrate!”
Irinali: And so, he orders the slavers to cut the body into pieces, then throw it into the water. The slavers do so, and then Janus commands the slaves to watch and wait. After a moment, something starts happening.
An area of the sea surface started to glow with the color azure. It began to writhe and churn. Deepening whirlpools, each several meters across, could be seen forming in various spots on the gloomy sea of the subterranean harbor. Everyone stood transfixed, waiting to see what would happen next. And then, almost as if with a single mind, the crowd recoiled. From the midst of the azure whirlpools, squat, menacing heads silently began rising up out of the sea. The long, flat skulls were covered with dark red scales. Slanted, yellow eyes, with vertical black irises, darted from side to side as the heads turned menacingly this way and that, searching for whatever had disturbed the surface of the sea. Several of them began slithering hungrily toward the pieces of severed corpse, portions of their long, smooth bodies intermittently rising and submerging as they went. Their strangely forked tails rose silently from the water, only to submerge again. In the center of their backs a spiny fin occasionally swept up in a gentle curve only to fall again, to lie against the sinuous spine. Dozens of them were rising silently to the surface now, slithering over and under one another, writhing and twisting in the dark sea. The only sound was their eager hissing.
Tahiri: Eh, I’ve seen worse. You should see what sorts of watch creatures the Yuuzhan Vong use; not a lot that’s impressive after that.
Dastardly Deeds: 22
Tahiri: So, the creatures start tearing into the remains and gobble them down; once they’re done, they sink back into the water, leaving only the slave’s loincloth behind (well, they’re… thorough, I’ll give them that!). Smiling, the Harlequin turned back to the gaping crowd. “They are called sea slitherers,” he said. “Created by my esteemed master. They number in the thousands, and completely surround the waters of these isles. As I said, escape is impossible.” *rolling her eyes* First “demonslavers,” now “sea slitherers?” Do you people just name your creatures after what they do in the most generic way possible? Say what you will about the Yuuzhan Vong, they can at least turn a phrase… Twenty-Nine notes that after this display, Wulfgar seems to have given up struggling and is just standing passively in the arms of the slavers holding him; Janus says they’ve had enough fun for the afternoon (seriously?) and tells the slavers again to take him to Krassus’s quarters, and that they’ll answer to Krassus himself if anything happens to him. Meanwhile, the parchment with his blood signature is to be secured in the scriptorium and the consuls are to keep processing the vermin, since they have two more ships coming in soon. I mean… you all found the man you want, but I guess an operation like this has plenty of need for more slaves? *she shudders*
Dastardly Deeds: 23
Gratuitous Grimdark: 11
Irinali: And so, the slavers haul off Wulfgar, and then a moment later they get the rest moving, including Twenty-Nine, leading them to a pair of stairways marked Talis and R’Talis; as Twenty-Nine is shoved up the Talis stair, he looks around to Wulfgar, hoping to give him a look of encouragement, but Wulfgar is already gone (ooh, is that symbolic? Is Newcomb actually that clever? Probably not!). And so, the slavers force Twenty-Nine up the stairs, and the chapter comes to an end.
MG: This chapter… I’m of two minds about. On the one hand, it accomplishes what it needs to and gets the plot moving properly – we know the slavers are working for Krassus (which we could have already guessed, but now we have explicit confirmation), we know the Harlequin’s name, we know they’ve found Wulfgar and have some idea of what they’re doing with him. On the other hand, we have a lot of exposition that retreads stuff we learned last time, we highlighted some very uncomfortable elements of Janus’s character, a lot of it seemed to exist just to highlight how evil Janus is, and “demonslavers” and especially “sea slitherers” are very silly names. All told… it’s far from the worst thing Newcomb’s ever written, but the bar there is not very high. Anyway, that’s it for today! Next time, we check back in with our “heroes” as they begin an investigation. Our counts stand at:
Blood Matters: 44
Contrivances and Coincidences: 5
Dastardly Deeds: 23
Exposition Intrusion: 36
Gender Wars: 10
Gratuitous Grimdark: 11
Plot-Induced Stupidity: 14
Protagonist-Centered Morality: 14
Retcons and Revelations: 9
