Paksworld

I’ve been talking about the new new book, book two of the current group, but as I was prowling through book one, Oath of Fealty, checking for continuity on something,  I was reminded of the thinking I did about how people felt when Kieri disappeared from their lives.

It’s no surprise to Paks readers that Kieri goes off to become the king of Lyonya…and in Oath of Gold, there’s no time to consider what that means for those he left.   Years back, I bought a book of Walter Scott’s poetry in a used bookstore (yes, I had a thing for Scotland, and Scott, and so on) and one poem in particular struck a chord, though I’m not sure why.  It’s a lament for  a lost leader.

What I remember of it (since the book is in a stack somewhere) is this:  “He is gone on the mountain, he is lost to the forest, Like a summer-dried fountain, when our need was the sorest…”    And this sense of shocked, bewildered loss is what Kieri’s people feel.   They deal with it in different ways, only some of which are shown in that book.  Cracolnya, for instance, captain of the mixed cohort, is seen only briefly…but his reaction is straight from his horse-nomad roots…he takes his personal retirement stash out from its hiding place and starts wearing it under his clothes.   Just in case.    (Will it save him from a poisoned dart in book three or four?  Maybe.)

Arcolin and Dorrin will have their previously stable relationship with each other upset, as well as their relationship with Kieri.   Over the years (and even early) Kieri hired some potential captains who worked out and some who didn’t.  Arcolin became senior by both seniority and ability…Dorrin was second in seniority but not in ability.   Yet they were not rivals–Dorrin never sought to take Arcolin’s place in Kieri’s regard.   Kieri valued each in different ways–but he knew more of Dorrin than he let on to Arcolin.    And the two captains respected each other.

Dorrin was always celibate; Arcolin was not, as a younger man, but then fell for someone who did not reciprocate.   For some years he pined after this person and ignored everyone else, but he did have occasional liaisons–intentionally casual on both sides–after.    Losing Kieri as a focus for the loyalty both have as a major personality trait sends them in different directions…Arcolin finally gives up his hope that, after all, the woman he’s loved so long may love him, and starts thinking about finding a wife and starting a family.    Dorrin transfers loyalty to Tsaia’s new king, with what will be interesting consequences.   (Her loyalty is not romantic love, by the way–she’s too old for that and he’s too young–it’s a matter of honor.)

Speaking of Tsaia’s new king (well–not king yet in the first part of book one, but near to it)–he’s lost a trusted advisor when Kieri goes away.   Here’s a young man–enthusiastic, hopeful, wanting to be a good king, eager to be out from under the control of his Regency Council and yet realizing (because he’s not stupid) that he doesn’t know everything yet.   Because of family history, he’s trusted Kieri in spite of the distrust of other peers (going back: Kieri as a young man saved his father’s bacon.)    But Kieri as a fellow monarch,  rather than a loyal vassal, is a different animal altogether–or so it feels after the shock wears off.

The soldiers in the Duke’s Company are all younger than Kieri (some of the veterans are as old, but they’re not active now)  and thus have always known it that way–as Kieri’s.   After the upheaval of the past year or so, with no campaign in the South, and Kieri suddenly allowing Girdish Marshals on his domain–with the resulting departure of those who dislike Gird–those remaining in the Company are unsettled and resistant to any more change.

Then of course there’s Lyonya–the Lyonyans wanted a king, but they were used to tamer ones than they got.