Gapi general in Emerald Queens army
Gert old crone/charcoal burner met by Erik and Roo
Goodwin, Billy prisoner; later member of Caliss company
Greylock, Owen Swordmaster of Baron of Darkmoor; later member of Caliss company
Grindle, Helmut merchant
Handy, Jerome member of Caliss company
Jarwa Sha-shahan of the Seven Nations of the Saaur
Jatuk son of Jarwa, heir and later Sha-shahan of the surviving Saaur
Kaba Shieldbearer to Jarwa
Kelka corporal in Nahoots company
Khali-shi Novindus name for Death Goddess
Lalial elf in Elvandar
Lender, Sebastian Litigator and Solicitor at Barrets Coffee House in Krondor
Lims-Kragma Death Goddess
Macros the Black legendary sorcerer; considered the greatest practitioner of magic ever known
Marsten sailor on Trenchards Revenge
Mathilda Baroness of Darkmoor
Milo Innkeeper at Inn of the Pintail in Ravensburg
Miranda mysterious friend to Calis
Monis Jarwas Shieldbearer
Mugaar horse trader in Novindus
Murtag Saaur warrior
Nakor the Isalani strange companion of Calis
Nathan new smith at Inn of the Pintail in Ravensburg
Notombi former Keshian Legionary, then prisoner; later member of Caliss company
Pug also known as Milamber; magician of great power; considered second only to Macros the Black in knowledge
Rian one of Zilas mercenaries
Rosalyn Milos daughter
Ruthia Goddess of Luck
Shati, Jadow member of Caliss company
Shila Saaur home world
Sho Pi Isalani, former Monk of Dala; later prisoner; later member of Caliss company
Taber tavern keeper in LaMut
Tarmil villager at Weanat
Tomas consort of Aglaranna, father of Calis; wearer of the Armor of Ashen-Shugar, last of the Dragon Lords
Tyndal smith at Inn of the Pintail in Ravensburg
von Darkmoor, Erik bastard son of the Baron von Darkmoor; later prisoner; later mercenary in Caliss company
von Darkmoor, Manfred youngest son of Otto; later Baron
von Darkmoor, Otto Baron of Darkmoor; father of Erik, Stefan, and Manfred
von Darkmoor, Stefan Ottos eldest son
Zila treacherous mercenary leader
Maps
Book One Eriks Tale
Days, when the ball of our vision
Had eagles that flew unabashed to sun;
When the grasp on the bow was decision.
And arrow and hand and eye were one;
When the Pleasures, like waves to a swimmer,
Came heaving for rapture ahead!
Invoke them, they dwindle, they glimmer
As lights over mounds of the dead.
George Meredith
Ode to Youth in Memory
Prologue Deliverance
The drums thundered.
Warriors of the Saaur sang their battle chants, preparing for the struggle to come. Tattered war banners hung limply from bloodied lances as thick smoke shrouded the sky from horizon to horizon. Green faces marked with yellow and red paint watched the western skies, where fires cast crimson and ocher light against the black shroud of smoke, blocking the vanishing sun and the familiar tapestry of the western evening stars.
Jarwa, Sha-shahan of the Seven Nations, Ruler of the Empire of Grass, Lord of the Nine Oceans, could not tear his gaze away from the destruction. All day he had watched the great fires burn, and even across the vast distance the howls of the victors and the cries of their victims had carried through the afternoon. Winds that once carried the sweet scent of flowers or the rich aroma of spices from the market now carried the acrid stench of charred wood and burned flesh. He knew without looking that those behind were bracing for the coming trial, resigned in their hearts that the battle was lost and the race would die.
My lord, said Kaba, his Shieldbearer and lifelong companion.
Jarwa turned to his oldest friend and saw the concern etched faintly around his eyes. Kaba was an unreadable mask to all but Jarwa; the Sha-shahan could read him as a shaman reads a lore scroll. What is it?
The Pantathian is here.
Jarwa nodded, but he remained motionless. Powerful hands closed in frustration over the hilt of his battle-sword, Tual-masok Blood Drinker in the ancient tongue far more a symbol of office than the crown he had worn only on rare state occasions. He pushed its point down into the soil of his beloved Tabar, the oldest nation on the world of Shila. For seventeen years he had fought the invaders as they had driven his hordes back to the heartland of the Empire of Grass.
When he had taken the sword of the Sha-shahan while still a youth, warriors of Saaur had passed in review, filling the ancient stone causeway that spanned the Takador Narrows, the channel connecting the Takador Sea and the Castak Ocean. One hundred riders a century side by side, rode past, one hundred centuries to a jatar: ten thousand warriors. Ten jatar to a host, and ten host to a horde. At the height of his power, seven hordes answered Jarwas battle horns, seven million warriors. Always on the move, their horses grazed the Empire of Grass, while children grew to adulthood playing and fighting among the ancient wagons and tents of the Saaur, stretching from the city of Cibul to the farthest frontier, ten thousand miles distant; it was an empire so vast that teams of horses and riders, never stopping their gallop, would take a full turning of the moon and half again to ride from the capital to the frontier, twice that from one border to the other.
Each season, one horde rested near the capital, while the others moved along the frontiers of the great nation, ensuring the peace by conquering all who refused tribute. Along the shores of the nine great oceans, a thousand cities sent food, riches, and slaves to the court of the Sha-shahan. And once a ten-year, the champions of the seven hordes gathered for the great games at Cibul, ancient capital of the Empire of Grass. Over the span of centuries. the Saaur had gathered all of Shila under the Sha-shahans banner, all but the most distant nations on the far side of the world. It was Jarwas dream to be the Sha-shahan who at last realized the dream of his ancestors, to bring the last city into the Empire and rule the entire world.