Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here.

---

The next chapter, “Piracy,” opens with Wintrow observing from the deck of the Vivacia as Kennit coordinates with Sorcor aboard the Marietta to seize another passing ship. Kennit exhorts the ship to the pursuit, and Wintrow considers the lead-up to it; the ship being pursued, the Crosspatch, had boasted of being able to evade Kennit and continue working as an elite slaver, and Kennit could not resist the open challenge.

Action to seize the Crosspatch ensues, with most of the work done by the crew of the Marietta, Wintrow having warned of the peril of spilling more blood on the liveship’s decks. The former priest frets somewhat about the carnage he watches alongside Kennit, but the pirate captain replies with strangely philosophical musings that give Wintrow pause. The pirates take the slaver, and Kennit commands Wintrow to accompany him to survey the takings.

In Bingtown, Althea makes for the Paragon, considering the liveship in a new way after seeing the gifts Amber had provided. She takes in the alterations to and maintenance on the craft as she joins Brashen and Amber–and the freed slave, Clef–aboard. Once all are gathered and the parts others have played are noted, they confer with the ship about the possibility of undertaking the mission to recover the Vivacia. The ship is hesitant, but Amis Ludluck, the ostensible owner of the ship, accompanies them in the discussion, as does Restart. She affirms the sale of him to them, explaining herself bitterly. Restart receives his fee, and he and Amis withdraw. Clef moves to comfort the sullen ship.

Aboard the Crosspatch, Sorcor reports to Kennit as the latter boards and surveys the taken ship. Wintrow accompanies him on his slow tour of the seized vessel. Some of the slaves aboard aver a desire to be delivered to their intended purchaser, and Kennit opines on the evils of slavery. He and Wintrow also confer briefly about the latter’s future; Wintrow affirms his bond to the Vivacia.

That night, as the three ships sail off for Divvytown, Kennit rehearses the aftermath of the day’s actions. Etta prepares herself for Kennit and approaches Wintrow, where he sits with an injured crewman near the Vivacia‘s figurehead. They confer briefly, and Etta moves to Kennit, who confers with the ship about their plans. Shortly after, Kennit and Etta retire to his cabin for an intimate interlude.

Later, Wintrow reports to Kennit the death of the injured crewman. After dismissing the boy, Kennit confers with the charm on his wrist, which rebukes him for how he uses those around him. It is a bitter, unpleasant conversation, and it bodes ill for Wintrow.

The chapter does much to reaffirm Kennit’s manipulative nature, reminding the reader that Kennit is not a good person by any standard. It also does somewhat to highlight the problems with attempting to use intellectual argument to prevail upon a corrupt person; Wintrow searches for a flaw in Kennit’s arguments, only to have more piled upon him before he can adequately refute the points made–and it is not because Wintrow cannot make the argument, but because Kennit does not care about the flaws in his own reasoning. He is, rather, interested in having his will prevail–and in a way that leads Wintrow along, rather than occasioning overt resistance. It is the kind of thin veneer of intellectualism that is often prized among the disingenuous and discriminatory, a papering-over of vileness that more people would do far better to attend to than currently do.

Help me start this year off right?

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series soon.

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A chapter titled “Aftermath” follows, opening with Althea delivering Restart back to his home. It is a pleasant experience for neither of them, with Althea having to take charge of the situation while Restart fumbles about ineptly. He makes some noises of gratitude, provoking sharp rebuke from Althea for his trafficking in slaves; Restart begrudgingly releases one from his service.

Meanwhile, Keffria considers a portrait she had had made of her husband, as well as the relationship she had had with him. She realizes she does not love the man, if she ever had, and muses on the parallels between him and Althea before making to join Ronica in what had been her father’s study. They are interrupted by Brashen calling on the house, accompanied by Amber; they purpose to speak about reclaiming the Vivacia. Keffria is uncomfortable at their arrival, but Ronica sees them in just as Althea arrives back at the Vestrit house.

Althea is accompanied by Restart’s former slave, a stable boy, as she mulls over her situation and her failures. Her physical condition is remarked upon, and she upbraids Brashen before moving off to bathe. Ronica overrules her dismissal of Trell, however, and discussion ensues after Althea washes and re-dresses in haste. Brashen and Amber voice a plan to purchase the Paragon, crew the ship, and sail off to reclaim the Vivacia. Althea opposes the plan, but the newly-arrived Malta asks about it. Objections to and concerns about the plan are voiced and addressed. Many center on expenses, with Malta pleasantly surprising Ronica by asking about them–and surprising the lot of them similarly by affirming her willingness to wed Reyn in the interest of staving off the debts owed to the Khuprus family.

Amid the planning, Brashen also notes the unrest at the Bingtown waterfront that the Vestrits had missed. Grag Tenira had been involved and has vanished, though not unhappily. And planning to retrieve the Vivacia continues, with the former slave volunteering to sail on the mission. Others begin to accept roles in the plan, and people begin to retire for the evening.

Althea delivering Restart home and taking command of his household when she arrives rings of a misogynistic trope that has received no small amount of attention: masculine domestic ineptitude. Also called creative incompetence or strategic incompetence, and related to learned helplessness, the pattern speaks to the perceived infantilization of men when it comes to doing domestic tasks such as are involved in maintaining a household. (Notably, Althea “suddenly felt [Restart] needed to be treated like a child” as she sees about directing his household.) That is, men are depicted–and, per no few comments, enact the depiction–as having no ability to manage household chores (unless, of course, there is some overt gain in it). The pattern obliges others to “take care” of them, in effect subordinating them–and while it is certainly the case that some people are truly unable to care for themselves, and others may negotiate divisions of labor within committed reciprocal relationships, the pattern often extends outside such sensible bounds–as is the case with Restart.

Help me move more confidently into the new year?

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here.

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The next chapter, “Wishes Fulfilled,” opens aboard the Vivacia, with Wintrow grilling Kennit regarding the fate of the ship’s previous captain. Kennit deflects the inquiries, reminding Wintrow that he had asked his father be spared and put out of the way, before sharply returning to a voice of command. As Wintrow serves him at table, Kennit reflects upon his condition and recent exertions before dismissing Wintrow to commune with the ship.

Wintrow confronts the Vivacia regarding her silence as her former captain was spirited away. The ship replies that she is glad to be free of him–and that Wintrow should be similarly glad. They turn their discussion to their relationships with one another and with Kennit, the ship urging Wintrow to draw closer to the pirate captain. As she is doing.

In Bingtown, Althea retrieves and considers her formal Trader’s clothing. She also rehearses the events of the day, and she muses on Brashen and Grag, both. Not long after, she and Malta confer, surprisingly amicably, regarding their conveyance to the coming meeting; Davad Restart is not entirely pleasing to either of them. When he arrives, Althea and Malta join Ronica and Keffria in swiftly entering his carriage and getting underway. Talk along the way is distractedly polite, in the main, and Restart reports the rumor that the Satrap is himself bound for Bingtown.

There is some tumult as they arrive at the Traders’ Concourse, and Althea is rocked by her brief conversation with Grag. She is similarly unsettled to find Brashen and Amber present. Being seated with the Teniras and welcomed openly by them does not help matters amid the pre-meeting politicking. The meeting is called to order and business conducted, eventually reaching the Teniras’ concerns regarding tariffs. Discussion is heated, and Althea interjects herself into it forcefully; not all are pleased at it, though some are, and Althea is ejected from the meeting.

Outside the meeting, Althea finds Restart’s carriage vandalized. Other Traders emerge from the now-recessed meeting, seeing the vandalization and isolating Restart; Althea pleads to help the man, though others argue against it, and she ends up driving him home.

Of note in the present chapter is the Vestrit women’s travel to the Traders’ meeting with Restart. There is much in the passage that rings of quiet toleration of repugnance because of long practice and familiarity; it reads to me of the “Oh, that’s just his way; he doesn’t mean any harm by it” that is too often used to cover over speech and behavior that should be rebuked in the old no less than the young, and perhaps more in the beloved and befriended than in the stranger. And it does highlight the tension inherent in confronting those who have been and still are helpful and friendly when they do and say things that bespeak inattention and disregard for human dignity. Is it cowardly not to make an open confrontation from a position of disadvantage?

Send a holiday present my way?

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here.

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The following chapter, “Marooned,” begins with Kennit moving to follow through on a promise. The progress of his recovery and adaptation to his amputation is noted, as is the status of the crew of the captured Vivacia. The ship itself quizzes Kennit on his intentions, and he deflects the conversation as he goes about his intention, collecting Sa’Adar, the former captain, and a few others of those freed from enslavement aboard the Vivacia.

The group takes the captain’s gig out to a hidden bay on a nearby island. The former captain attempts escape after making landfall, but he is quickly subdued and restrained. Kennit leads the group with some difficulty up a path to a small settlement where Kennit announces himself–to his mother. He surveys her situation and briefs her on what he has brought along–harshly. And when his announcements report that he is leaving the former captain–imprisoned, but alive–in the settlement as part of a promise to Wintrow, the boy’s father rages against his son. Kennit rebukes him sharply and tours the small settlement again, beset by memories. Some of his past–ruined by the pirate Igrot–emerges as he considers what was his childhood home.

As Kennit orders the former captain’s restraint, the latter asks for the pirate’s demands. Kennit reports that he has none, although he muses on possibilities as the other man is shackled and shut away. And he finds himself pleased when he returns to his mother, sitting to a brief meal before making to head out again. Sa’Adar resists being left behind, although he accedes to Kennit’s request for a blessing on his mother. When the two rejoin at the gig, Kennit is able to convince the priest to help him launch the boat; the pirate does not, however, help the priest into the craft, though Sa’Adar does heave himself in. After a tense conversation, Kennit pitches the priest into the sea and kills him. The charm on his wrist speaks wryly to him after, but Kennit sets it aside.

The nods towards Kennit’s past in the present chapter might smack of the kind of sympathy-building exercise I’ve noted elsewhere but for the fact that Kennit remains an asshole even with his mother–something for which he is rebuked, to no avail, in the text. The pirate, though clearly wronged, is not in the right, and he seems to acknowledge his error unapologetically; the Freduian excuse is not.

In truth, I am not certain how to feel about the chapter. I enjoyed rereading it, of course; there is a reason I keep coming back to Hobb, after all. And I appreciate the character development accorded to Kennit; while it does not excuse or justify his actions, the glimpse of his personal past provided does deepen and enrich the character, thus the milieu in which he exists. But, again, the man is clearly evil, and following him so closely is…not entirely comfortable. Then again, comfort is never guaranteed, and it is not always good…and there is hope in that I remain (at least) uneasy against the presentation of what is wrong…

There’s a week left; help out?

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here.

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The next chapter, “Taking Charge,” begins with Althea retreating from Brashen’s exit from the Vestrit home. She muses on their shared circumstances and the paths that have led Brashen back to his home port, noting the changes that have occurred in herself and positing that similar amounts of change are likely to have befallen the Vivacia. And she watches from a window as Brashen departs.

In the middle of that night, Malta sneaks from her room to meet with Brashen’s younger siblings, Cerwin and Delo. She mulls over the family’s situation and purposes, filled with romantic ideas, to enlist the aid of others, beginning with Cerwin. She rehearses to them the situation of the captured Vivacia, even as her opinion of Cerwin falls against what she has learned of his brother, and as she blatantly manipulates him (above Delo’s objections, it must be noted) towards aligning with her family in the coming Traders’ Council meeting. He agrees, but the form of his agreement surprises Malta, to the disappointment of her romantic ideas. As the three return to their homes, Malta considers what she perceives as Cerwin’s deficiencies against Brashen–and Brashen’s evident interest in Althea.

For his own part, Brashen exits the tavern where he had found dinner and considers his situation. He decides to abandon the Springeve, and he mulls over his experience with the Vestrit women–including Malta. His thoughts, predictably, are most on Althea, and his feet take him back to the Paragon, where Amber stands ready to the ship’s defense. The ship recognizes Brashen, though, and introduces the sailor and carver to each other. After a brief argument, Amber informs Brashen of changes that have occurred in his absence, and Brashen rehearses his news of the Vivacia. The talk sends the Paragon into a strange, painful episode, and Brashen and Amber withdraw to continue conversing. Amber waxes philosophical, and Brashen retreats–toward Bingtown and away from the ship.

When she returns to her room, Malta seeks to reach out to Reyn again. The effort is futile, and she longs for her father’s return. Reyn, however, struggles in his own dreams against a voice in his mind that pleads for release. He considers what he knows of wizardwood and its origins as cocoons for strange beings: dragons. His thoughts turn at length to Malta, and they join in dream at last. She relates the news about her father and the Vivacia, imploring his help; he demurs, and the dragon that has harangued Reyn interjects, prompting Reyn to explain much, but not all, before the dream fades–and the dragon’s voice in Reyn’s mind does not.

One thing that the chapter points out–and there are other things to take from the text–is that the expectations a person may have of people from attending to tales are not apt to be fulfilled. This is something of an interesting message to receive from an author who focuses on verisimilitude in her fantastic writing; the in-text and out-of-text comments seem to be at odds with one another. That does not mean it the in-text message is without precedent, however; Don Quixote, for example, is a warning against overindulgence in genre fiction and romantic ideas, and there are many others to be found. And it must be remembered that Malta, despite her protestations of womanhood, remains an adolescent, and one who has led a relatively sheltered, certainly upper-class life; inexperience in the young is excusable, particularly as it falls away.

Friend, can you spare a dime? A nickel? Hell, even a penny?

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here.

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The chapter that follows, “Tidings,” begins with the Vestrit women at work in the household. Althea excuses herself to go into town; Malta asks if she is going to see Amber, which Althea notes she is, and the issue of them being lovers is brought up. Althea denies it vehemently and storms off; Malta delights in having occasioned the reaction, while Ronica stalks off in disgust. With them gone, Malta mulls over her situation and purposes to be in control and command of herself before considering a meeting with another potential suitor.

Elsewhere, Althea confers with Grag Tenira about Malta. He reports progress on the matter of the tariffs, as well as on the Ophelia; the latter goes well, with Amber being remarkably flexible and proficient in the work of repairing and restoring the figurehead. He also notes there’s been no word of the Vivacia, though he continues to ask. Local politics also get some attention in their conversation, and Althea finds herself thinking of Brashen Trell.

Brashen, dressed well and clean, reports to the Vestrit home. Malta greets him, sneeringly, and a tense exchange ensues before he recognizes her and notes that he has news to deliver. As she stalks off to get a runner to her mother and grandmother, Brashen mulls over the changes he sees and considers Althea’s likely disposition.

Following her conversation with Grag, Althea calls on Amber. The two confer, and Amber repeats back to Althea some of her own words from the conversation with Grag. The two confer about Althea’s desires, and Amber notes the gender dynamics that inhibit Althea’s achieving them. Sexual ethics also receive some comment.

Malta returns to Brashen, treating him with better manners, and Brashen begins to feel uncomfortable with her as they discuss his siblings. His addiction to cindin tells upon him; he is distracted, and not only by Malta’s coquettishness. When he tries to excuse himself, realizing somewhat belatedly what she is doing, he almost runs into Ronica and Keffria, who have returned. He reports to them the capture of the Vivacia by Kennit, offering what information he has available. It does not do the Vestrit women any good, nor yet does Althea’s brash entrance with Malta rebuked for eavesdropping. A fracas ensues, although it is soon quelled, and the family confers as to how to proceed.

The chapter is an excellent one for the feminist critique that pervades the Liveship Traders novels; the discussion between Althea and Amber is a frank and largely open treatment of one of the major concerns of such discourse. It also works as a striking counterpoint to the issue of the previous chapter; Althea is not nearly so constrained in her choices as Serilla is, and without the overt threats that the latter faces, but she is still very much confined by prevailing gender dynamics. One message to take away is that even the more genteel restrictions are just that; they force people to be other than they are, diminishing them all–and all of us.

I’d still love your help!

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here.

A content warning (sexual violence) is in order for the present chapter.

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The next chapter, “Serilla’s Choice,” begins with the titular Serilla confined below decks on a refitted barge, seasick as she and the barge proceed with the Satrap towards Bingtown. She muses on her circumstances and situation, as well as those of the Satrap and his preferred Companion–a concubine, rather than an advisor, as Serilla is. The Satrap fares particularly poorly in the assessment, and not only Serilla’s.

Serilla also considers the retinue that accompanies the Satrap; it is extensive and seems calculated to inflame tensions. It also seems to be a means for getting the Satrap away from power, so others might take it. And it gives the Satrap permission to indulge himself and his baser desires without having to be concerned about appearances. This becomes apparent when he threatens to have her raped by the crew of the barge if she will not sate his desires; she refuses the Satrap and is cast to the crew.

The Satrap has not been a sympathetic character prior to this point, certainly; he follows the model Hobb establishes in Regal, exchanging fratricide for satyriasis but otherwise being very much in the line of rulership as doing what he wants. The present chapter, though, pushes Cosgo from being unsympathetic into irredeemable. It will not matter what he does henceforth; the stain of his actions will no more clean from him than the spot from Lady Macbeth’s hands (and there is, at times, a motion to reclaim such characters, as I have noted elsewhere). And it is easy to read a commentary into the chapter, as has been the case with many other such; Serilla’s choice echoes what many see a learned woman faces amid the restrictions of toxic masculinities at work in the world.

It is not her work to right the wrong or to prevent it. And the rest of us need to do better about that work. Far, far better.

Care to support your local struggling scholar?

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here.

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The following chapter, “Interlude,” begins with the serpent Shreever musing on the status of Mauklin’s group. She, Mauklin, and Sessurea alone remain of their original gathering; they are joined by other serpents gone feral as they press northward. Maulkin weakens and grows depressed. One of the feral serpents rises above the water and sings, and Maulklin suddenly grapples therewith, finding that a core of consciousness remains within.

Through more struggle, the three are able to reawaken that consciousness; the serpent recalls his name, Tellur. Slowly, the other feral serpents also return to consciousness, naming themselves–Kelaro and Sylic. After orienting themselves, they agree to align themselves to Maulkin and to press on in search of a serpent who actually remembers what it is they are supposed to do to do more than simply survive in the flesh.

The chapters that focus on the serpents tend to be shorter than those that focus on more human characters. There is sense in this; the minds of non-human sentients would necessarily be less accessible, their actions less understandable, than those of humans to human readers. At the same time, the non-human intelligences are at work in Hobb’s literary world, and it is not good to disregard them. Showing their workings in brief serves to remind readers that there is more going on than the social upheavals clearly at work in Bingtown, in Jamaillia, and between them, while not going so far afield from them that readers lose a sense of narrative and understanding.

More people would do well to recognize that other minds are at work in the world.

It’s only a few weeks until Christmas; send me a present?

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here.

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The next chapter, “Portrait of Vivacia,” begins with Brashen looking on as his captain dickers with Sincure Faldin away from Divvytown. As he does, he muses on a recent incident of violence he had had to enact against a crewman who was stealing from the ship. He also reflects on his captain’s bargaining tactics and the strangeness of putting in along the Cursed Shores, noting mentally the ways in which they live up to the name.

As the dickering continues, Brashen considers the charts he has been making in secret and the knowledge of the waters his captain has as his own security. He also reflects on the tales he had been told of pirate settlements, seeing them now in truth when he had doubted them before. Too, he recognizes among the offerings a portrait of the liveship Vivacia that had once hung in Althea’s cabin aboard the ship. His interest in the painting and the memories it evokes in him attracts attention, and Brashen deflects adeptly, finding himself getting a report about Kennit and his activities in the Pirate Isles. Faldin invites Brashen’s captain to his warehouse in Divvytown, noting that Kennit is like to put in there soon, and the captain tentatively accepts.

Elsewhere, Wintrow marvels at the speed and skill with which the Vivacia is being restored after her struggles. Sorcor and Etta are commanding, intimidating presences aboard the ship as she is repairs. Wintrow muses on them briefly before taking food to and conversing with his father, who rebukes and upbraids him. Wintrow withdraws, somewhat shaken, and is soon after confronted by Sa’Adar. The priest attempts to persuade Wintrow to his cause once again; Wintrow refuses, violently.

Kennit regards himself and his situation as he continues to convalesce. The slow recovery annoys him, and the ship steadies him as Wintrow comes to call. Kennit is eased by his presence and asks after his tattoos. Wintrow’s answers reveal much before he makes to treat Kennit’s amputation. In the continuing conversation, Kennit finds a strangely revelatory scrap of wisdom and seems to return to himself. He orders Wintrow to help him make himself ready, and Wintrow obeys. So does Etta when she, summoned, arrives.

Brashen and the ship on which he is mate arrive in Divvytown. He recognizes the Vivacia at anchor there, and he tries to persuade his captain to travel to Bingtown after; the captain demurs. He also thinks he sees Althea aboard the ship, but that is soon and decisively belied.

There is quite a bit going on in the chapter. The mention that the Vivacia is not the first liveship to be turned pirate is something portentous, certainly, as is the confirmation to Brashen of the Vivacia‘s situation. So, too, is the tension with both Wintrow’s father and Sa’Adar; both have presented themselves as needing removal, and it might be noted that both, in displaying what appear to be symptoms of mental illness (although it is, of course, always fraught to diagnose characters in novels from what the narrator depicts of them), and both retreating under some compulsion into isolation, offer a comment on the treatment of those with mental health conditions. Working in a closely parallel field–substance use disorder treatment is classes as behavioral health, as distinct from but often related to and funded alongside mental health–I am aware that, even now, treatment is other than optimal, not least because of stigma. Whether the present chapter reinforces or speaks against the stigma is an open question, one that might well be worth discussing.

Help me make it to the end of the year?

Read the previous entry in the series here.
Read the next entry in the series here.

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The succeeding chapter, “Judgment,” begins with Keffria fuming to Ronica about Althea’s conduct, Malta looking on. The girl pipes up, complaining of the quiet in the wake of the Rain Wild Traders’ departure and of Ronica’s quiet rebukes. She complains of Reyn’s assertions, and, after a few more quips, the three lapse into silence.

Elsewhere in town, Althea eats with Amber and continues to relate her tale. She lays out her greater purposes–ending slavery, effecting Bingtown’s independence–and presses Althea for more information. They drink together, heavily, and talk turns to Althea’s intimate liaisons, then to the Paragon, liveships, and the Rain Wilds.

After a bit of tension, Amber goes on to explicate the situation of the Satrap. Something lodges in Althea’s mind, and she excuses herself back to her family home–where Malta indulges fantasies of being fought over as she waits with Keffria and Ronica for her return. Said return startles the three, and bickering ensues until Ronica quashes it with an overt explication of the Vestrits’ financial situation. After, however, discord reemerges. Ronica brokers peace again, and Malta seethes at her perceived exclusion and the seeming threat to her father.

Despite the sneering, conniving tone Malta’s perspective takes, she is not wrong in noting that Althea seems to be self-serving. Nor yet is Keffria wrong to note the dismissal of her husband by her family. Nor still is Ronica wrong in working to secure and stabilize her family. Nor, indeed, is Althea wrong to assert herself and seek to hold others to their sworn word.

But neither are they all in the right–which makes for no small part of the fun of reading. Malta approaches her situation as a game, trusting that her father will make things right for her even as he would likely readily agree to marry her off for the wealth of the Rain Wilds. Keffria fails to recognize her husband’s failures and shortcomings, as well as to assert herself and take up her rightful place. Althea is more concerned with herself than with the greater good of the family. And Ronica erred in not teaching her daughters better earlier.

One of the things that Hobb does well is to move away from the stereotypical depiction of characters; hers are nuanced, flawed, humane (even when they are not necessarily human), and that makes them more “real” than many. I would venture to say more so than in her lauded-as-realistic contemporaries, although I might be expected to be biased in such matters due to my own academic history. Still, it is the nuance and integration of things that allows for so much to take place in the novels, giving those who would carry out interpretive work more to do, and I appreciate it greatly.

Holidays are coming; help me face them?