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Following a commentary on a semi-judicial proceeding, “Family” begins with Fitz and company returning to Buckkeep Castle, their progress to that point described. Fitz does not take the journey well, and he does not receive the news of a royal summons well when it reaches him. He takes some time to respond to it and appear as bidden.

When Fitz reports as ordered, he finds the Farseers in array awaiting him, as well as Hap Gladheart and the children of Burrich and Molly, their arrangement described. Soon after, the Fool is led in, as well, and Dutiful calls proceedings to order. The announcement is made to the family that Bee is lost, and Fitz is called upon to report how events have come to that pass. He does, in detail, falling to his knees as he does so. After, the family begins to grieve, and Fitz is surprised to find his kin reaching out to comfort him amid his grief, feeling himself to blame for all that has befallen.

After a too-brief time of offering up shorn hair in token of grief and commiserating with Fitz, the assembled Farseers and others begin to disperse. Dutiful leaves Kettricken and Fitz last, and Kettricken refuses to allow Fitz to vanish once again, bidding him escort her to her rooms. He does so, and she tends to him, dosing him with a soporific and noting the justice of it.

Fitz wakes in Kettricken’s bed in the morning after commiserating with her in the night, and they part. Fitz proceeds thence through the hidden passages of the castle to rejoin the Fool, with whom he confers about how to proceed. Their talk is interrupted by the delivery of a message summoning Fitz to another meeting with Dutiful, and as they part, Fitz and the Fool make mention of the latter’s lost fingertips.

The prefatory materials in the present chapter present another of the callbacks to earlier materials that my nerdy self appreciates seeing. The prefatories make reference to the use of a duel before the Witness Stones to determine justice, something long established as practice in the Six Duchies (see here). In my comments on the early depiction of the practice, I do raise some questions about it; the practice of judicial dueling is fraught, at best. Consequently, with the present chapter’s prefatory materials adding to those questions (one Kitney Moss, accused of murder, maintained his innocence despite appearing to be on the losing end of a judicial duel before the Stones, and dashed into them, inadvertently using one as a Skill-pillar despite a lack of training or understanding, and disappeared, with later circumstances bearing out his innocence), I find myself pleased; even within the milieu, the accuracy of the judicial duel is suspect, and I remain egotist enough to like to be proven right (usually; there have been times I’ve wished I’d been wrong).

Similarly, I appreciate being right about Dwalia’s glove from before. I am less pleased, however, that that pleasure reminds me that it’d been too long since I’d read the book; I’m running into things and only dimly remembering them, if at all, and then taking delight as if I’ve discovered something that I’d already seen before.

Also similar to the preface in referring back to the earlier parts of the Realm of the Elderlings corpus is the shearing and burning of hair as a token of grief. It is mentioned in the first depicted interaction between Fitz and the Fool, if memory serves (see here), and it does reappear throughout the series (as noted here). Again, my nerdy self delights in such consistencies, which I know are not easy to maintain across decades and series and thousands of pages; that they are, here and elsewhere in the Realm of the Elderlings corpus, is part of why I keep coming back to Robin Hobb, again and again.

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A letter from the Duke of Farrow to King Dutiful that complains of dragons’ depredations precedes “Repercussions.” The chapter opens with Fitz struck still as Shine relates the events of Bee’s further abduction. Lant arrives, and Shine turns her attentions to him briefly before Riddle redirects her, prodding her to take the group back to the Skill-pillar into which Bee had been taken. Shine rails against the idea, and the relationship between her and Lant is let slip.

Shine is shaken by the revelation, and the decision is made to follow her trail back to the Skill-pillar. Foxglove, under orders, takes Shine in hand, and Fitz, Riddle, and Lant backtrack her, followed by Perseverance. Riddle asks Fitz about the siblings and receives confirmation, and Lant asks and is answered about his half-sister’s situation. As they go, they find Shine’s trail and are able to follow it, if with difficulty, finding the site from which Shine had fled–and the Skill-pillar. When Fitz attempts to use it, knowing where it emerges, he is unable to due to being under the influence of elfbark and delvenbark–Outislander elfbark of particular potency. He rages at his incapacity until Riddle takes him in hand. Fitz dispatches Fleeter and Perseverance to Buckkeep with a message for Nettle, with Riddle and Lant to follow behind. Other orders are given, and Fitz prepares to keep vigil.

As Fitz waits, he ruminates bitterly, and he is terse with his soldiers as they arrive and set up camp. They are wary of him, having evidently heard of his tricks, and he is largely sleepless. He greets Nettle when she arrives and takes matters in charge, sending a coterie through the Skill-pillar to find no sign of Bee or her captors. The outlook is poor, and when a quiet Riddle and Nettle retire, a silent Fitz remains awake in the night.

Something I only noticed as I was looking back through my rereading to insert appropriate references into this part of it is that discussion of Shine’s parentage and Lant’s occurs in chapters 13. I have no way to know if this was deliberate, of course, and whether it is or not does not much matter; what does matter is that the coincidence or construction makes a pointed, morbid joke; the circumstances making their attraction unlucky are presented at symbolically unlucky times. I’d not noticed it before, as reported, but I am glad to have noticed it now; it’s the kind of textual detail that delights me and many others who go into literary study and upon which I’ve remarked at times (for example here and here), the little bit of sometimes dark humor that rewards careful attention and revisiting a text–and that reminds even a careful reader that there are always more things to pull from a text worth studying.

I note another bit of wordplay at work in the chapter, as well. Two of the soldiers accompanying Fitz are named Reaper and Sawyer. Both of their names bespeak cutting, fitting enough for soldiers using spears and swords; there’s also a bit of reaping and sowing to be found, even if it takes a little squinting to see it. But since I was already either laughing or wincing from the chapter-number thing, that bit showed itself to me.

As I reread this time, as I sat to write, I found myself distracted again by Hobb’s writing. It happens often enough, I admit (and my wife can attest to it, having seen it happen more than once); I go to work on this stuff and get swept away again by the writing. I look up, and an hour or two have passed that I had meant to put to other uses…and I do not know that I can regret it. But then, you’d expect that from someone who’s been going about this as long as I have and who looks to keep on going with it…

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Following Dwalia’s comments about Prilkop, “Aftermath” begins with Fitz considering the fallout from the fight with Ellik and his few surviving subordinates. Fitz issues orders to Foxglove and his own guards, and a search for Bee and Shine ensues. As Fitz goes about his part of it, Riddle assists him and confronts him about Lant and about his own inclusion in the drugged group Fitz had left behind, and, after some discussion, the two are accorded.

The results of Fitz’s and Riddle’s search are noted, and they are unhelpful. The pair call at nearby Ringhill Keep, which is described as they receive accommodations. Fitz, drug-addled, muddles through the meal, after which he and Riddle are taken aside by the resident Skill-user and informed that they are to return to Buckkeep with all due haste. Fitz apologizes to Riddle for having led to his rebuke, which apology Riddle sets aside, and the pair prepare to return to face Nettle and Dufitul.

The next morning, Fitz, Riddle, Lant, and Perseverance set out for Buckkeep, Fitz’s guard in tow. Reports of the previous night are offered, and Lant voices his complaints to Fitz for ill-treatment. As they proceed, Fitz and Riddle confer, and discord breaks out among the guard. They also find Shine along the way, and Fitz learns to his sorrow that Bee has been taken through a Skill-pillar.

The introductory material to the chapter once again attracts my attention. I find it interesting that Dwalia describes Prilkop as “the Black Prophet,” a description echoing that under which he was introduced to the Realm of the Elderlings corpus (see here and here). I find it also interesting that the description comes amid commentary that casts some aspersion onto Prilkop: “Since he was discovered as a natural-born rather than bred at Clerres, his time at our school was too short to be certain of his loyalty” (523). Both lead me once again to think about Manichean allegory at work, as well as the ways in which portions of the Realm of the Elderlings seem to me to refigure early US experience (about which some comments are here). I imagine that some additional updates to my earlier work will be in order, and I imagine also that I may have to review some of my older notes to reground myself in some of the prevailing theoretical discourses in which I’d need to work to follow up on this particular set of scholarly somedays.

There’s some there there.

In any event, the text of the main chapter is relatively brief, some thirteen pages in the printing I have (I really need to sit down for a while with a cohesive print-run of the Elderlings novels; there’s something in the chapter-lengths). It reads to me as being a pivot, separated out from other materials for sense and to allow greater focus on other events but still needing more development than a simple gloss would permit. Fitz’s recognition of his errors, his faults, and the ways in which those faults impact both others and the regard others have for him deserves attention, certainly, and I am put in mind of “filler episodes” in a number of television series. I note that many such episodes become some of the most favorite, though, as they tend to permit the kind of character development that receives much approval and that, frankly, many “literary” novels focus on.

I’m not upset to see it.

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Another content warning for the chapter: discussion of child abuse / neglect, torture.

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After a Servant’s commentary about the Fool, one noting his youthful intransigence and certain measures attempted and suggested to address the same, “The Glove” returns to Bee and Shun as they flee the fracas between the Servants and their Chalcedean hirelings. Shun directs Bee as they flee, and they come at last to take a tentative rest. A cold night passes for them.

In the morning, Bee and Shun press on after some disagreement about what path to take and why. They proceed with difficulty and in cold hunger, and Shun divulges some of her personal history. Bee ruminates on it as she takes a turn breaking trail for Shun, and they come at last to a place to rest for the evening.

Bee wakes in the night, prompted by the echo of Nighteyes within her. One of the Chalcedean hirelings, Kerf, approaches in seeming kindness, offering escort and food. Kerf relates some of his own history and makes to attend to Bee and Shun, and they sleep.

The next day dawns with Kerf providing more food for Bee and Shun, and the trio set out again. Reluctantly, Bee and Shun follow Kerf as he leads them along, and they realize that he has led them back to Dwalia under Vindeliar’s power. Dwalia takes them in hand, noting the end of Bee’s deception, and she bids them be taken through a Skill-pillar. Bee acts, allowing Shun to slip free before she is dragged into the stone of the portal.

The present chapter does quite a bit. For one thing, in its prefatory materials, it brings back to mind the ways in which the Fool had been marked by those in Clerres, tattooed in his youth. In the earlier discussion of those marks, the Fool reports them as inflicted in an attempt to render him not-White. (As I write the words, I recall some earlier comments that motion towards Hobb’s use of tattooing as a trope, and I have to wonder about Manichean allegory and race politics–more scholarly somedays, I think.) While he might well have recalled them as thus inspired, the broader issues of control that are reported in the prefatory materials remain…chilling.

It’s not the only thing in the present chapter that is so. Aside from the weather depicted, there is a more to indicate the ruthlessness of the Servants and their ilk in dealing with those who resist them. As Dwalia and her company prepare to take Bee through the Skill-pillar, she produced “a single strange glove. [Bee] could not tell what it was made from. The hand of it was pale and thing, almost translucent, but to three of its fingertips a shriveled silvery button had been attached” (521). Another of the injuries inflicted on the Fool is accounted for in the description; in Fool’s Assassin, Chapter 30, Fitz notes when he surveys the Fool’s injuries after stabbing him that the fingers with which he had touched the Skill had been damaged, the magic-tinged tips taken away. It would seem they found another home–a macabre little touch that I do not think I caught in my earlier readings.

It’s a good sign when a book gives you something new upon rereading.

Another note, and on another topic entirely: I’ve remarked many times before about Hobb’s use of emblematic names in the Elderlings novels, something overtly discussed as at work among the higher social strata of the Six Duchies and seemingly present among other social groups in the milieu, as well. With that, I have to reflect on Kerf, whose name Merriam-Webster reports as meaning either “a slit or notch made by a saw or cutting torch” or “a slit or notch made by a saw or cutting torch.” In either event, the name indicates that something is missing because it has been removed, and I have to think, given the character’s self-report of his personal history and what has been done to him both by his native society and by Vindeliar at Dwalia’s command, it is an apt name.

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Got another content warning on this chapter: torture.

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Following a report to Chade that discusses the end of Andronicus Kent and the ascent of Chassim, “Red Snow” begins with Fitz and Fleeter proceeding at speed, Fitz detailing their progress through the night and into the dawn. He notes passing “a rare shrine to Eda” (474) as he and his horse move ahead, and Fitz tries to puzzle out his quarry’s path. His thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of the crow, Motley, who croaks out a warning that Fitz heeds, and he is more cautious as he approaches the remnants of violence.

Fitz surveys the scene, searching for Bee and finding no sign of her. Fleeter’s sudden fatigue reaches Fitz through the Wit, and though he sees to her, he still hardens himself as the assassin he had been trained to be, reflecting on the quiet work he did for Shrewd. Fitz skulks through the terrain, considering implications of the evidence that presents itself to his senses, and he finds the results of the fracas that had broken out between the Servants and the Chalcedeans.

Fitz also finds there are survivors, and he watches for a time before advancing with fatal intent. Seeing the spoils of his own home on display, he questions one of them, Ellik, and secures his person before settling in to extract information. It is forthcoming, and it details how the Chalcedeans were hired and brought into the Six Duchies to effect the raid on Withywoods. It also details the lead-up to the violence that had erupted, and the escape Dwalia and Vindeliar had achieved. It does not report on Bee and Shine.

Securing Ellik, Fitz moves to confront another Chalcedean. He is not more merciful with him, and what he learns confirms what Ellik told him. And then he is beset by Ellik, melee ensuing until interrupted by the onrush of fleeing Chalcedeans and Six Duchies soldiers in pursuit. Perseverance is among them, and his untrained efforts save Fitz from death at Ellik’s hand. The general melee is soon concluded, and Fitz commands a search be organized in haste.

The mention of the shrine early in the present chapter brings to mind some work I have done explicating how Hobb works with concepts of medieval religion in the Realm of the Elderlings corpus. (The short answer is “not a whole lot, but not not at all.” The actual answer is more complex, as the paper bears out.) I am a bit embarrassed to admit that I had missed in the paper the mention of the shrine in the present chapter, as well as its description: “The goddess slumbered under a mantle of white snow, her hands open on her lap. Someone had brushed her hands clean and filled them with millet. Small birds perched on her fingers and thumbs” (474). I’m sure there is something to trace out in the description–there’s enough medievalist resonances in the Disney princesses the shrine’s description evoke that something could be plumbed–but I think it would not be something to stand on its own. Perhaps if I were to rework the conference paper into a longer piece…but that’s just another scholarly someday for me.

I note that Hobb returns again to the theme of torture that pervades her work–and not only her Elderlings corpus, as this rereading series will hopefully address at some point; it factors into the Soldier Son series, as well as some of the out-of-series works such as are in the Warriors anthology edited by Martin and Dozois. A quick glance at available scholarship–which reminds me that I need to do more to update the Fedwren Project–suggests that there is some attention being paid to the topic, which I am glad to see (even as I am somewhat jealous that I’m not the person doing the work). I’m not seeing an extended, systematic study, however, although I will concede that that might be simply a matter of my not having / taking the time to look more closely through the available scholarship at this point. I think I have already noted that such a project is among my many scholarly somedays; I should do so if I haven’t already. Perhaps, as things slow down a bit for me in my “real” life and in the more formal scholarly work that I am, somehow, still doing, I will have time to attend to some of them.

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This chapter contains sexual violence.

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After an excerpt from Bee’s dream journal, “Parting Ways” begins with Bee musing on changes among her abductors in the wake of Vindeliar’s suborning. The Chalcedeans’ ingratiation with Vindeliar is tracked as they test his abilities and begin to exploit them for themselves, and the threat under which Bee and the others operate with Dwalia out of power is made clear. Within Bee, the echo of Nighteyes she carries urges caution and calm, and she observes as the Chalcedeans fall once again into depravity. Dwalia attempts to redeem her people, but the Chalcedeans refuse, and amid the ensuing fracas, Bee and Shun attempt escape.

The present chapter is another relatively brief one, some ten pages in the edition of the novel I am reading, and I once again think I need to see about looking at a cohesive printing of the Elderlings corpus to see if there is, in fact, some pattern at work. I know I keep mentioning it, and there is a part of me that longs to simply spend the money on it…but I think it might be better either to visit a library or make an arrangement with a bookstore to so such a thing than to buy another sixteen novels that I already own. As it is, I have multiple copies of some of the works, and there’s at least one other that I’d like to buy, correcting a mistake I had the opportunity not to make. I am not so well funded as I might like (although, if you’d like to help, there’s a link below you can use for that purpose), so I would have to do some working-around to make that kind of thing happen.

As far as the content of the present chapter goes, though, I do not know that I can say much. If there is, as I have suggested might be the case, some reference going on to a real-world Odessa, I am not sure what to make of it at this point. It cannot be a pleasant one, given what befalls the thus-named character in the text, and I do not feel at ease explicating the violence being worked out upon her, even if it is somewhat “off-screen,” noted as occurring but not explicitly depicted. Hobb does not shy away from overt presentations of violence elsewhere in her work, as I well know, and she has been direct in presenting sexual violence elsewhere in the Elderlings corpus; Kennit’s violation of Althea comes to mind as one example, but it is not the only one. So I am uncertain what the import of the specific presentation of violence here is, although I expect there has to be one. As others have pointed out with great eloquence, and as I recall telling my students in those receding days when I had them, every word on the page is placed deliberately, and it is placed with the knowledge and consent of several people by the very nature of publishing. Something is at work, even if I and others cannot necessarily say what it is at any given moment…

More scholarly somedays, I suppose.

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An extended commentary on a fragmentary Skill-scroll precedes “Bonds and Ties,” which opens with Fitz enjoying riding a new horse and not enjoying the attempt by the same–Fleeter–to Wit-bond with him. Fitz assesses his combat capabilities as Fleeter presses upon him, and Fitz’s name in the Wit, Changer, comes to attention again as Lant and Perseverance join them. Fitz also does not enjoy the added company and attempts to get the others to leave, but they refuse and determine to accompany him despite his urgency. Nor yet is he thrilled that Motley joins and decides to like Perseverance, nor yet when Riddle later joins the growing throng–although Riddle, at least, seems aware of the complications the expanding group presents.

With warning that they will not wait for the others, Fitz and Riddle press ahead, Fitz settling into the saddle atop Fleeter and acknowledging her quality as a mount; Perseverance does a decent job of keeping up, and Lant lags behind. At the end of the day, the group chance upon a barn and make use of it, conferring as they tend to themselves and their animals. Fitz surreptitiously doses the group’s tea with a soporific, apologizing for doing so as they fall asleep, and after a brief rest of his own, he doses himself and Fleeter with carris seed, musing on what he has seen of its perils. After ensuring that his erstwhile companions will be well, Fitz also doses himself with delvenbark, and he and Fleeter proceed into the dark.

The prefatory materials once again catch my interest. Describing a damaged manuscript and the circumstances of its damage, the prefatory materials bring to my medievalist-trained mind the various manuscripts of the Cotton Library, damaged by flame and thrown out into the snow–those that were not lost, entirely. Even now, some of those manuscripts continue to degrade from the effects of the flames, chemical changes to their materials put into motion and ongoing, unstoppable, ultimately irredeemable. Knowing as I do about some of what survived, I have to wonder what was lost and will now never be found again, and a great sorrow wells up within me at the works of scribal hands and cunning minds lost to chance and misfortune. How much worse must it be to contemplate deliberate destruction!

But it’s not like that kind of thing happens anymore, right?

In the chapter, itself, I note with some appreciation the juxtaposition of Fitz’s recognition of his (physical) deconditioning and his seemingly easy resumption of his assassin’s tricks; he notes the fatigue he feels after a single day of hard riding, when he had before gone days or weeks in the wild with relative ease, and he has little hesitation about drugging his comrades–and does so without being noticed by someone also trained to stealth and skullduggery (Riddle being long implied to have some such schooling). Something about old age and treachery comes to mind, and, as I feel my (fewer than Fitz’s) years while I’m writing this, there is some comfort in it for me.

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Following an excerpt from anonymous instructions to an assassin, “Confrontations” begins with Lant reporting to the Farseer elite, as well as Rosemary and Ash. Fitz reflects on Lant’s account to that point, and he speaks in Lant’s favor as Dutiful dismisses him. Discussion follows Lant’s departure, and Fitz finds himself unexpectedly tasked with seeing if any of the guards from the company that had acted ill are worth redeeming.

Fitz later confers with the Fool about the situation, which conversation is interrupted by a Skilled summons from Nettle. Fitz excuses himself from the Fool to answer it, Motley accompanying him.

Answering the summons, Fitz reports to the Queen’s Garden, where Civil Bresinga delivers tidings of Bee and Shun. Old Blood folk and their animals had noted strange movements of people, corroborated by Skill-deadened agents, leaving the Farseers with the evident intended destination of Bee and Shun’s captors. Dutiful lays out his plans, and he offers Fitz a place of honor but not one of aid, reminding Fitz who is in command of matters.

Fitz fumes silently at how he has been maneuvered, and more at the correctness of those who have done so. Thus fuming, he purposes to call upon Chade, only to find Steady there and Chade asleep. Steady confers with Fitz briefly until a stirring Chade interrupts, bidding him go retrieve their daughters. And Fitz then moves to do just that, giving directives to Foxglove and others. Foxglove gives a frank report of unit readiness, and Fitz moves off with some self-doubt to address the task of the disgraced guards. That, however, he manages neatly, if brusquely.

So much done, Fitz returns to the Fool, preparing to dose himself with elfbark and outfit himself for a covert expedition. The Fool reports his dreams as Fitz makes his preparations and excuses himself; Fitz runs into Lant on his way out, and Lant purposes to accompany him. Fitz is direct with him, urging Lant to remain behind, but it is clear he will not stay in Buckkeep.

Fitz then rejoins Foxglove, reviewing their augmented forces. Afterwards, he makes to tend to his horse, where Perseverance meets him, and they talk together briefly.

The present chapter, just after midway through the book in the printing I am reading, has a lot going on, a lot of smaller moving parts. In terms of structure, it suggests an acceleration towards the climax of Freytag’s pyramid, that the pivotal action for this novel–and perhaps for the trilogy, given that the novel is the second member of it–approaches. And in terms of content, it suggests that Fitz, despite his greater years and experience, remains the headstrong, passionate boy he was at the death of Shrewd decades before, seeking to rush ahead because he knows better than those who bear responsibility and have both more information and clearer heads than he. I am not certain whether to be delighted at the consistency of characterization or annoyed that Fitz seems not to have learned lessons that have been literally (and, yes, I do intend the pun, here) beaten into him across years–but it seems to me as I consider it that the fact to that uncertainty is an artifact of my engagement with the text, and that would seem to argue for the narrative’s effectiveness, at least with this reader.

Admittedly, such an assertion ranges once again into reading with affect; I have lost track of the number of times in this rereading series that I have found myself reading affectively, reading through my emotional reactions to the text rather than calmly applying one particular critical lens or another to it. Were I still in academe, it would be more of a problem than it presently is; as it is now, I am not much writing for classroom audiences (although I do still have the impression that some student or another reads what I write here and uses it for some schoolroom purpose or another–which is not a problem, although it would be nice to hear from those who do so). Were I in more practice than I have allowed myself to be, I might look at the present chapter through some more formal rubric than the “reader-response” that I (over-) generously label myself as using. But, alas, I am not in more practice than I am, even with the source- or reception-focused approaches that tended to undergird my scholarship when I made claims to doing it. Other major approaches do not suggest themselves to me at the moment, either, which may just be an artifact of my hammering this out between other jobs or may well be a symptom of my critical faculties atrophying.

Or it may be that this is another of my scholarly somedays, a project waiting for attention and to which I will return in time. I can hope for as much, for both the inspiration of how to treat it and the time to treat it well enough to suit myself–and maybe others. There is some comfort in that, at least.

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This is one of the chapters that needs a content warning: references to sexual violence.

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Following reported commentary by Dwalia about the induction of forgetfulness and neglect, “Vindeliar” returns to Bee, noting the remarks by those around her of her improving condition and her uncertainty about the same. The progress of Dwalia’s party across is glossed, and disagreement emerges between Dwalia and Ellik about how to proceed further. Shun notices Bee’s observations and advises her against the appearance of the same, and Bee attends closely as Dwalia exploits Vindeliar’s abilities to persuade Ellik.

Progress continues, and Bee and Shun confer covertly about possible escape. When Dwalia presses Bee for conversation, she replies with reference to the futures she has seen, attempting to turn conversation, and Dwalia upbraids her for doing so. Ellik hears the upset occasioned and intervenes, determining to turn matters to his will. Vindeliar being then absent, he succeeds, and he comprehends that it is Vindeliar’s influence that has allowed Dwalia to retain command. That situation, he moves to address.

The present chapter recalls the cartoonish evil of Chalced, in which Ellik had participated at high level. Thinking back on my earlier impressions, such as I can recall them at this point, I had originally understood Chalced to be an antagonistic but not necessarily “evil” nation-state; the presentation in the Rain Wilds novels was something of an immersion-breaker for me, as I gesture towards in my rereading comments. In the present chapter, which reminds readers of the slavery practices and rampant misogyny at work in Chalced, the evils of that nation-state seem more “real,” although I cannot determine whether my reaction is to the overt presentation, the contrast with earlier work, or my inability to read the text without awareness of the broader context in which I do the reading this time around.

I do find some interest in the construction and its comparison to that of Clerres, however. While the situation in Clerres is not yet directly presented in the text–readers at this point have the Fool’s report, which may well be understood to be biased–they do have the actions of the Servants, both with Bee and with the messengers the Fool had dispatched to Fitz (here and here). While the Elderlings novels as a whole call into question the degree to which any agent of a given nation-state can be said to represent that nation-state as a whole, and while it is certainly the case that the Six Duchies is hardly an innocent place if its agents can be taken to any degree as being representative, Dwalia and her company do not give a good presentation of Clerres even if the Fool’s report can be set aside as biased. The question of which nation-state, Chalced or Clerres, is more evil is one that the chapter gestures towards, and a ponerological study might well be worth undertaking.

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Read the next entry in the series here.

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After in-milieu commentary warning of the dangers of travel through the Skill-pillars that might have been useful to characters earlier, “Marking Time” opens with Fitz searching for an outlet for his emotions, taking training alongside his new guard unit to find it. Foxglove reluctantly allows it, giving Fitz some warning, but he persists and regrets it. Afterward, he is confronted by Burrich’s son Steady, who rebukes Fitz for letting his despair flow out into the world, and as Fitz follows the younger man’s direction, the pair discuss Chade’s situation and what led up to it, as well as Steady’s own regrets regarding Bee. The risks Chade had taken are explicated, and Steady asks Fitz for the particularly strong Outislander elfbark. Fitz provides it, and after Steady takes his leave, he reviews Bee’s writings that he has brought with him, recognizing her power for prophecy as he does so.

The next days pass unpleasantly for Fitz, who finds himself caught between hope for Bee and fear for her. He works to navigate his restored identity as a prince of the realm, and he calls on Chade, finding him responsive but largely absent. Steady intervenes as Fitz presses his mentor, glossing the retrieval and analysis of information from where it had been sequestered. It is cold comfort, and Fitz soothes himself with thoughts of murder.

Fitz continues to wait for news and to check on the Fool, whom Spark / Ash attends. Fitz finds himself recalling his and the Fool’s shared youth, and the Fool reports some improvement. Ash reports Chade’s decline, and the three confer about what will become of Ash if Chade dies. The Fool presses Fitz to go to Clerres, and he demurs, citing his ongoing instability in the Skill and his continuing expectation of news of Bee. The Fool avers that Bee will accompany them both to the destruction of Clerres, will indeed conduct them thither, which Fitz rejects. The Fool then advises Fitz about what they will face, and Fitz begins to question whether he can enact the destruction for which the Fool has called. A discussion of logistics ensues, and Fitz asks Ash to help him with his own stitches as a means of forestalling more talk.

More time passes, and Fitz continues to work to regain his combat skills. At length, Thick and Lant return with soldiers who will be discommended, and Thick reports mistreatment at their hands. Lant receives direction and correction, and Perseverance, who had accompanied the group from Buckkeep, is taken aside to give report. Fitz accepts the boy’s report and commends him to the care of one of the senior stable staff, offering a final set of instructions to him.

The present chapter is slightly longer than normal, some twenty-five pages in the edition I have of the novel. I am reminded once again that I need to take a look at a cohesive print-run of the Elderlings novels to see if there is some pattern of chapter-length at work in them and, if there is, what significance that pattern has for the corpus. It remains among my scholarly somedays, things to which I look with some yearning even as I question whether I ought to maintain any pretense of scholarship, being as many years out of academe as I am. But then, given what all is happening in and to academe as I sit and write this, perhaps my small works here and in a few other places–yes, I do still have some stuff going on, about which I expect to write more later–are among what will be regarded as the last vestiges of what might have been a tradition. Or maybe they will be sparks from which some new flame is kindled to warm the heart and light the mind, but I am probably unreasonably vain to think such thoughts and write them where others are apt to see them.

As often before, I find myself reading with no small degree of affect. I expect this is something deliberately constructed, of course; the Eight Deadly Words being a thing, its inverse would be seen as desirable, and “relatability” is something that many readers look for in what they read. While I dislike the term–I don’t know why, but something about it strikes me as insipid, although I recognize it is my own taste at work and not something “wrong” with the word itself–I acknowledge that readers are far from wrong to look to see themselves reflected in what they read, and I acknowledge that so much is true for other media, as well. Representation matters, of course, and people should see themselves represented in the media available to them, just as they well ought to see and be led to empathize with those different from themselves. And while I am fortunate not to have been in the position of waiting for news of my own daughter as she languishes in captivity, I have been anxious to learn how my daughter has fared and impatient with the delay in news reaching me, chafing at my inability to do anything in the moment to make things better for her and chastising myself for my failures with her. And I find, like Fitz, that there is some use in knowing that others have done as much and more; even if it is not a comfort–and it is not; that others feel poorly does not make a poor feeling rich–it is good to have a reminder that others have done things and thus that we can also do them.

There is much to do, ever and always. Having the reminder that what needs doing can be done, one of the many things that a good read offers, is thus a welcome thing.

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