Only Inda's fame is strong enough to inspire all the squabbling kingdoms to unite and raise a mighty force to protect the strait and repel the Venn. King Evred has also ordered Inda to take over the strait once the battle is won, but Inda, a former pirate, knows that this is a very bad idea. Now Inda must choose between obeying his liege or committing treason.
Treason's Shore: Book Four of Inda
and over one million other books are available for Amazon Kindle.
Learn more
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||
Book Description
Special Offers and Product Promotions
- This item is eligible for our 4-for-3 promotion. Eligible products include select Books and Home & Garden items. Buy any 4 eligible items and get the lowest-priced item free. Here's how (restrictions apply)
Frequently Bought Together
Editorial Reviews
About the Author
Sherwood Smith is a popular author of Young Adult fantasies with a devoted following.
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
As soon as word traveled inward from the perimeter patrol outside Iasca Leror’s royal city that the king’s banner had been spotted, people put down tools and lined the main street behind the city gate. When low clouds rumbling overhead brought huge splats of rain, some ducked inside doorways, but no one returned to work or home.
At last the tower and the now-visible outriders exchanged the thrilling trumpet chords announcing the return of the king. The Bell Runners enthusiastically plied the ropes, and people surged from under cover to line the streets, and began to shout and pound on hand drums.
“Evred-Harvaldar Sigun!”
“Evred-Harvaldar Sigun!”
“Evred-Harvaldar Sigun!”
The rhythmic shout gained volume as their young king rode through the city gates, tall and straight, his red hair darkened to the shade of his father’s by the rain, color emphasizing his cheekbones. They cheered him and his men all the way to the castle gates, and only when he was inside did they go back to work in small clumps, everybody laughing and cheerful. Innkeepers promised to draw an ale for everyone (many knowing that that would begin an evening of festive largesse) to cheer the northern victory as they looked forward to the stories the returning warriors would tell.
Inside the castle courtyard Evred slipped from his saddle, leaving his Runners to supervise as the last remnant of his army—the King’s Riders who guarded the city and castle—rode over to their barracks to dismount, unpack, and then reunite with families for the promised liberty.
The warm splatters of rain dotting brown circles on the honey-colored flagstones began to merge as the young queen appeared, short like Inda, her wide brown eyes and unruly brown curls so much like his. But where Inda was broad in chest and shoulder, Hadand-Gunvaer was broad in bosom and hip. She and Evred clasped hands, and the tower sentries—men and women—sent up a cheer.
“Hadand-Gunvaer Deheldegarthe!”
Deheldegarthe: a fighting queen, one who had by her own hand defended the kingdom. It, like Sigun for the king, was the highest accolade—one that must be given, never asked for.
The royal pair smiled upward, and as the rain abruptly increased walked inside together; Hadand observed her beloved’s distant gaze, and waited for him to return from wherever his thoughts had taken him.
The air was motionless and warm inside the tower, assailing Evred with familiar smells, comfortable smells, which were now free from the power to harm; his uncle and brother had receded to occasional distorted voices in dreams.
When he and Hadand reached his outer chamber, he discovered chilled wine-and-punch waiting. “Ah,” he said on a long outward breath. “How good it is to be home.”
“Your last report via the magic case stated that all is well in the north.” Hadand dropped onto a waiting mat.
Evred sat down next to her, and cradled the broad, shallow wine cup in both hands. “It is as well as can be expected. Ndand Arveas is there in the Pass, holding Castle Andahi while Cama rides back and forth from Idayago to Ghael. We’ll have to find someone to back her until Keth grows. Though she’s strong enough to hold it on her own.”
Hadand’s lips parted. She longed to say, So why don’t you make her a Jarlan, and let her pick her own Jarl? Why can’t women command castles? It seemed so obvious—especially since it had been women who had held Castle Andahi in the teeth of the entire Venn invasion, down to the last one.
But now was not the time for new ideas. She had learned through letters from women across the kingdom that most of the men who had gone north to fight (those who returned) longed to resume the old ways, the comfort of tradition.
So she turned her attention to Evred even as he studied her. Both, out of lifetime habit, tried to descry the inner workings of the other’s mind: as children they had shared everything, but time, and experience, had built personal boundaries that were difficult to surmount, despite their best intentions.
“We’ll have to establish watches all along the north coast,” Evred went on, sounding tired. “Something like Flash’s beacon system, which would have worked, had there not been treachery from within. But I’m keeping our best dragoon captains up there, headquartered at Ala Larkadhe, since my twin cousins want to swap off yearly as Jarls of Yvana-Vayir and commanders of the northern force.”
“Aren’t they young for that?” Hadand asked.“Year older than I was when I was first sent north to command,” Evred said wryly. “And yes, my authority was limited. So will theirs be, at least at first. They know Cama is under Inda in chain of command, and they report to him. They accepted it without argument. Good boys, both of them. Though Beaver never seems to stop talking.”
Hadand said, “Will they keep swapping off by year?”
“For now. I hope by the time their cousin finishes here as a horsetail and can serve as Randael at Yvana-Vayir they’ll settle it among themselves. . . if we do not have any more war.”
Hadand’s brown, unwavering gaze was so much like Inda’s—and yet not. Evred realized he was searching for Inda in Hadand’s eyes. His emotions roiled until he locked them down hard. “To finish with Ala Larkadhe, the Morvende archive in the white tower was closed to me.”
Her face changed from the tension of worry to comprehension. She knew what that archive meant to him. “Did the Morvende say anything?”
“Nothing. I permitted the archive to be used as a transport, which seems to have alerted them. But the closing was inevitable, because I dared to lead an army to war.” He tried, and failed, to keep the bitterness from his voice. “It appears that no one wishes to hear my reasons.”
Hadand poured more punch, maintaining a compassionate silence. She perceived the effort he made to relax, to look up, and around. “All seems well here.”
“Yes. But we had no war to contend with.” How it hurt her, to see the effort he made; what could she do? She had worked hard to have everything just right when he came home at last, down to his favorite foods here, now rapidly cooling.
He looked blankly at the biscuits, then up. “The war, yes. You must have questions. I know my reports were scant. Those magical boxes. I still don’t really trust them. Even if I could send a sheaf of papers instead of quarter-sheets folded small, there was still the matter of trying to find the time to write on them.”
“I have questions indeed. Beginning with the Venn surrender. What exactly happened? I’ve heard several conflicting accounts, and Inda has never written to me. Tdor says he wrote only that he was still alive.”
He frowned, yet she knew Inda was all right. Tdor had sent a message when Inda arrived safely home, that they were about to marry. And though Tdor had not written since, Hadand knew that nothing disastrous had happened, or surely, surely she would have heard.
“It really was not a surrender, though everyone believes it to have been.” He spoke slowly, hesitating between words.
She breathed in relief. The problem was obviously not Inda. Absurd to have thought it concerned him! “What exactly happened with the Venn? Are they really gone so suddenly? So many rumors have run ahead of you, and like you say, your report was scanty. I have it by heart now, I’ve read it so many times, trying to wring extra meaning from every pen stroke.”
His smile was perfunctory. “Some of those rumors began just after the battle. I did nothing to interfere with them.” Evred drank his punch down, then pressed his fingers to his temples, eyes closed. “It seemed to hearten the men to think that Durasnir, the Venn Fleet Commander, surrendered to Inda. That he and Inda fought a duel. That he knelt before me and swore allegiance. None of those things happened. He asked for a truce, said that their king was dead, and that Prince Rajnir had to sail home to claim their crown.”
“That was all?”
“There was one thing more. It was very strange. I don’t know why I did it, but I asked if they were coming back.”
“He’d lie about that, of course,” Hadand exclaimed.
“So I thought the moment the words were out.” Evred crumbled a rye biscuit without awareness of what his fingers were doing, as he thought back. “I braced for threat, or dissembling. Scorn, even. We heard none of that. You must realize first that we learned before the attack that the one we have to fear is the mage Erkric, who was using magic in aid of the war. According to Inda’s Venn lover, the Dag Signi—do you remember her?”
Hadand vividly remembered the small, older woman who had so kindly and quietly renewed all the castle magic spells for them, working all night while Evred and Inda raised the entire city to march to war. But Evred so distrusted magic that Hadand only signified assent, without speaking.
Evred said, “She told us that Dag Erkric has attempted to strike a bargain with Norsunder in an effort to learn magic that will control minds. It is possible that he has done so.”
“I find that more difficult to believe than anything,” Hadand exclaimed. “You know how I’ve been researching magic ever since I could read, but I’ve never found mention of magic—in our present time—that does that. In the days of Old...
Product Details
Would you like to update product info or give feedback on images?
|
More About the Author
I don't put much personal data on-line, but what there is can be found on my webpage under the FAQ.
Customer Reviews
|
Share your thoughts with other customers:
|
||||||||||||||||||||||
|
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
11 of 13 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Hooray for Inda!,
By Diana L. Paxson (Berkeley, CA) - See all my reviews
This review is from: Treason's Shore: Book Four of Inda (Hardcover)
I picked up the first volume, Inda, at a MythCon a couple of years ago, was immediately hooked, and rushed out to find the second book, The Fox, and then had to wait for the third book, King's Shield. When I finished rereading them all earlier this summer I had a feeling it might be time for the fourth, and was delighted to find it available for pre-order on Amazon.The Inda books are everything you want from a fantasy series--an interesting, fully-developed world with several languages, environments, and cultures that are evocatively described, a complex but not confusing plotline with a number of unexpected twists, really well-written action scenes, and above all characters whose lives you follow and whose fates you care about. She includes all the elements needed for a good solid fantasy, and deals with all of them in original ways. In Treason's Shore, all the favorite elements from the earlier books come into play. There are scenes at the training academy and a long sequence with the (ex)-pirates. Sherwood does great sea-battles, something you don't often see in contemporary fantasy. There are no cop outs and no easy answers, but the ending satisfies. What makes this book a worthy conclusion to the series is its focus on character. "Character-driven" too often means a preoccupation with the internal drama of people who weren't that interesting in the first place. In Treason's Shore, the developing conflict between Inda and Evred, two characters whom we have come to care for, transcends the physical conflict with the enemy, and we realize that even more important than winning the war is winning the peace. In the end, the real victories come not through physical strength but through communication and love.
4 of 4 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Richly Rewarding Conclusion to the Inda Saga,
By
This review is from: Treason's Shore: Book Four of Inda (Hardcover)
TREASON'S SHORE is the rich and satisfying conclusion to the epic fantasy Inda quartet. It is totally recommended that a reader start at the beginning rather than jump in with this book.Exiled from his homeland when little more than a child, Inda has grown into a brilliant military strategist. Upon his return home he was appointed as the Shield Arm to his childhood friend, Evred, now king. They faced a horrific battle against the invading might of the Venn Empire... and survived. The Venn withdraw, having internal problems of their own, but the threat they pose is still in place. Inda has some little breathing space to try and become reacquainted with the life he left years ago. There are also friends and enemies and political and personal machinations that continue to operate beyond the borders of his kingdom. The myriad people and places that have figured in Inda's life have destinies that need to be sorted out even as Inda's own future is determined. Naturally, the respite from death and danger for them all is brief and Inda is again called into action to try and save not only his country, but those lands and people bordering and buffering it, from the relentless return of the Venn. Inda needs to call upon all his knowledge, experience, and relationships if he even has a hope of success against the overwhelming forces against him. Those who have been caught up in Inda's adventures will find this last book a must-read, full of the detail of many fascinating characters and many lands and societies that have been maintained throughout the entire wonderfully long and rewarding series.
5 of 6 people found the following review helpful:
2.0 out of 5 stars
A very disappointing conclusion,
By sixquarters "Emma" (San Francisco, CA) - See all my reviews
Amazon Verified Purchase(What's this?)
This review is from: Treason's Shore: Book Four of Inda (Hardcover)
I was so ready to like this book. The first book hooked me, the second one compelled me, the third one worried me, but hell, I thought, plenty of series work that way, I'm sure it'll be fine. She'll pull something out at the last minute, she'll streamline down the plots and viewpoints; everything will fall into place.Well, I've been trying to finish this book nobly for a week now, but I'm done, because right there in the middle of my Kindle edition we have this gem: "Inda resolutely stayed silent. No one had ever called him a liar before; there was a disturbing sense that every word he spoke somehow twisted in the air, turning into some other word before it reached her ears." It's an evocative description that is deeply, deeply indicative of everything that has gone wrong with these books. First of all, as far as I can tell, Smith wrote the third and especially the fourth books of these series without rereading the first two and possibly without any set of references at all except the map at the start. Because the entire plot of Inda and The Fox was that people called Inda a liar, starting with the Harskialdna and the entirety of Iasca Leror's legal system, continuing through Ryala Pim and Wafri, sailing madly on past everyone Ryala Pim ever talks to, which -- due to the way Smith eagerly connects every single character to every other character -- ends up being almost 100% of the cast. He really ought to be used to it by now. This is the worst factual divergence, but there's also the fact that Durasnir and his men "all knew that dags were mostly useless in war, in spite of those rumored death spells" when the whole third book is one long distillation of the idea that dags are terrifying weapons when used as weapons, and that's why they shouldn't go to war; the way that Evred goes white-hot with rage when he hears Inda and Tdor call Tenthen home, three to five years after they've moved into his castle and devoted their entire lives to defending him and his; the way that Taumad spends the first three books torn up inside because he can't find his mom, and then sees his mom and is like "okay cool bye". In some cases she devotes pages and pages to re-explaining something that worked fine the first time around (the time she's forgotten about). Cap'n Han and the Andahi castle people can't figure out how to keep prisoners because Marlovans never have, for instance, even though in the first book Cherry-Stripe and the scrubs won't shut up about how they have to decide whether or not to keep prisoners in their war games because it's soooo much wooooork. My personal, meaningless favorite is the way that Smith can't decide whether or not a specific set of scroll cases have been lost, broken, tampered with, discarded, set aside due to misuse, or none of the above. When compared to you Connie Willis looks like a friend of easy, trouble-free communication, you have done something terribly wrong with your magic Facebook. Second of all, EVEN IF NONE OF THAT HAD EVER HAPPENED, Inda is 27 at this point (he's 32 in Earth years, but we can ignore that if you want.) He has a wife, a child, a lover, a king who is creepily devoted to him, years and years of teaching experience, and the long practice with duplicity that being a PIRATE KING has given him. And yet emotionally processing lying like it's a new thing? I mean, if you want to give him a pass because of his (stated to be autistic-spectrum) difficulties with social interaction, and I invite you to do so, compare it to the way Evred, for example, thinks about the letter Taumad writes him as his spy. Evred, an adult king with years of governance under his belt, spends two or three pages puzzling over the concept of having his trade spy communicate with him in referential code. I don't care how "straightforward" and "direct" you think Marlovans naturally are -- this is a far, far cry from the first book, where Tdor at the age of eleven is communicating in multiple levels of metaphor and subterfuge with Hadand in the city and Farlas-Iofre at home. Hadand, who trained Evred herself in statecraft. This is the second trend: a backsliding into YA. Look, I love YA. I am totally down for it. But this series supposedly isn't YA -- and it makes absolutely no sense for these characters to be less emotionally intelligent in their twenties and thirties than they were in their teens. It certainly doesn't make any sense at all that Evred, Hadand, and Tdor are experiencing the pangs of hormonal jealousy and crushes more intensely at the age of 30 than at the age of 14. At the age of 14 Evred deals with the grief of losing Inda -- perhaps not particularly rationally or well, but hell, he deals with it. At the age of 30 he is incapable of dealing even a little bit with the obviously vitally important rage produced by Inda using the word "home" about a place that isn't Evred's bedroom. At the age of 14 Tdor can think with nuance on the fact that she'll never consider her birth family to be her real home again; at the age of 30 Tdor's narration awkwardly shoves it aside by saying that Iofre's her mother figure (we knew that) and that she'd just stopped writing to her actual mother (we certainly didn't know that, since last time we heard anything about her mother, she was the only person in all of Tdor's family who still gave a crap about her.) This would be just barely acceptable in the first book about these characters, if it was written for twelve-year-olds. Under the circumstances, it's exhausting. There are other problems. The pacing is aimless and weird. I really do not understand what the heck happened that Smith thought it was appropriate to describe the Chwahir as "platter-faced" almost every single time any one of them is mentioned. I also don't understand why Smith has developed some kind of allergy to resolving love polygons. (No one has ever, outside of middle school hate books, cared THIS MUCH about anyone's jealousy.) But I could've put up with pretty much anything else if I hadn't been asked to believe that the characters I've been reading about for hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of pages are suddenly much younger, totally disconnected from their previous history, and punting the idiot ball back and forth like they're playing an enthusiastic game of soccer.
Share your thoughts with other customers: Create your own review
|
|
Inside This Book
(learn more)
Browse and search another edition of this book.
Browse and search another edition of this book.
What Other Items Do Customers Buy After Viewing This Item?
Tags Customers Associate with This Product(What's this?)Click on a tag to find related items, discussions, and people.
|
Customer Discussions
|
This product's forum
Active discussions in related forums
Search Customer Discussions
|
Related forums
|
