When First We Practise

Xenon

Description

Eugenia, the niece of the new, tyrannical Emperor, observes a battle against the rebels. It does not turn out as anticipated. She decides to manipulate her captor, Telamon, to regain her freedom, but manipulation is a two-edged sword. When First We Practise is set in an imaginary world based loosely on a classical Greek milieu, though transported to a northern temperate zone and with women playing a much more independent role than in classical antiquity. It is the third of a series of ten novels that cover a period of about seventy-five years.It is set two years after the conclusion of What Dreams May Come, during the Mykerenaean Rebellion against the tyrannical rule of the Troian Emperor Laomedon. After freeing Mykerenos, the rebels are preparing to advance from their mountain fastnesses through the Boreas Pass and into the Central Plain.

Sujets

• Fantasy (canción de Mariah Carey)
• Historical fantasy
• Fantasy

Informations

• Publié par: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Date de parution: 11 novembre 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781800467996
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 2 Mo

Extrait

Copyright © 2021 Xenon

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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ISBN 9781800467996

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Matador is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd

For Jenny, as always.
Also for a fantastic editor, Dale Stromberg of Stromberg Literary, who has done so much to improve this book.
CONTENTS
PREFACE

ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-THREE
THIRTY-FOUR
THIRTY-FIVE
THIRTY-SIX
THIRTY-SEVEN
THIRTY-EIGHT
THIRTY-NINE
FORTY
FORTY-ONE
FORTY-TWO
FORTY-THREE
FORTY-FOUR
FORTY-FIVE
FORTY-SIX
FORTY-SEVEN
FORTY-EIGHT
FORTY-NINE
FIFTY
FIFTY-ONE
FIFTY-TWO
FIFTY-THREE
FIFTY-FOUR
FIFTY-FIVE
FIFTY-SIX
FIFTY-SEVEN
FIFTY-EIGHT
FIFTY-NINE
SIXTY
SIXTY-ONE
SIXTY-TWO
SIXTY-THREE
SIXTY-FOUR
SIXTY-FIVE
SIXTY-SIX
SIXTY-SEVEN
SIXTY-EIGHT
SIXTY-NINE
SEVENTY
SEVENTY-ONE
SEVENTY-TWO
SEVENTY-THREE
SEVENTY-FOUR
SEVENTY-FIVE
SEVENTY-SIX
SEVENTY-SEVEN
SEVENTY-EIGHT
SEVENTY-NINE
EIGHTY
EIGHTY-ONE
EIGHTY-TWO
EIGHTY-THREE
EIGHTY-FOUR
EIGHTY-FIVE
EIGHTY-SIX
EIGHTY-SEVEN
EIGHTY-EIGHT
EIGHTY-NINE

AFTERWORD
GLOSSARY
MAJOR CHARACTERS
MINOR CHARACTERS
MEASUREMENT
RANKS IN THE GEAN ARMY
COMMANDS IN THE NAVY
THE CHRONICLES OF GEA
PREFACE
W hen First We Practise is set in an imaginary world based loosely on a classical Greek milieu, though transported to a northern temperate zone and with women playing a much more independent role than in classical antiquity. It is the third of a series of ten novels that cover a period of about seventy-five years.
The land of Gea is largely an ethnic, linguistic and cultural unity, though not a political one. Its history is one of intermittent warfare between its fifteen independent states and with the surrounding countries. The last sixty years have seen an irresistible rise to domination by the most powerful of the states, Troia, which now rules almost the whole of the land from its capital, Ilios, as the Troian Empire. The once independent states are ruled by satraps, appointed directly by the Emperor.
The Geans are culturally and militarily advanced, and this is a time of innovation and experiment. Their strength has long been in the hoplite, a heavily armoured close order infantryman. Hoplites fight in a disciplined line with shield and long thrusting spear; but the much more powerful phalanx, deeper and with longer spears, is coming into its own. Cavalry, with the introduction of the stirrup, is increasingly important as a strike force. Light javelin-armed infantry, called peltastes, and missile troops, or psiloi, play a supporting role. The army has a complex command structure, based on ektatoi, equivalent to modern non-commissioned officers, of whom the most important is the feared hyperetes, best regarded as a sergeant-major, and then line officers of various ranks culminating in generals or strategoi.
When First We Practise takes place two years after the conclusion of What Dreams May Come , during the Mykerenaean Rebellion against the tyrannical rule of the Troian Emperor Laomedon. After freeing Mykerenos, the rebels are preparing to advance from their mountain fastnesses through the Boreas Pass and into the Central Plain.

At the end of the book, information can be found under the following headings:

Glossary
Major characters
Minor characters
Measurement
Ranks in the Gean Army
Commands in the Navy
The Chronicles of Gea

Maps and further background material are available at http://www.harpalycus.com .

Athen

Your eyes have tumbled cities, seared the Kyklope’s walls,
whole armies have dissolved within your sight.
The rich and marbled halls of Troia stoop and fall,
To kiss the dust-hung earth before your might.
Your voice has ululated down the deep shield line,
as hoplites grasp the Attic earth with tensing feet,
and sweated hands grip hard the shaft of knotted pine,
where bronze and wooden walls defy defeat.
Your angry brow defied fell Xerxes’ mortal bands,
lost in their trespass, as they drank the rivers dry,
and yours the cry of women as they ran across the sands
to shame the triremes as they turned to fly.
Athen, foremost, goddess, the stay of this my life,
you’ve driven all my days and riven all my sleep.
Athen, wondered, worshipped, smoother of all strife,
Now I lie within your arms and, silent, weep.

Skyros of Lesbos c. 230–282
ONE
The eighteenth day of Skirophorion, the year 514. Hattusas, The Boreas Pass
The Princess Eugenia, niece to the Troian Emperor Laomedon, felt a flutter of excitement. She was about to see a battle. A real battle. With swords and spears, heroes and cowards, charges and retreats. With blood and death. And better yet, it would be a decisive victory over those damned Mykerenaean rebels, who were causing so much trouble.
Atop a low, steep hill, she looked down with pride on the mighty army set out below her. The dense, impenetrable hedgehogs of the speiroi, bristling with spears, the sun glinting from their bronze-clad shields, held the centre. The proud cavalry, all horsehair crests and streaming cloaks and high-stepping steeds, formed up on the flanks. Before them, the workaday units of archers and javelin-armed peltastes, altogether duller in simple tunics and broad-brimmed sun hats, stretched right across the broad valley.
In the distance, far up the valley, she could see the Mykerenaean army. Vague dark shapes, with the occasional bright gleam of metal, their upper surfaces broken by a strange growth of moving spots and splodges that she took to be their flags and standards, and the whole blurred within a halo of dust.
She waited eagerly for the “spear clash”. Her father had an old retainer called Mys, a scarred veteran of many wars. His tales of ancient battles caught her imagination, and he delighted in fueling the flame. She would now see the reality for herself.
It had not been easy getting here. A battlefield was not the natural habitat of a princess, and so she had flattered, cajoled and shamelessly manipulated her cousin, Geryon, the son and heir of the Emperor. Surprisingly to Eugenia, who held no great opinion of Geryon’s intellect, he had been given command of the Troian army waiting to do battle. Two days ago, she had found him in one of the rooms in the Old Palace at Tanagra, nursing a krater of wine. He had seemed strangely pleased to see her. He normally ignored her as beneath his notice. She had suspected his bluster and bravado were being fed more by the courage of the grape than any real martial spirit. She had asked him how it had been possible for the Mykerenaeans to free their province in the face of the might of the empire.
Made ebullient by the wine, he had explained it to her, albeit in his infuriatingly arrogant, patronising and foul-mouthed manner. How Marsyas, late Imperial Satrap of Mykerenos—or, to give him his full official title, “that useless wanker”—had been far too weak, bringing disaster tumbling down on his own incompetent head.
The state room she had found him in had walls painted as a garden with a riot of birds and beasts, plush couches on golden clawed feet, and a puddle of spilled wine beside a silver krater on a marble-topped table.
‘He should have ignored those stupid bastards wasting their time in the Akroakrai,’ he pointed out indulgently, ‘and gone and sacked bloody Plataea while he’d got the chance. Burnt it to the ground. Slaughtered them all. Everyone.’ He smiled lecherously. ‘In due course.’
Geryon’s eyes lingered on Eugenia’s well-shaped bosom. There was an unwholesome relish in his voice that made her skin crawl, but she made sure that nothing showed in her face. She had taken the risk of wearing an exquisite, diaphanous chiton with a jewelled strophion to lift and accentuate her breasts, but wasn’t at all sure that it had been a good idea.
She gazed at him, the very picture of doe-eyed hero worship. ‘It’s a pity that he lacked the advice of a great strategos.’ She spiced her flattery with a subtle