Saturn and the Sea People

By Henry Hallan

Exiled from the City, the Adepts that follow Eala's path are trying to make her dreams come true outside the City, transforming the lives of ordinary people instead. In doing so perhaps they can convince enough of the City's Adepts to bring about the revolution needed to change the City, and remove the death-sentence on their own heads. But time is running out as the oldest of the Adepts is appointed to hunt them down.

This is the fourth volume of the Fall of the Sea People fantasy series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Henry Hallan
• Release date: Feb 8, 2015
• ISBN: 9780957158580

Henry Hallan

Henry Hallan is a writer and a smallholder living in Connaught in the west of Ireland. The first four volumes of his "Fall of the Sea People" are now on sale and the last volume should be available later in the year. A science fiction novel, "Europa's Crossing," was out in July and a historical fantasy, "To Sail Atlantis", came out on International Talk like a Pirate Day. The last volume of "The Fall of the Sea People" will be available on 19 November 2015.

Book preview

- 1 -

Dea ex Machina

The river that flowed through the City came from a lake further up the valley, beyond the Grey Gate. There was woodland where goats were grazed. Two women sat on a seat by the lakeside and waited as the sky to the East lightened.

Thank you for this, Lady Eibheara, Cathúa said. I was lost. It was almost impossible to get back without your help.

I know.

I’m sorry that things haven’t worked out.

I have calmed down now. I tried to do something impossible and then I was surprised and angry to learn that it was impossible.

Ye have put a lot of effort into it.

Of course we have. We love him.

We all love him, Eibheara.

They sat in silence, watching the mist on the lake as the sky brightened and the last bright star in the dawn faded to oblivion. In the distance they could see a hunter with a bow stalking rabbits.

Eibheara?

What is it, Cathúa?

I know you are helping me get home, my lady, but…

There is Gruaige.

There is. I want to get her home, too.

She is home. She has a husband, a family, even grandchildren. What is more, she has overcome the curse of her ancestor’s name. I will take you to her and you will see that she is happy.

Thank you, my lady.

The hunter was crouching behind some bushes, fitting an arrow to his string, when the rabbits all started running in every direction. They saw him look up. As he stood there his jaw went slack and he dropped his bow.

Cathúa followed his gaze. She thought that the morning stars had all gone but there was one left, growing brighter as it fell. She saw a great Flyer descending. It was a huge thing, a living thing of flowing Metal, shining in the light of the Sun that was about to rise. She had never seen a Flyer so large, or constructed so strangely. The sight of it took her breath away. It’s beautiful, my lady, she breathed.

It descended out of the sunlight in the sky and into the Earth’s shadow. It silently drifted down to the lake near to where they were sitting. A door opened. She saw a figure with dark hair and blue cloak throwing things into the water. Then the Flyer drifted over land and stopped in front of them, at the shoreline. The figure turned and kissed another figure in the doorway. A part of the Flyer reached down to the ground. Eibheara and Cathúa got up to greet them.

They met at the point where the gangway touched the ground, Eibheara and Cathúa standing on the earth of the Land of the Immortals and the traveller standing on the Metal of the gangway. Cathúa saw that she was small with black hair, golden-brown skin and deep, expressive eyes. She had a rather flattened nose, broad cheekbones, and the eyelids that marked her as from the Great Ocean. The effect added to an exotic beauty that gave Cathúa a twinge of envy. Cathúa glanced down at her sword-hilt. She was Seventeenth Rank.

Cathúa, this is Yanti.

Yanti smiled down at her.

Where are you from, Yanti? she asked. That’s not a City name.

It is not. I come from an island north of Tír Mór Deisceart. I didn’t learn the tongue of the City until I was getting ready for Selection.

And when was..? Cathúa realised why that was a foolish question and why Yanti wouldn’t answer it anyway. Never mind, she continued.

Yanti stepped off the Flyer as Eibheara stepped on. Cathúa followed Eibheara up and into the Flyer. Yanti looked up as the gangway folded away. The Flyer turned, the door closing, then leaped silently into the sky. Seconds later it was lost in the blue vastness.

Yanti threw her sword and scabbard into the lake and then went over to the hunter. Take me to the City, she told him, gently. I need to find the inn with the sign of the Ocean and the Star.

* * *

The Flyer came out of the Grey Gate and swung around to follow the coast. The Adept who was in control turned to the servant next to her. Do you know the way?

I’m sorry, Lady Fia, I don’t, Cuspa replied. Last summer Lord Préachán sent me to Port Teorainn in a boat, along the coast. The first time I went to the City Lord Aclaí brought me with Lady Abhainne using Words of Power. We all held hands and suddenly we were in the Court of the Novices.

This boat, Fia asked, which way did it go?

It went north along the coast, my lady. Ceatha is on a headland jutting out to sea: the coast goes north-east and east either side of the headland.

Well, we are going west now, so we ought to encounter it eventually. Will you recognise it?

Cuspa looked nervously down at the gaps in the cloud. I don’t know, my lady. The cloud is in the way.

We might have to descend below the cloud. But it would be best not to crash into the side of the cliff.

Lady Eala says she crashed into a cliff once.

What happened?

Well, she can’t have died, my lady. She is still with us.

For a while they followed the glimpses of land they saw through breaks in the cloud. They passed a bulge in the cloud-layer and then, a few breaths later, they saw sea both north and south. We’ve missed it, grumbled Fia. We will have to find a way to get at it from beneath the cloud.

She guided the Flyer towards one of the breaks in the clouds to the north of them. Below the clouds the wind whipped rain and sea-spray across their paths. The Flyer’s mastery of the air kept the water off them but the billows of rain and spray made it hard to see. Fia slowed the Flyer right down and they turned east. Cuspa looked at the concentration in Fia’s face and kept quiet.

* * *

Eala woke up and lay quietly, not wanting to move. She could smell Méar in the warmth of the bedclothes but she could not see him in the darkness. There was no light coming from behind the tapestry. She heard the tapping sound again. Méar? she whispered. She heard no reply. She whispered Words of Light.

He was sitting by the desk. He had a piece of antler in one hand and a stone knife in the other. The stone knife was held in a piece of leather and he was tapping it with the antler, sharpening it by flaking pieces of stone off the edge. It was a homely, peasant thing to do, sharpening a stone blade. She didn’t think she had seen anyone sharpen a stone knife since she had been Selected. The City used blades of Metal.

She started to get out of bed and she saw the sheets. She had bled on them. Touching her neck she found the ragged cut where he had pressed the stone knife into her skin. She glanced over at him but he was still engrossed in what he was doing. She whispered Words of Healing, then put her hands on the bloodstains and said Words of Freshness.

Putting aside her irrational fears she went over and knelt beside him. She looked up at his face but she could see nothing. His face was the one she loved but there was no expression in it. The muscles lay relaxed as if he were asleep. His eyes were closed but he was still tapping the flint: small precise taps that worked the stone. One misdirected tap and the knife would be ruined.

She put her hand on his shoulder. Méar, my love, she whispered. Mentor, wake up.

Suddenly, silently she saw the life return to his face. His eyes opened and he looked over at her. Eala, he said.

Are you all right? she asked.

He put the antler and knife on the desk. I am fine, he replied. How are you?

I’m a little sore, she said. You really frightened me last night.

He smiled the mischievous grin that she remembered from her days as a purple Novice. It really worked, Eala. Fear strips away your pretence of being a good girl.

Eala was surprised to feel the heat on her face. I’m sorry, Mentor, she said.

Why? The reaction is common enough. It’s not something you can control, you know. That lack of control is why it works so well. That is why sometimes a condemned Adept is the best in bed. I think that if you thought you were to be executed at the Evening Meal you would be the most wanton girl you have ever been.

Perhaps, Mentor. She tried to smile to show him that she understood that he was playing a game. But it still didn’t feel like a game to her. I didn’t know, she explained. I thought you really might do it.

I thought you were the great Eala. I thought that, with your Art, you could read minds.

I can read emotions and motivations, Mentor. It is not the Words of Shared Mind. And… I can’t do it with you. None of us can. We can guess the simplest things, but we have no idea what motivates you.

Why is that?

Initiation, Mentor. The Mind Craft requires empathy and that means clearing our hearts of our own feelings enough to be able to feel yours. None of us can clear our hearts of feelings when we are with you.

She saw him smile. So you have no idea what is going on in my head?

None, Mentor, she replied.

That is good. The element of surprise will keep you guessing right until the end, then.

It will. If you learn my Art, Mentor, you will be able to work out what people are thinking about you without them being able to tell what you are thinking about them.

I can see the advantages of that. It will make it harder for my Adepts to conceal things from me.

Why would they want to?

I don’t know, Eala. Why do you think they would? He turned from her and spoke Words to his mirror. The reflection was replaced with a Vision. With gestures he flipped through a number of images until he found the one he was looking for. Look at this one, Eala. Why do you think these Adepts would try to conceal things from me?

The Vision in the mirror showed two naked bodies lying in a bed. The man was easy to recognise as Aclaí. The woman who had one leg over his hip and her head on his shoulder was her sister. She couldn’t see Geana’s face, but she knew her sister’s body like she knew her own. Her sister had recently been beaten and Aclaí’s hand was on her back.

I only see one Adept, Mentor. I didn’t know that Aclaí had… become intimate with my sister, but his home is only a few hours’ walk from hers. He was at my mother’s funeral.

He pointed at her body. She looks like an Adept to me. What about the Words of Bare Skin?

The servants are the same as Adepts, Mentor. Éirime did that to both of us before Selection. She told my sister that you would want it.

What did she tell you?

She didn’t tell me anything. I knew she wanted to and I didn’t argue. People used to mix us up until I put on my blue cloak, Mentor. And you can see that my sister is not wearing a blue cloak there.

I would have enjoyed mixing you two up, Eala. Why didn’t you bring her back?

I… I didn’t know you wanted me to. She has a Forbidden Name, Mentor.

I told you in Tírcúpla. Were you listening?

I didn’t know that you still wanted it. I could ask her, if you like. We would have to be careful not to hurt Éirime, though.

Why?

Because Geana is Éirime’s lover.

She looks like she is Aclaí’s lover.

Maybe, if you permitted Aclaí to talk to Éirime…

I will not, Eala. The Oldest and Second Oldest betray me when they are apart. Do you expect me to permit them to plot their betrayals together?

What has Éirime ever done to betray you?

Many things. She was allowed to Retire after I found her in bed with the Favourite.

What did you do with the Favourite?

She Fell. But she lives, still.

You let her live?

That is what happens when poor soft-hearted Méar loses his resolve and allows the people he cares about to take advantage of him. I saw them in bed together and… I didn’t kill them. Do you want to see that? Or is this image enough betrayal for you?

That is not me, Mentor.

Did Aclaí know that?

I don’t know, Mentor. I can’t imagine my sister would willingly pretend to be an Adept. But I don’t even know when that happened.

It was sixty years after you were Selected, Eala. If that is your sister, she is very well preserved. So was it you, or is someone using Forbidden Art to prevent your sister ageing?

Mentor, if it wasn’t for Forbidden Art I wouldn’t be talking to you. Can’t you overlook this?

Soft-hearted Méar will overlook it for now. But do not presume so much, Eala.

She reached her hands into his lap. I presume nothing. Let me remind you of why you spared me.

He pushed her hands away. Not now, Eala.

Won’t you let me put my arms around you? she asked.

When I want your arms around me I will tell you.

Eala felt her eyes sting. Ask you wish, Mentor.

* * *

The first warning Fia got that she was approaching the cliffs was when she heard the sound of the surf on the rocks. She slowed the Flyer to a walk and peered into the weather. The surf flew up and she saw the wet rocks. Cuspa pointed away to the right. My lady, she shouted, there is the House of Power.

Fia turned the Flyer and they skimmed along the shoreline, the surf breaking beneath them. As they approached the pyramidical top of the House of Power Fia saw a palace perched on the hillside above it. That way, Cuspa pointed. That is where my family live, my lady.

It is a fine house for a family of servants, Fia remarked.

Our mistress is away, my lady.

Fia guided the Flyer down and landed it in the courtyard. Cuspa gathered her bags. Would you like to have breakfast, my lady? she asked.

I want to get back to the City. I will return in a ten-day. See that you are ready.

Thank you, my lady.

The Flyer climbed quickly up until it was lost in the clouds. Cuspa looked around and realised they were all there, watching. Her mother came out and held her. Who was that? she asked. Was that Lady Eala?

Mother, Lady Eala has red-blonde hair. She looks just like Mistress Geana from the Academy in Áthaiteorainn.

So who was that bringing you home?

She is Lady Fia. She comes from the southern part of the Westland, where the Forest is wildest. The Mentor said I could come home to see Éan’s new child. He told Lady Fia to bring me back.

Éan is in Port Teorainn.

Then I will find a boat to take me up the coast. Mother, she is not going to come back to collect me for a ten-day.

You will have to be quick.

I could walk to Port Teorainn in three days, Mother. If I can’t get a boat home by next Fours-day I’ll walk back. That is, if I am expected to go back at all.

Why wouldn’t they want you back? Have you displeased Lady Eala? What have you done, Cuspa?

I have done nothing, Mother. But Lady Eala has done something. Last night she slept in the Mentor’s bed. They are together at last.

What does that mean?

It means, Mother, that soon she will bring him back here. Our mistress is going to return.

Is it true, Cuspa? Mother squealed.

It is true. We are all going to serve Lady Eala soon.

How soon?

I would think they will be home before Midwinter, Mother.

* * *

Míne was walking across the Court of the Novices seeking breakfast when a girl ran up. I have this for you, Lady Míne, she said. Míne took the folded note and opened it.

Míne, she read

I know this is not the usual way I do things but I ask that you trust me. Please gather all the Adepts whose Mind Craft skills are recognised and take them to the usual meeting place in the Low City. Please do whatever you can to ensure that everyone attends. When you have made the arrangements with the others, you will need to convince me too.

Although it will make things even more complicated, I ask that you don’t discuss this note with me. Instead please convince me without telling me that I asked you to do this.

I know this request seems odd and I am sure it will raise more questions than it answers. Nevertheless I would ask you to trust me on this. If you love me, do this for me.

Eala

Míne frowned. She looked at the servant girl. Who gave you this? she asked.

It was an Immortal, my lady.

Do you know her name?

I don’t, my lady, she said. Míne could hear the fear in her voice. I never saw her before, my lady.

You have not been long on the Hill, have you?

Since Autumn Day, my lady.

Go on, then, said Míne.

The servant girl ran away towards the kitchens and Míne went into the Hall of the Novices. She saw Blátha sitting at the table and went over. Will you speak to me? she asked.

Blátha went out and found a smaller teaching room. What is it? she asked. Míne gave her the note and watched as she read it. It’s strange, Blátha said. I have a feeling there is something wrong with Eala.

Do you think it might be stress?

Blátha smiled a tight smile. It is hard for a favourite, Míne. The attention of the Mentor can make things very much harder. I think this note may mean that Eala is in trouble. Blátha frowned. Or… She smoothed the note out and then used the Words of Identification. It is definitely her note, written this morning. She is in trouble and we should assume that she is using a note because she doesn’t want to communicate in other ways.

So what do we do?

We tell everyone that we will meet at the Ocean and Star this afternoon, just as the note says. I suspect she thinks she will be overheard or observed and she wants us to play some sort of role.

She wants us to meet in the Low City before the Evening Meal?

Oh. Blátha smiled. Of course, Míne. Today is the Mentor’s Nativity. She has something planned for his Nativity and she wants it to be a surprise. That is why she is collecting all of us together.

Míne breathed her relief. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. Thank you, Blátha. I was really worrying about it.

That’s fine.

Do you think we should explain to the others?

We should not. If Eala wanted us to explain she would have mentioned it in her note.

You are probably right.

* * *

Cathúa heard the servants bring breakfast out and went to find something to eat. She was picking up fruit when the Mentor spoke to her. He was immediately behind her.

Cathúa, he asked. Can we talk in your library for a moment?

Good morning, Mentor, she replied. How are you enjoying your Nativity?

It is another year. Take me to your library.

Cathúa stopped gathering food and walked back across the courtyard to her library. She opened the door and let him in, then indicated to him the chair where she normally sat. She pulled out the stool and sat before him. How is Eala? she asked.

The question seemed to catch him by surprise. For a breath he stood with his mouth slack. Then he looked at her as if he had seen her for the first time. Eala is tired, he said. She needs more sleep than I do.

Have you forgiven her, Mentor?

Forgiven her for what?

I mean…

That wasn’t what I wanted to ask you. You know about numbers, Cathúa. How many Adepts have learned Eala’s Art?

I don’t know exactly. You could ask Eala, Mentor. If she doesn’t know then the information might not be available.

I was asking you. Work it out.

You mean I should guess, Mentor?

Of course I mean you should guess.

Will you allow that my guesses may be inaccurate?

Cathúa felt the power of his Breath before she felt his hand. It wasn’t the slap that brought tears to her eyes, it was the feeling that came with it. As a favourite who had spent seven hundred years on the Hill, she thought she had got used to his moods. But she could always pretend to herself that the attention he gave her was motivated by some sort of caring. The feeling of his Breath told her that he was simply tolerating her for now. He had slapped her because she was not doing what he wanted. She knew she was lucky that he had chosen to use his hand: he could as casually have used the sword.

I’m sorry, Mentor, she whispered, tasting blood in her mouth. I know that Eala teaches her Mind Craft at three levels. She teaches elementary lectures that provide a grounding in the subject. I would think that almost every Adept in the City has attended at least some of her elementary lectures. A smaller fraction have completed the elementary lectures to a grade that she accepts and are recognised by her. At that level, I would guess that there are over a thousand Adepts who have completed Eala’s elementary tuition. Added to that…

How many have completed the higher levels?

Cathúa had been about to describe that there were several copies of Eala’s book in circulation and that many Adepts would have learned her Art without even attending her lectures. But she saw impatience and felt the numb lumpy sensation in her mouth where he had hit her. She is timetabled to teach her elementary level six times a ten-day and she teaches her intermediate level twice in a ten-day. Her advanced students…

Get to the point.

I would think she has about fifty learning at intermediate level and maybe two or three hundred on the Hill have completed this level. The Stewards who have gone to Anleacán are intermediate level. I would think that many of her intermediate students have Retired from the City and are applying their Art to the peasants.

How many of those are there?

It might be that there are another two or three hundred, Mentor. There are Stewards in villages throughout the coastline from the Archipelago to the mouth of the Inland Sea. She is bringing more to the Eastland and to our coast of the northern Westland. Two or three hundred is a guess, Mentor. There could be double that.

How many will attend tonight’s Evening Meal?

I would think twelve hundred to fifteen hundred.

How many Adepts do we have?

Numbers vary, Mentor. But fifteen or sixteen hundred is typical. There may be more because it is your Nativity.

What are the Ranks of Eala’s students?

It varies. I would think the elementary students are mostly Novices and Veterans and the intermediate students are mostly Veterans. But there are both Veterans and Immortals among the intermediate students.

What about the advanced students?

I can’t tell you, Mentor. Eala doesn’t timetable tuition for the advanced students. They are more like apprentices.

How do you know?

Some of them were on my Patrol, Mentor. Cabairí, Abhainne and Míne are all advanced students. So is Blátha, Mentor.

She got away with far too much, Cathúa. I should have made an example of Blátha. Cathúa could not think of a reply to that, so she said nothing. He continued, If you had to arrest twelve hundred Adepts, Cathúa, how would you do it?

I couldn’t, Mentor. I am not strong enough. I would think that if you were to order them to give themselves up then that would be enough. If you were not to tell them that they were to be arrested, I would think they would submit. The problem would be what might happen if you hurt them. Adepts are trained and equipped to be able to escape from captivity. I don’t think there are very many ways we could keep an Immortal immprisoned. Escaping from traps and ambushes is something we learn in the Forest, Mentor.

How would you arrange it for me?

I would use Innealta’s Net, Mentor.

What is ‘Innealta’s Net’, Cathúa? I have never heard of it.

When Innealta was captured in the Forest, they used a device to shut in her will. It looks a bit like a spiderweb and you put it over someone’s head. They stop being able to form the volition to do… anything, really.

Does it work on Immortals?

Aclaí says that when he recaptured Innealta she was wearing the thing. I don’t even know how he got it off her. But he left it in my archive of things. I believe I could work out how to make one with a few years of research.

Do you still have the original?

I do, Mentor.

Does it hurt someone to be trapped in it?

I don’t know. I have only heard it described.

We should test it. He stood up and looked out of the doorway. Cathúa whispered Words of Healing and touched her mouth while he was distracted. Then he came back leading a servant by the hand. Try it on this one, he said.

Cathúa rummaged around until she found the leather bag she had used to store Innealta’s Net. She unfolded the Net in her fingers. Then she opened the little Box of Replication she used for books. She put the Net in and tapped the lid. She lifted one out and put it in the bag. She called the servant close. This won’t hurt, she whispered. She tried to use Eala’s techniques to appear sincere.

The Net settled over the servant’s head. The servant stopped shivering and stood quietly. The Mentor touched the servant’s face and body. The will is completely trapped, he smiled. One of these would be perfect.

Shall I try and remove it?

If you wish.

Cathúa tried the obvious things. She couldn’t simply lift the Net off: it seemed to have bonded with the servant’s skin, leaving what looked like an ordinary set of wrinkles that happened to be in the shape of netting. She tried the Words that End, but that didn’t work either. I am not sure how to remove it, she told him, trying not to let him see the guilt she felt. I will experiment.

Don’t bother. I want two thousand of these things before the Evening Meal. Use Replications.

Mentor, do you mean to..?

I want to question those Adepts who know Eala’s Art, Cathúa. That won’t work unless I find a way to prevent them attempting to resist or to flee.

Will you hurt them?

What is that to you?

Many of them are my friends, Mentor.

She could see that he was no longer interested in the conversation even before he got up. He looked down at her and spoke with a slightly pitying tone. You don’t make friends very well, do you?

I don’t.

He walked to the door, then looked over his shoulder as he left. Well, you might have to practice more, he said.

* * *

The first of them into the Ocean and Star were lower Ranks. The Immortal Mind Craft Adepts were organising things but they simply sent the younger ones, knowing they would obey orders. The first few arrived and the landlady greeted them. We are friends of Eala, they told her.

It is in the usual room, my lords and ladies. There is one of you already there.

They went into the room. It was almost empty but there was a dark-haired woman sitting at one end, braiding her hair. She smiled at them but she did not encourage conversation. They sat at another table and waited.

Who is she? one of them asked.

I don’t know. There are so many of us that we cannot expect to know everyone’s name.

I’d have remembered her name, one of her companions said. "She is pretty."

* * *

Rónmór saw Eala look out of the Mentor’s room. She didn’t see him in the watch-house so, satisfied that there was no-one in the Court of the Favourites, she ran over to the gateway and down the Hill. One look at her face was enough for him.

The Mentor didn’t come back up the Hill for a thousand breaths or more. But Rónmór was ready for him. Rónmór followed him right into his room.

What do you want? Ceann demanded.

You should not treat Eala like that.

Are you forgetting who I am?

"I know exactly who you are. Get out of him!"

Rónmór watched as the Mentor’s face sagged and his body wavered. He thought he might have to catch him before he fell, but he stood straight after a heartbeat. What did you do? Méar whispered.

I don’t know. I told it to go away and it went away.

Why?

Why? Rónmór’s voice rose. Why? Mentor, do you really not remember? That thing was hurting Eala!

Rónmór, did you learn Eala’s Art?

I didn’t think it would be a good idea.

Good. I’m going to need you.

Mentor, I will help you. I don’t know how that thing got the better of you but I am sure I can protect you.

Rónmór, you don’t understand. The mind craft Adepts have turned on me.

They summoned that thing?

Rónmór, you trust Eala, don’t you?

I do.

She is very good at getting people to trust her. But you shouldn’t. She is unfaithful to me. She… he got up and gestured his mirror into life. A moment later they were looking at the same image that he had shown Eala. Look at her, he said.

How can that be? Rónmór asked his Manifestation.

It is not Eala, the Manifestation replied. The Mentor has been deceived by that thing. Be careful: he chose it willingly.

Mentor, that is not Eala. I don’t know how that image came to be, but you are being deceived.

That is what she said. He gestured at the mirror again and the image changed. Rónmór saw a whole succession of pictures of Aclaí with her: hugging, kissing, nursing her on his lap with his arms around her. Then he saw Eala with others as well as Aclaí: with Éirime and with the servant boy she had first been assigned, when she was a purple Novice.

Can it be true? he asked his Manifestation.

Some of them are her, some are not, but all are intended to deceive. Let me…

Rónmór turned to the Mentor. Mentor, Eala has never been unfaithful to you. Today, tonight you have a choice: marry her or lose her. She has waited for you long enough and now you turn on her.

What are you talking about, Rónmór?

We both know how the City’s games are played, Mentor. If two people want you to choose between them, they each try and sabotage the other.

Rónmór, Eala is trying to sabotage me. She is planning, with Aclaí, to make me Retire. Aclaí wants the City and she is helping him to get it.

What are you talking about?

Rónmór, you haven’t told me but I know what you do. I do the same thing. Ask. Ask a question for me: is Eala plotting with Aclaí to make me Retire and leave Aclaí to rule the City?

It is still intended to deceive, Rónmór

But is it true? Rónmór thought.

The best sort of lie is the truth told in a deceptive way.

Is Eala helping Aclaí to banish him?

Aclaí is helping Eala to marry the Mentor and take him into Retirement. It is best for all of them.

How do I explain that?

You can’t. It is up to him to choose what to believe.

Mentor, I am told that Eala and Aclaí are trying to arrange your Retirement. But they are doing it because they love you.

Aclaí’s love is what makes him want to get rid of me? Eala’s love for me is what takes her to Aclaí’s bed?

You are deceived, Mentor. Eala will not find her way to Aclaí’s bed unless you drive her there.

"Nobody would choose to drive someone away for love. Love makes us want to possess someone, not throw them away. If you don’t believe that love is a desire to possess someone, Rónmór, it is because

Reviews for Saturn and the Sea People

[henryhallan · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

If I could have made it any better, I'd have made it better.