“What does it mean, Tovo,” he whispered, “if the tana-tai is lost? What does it mean if no one is willing to hold the fire, pass it on?”
Portrait of a Wide Seas Islander
“She gave me the beads. My father carved them, when he was still an apprentice to his father, before...My mother was the one to magic them. A gift for me, from—from both of them. And then she told me his name.”
At the Feet of the Sun
Fitzroy gave Cliopher a very brilliant look and carefully moved the flower to his right ear.
Cliopher felt a wash of some nameless emotion—some indescribable wonder, some intense humility, some astonishing gratitude, some sort of awe.
At the Feet of the Sun
There had been a tapestry, you recalled, tribute from Colhélhé. A hand-woven chart of the the full extent of the Empire at its height, beautiful and accurate without being too detailed. Accurate enough, even now, you suspected. A reminder.
Petty Treasons
He had wanted someone who was his, and who would choose him, as his equal, his match, his outrigger, as so much more than friend.
At the Feet of the Sun
I was not supposed to know what a war was like, what it meant to have crops laid waste and houses razed to the ground. I was not supposed to be able to feel the sweat and the blood and the flies.
Petty Treasons
“I have never been to the House of Sun. I am Cliopher Mdang of Tahivoa, tanà of Zunidh and Hands of the Emperor, and I will go there and bring you the flame you need.”
At the Feet of the Sun
And the centre of every gaze and every mind and every subtle line, that hundredth and last Emperor of Astandalas whom Cliopher loved.
The Hands of the Emperor
Cliopher found his voice. “That was...was...matter for a song.”
Fitzroy smiled at him, slow and secret, his delight welling as slowly as the light. “Yes. One day.”
“I will help you,” Cliopher promised.
At the Feet of the Sun
‘They mean the common and ordinary good of duty honourably fulfilled, of love occasionally accompanied by quarrels, of friendships that will not fail, of a home filled with laughter and music and family.’
The Hands of the Emperor
“There’s no blasphemy in pointing out the truth. It is blindingly obvious. When you want to share some news, it is to him you look—and when he wishes to talk, it is with you.”
The Hands of the Emperor
“I chose the latter course, and as a result have had the great pleasure and even greater good fortune of witnessing the development and coming to maturity of perhaps the finest statesman in recorded history.”
The Hands of the Emperor