Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    Glyphwar
    Glyphwar
    Glyphwar
    Ebook259 pages3 hours

    Glyphwar

    By Gareth Lewis

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    With the Society and Alliance in decline, the monarchs unite to depose the usurpers. They're hardly powerless, and growing threats from outside the kingdoms and within could be enough to send everything spiralling towards war. And that's before Thjorn's plans reach fruition.

    Sequel to Glyphpunk.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherGareth Lewis
    Release dateFeb 13, 2014
    ISBN9781311777355
    Glyphwar
    Author

    Gareth Lewis

    Gareth Lewis has written a number of novels and shorter works in a few genres, including fantasy, science fiction, and thrillers. A programmer, he has a degree in computer studies, and lives in South Wales.

    Read more from Gareth Lewis

    Related to Glyphwar

    Titles in the series (3)

    View More
    View More

    Related ebooks

    Fantasy For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Sinister, Yet Sympathetic

      May 8, 2019

      Sinister, Yet Sympathetic
      7 min read

    • Article

      The Inventions of Witches

      Oct 30, 2017

      The Inventions of Witches
      7 min read

    • Article

      Stalking Diary

      Aug 4, 2021

      “Wait here, lad, don’t move a muscle, even when you hear the shot.” The young gillie nodded in response to the old stalker’s words and stayed back quietly in the peat hag. Slowly, the stalker and the guest edged uphill. Looking through the grass, des

      2 min read

    • Article

      Xiv for xiv

      Apr 2, 2024

      Xiv for xiv
      13 min read

    • Article

      THE FIRST FIVE PAGES: KJ Maitland

      Apr 1, 2021

      Writing historical crime thrillers often feels like one of those crazy circus acts where you have to stand on the backs of two galloping horses, with one foot on each, trying to keep your balance. One of the horses is the historical facts, the other

      6 min read

    • Article

      Sigrid Nunez

      Sep 15, 2017

      During the 1980s, in California, a large number of Cambodian women went to their doctors with the same complaint: they could not see. The women were all war refugees. Before fleeing their homeland, they had witnessed the atrocities for which the Khme

      23 min read

    • Article

      Readers’ Letters

      Nov 19, 2020

      SHARE YOUR VIEWS Email: martin.puddifer@futurenet.com I was pretty disappointed to read Chris Warren’s Judge Height Lest Ye Be Judged article [October issue]. Once again, the ugly subject of ‘extreme’ high-bird shooting was discussed rather flippantl

      6 min read

    • Article

      Pendragon

      Oct 8, 2020

      Pendragon
      4 min read

    • Article

      To Your Left Is Coding, to Your Right Is Safety: Programming Stories

      Oct 24, 2018

      1. The logic of novice programming goes something like this: Run function (x, y) If x is greater than y: Do this Else if y is greater than x: Do that Else: Something else happens. I quickly learned that computers don’t like choice, and they don’t lik

      7 min read

    • Article

      Trope: My Favorite Dirty Word

      Oct 18, 2021

      Trope: My Favorite Dirty Word
      7 min read

    • Article

      Commentary: Do We Really Want To Turn Our Teachers Into Warriors?

      Mar 15, 2018

      I commanded a Marine rifle platoon in Vietnam. I'm a former National Rifle Association member, a former elementary school teacher, a gun owner and a progressive. I think guns can be fun, if handled responsibly, like fireworks. They make us feel power

      2 min read

    • Article

      His Brilliant Career

      Mar 19, 2023

      His Brilliant Career
      9 min read

    • Article

      Judges

      Mar 10, 2024

      The doctors assured me the shrapnel in my leg would do no further harm if they “let sleeping dogs lie,” or at least less harm than trying to take it out would cause. “Hey,” I asked them. “What if it decides to cut its way out all on its own?” My grea

      12 min read

    • Article

      Darker Legends

      Sep 1, 2022

      Darker Legends
      6 min read

    • Article

      SHORT STORY by MARGARET ATWOOD

      Mar 22, 2023

      SHORT STORY by MARGARET ATWOOD
      7 min read

    • Article

      Cruel Means, Bitter Ends

      Nov 10, 2021

      “In order for this speech to mean anything to me, I’ll need to dispense with the usual demagoguery and, instead, make an attempt at honesty. With this in mind, there is one thing I have to make clear. I’m not in this race to serve your interests, but

      12 min read

    • Article

      Hate the Sin, Not the Book

      Sep 6, 2020

      Hate the Sin, Not the Book
      4 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for Glyphwar

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      Glyphwar - Gareth Lewis

      Chapter 1

      A person's reaction on realising they're not alone told you a lot about them. Thjorn preferred learning as much as he could about those involved in his plans.

      His unwitting host's study was expensively appointed and elegant - if you liked that kind of thing - with a sizable library of a couple of dozen books. Most weren't often read. A few of interest to his host had signs of repeated viewings, but the majority were decorative. All said something about Asolgunn.

      The aging weapon maker and trader went still as soon as he detected another presence. Not a panicked freeze. A warrior's alertness, as he determined the nature and position of the threat. Asolgunn turned slowly to regard his guest.

      Thjorn sat comfortably in the armchair, offering no threat. He hoped that wouldn't be forced to change.

      'I'm certain I didn't invite you here,' said Asolgunn. He tucked his thumbs unthreateningly in his belt. Within easy reach of the knife on his desk. While there were swords displayed on the walls, the knife was closer and unsheathed.

      'A lapse I'll forgive,' said Thjorn.

      Asolgunn continued examining him, taking his time to reach an uncertain conclusion. 'You're Thjorn?'

      Thjorn nodded. Stories of him made things easier and harder, depending who he was talking to. And which stories they'd heard.

      'The escaped convict,' said Asolgunn.

      You walk out of one inescapable prison and they never let you forget it. 'A misunderstanding. All cleared up.' The original crime had been, and no one after him for the trouble at the prison had yet got close.

      What did it say that Asolgunn opened with an accusatory statement? There'd been little heat behind the words - not that Thjorn would've been offended even if there had been. Asolgunn was probably needling for a reaction.

      Since Thjorn's plan didn't include displaying strong reactions, Asolgunn was out of luck.

      'I thought the tales of you visiting people in their private abodes were fabrications to add to your mystique,' said Asolgunn.

      'Some you've heard probably are,' said Thjorn. A few he'd admittedly started for that purpose. 'I've found things go easier if people know I'm just there to talk.' Provided he chose the correct audience.

      'And are you here to talk?' asked Asolgunn.

      'If you're willing to listen.'

      Asolgunn held his gaze a moment. Reaching a decision, he strolled to the other armchair. He pointedly didn't glance at the pair of swords crossed above the nearby fireplace.

      Had Thjorn expected trouble he'd already have glyphed the weapons in the room so they couldn't be drawn or used against him. He didn't foresee problems, and had enough protection to get away should the situation turn sour. Which it wouldn't.

      'Given you've brought down the guilds, I'm inclined to lenience,' said Asolgunn.

      'I haven't brought them down yet.'

      'Brought them low, then.'

      Low maybe, but both the Alliance and the Society retained some power. It hadn't been a quick job, but he hadn't thought it would be. It'd been a year since he'd killed their secret master, Wotyn, and there remained work to do to end them. They still controlled glyphs between them, and by extension most commerce around the Scarred Sea. But their influence was threatened.

      'Am I to be involved in your schemes?' asked Asolgunn. While he didn't appear hostile, his gaze said it remained a possibility. His curiosity held it in check for the moment.

      'I was thinking more of us helping each other.'

      Asolgunn's impassive expression betrayed nothing as he waited for Thjorn to continue.

      'To begin with, it's a misuse of the term to refer to them as guilds, although one I've been as guilty of. For what they've become anyway. The Society was originally based on the guilds of the time, but outgrew their limitations.' The guilds were quickly disbanded, in pointless fear they'd follow the Society in gaining power.

      Asolgunn quickly tired of the lesson. 'I see. So guild may be imprecise, but they do still dominate the glyph trade. And by extension, have some influence over the kingdoms.'

      'More than some,' said Thjorn.

      His host's lips pursed slightly. Their influence over the monarchies was a pressure point for him. 'There's no need to tell me about the influence these organisations possess.'

      Glyph magic was so integral to society that the stranglehold the organisations exercised over its practice had made them the dominant political power for centuries.

      'I know,' said Thjorn. 'You make high quality weapons, priced accordingly. Most customers who can afford them want weapons glyphed. And your customers can afford it. Yet hiring a glyphist costs. Since all belong to two organisations, you have few alternatives. If the Society or Alliance want to buy your swords to glyph, they can force your price down by similar means. Since most believe glyphs make more difference than a weapon's inherent quality, they can buy from inferior manufacturers who'll meet their price.'

      'Do you have a point?' asked Asolgunn. A hint of irritation peeked through his reserve.

      Some irritation could throw him off, but Thjorn had to avoid being too abrasive. While it might take some doing, his plan for the conversation should avoid it.

      Conversations were living things of course. You couldn't force them without being clumsily obvious. Guiding them was a useful skill though. 'While they're on the defensive may be the best time to renegotiate.'

      'It doesn't change the fact they're still standing,' said Asolgunn. 'Giving them leverage to ensure they have other options.'

      'Find leverage of your own.'

      Asolgunn stared, uncomprehending at first.

      Thjorn gave him time. Asolgunn's modest family status meant he wouldn't have reached his position if he wasn't intelligent. He'd already be trying to determine Thjorn's purpose.

      A drawbacks of the reputation Thjorn had developed in the last year was that most seemed to expect an ulterior motive. Asolgunn was no different.

      The weapon maker's expression turned to incredulity as he followed the logic. 'You're talking about a guild. Of weapons makers. You think that'd be allowed?' His tone said he didn't.

      'It might if it could harm the Alliance and Society,' said Thjorn. 'No offence, but swords aren't glyphs. With limits in place, you'd only ensure they can't control the market by playing you against your competitors. They'd have to be more reasonable, which would hit their business. Don't imagine they're dying. The monarchs could see you as a useful ally against them were the idea presented in a positive light.'

      'Whereas coming from you it'd be viewed with suspicion,' said Asolgunn. He was seeing a reason for being approached, given his links to the government of Culvik. Not that he'd stop looking for another motive. 'What do you get out of it? Forgive me, but I've never understood your motive for opposing them. You are a glyphist, after all. Or do you prefer glyphpunk?'

      'I prefer Thjorn.' He suppressed a smile at the blunt needling. Did Asolgunn consider the term glyphpunk derogatory? While Thjorn disliked being affiliated with many of them, he accepted it as a vaguely appropriate label. It disguised his agenda behind a simplistic mask of rebellion. A useful tool.

      'They've suppressed the advancement of glyphs for too long,' said Thjorn. 'Wotyn may be gone, but the way he set them up is inherently detrimental to glyphs. Despite their claims. I want them gone without harming glyphs. That means getting glyphists to abandon them. Financial pressure is a better option than some idiot king declaring war. Civilisation runs on glyphs.'

      Asolgunn's calculating gaze said he remained unconvinced, and wondered whether Thjorn believed what he said. 'You think this will end them?'

      'It'll add pressure. Your direct trade with them will reduce anyway, so don't let them use that to retaliate. The first thing they'll cut back on is troops. The monarchies have already reduced their reliance on them in favour of building their own armies. They're slow at the moment, probably waiting for the Society to lose their troops so they can hire them at a more reasonable rate. Without troops, they'll have less weight to throw around. And with a build up of armies, a guild may be useful to prevent the monarchs forcing low prices on you.'

      Nodding, Asolgunn leaned back. He was considering it. Not so much the guild as the armies. He didn't want them releasing their troops from service that fast. He kept his membership in the Red Fields warrior lodge quiet, since lodges had dubious reputations these days.

      Originally the lodges were elite bands of the greatest warriors. They were usually members of their country's army. After the Society came to power armies became less necessary, as the Society offered its mercenaries to fulfil the role when required. The lodges became home to unwanted warriors, with new lodges springing up which weren't as selective.

      Over time, many became hives of brawling drunkards. The Red Fields were respectable, and had retained links to what remained of the Culvik army. Asolgunn had already made overtures to the government, and would want the lodges hired into the army before Society mercenaries. He'd see the guild as a way to control trade with the Society and Alliance, and therefore influence how long they'd keep their troops. He was already pushing for his lodge to rejoin the army, and suggesting reputable lodges do the same in other countries.

      Dadfnir was secretly recruiting lodges, without regard to quality of skill or character. Thjorn didn't want a military imbalance upsetting things as the monarchies regained power.

      Asolgunn would assume Thjorn had other things in play, so would worry the Society and Alliance may collapse sooner than anticipated. It should urge him to move faster integrating with the army.

      He could try to sidestep it by having Thjorn killed, but couldn't be sure whether that'd even affect plans already in motion. So he'd be unlikely to do anything rash. Especially if failure invited retaliation.

      Asolgunn's gaze weighed him up, but Thjorn was sure the weapon maker thought he saw the ulterior motive here. It wouldn't be impossible for him to have learned Asolgunn's allegiance. And they appeared to share certain goals, so he'd be suspicious rather than hostile. He'd listen though, both to what was being said and what he considered unsaid.

      While people expecting certain things of him made the process more challenging, at least it offered some mental exercise. If they expected a hidden agenda, he'd give them a peek at it. Let them feel comfortable at seeing through his deception. If it was something that could advance their agenda they'd probably go along with it to make use of him. All it meant was that if he had motives he didn't want them knowing he simply had to be smarter. Adding another level so he could manipulate them into doing what he needed, or making his true goal too obvious to be suspected. It was almost too easy.

      And too boring. He derived little fulfilment from these manipulations. It was necessary to get the pieces where he needed them, but Thjorn missed the excitement of proper crimes.

      He might have to indulge himself, if only to avoid falling asleep in the next one of these.

      Chapter 2

      Midmorning, with a bunch of lodge warriors already disturbing the peace. Not a peace Irnskar was paid to uphold, and he had no intention of giving them an excuse.

      The streets of Raering didn't allow much room to slip by unnoticed. The only street wide enough for a wagon was the one through the centre of the town. Which was all they needed, what with only one working wagon.

      He passed the tavern with a pleasant smile at the drunk comments - having only understood every other word he could hardly class them as jibes or mockery. The warriors appeared immune to his charms.

      They were from the Heron Blooded lodge, the most prevalent on this isle. They'd enjoyed a brief resurgence of popularity on the Storm Isles when news of the Society's dealings with Elinar came to light. The authorities had turned to the lodges, considering them a replacement for the Society guards protecting them from raider depredations. The lodges had smelled victory, and started celebrating. They'd been celebrating ever since, causing a general nuisance of themselves.

      Lodge warriors were useful enough when raiders came, always first to meet them. Irnskar had no problem with someone else leading the charge. Their general demeanour had been less welcome. It made the authorities reluctant to end the Society contract, so they remained guarding a place that hated them.

      He should've taken another route, but this one had the least view of the ocean. The smell was bad enough, but he'd started getting seasick at the sight of waves. Why assign someone who hated sailing to protect islands? Okay, his time spying on the Alliance meant they were less than friendly. Still, he'd sooner dodge assassins than come up with reasons not to sail to the other islands.

      He'd received no response to his requests for a transfers to a more accommodating posting - even Volthus would be preferable. If this continued he might have to consider other offers. He only had one at the moment - which would take planning to get into position for, so he hadn't really entertained it. Maybe he should consider moving on. If he looked he could probably find work. But the looking itself sounded too much like real work, which he found vaguely disreputable. He always felt it showed a lack of guile.

      His hope for the moment was that the Storm Islanders would get fed up and throw them off. He needed a way to make the lodge warriors more appealing. It wouldn't be easy.

      He approached Hond's workshop at a leisurely stroll. The news wasn't good, so there was no reason to rush.

      Hond was busy on what appeared to be a chair of an intricate design. Wood on the islands, while not rare, was a limited commodity. Carpentry tended towards quality rather than quantity, and Hond - in addition to being Carl of Raering - was among the more skilled carpenters on the islands. Short and stout, his fingers moved with a grace at odds with his body, almost caressing the wood into the shape he wanted.

      Glancing up as Irnskar entered, he gave a slight nod and continued working.

      'No response in today's messages,' Irnskar said in an apologetic tone.

      Hond nodded. 'They're ignoring it.'

      'Probably.' The Society'd had plenty of time to respond to demands to renegotiate their rates.

      'They don't respond soon, you'll prob'ly get run off. No matter how much a problem the lodges are.'

      Irnskar shrugged. 'Given other troubles, they may have written you off as not worth the time. Sorry.'

      Hond returned the shrug. He knew there was nothing personal. Hond was one of the few here who didn't treat him as a Society stooge.

      'Wish the raiders would,' said Hond.

      'More trouble?' There'd been a few raids recently, of disturbing savagery. More killed than usual, and stories of raiders covered in glyphs.

      'Same pattern. Larger villages, even a town. An attack every couple of days now. The berserker types usually burn out quickly, but there's no telling how many more attacks before they do.'

      'You want us in the smaller settlements?' asked Irnskar. He didn't relish the prospect. Most travel on the isles was by boat. And it wasn't as though they had any boats glyphed to give a calm ride. 'The lodges tend to guard the towns, so we could spread the protection.'

      Setting aside his work, Hond shook his head. 'You'll be spread too thin. Couple of men won't delay them much.'

      'At the right place they might delay them long enough.'

      Hond brought out a pair of mugs, and a bottle to keep them company.

      The local brew was a bit harsh on Irnskar's tongue, but it dulled the ocean air.

      They both took a long swig before Hond spoke. 'How long to get a warboat here?'

      Irnskar considered it. 'Depends if any are available.' There likely would be, given the situation. 'Four days. A week. If I send the message today.' Presumably Hond had discussed it with whoever he needed to. 'What do you have in mind? I assume it won't just respond to attacks. They're faster than raider boats, but not that fast.'

      The Storm Isles were wide. They may not hear about an attack for a couple of days.

      'I was thinking of having it patrol south of the isles. Rate they're attacking, there's a chance it'd catch them coming or going.'

      Irnskar nodded. 'Its armaments and speed would let it deal with the raiders without boarding, removing their advantage. It'd be expensive.' And he had no intention of going on it, spending no telling how long at sea.

      'Considering the cost of the attacks, it may be worth it.' Hond poured again. 'And when the seas are safe from raiders, you'll have no excuse not to come fishing.'

      'Oh, I'll think of something. My beliefs prevent me hunting anything that swims. And there was a childhood incident with a giant trout and tub of worms that left me scarred for life and subject to traumatic flashbacks.'

      Hond suppressed a smile. 'Bet you wouldn't find any lodge boys running scared from a few little fish.'

      'Bet you wouldn't find any lodge boys who can spell fish. Or tell the fish apart from the boat.'

      They fell into a casual groove, discussing nothing much. It had become comfortable. As comfortable as he got here.

      The posting offered little in the way of excitement. Admittedly he was getting paid for doing little, which was a mercenary's ideal setup. But in the Alliance he'd always had the threat of being found out hanging over him.

      That

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1