Joron (Spoiler): The Bone Ships

Joron must risk his life in a deadly duel, after learning his shipwife, Meas Gilbyn, wants Black Orris. (Cahanny, who has Black Orris, names his price: a duel.)

Joron’s opponent is a hefty woman who’s got the arms of a Kept. Don’t ask.

At the conclusion of the duel, Joron says, “All right. Bring out Black Orris.”

“Arses,” said Black Orris.

“A foul-mouthed bird.”

“Your arses,” said Black Orris.

Stay safe, dear blog readers. Stay safe.

Whoa! Thirteenbern Gilbryn

Thirteenbern is the Mother of Meas Gilbryn, the only person our heroine can not out-kickass.

Thirteenbern stands for . . . care to take a guess???!!!

There was no denying the strength in the Thirteenbern’s body, and that was why she showed it. She flaunted her fertility. This woman was the bringer of thirteen perfect children to the isles and claimed title as mother of all. Her skirts were of iron, laced together with birdgut and enamelled with stylised fish which danced across her lap.

— p. 134, The Bone Ships

Upon seeing Meas: “You are my curse. Every day I ask why the Hag took nine of my children in war but never so much as touched you.”

Mummie Dearest! Say it ain’t so!

While Meas is having lovely convo with Dearest Mum, her deckkeeper, Joron, is led away by a Kept, only to find himself propositioned.

Wild!

Stay safe, dear blog readers. Stay safe.

The Bone Ships: Sentence of the Day

On their way back to their stinking room in Fishmarket, Meas had them stop off at a cobbler on Hoppity Lane, where, by tradition, those born with a leg or foot missing carried on the trade of shoe making.

— Chapter 14, A Gathering of Cold Souls, The Bone Ships

BRIGHT SQUARES: The End

All good things must end. Self went through April, all the time looking for Bright Squares. Thank you for hosting the challenge, Becky/The Life of B!

Below, pictures of her picker-uppers: a book (of course); flowers; and more flowers.

Stay safe, dear blog readers. Stay safe.

The Pace Is Picking Up!

Miriam teams up with Mr. Ottershaw, an old family friend, and a widower. From all the intensity Mr. Ottershaw brings to their conversations, self thinks the fact that he is a widower has got to figure for something in the plot. (Though if he does propose, that would be too bad, because then “young Pitt” would no longer be hanging around Miriam as much, and self likes the hint of a May-December romance — with role reversal — between Miriam and Pitt)

Mr. Ottershaw’s laboratory is a “huge, complex room filled with instruments. Some were as large as a furnace and others as small as tweezers that could lift a single hair less than half an inch long.” (One Fatal Flaw, p. 139)

It is 1911. Forensic science is in its infancy.

“I’m not part of anything bigger, and I need to be.”

Oh bravo, Miriam Crofft, gentlewoman scientist in England 1911.

Reading One Fatal Flaw, Book 3 of the Daniel Pitt series by Anne Perry. It’s self’s first Anne Perry! Apparently it’s a log-running series (like Louise Penny’s Inspector Armand Gamache series), but most of the books were about Daniel Pitt’s parents. Now, the next generation has taken over.

Daniel Pitt is 25, a graduate of Cambridge, and still quite green. He receives superb assistance from the daughter of his boss, Miriam. Miriam is a much-loved only child, and her father indulged all her scientific notions and built her a chemistry lab in the basement of their home.

It’s very interesting.

Stay safe, dear blog readers. Stay safe.

Top Grimdark: The Brodd Silent Scene

In a minute, self has got to go water her roses (two new ones) and her irises.

In the meantime, she can appreciate a bit of humor.

SPOILER ALERT

In one of the last scense of TTWP, that sly Rikke, who wisely opted out of battle, despite her having given reassurances of loyalty to The Young Lion (who is all sorts of stupid: Rikke was his ex-lover, he went for the lovely lovely prize of Savine ‘barf’ da Glotka, and he still thinks Rikke has his back? This Young Lion is not the sharpest tool in the deck), shows up in the Ghurkish Kingdom to demand the surrender of Skirling Hall. She walks right up to the ramparts, orders a huge chest of gold and silver to be brought forward, displays the contents of the chest, and says to the soldiers on the ramparts, Open your gates!

Commander Brodd Silent leans over the ramparts and shouts: NEVER!

In the next moment, “there was a breathy cry and something came flying off the battlements.”

Rikke’s sidekick, a man called “The Nail” (one can only imagine) peers at the mess and says, “Who’s that, then?”

“Brodd Silent, I expect.”

“Hold on!” someone called from the battlements. “We’re coming down!”

Self loves Rikke. Rikke reminds her of Renfri in The Witcher, or Arya in Game of Thrones. There are fearsome runes tattooed on her face, to keep her Long Eye (the eye that sees the future) in check, and men are always calling her bad things. Ugly, for starters. Nevertheless.

Stay safe, dear blog readers. Stay safe.

Fat Chin

Someone tells the King of the Union, Orso the First, that he has a fat chin. Just before a crucial battle.

His opponent, the Young Lion Leo van Brock, has six-pack abs and a jaw that could cut glass. But self is calling it now: King Orso the First will win. And Joe Abercrombie wins as well, because now self is anxiously awaiting Book Three of The Age of Madness.

SPOILER ALERT

Looks like the two characters self hates most are making it into the next book.

LOL

LOL

LOL

TTWP Part VI

Big battle scene coming!

“No plan survives contact with the enemy.” — Helmuth von Moltke

The Trouble with Peace, p. 353

Self has the rest of the day to read. She might be able to finish TTWP as early as tonight.

Next on her reading list: All the Devils are Here, by Louise Penny.

Exciting. Self has never read a Chief Inspector Armand Ganache mystery before. Of course it is set in Paris. There is a picture of the Eiffel Tower right on the cover, that’s how she knows.

Self memorably spent Christmas 2017 in Paris. And shared the hotel with a Filipino family (with three small kids) on their way to spend the holidays in Iceland. (Self will never get over this, but Filipinos have a real hankering for extreme cold. It’s a THING) Because self was all surly and anti-holiday, she never spoke to this family, not even when she and they were the only ones in the hotel restaurant for breakfast. She pretended she was Chinese, couldn’t understand Tagalog, didn’t want to know why they were going to Iceland, or where they were staying.

Stay safe, dear blog readers. Stay safe.

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