Short fiction recommendation: Nebula edition

The 2014 Nebula nominees were just announced, so this seems like a good time to start something I’ve been meaning to do for awhile, namely push more short fiction at people. Even people I know who are fairly well-read in the genre (i.e. have read, or at least heard of, most of the Nebula nominees before they’re nominated) don’t read much short fiction or have heard of the authors.

Though I’d hope that most have heard of Aliette de Bodard, whose On a Red Station, Drifting was a previous Nebula nominee. In any case, you can read her nominated short story “The Breath of War” at Beneath Ceaseless Skies. As is usual with de Bodard’s stories–some of which I’ve had the privilege of reading in draft form–the level of craft here is exceptional. The author weaves the details and functioning of this world into the story so that the seams hardly show, and the characters, their relationships, and their concerns remain front and center. Families are often a prominent feature of de Bodard’s work, and such is the case here, but this is no mere character study. There is a broader canvas here, as is also the case with her other stories, and it rewards close reading.

Away and Returning

(Image: Woman of the Ardennes)

Their children were grown.

“I love you,” she said. “But I want to see the world, before I am too old to walk more than a mile in a day, and too bent with toil to care.”

“I love you,” he said. “But this is home, and the wheat is high, the cows give milk, and apples hang in the orchards in autumn.”

She packed a bundle, kissed him goodbye, and set out on the road that ended at their village.

She was gone a long time. When she walked back up the road again, it was with a limp, and she leaned on a stick. There were lines on her face that there hadn’t been before, and at least one new scar. Her clothes were different, and the look in her eyes was different too.

Every day, he had made supper, and sometimes someone from the village had shared it with him, but more often he ate alone.

Now he welcomed her in, and set the plate before her, and opened the wine she handed him from some far land, and the room smelled of sunlight.

“Tell me all about it,” he said, and she did.

The Company: The End

The story so far.

It took some days to rejoin the main company, all the while keeping our captive secure, and watching for those of his former companions who had escaped and might try to mount a rescue. But we made it in the end, and the Jarl was pleased.

Olemilekan and his companion remained with the company, somewhat to my surprise. But they pointed out that under the Jarl, they had some protection in a land where the very existence of sorcerers was taken as an abomination.

The swordplayer, on the other hand, used her share of the prize for the capture to buy out her contract. I don’t know where she went. The last I saw, she was riding south.

As for me, after thinking it over for awhile, I decided to stay on. Some people weren’t happy about my bringing in a sorcerer, but more were happy at the capture we’d made with his help, and at the general rise in the company’s fortunes.

We’ll see if I still think so in a few months. I’ve heard there’s a war on.

END

The Company: The Warrior (47)

The story so far.

The other Ashadin in the troop followed me back to where the swordplayer lay. By the time we got there, she had lost consciousness. Olemilekan stood to one side, watching, but when the Ashadin formed a circle around their fallen comrade, he and his companion mounted up and rode slowly back toward the rest of the troop.

Our prize was bundled onto his horse and brought back as well. I helped with that, not without a backward glance or two at the Ashadin, who sat so still they might have become statues. After a short while they were lost to sight.

The Company: The Warrior (46)

The story so far.

I got up, went to my horse, and rode back the way I’d come as fast as I dared. I didn’t even look back to see what Olemilekan and his companion were doing without me. I encountered the troop leader just riding out of the trees, the rest of her riders behind her.

“What’s going on?” she demanded, as soon as she saw me. “Report.”

“Quarry’s taken,” I gasped. “He’s all right, maybe a bit bruised. But one of ours is badly wounded. She told me to fetch the other Ashadin.”

Surprise, puzzlement, and even fear raced across the troop leader’s face in quick succession. But finally she shrugged.

“All right. If she wants to die with her people around her.”

The Company: The Warrior (45)

The story so far.

I knelt by the swordplayer’s side. Her body relaxed on the ground. Her eyes blinked. She groaned, her hands reaching for the wound that speared her front to back.

“Don’t move,” I said, though I couldn’t think what could be done for her. We had a field healer with us, but anyone with the skill to save her life would be back with the main company.

Olemilekan stood back from us, his face expressionless. I wondered whether he’d seen this, too, or whether his vision had enabled him to save our captive at the expense of one of our own.

“Get…the Ashadin,” the swordplayer gasped. A trickle of blood ran out the corner of her mouth.

“What?” I asked, stupidly.

“The Ashadin…with the troop. Get them.”

The Company: The Warrior (44)

The story so far.

“Look out!” I shouted, and she spun, her own longer sword coming out of the sheath at her back so fast that I never saw the blade.

Olemilekan shouted something in his own language, reaching toward the swordplayer with his hand outstretched.

The swordplayer froze. It took me a moment to realize that she had not stopped of her own accord. Olemilekan’s sorcery kept her from moving.

Our quarry’s blade sank up to half its length into her midsection.

The sorcerer’s companion and I ran forward together. She reached the man first, and kicked him backward so hard that he lay still on the ground.

The swordplayer, still frozen, slumped to one side, her eyes wide open.

The Company: The Warrior (43)

The story so far.

I looked from the ‘Ke woman to the swordplayer in confusion. This made no sense at all.

“Why would she want to do that?” I asked. In a moment, I had the answer: that, not turning Laszlo’s sorcerer in to the authorities–and thereby catching Laszlo up in the resulting prosecution–would be her vengeance for being dragged into this.

I turned to the swordplayer. “If you’re contemplating it, don’t. The Jarl is not kind to those who counter or fail to carry out his orders.”

She stared at me in confusion. “I’m not going to kill him! Why does everyone keep–”

Behind her, the man on the ground lurched. His blade came out from under him, sweeping toward the swordplayer’s unprotected back.

The Company: The Swordplayer (48)

The story so far.

Believing that I apprehended his purpose, I put myself between the sorcerer and the man on the ground. Olemilekan was a sorcerer, not a swordfighter.

And if he decided to use sorcery, I had a little of that at my disposal, as well.

“Stop!” Ivan shouted. “What are you doing?”

“What a good question!” I shouted back. “It’s all our asses if Olemilekan kills him.”

“He’s not going to kill him,” the sorcerer’s companion said. “He saw you kill him.”

The Company: The Swordplayer (47)

The story so far.

Olemilekan rode up to us at a flat run, then reined his horse in so hard it reared, slid from its back, and ran toward us. Behind him, his companion followed suit, shouting something in their own language.

Ivan whirled, staring up at them. The sorcerer interposed himself between Ivan, and myself and the man lying on the ground.

“What’s this about?” I asked, but the sorcerer gave no indication that he’d heard, nor understood if he had. “What’s going on?” I directed to his companion, as she reined in and dismounted.

“He saw something,” she said. Olemilekan drew his sword.