The Aelf-King Legends  ·  A Legend

The Feast of Stephen

You know the carol. You do not know the night it remembers.

A companion legend of the years of the Scourge.

The Feast of Stephen: a trail of footprints pressed into deep snow, each one filled with golden light, leading away into the dark.

The Legend

A good king. A poor man in the snow. And a third man the carol could not hold.

Klaas keeps faith with his ledger because it has never once lied to him. He is a sea captain who prices everything: a thing is worth what it will fetch, and you do not hand a thing across for free. That winter the arithmetic brings him inland, to the hall of a young duke named Wenceslas, carrying the largest secret of his life: a hidden harbor of the hunted, worth a fortune to the men who burn such people.

On the Feast of Stephen the duke rises, gathers meat and wine and pine, and walks into a blizzard to a dying stranger, and warmth rises from the ground a good man has trodden. In that warmth a merchant who never handed a thing across for nothing is drawn a bill he cannot price, offered a ring that sings, and asked the one question the sea never taught him to answer. Sing the carol, and you are singing an alliance that carried a whole hunted people across the water.

For readers of Katherine Arden and Guy Gavriel Kay

The Feast of Stephen: a trail of footprints pressed into deep snow, each one filled with golden light, leading away into the dark.

Tread in the steps anyway. The way is broken there. You have only to follow.

From The Aelf-King Legends

The Chronicle

The Chronicle of Mercy

Dispatches from a world being set down as it is found. Lore, fragments from the archive, and first word when the trilogy is released. One letter a month.

No noise. Leave whenever you like.

Your name is in the chronicle. The next dispatch will find you.