Read Lord of Mountains: A Novel of the Change Online
Authors: S. M. Stirling
Lord of Mountains: A Novel of the Change
Lord of Mountains
Lord of Mountains
A NOVEL OF THE CHANGE
S. M. S
TIRLING
A ROC BOOK
ALSO BY S. M. STIRLING
NOVELS OF THE CHANGE
I
SLAND IN THE
S
EA OF
T
IME
A
GAINST THE
T
IDE OF
Y
EARS
O
N THE
O
CEANS OF
E
TERNITY
D
IES THE
F
IRE
T
HE
P
ROTECTOR’S
W
AR
A M
EETING AT
C
ORVALLIS
T
HE
S
UNRISE
L
ANDS
T
HE
S
COURGE OF
G
OD
T
HE
S
WORD OF THE
L
ADY
T
HE
H
IGH
K
ING OF
M
ONTIVAL
T
HE
T
EARS OF THE
S
UN
NOVELS OF THE SHADOWSPAWN
A T
AINT IN THE
B
LOOD
T
HE
C
OUNCIL OF
S
HADOWS
OTHER NOVELS BY S. M. STIRLING
T
HE
P
ESHAWAR
L
ANCERS
C
ONQUISTADOR
ROC
Published by New American Library, a division of
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,
New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto,
Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2,
Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)
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Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)
Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park,
New Delhi - 110 017, India
Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632,
New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)
Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue,
Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa
Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:
80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
First published by Roc, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First Printing, September 2012
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Copyright © S. M. Stirling, 2012
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
REGISTERED TRADEMARK—MARCA REGISTRADA
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA:
Stirling, S. M.
Lord of mountains: a novel of the Change/S. M. Stirling.
p. cm.—(Change series)
ISBN: 978-1-101-60509-7
1. Regression (Civilization)—Fiction. 2. Imaginary wars and battles—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3569.T543L67 2012
813’.54—dc23 2012001976
Set in Weiss Medium
Printed in the United States of America
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
ALWAYS LEARNING
PEARSON
To Jan, forever
More, but not enough.
Thanks to my friends who are also first readers:
To Steve Brady, for assistance with dialects and British background, and also natural history of all sorts.
Thanks also to Kier Salmon, insufficiently credited collaborator, for once again helping with the beautiful complexities of the Old Religion, and with…well, all sorts of stuff! Sometimes I feel guilty about not paying her.
To Diana L. Paxson, for help and advice, and for writing the beautiful Westria books, among many others. If you liked the Change novels, you’ll probably enjoy the hell out of the Westria books—I certainly did, and they were one of the inspirations for this series; and her
Essential Ásatrú
and recommendation of
Our Troth
were extremely helpful…and fascinating reading.
To Dale Price, help with Catholic organization, theology and praxis.
To Brenda Sutton, for multitudinous advice.
To Melinda Snodgrass, George R. R. Martin, Walter Jon Williams, John Miller, Vic Milan, Jan Stirling, Matt Reiten and Ian Tregellis of Critical Mass, for constant help and advice as the book was under construction.
Thanks to John Miller, good friend, writer and scholar, for many useful discussions, for loaning me some great books, and for some really, really cool old movies.
Special thanks to Heather Alexander, bard and balladeer, for permission to
use the lyrics from her beautiful songs, which can be—and should be!—ordered at www.heatherlands.com. Run, do not walk, to do so.
Thanks again to William Pint and Felicia Dale, for permission to use their music, which can be found at www.pintndale.com and should be, for anyone with an ear and salt water in their veins.
And to Three Weird Sisters—Gwen Knighton, Mary Crowell, Brenda Sutton and Teresa Powell—whose alternately funny and beautiful music can be found at www.threeweirdsisters.com.
And to Heather Dale for permission to quote the lyrics of her songs, whose beautiful (and strangely appropriate!) music can be found at www.HeatherDale.com, and is highly recommended. The lyrics are wonderful and the tunes make it even better.
To S. J. Tucker for permission to use the lyrics of her beautiful songs, which can be found at www.skinnywhitechick.com, and should be.
Thanks again to Russell Galen, my agent, who has been an invaluable help and friend for a decade now, and never more than in these difficult times.
All mistakes, infelicities and errors are of course my own.
T
HE
H
IGH
K
ING’S
H
OST
H
ORSE
H
EAVEN
H
ILLS
(F
ORMERLY SOUTH-CENTRAL
W
ASHINGTON
)
H
IGH
K
INGDOM OF
M
ONTIVAL
(F
ORMERLY WESTERN
N
ORTH
A
MERICA
)
O
CTOBER
28
TH
, C
HANGE
Y
EAR
25/2023 AD
“H
e is coming!” Rudi whispered again.
Then he shook himself and let his hand fall from the crystal pommel of the Sword. His helmet was already slung from the high pommel of the war-saddle, and the wind cuffed at his long red-blond hair, giving an illusion of coolness as it dried the sweat bred in the rage and heat of battle.
“Where? When?” Mathilda said sharply, her strong-featured face frowning a little under the raised visor of her own sallet.
It was a bright autumn noon, and the rolling hills showed a ghostly tinge of green under their summer’s cloak of golden sun-dried grass; the first of the autumn rains had already fallen. It would have been a fair day, except for the thick drifts of dead men and horses on and around the hill where his rearguard had made their stand. Most of them were enemy—horse-archers from the wilds of Montana, men of the Church Universal and Triumphant. But more than enough were Montivalans; they’d held hard, the Yakima pike and crossbow regiments and the Association cavalry, and he’d arrived at just the right moment with another thousand lancers to be the hammer to their anvil.
“Soon,” he said to his High Queen looking eastward. “Not today; not tomorrow. But soon. The Prophet Sethaz will be here and ready.”
