Red Sister by Mark Lawrence (English) Paperback Book

Description: Red Sister by Mark Lawrence The international bestselling author of the Broken Empire and the Red Queens War trilogies begins a stunning epic fantasy series about a secretive order of holy warriors... At the Convent of Sweet Mercy, young girls are raised to be killers. In some few children the old bloods show, gifting rare talents that can be honed to deadly or mystic effect. But even the mistresses of sword and shadow dont truly understand what they have purchased when Nona Grey is brought to their halls. A bloodstained child of nine falsely accused of murder, guilty of worse, Nona is stolen from the shadow of the noose. It takes ten years to educate a Red Sister in the ways of blade and fist, but under Abbess Glasss care there is much more to learn than the arts of death. Among her class Nona finds a new family—and new enemies. Despite the security and isolation of the convent, Nonas secret and violent past finds her out, drawing with it the tangled politics of a crumbling empire. Her arrival sparks old feuds to life, igniting vicious struggles within the church and even drawing the eye of the emperor himself. Beneath a dying sun, Nona Grey must master her inner demons, then loose them on those who stand in her way. FORMAT Paperback LANGUAGE English CONDITION Brand New Author Biography Mark Lawrence is a research scientist working on artificial intelligence. He is a dual national with both British and American citizenship, and has held secret-level clearance with both governments. At one point, he was qualified to say, "This isnt rocket science—oh wait, it actually is." He is the author of the Broken Empire trilogy (Prince of Thorns, King of Thorns, and Emperor of Thorns), the Red Queens War trilogy (Prince of Fools, The Liars Key, and The Wheel of Osheim) and the Book of the Ancestor series (Red Sister). Review Praise for Red Sister"Fabulous, in-depth world building, great characters, and as always with Lawrence, plotting that is fresh and unpredictable...If you like fresh, take-no-prisoners fantasy, this is for you."—Rick Riordan, #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Burning Maze"Dark, passionate, tense, with a female hero anyone could relate to—I was utterly fascinated! This is no pretty, flowery tale, but one of vastly different people struggling to survive when a hostile government comes to power."—Tamora Pierce, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Battle Magic"The lyrical excellence of previous books is present in full force here and its fair to say that Mark Lawrence has evolved into a master of his craft. In Red Sister he has produced a novel that is as thought provoking as it is entertaining, and as poignant as it is ferocious. Highly recommended."—Anthony Ryan, New York Times bestselling author of The Waking Fire"In this stunning, action-filled series launch, Lawrence (Broken Empire trilogy) establishes a fantastic world in which religion and politics are sharp as swords, with magic and might held in the hands of wonderful and dangerous women. Impatient George R.R. Martin fans will find this a pleasing alternative until the next installment in his "A Song of Ice and Fire" saga arrives."—Library Journal, starred reviewPraise for the novels of Mark Lawrence"An excellent writer."—George R. R. Martin, New York Times bestselling author"Different than anything I have ever read."—Terry Brooks, New York Times bestselling author "An amazing series, and I eagerly anticipate Lawrences next literary effort, whatever it may be."—Peter V. Brett, New York Times bestselling author "Its not like anything Ive ever read before."—Rick Riordan, #1 New York Times bestselling author "Dark and relentless...A two-in-the-morning page-turner."—Robin Hobb, New York Times bestselling author "Epic fantasy on a George R. R. Martin scale but on speed."—Fixed on Fantasy "Mark Lawrences growing army of fans will relish this rollicking new adventure and look forward to the next one."—Daily Mail Review Quote Praise for Red Sister "Dark, passionate, tense, with a female hero anyone could relate to--I was utterly fascinated! This is no pretty, flowery tale, but one of vastly different people struggling to survive when a hostile government comes to power."--Tamora Pierce, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Battle Magic "The lyrical excellence of previous books is present in full force here and its fair to say that Mark Lawrence has evolved into a master of his craft. In Red Sister he has produced a novel that is as thought provoking as it is entertaining, and as poignant as it is ferocious. Highly recommended."--Anthony Ryan, New York Times bestselling author of The Waking Fire "In this stunning, action-filled series launch, Lawrence (Broken Empire trilogy) establishes a fantastic world in which religion and politics are sharp as swords, with magic and might held in the hands of wonderful and dangerous women. Impatient George R.R. Martin fans will find this a pleasing alternative until the next installment in his "A Song of Ice and Fire" saga arrives." --Library Journal, starred review Praise for the novels of Mark Lawrence "Different than anything I have ever read."--Terry Brooks, New York Times bestselling author "An amazing series, and I eagerly anticipate Lawrences next literary effort, whatever it may be."--Peter V. Brett, New York Times bestselling author "Its not like anything Ive ever read before."--Rick Riordan, #1 New York Times bestselling author "Dark and relentless...A two-in-the-morning page-turner."--Robin Hobb, New York Times bestselling author "Epic fantasy on a George R. R. Martin scale but on speed."--Fixed on Fantasy "Mark Lawrences growing army of fans will relish this rollicking new adventure and look forward to the next one."-- Daily Mail Excerpt from Book 1 No child truly believes they will be hanged. Even on the gallows platform with the rope scratching at their wrists and the shadow of the noose upon their face they know that someone will step forward, a mother, a father returned from some long absence, a king dispensing justice . . . someone. Few children have lived long enough to understand the world into which they were born. Perhaps few adults have either, but they at least have learned some bitter lessons. Saida climbed the scaffold steps as she had climbed the wooden rungs to the Caltess attic so many times. They all slept there together, the youngest workers, bedding down among the sacks and dust and spiders. They would all climb those rungs tonight and whisper about her in the darkness. Tomorrow night the whispers would be spent and a new boy or girl would fill the empty space she left beneath the eaves. "I didnt do anything." Saida said it without hope, her tears dry now. The wind sliced cold from the west, a Corridor wind, and the sun burned red, filling half the sky yet offering little heat. Her last day? The guard prodded her on, indifferent rather than unkind. She looked back at him, tall, old, flesh tight as if the wind had worn it down to the bone. Another step, the noose dangling, dark against the sun. The prison yard lay near-deserted, a handful watching from the black shadows where the outer wall offered shelter, old women, grey hair trailing. Saida wondered what drew them. Perhaps being so old they worried about dying and wanted to see how it was done. "I didnt do it. It was Nona. She even said so." She had spoken the words so many times that meaning had leached away leaving them just pale noise. But it was true. All of it. Even Nona said so. The hangman offered Saida the thinnest of smiles and bent to check the rope confining her wrists. It itched and it was too tight, her arm hurt where Raymel had cracked it, but Saida said nothing, only scanned the yard, the doors to the cell blocks, the outer buildings, even the great gates to the world outside. Someone would come. A door clanged open from the Pivot, a squat tower where the warden was said to live in luxury to rival any lords. A guardsman emerged, squinting against the sun. Just a guardsman: the hope, that had leapt so easily in Saidas breast, crashed once more. Stepping from behind the guardsman a smaller, wider figure. Saida looked again, hoping again. A woman in the long habit of a nun came walking into the yard. Only the staff in her hand, its end curled and golden, marked her office. The hangman glanced across, his narrow smile replaced by a broad frown. "The abbess . . ." "I aint seen her down here before." The old guardsman tightened his fingers on Saidas shoulder. Saida opened her mouth but found it too dry for her thoughts. The abbess had come for her. Come to take her to the Ancestors convent. Come to give her a new name and a new place. Saida wasnt even surprised. She had never truly thought she would be hanged. 2 The stench of a prison is an honest one. The guards euphemisms, the public smile of the chief warden, even the buildings faade, may lie and lie again, but the stink is the unvarnished truth: sewage and rot, infection and despair. Even so, Harriton prison smelled sweeter than many. A hanging prison like Harriton doesnt give its inmates the chance to rot. A brief stay, a long drop on a short rope, and they could feed the worms at their leisure in a convict ditch-grave up at the paupers cemetery in Winscon. The smell bothered Argus when he first joined the guard. They say that after a while your mind steps around any smell without noticing. Its true, but its also true of pretty much every other bad thing in life. After ten years Arguss mind stepped around the business of stretching peoples necks just as easily as it had acclimatized to Harritons stink. "When you leaving?" Davas obsession with everyone elses schedule used to annoy Argus, but now he just answered without thought or memory. "Seventh bell." "Seventh!" The little woman rattled out her usual outrage at the inequities of the work rota. They ambled towards the main holding block, the private scaffold at their back. Behind them Jame Lender dangled out of sight beneath the trapdoor, still twitching. Jame was the gravemans problem now. Old Man Herber would be along soon enough with his cart and donkey for the days take. The short distance to Winscon Hill might prove a long trip for Old Herber, his five passengers, and the donkey, near as geriatric as its master. The fact that Jame had no meat on him to speak of would lighten the load. That, and the fact two of the other four were small girls. Herber would wind his way through the Cutter Streets and up to the Academy first, selling off whatever body parts might have a value today. What he added to the grave-ditch up on the Hill would likely be much diminished-a collection of wet ruins if the days business had been good. ". . . sixth bell yesterday, fifth the day before." Dava paused the rant that had sustained her for years, an enduring sense of injustice that gave her the backbone to handle condemned men twice her size. "Whos that?" A tall figure was knocking at the door to the new arrivals block with a heavy cane. "Fellow from the Caltess? You know." Dava snapped her fingers before her face as if trying to surprise the answer out. "Runs fighters." "Partnis Reeve!" Argus called the name as he remembered it and the big man turned. "Been a while." Partnis visited the day-gaol often enough to get his fighters out of trouble. You dont run a stable of angry and violent men without them breaking a few faces off the payroll from time to time, but generally they didnt end up at Harriton. Professional fighters usually keep a calm enough head to stop short of killing during their bar fights. Its the amateurs who lose their minds and keep stamping on a fallen opponent until theres nothing left but mush. "My friend!" Partnis turned with arms wide, a broad smile, and no attempt at Arguss name. "Im here for my girl." "Your girl?" Argus frowned. "Didnt know you were a family man." "Indentured. A worker." Partnis waved the matter aside. "Open the door, will you, good fellow. Shes down to drop today and Im late enough as it is." He frowned, as if remembering some sequence of irritating delays. Argus lifted the key from his pocket, a heavy piece of ironwork. "Probably missed her already, Partnis. Suns a-setting. Old Herber and his cart will be creaking down the alleys, ready for his take." "Both of them creaking, eh? Herber and his cart," Dava put in. Always quick with a joke, never funny. "I sent a runner," Partnis said, "with instructions that the Caltess girls shouldnt be dropped before-" "Instructions?" Argus paused, key in the lock. "Suggestions, then. Suggestions wrapped around a silver coin." "Ah." Argus turned the key and led him inside. He took his visitor by the quickest route, through the guard station, along the short corridor where the days arrivals watched from the narrow windows in their cell doors, and out into the courtyard where the public scaffold sat below the wardens window. The main gates had already opened, ready to admit the gravemans cart. A small figure waited close to the scaffold steps, a single guardsman beside her, John Fallon by the look of it. "Just in time!" Argus said. "Good." Partnis started forward, then faltered. "Isnt that . . ." he trailed off, lips curling into a snarl of frustration. Following the tall mans gaze, Argus spotted the source of his distress. The Abbess of Sweet Mercy came striding through the small crowd of onlookers before the wardens steps. At this distance she could be anyones mother, a shortish, plumpish figure swathed in black cloth, but her crozier announced her. "Dear heavens, that awful old witch has come to steal from me yet again." Partnis both lengthened and quickened his stride, forcing Argus into an undignified jog to keep pace. Dava, on the mans other side, had to run. Despite Partniss haste, he beat the abbess to the girl by only a fraction. "Wheres the other one?" He looked around as if the guardsman might be hiding another prisoner behind him. "Other what?" John Fallons gaze flickered past Partnis to the advancing nun, her habit swirling as she marched. "Girl! There were two. I gave orders to- I sent a request that they be held back." "Over with the dropped." Fallon tilted his head towards a mound beside the main gates, several feet high. Stones pinned a stained grey sheet across the heap. The gravemans cart came into view as they watched. "Damnation!" The word burst from Partnis loud enough to turn heads all across the yard. He raised both hands, fingers spread, then trembling with effort, lowered them to his sides. "I wanted them both." "Have to argue with the graveman over the big one," Fallon observed. "Thisun"-he reached for the girl at his side-"youll have to argue with me over. Then those two." He nodded at Dava and Argus. "Then the warden." "Therell be no arguing." The abbess stepped between Fallon and Partnis, dwarfed by both, her crozier reaching up to break their eye contact. "I shall be taking the child." "No you wont!" Partnis looked down at her, brow furrowed. "All due respect to the Ancestor and all that, but shes mine, bough Details ISBN1101988878 Author Mark Lawrence Short Title RED SISTER Pages 496 Language English ISBN-10 1101988878 ISBN-13 9781101988879 Series Book of the Ancestor Year 2018 Publication Date 2018-02-27 Series Number 1 Country of Publication United States AU Release Date 2018-02-27 NZ Release Date 2018-02-27 US Release Date 2018-02-27 UK Release Date 2018-02-27 Place of Publication New York Publisher Penguin Putnam Inc Format Paperback Imprint Ace Books DEWEY FIC Audience General We've got this At The Nile, if you're looking for it, we've got it. With fast shipping, low prices, friendly service and well over a million items - you're bound to find what you want, at a price you'll love! TheNile_Item_ID:117748288;

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