The Lord-Protector's Daughter (Corean Chronicles Series #7)

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Mykella, the eldest daughter of the Lord-Protector of Lanachrona, discovers that someone is diverting significant sums of money from her father?s treasury. Soon, a series of fatal and near fatal accidents occur to members of her family and trusted retainers. Then there are attempts to remove Mykella and her sisters from the capital by marrying them off.

While Mykella develops a solid idea of who stands behind it all, her every attempt at a solution is used to discredit ...

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The Lord-Protector's Daughter (Corean Chronicles Series #7)

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Mykella, the eldest daughter of the Lord-Protector of Lanachrona, discovers that someone is diverting significant sums of money from her father’s treasury. Soon, a series of fatal and near fatal accidents occur to members of her family and trusted retainers. Then there are attempts to remove Mykella and her sisters from the capital by marrying them off.

While Mykella develops a solid idea of who stands behind it all, her every attempt at a solution is used to discredit her.  But Mykella is also discovering her talent for magic.

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Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly

Modesitt returns to the setting of two earlier trilogies with a stand-alone novel that keeps readers engaged right up to the perfunctory conclusion. As oldest daughter of the ruler of Lanachrona, Mykella has high rank but no real power. Though intelligent and diligent enough to uncover an embezzlement plot, she cannot inherit and expects to be married off for political alliance. Then she receives a supernatural warning of danger and is told she must discover her psionic Talent to save her loved ones. As she struggles to defeat both evil nonhuman powers and treachery within her own family, her fumbling but determined efforts are endearing. Unfortunately, the abrupt ending leaves unresolved the larger issues of the role of magic in public life and the position of women in society. (Nov.)

Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
From the Publisher
Praise for The Corean Chronicles

“Modesitt reveals again why success follows his novels. The characters are flawless, his world building continues to enchant and there is always plenty of conflict and mystery.”

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews on The Lord-Protector's Daughter

“A near-classic fairy tale.”

—Booklist on The Lord-Protector's Daughter

“The characters have become more fascinating with each novel; moreover, this one includes even more action than either of its predecessors . . . which contributes mightily to brining the adventures of Dainyl, Alector of Corus, and Mykel, an officer in the native military corps, to a stunning conclusion while leaving enough unanswered questions for many more Corean stories.”

Booklist (starred review) on Soarer’s Choice

“Modesitt’s well-developed characters, including his typically ethical protagonists, the unraveling of various Alector plots, and the action-packed revolt sequences will attract new readers to join Modesitt’s many fans anxiously awaiting this volume.”

—VOYA on Soarer’s Choice

“A thunderous, satisfying climax. . . . ranks among [Modesitt’s] best work.”

Publishers Weekly (starred review) on Soarer’s Choice

“Corus is a fascinating land, full of both new and ancient magic, and the inhabitants are possibly the most fascinating of all, with complex motivations underpinning their every action.”

Romantic Times BOOKreviews on Alector’s Choice

“A powerful, enthralling and exciting fantasy epic. . . . The protagonist is a hero for going into battle against an enemy that is more powerful than he is. His love for his wife adds a romantic dimension that humanizes the larger than life champion. Scepters is an outstanding fantasy.”

—Midwest Book Review

Legacies is for people who . . . want to see their characters grow and like to fill in the blanks themselves rather than have the author do it for them. . . . With a likable character in an intriguing land, Legacies is off to a promising start.”


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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780765321633
  • Publisher: Doherty, Tom Associates, LLC
  • Publication date: 11/11/2008
  • Series: Corean Chronicles Series , #7
  • Edition description: First Edition
  • Pages: 288
  • Product dimensions: 6.10 (w) x 9.40 (h) x 1.10 (d)

Meet the Author

L. E. Modesitt, Jr., is the bestselling author of the fantasy series The Saga of Recluce, Corean Chronicles, and the Imager Portfolio. His science fiction includes Adiamante, the Ecolitan novels, the Forever Hero Trilogy, and Archform: Beauty. Besides a writer, Modesitt has been a U.S. Navy pilot, a director of research for a political campaign, legislative assistant and staff director for a U.S. Congressman, Director of Legislation and Congressional Relations for the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, a consultant on environmental, regulatory, and communications issues, and a college lecturer. He lives in Cedar City, Utah.

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Read an Excerpt


In the late afternoon of Octdi, Mykella dismounted at the base of the ramp leading to the north end of the Great Piers of Tempre. The top of the ramp ended some twenty yards short of the squarish one-story stone structure that held the portmaster and his clerks. Immediately to the north of the portmaster’s building stood the shimmering green tower that dominated the northern end of the Great Piers of Tempre.

Behind Mykella, her younger and taller sister Rachylana also dismounted, if reluctantly, as did two of the four Southern Guards, in their uniforms of spotless dark blue, assigned to guard them, for none of the three daughters of the Lord- Protector of Lanachrona went anywhere outside the palace without an escort.

Mykella hurried up the ramp, and Rachylana followed, the two guards bringing up the rear. At the top of the ramp, Mykella slowed and glanced back at her sister. “Do you want to come in?”

“Why would I want to do that?”

Instead of snapping that Rachylana might learn something, Mykella forced a smile. “I won’t be long.”

“Not more than a glass, I’d imagine. I’ll wait out here.” Rachylana walked farther west, her fl amelike mahogany hair barely kept in place by a dark maroon headband against the west wind coming off the water of the wide River Vedra. The wind was chill enough that the slightly acrid odor of the waters around the Great Piers was almost unnoticeable, and since the wind was directly from the west, it didn’t pick up the far more odoriferous scents from the pens to the southwest where the towing oxen were kept when they were not hauling barges upstream or riding them downstream to begin the process all over again.

Two of the guards waited with Rachylana, as the other two followed Mykella.

The Great Piers were composed of the long base, an expanse of unchanging gray eternastone that stretched nearly a vingt from north to south along the east side of the river, and the more than fifteen stubby river wharves, eternastone fingers some thirty yards in length jutting out into the river. At the far south end of the Great Piers stood a second green tower, identical to the first, each soaring more than sixty yards into the silver-green sky. The towers were hollow shells, each with a single door at the base, but without stairs or any sign within that there had ever been any way to reach the top. Nor were there any windows or signs of any rooms in the tops of the towers, or in the others—identical—scattered across all of Corus.

More than half the piers had either sailing craft or barges moored to them. Carts and wagons were scattered across the short piers, some being loaded, but the majority being unloaded. Seemingly ignoring the chaos on the piers, Mykella walked briskly to the portmaster’s door that faced the river and opened it. Two guards followed her step for step as she entered.

Inside, a squat white-haired man immediately rose and hurried to the long counter that separated the waiting area from the three clerks who appeared to be checking invoices for the purpose of levying the proper tariffs. One had only begun that process when he had seen Mykella, she noted.

“Portmaster Chaenkel,” Mykella said pleasantly.

“Mistress Mykella, let me bring you the summary ledgers.”

“Thank you.”

At the left end of the counter, a grizzled bargemaster glanced toward Mykella and the pair of guards behind her, then looked quickly away and back at the clerk who stood waiting for him to finish declaring his cargo so that the form could be completed and the proper tariff levied—after


Chaenkel set the ledger before Mykella.

She began to study the entries for the week, of the sailing traders and the numbers of barges that had ported and departed, both those towed laboriously upstream, and those headed downstream with the current and guided by long sweeps. Most of those headed downstream were departing lighter than they had arrived, since, as the capital of Lanachrona, Tempre was generally a destination port, although wines from the Vyanhills and glassware from Krost were sought throughout the entire west of Corus, from frigid Northport to Southgate.

The total number of barges and other vessels was only three less than the total for the previous week, and the total of tariffs levied was close to the same. Mykella nodded and straightened.

“Thank you, Portmaster. How do you think the trading and traffic have been?”

Chaenkel furrowed his brow, then tilted his head. “It’d be hard to say, Mistress. Not all that different from last week. It seems about the same as it should be for this time of year.” He smiled, ruefully. “When you get to be my age, the years blur, but I’d know if things were greatly different.” He nodded. “That I would.”

“Are we getting much trade from the east?”

“Not any more than one would expect now that we’re into winter. No less, either, from what I’ve seen. A bit more iron from the Iron Valleys. Nightsilk—who can say? That comes overland and under guard.”

Mykella nodded to that. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, Mistress.”

Mykella turned. As she walked from the building, followed by the two Southern Guards, behind her Mykella heard the bargemaster.

“. . . is she? Not seen her before . . .”

“Lord- Protector’s eldest . . . checks on tariffs . . . since midsummer . . .”

Had it been for less than two seasons? It seemed longer than that to Mykella.

Once back out on the Great Piers, Mykella continued to where Rachylana was standing. Just short of her sister, she paused to watch as a trading vessel eased out into the current and spread its sails, struggling upriver against the current. Was the trader bound for Borlan or farther east, perhaps to Salaan, the easternmost river port in Lanachrona before the Vedra became unnavigable?

“What was it like, I wonder, when people could travel upstream without sails or oars?” she asked.

“Do you really believe those absurd tales about the Alectors? How could anyone?” Rachylana sniffed. “I mean . . . flying on creatures with wings as wide as sails, and on ships that had no sails or oars at all, and the River Vedra boiling over when it all came to an end in the Great Cataclysm. And soarers—little winged women who floated in midair, yet destroyed giant Alectors. In hundreds of years, no one has ever found the remains of anything like that. Really, I could write a better story myself.”

“Perhaps you should,” Mykella said blandly, knowing patience to write anything of length was hardly one of her sister’s strengths.

“Why bother? Anyone with any sense thinks they’re just stories for children.”

“Then who built the eternastone highways, and why are the old buildings built so large?” asked Mykella. “We’ve both seen chairs in the storerooms that are too large for the largest man to sit in them, and the steps in the palace are all too high to be comfortable climbing them.”

“It’s all nonsense,” rejoined Rachylana. “They’re just ceremonial chairs built for past Lords- Protector who wanted to seem larger, and the stairs are to make anyone who enters uncomfortable in the presence of the Lord- Protector.”

Mykella refrained from pointing out that an overlarge throne or chair only made a large man seem smaller, and a man of average size seem insignificant. Rachylana wasn’t about to listen to anything that reasonable.

“You’re done, now, aren’t you?” Rachylana snapped, re-buttoning the top flap of her dark maroon jacket. “I’m freezing. It is winter, you know?”

“Barely,” replied Mykella. Octdi was the eighth day of the week, the last full working day before the end-days of Novdi and Decdi, and this particular Octdi was the second of the winter. Besides, Tempre never got as cold as the Iron Valleys did, the forbidding lands that stretched northward from the far side of the Vedra, reaching almost to the Ice Sands that bordered the Aerlal Plateau.

“I still don’t see why you need to come here every Octdi—”

“I’m checking with the portmaster to see how many traders ported this week, compared to the week before. The tariff ledgers in the palace just show the totals collected. It’s not the same.”

“I don’t see why you spend so much time checking on river traders and talking to people like the portmaster . . . or those bargemasters.” Rachylana offered her most serious frown. “You’re the Lord- Protector’s daughter, not a clerk like Kiedryn.”

“If Father’s brother can be Finance Minister, I can certainly supervise the accounting,” Mykella replied. In any instance, doing that was far less boring than speculating about which son of which ruler in what adjoining land might decide to make an offer for her hand. Mykella preferred to avoid thinking about that eventuality at all.

“It’s hardly supervising. Father’s just letting you do it so that . . .” Rachylana’s voice trailed off.

“So that what?”

“So that you’ll know more about accounts when you get consorted, I suppose.”

Mykella knew very well that what Rachylana had said was not what she’d started to say, but let it pass.

“Can we go now that you’re done with whatever it was?” added Rachylana.

“You didn’t have to come,” Mykella pointed out. “Or did you think that Berenyt might want to escort us?”

“I thought it might be more interesting than helping Nealia or Auralya plan the dinner menus for next week.” Rachylana’s tone suggested that she would rather have planned menus, at least if her cousin Berenyt didn’t happen to take charge of their guard detail. That was highly unlikely, because Berenyt was a captain in the Southern Guards in charge of a whole company, and captains didn’t do escort duties, except on ceremonial occasions.

Rather than say more, Mykella strode away from her sister toward the mounts and the two guards who had remained at the foot of the piers with the mounts. She skipped to her left to avoid a porter guiding a loading barrow stacked with kegs of something, then hurried down the long eternastone ramp, whose surface had remained smooth and hard against any kind of abuse for generations, possibly thousands of years if the old tales that Rachylana dismissed were in fact correct. The two guards trailed the two sisters.

Beyond the base of the ramp waited the remaining guards and the horses. Mykella mounted the gray gelding, hating the fact that she was so short that mounting was always an acrobatic exercise whenever she wasn’t near a mounting block. But she refused to have anyone give her a leg up. At least, with practice, she’d turned it into a graceful acrobatic maneuver. It helped that she usually wore trousers and boots, much to the dismay of her father.

Although she was half a head taller than Mykella, Rachylana accepted the aid offered by one of the Southern Guards, even though she was wearing split riding skirts— maroon to match her riding jacket—and could have mounted unaided.

Mykella eased the gelding around and flicked the reins to direct her mount along the stone-paved road that led eastward to the Lord- Protector’s Palace—hardly more than a vingt east of the north end of the Great Piers.

“You always do that, you know?” Rachylana said, drawing her mount alongside Mykella.

“Do what?” replied Mykella.

“Walk away when you don’t want to talk about something.” Rachylana leaned sideways in the saddle and lowered her voice. “At least Berenyt jokes about things, and he’s good to look at.”

“He is very good-looking.” Mykella offered a smile, one she didn’t feel, even though she knew her sister would see through her facade. “He can be very humorous and charming. I’d hoped Jeraxylt might have been able to escort us.” She knew that was unlikely, because their brother, younger than Mykella herself but older than Rachylana, was still in training, although he was officially a junior officer in the Southern Guards.

“He’s escorting a visiting Seltyr from Southgate, Salyna said,” Rachylana said, her voice still low. “He might be an envoy from one of the Twelve.”

Mykella concealed a wince. There was only one reason a Seltyr from one of the Twelve who jointly ruled the trading city- state of Southgate would be in Tempre, and that was to look for a bride for either a widowed Seltyr or his son. Not the only reason, Mykella corrected herself, but one of the few. From everything she had heard about Southgate, she had no desire to go there, not where women were virtual prisoners and where even the winter was unbearably warm.

She glanced to her right. On the south side of the road, for the half vingt east and west of the palace, were the gardens planted by her grandfather. Even though the trees that were not evergreens were bare, she still enjoyed looking at the stone walks and hedges and banked flower beds, and the bridges over the stone-walled small streams. For the moment, both riding and the view took her mind off her growing concerns.

Mykella couldn’t help but worry. Chaenkel’s ledgers showed a very normal flow of trade, both of barges and free-sailing traders, but the master finance ledgers showed a decline in tariff revenues. She had her suspicions, but, at the moment, that was all that they were, and there was little enough that she could say, because her father only allowed her to monitor the finance accounts as a favor— until a suitable match for her was available.

“What are you going to wear to the ball?” asked Rachylana.

“The ball? That’s weeks away. I hadn’t even thought about it.”

“I suppose you haven’t. You should have, especially if there’s going to be an envoy there. You need to plan ahead if you want a dress made.”

“I have plenty of dresses.” More than she would really ever need, if she had her way.

“People have seen you in every one.”

“I’ll think about it,” Mykella conceded. She was far more worried about the golds missing from the tariff accounts.

Excerpted from The Lord- Protector's Daughter by L. E. Modesitt, Jr.

Copyright © 2008 by L. E. Modesitt, Jr.

Published in November 2009 by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.

All rights reserved. This work is protected under copyright laws and

reproduction is strictly prohibited. Permission to reproduce the material in

any manner or medium must be secured from the Publisher.

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4
( 16 )
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Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 16 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted July 10, 2012

    Kudos to the author

    A quick and satisfying read. Well worth it.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted March 28, 2010

    Steady developing plot, quick whirlwind ending

    Nice addition to this series, with many unexplored substories. Could have been stronger with developed supporting characters to play against.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 9, 2009


    I really looked forward to this book, to see how Mr Modesitt would continue this series. How disappointed I was when I had finished it. There seemed to be no reading in it before it was all done. The heroine clicked very quickly to her powers; there was little plot development outside of the daughter and it is almost as if this book was thrown out in a huge hurry to get in a quick buck. <BR/>Having said that, there is no way I would not buy the next in the series if there is to be one, as the potential is there. As long as he takes some time to develop as he can.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted September 13, 2008

    Excellent tale

    Since the vile Ifrits were defeated by Mykel and Rachyla, they and their descendents have ruled as the Lord Protector over Lanachrona and its neighbors. However, when leadership is past by hereditary, the Talent does not necessarily follow until one would be hard pressed to compare the current Lord Protector to Mykel.--------- Her father the Lord Protector plans for his daughter Mykella to marry a foreign royal in a political marriage. However, she wants much more than to be a pawn so she spends her time evaluating the accounts at the Finance Ministry where she notices a significant drop in tariff collections. She interviews traders, who insist they have paid more not less. She continues her investigation into the stolen gold, but soon some of the clerks she interrogated are murdered. Though fearing for her life and that of her loved ones, Mykella keeps digging trying to find proof for her father to take action.---------- This Corean investigative fantasy thriller is a terific sidebar tale that fans of the saga will enjoy and newcomers will find as an intriguing entry. The story line is shorter than the usual L.E. Modesitt, Jr. tome, but is incredibly fast-paced and action-packed. The amateur sleuth inquiries by the courageous heroine make for an enjoyable refreshing novel.--------- Harriet Klausner

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