[LMB] Miles speculation
natali.vilic at gmail.com
Thu Jan 13 17:30:58 GMT 2011
On Wednesday, January 12, 2011 9:15 PM Amanda Zangari wrote:
> I don't think that Alys would have had an easy time with Vordarian's
> men, or been treated well
> at all, but I don't think she and Ivan would have gotten killed.
> Padma, possibly, because he
> is a soldier and could put up a fight.
Textev contradicts this (Piotr and Cordelia talking
while on the run):
"Will Captain Vorpatril be all-will Vordarian bother Lord and Lady
Vorpatril, do you think?" Alys Vorpatril's pregnancy was very close
to term. When she had visited Cordelia at ImpMil-only ten days ago?
-her gliding walk had become a heavy flatfooted waddle, her belly a
swaying high arc. Her doctor promised her a big boy. Ivan, he was
to be named. His nursery was completely equipped and fully decorated,
she had groaned, shifting her stomach uncomfortably in her lap, and
now would be a good time. . . .
Now was not a good time anymore.
"Padma Vorpatril will head the list. The hunt will be up for him,
all right. He and Aral are the last descendants of Prince Xav, now,
if anybody's fool enough to start up that damned succession-debate
again. Or if anything does happen to Gregor." He bit down on this last
line as if he might hold back fate with his teeth.
"Lady Vorpatril and the baby, too?"
"Perhaps not Alys Vorpatril. The boy, definitely."
And the Vordarian's security guard, when Alys was apprehended:
"What the hell are we supposed to do about this, Colonel?" asked
his lieutenant uneasily. His voice blended fascination with dismay
as he walked over to Lady Vorpatril and lifted her gown high. She
had gained weight, these last two months; her chin and breasts
were rounded, thighs thickened, belly padded out. He poked a curious
finger deep into that soft white flesh. She stood silent, trembling,
face on fire with rage at his liberty and eyes glistening dark with
tears of fear. "Our orders are to kill the lord and the heir. It
doesn't say her. Are we supposed to sit around and wait? Squeeze?
Cut her open? Or," his voice went persuasive, "maybe just take her
back to HQ?"
On Barrayar, possible heirs to the throne were always
the first target, one was or another.
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