Nancy Jane Moore is the author of the fantasy novel For the Good of the Realm, the science fiction novel The Weave, and the novella Changeling, all from Aqueduct Press. Her short fiction has appeared in a number of anthologies and magazines and in her collection from PS Publishing, Conscientious Inconsistencies. She holds a fourth degree black belt in Aikido.

In other lifetimes she organized co-ops, practiced law, and worked as a legal editor. A native Anglo Texan, she lived in Washington, DC, for many years and now lives with her sweetheart in Oakland, California. Over the last few years, she has developed good relationships with her neighborhood crows. She is currently working on a sequel to For the Good of the Realm.

For the Good of the Realm by Nancy Jane Moore

Anna d'Gart is both skilled with the sword and shrewd (not to mention discreet), a rare combination among the hot-tempered and rowdy Guards serving the King, Queen, and Hierofante, which is why she's always the Queen's first choice for carrying out sensitive assignments. Discovering that someone powerful is using magic to damage the Queen, Anna is plunged into political intrigue and a series of tough decisions. No fan of the uncanny, she's forced to enlist the assistance of a witch—whose magical practices are strictly prohibited in the Realm and condemned by the Church.

With the aid of her flirtatious friend and fellow Guardswoman Asamir and their friends Roland de Barthes and Jean-Paul of the King's Guard, Anna repeatedly matches wits with an opponent too powerful to be named. Intent on preventing war, preserving the Realm, and protecting the Queen despite the risks to herself and her fears about the ancient way of magic, Anna deploys all the means at her disposal—espionage, diplomacy, her sword, a powerful witch, and, of course, indomitable bravery.

 

REVIEWS

  • "For the Good of the Realm is a sparkling tournament of a novel, full of thrills as well as feats of storytelling bravado. Moore has invented a feminist medieval otherworld that is egalitarian in its sword and sorcery, yet political intrigue ultimately rules as Anna, a stalwart member of the Queen's Guard, collaborates with a range of surprising characters to foil the nefarious plots of a power-hungry Hierofante."

    – Lesley Wheeler, author of Unbecoming

  • "For the Good of the Realm is a splendid, swashbuckling romp that captures the very spirit of the Musketeers. The author weaves palace intrigue, swordplay, romance and divided loyalties into a deeply satisfying fantasy adventure with women at the center of the narrative, wielding and negotiating power."

    – Tansy Rayner Roberts, author of Musketeer Space and The Creature Court Trilogy

  • "This lighthearted, female-led fantasy adventure from Moore (The Weave) follows a pair of Queen's Guards—staid, circumspect Anna and feisty, impulsive Asamir—as they become embroiled in the machinations of the rulers of Grande Terre. … The sword fights and worldbuilding will appeal to fans of fantasies of manners in the vein of Ellen Kushner's works and historical adventure à la Dana Stabenow's Silk and Song. … With a principal cast of mostly women, this is sure to appeal to readers looking for stories of empowered female characters that go beyond simply giving them swords. "

    – Publishers Weekly, March 2021
 

BOOK PREVIEW

Excerpt

"The Adabarean must be overflowing its banks," Anna said as they sat shivering by the fire after having made sure their horses were dried off and under cover.

The innkeeper's daughter, who was bringing them steaming mugs, said, "Ah, my lady, if this keeps up even the great bridges will soon wash away."

Anna looked at Asamir, and they both sighed. If the bridge on the high road washed out, and the water stayed at flood stage, they would not reach the Capital before the ball. Anna eyed the girl. She seemed to be a person of more than usual resourcefulness. "I have heard it said that this is not a natural rain," Anna said in a low voice.

Asamir gave a sharp intake of breath and looked around to make sure no one else was listening to their conversation.

The girl raised an eyebrow, but did not look frightened. "Some of the travelers have observed that it is only raining along the high road, the one that leads to the Capital. And it should not be raining so hard, this time of year."

Anna took a coin from the purse, laid it casually on the table. "I wonder," she said, as if to Asamir, "if there might be a village wisewoman nearby who could advise me on this rain." For country people, Anna knew, would pray of a Sunday but follow the older ways should the occasion arise.

The girl looked at the coin, then at Anna, then back at the coin, considering. "They say, my lady, that the old woman who lives out on the edge of the forest knows her herbs and such. Perhaps she could advise you."

Anna pushed the coin along so that it was easily in the girl's reach. The girl shoved it quickly down into her pocket.

The directions were incomplete, and it was difficult to follow the path in the downpour, but despite all that, they soon arrived at a clearing in which sat a cottage and some outbuildings. As they moved from the path onto the homestead, the rain seemed to let up a little. They dismounted, leaving their horses in an open shed covered by a thatched roof, and walked toward the cottage. Anna had the sudden feeling that she had done this before: ridden a horse to this stead, left it in the shed, and walked to the cottage. She could not recall any such experience in her life, but the feeling was so overpowering that it took her deepest reserves of courage to put one foot in front of the other. Even just before a battle sure to be brutal, that time when the awareness one could die was at its zenith, she had never been so afraid.

Anna walked forward and rapped loudly on the door. The eaves of the roof dripped on the guardswomen's heads as they stood there, though they were so soaked through they scarcely noticed. When an old woman finally opened the door, she did not invite them in.

"Good dame," said Anna, "Could you not let two travelers caught in the storm dry themselves before your fire?"

"Travelers do not pass this way by chance, guardswoman. What want you here?"

Asamir, bristling at the remark, laid a hand on her sword.

The woman laughed, as Anna reached out to calm Asamir. "I should cooperate or you will take what I have, is that it?" Her open mouth showed she still had most of her teeth.

"No," said Anna. "We do not take. We ask, and we pay for services rendered." She took out her purse.

"Well, then, come in," the old woman said. She stepped back from the door, took a look at the purse, as if deciding how much gold it might contain, and then stepped over to put another log on the fire.

Once inside, Anna got a good look at the woman for the first time. The witch was tall and lean, with deep brown skin weathered by years and life outside. Her head was uncovered, showing a mass of silver and black curls. She looked directly at Anna and smiled as if in recognition.

Anna did not know the woman, or, at least, did not think she knew her, but there was something familiar about her, perhaps related to the earlier feeling of déjà vu. Was she being manipulated by the witch, or was there a simpler explanation? She took a deep breath to keep her fear at bay.

The witch gave her another smile, one that did not answer Anna's uncertainty but rather left it in the air between them. She waved her hand toward a low bench in front of the fire.

The guardswomen sat, though they were so wet that Anna thought they would not likely dry out even if they should sit in front of a good fire for a week. She said, trying for a casual tone to hide her disquiet, "It is a hard rain out there. Some have suggested that it might not be, well, a natural rain."

The old woman said, "Oh, come. Please do not waste my time being coy and careful. You've come because you think I can stop the rain, have you not?"

Anna threw caution to the wind and said, "Yes, we have."

Asamir made the gesture.

The woman snorted. "Will you pay to stop it?"

"Can you do it?"

"If you can make it worth my while. It is, as you say, not a natural rain. And only a fool meddles in the unnatural without fair compensation, particularly when she will also be meddling in the affairs of princes."

Asamir said, "Princes? Mean you the king?"

"Ah, guardswoman, there are all kinds of princes in the world. Princes of the realm, and princes of the church. Princesses as well. And all of them dangerous to any who might stand between them and their desires, be it queens, or soldiers, or witches."

The witch's words did not sound like a speech to drum up business, but rather like the matter-of-fact statement of someone who knew quite well what she was dealing with. Anna opened her purse and pulled out a gold coin, laying it on the bench beside her.

The woman smiled, but said nothing.

Anna took out a second, putting it on the first. And then, when no reaction came, she added a third.

"One more, my lady. One more, and the rain will plague you no more."

"And the bridge will be standing when we reach it?"

"Ah, yes," the woman said. "The bridge will be there." She laughed as she scooped up the coins.

Anna and Asamir made no move to go. The old woman said, "Well, now, you've made your request. Be off."

"But it is still raining."

"It will stop. Do you really want to watch what I do?" She looked straight at Asamir as she said this, and Asamir again made the religious gesture. "Go on, get on your way.