Barrayar (Vorkosigan Saga)

Barrayar (Vorkosigan Saga)

Lois McMaster Bujold

Language: English

Pages: 352

ISBN: 1476781117

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

THIRD ENTRY IN A BELOVED SERIES. The Vorkosigan Saga spans over a dozen novels and has won multiple awards and sold 1.8 million copies.

Sick of combat and betrayal, Cordelia Vorkosigan is ready to settle down to a quiet life. But when the Emperor dies, her husband Aral becomes guardian of the infant heir to the imperial throne of Barrayar and the target of high-tech assassins in a dynastic civil war. But neither Aral nor Cordelia can guess the part that their cell-damaged unborn will play in Barrayar's bloody legacy. Winner of the Hugo Award.

About Lois McMaster Bujold:
“. . . all the virtues we have come to expect from Bujold, including more and more prose that sings.”—The Chicago Sun Times

“Bujold continues to prove what marvels genius can create out of basic space operatics.”—Library Journal

“Bujold is not just a master of plot, she is a master of emotion.”—SF Site

“Bujold is one of the best writers of SF adventure to come along in years.”—Locus Magazine

The Vorkosigan Series in Story-based Chronological Order
Falling Free
Shards of Honor
The Warrior's Apprentice
The Vor Game
Ethan of Athos
Borders of Infinity
Brothers in Arms
Mirror Dance
A Civil Campaign
Diplomatic Immunity
Captain Vorpatril's Alliance

Omnibus Editions
contains Cetaganda, Ethan of Athos

contains The Warrior's Apprentice + stories

contains Shards of Honor, Barayarr

contains Falling Free, Diplomatic Immunity

contains Komarr, A Civil Campaign

contains Brothers in Arms, Mirror Dance

The Spirit Eater (Legend of Eli Monpress, Book 3)

Resurrection Day (A Storm and Fury Adventure, Book 1)

Heart of Veridon (The Burn Cycle, Book 1)

Falls the Shadow

Fatal Descent (RM Outdoor Adventures Mystery, Book 3)

The Time Machine (Enriched Classics Edition)

















Cordelia's first encounters with Barrayaran culture, with Padma and Alys, with the Vorhalas clan, and the soltoxin attack were already written then. I did not yet have the ideas for the war of Vordarian's Pretendership; the action-plot upon which all this good stuff then hung was much weaker, making the decision to stop easier, if still a little heartbreaking. With much labor, and a lot of help from writer-friends, I revised and put Mirrors into proper submission format. I then went on to write

Carefully, now ... "But what was all that about seventeen replicators? And how did the baby get in the replicator? Was—was she an experiment?" "Placental transfer. A delicate operation, even by galactic standards, but hardly experimental. Look." Cordelia paused, thinking fast. "I'll tell you the truth." Just not all of it. "Little Elena is the daughter of Bothari and a young Escobaran officer named Elena Visconti. Bothari ... loved her ... very much. But after the war, she would not return with

Hospital. In Vorbarr Sultana. Which for all I know has just been captured by Vordarian's rebel forces ..." She shivered. Vaagen's lab was classified, nothing to draw anyone's attention. Miles was all right, all right, all right, and one crack in that thin shell of conviction would hatch out hysteria... . Aral, now, Aral could take care of himself if anyone could. So how had he been so caught-out, eh, eh? No question, ImpSec was riddled with treason. They couldn't trust anyone around here, and

aroma. They returned to the cavern, where Cordelia rested a while on the bedroll. She must insist on relieving Bothari soon. Come on, Kly... . Bothari's tense low voice reverberated in the cavern. "Milady. Sire. Time to go." "Kly?" "No." Cordelia rolled to her feet, kicked the pre-arranged pile of dirt over the last coals of their fire, grabbed Gregor, and hustled him out the cave mouth. He looked suddenly frightened and sickly. Bothari was pulling the bridles off the horses, loosing them and

didn't think Drou was at all fooled by Koudelka's pretense that they had stumbled into some sort of museum. Nor would Lady Vorpatril be, once she'd rested enough to regain her wits. Droushnakovi plunked down in a shabby padded armchair, wrinkling her nose at its musty smell. The others withdrew from the room. Koudelka went off to find whatever this old building used for a lavatory, and to try and buy them some food. An underlying tang to the air suggested to Cordelia that nothing in the

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