Dashti is a Mucker, a peasant from the steppes who, orphaned, seeks work in the city. She pledges herself to Lady Saren, and by choice is condemned with her lady to a seven-year imprisonment, walled up in a tower stocked with food but with only a flapped opening through which to jettison their waste. Lady Saren’s crime? In traditional narrative fashion, she refuses to participate in an arranged marriage, having promised herself to a younger, kinder man. While partaking of this trope, Book of a Thousand Days nonetheless has much that is original; Shannon Hale once again shows herself more than capable of constructing a fictional world that is both unique and internally consistent.
The Muckers’ tradition involves healing through song, a talent Dashti has been taught by her mother. When her abilities are discovered, she is taught to read and write in order to be trained as the condemned Lady Saren’s handmaiden. The story unfolds through Dashti’s diary, kept as a record of “our seven years in a tower and out adventures thereafter” (epigram). Much of the narrative is initially devoted to learning how Dashti reconciles the practicalities of imprisonment with her understanding of the duties of a handmaiden; her backstory is slowly revealed through her musings about Saren and her reflections on their predicament.
Saren is weak, both physically and emotionally, and Dashti has to be strong for them both while remaining subservient, a balance which becomes increasingly difficult to maintain. Saren refuses to marry Lord Kharsan not on principle, but out of fear; the young Khan Tegus, with whom she had been exchanging letters, is a safer man to tie herself to. On some level, though, she is afraid of him as well, and insists that Dashti impersonate her when Khan Tegus comes to see if he can garner their release. Lord Kharsan visits, too, and Dashti immediately understands Saren’s fear. He is more than intimidating: he is consummately evil, revelling in their fear and promising pain and even death should Saren become his. Dashti has to revisit her assessment of Saren’s choices.
Not unexpectedly, Dashti’s impersonation of Saren plays a pivotal role in the outcome of the novel, but to say more would lessen readers’ enjoyment. We know the girls escape; they then make their way to Khan Tegus’s city, and eventually (necessarily) come to his notice. How this all unfolds matters far less than how Hale presents her characters. Dashti’s voice is believable not only for its balance of intelligence with folk wisdom, but also in its consistency: rather, in its carefully calibrated development, as Dashti learns the ways of the gentry and where her meager power can best be exercised. As she learns to navigate her new world, her unshakable sense of self is strengthened; even in her fear, she knows who she is and refuses to behave elsewise. Saren, too, undergoes change; Dashti’s songs finally help her heal, giving her the strength in turn to help Dashti in her need. The hierarchy of mistress and maid blurs, and Saren admits: “Dashti is my sister. … we spent nearly three years locked in a tower and when we came out it was as if we were … being born anew” (296-7). Dashti, too, recognizes Saren’s development:
I’d seen my lady begin to change … but never until that moment had she looked like I thought gentry should. Like anyone should. More than a thousand days we’ve been together, more than a thousand songs I’ve sung for her, and only now, I think, do I see Saren truly begin to heal. (297-8)
Saren’s healing, and Dashti’s growing awareness of her own strengths, have forged a sisterhood out their at-times tenuous relationship. They have glimpsed each others’ souls, a source of solace and healing for both.