Deadly Games (Emperor’s Edge Book 3), by Lindsay Buroker

The previous entries in this series have been reviewed here for book 1, and here for book 2. There may well be spoilers for earlier instalments within this review.

Amaranthe and the assorted members of the Emperor’s Edge (think steampunk A-Team) return just as the fictional equivalent of the Olympics are being held. But athletes are going missing, and nobody knows why. The Emperor’s Edge sets about investigating, only for a couple of their most capable warriors to captured, leaving Amaranthe and the rest to try and work out where they are and how to save them.

The side-plot is trying to get a newspaper editor on-side to get some good PR to counteract the widely held but false perception of the group as terrorist, violent nutcases.

One thing I like about this series is the character development, which falls into neither the trap of becoming stale nor into overly rapid/inconsistent changes. The people do change in a natural, credible way, and while each individual adventure is largely self-contained, the underlying group dynamics evolve along the way (reminds me a little of Tales of the Ketty Jay, by Chris Wooding, in that regard).

Similarly, the tone remains as before, adventurous and occasionally a little serious without straying into grimdark. It’s a really easy read, a rollicking tale of good versus evil, with occasional moral ambiguity and genuine tensions between mercenaries. And the ending is very good as well.

In short, if you liked the first two entries in the series, the third book will also be right up your street. 

Thaddeus

Review of Fool’s Quest (book 2 of Fitz and the Fool), by Robin Hobb

Alarmingly quickly after finishing the first book (reviewed here) I polished off the second in this third trilogy by Robin Hobb. I’ll keep things as light as possible but there will necessarily be spoilers for the first book below.

Lashings of anguish and concern lace the storyline, which has twists that turn things around in a way that’s credible and fits perfectly with the characters and plot.

Bee and Shun have been taken, but Withywoods is far from Buckkeep and a lingering curse means word will be a long time coming. Will Fitz and his allies find out in time, or will his daughter and ward be spirited away to the unknown realm of Clerres, out of reach forever?

The story feels quite close rather than being grand in scale, but loses none of its impetus or urgency for that. Indeed, the more personal stakes make it more immediately sympathetic than a global war or suchlike. As an undertone, the ageing Fitz seeing the court change around him and his old ways becoming outdated has a sentimental realism that can be readily appreciated, whether the reader is old or not.

As before, I read this book far faster than my usual rather sedate pace, in much the same way I eat chocolate rather more enthusiastically than lesser treats. I’m taking a short break before I start the third and final book.

Thaddeus

Fool’s Assassin (book 1 of Fitz and the Fool), by Robin Hobb

What to say about this book? It’s as effortless and excellent to read as one can imagine, and brings me right back to the preceding trilogies, which are amongst the best fantasy I’ve ever read. Hobb excels at placing a reader in her characters’ shoes and extorting emotive responses (don’t think I’ve ever encountered a writer better at that). And this return to Fitz and the Fool is no different.

We return to an older Fitz, in a sort of relaxed retirement at his father’s old country estate. All is well, which is a sure sign it won’t be that way for long. He’s still in touch with old friends in the capital but isn’t really involved in politics, and hasn’t assassinated anyone for quite some time.

It’s Winterfest, and a messenger turns up. But what’s the message, and who’s the sender? And who are the unknown strangers that have shown up?

This is the third of a series of trilogies, so it makes little sense to start here if you’ve never read the previous ones, (the Farseer and Tawny Man trilogies) but if you have these continue the story in splendid fashion.

Thaddeus

Review: Rome and the Mediterranean, by Titus Livy

This is the last of Livy’s books I had to read, and is also the last in chronological order, dealing with Rome’s antics primarily in Greece and Asia Minor (with other diversions in Iberia and Italy) during the first half of the 2^nd century BC.

It follows shortly after the end of the Second Punic War, so Hannibal is still around, as is Scipio Africanus, and it’s interesting to note that neither great man ended his days as he perhaps deserved. This is very much a purple patch for Republican Rome, a time of successful wars and expanding influence, the most significant steps since claiming Sicily in the journey to transforming the Mediterranean into a Roman pond.

Livy, as ever, is very easy to read and his mention of sources (often disbelief in lesser historians and backing up some details by citing Polybius as the origin) is useful. Perhaps more than the military endeavours it’s the individual (or cult) human stories that make the greatest impression. Philip V of Macedon and his family squabbles are a true classic tragedy, and the alarming changes and rise of Bacchus’ worshippers was as engaging to read about as it was disturbing.

There’s a pretty much continuous run of wars, primarily focused on Greece. The Romans receive an invitation to thwart Philip’s hegemonic ambitions and, given he sided with Hannibal during the Second Punic War, the Romans are only too pleased to accept. To the west, Iberian tribes continually rebel, and lose, and end up being pacified at the point of a sword. Similarly, Gauls in northern Italy reacquaint themselves with the hobby of losing to Roman armies.

And yet this military dominance is starkly contrasted by the seeming increase of bending the rules of the state, allowing personal feelings to override a sense of duty. The enervation of discipline in the luxury afforded by victory may have its very earliest origins here. The Bacchic depravities are the most obvious sign, but there are vendettas in the Senate (although these were present earlier as well). Some stark counterpoints exist, such as Marcus Porcius Cato and Lucius Aemilius Macedonicus, but the former was loathed for his energetic time as censor and the latter had to fight his own troops to be awarded a triumph because they disliked the old-fashioned discipline imposed upon them during his successful prosecution of the final war against Perseus’ Macedon.

It’s also interesting to note certain families having great sway and wondering how the early empire might have looked if we’d have Aemilius, Metellus, or Flaminius as the noble family rather than the Julio-Claudians of Caesar.

In short, if you enjoyed Livy’s other books you’ll certainly enjoy this one.

Thaddeus