The Ben-Elim, a fierce race of warrior-angels, burst into the Banished Lands over a hundred and thirty years ago. They were in pursuit of their eternal enemy, the Kadoshim demon-horde. On that day a great battle was fought, the Ben-Elim and Kadoshim joined by allies from the races of both men and giants, and a great victory was won.

Now much of the Banished Lands is ruled by the Ben-Elim, who have made this world their home, extending their influence and power as they swallow ancient kingdoms into the protective grasp of their ever-extending borders. But peace is fragile within the realm and the Kadoshim that remain are now amassing on the edges of the empire....

Threats long in the shadows are about to strike.

I've been wondering when best to post this, as the book's official release won't be until January 2018. But then, I've had a very early review copy, and could gush about it for days. If you're reading this now, it means my excitement won against my patience. Either way, I'd recommend this novel wholeheartedly, with the caveat that if you have not read John Gwynne's The Faithful and the Fallen series, you damn well should do that first. There's still time to pull it off and be ready for launch!

Beware! With A Time of Dread being set well over a century after the conclusion of The Faithful and the Fallen, there will be spoilers in here. Come back once you read the rest of John's books!

The Story:

"The Ben-Elim, a fierce race of warrior-angels, burst into the Banished Lands over a hundred and thirty years ago. They were in pursuit of their eternal enemy, the Kadoshim demon-horde. On that day a great battle was fought, the Ben-Elim and Kadoshim joined by allies from the races of both men and giants, and a great victory was won.

Now much of the Banished Lands is ruled by the Ben-Elim, who have made this world their home, extending their influence and power as they swallow ancient kingdoms into the protective grasp of their ever-extending borders. But peace is fragile within the realm and the Kadoshim that remain are now amassing on the edges of the empire....

Threats long in the shadows are about to strike."

Disclaimer

I loved John Gwynne's The Faithful and the Fallen series and reviewed all four books. John happened to like my reviews and messaged me on Goodreads about whether I'd be okay with him forwarding them to his publicist, Don Shanahan. That was way back in April 2017. In late September, Don emailed me with an offer for a very early review copy for A Time of Dread - this book right here. Of course I jumped at that offer, considering Wrath was my favorite novel of 2016. I received my copy in early October. Despite getting to read it for free this early, I still have the retail paperback edition preordered anyway, because it was just that good and I actively want to vote with my wallet.
Make of that what you will, I'm just trying to be transparent about how this came about and how much I love John's works to date.

The Review:

A Time of Dread is a fantastic novel through and through. It feels immediately familiar if you've read The Faithful and the Fallen - which you should - while being more focused than the former, due to a simpler political landscape and fewer point of view characters.

There are no slow or dull chapters in Dread, which should excite readers who thought that the previous series' opener, Malice, meandered a bit too much and switched points of view too frequently. The count of point of view characters is down to a mere four, whereas Malice had seven. On top of that, the characters feel more and more connected to the ongoing core plotline, whereas in the early TFatF books, things felt more separate for a time and the hero and villain of old prophecies did not actually meet until very late in the series.

A Time of Dread sidesteps those growth problems by virtue of having a central threat from the start: The Kadoshim, the dark lord Asroth's brood. On the flipside, the Ben-Elim of Elyon have made the Banished Lands their new home, and despite their angelic appearance, they have been turning the various kingdoms into a nation of their own, while intent on hunting down what Kadoshim remain in the world. This, in turn, causes tensions as they conquer old, independent nations and exert tithes from their flock to maintain the war effort against their dark cousins.

There are three important factions in this one, rather than the various kingdoms of the previous series, from Ardan over Cambren, Isiltir to Tenebral. Instead, the Land of the Faithful, the Ben-Elim's domain, covers about half the map to the east, whereas the west hosts the kingdom of Ardain, which has good relationships with the Order of the Bright Star, founded by Corban after the events of The Faithful and the Fallen.
As a reader of the previous series, you'll find a lot to love here, although we don't see much of Dun Seren, the Order's home, just yet. A lot of details made me very nostalgic, though, and there are even some surprise cameos.

As you might imagine from TFatF, the Order and the Ben-Elim aren't on the greatest terms. Despite their shared enemy, the Kadoshim, they are filled with mistrust for one another, which is also independently reinforced here through a shared battle, which three of the four point of view characters connect to. Yes, this time around there's more connective tissue between the primary cast, whether they're aware of it or not. Either way, I really enjoyed reading the various tellings of said battle from different sources. It added depth to a conflict we only hear about, while providing different, biased perspectives to reinforce the ongoing strife.

The last faction of note are, obviously, the Kadoshim and their cultists. While they have been in hiding for a long time, their presence is still felt throughout the Banished Lands, both through the terror they project on villages and travelers and via the way their mere existence in the physical realm provokes the Ben-Elim into establishing a (benevolent) tyranny. Sometimes it was hard to really decide whether the Kadoshim really are the worst thing the world has to offer now... until characters you've grown to love start getting hurt. And it isn't like the Ben-Elim don't have their own troubles here either.

Through the resurgence of the Kadoshim's nefarious activities, we follow Sig of the Order - a giant who should be familiar already -, Bleda, taken in by the Ben-Elim as a child to force a peace between the rival tribes of Arcona, Riv, a young White-Wing aspirant living in the Ben-Elim's capital city of Drassil, and - my personal favorite of the four - Drem, son of a trapper in the northern Desolation, whose life gets a lot more complicated very quickly.

All of these characters are, of course, accompanied by other interesting people throughout their plotlines. Drem's father, Olin, for example, has a lot of life lessons to teach and his relationship with Drem and their circumstances living in the north are some of my personal highlights. There is real emotion here, along with the catalyst for future greatness. Interestingly, Drem shows signs of compulsive behavior and is, if anything, naive. He's probably closest to filling the farmboy-bound-for-greatness trope, as he starts with very little and throughout the novel learns more about the world, past conflicts and his place in all of it, while showing compelling personal growth and initiative.

Riv, meanwhile, is born into a strict regime built on faith and obedience. She aspires to filling the shoes of her mother and sister by becoming a White-Wing, the elite of the Ben-Elim's Land of the Faithful. She knows where she wants to be in life, yet struggles with her own wild emotions and the sneers of her peers. Riv is a bundle of energy and ambition. Her plotline was, to me, the most predictable though - which I cannot point out as a flaw, however. Gwynne managed to foreshadow her destination pretty well and it all connected satisfyingly while leaving many mysteries for the following books. Her's is the last scene in the book, and damn me did it make me want to read on already.

Bleda, in contrast, is basically a hostage of the Ben-Elim. Where Riv revels in dreams of serving the angelic host, Bleda is all too aware of his status as a ward in Drassil. He is being groomed, alongside his tribe's rival clan's heir Jin, as a pawn of his hosts, taught the ways of Elyon and history yet kept as a hostage to keep the clans of Arcona under control. Next to Olin and Sig, Bleda and his companion Jin offer the most critical view of the Ben-Elim - and the most direct one. Where Riv's chapters often depict the Ben-Elim's rule as natural and a good thing in general, Bleda's presence allows the author to show us the downsides of their reign.
Bleda's tribe values a lack of expression outside of the comfort of family, and even then, which puts him at odds with the White-Wings at times. His dynamics with both Jin and Riv ended up pretty interesting and I can't wait to see how his values will be tipped over the coming books.

Lastly, Sig the giant hunts the Kadoshim to the west and is accompanied by Cullen, an overeager descendant of a certain Bright Star, a huntsman with his wolven-hounds and, at times, a speaking crow called Rab. This one's a working team already, despite Cullen's rashness and desire to prove himself. Sig has seen it all, so this is where we get a bunch of soft flashbacks. Her role throughout makes a lot of things clear about the past century and more and does a good job bringing the reader up to speed on things. And yes, she rides a bear.
This bunch of heroes, young and old, really grew dear to me quickly. They're exciting to read about and hold some key roles this time. I also admit that I loved the easter eggs / references to the old series that this point of view character allowed for - I couldn't get enough of it! Sig's presence as a focal character also contrasted nicely with the three youngsters who have barely begun their adult lives. She unmistakenly fills the mentor role this time, reminding me of Gar and Brina in some ways. There are a bunch of really touching moments here, too.

I honestly struggle to find things wrong with this one. The pacing was steady from start to finish, it held my attention well enough to get me through some lengthy waiting room hours sitting at the doctor's, and all plotlines flowed well and complemented each other. Things quickly fell into place as details and perspectives added up to provide me with a full view of the ongoing conflict.
Even the internal conflicts of the protagonists are believably written and close to heart. I believe I actually teared up twice while reading, too. John managed to make me care for the entire cast really damn quickly and all of the four major characters had their own arc to pass through and a satisfying climax.

The antagonists are, in my opinion, creepier and even more inhuman than when we last saw them, showcasing just how bad having the Kadoshim in the world actually is, even when their liege-lord is effectively dead. There are a bunch of horrific scenes this time around, making it clear that the agents of evil are out in force. Where The Faithful and the Fallen had the antagonists slowly building up their power and influence, A Time of Dread starts with the long game almost at its conclusion, effectively skipping the preparation phase that the preceding series went through. The dangers of this new war feel more immediate and terrifying than the God War, where much of the early conflict was entirely human in nature.

A Time of Dread had a lot to live up to, with Wrath being my favorite novel of 2016. I crashed right through Malice, Valour and Ruin in record time in early 2016, too. It could have messed up the time skip - 130 odd years are no little thing - and changed too much, or felt like too much of the same. It could have banked too hard on fanservice. It could have had boring characters or conflicts. Yet it didn't do any of those things. It was gripping, felt familiar where it needed to while presenting new ideas and new landscapes, offered exciting new characters who felt like real, relatable people, and managed to focus its scope in an excellent way.

You can easily tell that John Gwynne's improved his skills when it comes to opening novels to a series in general. And if the plot hooks left for the sequels to explore are anything to go by, this trilogy will be a bloody good time for me, as a reader, if not necessarily for the protagonists...
If I had anything to complain about, it'd be that it is "just" a trilogy this time, rather than a four novel series, and that the novel was a bit shorter than a Faithful and the Fallen book. Which, of course, goes hand in hand with a lot of things I praised so far.

I am yearning for the next installment already. A Time of Dread officially releases on January 9/11, depending on your region. I'm already resigned to the fact that Amazon.de will, once again, mess up my preorder of the retail edition (because of course they will!), but at least this time I got a headstart... Not that it makes me any less impatient for the following two books of the Of Blood and Bone trilogy!

Thanks again to both John Gwynne and Don Shanahan for getting this one to me a few months early! It is much appreciated.

A Time of Dread on Goodreads

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Caught between his partner’s moral compass and a father’s desire for vengeance, will Royce turn the rivers of Rochelle red?

When Gabriel Winter’s daughter mysteriously disappears and is presumed dead, the wealthy whiskey baron seeks revenge. Having lived in Colnora during the infamous Year of Fear, he hires the one man he knows can deliver a bloody retribution—the notorious Duster.

Ride with Royce and Hadrian as the cynical ex-assassin and idealistic ex-mercenary travel to a mysterious old-world city filled with nobles claiming descent from imperial aristocracy. Riyria’s job appears easy: discover what happened to the missing duchess and, if she lives, bring her home . . . if not, punish those responsible. But nothing is simple in the crowded, narrow, mist-filled streets of Rochelle, where more than one ancient legend lurks.

I've been eagerly awaiting this one to become available on December 5th and finished it last night. I love Riyria and would recommend the series to basically everyone with a thing for fantasy. Be aware, though, that you might not find this book on Amazon just yet. The eBook and print are available directly through the author's website for now, and the Audiobook is available on Audible, but a wider release is still a few months out. This one's also a result of a successful Kickstarter campaign.

The Story:

"Caught between his partner’s moral compass and a father’s desire for vengeance, will Royce turn the rivers of Rochelle red?

When Gabriel Winter’s daughter mysteriously disappears and is presumed dead, the wealthy whiskey baron seeks revenge. Having lived in Colnora during the infamous Year of Fear, he hires the one man he knows can deliver a bloody retribution—the notorious Duster.

Ride with Royce and Hadrian as the cynical ex-assassin and idealistic ex-mercenary travel to a mysterious old-world city filled with nobles claiming descent from imperial aristocracy. Riyria’s job appears easy: discover what happened to the missing duchess and, if she lives, bring her home . . . if not, punish those responsible. But nothing is simple in the crowded, narrow, mist-filled streets of Rochelle, where more than one ancient legend lurks."

The Review:

The Disappearance of Winter's Daughter was a book I had been looking forward to since, well, since it was still titled Riyria Chronicles 4, unwritten and not even Kickstarted yet. Expectations were high, this being the 10th Riyria novel in total (6 Revelations and 3 Chronicles preceding it).

I still remember picking up Theft of Swords, the book collecting the first two novels, more on a whim than anything. The cover wasn't even that special, something that has changed since Marc Simonetti got to provide incredible art for The Death of Dulgath, Legends of the First Empire and now Winter's Daughter. Back then, I started listening to the audiobook of Theft of Swords while cooking dinner and found myself enjoying the first chapter of The Crown Conspiracy a great deal for how it introduced the heroes Royce and Hadrian in a somewhat whimsical manner while setting the stage for the world they inhabited. I felt comfortable with the duo pretty much immediately, and blasted through the entire 6 Riyria Revelations novels in short order.

Since then, I have read Michael J. Sullivan's first two Legends of the First Empire novels, Hollow World, and the four Riyria Chronicles novels so far. There has been no book that I haven't enjoyed in the lineup, and Winter's Daughter is no exception. Michael always says in his fore/afterwords of Chronicles that he writes them as stand-alone experiences and didn't want to drag the series out unnecessarily, but as long as people want more of Hadrian and Royce, there's room for sequels to the prequels.

I'm glad to say that The Disappearance of Winter's Daughter should easily secure at least a Chronicles 5, and is already poised with plot hooks for it. Nothing in this particular novel shows signs of Michael slowing down when it comes to the Riyria duo. From prose to pacing to interesting plot ideas, a fantastic cast of side characters and the ever-expected witty dialogue and squabbling between the two friends, Winter's Daughter feels once more like coming home. Or, to put it differently, like inviting two old friends back into your home, having waffles for breakfast and having awkward conversations about unicorns and polka dots. In yet other words, I loved it.

The Disappearance of Winter's Daughter takes our rogues to the city of Rochelle to bring down bloody vengeance on the Duke for possibly having murdered his wife, the daughter of whiskey baron Gabriel Winter. Things aren't quite so easily solved, however, and with conspiracies, revolutions and a race against time unfolding, Royce and Hadrian are forced to reflect not only on the living situations of Mir, elf-human mixed breeds, dwarves and Calians in an ancient gothic city raised on tradition, piety and superstition, but also on their own lives and choices throughout.

The book is chock-full with great moments, adds background to Hadrian and Royce alike, brings the couple even closer together and, to my delight, ties a few more knots to connect the prequel Chronicles to the Revelations. Michael J. Sullivan is a master at making his world of Elan feeling interconnected and dynamic, whether it be through small easter eggs or a wider mythology. I'm sure I even overlooked a few of these points of interest due to how long it has been since I read the Riyria Revelations - which only encourages me more to do a full re-read of the series. But even if you haven't read them yet in the first place, you'll eventually appreciate how much clever little foreshadowing happens here as well.

The new, and expanded on, side characters were honestly delightful as well. From Mercator Sikara, the Mir trying to find compromises and protect her people, over Evelyn Hemsworth, the old "hag" renting out her room to Royce and Hadrian and always, always added a motherly snark to a scene, to Duchess 'Genny' herself, the novel is stocked with interesting, dynamic and even inspiring characters. The villains, too, feel authentic and offer a proper challenge or three. There was never a dull moment, but plenty of laughter. It is incredible to me how well this entry straddles the line between being a depressing story about real oppression where even children may end up dead in an alley, and being a humorous adventure full of Jiggery-Pokery.

It is a rare series that, even 10 books in, with a 6 novel ancient-prequel series written and for the most part ready for publication, and a bridge series in the planning stages, can feel at the same time utterly comfortable and yet exciting and refreshing, like a soft spring breeze that manages to brush away the past winter's frustrations. With Riyria, I know what I'm in for before picking the book up for the first time; I know that I'll enjoy myself, the story and the characters and can just lean back and enjoy the ride. It puts me into an awkward position between wanting to finish the novels quickly and drawing them out as best I can, to have something to look forward to the following day as well.

In the end though, I really don't want to spoil the adventure. I'll just say that, whether or not you have read Riyria before, this book will entertain and excite you on its own merits, and if you have read other installments, you'll end up with even more to appreciate.

And one more note on the audiobook release, since that was my go-to format for a Sullivan novel as well:
Tim Gerard Reynolds hits it out of the park yet again (making me even sadder that Haikasoru hasn't been commissioning him for Legend of the Galactic Heroes audiobooks lately, or rather, stopped doing them entirely, because then I'd be in for another ride with the man right now!). Tim has been one of my absolute favorite narrators for a while, and his chemistry with Michael's books is astounding. He is the voice of Royce and Hadrian and, even when reading an unrecorded short story, his voice rings in my head. With the entire series available on Audible, I'd encourage you to give his narrations a try if you have even a passing interest in having books read to you.

Now, I really just want to know about that sodding diary, so please, Michael, write Chronicles 5 plenty soon, alright?

The Disappearance of Winter's Daughter on Goodreads

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Inquisitor Covenant and his warband go on the hunt for a traitor within their holy order.

War rages in the Caradryad Sector. Worlds are falling to madness and rebellion, and the great war machine of the Imperium is moving to counter the threat. Amongst its agents is Inquisitor Covenant. Puritan, psyker, expert swordsman, he reserves an especial hatred for those of his order who would seek to harness the power of Ruin as a weapon. Summoned to an inquisitorial conclave, Covenant believes he has uncovered such a misguided agent and prepares to denounce the heretic Talicto before his fellows. But when the gathering is attacked and many left dead in its wake, Covenant vows to hunt down Talicto and discover the truth behind the mysterious cult apparently at the heart of the massacre. In the murky plot into which he is drawn, Covenant knows only one thing for certain: trust no one.

This one took me a while to get through, and a while to review. Like, you know, about everything these past six months or so. Apologies.

I'm not feeling too good about this review, to be honest. John French is a solid author overall and I've enjoyed most of his works. His Warmaster audio drama script is one of my favorite pieces of Black Library fiction ever. Reading over this review, I feel like a fusion of Negative Nancy and Debbie Downer. So I want to preface by saying that I still consider Resurrection worth reading, despite my many gripes.

The Story:

"Inquisitor Covenant and his warband go on the hunt for a traitor within their holy order.

War rages in the Caradryad Sector. Worlds are falling to madness and rebellion, and the great war machine of the Imperium is moving to counter the threat. Amongst its agents is Inquisitor Covenant. Puritan, psyker, expert swordsman, he reserves an especial hatred for those of his order who would seek to harness the power of Ruin as a weapon. Summoned to an inquisitorial conclave, Covenant believes he has uncovered such a misguided agent and prepares to denounce the heretic Talicto before his fellows. But when the gathering is attacked and many left dead in its wake, Covenant vows to hunt down Talicto and discover the truth behind the mysterious cult apparently at the heart of the massacre. In the murky plot into which he is drawn, Covenant knows only one thing for certain: trust no one."

The Review:

Resurrection feels like a tricky novel to rate and review. I was anticipating its release a great deal, it being one of the two new Inquisitor novels this year, and unlike Chris Wraight's The Carrion Throne with its original cast, John French's series promised to drag Inquisitor Covenant into the limelight. Covenant originally appeared in the Inquisitor specialist game by Games Workshop and, as a result, is about as venerable a character as Gregor Eisenhorn. Him and his henchmen deserved the best treatment possible, which I was sure John could deliver.

Sadly, I came away from it with mixed feelings all around. Resurrection was far from what I was hoping for, at times formulaic and at others pretty out there. Its biggest problem, especially when put up against the classic Eisenhorn: Xenos, is that it doesn't feel like a compelling, self-contained narrative. Many points set up future novels, like the sequel Incarnation, due in 2018. But in the process of setting up many branches, the core of the novel felt strangely out of focus. This I'd attribute mostly to how John chose to present "his" Inquisitor. Whereas Dan Abnett's Eisenhorn trilogy gives us a first person narrative from the man himself, and Wraight's Carrion Throne offers viewpoint chapters for Inquisitor Crowl, Resurrection places Covenant into an awkward position. He is a peripheral character in his own first novel outing, felt just beyond your field of vision, but rarely at its center. Understanding him as a character proves a difficult, nebulous endeavour - which I will assume was the author's intent. It just so happens that it did not manage to grip me as a result of that.

Now, I'm no stranger to having to puzzle things out on my own. Heck, that's one of the main reasons I adore Peter Fehervari's stories so much - they make the reader get involved and think through implications, hints and connect dots themselves. I just did not feel like French managed to pull it off here. There's too little to go on to form any halfway solid picture of Covenant. Even what is straight up said about him by his henchmen, like preacher Josef Khoriv, himself a character from Inquisitor, only gives the reader rough strokes while keeping his master mysterious. We find out tidbits about Covenant's past from second hand sources, biased ones at that, and everybody in his retinue seems to avoid discussing much of anything beyond the immediate action. What worked in short stories like The Purity of Ignorance, which I loved, or the Agent of the Throne: Blood and Lies audio drama, didn't really hit home here. Covenant is not the hero of his own novel, and that is a damned shame.

Likewise, Covenant's retinue didn't really appear to have a proper connection to the master. Josef would probably be the most interesting and fleshed-out character of the bunch, having been with Covenant for long enough to care for him, and even Idris, to a great degree. His character arc felt a bit stunted, though. It was still satisfying, but I expected certain things to happen that never did. The book also ended without really exploring the changes to his mindset properly, which I assume will be a larger point in the sequel.
Sister Repentia Severita meanwhile was, as is to be expected, almost entirely defined by her own zealotry and I never warmed up to her much. Koleg, in the Dramatis Personae only described as "Specialist", was a character I often forgot existed.
At least the Von Castellan siblings Cleander and Viola were great to read about for how they juxtaposed Cleander's selfdoubts and feeling of being out of place in his own role with Viola's inherent competence and meticulousness. I hope their roles will stay as interesting in the follow-ups.

On top of the issue of characters never feeling fully formed throughout, the plot has some problems as well. At the center, Covenant is hunting a radical colleague who has been creating daemonhosts left and right and may be part of the Horusian sect within the Inquisition itself. The Horusians share their origins with the Thorians, which Covenant himself counts himself among, but their purposes follow far more sinister lines. Where Thorianism concerns itself with the resurrection of the God-Emperor and follows more puritanical philosophies, the Horusians are radicals working towards harnessing Chaos to create an unholy avatar for the Emperor's soul. Resurrection tries to play off these two sides of the resurrectionist coin, and doesn't do a bad job at it when it takes center stage, but I felt that it could've used more time in the oven.
In fact, the whole Thorian angle didn't get put into the open until almost halfway through the book, and the Horusians only got declared as such, and their methods elaborated on, until later still.

Contrasting this with Eisenhorn again, where we saw various philosophies at play even in the first book, all feeling distinct and somewhat at odds with one another, all with their own methods, Resurrection felt relatively light on the matter. While it opens up with a great assembly of the Inquisition, telling us how everybody has his own perspectives, it fails to really show those ideas to the reader. It pays lip service to the concept, but doesn't spend the time to really drive the point home. Said assembly quickly devolves into rampant action due to a Horusian plot, forcing Covenant and co to make an emergency exit. Covenant also adopts his colleague Idris's acolyte Enna Gyrid in the process, as his old friend is lost in the radicals' plot.
This presents another problem to me, because we didn't get to spend much time with Idris and Enna at all, while the novel itself is overshadowed by Covenant's past alongside Idris. Again we learn very little about it all until absolutely necessary, which meant that I really didn't care as much about any of it as I should have.
While yes, I can see how fitting the lack of information would be in the wider shadow war theme within the Inquisition, it made for a bit of a frustrating read.

It didn't help that the initial action-heavy escape from traitor traps gets roughly repeated two more times throughout, one being at the very end. Every time we get close to some answers, some hints, some evidence, some revelations, things are cast in doubt again and force the protagonists to fight and run for their lives. In many ways, the book felt very reactive.
I don't mean to hold up Eisenhorn as the gold standard again, but both Resurrection and Xenos have their respective Inquisitors follow leads to uncover a great conspiracy. Both hunt their prey in their own ways, make alliances on the way, adopt new specialists to their retinues and have old friends and allies. Both end up in tough spots, but for some reason Covenant himself never really felt at risk to me. Gregor Eisenhorn got tortured in Xenos, while Covenant always seemed more or less aloof, in control, when I was hoping for more emotion even if he is a stoic bastard. Likewise, Eisenhorn hounded his quarry and got in its way on multiple occasions, figuring things out along the way. Covenant's findings seemed rather limited and most hints occured out of the blue, at the end of it all. He always felt just three steps behind his target until the climax. As a result, the Horusian antagonist felt even less substantial to me as the reader.

During the final chapters, there was also a big event taking place that, in the end, holds more implications for the setting as a whole than for the novel itself, and I am not entirely sure yet why it was in here to begin with. I assume it will be tied more closely into the resurrectionism theme in Incarnation, but right here, it felt like a jump from A to D rather than a more natural progression of events and character growth. It was one of the things that felt like they happened for some greater reason, rather than that the plot of this particular novel required it to be this way.

What I did like was how French managed to depict the inherent suspicion between colleagues within the Inquisition. Even Enna Gyrid isn't trusted into the inner circle, mind-probed by psyker Mylasa, kept at arm's length. Covenant's alliances with Lord Inquisitor Vult likewise are strained to the limit and riven by doubts. "Trust no one" really is the tagline here, and something that, thematically, Resurrection does better than Eisenhorn, where Gregor seems to have friends all around (outside of the more radical characters like Molitor). Resurrection showcases just how dysfunctional the Inquisition has become as an institution, how at odds with its own goals, how arrogant its members and associates. It presents us with the problems of giving a large group of individual agents nigh-unlimited authority while lacking a central, unifying purpose and code of conduct. In that regard, it is as grimdark as it gets.
I must also praise the use of "silver coins" throughout the book. Their symbolism wasn't lost on me, and gets only more important in hindsight. It is small details like these that add a lot of atmosphere to the book and underline the mystery without getting in the way of it.

But in the end, this is part one of what looks like it is going to be at least a trilogy, hopefully more. Many aspects here serve as setup for plotpoints down the line, and while that may prove to be a great strength as the series progresses, it hamstrings this particular novel as a one-off experience. I seriously enjoy the overall approach to the series that John has taken by spreading it out through various character-focused short stories, a mostly separate audio drama series in Agent of the Throne, and a core novel series. I just felt that the short stories did the nebulous mystery angle a good deal better than Resurrection, where I was hoping for a tighter, more insightful story.
Looking back once the series is over, it might turn out that my assessment isn't really fair anymore, in the broader scheme, but on its own, right now, I feel disappointed and disillusioned.

I sincerely hope that Incarnation proceeds to show us more, rather than handing us cliffnotes on the characters. I want to understand them on a greater level, get into their heads more thoroughly and anticipate plot developments a little better, rather than running up against twist A, B and C with little pretext. I wouldn't mind the sequel dialing back on action sequences either, as fun as they can be. Inquisition stories are most compelling to me when they focus on the investigations, the hunts, the philosophical dilemmas and individual conflicts between characters, be their friends or bitter foes.
Resurrection has a deal of all of this, but in my opinion needed to be tighter, more focused on making the cast feel real and well-rounded. It needed Covenant to stand up for himself more and dominate the pages rather than isolating himself in his office and remaining quiet and aloof. I have faith that John French will be hitting it out of the park with the sequel, now that the basics are mostly established, however. Growing pains, and all that. I'm sure that I will come to appreciate Resurrection more as John expands on his Horusian Wars in the coming years, and pieces fall into place. After all is said and done, it is undeniable that The Horusian Wars are going up against incredibly strong competition in its own niche of Black Library fiction, and doesn't do too badly in comparison either.

The Horusian Wars: Resurrection on Goodreads

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Red Schuhart is a stalker, one of those misfits who are compelled, in spite of the extreme danger, to venture illegally into the Zone to collect the mysterious artefacts that the alien visitors left scattered around. His life is dominated by the place and the thriving black market in the alien products. Even the nature of his mutant daughter has been determined by the Zone and it is for her that he makes his last, tragic foray into the hazardous and hostile territory.

I didn't actually think I'd have the proverbial balls to review a classic like this. You have Peter Fehervari to blame for it, by virtue of being curious about my thoughts. In all honesty though, this was an impressive book that I just felt like talking about.

The Story:

"Red Schuhart is a stalker, one of those misfits who are compelled, in spite of the extreme danger, to venture illegally into the Zone to collect the mysterious artefacts that the alien visitors left scattered around. His life is dominated by the place and the thriving black market in the alien products. Even the nature of his mutant daughter has been determined by the Zone and it is for her that he makes his last, tragic foray into the hazardous and hostile territory."

The Review:

Roadside Picnic is a hugely expressive novel in all its intended ambiguity and rendition of hard lives all around.

I found myself impressed and teased time and again by all its little implications and large questions. In a way, it frames some of the archetypical themes of science fiction and contact novels without ever giving definitive answers one way or another, providing food for thought and chilling considerations over preachy answers and delusions.

One of these points that made me giddy, and is one that I've appreciated for what feels like ages, would be the very human fear of being irrelevant in the grander scheme, and even the smaller scope. Mankind labors under the vain idea that the alien visitors of the Zones may have left their swag deliberately to teach man to reach out and make scientific leaps, as if they're a chosen species by intelligences beyond their comprehension.

I'm sure every single one of us has suffered from that kind of inflated ego one time or another. Often it acts as a shield against one of our greatest fears: That we don't matter one bit, and just happened to fall prey to coincidence. That fear even goes down to the very core of human existence, doesn't it? After all, even our births are matters of chance, as would be the way we turned out until today, despite cultural nurturing of our characters. Change one variable, and the results would be drastically different. It would be only natural to feel uncomfortable thinking about just how arbitrary our own existences really are in the grand scheme of things, and how little we'll likely be able to impart on the world around us.

In that sense, I loved the way the Strugatsky brothers had Dr. Pillman discuss the nature of the alien visit and the Zones with Richard Noonan, up in chapter three of the book. It formulated many an idea that gives the reader chills and, to a fan of Cosmic Horror like myself, felt just oh so right. Because that is what many elements of the Roadside Picnic come down to in my eyes: Cosmic Horror. Now, this isn't the Lovecraftian sort of that, not at all, but it plays on many of the same underlying themes and fears, exposes people to unknowable artifacts, mind-boggling phenomena and existential crises.

Like the best of Cosmic Horror, the Picnic also avoids clear answers, or showing too much. It delivers experiences of people involved, shows us the world through their inherently biased perspectives, tells us of the horrors but rarely straight up presents them to us in clear terms. Whether it be "bug traps", "hell slime" or "grinders", descriptions are kept to a minimum while showing direct effects without great explanations.

Early in chapter one, main protagonist Redrick Schuhart even remarks on man's need to label things, to be incapable of living peacefully and satisfied with things that may defy explanation.

"His face has completely calm; you can see he's figured everything out. They are all like that, the eggheads. The most important thing for them is to come up with a name. Until he comes up with one, you feel really sorry for him, he looks so lost. But when he finds a label like "graviconcentrate", he thinks he's figured it all out an perks right up."

This, in a way, connects right back to Redrick's own existential crisis at the end of the book, when he himself is struggling for words even just to express and encompass his own deepest desires, or even just formulate what they are to begin with. He is just as uneasy with not having a clear idea of his own heart as his friend Kirill was when it came to the bug traps. For all his lamentations in the end, for all his questioning of what humanity he has left, there are many aspects that the Zone has not taken from him after all.

And just now, I can't help but think of Samuel Johnson's famous line "He who makes a beast of himself gets rid of the pain of being a man.". It feels strangely apt, as many of Schuhart's actions set him apart from common society and closer to the Zone, to the point of neglecting his family while struggling to find his own place. By becoming a Stalker, and a damn good one, Schuhart turns more into a creature of instinct and an overwhelming sense for survival.

Seeing him questioning his humanity and lamenting his loss of words and struggles to even think (which is further put into context by memory of his friend Kirill saying that "Man is born to think") felt like a fundamental point of the novel to me. Throughout the book, we see Red Schuhart turn more and more from somewhat of a thrillseeker who still cares about authority and friendship to a degree, to a person who gets entirely disillusioned with dreams of grandeur, hopes for the future, friendship and in turn throws all pretense of morality overboard before the end. Despite this, he never really became a bad person, simply a lost and confused one whose tragedy is formulated by his life around the Zone, from relying on it for a semblance of financial stability, being jailed, fathering a mutated daughter, losing sight of his own autonomy.

That all this is presented in a relatively straight-forward way, almost entirely told through Red's perspective, with only one out of four chapters being focused on his friend Richard Noonan, which also returns back to the topic of Schuhart soon enough, is a marvel to me. The Strugatsky brothers managed to characterize the world and living conditions around the Harmont Zone in such a strong way without ever picking up a top-down perspective. Instead everything is filtered through dialogue, monologues and the central characters' experiences. They show us the crudity of society around the visitation zones, the changes wrought over the years both to the town and the Stalkers, without giving the reader a bird's eye view. The Picnic honestly has no need for it, because all the little details and deliberations described are on point and powerful enough to paint the entire relevant picture for the reader.

In the end, I am both surprised and happy about how little the novel actually was about the alien visit, the artifacts scavenged by the Stalkers, the black market for alien technology, the mutants or walking dead. Instead, it was a book that put the focus squarely on human nature, personal tragedies and life on a knife's edge in an unforgiving world, right down to how neighbors would treat a destitute housewife. It highlights a society that shares a key obsession at the cost of human compassion and, while superficially striving for understanding of outside factors, forgets to pay attention to what is closer at heart.

The theme of alien leftovers found on earth and the resulting societal focus on the findings has been picked up a lot since Roadside Picnic, of course. It is an obviously popular topic, one that holds an immediate appeal in how transformative an event it can be for human existence, opening up myriad possibilities for writers in any medium imaginable. I could point towards half a dozen instances of similar ideas across my shelves right now. The way the brothers Strugatsky rendered the visit, the Zone, the human element, however, stands apart by how it does not reach for the heavens, but grounds the reader in the relative mundanity of life in its periphery, and how relatable their characters' struggles are even today, over 40 years since Roadside Picnic first saw the light of day.

Roadside Picnic is a brilliant work of science fiction. It hit many themes that could be seen as fundamental subjects for the genre. Highlighting the innate fears of human existence, it will remain relevant for ages to come, even well past our own first visitation, should it ever occur. I am glad I set aside the time to finally read it, despite a busy schedule.

Roadside Picnic on Goodreads

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Long before he brought Chaos and war to the Imperium, the primarch Lorgar was raised on the world of Colchis, used as a weapon by the zealot Kor Phaeron in his bid to control the whole world. But Lorgar's destiny was far greater…

On the world of Colchis, mighty religions rule a decaying society in the name of absent gods – until the arrival of Lorgar. Primarch, prophet, leader of destiny, the Golden One is raised by Kor Phaeron, priest of the Covenant, to be his weapon in a quest for power. As religious war spreads across the planet, spearheaded by the Brotherhood of Lorgar, the primarch is plagued by visions of the future and the coming of the Emperor. To find his place in this new order, he must reach balance between the teachings of his adopted father Kor Phaeron, and the fate that he knows awaits him among the stars.

After a bit of a hiatus, I'm hopefully back in action for the foreseeable future. There are a bunch of reviews half-written on my desk, truth be told, but I figured you may be interested in the next Primarchs novel. It was recently released to the wider public who don't want to shell out a premium for limited editions, and as per usual, that means I got to read it now as well. It really is quite something!

The Story:

"Long before he brought Chaos and war to the Imperium, the primarch Lorgar was raised on the world of Colchis, used as a weapon by the zealot Kor Phaeron in his bid to control the whole world. But Lorgar's destiny was far greater…

On the world of Colchis, mighty religions rule a decaying society in the name of absent gods – until the arrival of Lorgar. Primarch, prophet, leader of destiny, the Golden One is raised by Kor Phaeron, priest of the Covenant, to be his weapon in a quest for power. As religious war spreads across the planet, spearheaded by the Brotherhood of Lorgar, the primarch is plagued by visions of the future and the coming of the Emperor. To find his place in this new order, he must reach balance between the teachings of his adopted father Kor Phaeron, and the fate that he knows awaits him among the stars."

The Review:

Lorgar: Bearer of the Word is a highly unconventional Horus Heresy/Primarchs novel. It features few boltshells fired at all and is relatively light on "present-day" Great Crusade/Horus Heresy content. Instead of showcasing the Word Bearers Legion's conquests, it showcases them only brielfy in interlude sections.
The bulk of the book? Lorgar's childhood and upbringing on Colchis. Almost the entirety of the novel is told not through the Primarch's eyes, but his "father" Kor Phaeron, probably the main architect of the entire Heresy. Besides Lorgar, the second viewpoint comes in the form of Nairo, one of Kor Phaeron's slaves at the time of Lorgar's arrival, whose views are juxtaposed against those of the ever-ambitious and corrupt archpriest of "the Powers" of Chaos.

Indeed, Lorgar: Bearer of the Word is taking the reader back to a time when the Primarchs were figures of myth and incredible awe, rather than the glorified action heroes of the later Horus Heresy series (looking at you, The Unremembered Empire...). While the big focus of the novel, as he well should be, Lorgar is kept reasonably ambiguous in certain respects, while the interpretations of his character through Kor Phaeron and Nairo tell us a lot more about themselves.

Kor Phaeron, true to form, is a bastard of the highest order. This novel does little to really humanize him. He's corrupted by the Powers-that-be from the moment we first meet him here, preaching while raising himself up above others - despite being exiled from the Holy City of Vharadesh. He is abusive, quick to anger, arrogant, an egomaniac for all his worship and sermonizing on the glories of the Pantheon. If you think you've felt disgusted by this man before, you might find that you have underestimated his spite greatly.

Growing up as the acolyte of Kor Phaeron, Lorgar actually did pretty well for himself. Despite brutal punishments even just for daring to raise questions, it seems strange that the Urizen would stay with his father-figure for so long, to the point of defending him and saving his life, obedient to a fault and despite the urgings of Nairo. The final section of the book manage to leave the reader with a new perspective on this, however - and I felt a little chilled thinking about the nature of the Aurelian's own ambition and calculations. If you've ever wondered why Lorgar may be inclined to throw his First Captain into the meat grinder of Calth and expecting him to lay down his life there, this story may give you plenty of reasons for it.

On the other hand, Nairo is a more tragic figure. Being an older slave, he is lucky to still be alive in his lord's service (or not, depending on how you look at it). He has dreams of his own, a different moral compass to all other highlighted characters and could be described as the angel in Lorgar's ear, opposed to Kor Phaeron's status as the devil. He wishes for equality and the abolishment of slavery, urges caution against his master's ambition and develops a deep friendship with the new messiah. His relationship with Lorgar highlights the best of the Primarch and gives us a look at what he might have become, had he not been stuck with the Dark Heart as his adoptive father...
The polarity between the two point of view characters does a solid job showcasing the various aspects that the young Primarch might represent for the preacher, the slave, and Colchis as a whole. Threat? Opportunity? Freedom? Conquest? Religious Truths? Maybe even a son?

Despite this being a Black Library novel, action is for the most part glossed over unless necessary to further Lorgar's (or Nairo & Kor Phaeron's) development. Late in the book, cities fall one after the other with no more than a name drop, for example, whereas the first and final compliances are showcased with a little more detail to characterize Lorgar's twin approaches: The Word, or the Mace. I applaud Gav for not making this a Primarch action flick - it is with in-depth characterizations that this Primarchs series scores, not "Bolterporn". The strongest parts of all previous books were when the Primarchs were left to talk and interact with their environments, or butt heads in the case of Russ, and the weakest when the Emperor's sons were reduced to the gods of war that they are. We've seen plenty of the latter throughout the galactic civil war already, and Primarchs should instead focus on giving the reader a greater understanding of its protagonists instead.

Lorgar: Bearer of the Word does that swimmingly. While hardly a bad word can be said about Aaron Dembski-Bowden's foundation for the Urizen via The First Heretic, Betrayer and connective tissue stories throughout, it only briefly looked at where the Aurelian came from, his very humble beginnings in the deserts of Colchis, beaten by his master and all too impressionable. Where Dembski-Bowden's Heresy work gives us a Lorgar that falls from the Emperor's Grace, and vice versa, turning from naive worship and making him a force to be reckoned with and the architect behind the Heresy itself, this prequel hands us the idealistic Lorgar, the ecclesiarch, the one to turn Colchis from the Powers to the Emperor's light, making the eventual reversal all the more tragic.

Stylistically, Gav Thorpe is also playing to his strengths. His origins in writing lore material are evident in a lot of his work, down to his narrative approach. With Lorgar being delivered in a more historically-inspired fashion and married to mythological, spiritual metaphor and accounts by what may be described as the messiah-Primarch's apostles, with a strong focus on dialogue over frantic action, the novel benefits greatly from his fairly unique style.
Thorpe even goes so far as to reinvent Colchis's whole calendar system, turning the world's days into trials in their own right, further reinforcing the hold religious tradition may have on a civilization that experiences as much as seven whole days during one full rotation of their world. While the impacts of the "Translator's Note on Time" included at the start of the novel are rarely make a massive impact on the unfolding story, they do explain much and give everything an interesting vibe. Colchisian culture is just as much a factor in Lorgar's relative childhood as his master and confidant are.

One thing that did disappoint me about the novel was the relatively abrupt end to it. Don't get me wrong, I liked the end, and it ended on an important event for Lorgar. However, I would have really liked to see a little epilogue about the Emperor and Magnus coming to meet Lorgar on Colchis, as it felt like the natural end point to Lorgar's ongoing visions about "The One". That this didn't happen confused me, as it'd have held great opportunity for Thorpe to pitch Lorgar's faith against the insidious nature of Kor Phaeron one final time and giving the reader an understanding of the Emperor's opinions on the zealotry rampant on his son's homeworld.

Another small nitpick would be that Erebus got only token mentions throughout the interlude chapters, but I guess including him in greater capacity would have diluted the exploration of Lorgar's relationship with Kor Phaeron, which I'd consider the highlight of the book.

One final note on the Dark Heart before I wrap this up, though. I saw some comments about Kor Phaeron still being depicted as a meanspirited, vile being with little redeeming qualities and that making it hard to empathize with the character. While I can see the hiccup for some people, I feel that this is exactly as it should be. Kor Phaeron was ruined by the Powers long before Lorgar appeared on Colchis. His exile made him even more bitter and wrathful, the effects of which we see here. We don't need to turn villains into victims of circumstance every time. Kor Phaeron is an utterly ambitious, zealous, calculating madman whose ambition, zealotry and madness needed a little more depth, as did his relation to Lorgar. He needed to be a fleshed-out villain, not a misunderstood tragic anti-hero. He'll never be that, and for that I am thankful. In my eyes, Lorgar: Bearer of the Word did a great job turning Kor Phaeron from an oftentimes shallow, mustache-twirling Bond-villain into a believable antagonist full of spite but also with his own insecurities and doubts, his own burdens and faults. He has become relatable, if not exactly somebody to empathize or even sympathize with.

Be that as it may, I quite enjoyed this book. I'd say it ties with Perturabo: The Hammer of Olympia for my favorite in the series so far. It lends credence to Kor Phaeron, makes subtle comments on Lorgar Aurelian, shows the immediate effects of Monarchia in its brief interludes and connects a lot of dots in a creative and engaging way. The new perspective on well-established characters has also made me enthusiastic about the Word Bearers again and I am sorely tempted to re-read The First Heretic sometime soon.
Lorgar: Bearer of the Word manages to uphold the high standard of the Primarchs series with little trouble and is essential reading for any fan of the Word Bearers or devoted acolyte of the Pantheon, if you ask me.

Lorgar: Bearer of the Word on Goodreads

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Shiban Khan has returned to Terra. As the Warmaster draws ever closer, his body is remade and his mechanical shackles cast aside, but there are other, deeper wounds that must still be confronted before he can face battle again.

This may be a mere short story, but I figured it was worth talking about, considering how much it impressed me. The next novel review should be coming soon, once I figure out some things. In the meantime, some gushing about Chris Wraight's White Scars!

The Story:

"Shiban Khan has returned to Terra. As the Warmaster draws ever closer, his body is remade and his mechanical shackles cast aside, but there are other, deeper wounds that must still be confronted before he can face battle again."

The Review:

Restorer is a beautiful story. It perfectly highlights just what power the short story format can have, if used intelligently, as an aside to an ongoing saga. It is not a mandatory read to understand the rest of the Horus Heresy by any means, but just enough of a bonus, an epilogue chapter to a character arc from two previous novels, a novella and some shorts, that it is utterly satisfying and moving for the reader.

If you haven't read Chris Wraight's White Scars novels for the Horus Heresy, Scars and The Path of Heaven, you are doing something wrong to begin with. If you have read them, as well as the Brotherhood of the Storm novella (printed in Legacies of Betrayal), you simply owe it to yourself to read Restorer as well.

It really puts the bow on one of the most striking plotlines from Wraight's Scars stories: The friendship/rivalry between Shiban Khan and Torghun Khan. Where Brotherhood of the Storm established their divergent philosophies of war and showcased Torghun's struggles to accept his place within the Ordu of Jaghatai, and Scars delved even deeper into their origins and paths, with The Path of Heaven handing us the results of their rivalry, which presented the V Legion's own schism in microcosm, Restorer puts past errors, grievances and stubborness at rest in a very introspective way.
An important way, too, if you ask me.

Where many short stories in the Horus Heresy series turn into slices of action across the galaxy, this one brings us to the heart of Terra and gives us insights into the state of the Throneworld in the final months before the Siege. It even gives us a glimpse of the traitor forces' arrival, which may be a first. It does so in a very personal way that speaks volumes about the strength of Wraight's characterization skills. Shiban Khan, for all his faults, invites us to prepare for the impending assault of Horus Lupercal's forces - both physically and mentally.

I honestly believe that Chris got something special here. Even if this turns out to be the final piece in his White Scars saga for the Heresy, it'd be an epitaph worth remembering as one of the most poignant pieces of short fiction across the entire series. It is the final piece that I could only have hoped for after the grim events from The Path of Heaven and puts to rest one of the very few points that book disappointed me with back when I read it.

As far as the depictions of Terra itself go, I can't criticise a thing. There is a clear contrast here to Wraight's recent Inquisition novel The Carrion Throne, with both versions of Old Earth across the Millennia feeling distinct and right, giving just enough of an impression of the world to satisfy curiosity and letting imagination extrapolate the rest. The inhabitants we come across feel troubled and authentic in the situations they are presented in. This is a world just waiting on the edge of its proverbial seat, expecting the arrival of the apocalypse any day now. The dire situation was handled perfectly, in my eyes.

With all that in mind, I cannot recommend Restorer highly enough. It stands as one of the series' finest pieces of short fiction - and with as many dozens of those out there, that's got to count for something.

Restorer on Goodreads

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While crusading to build the Imperium, Perturabo, mercurial primarch of the Iron Warriors, hears ot turmoil on the world where he was raised, and abandons the crusade to return home and save his people.

Born to a life of political conflict, Perturabo was always considered a child prodigy among the people of Olympia – indeed, his philosophical and scientific works were beyond compare. But then, after his rediscovery by the Emperor and decades of thankless military campaigning on the Great Crusade, the primarch begins to resent his Legion’s place in the Imperium. When word reaches him of turmoil on his adoptive home world, he orders the Iron Warriors to abandon their campaign against the alien hrud and crush this emerging rebellion by any means necessary...

Here we go with Primarchs #4, Perturabo. It took me a week to really collect my thoughts after finishing this novel. That I'm still gushing should tell you it's good, right?

The Story:

"While crusading to build the Imperium, Perturabo, mercurial primarch of the Iron Warriors, hears ot turmoil on the world where he was raised, and abandons the crusade to return home and save his people.

Born to a life of political conflict, Perturabo was always considered a child prodigy among the people of Olympia – indeed, his philosophical and scientific works were beyond compare. But then, after his rediscovery by the Emperor and decades of thankless military campaigning on the Great Crusade, the primarch begins to resent his Legion’s place in the Imperium. When word reaches him of turmoil on his adoptive home world, he orders the Iron Warriors to abandon their campaign against the alien hrud and crush this emerging rebellion by any means necessary..."

The Review:

Perturabo: The Hammer of Olympia is the best Primarchs novel to date (or at least up to Lorgar, which recently dropped in a limited edition. I won't be reading that for a while). I feel like I'm repeating that with every book in the series, but here I can say without a doubt that Guy Haley moved me more than any of the previous authors managed to. Not just because it is a stellar, character-building novel about one of the most underappreciated Primarchs of the Heresy, but also because it struck home on a very personal level.

The novel is split into two plotlines which obviously relate to one another but still divided by almost two centuries. Both focus for the most part on Perturabo and draw different pictures of the Lord of Iron, without making the character's incarnations indistinguishable from one another.

The major plotline plays out just before the outbreak of the Horus Heresy, mere years before the disastrous betrayal at Isstvan. Perturabo and his Legion are throwing themselves into the meat grinder at the tail end of the Great Crusade, attempting to contain and exterminate a Hrud migration. I cannot remember if we ever actually saw Hrud in action in a Black Library novel - I kinda doubt it. This alien race existed for a long time, of course, and was even covered in the ancient lore tome Xenology, but the most we got was a throwaway reference here and there. The most recent examples I can think of are in fact the Horus Heresy stories featuring Barabas Dantioch, Warsmith of the Iron Warriors. Dantioch, to my delight, is a key figure in this novel, leading right up to The Iron Within by Rob Sanders from the Age of Darkness anthology.

The Hrud are a menace upon the galaxy. They don't function in the typical way beings of flesh and blood might - they distort time, travel through it and their weapons and mere presence produce warped fields that can turn humans to dust within moments, or age them for thousands of years. Fighting them proves not only a logistical nightmare, but utterly devastating in morale. This is the campaign that really broke the Iron Warriors, after decades of chafing at being handed dirty, thankless jobs.
We've heard about Perturabo's belief that the Emperor and the Imperium at large neglected him and his Legion, didn't appreciate them and used them poorly, but we never really saw why they might think that. It is one thing to be told they got bad tasks set for them, and another to truly experience how bad it could get. The Hammer of Olympia is that story that the setting, the Legion and the Primarch desperately needed. This is a vital tale to fully appreciate just what would motivate the Lord of Iron, previously shown as so enthusiastic in Graham McNeill's Magnus the Red: Master of Prospero, to break his oaths and side with Horus Lupercal. It does so marvelously.

Haley's writing of the Hrud and the way they defiend time and space reminded me of another novel of his, namely Champion of Mars; I don't want to ruin the twist of that particular scifi adventure for you (though I will say that you should go out and read it, the Kindle edition on Amazon should go for about 3 bucks only and it was very well worth more than that), but there are certain parallels to be drawn. Haley is no stranger to timey-whimey topics and I felt that the whole theme was handled very competently.

Through Dantioch, we see the meat grinder itself, the Legion's doubts and misgivings, and the price Perturabo's sons had to pay for going against their lord's own arrogance and martyr complex. I honestly love that Haley got a chance to show this fallout, after the excellent job he did with the Warsmith in Pharos. Barabas Dantioch, ever since The Iron Within, has been one of my favorite characters in the franchise. The past two years have seen him a hero with a big legacy, so it felt satisfying to follow a younger Dantioch for a change.

On the other side, we get to see Perturabo's early days. We see him arrive at his foster father's court on Olympia, grow up with, if not really under, the Tyrant of Lochos. We see him achieve great marvels and defy culture and religion. We see him reshape his adopted home world, while growing stronger in mind and body. However, we also see him shaped by the court intrigue, the paranoia of Olympia's tyrants, the assassination attempts, the heathen beliefs of priests and demagogues. We see him butt heads with his father Dammekos, bond with his sister Calliphone, and grow ever more petulant, cynical, bitter and untrusting.

Perturabo grows up feeling appreciated only for his many talents, yet not really seen for what he truly is. He feels used and abused, despite all the status and fame thrown at him. He comes to despise many aspects of his home world, subjugating it while lacking the passion to really lead it himself. He thinks others fools, and even his sister, the one person he seems to bond with, cannot be fully trusted. He keeps looking for the stars and awaits the Emperor's arrival, neglecting his subjects in turn.

Things obviously go south before long, and if you've followed the Heresy for a while, you'll probably know how things end for Olympia. I found the final chapters dealing with the Primarch's return home to be hard-hitting, uncompromising and utterly suitable to express the Legion's fall from grace while also showing them as conflicted, complex creatures with broken spirits. The Lord of Iron let his heart grow hard and weary, and it shows on his Legion and their relationship with him.

There is an exchange towards the end, between Perturabo himself and his sister, which really hit a nerve and made me reflect on the Primarch and even myself:

"Always you do things the most difficult way, and in the most painful manner. You cultivate a martyr’s complex, lurching from man to man, holding out your bleeding wrists so they might see how you hurt yourself. You brood in the shadows when all you want to do is scream, 'Look at me!' You are too arrogant to win people over through effort. You expect people to notice you there in the half-darkness, and point and shout out, 'There! There is the great Perturabo! See how he labours without complaint!'"

The entire chapter and Perturabo's conversation with Calliphone are, in my eyes, the definitive exploration of Perturabo. Everything Haley built up throughout the novel, everything we've seen in the past, is boiled down and addressed in their argument in one shape or another. I cannot possibly express just how incredibly satisfying Guy managed to sketch the Lord of Iron in that chapter alone. Even without everything else in this book, that single chapter highlights the qualities and faults of the titular character better than anything else printed about him to date. It instills an understanding of the character that goes beyond what McNeill managed in Angel Exterminatus and turns Perturabo into simultaneously one of the most tragic figures of the franchise, but also one of the most damned and twisted. Haley understood Perturabo on a fundamental level that I can only applaud.

To be frank, this is one of the few books that made me feel utterly fulfilled. It ticked all the boxes I was hoping it would. There was brutal, uncompromising action, disastrous arrogance, tragedy in motion and a sense of fully fleshed out complexity about the titular character that every single novel in this Primarchs series should be striving for. The Hammer of Olympia reaffirmed once more just how spectacular an author Guy Haley is, in my opinion. He understood the Lord of Iron and all his disparate depictions and was fully able to knit them together in a wholly compelling rendition. Perturabo: The Hammer of Olympia stands tall next to the best the Horus Heresy series has to offer.

Perturabo: The Hammer of Olympia on Goodreads

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Remnants of the high nobility, manipulated by the third power of Phezzan, abduct the seven-year-old Emperor and, with the cooperation of the Free Planets Alliance, declare the establishment of a traditional Imperial government. Reinhard, however, has turned the tables by making a secret pact with Phezzan high officials, and plans a grand invasion of the Alliance by way of the Phezzan Corridor. So begins an epic battle to the death between Yang, who despite surmising Reinhard s true intentions must defend Iserlohn, and the Imperial Army's peerless fighter, von Reuentahl.

Getting my hands on this hasn't been an easy task. I preordered the paperback back in November 2016, yet still didn't get my copy until almost 3 weeks after its June 21st release. Likewise, there was no shortcut through an audiobook edition like with the previous three (please, go pick up Tim Gerard Reynolds' narrations!), so I was forced to wait it out.
Once I got it, I was through in a little over a week, despite many appointments and stressful nonsense going on. So let's see about this review, eh?

The Story:

"Remnants of the high nobility, manipulated by the third power of Phezzan, abduct the seven-year-old Emperor and, with the cooperation of the Free Planets Alliance, declare the establishment of a traditional Imperial government. Reinhard, however, has turned the tables by making a secret pact with Phezzan high officials, and plans a grand invasion of the Alliance by way of the Phezzan Corridor. So begins an epic battle to the death between Yang, who despite surmising Reinhard s true intentions must defend Iserlohn, and the Imperial Army's peerless fighter, von Reuentahl."

The Review:

Legend of the Galactic Heroes: Stratagem is the fourth of ten volumes in the classic japanese space opera series. Originally released during the 80s, it has only recently made its way to an english release. I could go on and on lamenting the sluggishness of US/UK publishers in picking up this well-loved classic, but I believe I've done that already. Right now I am actually happy that we'll be seeing the midway point later this year, and volume six by April 2018. Stratagem, being the most recent installment I got to read, has done nothing to blunt my enthusiasm for this series. If anything, I am more eager for volume five to find its way into my hands.
This being a good way into the series, expect spoilers for the first three books. I reviewed the previous volumes already, so if you're new to it, best to start there.

Unlike previous books, especially volume three, Stratagem focuses little on the Free Planets Alliance, and with it Admiral Yang Wen-li and his crew. Instead it turns the reader's eyes towards the Galactic Empire's capital of Odin, its semi-dictatorial ruler Reinhard von Lohengramm, and his dealings with the merchant-dominion of Phezzan. While I was initially a little disappointed with not getting to see as much of Miracle Yang and co, his role is a passive one in general. Unlike last time when he had to go up against a court of inquiry and rush back to Iserlohn Fortress in a last-minute defense against the empire, here he is stuck at the base, waiting for Reinhard to make his grand moves. He has little chance to take the initiative, which is in great parts down to the inertia of the Free Planets Alliance's bureaucracy and incompetent leadership.
So in my eyes it makes perfect sense to point the camera to where the history of the galaxy is being written: In the Lohengramm camp.

However, that is not to say that Yang and co have no relevance here. If anything, things are being set in motion to break the status quo at Iserlohn, in a multitude of ways, and put Yang on a path that has been hinted at for quite some time. For one, Julian Mintz, Yang's ward, is promoted and sent to Phezzan as a military attaché, on command of the bigwigs on the FPA's capital of Heinessen. Julian benefits from a good chunk of development throughout this novel, with more promised in the next installment, while Yang's own position is destabilized somewhat. Thankfully it is not all doom and gloom, and Yang, Julian and co offer some of the most amusing scenes in the series yet.

But let's turn towards Reinhard here. Last we saw, he had put down the nobility's rebellion, placed himself in the position of de-facto ruler of the Galactic Empire, while maintaining a seven year old child as the official emperor. Unable to deal with a child the same way he might with a full-grown despot, he is forced to wait for a chance to fully bury the old Goldenbaum Dynasty that has reigned for nearly 500 years. When Phezzan reaches out with an elaborate plan to abduct the child-emperor, Reinhard makes his move by allowing it to proceed and in doing so offer him a casus belli against the FPA and gain undeniable advantages in the coming war.

Almost the entire book deals with this situation, from inception to the military push spearheaded by Reinhard's fleet commanders Wolfgang Mittermeier and Oskar von Reuentahl. Both of these have been interesting to watch over the last few books, friends as they are, but here their paths might begin to diverge a little. Von Reuentahl receives the bulk of development, exploring his own ambitions and role at Reinhard's court. He goes up against big odds here, trying to prove his worth not only to the imperial marshall, but also himself. Tanaka is building up towards an eventful escalation over the coming book or two.

Meanwhile, Phezzan's meddling in the two big civilizations' respective political systems and businesses leads to quite a lot of tension. I loved seeing how arrogant and selfish the Phezzanese are depicted here. They are self-serving to a fault. This time they may or may not have miscalculated in their schemes, but then, we know from previous volumes that their real goals are far less obvious than people think.
Through Julian and some later chapters we actually get a good look at Phezzan's way of life, which I found to be an interesting contrast to the other two major powers. It also made it appear that, for all their mercantile talents, the Phezzanese might be living in a bubble of their own making.

Another thing that got satisfying developments was the relationship between Reinhard von Lohengramm and his chief secretary, Hildegard von Mariendorf. I really am quite fond of her, as she is presented as a character with a strong moral code yet also utterly loyal to her lord. Her role diminishes somewhat in the later chapters, but early on she scores a lot of points in my book. Her interactions with von Lohengramm are in a way reminiscent of those between the Golden Brat and his lost friend Siegfried Kircheis, who of course isn't forgotten either.

The big war efforts, however, are mostly confined to the later parts of the book, and most likely the next part. The book focuses instead on the build-up, the plan, the schemes that lead there and the way they may turn against their makers. This is the book where the breaking of the status quo between the Galactic Empire and the Free Planets Alliance truly begins, but also that for Reinhard and Yang respectively. Things are inevitably going to change, and Tanaka made an impressive show of how that could be achieved.
While the book errs on the shorter end of the spectrum, clocking in at just over 200 pages, it was full of character development and even explorations of the historical background of the Galactic Empire and its former rulers. Some of these excursions into history were actually pretty shocking and gruesome, giving another reason to the reader as to why Reinhard might be justified in burning the Goldenbaum Dynasty to the ground. But while the end may be laudable, it is questionable whether the ends justify the means.

But then, this series has been building up towards a variety of role reversals for a while. Stratagem continues hinting towards these, just how previous novels have made the empire under Reinhard appear fair and heading into a more liberal direction, whereas the FPA keeps regressing towards political tyranny. This, in my eyes, is one of the coolest, most satisfying aspects about this entire series; the perversion of ideals, the realization that to do good in the long run you might have to do bad in the short term, the reader's deliberations on who is on the right side of history, it all adds up to a hugely engaging, pseudo-historical narrative the likes of which you don't see often.

Considering how strongly Stratagem continues the series' trend of excellent character building and leads right up to what should be the mid-series climax, my love for Legend of the Galactic Heroes just got reaffirmed. The pendulum of human history keeps swinging and I wonder what repercussions the counter-swing will have in the future.

Legend of the Galactic Heroes, Vol.4: Stratagem on Goodreads

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