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tykewriter's review
5.0
There was a bit of a problem, I found, reading M Ed McNally's Death of a Kingdom – I was sucked into the story so fast that I utterly neglected to make any review notes. So, bear with me as I assemble my thoughts without the assistance of any scribbled aides memoir, but if nothing else it indicates the strength of McNally's writing and his story-telling that it pulled me in so rapidly.
The novel is the second part of McNally's Norothian Cycle series. Think epic fantasy of the Tolkien vein with its echoes of Homeric Heroism, or – rather more aptly – the medieval realism of Tad Williams Memory, Sorrow, Thorn series, but advance it a couple of centuries until it's on the verge of its own ascent into modernity. This is a 'magic and muskets' fantasy, as the author calls it, where traditional weaponry, and the military plumage and tactics that go with them, still hold sway – but are inevitably giving way to these more destructive technologies.
It is fascinating to see such things in a fantasy setting, not just for their impact on the story unfolding, but for what they say of the world, and the societies, McNally has created. Here is a world undergoing profound change and typically it is bloody messy. As the title implies, there's a kingdom tottering on the edge of extinction. Upstart and established powers alike are falling, dynasties are crumbling, exhausted by the demands of ambitions and war; political alliances are shifting, balances of power tipping, as all the old certainties drain into the soil along with the spilled blood of vanquished armies.
This wouldn't be epic fantasy, however, without a far darker threat looming. There is evil gathering its strength, beyond the boundaries of humanity's squabbling insularity, and the shadow of a far greater calamity to come looms over the horizon like a gathering storm. And humanity is largely unaware as it focuses on its age-old squabbling – even those who have some tastes of the dark portents.
Tilda Lanai, now an ex-Guilder from the islands of Miilark, and her friends have survived their encounter with the demonic forces occupying the cursed city of Vod'Adia (the Sable City of the first book) and are now trying to put the experience behind them. Yet the shadow of the place lurks over their efforts to build new lives, and they must also contend with the all-too-human outfall of war and calamity between the Kingdoms of Daul and Ayzantium.
It isn't long before Tilda, the mercenary Zebulon Baj Niff (who is rather endearingly taken with Tilda) and the wizard Phinneous Phoarty, find themselves caught up in the desperate efforts of the Duchess Claudja to save her homeland of Chengdea from the advancing Ayzant forces. Abandoned by the crumbling Daulic Kingdom of which it is nominally a part, Claudja and her father the Duke have hatched a desperate plan – to join and thereby gain the protection of the powerful Empire of the Code. Tilda and party find themselves hired to get the young duchess safely to the Codian capital and back again; a dangerous journey that proves a bonding adventure.
Saying much more risks giving too much away. Suffice to say, the pretensions of powers great and small are about to be cast aside. Likewise, individuals great and small are to become the plaything of intrigues and forces beyond their understanding or expectations, and everything is about to change. Beneath the bubbling uncertainties of profound change, McNally's all-too-human characters battle with their own challenges great and small, finding their own more human-scale certainties – loyalty, friendship – to cling too as they are buffeted by events beyond their immediate control.
McNally's characters are well-drawn, well-rounded human beings, complete with their own quirks and idiosyncrasies whether these are endearing or contemptible. The non-human characters are equally well drawn, again – for want of a better way of putting it – thoroughly human rather than being functional and mechanical placements. As for the world he has created, it is presented in a believable fashion, nicely detailed and with enough appropriate historical points to suspend the reader's realisation that this is an invented landscape, without it ever becoming intrusive.
This is a worthy successor to The Sable City and ensures you end the book waiting eagerly for the follow-up in the series. There is much more to come and McNally has set a high standard to match or exceed – both for himself and other authors.
Mark Cantrell,
Author of Citizen Zero
The novel is the second part of McNally's Norothian Cycle series. Think epic fantasy of the Tolkien vein with its echoes of Homeric Heroism, or – rather more aptly – the medieval realism of Tad Williams Memory, Sorrow, Thorn series, but advance it a couple of centuries until it's on the verge of its own ascent into modernity. This is a 'magic and muskets' fantasy, as the author calls it, where traditional weaponry, and the military plumage and tactics that go with them, still hold sway – but are inevitably giving way to these more destructive technologies.
It is fascinating to see such things in a fantasy setting, not just for their impact on the story unfolding, but for what they say of the world, and the societies, McNally has created. Here is a world undergoing profound change and typically it is bloody messy. As the title implies, there's a kingdom tottering on the edge of extinction. Upstart and established powers alike are falling, dynasties are crumbling, exhausted by the demands of ambitions and war; political alliances are shifting, balances of power tipping, as all the old certainties drain into the soil along with the spilled blood of vanquished armies.
This wouldn't be epic fantasy, however, without a far darker threat looming. There is evil gathering its strength, beyond the boundaries of humanity's squabbling insularity, and the shadow of a far greater calamity to come looms over the horizon like a gathering storm. And humanity is largely unaware as it focuses on its age-old squabbling – even those who have some tastes of the dark portents.
Tilda Lanai, now an ex-Guilder from the islands of Miilark, and her friends have survived their encounter with the demonic forces occupying the cursed city of Vod'Adia (the Sable City of the first book) and are now trying to put the experience behind them. Yet the shadow of the place lurks over their efforts to build new lives, and they must also contend with the all-too-human outfall of war and calamity between the Kingdoms of Daul and Ayzantium.
It isn't long before Tilda, the mercenary Zebulon Baj Niff (who is rather endearingly taken with Tilda) and the wizard Phinneous Phoarty, find themselves caught up in the desperate efforts of the Duchess Claudja to save her homeland of Chengdea from the advancing Ayzant forces. Abandoned by the crumbling Daulic Kingdom of which it is nominally a part, Claudja and her father the Duke have hatched a desperate plan – to join and thereby gain the protection of the powerful Empire of the Code. Tilda and party find themselves hired to get the young duchess safely to the Codian capital and back again; a dangerous journey that proves a bonding adventure.
Saying much more risks giving too much away. Suffice to say, the pretensions of powers great and small are about to be cast aside. Likewise, individuals great and small are to become the plaything of intrigues and forces beyond their understanding or expectations, and everything is about to change. Beneath the bubbling uncertainties of profound change, McNally's all-too-human characters battle with their own challenges great and small, finding their own more human-scale certainties – loyalty, friendship – to cling too as they are buffeted by events beyond their immediate control.
McNally's characters are well-drawn, well-rounded human beings, complete with their own quirks and idiosyncrasies whether these are endearing or contemptible. The non-human characters are equally well drawn, again – for want of a better way of putting it – thoroughly human rather than being functional and mechanical placements. As for the world he has created, it is presented in a believable fashion, nicely detailed and with enough appropriate historical points to suspend the reader's realisation that this is an invented landscape, without it ever becoming intrusive.
This is a worthy successor to The Sable City and ensures you end the book waiting eagerly for the follow-up in the series. There is much more to come and McNally has set a high standard to match or exceed – both for himself and other authors.
Mark Cantrell,
Author of Citizen Zero
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