King of Thorns - Mark Lawrence

The Blurb:  The boy who would be King has gained the throne...

Prince Honorious Jorg Ancrath vowed when he was nine to avenge his slaughtered mother and brother—and punish his father for not doing so. When he was fifteen, he began to fulfill that vow. Now he is eighteen—and he must hold on by strength of arms to what he took by torture and treachery.

King Jorg is a man haunted: by the ghost of a young boy, by a mysterious copper box, by his desire for the woman who rides with his enemy. Plagued by nightmares of the atrocities he committed, and of the atrocities committed against him when he was a child, he is filled with rage. And even as his need for revenge continues to consume him, twenty thousand men march toward the gates of his castle. His enemy is far stronger than him. Jorg knows that he cannot win a fair fight.

But he has found, in a chamber hidden beneath the castle, ancient and long-lost artifacts. Some might call them magic. Jorg is not certain—all he knows is that the secrets they hold can be put to terrible use in the coming battle...

I won't lie, I've been waiting for this book since reading Prince of Thorns. I've been internet stalking Mark Lawrence for months, snapping up any and all hints, sneak peeks and deleted scenes. Hell, most of the fragments he's released has been reposted on this site.

The book is written solely from Jorg's point of view, with other character's thoughts only showing up as letters and interactions with Jorg. The four years between Prince of Thorns and King of Thorns isn't neglected though, since most of the story is told through flashback. Not classic blurry memory flashback, more through "four years earlier" but it's done well and interspersed throughout the current storyline. It supports and explains Jorg's actions and thinking, as well as consequentness of his previous actions coming home to roost.

Jorg is getting married. For those who knows Jorg, this might come as quite a shock. Our favourite little Captain Insane-o getting married? Can't be. Don't worry though, this happens four years after Prince of Thorns. The little bastard has grown up quite a bit.

Jorg's back story gets some perspective and attention in the book. This helps to explain why he sees the world as he does. There is a certain scene with Jorg and his father that made me feel physically ill. I can't remember the last time this happened, and it made me appreciate the writing so much more. You must be damn good to make me feel nauseous and uncomfortable. This certainly isn't criticism, it's praise. To suck you in and make you care so deeply that you feel so much is an art. 

The rest of the world gets some fleshing out throughout the book. Quite a nice chunk of it gets explored by Jorg and his Brothers and new, interesting people and creatures are met. Not all of them are killed, which was quite nice. 

There are some shady characters moving people and nations around as pawns and they are truly in the background, pulling the strings. There's even a bit of prophecy coming to the fore from them, pushing the world into a certain direction, but Jorg really does not care for prophecy or being controlled. They should have known better.

Jorg has really matured throughout this book. He cares for his friends, even if he won't admit it to himself. He starts to show empathy towards strangers and his people. He hasn't gone soft though. He'll burn the world if he feels it'll get him what he wants and he'll not shed a single tear. This point is proven again in the climax of the book. He may be a bit more cuddly that younger Jorg, but he's still the hardest and most calculating bastard in the Broken Empire.

This book is written so well, the characters are amazing and the world is unique and interesting. Jorg is still on his mission to be the Emperor of the Broken Empire, and he's daring anyone to try and stop him. Distant lands are also spoken of, which makes me wonder what stories will be written about them. 

The Broken Empire has certainly jumped to the top of my favourite series pile. Go read this book. It's brilliant.

10/10

What a performance!

Now I know I'm a bit behind in my reading, but some good stuff is on the horison. I'm currently busy with Paul S. Kemp's The Hammer and the Blade, then right into Chuck Wendig's Mockingbird - with a giveaway - and then most probably Mark Lawrence's King of Thorns. So there are some damn good books and reviews coming in the near future.

I'm behind because of the Olympics. The games have sucked me in, and refuses to let me go. We do not stand much chance of a huge medal haul here in South Africa, it's always been that way. That's why when we win one it's kind of a big deal. Cameron van der Burgh worked his ass off to dominate in the 100m breststroke and Chad le Clos stunned the world in the 200m Butterfly. Thanks guys, you made my year!

King of Thorns Fragment XI

From the blog of Mark Lawrence, another deleted teaser for the second book in the Broken Empire series, King of Thorns.

Connie Hux, sixteen, arrow shot, Haunt, east wall.

Daughter of Samath and Greta. Born Hodd Town, Renar.

The speed of the shafts zipping over the walls didn’t scare Connie. It isn’t until you haul the bowstring back for your first shot, until you feel it bite at your fingers through the leather of the guard flap, and your bicep aches with the tension, that you remember just what rides behind the sharp iron of those arrowheads. The arrows didn’t scare her - she scared herself.

Connie loosed six shots into the men streaming to reinforce the enemy’s ram. She knew each one hit, though she didn’t stop to watch. Commonsense dropped her between shots and she’d no desire to see men die. If it were her say the gates would open and the Prince of Arrow could have her oath. But Camson was on the walls, up in arms to defend the Highlands and King Jorg. And it only stands to reason – the more who held the walls alongside him, the less likely Camson would be to get hit.

As Connie stood for her seventh shot, Camson glanced her way, a wild grin on him. Even the winter sun struck gold from his hair.

The day turned darker.

“God no . . .” A voice that creaked with age.

Old Jorna’s fingers hurt her shoulders as he helped her down. The light came flat as before a storm.

“I’m not hit.” She tried to say it.

Across the wall Camson loosed another arrow out toward the ridge, not seeing her, not looking.

 “I’m not hit.” The words wouldn’t come.

“Ah hell . . .” Something more than age cracked Jorna’s voice.

And darkness took her.

King of Thorns Fragment.

From the blog of Mark Lawrence, another teaser for his upcoming novel, King of Thorns.


Gog

Skin, bones, and mischief comprise Brother Gog. Monster born and monster bred but there’s little to mark him from Adam save the stippled crimson-on-black of his hide, the dark wells of his eyes, ebony talons on hand and foot, and the thorny projections starting to grow along his spine. Watch him play and run and laugh, and he seems too at ease to be a crack in the world through which all the fires of hell might pour. Watch him burn though, and you will believe it.


Brother Maical

Brother Maical’s wisdom lies in knowing he is not clever and letting himself be led. The foolishness of mankind is that we do not do the same.


***

Chaliced Rome, fourteen, arrow shot, Haunt, east wall.

Son of Molly Freerange, father unknown, raised in the Haunt’s shadow.

So many arrows had missed him that Chaliced started to think they all would. He started to think Kelly’s warm kiss, the one she gave behind the stables, really would keep him safe. Even when the arrow came he thought it some kind of mistake. It didn’t look like an arrow, just black flights and an inch of wood standing from his chest. It hadn’t felt sharp, more like a punch. He reached to tug at it but his fingers were too cold to grip. Chaliced turned to ask Old Jorna and something hit him in the neck. 

To fall forty feet from wall-walk to courtyard flagstones takes almost no time, but starting to fall, those moments of imbalance, of flailing arms, of a foot finding nothing but air beneath it, they can take forever. 
Even falling Chaliced didn’t think he would die, or that he could die. Fourteen is too young for it. He wanted . . . too many things. One more kiss would do.

King of Thorns Fragment

Another fragment from the upcoming King of Thorns by Mark Lawrence. 


Brother Row

Age set its hand on Brother Row and left him forever fifty, not wanting to touch him a second time. Grey, grizzled, lean, gristly, mean. That pale-eyed old man will bend and twist but never break. He’ll hold where the better man would fail beneath his load. The shortest of our number, rank and filthy, seamed with forgotten scars, often overlooked by men who had scant time to reflect on their mistake.  

King of Thorns Fragments

From the blog of Mr. Lawrence:


A pre-chapter Brother-line: 
 You won’t see Brother Grumlow try to knife you, only the sorrow in his eyes as you fall.

 & a one of the deleted pre-chapter battle vignettes: 

 Nial Ravener, thirty-four, spear wound. Blue Moon Pass. Son of Graem and Nalla, raised in the Haunt. Husband to Erin. Father to Kai, Kelin, and Keris. The spear hurt less than the climbing. Nial pitched into the deep snow, almost grateful for the excuse to stop. He lay cradled in softness. Time was I could run all day. From valley to peak. Then time caught me up. A blessing to die in the snow. Clean, serene, where all sins are covered, in the purity of high places. No pain but the ache in his lungs and the memory of agony in his thighs. It felt good to be still, in a cool embrace, cold kisses on his forehead. Even the hot wet wound in his back seemed like release. Images of Erin at the cottage door. The children in the hay. Bright days of summer. Too bright. Nial turned to older days, dim yesterdays lit now by the last beats of his heart. He remembered his mother, framed in golden curls. How fiercely he had loved her.

He's getting quite good at the teasing isn't he?

In other news, I've survived my operation, and I'm going strong, thanks to the awesome pain medication.
Reviews for Sam Sykes Black Halo and Perdido Street Station by China Mieville following soon.

King of Thorns Fragments 6

Gorgoth 


Gorgoth is like no other. There is no mould for the leucrota. Twisted by the Builders’ poisons they fall broken from the womb and follow strange paths as they grow. The ribs that pierce his flesh and reach from each side are black and thick, his hide more red than blood, and the muscle beneath surges as he moves. And though he is shaped for war and for horror, there are few men in Adam’s image whose approval would mean as much to me – and most of them lie dead.

King of Thorns fragment

Here's another teaser from Mark Lawrence.


"Martel Harris, twenty-three, sword blow. Blue Moon Valley, west of the Haunt. 


 Son of Martel and Hela, born above the Falling Angel’s barroom, Crath City, Ancrath. 


 Find something worth following and stick to it, son. Martel took his father’s advice along with his name, and both served him well. He followed into the Forest Watch, followed the Forest Watch into the Renar Highlands. He followed the son as he had the father. Just don’t put a foot wrong. Another gem of Harris the Elder’s wisdom. Martel put a foot wrong in Blue Moon Valley. You can’t follow on a turned ankle. He drew his sword and chose his spot amidst the broken rock. Kenna and Justin tried to stay with him. The first time anyone ever tried to follow Martel Harris. He saw them off with curses and threats. A tear ran hot on his cheek in the coldness of the wind. He watched the men of Arrow over the bright line of his blade. “I may have followed, but I wasn’t led.”"

King of Thorns - Fragments part 4

Publised on Mr. Lawrence's blog:


"Brother Makin has high ideals. If he kept to them, we would be enemies. If he nursed his failure, we would not be friends."


Makin was one of my favourites in Prince of Thorns. I can't wait!

Mark Lawrence - King of Thorns fragments 3

The third instalment of the little tasters of King of Thorns, the second book by Mark Lawrence.

Brother Grumlow

In the long ago, in the gentle days, Brother Grumlow carved wood, worked with saw and chisel. When hard times come carpenters are apt to get nailed to crosses. Grumlow took up the knife and learned to carve men. He looks soft, my brother of the blade, slight in build, light in colour, weak chin, sad eyes, all of him drooping like the moustache that hangs off his lip. Yet he has fast hands and no fear of a sharp edge. Come against him with just a dagger for company and he will cut you a new opinion.

I love this little leaks. 

In other news, I'm off on holiday from tomorrow until 27 February. It's time to recharge my batteries, play some golf and indulge too much in food and drink. 

Mark Lawrence: King of Thorns Fragments 2

Hello party people. Mark Lawrence, author of the frankly brilliant Prince of Thorns, is busy editing the next book, aptly titled King of Thorns. He thought it good to release the cut bits to the public, which is nice of him. These parts were meant to be fillers between the chapters, to show us some of humanity in his world. From his blog:

"Sorren Hammerson, seventeen, arrow shot. Tellan slopes, below the Haunt.

Son of William and Sereh, raised in Northdean, Renar.

The arrow pinned him to the moment, and Sorren fell, knowing that for all his life he and the arrow had been racing toward each other.

He fell. His head bounced once and his helm clattered away. A last breath left in a crimson spray of surprise. Sound faded, bowstrings thrummed into silence, the sky bright and wide, filled everything. He had wanted to be a farmer. He had wanted Milly Turner. The sky narrowed to the gleam of her hair. Narrowed again. Gone."

Mark Lawrence - King of Thorns Fragments

Via the blog of Mark Lawrence, we receive the first fragment from his upcoming novel, the second book in the Broken Empire series, The King of Thorns:

"Brother Kent

In the red ruin of battle Brother Kent oft looks to have stepped from hell. Though in another life he would have tilled his fields and died abed, mourned by grandchildren. In combat Red Kent possesses a clarity that terrifies and lays waste. In all else he is a man confused by his own contradictions – a killer’s instincts married to a farmer’s soul. Not tall, not broad, but packed solid and quick, wide cheekbones, dark eyes flat with murder, bitten lips, scarred hands, thick-fingered, loyalty and the need to be loyal written through him."

I cannot wait for this book. Prince of Thorns was one of my favourite reads of 2011. Come on August!