Now THAT’S how you close out an epic fantasy series: oaths kept, mountains shattered, gods slain and resurrected, and a grim, relentless orgy of revenge - people are out here dedicating deaths like Friday night pop song requests. Vigrith is a hard land, but at least when somebody paints the snow with your blood or kicks you until you die stillbirthing yourself out of your own pooper, they tell you why.
But seriously, what a fun book.
Some of my favorite things about Gwynne’s writing in this series, and especially in Fury of the Gods, are:
• Camaraderie: Gwynne writes found family you believe in - you love his characters, you love how they protect each other in the shield wall and out. You want to step into the world long enough to enjoy a cup of ale with the fierce mama bear Orka, or Einar Half-troll, or Elvar Chain-breaker, or especially the hair-proud ginger fellow who loves cheese. (my grasp on names and their spelling is imperfect because I enjoyed this book on audio ) You rage when these characters are betrayed or harmed, and you celebrate when they pull through.
• Inventiveness: This tale has some truly mad and wonderful magic, outstanding set pieces, and fresh takes on old tropes. Gwynne knows what’s out there, and always serves you something hearty that, while perhaps familiar, is at the same time deeply original. I’ll just say “Hrung flung” and IYKYK
• The Fights: Whether it’s a personal duel between blood enemies or mass combat involving trolls, gods, dragons, and men, Gwynne is a master. He orchestrates action that is as clear as it is exciting, and as plausible as it is fantastical.
The sea battle is one of the best maritime clashes in the genre, and in every confrontation the choreography of axe, spear, and shield betrays the author’s hands-on experience.
• The sheer bastardy. People do each other very dirty in this place. Poison, theft, abandonment…there’s one matte-black swatch of treachery where a peevish villain finds a wounded ally on the battlefield and, because said ally had shamed said villain earlier, the villain *murders their helpless comrade in plain sight of others while pretending to grieve*.
In short, I was highly entertained listening to these stories, and deeply satisfied by their conclusion.
Bravo, John Gwynne.
When you’re ready to tell another tale, I will scoot my chair close to the hearth and fill an enemy’s dishwasher-safe skull with mead.