Sigurd grew up with his grandmother, bothered only by the trolls that seemed bent on destroying their settlement. Then she died, leaving him a mysterious box he couldn't open and a confused warning against some dread warlord or wizard--he couldn't be sure of which from her final ravings. Then the grim warlord Halfdane came to abduct him by force into the Realm of the Alfar.
Now he was a virtual prisoner in the hill fort of Halfdane, caught in a bitter war between light and dark elves. And he seemed trapped on the losing side. His only hope was to escape and somehow learn what powerful magic was contained in the box and which everyone seemed bent on stealing from him.
Of course, there were a few walking dead, a cursed sword, and a multitude of savage trolls to be faced. But the strange wizard Jotull was willing--oh, very willing--to help him!
Wish I could give it a three and a half. Would be tempted to give it four if it had given a glossary of terms and/or a pronunciation guide. As it is, it’s worth a good read. Elizabeth Boyer is obviously in love with Norse mythology as this book is drawn heavily from that well. While not all spellings match up with the ones in common use today it is easy to figure out what is what. A thing to keep in mind while reading this is that a “scipling” is an ordinary human being and “Skarpsey” is the stand in for Scandinavia. Never realized Wizard and the Warlord was part of a series as there are no markings that proclaim it to be. The others in the World of Alfar (Alfar=elves btw), don’t seem to carry on any kind of overall story, just episodic adventures to be read in any order.
The style of storytelling here will not appeal to all, especially if all one has read are works published in the last ten years or so. There is not a lot of diversity in characters, the lead protagonist and his closest allies are all young males with a lot of testosterone who tend to act like 10-12 year olds particularly when it comes to the opposite sex, of which there is really only two examples. One is the love interest and one being a farmer's wife who mainly exists to give her husband and our leads a hard time—neither of which really have an impact on the story through their own actions.
Having said all that, the style of storytelling reminds me of the translations of La Morte de Arthur, and Ovid’s Metamorphoses that I read in college combined with Edith Hamilton’s Mythology and the D&D 1st edition module of your choice, so it had a weird echo of nostalgia for me. If the other books in her limited body of work have the same vibe I just might eventually get around to reading them.
This is the sort of book that as soon as the setup is done you think "OK, so X is going to happen" and then have to wait for 80% of the book for the quite heavily telegraphed thing to actually happen. I'd say that this is possibly the best of this (mediocre) series so far - the writing is definitely a bit better than the first couple of books - but it is blighted by a phenomenally stupid hero.
After his settlement is abandoned and his grandmother dies, our protagonist Sigurd is (against his will) rescued from certain doom and taken to the magical land of the Alfar, only taking with him a mysterious box that his grandmother said was his inheritance. Everyone powerful he meets wants the box, but none will directly take it from him, and so resort to cajoling, scolding, manipulation, or tricky to try and get him to promise them the contents when he figures out how to open it.
Siggi is the most contrarian little bitch of a protagonist that I have ever had the displeasure of encountering in fiction. You can trust that any time he's given good advice, he'll do the opposite, and anytime someone has poor intentions for him he'll trust them against all signs not to. The other characters aren't off the hook either, constantly holding back important information from him that could maybe lead to him making, well, at least informed poor decisions. Plenty of the more heroic Alfar he spends his time with know quite a bit more about Sigurd's family history and the box he has with him than they ever bother to tell him, so really what reason does he have to trust anybody at all?
I found this book plodding and frustrating, to the extent that I likely would have given up on it rather than finish it if I didn't have a friend who powered through it already to vent my frustrations at.
Elizabeth Boyer is an oft-overlooked fantasy author from the 1980s, but she is worth seeking out. Setting her books against a backdrop of Scandinavian myth and folklore, her works convey a true feel for the way the magical realm of the Alfar was believed to interact with our realm when these myths were believed to be real.
The Wizared and the Warlord is an OK read, but further exemplifies the same criticism I have about most of Boyer's work: She has a tendency to write very unlikeable protagonists. While reading this book, there were many times when I felt like our hero needed a smack in the back of the head to clear his thoughts. Willful ignorance is a decent plot point when trying to drive home the differences between the Alfar Realm and the Scipling Realm, but Boyer has a tendency to take this too far. This book's protagonist is especially over the top, and the excuses presented during the story fall flat. While a good continuation of her series, this is definitely the weakest entry of her works.
The was written by the same author who wrote the book that last year I snarled at the Big D for trying to make me put it down. While this book wasn't snarling good, I still enjoyed it. One thing that makes it interesting is that it delves into Scandinavian mythos with using the gods or Valhalla, so you learn a little about the lessor known elements of Scandinavian lore.
I'm not sure if fantasy is my genre, to be honest. There were parts of this I enjoyed, but there were also parts that didn't really work, including the way magic can be used to resolve inconvenient plot points or, indeed, provide an all to convenient resolution to the story.
A dark saga in the viking style, set in somewhere like Iceland, where a young man is persuaded by his enemies that they are his friends . . . hard going in places.
While the story’s conflict feels like a cautious shrug, it remains an interesting piece, with Scandinavian-myth inspired characters. Sigurd, the youngish protagonist, deals with the loss of his home and his beloved grandmother, only to be swept up with the very people she had warned him about. He struggles to understand a different world of magical folk immersed in a permanent war.
The protagonist, Sigurd, is meant to fill the role of young, impetuous, reluctant hero, but seems maddeningly young. He complains (a lot), makes demands, insists that he’s going to do something or other, then doesn’t, making him seem ineffectual. Even though he has been lied to, he is often horribly, frustratingly obtuse, despite obvious dangers and intentions of others. He does get to be the hero sometimes, although the book’s strengths lie more in the area of description, world-building, suspense, and mythology than in action.
Boyer maintains a compelling ambiguity with the characters Sigurd encounters. The good guys may not be as good as advertised, and the bad guys are surprisingly pleasant and polite, at least to Sigurd, whose services they want. Everyone, really, except for bloodthirsty goblins, seems pretty nice to each other, and no one ever gets to a point of being properly backstabby and hateworthy. If anything, one feels appreciative of their having to put up with Sigurd’s grousing (Rolfr, at least, remains Sigurd’s steadfast, irrepressible friend throughout, and is likeable. He makes a superior Moonglum/Samwise/Wulfhere to Sigurd’s Elric/Frodo/Cormac Mac Art). Why is Sigurd the hero? Because he’s the focalizer of the narrative.
This contributes to a feeling (by this reader) that the story doesn’t quite commit itself to anything:
All that said, it remains a fun read. The writing is elegant, the descriptions compelling, and the moods well-developed.
I suspect I read this book before, because there were 2 scenes and one event that seemed familiar to me. Maybe I remembered what was in the box. Or maybe it was obvious. So the book must have managed to make a few lasting impressions while being otherwise utterly unmemorable. For those moments and the fact that I persevered this time through, this story gains its perhaps undeserved two stars.
It's really hard to identify with a character who is so utterly immature, arrogant and stupid. He's surrounded by people who are blatantly transparent in their guile or lack thereof, so I felt the author thought the reader almost as stupid as Sigurd. Sigurd is told outright that one person is still alive, yet he remains convinced that he is not, and later parts of the story depend on this.
The writing is almost adequate. It has several significant flaws. Much of the story is told rather than exposed. In some of the fast forwards, there's an "oh, by the way I guess I should have told you this" feel: Oh, by the way, he learned how to do that thing I mentioned over the winter; Oh, by the way, they were married over a year ago. Many sentences try to be cleverly worded but the end result is unclear antecedents or other ambiguities that force re-reading. And the behaviour of all characters seems questionable. All characters in this book, from warlords to magicians to grandmothers to constant companions are stupid. Just not as stupid as Sigurd.
Ethics and morality seems to be another failure. There are two examples at the end of the book. One is very obvious. I wonder who else notices the second?
I bought this as a teenager and just decided to reread it. I still like the setting, a fantasy world based on Scandinavian mythology - there are Alfar and Trolls and restless dead men wandering from their graves. Unfortunately, the plot depends a little too much on the hero being kinda stubborn and thick. There were several points where I wanted to slap some sense into him. Admittedly, some of the other characters clearly had the same urge, so this wasn't bad writing but a deliberate choice. I still got annoyed. YMMV.
I'm still trying to run down some of Ms. Boyer's novels. I found them first some years ago (like 20) and snatched up as many as I could find new and old and am still looking for them. These are great reads with great prose and I am close to giving them 5 each time, but feel they aren't quite up to the way I feel about say, Lord of the Rings or Deed of Paksenarrion. I'd go 4'5 if I could...and I "at least plan" to read them again. It sort of depends on available time.
It has been over 20 years since I read it, and I still remember the basic storyline, so it must have had a lasting effect. While not a "deep" novel by any means, it was an entertaining read and I could empathize with the characters, though thinking on it now, the antagonists were definitely one-dimensional - evil just for the sake of being evil, rather than having some logical reasons behind that stance.
Even more so than the previous volume (The Thrall and the Dragon's Heart), I just didn't care. This time, not even enough to finish it. I put it down, picked up another book instead, and went from "I kind of want to know how this ends.. better slog on" to "I want to know what happens on the next page, right now!". Then I remembered that's how reading is *supposed* to make me feel. Life's too short and my shelves too full for poor-to-mediocre books.
Read this whole series as a teenager and loved it! I've been trying to think of the author's name for at least a month and it finally came to me yesterday!