Every so often I take a shot at a hazard and find something unexpectedly
wonderful, and that’s definitely the case here. What’s even more
wonderful is that this is the first book in a series–and I’ve come to it
late enough that I think that the entire thing has been written. I just
need to go about and buy the subsequent books.
Lord of the Isles is the beginning of an epic fantasy with a
number of interesting and original twists. The world in which it is set
is divided into two oceans, the Outer Sea and the Inner Sea, by a roughly
circular ring of islands. At one time the islands were united under a
single king, but that last king, Carus of Haft, was brought down by a
would-be usurper; the ensuing struggles ushered in a thousand years of
chaos.
There are many wizards in the world of the Isles, and one interesting
twist is that few of them know what they are doing. They’ve got kibbles
and bits of learning, but few of them can perceive the forces they
manipulate by rote. The results they get can be wildly at variance with
their intentions. I like this because it turns one of my pet peeves on
its head–the hero who has exceptionally strong magic powers, but has no
idea how to harness them. Andre Norton wrote a good many of
these, but she’s not alone; Robert Jordan has turned the idea
into a saga that stands at ten books and counting. And the thing that
annoys me about it is the whole deus ex machina thing. Just when
the hero has gotten into a fix and is facing certain death, he reaches
down to the depths of his soul and in a triumph of nebulous, overwrought
prose does the dirty to his enemies in a blaze of wild magic. Which he
still won’t know how to control when it’s all over. I think Drake’s take
on it is much more amusing.
The problem is enhanced because there are magical tides of a sort.
Wizards can draw on two sources of power, the “Sun”, which is a good
principle, or Malkar, which is an evil principle. Most drawn on a
mixture of the two. But the sources are stronger at some times than at
others, and just as happened a thousand years earlier when Carus was
overthrown, Malkar is becoming ever more strong in the world. So these
various wizards not only don’t know what they are doing, not only can’t
they see where their power is coming from, but they are far stronger than
they would have been a hundred years earlier. They are like children
playing with molotov cocktails instead of matches.
On top of this interesting setting, Drake has created a set of intriguing
characters.
There’s Tenoctris, a wizard from an earlier age, cast
forward in time by the magic cataclysm that killed King Carus. Unlike
most of the wizards we run into, Tenoctris’ powers are extremely weak.
But unlike them she’s a scholar; and on top of that she can see the
forces they manipulate blindly.
There’s Garric, a descendant of King
Carus, with whom he has some kind of arcane link; he’s clearly destined
to be the next King of the Isles, though it’s nothing he desires.
There’s Cashel, shepherd, adept of the quarterstaff, and (though he
doesn’t think about it) a strong wizard in his own right. He doesn’t
draw circles and cast spells like the others; instead, he uses it
instinctively. He’s a man of character and integrity, and his magic is
part of that (as Tenoctris says, he has good instincts). He’s also, I
gather, half sprite, which may explain things.
There’s Sharina, Garric’s sister. There are two factions trying to
regain rule of all of the islands, and when she is discovered to be the
long and well-lost daughter of the Duke of Haft, and thus heir to Carus,
she becomes a pawn in their hands. But she’s well able to take care of
herself.
And there are as many others that I don’t have time to write about. I
like many of them. And they don’t bicker incessantly like
Robert Jordan’s characters, which is just about worth the
price of admission.
The bottom-line is, if you have any taste for epic fantasy, buy it.
You’ll like it.