I first read these books about five years ago, and found them to be a
rollicking (if gory) good time. I’d borrowed them (and their sequels)
from my brother, which is always a problem if I turn out to like the
books, because he wants them back. And then, by the time I want to read
them again, they are out-of-print. I managed to snag my own copies of
these two, and some of the later books are still in print, but number
three is selling used for absurd sums of money.

When I re-read a book, I make it a rule not to read any previous
reviews before writing a new review; what I’m writing about this time is
how the book struck me this time. In this case, though, I broke my
rule–and discovered that my original review really does capture the
spirit of these books pretty well. So well, in fact, that I’m going
to break another rule and reprint a review:

* * * * *

These are the first two books in the duo’s “Belisarius” series, a series
with one of the silliest premises I’ve seen in a long time. I’m tempted
to tear these books apart in at least six different ways, and the only
thing that’s stopping me is how much I’m enjoying them–which is
considerably.

First, let me describe the background. It is early in the reign of
Byzantine Emperor Justinian the Great, back for yet another walk on our
stage. Belisarius is his best general, and perhaps one of the greatest
generals of all time. But then a hermit comes to Belisarius with a
mysterious crystal that brings visions, and this is where Belisarius’
story and our own history explicitly part company. For the crystal
reveals that a new empire, the Malwa empire, has arisen in India. The
Malwa are bent on conquering the world–and they have weapons we would
recognize as cannon, grenades, and rockets. These weapons are still
incredibly primitive by modern standards–the rockets are particularly
erratic and hard to control–but they are far in advance of anything
available to the Romans. The crystal has come to aid Belisarius to defeat
the Malwa; the future of the human race depends on it.

First and foremost, these are war novels; the details of each campaign
and each battle are described with loving details. It’s the sort of thing
one could imagine Byzantine soldiers of fortune reading in their
off-hours, perhaps serialized in the latest issue of Swords and Scabbards
magazine, right before the “mercenaries wanted” advertisements. And,
perhaps because they are war novels, the authors have loaded them up with
mounds of casual, cheerful profanity, and school boy jokes that ought to
grow tiresome after a while–but somehow they don’t. There’s lots of arch
banter from almost all of the good guys that sits oddly on many of their
lips, and which should detract from the tale–but somehow it doesn’t.

Perhaps it’s just that I came to these books immediately after reading
something by Dorothy Dunnett, and that I’m trying to hold them to a
higher standard than I ordinarily would–but despite all of the silly,
profane, juvenile elements, the fact remains that I’m having a rollicking
good time. There’s just something delightful about watching a collection
of superbly competent folk cheerfully and cleverly kicking the bloody
hell out of some nasty people who desperately deserve it. Perhaps it’s
cathartic.

What can I say? If you have any taste for alternate history, and don’t
mind profanity and body parts gaily strewn about in pools of gore, you
should give these a try. You might not respect yourself in the morning,
but you’ll have an entertaining night.