The Emperor's Knife (Tower and Knife Trilogy) [Hardcover]

"The Emperor's Knife" is a debut fantasy with both an original and classic feel. It draws on some classic fantasy elements, but puts a new spin on them, making this a refreshingly original politics-infused novel. While not a page-turning action adventure, the novel has a strong grasp on political intrigue and a slow-boiling plot that will draw the reader in and work its way under your skin.

Williams has created an interesting culture for his series - it is partly influenced by Middle Eastern nations, with a quite a strong (apparent) Turkish or Ottoman feel, only set in a desert location. Some fantasy tropes are featured - for example, the conniving Lord High Vizier - but the world, characters and plot manage to steer it away from unoriginality and deja vu.

"The Emperor's Knife" is steeped in palace politics, intrigue and power squabbles. The Emperor describes the Imperial Palace as a "garden full of snakes", filled with factions vying for attention or power, manipulating others into position for maximum gain and effect. There is also some well-placed commentary on the historical nature of international and royal relations, comprised of "deals with wombs and weapons" - which is probably one of the best phrases I've read in years, fully encapsulating the reality of much of the history of international relations.

To delve too much into the events of the novel will potentially spoil things for a first-time reader, so I'm going to keep the review pretty general and focus on impressions of characters, plot and style.

The novel follows a number of perspectives, but there are three that are more central to the story. Mesema, the daughter of a lord from the steppes, traded to the Cerani in return for favour. Eyul, the world-weary assassin of the synopsis - idealistic in his way, uncomfortable with the frequency with which he is called on to kill, yet peerlessly capable at his profession. Caught up in the conspiracies, Eyul sets out to discover the root of the pattern, and perhaps save the Empire he serves and loves. Sarmin, the hidden and last-surviving brother of the Emperor, locked away in an opulent prison for decades, away from the eyes and attention of those who might wish him harm. He's gone a little mad, locked away for so long in a single room, under guard and with minimal contact with the outside world and its people. His isolation has had a profound impact on his psyche, manifesting his gifts and potential as a mage into an affinity for patterns and other related arts. All three of these characters are engaging and fascinating to read about. Eyul in particular stood out for me, but both Sarmin and Mesema also offer some great chapters and scenes.

While the language Williams uses is predominantly very atmospheric and engrossing, it can at times be a bit florid or opaque. The first handful of chapters will completely draw the reader in - I found myself utterly engrossed and seduced by the world the author has created, and ended up spending hours in a Starbucks as my coffee grew stone-cold, forgotten while I was reading. This quality didn't, unfortunately, last all the way through the novel. As the novel progressed, there were a few instances of slight confusion as to what was going on, which unfortunately meant the momentum suffered. It was difficult to get a handle on, and prevented it from being totally engrossing throughout. It's an issue that is easily fixed, I think, so I have no doubt that by the second novel in the series, Williams will have solved this problem.

On the whole, however, the gentle pace and plotting drew me in - one doesn't always want a rip-roaring adventure, after all - and I found myself losing track of time on a number of occasions. It won't suit everyone's tastes - the pace may be too slow for some readers who prefer more action-oriented fantasy and, while not devoid of action, The Emperor's Knife is more slow-burning political drama than action-adventure. The overall flow and momentum of the novel is perhaps its main weakness.

All of the characters featured in TEK are interesting and often original takes on some classic fantasy types. However, there are moments when seem to act out of character, or certain developments happen a little too suddenly (particularly love-interest). Part of this is down to the aforementioned pacing/flow issue, but also the stripped down narrative and world-building. It leaves the reader in a strange position: we want more world-building and character development (the setting is great), but are already a little concerned with the pacing. Strange. I can see that the author kept things lean in order to allow for a proper ending to this novel, however a couple of these characters develop in a relatively short space of time what other series might allow two or three novels to accomplish (or, if you're unlucky, far more than three novels, seemingly without end...).

We see an Agrippina-like mother figure in Nessaket (Beyon and Sarmin's mother); plotting now that she is free of her husband, working only to forward her own agenda. As the various factions start moving their pawns into position, executing their plans, her place changes and we see a far more vulnerable and fearful side of her. Nessaket and Tuvaini, the Vizier, are truly Machiavellian, and it is through their actions that we see just how dangerous and complex the palace politics of the Cerani Empire are. It's great drama, played out subtly and delicately, with the patience of a master chess player.

It is through Mesema's eyes that we get a better picture of the Cerani culture - she is an outsider, Sarmin's prospective bride - and her perspective shows us the differences in character and temperament between her people and the somewhat arrogant Cerani. Mesema's perspective is also a window into the hard lot of women in this world. Her people treat them like slaves or breeders, not much use other than serving the needs of the men. The Cerani treat them similarly, although the royal household does enjoy some extra freedoms. There are some good parallels with some of the customs of the cultures he's used as inspiration for the world he has created.

There are a couple of interesting magic systems at play in the novel. First up - but not featured overly much - is the elemental magic of the official mages, which I thought has a lot of potential (the mages take an elemental spirit into themselves, and when they die they seem to swap places). The other, more central magic of the novel is that of the mysterious patterns that have plagued the Cerani empire, turning Carriers into mindless automatons. It's intriguing from the start, to learn of this pattern-plague, and as we start seeing hints of what it might be and mean the mystery is unveiled in a rather satisfying way. That being said, it was not always clear how it worked, which left me feeling a little confused at times - this was mainly the result of the prose-issues I mention, above.

"The Emperor's Knife" is sure to whet the appetites of lovers of epic fantasy, as it did mine. It offers so much potential that it is next to impossible not to sit up and take note, to be intrigued by his characters and setting. Mazarkis has gone for an uncommon setting, and populated it with some classic characters altered to suit his unique premise. However, I think it may be too soon to tell just how much of an impact he is going to have on the genre. There's huge potential, so now I just have to wait until I get my hands on book two to know that he's fulfilling it.

The novel is not flawless, and there were the aforementioned few momentum issues, but overall this is a solid debut from an author whose work I will most certainly be following in the future.

Recommended.

The Emperor's Knife, the first in a new trilogy (The Tower and the Knife), is Mazarkis Williams' début novel--and one of the first offerings from brand new SFF imprint, Jo Fletcher Books (Quercus).

I recently interviewed Mazarkis (interview link to be added when it goes live over at Fantasy Faction), before I'd finished up with the book, and found him to be a great guy who told a great story. It may sound obvious, but sometimes in the modern market, writers are so bogged down with what they "should" be writing, that sometimes the story suffers. Williams tells a story; nothing more, nothing less. And for it, The Emperor's Knife is an engaging, interesting book that really whets the appetite for the following books in the series.

The Emperor's Knife offers a setting with a definite Persian/Arabian flavour--picture both Prince of Persia and Arabian Nights, then meet somewhere in the middle, and we're there--which is both exotic, a break from the pseudo-European worlds that permeate fantasy, and exciting. We're treated to tall towers, hot desert sands and nomads, glittering palaces, and an almighty Emperor, seen as the Son of Heaven. It's a spectacular setting that stretches from the beautiful palace and the urban expanse it sits at the heart of, across the desert, and to flat plains where the grasses are tousled by the winds and the Windreaders dwell. It's a beautifully set book, with a very clear sense of imagery: you are very aware of what everything looks like, and the level of immersion is unusually deep.

For a début novel, this is utterly stunning. Williams weaves a deeply subtle and mysterious story with very little effort, and to the very last page, the plotting is tight, clean and strong. In fact, the book was an absolute pleasure to read: a pleasure to identify with each and every character, even in a small way; a pleasure to turn each page, constantly guessing at the nature of the villain and his "weapon"; a pleasure to reach the final page with a huge grin, eagerly seeking the rest of the story to see what happens to the characters you've come to know.

Williams' styling is different, cleaner, and definitely more simplistic in parts, than what I'm used to. My ideal fashion of prose is somewhere between Patrick Rothfuss and Elspeth Cooper, with Blake Charlton's exposition thrown in. Williams' style is close to none of these; it is entirely different. Whilst he does flirt with exposition in parts, the presentation is so different and integral to the narrative of his characters, that he comes exceptionally close to the idea of "show, not tell", for a fantasy novel. Personally, someone tells me to "show, not tell" and I want to run a thousand miles in the opposite direction. It reminds me far too much of non-genre lecturers slowly killing the art of exposition, word by word. However, I enjoyed Williams' style: it added to the mystery and effect of his setting, somehow.

It's an incredibly subtle novel, but one that compels you to keep turning the pages, right until the very end. The characters are interesting and likeable--Sarmin, trapped and kept from the world; Mesema, taken from her home by duty, and thrown into a tangled web of intrigue; Eyul, ever seeking forgiveness for the blood on his hands--and keep the reader's attention rooted, even when there's little action taking place.

In fact, there isn't much in the way of action, and this certainly isn't a "swashbuckling" tale of scimitars. Instead, it's a fantasy-mystery with one of the most subtle, yet ingenious plots I have seen in a long time. Perhaps what really makes The Emperor's Knife succeed as a fantasy-mystery, is that is lacks the necessary components that make a classic mystery: there is no hint of a "whodunit", and no real way of tracing events to their source in order to figure out the villain. Of course, throughout the story a list of "possible suspects" is built up, but it is a small one, and one of the characters was struck from the list immediately, following the same line of thought of "the butler did it". Williams' is too slick for the blindingly obvious. (I am fairly proud that I guessed the villain (of course I won't reveal the identity here!), and prouder still that it was a single line that led me to guess just who was behind the Pattern.)

As one of Jo Fletcher Books' first offerings, The Emperor's Knife has definitely sealed my initial opinion at least: this new imprint is one to look out for. Williams' début was an anticipated read, for me, and I was not disappointed in the slightest. A fantastic book with a deep vein of emotion and thought about human nature beneath, The Emperor's Knife strikes a chord because it is such a human story--yet an ultimately positive story.

A brilliant, slick, and well-crafted début.

Jo Fletcher is a name that most people know in the fantasy world, not only because she's a huge fan of the genre but mainly due to the sheer volume of books she's helped bring to the modern reader. They're always interesting, they always have a way of working into the readers subconscious and its obvious the love she has for the genre.

So when it was announced that she was starting her own imprint I was more than curious to see what she'd bat out with as this normally sets the tone for what is to come. The books have been wide and varied but perhaps the one that grabbed my attention the quickest was this fantasy title by debut author Mazarkis as I really wanted to see what she'd bring when given free range.

What unfurls within the pages is a story that has elements of David Gemmell's spirit of man, the political double dealing of George RR Martin and the unlimited feel that Patrick Rothfuss brought to the genre. It has great intrigue, solid prose and perhaps best of all it's the characters that really keep you glued as the Middle Eastern influences allow a huge scope. Add to this a writing ability that will surprise a number of people to discover is a debut author and overall it's a title that will give a great opening to Mazarkis' world alongside the chance to explore further in future releases. Magical.