This is the first new fantasy series that I’ve read in quite some time. In fact, it’s only the second this year (the other was Ed McDonald’s Blackwing). Long-time readers of CR may have noticed that I’ve been struggling with the genre for a while, but Age of Assassins really worked for me. This is the start of an interesting, engaging and entertaining new fantasy series. I’m really looking forward to the sequel.

I enjoyed the small-scale of the novel: most of the action takes place within a single, small-ish city (at least, that’s the impression I got of the place). This meant Barker didn’t spend endless pages on worldbuilding and extraneous details, and could instead focus on the characters and the events taking place before the reader. This does not mean that the world felt underdeveloped or incomplete — quite the opposite. There was some venturing forth, as well as mention of the wider politics of the region. We learn that the world has suffered an environmental decline, with great swathes fallow and uninhabitable. (Magical shenanigans were involved.) I have a feeling the world will open up considerably in the next two novels — at least, that’s the impression I get from the second synopsis, anyway.

The characters are pretty interesting. Girton, for example, is a former slave with a club-foot, rescued (well, bought) by a master assassin, and trained as an apprentice. We learn about his past through a series of short flashbacks. His relationship with Merela Karn was an interesting and endearing one. She has clearly taken on the role of not only professional mentor, but also a mother-figure of sorts. Girton grows up a fair bit over the course of the novel — not that he was immature or infantile at the beginning, but life comes at him pretty hard, as he learns more about life, politics, himself, and friendship.

The two assassins are hired by Queen Adran to discover the identity of another assassin, who has been hired to kill her son, the heir to the throne. Karn has a history with Adran, the details of which we learn as the novel progresses. Girton goes undercover as a son of a far-off lord, joining the squires to be close to the other noble sons — a potential pool of suspects. Karn takes on the role of a jester — a perfect role to move about freely in the castle, among the nobles. There are various factions and conflicting agenda in the castle, and our two heroes are kept busy throughout.

“The whole atmosphere of this castle was like a bowstring held taut, pregnant with violence.”

The novel is, at heart, a murder mystery, and Barker does a great job of dropping hints and red herrings at the right moments to keep us guessing. The story moves at a good clip, never feeling rushed, but nor do scenes get bogged down with unnecessary or excessive details.

I was pleased to find the novel quite funny, too — it’s been billed as part of the new wave of grimdark, and sure there are certain elements of that on display. However, it’s also frequently funny. Whether via a well-placed quip, or bizarre situation, Age of Assassin is not as poe-faced as other examples in the genre can be.

“There is something rewarding in picking a lock. Something very satisfying about the click of the barrels and the pressure vanishing as the lock gives way to skill. It is not quite as rewarding done while a castle’s toilets empty themselves over your body, but a happy life is one where you take your pleasures where you can.”

Here’s another one that amused me, as a (half-)Scot:

“She left while I finished hanging my kilt. It took me another half-hour because a kilt is a truly stupid garment and I question the sanity of any man who would wear one voluntarily.”

Overall, then: Age of Assassins is a very strong fantasy debut, and the start of a very promising series. If you’re a fan of fantasy — especially the novels of Brent Weeks, Robin Hobb, Scott Lynch, and Joe Abercrombie (to name but four) — I think you’ll find a lot to enjoy here, too.

Definitely recommended.

Age of Assassins is a definite example of what I’ve come to call “book vibes”, that impossible-to-define combination of factors that draws me to a book on the basis of little or no information about it: over the years I’ve learned to listen to this subliminal urging (or its opposite twin that warns me about a book I might not enjoy), because 99 times out of 100 it proves absolutely right. When I glanced at Age of Assassins’ synopsis I felt that vibe, and after the first chapter I knew it had guided me well once again.

The story’s background is a fascinating one – even more so because it begs for more information about it, something that I hope will be offered in the next installments of this series: the Tired Lands, as the name suggests, are a place where farming and livestock raising are extremely difficult, because the soil has been depleted by the magic wielded by sorcerers during some brutal war. In this world, the use of magic requires that power be drawn from nature itself, draining it of its life force, so that now most of the places where sorcerers fought for dominance are either barren wastes or covered in yellowish, withered grass: this makes for a brutal, unforgiving land, one where anyone suspected of using magic is killed, their blood spilled on the ground as a form of compensation for what was taken from it. Breeding livestock is just as difficult as farming, since lack of pastures make the raising of cows quite costly, and people have turned to sheep, goats and mostly pigs – the latter far too often being fed the remains of caught criminals, or unlucky enemies.

Such a ruthless landscape makes for equally ruthless people, divided into three social groups – or rather castes: the Blessed, the aristocracy of the land, those who can wield their power unchecked and do so with cruel indifference; the Living, or the equivalent of a middle class, like shopkeepers and artisans; and the Thankful, who have really very little to be thankful for, eking out a meagre existence under the heel of their “betters” and the watchful eye of the priesthood. There are however people who don’t belong to a specific caste, moving free and unseen among the populace – they are the Assassins, skilled and highly trained killers for hire, as reviled as they are sought after.

Young Girton Clubfoot is the 15-year old apprentice of master assassin Merela Karn and we meet them as they are infiltrating castle Maniyadoc on the summons of Queen Adran, sneaking in rather than passing through the main door because their kind is not welcome, even when their skills are required. Soon Girton and Merela learn of their task: finding the assassin, and his employer, whose target is Ardor the queen’s son and soon-to-be king. An assassin’s skills are such that only one of them can catch another, and Adran needs to resolve this quickly: the old king is dying (not from natural causes, which comes across as hardly surprising) and the queen has a very detailed political scheme hinging on her son’s survival and ascension to the throne. Girton and his Master will have to blend in with the castle’s population to be effective, so that Merela poses as the court’s Death Jester, and Girton is sent with the other squires in training: day after day, the two assassins discover that there is much more than meets the eye in Maniyadoc, and that conspiracies can be more convoluted than they first thought. Navigating the court’s intrigues and many dangers will prove quite difficult, and young Girton will need to balance his devotion to his Master with the first signs of adulthood and an unexpected discovery about himself that will turn his world upside down.

Many are the themes explored in Age of Assassins besides the immediate mystery at the core of the story, that acts as a thread binding it all together: there is the coming-of-age premise, of course, that is not limited to Girton alone, but involves all the castle’s squires and embraces other topics as peer pressure, cliques and the universal delight in bullying the weaker that seems to be a constant wherever young males are grouped together. Besides being the newcomer, Girton Clubfoot – as his name indicates – is a cripple, and if this has not factored in at all in his assassin training, nor made him self-conscious about it, he needs to tone down his abilities and look as non-threatening as possible, so that he has to suffer the insults and the rough handling of the other squires, who delight in finding a new target. And no one is as determined as Ardor, a loutish, cowardly brute who is aware of Girton’s identity and purpose and wastes no opportunity to assert his power, as bullies are wont to do.

Still, such bleakness is relieved by Girton’s nature, which offers a delightful counterpoint to the story’s dreary background, because for the first time in his sheltered life he’s able to give in to the need for friendship and to savor the first flutters of young love: much as Merela offered him shelter and a way to forge his path through life, she kept him somewhat apart from the rest of the world and Girton had little or no opportunities to be a teenager and to enjoy both the good and the bad that his age entails. It’s here that we discover how his training has not hardened or soured him: yes, Girton is a very efficient assassin when need be, and we can often see how his Master’s lesson have borne fruit, but at the same time he is an innocent, and still able to look at the world with the kind of wonder that only the young can attain. The best, most fascinating part of the story is indeed this, witnessing Girton opening for the first time to the real world, and enjoying the new awareness that comes from growing up. This does not mean that the core mystery is less interesting, because it leads to some daring feats and a final showdown that often left me in doubt of the outcome, but all of this plays as a background to the young man’s discoveries – both the good and the bad ones.

As a series opener, Age of Assassins works beautifully in introducing this world and it’s a revelation on many levels, not least because it’s a debut novel: rarely I have found such skill and mastery of the story in a first work, and R.J. Barker is indeed an author I will keep on my radar – especially because I look forward to learning more about Girton’s journey.