Scan barcode
nextboldmove's review against another edition
4.0
So, this book was the sequel to [b:Empress|2015492|Empress (Godspeaker Trilogy, Book 1)|Karen Miller|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1256155872s/2015492.jpg|3231480] by [a:Karen Miller|87306|Karen Miller|http://photo.goodreads.com/authors/1263471699p2/87306.jpg], which I found very surprising. The first book introduced us to Hekat, who quickly became apparent as the villain of the trilogy's arc. I kept reading, despite disliking Hekat, in the hopes that someone--anyone!--would give her what was coming to her.
The second book in the series introduces us to Hekat's foil--the Princess Rhiann--and it tickled me a little that Rhiann doesn't actually start out all that likable. I'd read this as a criticism of the book, but I think it's a deliberate ploy on the part of the author. Rhiann really does grow and change and mature as the book progresses, and if she'd started out perfect (gag) the story would be substantially less interesting.
So this book sets up what should be a fascinating confrontation between Hekat and her scorpion god (really a sacrifice-fueled demon) and Rhiann and her kinder, gentler (pseudo-Christian, probably real if somewhat absent) god. There's a lot going on here, under the surface, about religion and the nature of faith, and I'm very curious to see how it plays out in book three.
The second book in the series introduces us to Hekat's foil--the Princess Rhiann--and it tickled me a little that Rhiann doesn't actually start out all that likable. I'd read this as a criticism of the book, but I think it's a deliberate ploy on the part of the author. Rhiann really does grow and change and mature as the book progresses, and if she'd started out perfect (gag) the story would be substantially less interesting.
So this book sets up what should be a fascinating confrontation between Hekat and her scorpion god (really a sacrifice-fueled demon) and Rhiann and her kinder, gentler (pseudo-Christian, probably real if somewhat absent) god. There's a lot going on here, under the surface, about religion and the nature of faith, and I'm very curious to see how it plays out in book three.
mexican_ninjas's review against another edition
1.0
I stopped about 30 pages in. Plainly I'm disappointed and disgusted. In the first book, I had inklings about where this was headed. The 30 pages of this second book (along with a look at the epilogue of the last book, Hammer of God), confirmed my suspicions.
This trilogy fulfills the white savior complex and it has racial and religious implications where white and Christianity is better. The people of Mijak are brown and dark, "foreign savages" who own slaves and follow a god with harsh laws. They are painted as the bad guys. People in Riven are fair and follow a Christian-like god, they are painted as the victims who must defend themselves from these savages.
I bought these books when I was about 14. I'm happy I never got around to reading them when I had such an impressionable mind inside my brown head.
This trilogy fulfills the white savior complex and it has racial and religious implications where white and Christianity is better. The people of Mijak are brown and dark, "foreign savages" who own slaves and follow a god with harsh laws. They are painted as the bad guys. People in Riven are fair and follow a Christian-like god, they are painted as the victims who must defend themselves from these savages.
I bought these books when I was about 14. I'm happy I never got around to reading them when I had such an impressionable mind inside my brown head.
circus_of_damned's review against another edition
5.0
This was a second book in a trilogy that didn't suffer from middle book syndrome at all. This book start you off a little shockingly because you are throw in to a whole new country with no explanation or idea how these two books connect at first. However as you go along those connections become clear and it amazing. The frustrations in Hecate personality while still somewhat present in the female leads were more balanced out and made it a more enjoyable read. The mix and interaction of these two cultures and the setup for there main interaction was amazing.
jlsigman's review against another edition
5.0
A wondefully plotted book with characters who are exasperatingly human. I cannot wait to see how this finishes.
summer2548's review against another edition
4.0
This book wasnt as good as the first book but I still really enjoyed it.
kerveros's review against another edition
4.0
This book is a vast, vast, improvement on the first book. I can see why some other reviewers say the first book isn't necessary, that it could have been told in flashbacks or dreams, but I disagree. You need the history of Zandakar and Hekat from that to make the weight in this one more real, so you can believe and understand Zandakar when he thinks of Ethrea as being weak and easily crushed.
Yes, the main focus here is on Rhian and her fight to become the first Queen of Ethrea, but the undertones are all about Mijak. (And, to be fair, they're far more obvious than undertones so maybe I should class them as a secondary plot?). Without knowing why Zandakar acts as he does, why the destruction that Jones sees in his vision/dream is so dreadful (and lets be fair, what he sees is not the worst of Mijak) you wouldn't understand Hettie's fear, or why the King of T-somethingorother has travelled to Ethrea.
Hekat is sprinkled within this book, and I do think when you see her POV you can see how crazy she has become from that girl in Godspeeker. No longer is she trying to expand the empire for her gods sake, it is to find her son - a fearsome prospect for anyone standing in her way.
I liked the juxtaposition that the god of Mijak is some sort of devil - it means that all of the times in Godspeeker that they destroyed demons and things it was likely they were destroying the God of Ethrea. I still wonder though whose voice it was that Zandakar heard - both when he was in the blood pit and then when he was smiting that country... was it Ethrea's God? Was it planned so that Zandakar could be there to save Rhian?
This book ends on a cliffhanger, which I am more forgiving of in books that form the middle of a series. But honestly, it didn't need to. I *want* to know if Hekat and Zandakar reunite, and if Hekat can see the error of her ways (my opinion: yes and definitely not). I *want* to see how Rhian reacts to the news of the devastation that is heading her way, how she works alongside the other nations to halt the evil of Mijak. I want to see Zandakar strike his brother down (at least, I hope that is what happens!)... so yeah. Looks like I'll be looking into purchasing these on the Kindle then!
As far as the main plot goes... again, as with the first, nothing really groundbreaking.I guessed that Marlan would be abusive and was right, I guessed that Rhian would suceed with surprisingly little trouble and again I was right . Honestly, there is a reason that the bulk of this review is focussed on the subplot... it is just more interesting. Now I have to hope that the third book lives up to the set-up of this one.
Yes, the main focus here is on Rhian and her fight to become the first Queen of Ethrea, but the undertones are all about Mijak. (And, to be fair, they're far more obvious than undertones so maybe I should class them as a secondary plot?). Without knowing why Zandakar acts as he does, why the destruction that Jones sees in his vision/dream is so dreadful (and lets be fair, what he sees is not the worst of Mijak) you wouldn't understand Hettie's fear, or why the King of T-somethingorother has travelled to Ethrea.
Hekat is sprinkled within this book, and I do think when you see her POV you can see how crazy she has become from that girl in Godspeeker. No longer is she trying to expand the empire for her gods sake, it is to find her son - a fearsome prospect for anyone standing in her way.
I liked the juxtaposition that the god of Mijak is some sort of devil - it means that all of the times in Godspeeker that they destroyed demons and things it was likely they were destroying the God of Ethrea. I still wonder though whose voice it was that Zandakar heard - both when he was in the blood pit and then when he was smiting that country... was it Ethrea's God? Was it planned so that Zandakar could be there to save Rhian?
This book ends on a cliffhanger, which I am more forgiving of in books that form the middle of a series. But honestly, it didn't need to. I *want* to know if Hekat and Zandakar reunite, and if Hekat can see the error of her ways (my opinion: yes and definitely not). I *want* to see how Rhian reacts to the news of the devastation that is heading her way, how she works alongside the other nations to halt the evil of Mijak. I want to see Zandakar strike his brother down (at least, I hope that is what happens!)... so yeah. Looks like I'll be looking into purchasing these on the Kindle then!
As far as the main plot goes... again, as with the first, nothing really groundbreaking.
avethehuman's review against another edition
5.0
My favorite of the three. Zandakar returns without the annoyingly self appreciative Hekat overwhelming the narrative, and the characters of Ethrea - minus Marlan of course - are complicated and simple and easy to get caught up in. Enjoyed this one immensely.
iirenity's review against another edition
5.0
I just finished this book, and like its predecessor, I absolutely loved it. It takes the reader far from the desert kingdom of Mijak and plants us in Ethrea. We are introduced to more characters, both good and bad. We come to learn what happened to the god forsaken Zandakar. The truth of Mijak's bloody thirsty god comes to life, and we slowly learn the line of Good and Evil in this strange world that Karen Miller paints for her. An amazing continuation of a good book.
tachyondecay's review against another edition
3.0
For a while now I’ve been ruminating on the role of the medieval setting in fantasy, and more specifically the kingdom. Monarchies are (largely) obsolete these days, though Charles Stross has some interesting ideas about how the divine right of kings could intersect with extreme libertarianism. It’s interesting, then, this obsession we have with a form of government that is inherently unstable, unfair, and usually just crap. I mean, yes, it makes for good conflict, and conflict is the heart of good storytelling. Yet I can’t help but feel it’s somewhat ironic that we sit here, cheering for an heir to take back her kingdom, instead of hoping for a rebellion to take the monarchy down.
The Riven Kingdom has provoked another round of rumination, for preserving the continuity of the crown is central to the plot. Indeed, it’s practically the entire story: Rhian’s father, King Eberg, dies. With her older brothers predeceasing him, Rhian is the sole heir—but a woman has never ruled as queen in her own right, and Rhian is also a minor. So the grasping high church official, Prolate Marlan, schemes to marry her to a simpleton and rule through this new king. Rhian has other plans. Aided by Dexterity Jones, a toymaker with an unlikely name and the unlikely help of a messenger from God, Rhian escapes Marlan’s clutches, marries her childhood love, and attempts to claim the crown.
A Song of Ice and Fire this is not: there is little in the way of ambiguity here when it comes to good guys and bad guys. Whereas it’s not entirely clear who should win the Iron Throne (go Team Daenerys, woo!), Karen Miller makes it plan that Rhian is the only person for the job and that Marlan is bad, bad, bad. In fact, he’s so stereotypically evil-beyond-redemption that it’s almost embarrassing. Fortunately, the rest of the book is steeped in enough moral exploration to make up for this fault.
Rhian begins the story as an intelligent but still emotionally immature woman. Understandably upset by her father’s lingering death, she snaps at those close to her. This tendency to snap doesn’t actually go away, unfortunately, and I found myself frustrated by how she would seem to yell and stamp any time someone so much as raises an alternative perspective. But I don’t mean to imply that she is the picture of the spoiled princess: far from it; Rhian is a capable successor to her father who merely lacks the experience that age often brings. It’s watching her acquire more experience and more confidence in herself as a ruler during her trials on the road that make this book so enjoyable. Rhian learns from those in her company and gradually begins to construct her own personal code for what it means to be the queen.
A similar change comes over Dexterity, who gets the ball rolling when he persuades Rhian to run away from the capital and declare herself queen openly. His motivation is supernatural, coming to him in the form of his dead wife, Hettie. At first, Dexterity is a bit of a Fool: humorous, carefree, and irreverent, he’s happy to trade quips and roll his eyes beyond someone’s back. Gradually he becomes more serious, more focused, as the significance of his role in these events becomes apparent. And, of course, he has to adjust to being a prophet who can heal people through miracles. Because being on fire but not consumed by it is totally not weird at all.
Perhaps the character who surprised me most was Helfred, Rhian’s personal chaplain. He begins as a stock thorn in Rhian’s side, a creature of Marlan, who is his uncle. He whines and sniffles in that unctuous way of unsavoury priests in fiction. Yet he stands up to Rhian, falls in with her, and ends up taking great risks. Unlike his uncle, he shows himself to be a genuine man of faith. And of all the characters, he is probably the one who changes the most dramatically. If there’s anyone who demonstrates Miller’s careful attention to character development, it’s Helfred.
Unless it’s Zandakar, of course.
This is the second book in the Godspeaker trilogy. I read the first book recently enough that my memory of it is still quite clear. I was intrigued but not captivated by it. It was just quite different, which can be good but also unsettling. The Riven Kingdom is much more conventional in narration and dialogue. I wonder what it would be like to read this book first and then tackle Empress, for the latter doesn’t really encourage one to continue reading the series. Of course, this approach comes at the cost of not realizing Zandakar’s significance or the backstory within the Mijak interludes of the book.
Zandakar is no longer the proud warrior he was in Empress. Beaten and broken, sold into slavery, he is rescued by Dexterity and nursed back to health. He feels guilty for his role in killing and enslaving literally countries’ worth of people. And this is a secret he can’t share, except with Dexterity. I like how Miller realistically portrays the slow, awkward development of communication between Zandakar and Dexterity. There’s no magical translation spell, no convenient crutch that allows one to speak the other’s language through anything other than patience and practice. As Zandakar becomes more fluent in Ethrean we are treated to more of his viewpoint and get to see how much he has changed since the events of the first book.
Zandakar exists as a foil for Rhian, the gentle queen. He teaches her his hotas, the exercises that help hone his focus and skills as a warrior, at her request. She develops the ability to kill by instinct, demonstrating this starkly at a pivotal moment in the book. Rhian realizes that she cannot and will not shed blood of her own accord. Zandakar accuses her of not wanting or willing to be queen. For him, ruling and killing go hand in hand. Rhian rejects this emphatically, thereby establishing one of the pillars of her personal code of ruling. But she wouldn’t have done this without Zandakar’s guidance and training.
Moreover, Zandakar is a symbol for what awaits Ethrea when the Mijak warhost arrives. Beyond the immediate story of Rhian’s accession lies the impending arrival of the horde that is pouring out of Mijak. I assume this will come to a head in the third book. Those closest to Zandakar, those like Rhian who have seen him kill to defend them, understand how terrifying he is. Now multiply that by the thousands … it beggars belief. Ethrea is not in for good times.
The Riven Kingdom is definitely a cut above Empress. If you managed to get through the first book but, like me, were hesitant to carry on, I’d say you should give it a try. And even if you gave Empress a pass, it might be worth giving this book shot. As far as fantasy books go, there is very little in the way of new ideas here. As I remarked earlier, it is essentially the basic inheritance conflict plot. But it’s competently executed, with characters who undergo some subtle change and development along the way. Sometimes, that’s sufficient for an enjoyable little book.
My reviews of the Godspeaker trilogy:
← Empress | Hammer of God →
The Riven Kingdom has provoked another round of rumination, for preserving the continuity of the crown is central to the plot. Indeed, it’s practically the entire story: Rhian’s father, King Eberg, dies. With her older brothers predeceasing him, Rhian is the sole heir—but a woman has never ruled as queen in her own right, and Rhian is also a minor. So the grasping high church official, Prolate Marlan, schemes to marry her to a simpleton and rule through this new king. Rhian has other plans. Aided by Dexterity Jones, a toymaker with an unlikely name and the unlikely help of a messenger from God, Rhian escapes Marlan’s clutches, marries her childhood love, and attempts to claim the crown.
A Song of Ice and Fire this is not: there is little in the way of ambiguity here when it comes to good guys and bad guys. Whereas it’s not entirely clear who should win the Iron Throne (go Team Daenerys, woo!), Karen Miller makes it plan that Rhian is the only person for the job and that Marlan is bad, bad, bad. In fact, he’s so stereotypically evil-beyond-redemption that it’s almost embarrassing. Fortunately, the rest of the book is steeped in enough moral exploration to make up for this fault.
Rhian begins the story as an intelligent but still emotionally immature woman. Understandably upset by her father’s lingering death, she snaps at those close to her. This tendency to snap doesn’t actually go away, unfortunately, and I found myself frustrated by how she would seem to yell and stamp any time someone so much as raises an alternative perspective. But I don’t mean to imply that she is the picture of the spoiled princess: far from it; Rhian is a capable successor to her father who merely lacks the experience that age often brings. It’s watching her acquire more experience and more confidence in herself as a ruler during her trials on the road that make this book so enjoyable. Rhian learns from those in her company and gradually begins to construct her own personal code for what it means to be the queen.
A similar change comes over Dexterity, who gets the ball rolling when he persuades Rhian to run away from the capital and declare herself queen openly. His motivation is supernatural, coming to him in the form of his dead wife, Hettie. At first, Dexterity is a bit of a Fool: humorous, carefree, and irreverent, he’s happy to trade quips and roll his eyes beyond someone’s back. Gradually he becomes more serious, more focused, as the significance of his role in these events becomes apparent. And, of course, he has to adjust to being a prophet who can heal people through miracles. Because being on fire but not consumed by it is totally not weird at all.
Perhaps the character who surprised me most was Helfred, Rhian’s personal chaplain. He begins as a stock thorn in Rhian’s side, a creature of Marlan, who is his uncle. He whines and sniffles in that unctuous way of unsavoury priests in fiction. Yet he stands up to Rhian, falls in with her, and ends up taking great risks. Unlike his uncle, he shows himself to be a genuine man of faith. And of all the characters, he is probably the one who changes the most dramatically. If there’s anyone who demonstrates Miller’s careful attention to character development, it’s Helfred.
Unless it’s Zandakar, of course.
This is the second book in the Godspeaker trilogy. I read the first book recently enough that my memory of it is still quite clear. I was intrigued but not captivated by it. It was just quite different, which can be good but also unsettling. The Riven Kingdom is much more conventional in narration and dialogue. I wonder what it would be like to read this book first and then tackle Empress, for the latter doesn’t really encourage one to continue reading the series. Of course, this approach comes at the cost of not realizing Zandakar’s significance or the backstory within the Mijak interludes of the book.
Zandakar is no longer the proud warrior he was in Empress. Beaten and broken, sold into slavery, he is rescued by Dexterity and nursed back to health. He feels guilty for his role in killing and enslaving literally countries’ worth of people. And this is a secret he can’t share, except with Dexterity. I like how Miller realistically portrays the slow, awkward development of communication between Zandakar and Dexterity. There’s no magical translation spell, no convenient crutch that allows one to speak the other’s language through anything other than patience and practice. As Zandakar becomes more fluent in Ethrean we are treated to more of his viewpoint and get to see how much he has changed since the events of the first book.
Zandakar exists as a foil for Rhian, the gentle queen. He teaches her his hotas, the exercises that help hone his focus and skills as a warrior, at her request. She develops the ability to kill by instinct, demonstrating this starkly at a pivotal moment in the book. Rhian realizes that she cannot and will not shed blood of her own accord. Zandakar accuses her of not wanting or willing to be queen. For him, ruling and killing go hand in hand. Rhian rejects this emphatically, thereby establishing one of the pillars of her personal code of ruling. But she wouldn’t have done this without Zandakar’s guidance and training.
Moreover, Zandakar is a symbol for what awaits Ethrea when the Mijak warhost arrives. Beyond the immediate story of Rhian’s accession lies the impending arrival of the horde that is pouring out of Mijak. I assume this will come to a head in the third book. Those closest to Zandakar, those like Rhian who have seen him kill to defend them, understand how terrifying he is. Now multiply that by the thousands … it beggars belief. Ethrea is not in for good times.
The Riven Kingdom is definitely a cut above Empress. If you managed to get through the first book but, like me, were hesitant to carry on, I’d say you should give it a try. And even if you gave Empress a pass, it might be worth giving this book shot. As far as fantasy books go, there is very little in the way of new ideas here. As I remarked earlier, it is essentially the basic inheritance conflict plot. But it’s competently executed, with characters who undergo some subtle change and development along the way. Sometimes, that’s sufficient for an enjoyable little book.
My reviews of the Godspeaker trilogy:
← Empress | Hammer of God →