Plot: 10 (engrossing and constantly shifting)
Characters: 10 (complex and memorable)
Accuracy: 9 (some simplification of events but accurate mental landscapes)
I really did love this book. A tale of crusaders, Templars no less, and the last days of the Kingdom of Jerusalem, that doesn't insert a lot of modern day notions into it. These are two warrior civilizations absolutely drunk on God, and with no conflicting notions of secular humanism to provide them with identity and self-worth outside religion. Tolerance was not a virtue but a sin. It was always going to be bloody. And yet, thanks to her fine storytelling, you can see what made it so appealing. Frustrating as it may be, religion had such a hold on every aspect of life in medieval Europe that the only outlet for idealism was through God and the Church. If you were someone who wanted to better the world, you didn't join a protest group or a political campaign, you joined the church and became a monk. Or donated funds to them to give alms for the poor. The Knights Templar (at this stage) were idealists. Fanatics, but idealists. A Crusade was the ultimate opportunity to give your life for a higher calling. Indeed, the only people in the book who aren't fanatics are amoral scumbags. There was no alternative to Christ.
The lead character, Rannulf, is by most definitions a fanatic. He follows strictly his vows, cares for nothing but the war, and is curt to the point of arrogance. Yet there's a kind of redemptive quality in his obsession. He was quite the bastard before he joined the order, a rapist and a murderer a hundred times over. And then he found God and dedicated his life to atoning for his sins. Again, the Middle Ages didn't have a 'just be nice to people and try and give back to the community in a meaningful way' option. If your soul was in peril you turned to the church. Anything else was doing less than nothing. And for a man of action with drive and no patience for talking the Knights Templar were perfect. As a former villain he has a lot of questions for God, and as another character points out he's simply abandoned all free will in favor of strict obedience to his vows. His relation to the outside world is... complicated.
Rannulf's a great character, but there are lots of other great characters as well. Stephen's a personal favorite. A gay man stuck figuring out how he fits in as a new recruit and where his duty ends. And he's in love with one of the sultan's nephews no less. Oy! I loved Holland's depiction of what it meant being gay in the middle ages. It wasn't actually quite as hard as people might think. Sodomy was certainly a sin, but it wasn't one of the big ones the way it's become now. Generally, screaming maniacs raging against it are only found when it starts to become socially accepted. Most people in the novel upon finding out are either openly indifferent or no more than mildly outraged. The advantage of having everything be a sin, I suppose, is that a practicing homosexual was not really worse than an adulterer. At any rate, it's still difficult for Stephen (though there's a nice loophole that Templar vows only forbid intercourse with women), but the novel never starts to turn him into a stock gay man or take away any of his manliness. He's a Knight Templar and he's good at it. And he's gay. There's not really a contradiction.
Baldwin's (I prefer the anglicized name) another great character. The famous leper king of the Holy Land who despite all his disadvantages managed to rule well for all his short life. He comes across as an able king, and a noble and tragic young man. Though I'm not sure his symptoms should be quite so pronounced when we first meet him. The decade or so that the book covers seems a lot shorter in story terms. His sister Sibylla's another interesting one. Unlike Baldwin who's usually treated pretty well (see his turn as a saint-king in Kingdom of Heaven) his sister's open to a lot of different interpretations. She can be portrayed as an airheaded bimbo in thrall to her equally vacuous pretty-boy husband, a shortsighted schemer, a noble yet cornered prisoner, a malicious but failed power player, etc. Failure has many sons but success is sterile. This Sibylla seems like a combination of all these, and it's hard to get a sense of who she is. She's hopelessly idealistic (a lasting peace with the Saracens was never an open possibility while Christians held Jerusalem) but also quite pragmatic in key areas (such as marriage to a simpleton who won't get in her way) and cunning in others (her work at figuring out the proper things for royalty to say). And tragically, her efforts to be more assertive and rule all come about from watching her brother and his success against all odds. She knows she's right, because he knew he was right, and that gets difficult when she's not as aware of the way the world works as he was.
Other minor characters stand out too. Gerald de Rideford is a particularly nasty example, as is Reynald de Châtillon. Gerald's basically the main villain; the Templar officer Rannulf often has to obey but who wants him dead and is more in love with power than possessed of the sense to wield it. Reynald's just a mad lord (with a beautiful castle I can heartily recommend visiting). The other famous crusader lords are there as well: Raymond of Tripoli, Joscelin de Courtenay, Balian of Ibelin, etc. All have distinct if not overly developed personalities. I must confess, I have a tendency to visualize these guys as the actors who played them in Kingdom of Heaven. Brendan Gleeson's Reynald fits remarkably well with the character here, but for the rest it's a bit of a rough match. Though I did nod in agreement when Sibylla commented on Balian of Ibelin's fine ass. Yes, I can definitely envision Orlando Bloom there.
Not to say that all the characters were perfect. I disliked a few of them. Saladin most strikingly (and most surprisingly). It makes sense that with Templar leads the characters would take a dim view of the sultan, but his POV scenes present him too as just yet another bigoted fanatic. And I use that term here (in a book of fanatics) to mean a man who refuses to recognize worth or value in a man simply because of his religion. Which is very odd to me. Holland's Saladin is a useful corrective, admittedly, to those overly hagiographical depictions of him in vogue these days (the man was ruthless in his pursuit of power and could be breathtakingly cruel to those he despised), but this is still the man who managed to win the respect of countless Christian historians and balladists for his chivalry, despite what should have been the unbridgeable obstacle of his demon worship (as they saw it). Again, part of this is POV (the Templars were his most hated foes and could expect no quarter), but a scene near the end where he expresses nothing but disdain for his Christian opponents just seemed too much. This is a man who set an abnormally low ransom for the residents of beaten Jerusalem and then took great delight in releasing many further inhabitants without ransom anyway. Who commanded his catapults to avoid the sleeping quarters of a newly married couple in the castle he was besieging. This was a man who delighted in exaggerated displays of generosity, even to his Christian opponents. You don't have to cover up his willingness to be cruel to display that. If this had been a revisionist view I'd understand, but it's really more like ignoring his general depiction entirely in favor of a fairly dull oriental despot. A disappointing and wasted opportunity, even if he has to remain fairly peripheral for the plot.
The interesting thing for me is how you start off the novel disliking these characters. I've found that generally first impressions in a story tend to stick since novelists want to get across who these people are as quickly as possible and therefore introduce them at their most themselves. Rare indeed is the novel that starts a POV character off as an asshole but then slowly turns you to their side (as opposed to having a redemption arc that you can feel brewing from page one). Rannulf is introduced as an arrogant ass, and he remains an arrogant ass throughout. But he's still a likeable one with some idealized notions at heart and a desire to be a better man. Stephen comes across as a pompous noble who thinks he's too good for everything, but he comes around and adapts well. Indeed, I wonder if some of the characters I disliked (Saladin in particular) might have grown on me if we'd spent more time on them. Alas.
Point is: an excellent novel. It really puts you in the middle of the world and lets you experience it as they would have done. A++