I remember the Kings. The wind of their passage was always hot, almost too hot to breathe, as if their wings were made of stolen sun.
There used to be dragons here, huge beasts who ruled the skies and terrorized the people, but they are long gone. Only some distant cousins survive, puny creatures mostly that are treated like vermin, hunted down in fields and castle walls, their precious pelts sold for a lot of money at the Dragon Market.
But are the old Kings making a comeback? A mountain village is destroyed by a terrible force coming like an avalanche of smoke and pestilence down the slopes, despite the desperate efforts of the local witches.
“The World has turned noisily in its sleep, like some babe disturbed in the cradle, fussing and crying until it forgets the dreams that troubled it. The Kings do not come now to harm us in their vast indifference. Something else is loosed, something that stinks of magic.”
This is a terrible start to what will ultimately prove to be one of the best offers from this cherished author in a long time: tightly plotted, great characters, epic scope and a lot of his signature gentle humour, beautiful prose and heartache.
After the grim prologue we move into the region of romance with a fantasy setting, not unlike version 2.0 of ‘The Princess Bride’. King Antoine and his Queen Helene live a pleasant, mostly uncomplicated life in their tiny kingdom of Bellemontagne. Their biggest headache is the long queue of suitors [please take a number!] for the hand of their beautiful princess Cerise, an infestation of princes boasting of riches and manly deeds in an effort to impress the girl.
It’s an uphill struggle for the hand of a young woman who knows her own mind quite well, thank you, and who likes to hide in the woods and teach herself how to read instead of swooning over her supposed spouse.
He was tall, handsome, sincere, broad-shouldered, slim-waisted, well turned out, and possessed of precisely the brains of a rutabaga; sadly, his cheekbones were the sharpest thing about him.
The current crop of valiant princes isn’t making her choice any easier.
Time for Crown Prince Reginald of Corvinia, the biggest, richest and the boldest realm around, to make an entrance...
Time for Princess Cerise to start making plans for her wedding party.
And time for an urgent clean-up of the ramshackle family Castle of Bellemontagne, for every sort of nameless vermin squeaked and creaked and rustled along the walls, or else inside them.
Time to call up the exterminator.
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Meet Gaius Aurelius Constantine Heliogabalus Thrax, the expert of the kingdom in dragon removal. Actually, the only one in the business of ridding noble houses of their intolerable pestiferous infestations according to the promo speech from his mother.
But please, call him Robert. Only his mother, when she is annoyed, calls him by his full name.
Robert has inherited the business from his father, while his brothers tend the family farm and his sisters are still in school. He is helped along by Ostvald, a gentle giant who most neighbours believe is slow witted. And he is teased and chased by the lively Elfrieda, the village prettiest wench.
Robert also hides a secret passion for the beasts he is supposed to destroy: he actually likes the little dragons and it hurts him terribly to have to kill them. He keeps four of them as pets, hidden in the house and listening only to Robert when they become unruly or are being ordered to do their chores. And truly, some of the ones he comes across are beautiful to behold:
Serpens avramis Karchee : the karchee were like nothing else in the market: all rainbows from one angle, shimmering like the sky after a storm; and a deep blue-green from another, as though they were wrapped, head to tail tip, in the sea.
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Meanwhile, in castle Bellemontagne, Princess Cerise and Crown Prince Reginald seem to be at cross purposes: she is thrilling and he is clueless, relying in general on his valet and minder Mortmain to tell him what to do.
The dynamic between master and servant can be traced back to the powerful king of Corvinia, who despises his weak son and has sent him adventuring to prove his mettle or get lost in trying.
“Actually, I’m just wandering, you know. Needed to go away for a bit – see something of the world, have an adventure or two. That sort of thing. Serious business, adventuring.”
I liked Cerise the most of all these players in the unfolding romance / adventure. I liked her spirit, her independence, her enthusiasm for learning. Later in the story, I loved her for her courage, for her sense of fairness, and for her willingness to change once she is shown to have erred.
Upended. That was the word: Cerise felt upended. Also uprooted, in an uproar, put upon, barely upright, and caught utterly in upheaval. Her emotions splashed through her treasured words in her head the same way she had splashed through puddles as a child, with the same gleefully muddy results.
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To make a long story shorter, and to avoid spoilers, lets just say that the company – Cerise, Reginald, Mortmain, Robert as the dragon specialist and a troop of castle guards and suitor princes – will go on a quest to hunt a dangerous beast that is reported to roam the kingdom’s forests. It is also hoped the quest will prove Reginald is worthy of asking for the hand of Cerise in marriage and convince his own father he is no weakling.
The quest ends badly, to put it mildly, when instead of a single beast they came across a trio of big feral dragons that maul the party in a matter of seconds. Only Robert’s intervention saves the day, revealing another of his secret talents, one he wanted to deny even in his own heart:
“Dragons talk to me, Princess, they always have. It’s just taken me a long time to learn to listen.”
His acts of courage get praised, but Robert sees clearly the dangers of such powers and of such adulation:
“I don’t want to be a hero. Heroes kill things. I want to be ordinary – never mind Vardis, never mind my mother. I just want to have an ordinary life.”
This has always been Peter S Beagle’s strong selling point for me: he tells the stories of ordinary people caught in extraordinary circumstances without losing their humanity, their modesty and their joy in living.
At the risk of another minor plot spoiler, I would like to include here the funniest scene in the whole book, the obligatory confrontation between hobbits and Sauron, the little heroes against the evil mastermind that has unleashed destruction on the world for his own dastardly ambition.
In this version, Robert and Reginald and Cerise must confront Dahr, an undead wizard who has a bone to pick with the king of Corvinia.
Peter Beagle is so well familiarized with the genre expectations that he is allowed to subvert them:
“My own opinion,” Robert said tightly, “is that you have fiendishly set out to bore us to death. It’s working.”
“Have mercy!” Prince Reginald chimed in. “Whatever you do to us, great wizard, we beg you – stop talking, and just get it over with. In a heroic lifetime devoted to slaughtering villains, I have never encountered one who chattered so!”
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A five star rating is not really a surprise for a fan boy like me. I plan to read everything Peter S Beagle has written or will write next.
This story feels like a one-shot, stand-alone adventure. Still I hope the author likes Cerise and Robert, Reginald and Mortmain, Ostvald and Elfrieda well enough to tell us more of their adventures in the future.