Raymond Feist, King of Foxes (Eos, 2004)
For he was ready to embark upon the most difficult and dangerous portion of his personal mission to avenge his people: he had to find a way to destroy Duke Kaspar of Olasko, the man ultimately responsible for the obliteration of the Orosini nation. And Duke Kaspar happened to be the most dangerous man in the world, according to many sources.
When I reviewed Talon Of The Silver Hawk, the first novel in this series, I was surprised to find myself disappointed. But, having enjoyed the author's work in the past, it was with renewed enthusiasm that I asked to try this second volume.
This story begins with the hero as a fully formed character, and a plot which continues right where the last one ended; there's none of the tedium that marred the first installment. The central character, Tal Hawkins, is now almost totally submerged beneath his constructed persona. This is something like a combination of the Flashing Blade and Jimmy the Hand, with a dash of Valentino. Old favourite characters are referred to, and some make cameo appearances, but this is very much a story centred on one man. The disadvantage here is that the reader knows the character is indispensable. In previous Feist epics, a great strength was the sense that any one of the ensemble cast might be sacrificed. When compared to his earlier works, there is less grandeur, a far less twisty plot, and above all, less magic. Rarely in King of Foxes do the characters either practise or encounter it. Similarly noticeable by their absence are the magical characters and creatures which have become a staple of Feist novels. Some readers may find this a welcome change and happily go with the flow, while others may feel, as I did, that this is Raymond E. Feist attempting to write someone else's style of book. The point is hammered home when old favourites such as Nakor and Pug do turn up, with electrifying effect.
He wondered how Caleb was doing. And the others, Robert de Lysis, Pasko, Magnus, Pug and Miranda, everyone who had taken a near-dead boy from the Orosini Mountains and turned him into what he was today, Baron of the Court Talwin Hawkins, anointed World's Geatest Swordsman, culinary and wine aficionado, musician, painter, linguist, dancer, and dandy.
The Conclave of Shadows, ostensibly the movers and shakers behind everything Tal Hawkins is and does, remain largely in the background. Their agenda is vague and their ultimate aims clouded by the premise that the Conclave knows best. Agents and readers are asked to assume that it has good reasons for the lives it twists, and any awkward questions are sidestepped. Unfortunately, this approach encourages little sympathy, possibly because most of us know full well that blind faith in leaders, or in anything, is not a good plan. There are also plot elements which don't make sense: for example, the rather poor plot device of having Tal placed in a bad position for some considerable period of time, well away from the action, when there are at least four high powered teleporting Conclave members who could've staged an instant rescue. More than once, I found myself looking for a reason to believe, when I'd expected to be amazed.
In conclusion, King of Foxes lacks the credibility, complexity and extra bounce per ounce which the author has previously delivered. But it is a big improvement on its predecessor, and even though the ending screamed franchise extension, I want to know what happens next. Hopefully, it will be something with the depth and dynamism that permeates the author's classics.
