Andrzej Sapkowski, the author of The Witcher series, is sitting pretty these days. His fantasy books have been turned not only into a series of successful video games, but also a very popular Netflix show. AND he resolved the legal dispute he had with the makers of those games. Everything’s coming up Sapkowski!
And now, Orbit Books and Gollancz are publishing The Tower of Fools, the first book in Sapkowski’s Hussite trilogy. This is a historical fiction series set in 15th-century Silesia — a historical region of Central Europe located mostly in modern-day Poland — during the religious Hussite Wars. The trilogy tells the story of Reinmar of Bielawa (or Reynevan), who flees town after being caught sleeping with a knight’s wife and holes up in a Narrenturm, a medieval asylum that hosts both people suffering from rare diseases and those who don’t conform to the oppressive status quo. Apparently polymath Nicolaus Copernicus is a patient.
Gizmodo has a look at the cover for the U.S. version of the book, which was translated by David French:
Image: Orbit Books
They have an excerpt as well. If you read the whole thing, be forewarned: it’s contains some sexual violence. Here’s an excerpt of the excerpt below. This is a horse chase that goes down after Reynevan is discovered sleeping with Adèle, the knight’s wife. He’s riding like hell to escape Adèle’s brothers, who are bent on revenge:
"Reynevan’s first thought was to head towards Saint Mary’s Gate and out of the town into the woods, but the stretch of Cattle Street leading to the gate was totally crammed with wagons. Furthermore, the horse, urged on and frightened by the cries of an unfamiliar rider, was showing great individual initiative, so before he knew it, Reynevan was hurtling along at a gallop towards the town square, splashing mud and scattering passers-by. He didn’t have to look back to know the others were hot on his heels given the thudding of hooves, the neighing of horses, the angry roaring of the Sterczas and the furious yelling of people being jostled.He jabbed the horse to a full gallop with his heels, hitting and knocking over a baker carrying a basket. A shower of loaves and pastries flew into the mud, soon to be trodden beneath the hooves of the Sterczas’ horses. Reynevan didn’t even look back, more concerned with what was ahead of him than behind. A cart piled high with faggots of brushwood loomed up before his eyes. The cart was blocking almost the entire street, the rest of which was occupied by a group of half-clothed urchins, kneeling down and busily digging something extremely engrossing out of the muck.‘We have you, Bielawa!’ thundered Wolfher from behind, also seeing the obstruction.Reynevan’s horse was racing so swiftly there was no chance of stopping it. He pressed himself against its mane and closed his eyes. As a result, he didn’t see the half-naked children scatter with the speed and grace of rats. He didn’t look back, so nor did he see a peasant in a sheepskin jerkin turn around, somewhat stupefied, as he hauled a cart into the road. Nor did he see the Sterczas riding broadside into the cart. Nor Jentsch of Knobelsdorf soaring from the saddle and sweeping half of the faggots from the cart with his body.Reynevan galloped down Saint John’s Street, between the town hall and the burgermeister’s house, hurtling at full speed into Oleśnica’s huge and crowded town square. Pandemonium erupted. Aiming for the southern frontage and the squat, square tower of the Oława Gate visible above it, Reynevan galloped through the crowds, leaving havoc behind him. Townsfolk yelled and pigs squealed, as overturned stalls and benches showered a hail of household goods and foodstuffs of every kind in all directions. Clouds of feathers flew everywhere as the Sterczas – hot on Reynevan’s heels – added to the destruction.Reynevan’s horse, frightened by a goose flying past its nose, recoiled and hurtled into a fish stall, shattering crates and bursting open barrels. The enraged fishmonger made a great swipe with a keep net, missing Reynevan but striking the horse’s rump. The horse whinnied and slewed sideways, upending a stall selling thread and ribbons, and only a miracle prevented Reynevan from falling. Out of the corner of one eye, he saw the stallholder running after him brandishing a huge cleaver (serving God only knew what purpose in the haberdashery trade). Spitting out some goose feathers stuck to his lips, he brought the horse under control and galloped through the shambles, knowing that the Oława Gate was very close.‘I’ll tear your balls off, Bielawa!’ Wolfher of Stercza roared from behind. ‘I’ll tear them off and stuff them down your throat!’‘Kiss my arse!’Only four men were chasing him now – Rotkirch had been pulled from his horse and was being roughed up by some infuriated market traders.Reynevan darted like an arrow down an avenue of animal carcasses suspended by their legs. Most of the butchers leaped back in alarm, but one carrying a large haunch of beef on one shoulder tumbled under the hooves of Wittich’s horse, which took fright, reared up and was ploughed into by Wolfher’s horse. Wittich flew from the saddle straight onto the meat stall, nose-first into livers, lights and kidneys, and was then landed on by Wolfher. His foot was caught in the stirrup and before he could free himself, he had destroyed a large number of stalls and covered himself in mud and blood.At the last moment, Reynevan quickly lowered his head over the horse’s neck to duck under a wooden sign with a piglet’s head painted on it. Dieter Haxt, who was bearing down on him, wasn’t quick enough and the cheerfully grinning piglet slammed into his forehead. Dieter flew from the saddle and crashed into a pile of refuse, frightening some cats. Reynevan turned around. Now only Nicolaus of Stercza was keeping up with him.Reynevan shot out of the chaos at a full gallop and into a small square where some tanners were working. As a frame hung with wet hides loomed up before him, he urged his horse to jump. It did. And Reynevan didn’t fall off. Another miracle.Nicolaus wasn’t as lucky. His horse skidded to a halt in front of the frame and collided with it, slipping on the mud and scraps of meat and fat. The youngest Stercza shot over his horse’s head, with very unfortunate results. He flew belly-first right onto a scythe used for scraping leather which the tanners had left propped up against the frame."
Ooh, I don’t like that guy’s chances.
I think that’s a pretty well-written medieval chase scene, and it’s definitely written in Sapkowski’s familiar, somewhat irreverent voice. If you’re interested in historical fiction, this might be worth checking out.
The Tower of Fools is out on October 27, but you can pre-order a copy here for the U.S. and here for the UK.
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