Genre: Historical fiction
Series: Benjamin Weaver #4
Page Count: 369
Publication Year: 2014
Publisher: Random House
Summary: The Spanish Inquisition never expected him.
I had my doubts going into this because while it is still a part of the Benjamin Weaver series, it now follows his apprentice, Sebastian. Any time a series switches perspectives there is a big chance that the enjoyment goes out the window.
That is not the case here. I’ve praised these books from the start and this one has rounded off my goodwill.
Fellow readers, allow me to present to you one of my all-time favorite series.
*cue the excited squealing*
How does one sum up the joy, excitement and warm cuddly feelings created by mere words? I don’t know, so let’s just get started.
As a child, Sebastian gets shipped to London after losing his parents to the Spanish Inquisition. Entering into a tutelage with Benjamin Weaver, he grows up and one day decides to find the people who took everything from him. He travels to Lisbon under the guise of an English gentleman to reforge friendships and make new acquaintances to help him succeed.
Revenge books don’t cross my path often, which is strange, because it’s such a common trope. Maybe it’s just as well, since it’ll be tough to top this. Unlike the previous books in the series, I had minimal trouble keeping up with the plot. The machinations and double-crossings are straightforward and kept in check by a fairly small set of characters. The revenge part plays out in probably the best way available for such a task and all of Sebastian’s other duties weave nicely into it. It’s simple in its complexities and thoroughly engaging.
Taking Weaver’s place as protagonist is Sebastian Foxx. A new lead in an established series is risky, but Sebastian reminds me of Weaver in many ways. They’re both fighters and devoted to getting things done. Whereas Weaver has a softer side and an evener temper, Sebastian is quick to violence and driven by his troubled past.
I don’t like reckless, selfish, and easily angered characters. There’s too much room for them to make stupid choices and I hate reading about thoughtless people. What sets Sebastian apart from that well-tread path is that he has fighting skills to aid in his escape, training for dealing with devious people, the willpower to stop his actions, a desire to help others, and no one whose life will be ruined by his untimely demise. This makes it possible for him to charge into dangerous situations with little fear of consequences.
I was now in danger, and I welcomed it.
No doubt he expected groveling and obeisance. I should now genuflect, make certain his wine was sufficiently full. Perhaps he would like some bread and cheese. Might I call for some cold meat?
Let him menace another man if he wanted that. The only courtesy I would show him was forbearance from breaking his neck.
I waited until I believed I could step out upon the street without knocking down the first person whose looks I misliked.
I did not know precisely what I would do, but I knew a large number of men were going to die, and if all went well, I would not be one of them.
He also shares Weaver’s sharp, unique, understated humor. It might be a little dark and edgy for some, but I love it.
The option of stealing from Jesuits was certainly not to be eliminated. In fact, it was to be embraced.
“I’ll be damned for a Frenchman before I resent a man for a good-natured quip,” I said. “But let it not cut to the bone, or then we shall have a disagreement.”
[He] was silent for a long time. Would it hurry him along to let him know that I needed his money so I could kill the man who wanted to cast him in chains? Somehow, I thought it would not.
The woman behind me jumped up. “Something bit me! The Jews called upon the devil to send a creature to bite me.”
I stood up and faced her. “That would be rather indirect, would it not?” I asked her in Portuguese. “If I wanted you bit, I would do it myself and circumvent the intermediaries. Though now that I look upon you, I think it would indeed be preferable to conjure a devil for the task.”
“If you attack me with a knife, I may be forced to handle you more roughly than I should like, but if you only try to block my path, I believe walking around you will prove sufficient.”
Weaver makes some appearances and his advice is sprinkled throughout. I would’ve liked to see more of Sebastian’s training and him working with his mentor, but I guess it would’ve taken focus away from the revenge. Still, I’m always ready for more Weaver.
Mr. Weaver held up a hand, and I understood that it would take considerable courage to disregard the implied threat.
Mr. Weaver always said that in all matters but friendship and love, never to trust anyone who was too agreeable.
The rest of the cast is pretty conventional and it doesn’t bother me. The last book I read also had character types I expected to see but in this book they have more depth and personal interactions with Sebastian. They could’ve been better—which is true for most characters—but it is written in first-person, so not seeing beyond the base traits of other people is fine and more realistic.
I love Liss’ prose. The description, the dialogue and overall feel are some of the best I’ve come across in recent memory. Read this:
I had seen all this and worse in London, but here the destitute and desperate were more plentiful and more pitiful, the meat of the city’s stew rather than the swirling grease.
Isn’t that sentence amazing? That analogy is unexpected but the image created is singular. I need to read the rest of this author’s stuff because this is what a great reading experience looks like to me.
A man might live in London all his life, might upon a daily basis risk encounters with cutpurses and toughs, renegados who would slit a stranger’s throat for no reason but the thrill of murder, and for all that never cross paths with anyone as dangerous as a Portuguese priest. Here was the real devil.
The inn was at the intersection of two unmarked streets, sitting astride the hill so the ramshackle wooden building looked as though it might, at any moment, give way and topple face forward into the street like a drunkard. And inside, the common room was full of sots who appeared as though they might, at any moment, topple face forward onto the floor.
With a lazy wave of his hand, Franklin led me through the common room and toward a dark staircase so steep it seemed designed specifically to encourage drunk men to fall to their deaths.
So here we are, at the end of this fantastic series. I’ve had the best time reading these books and I can’t wait to return to them. Would that all historical fiction could be this good.
I wondered if I might be stepping into a trap, though traps did not frighten me overmuch. Traps were set by men. Men could always be made to talk.
The beginning of my Weaver journey.
Check out my rating here.