As a Roman fiction author who detoured into the world of Fantasy myself, and a long-term reader and lover of both Historical fiction and Fantasy, I am always on the lookout for those authors who do the same. If a writer is good in either of those genres, there is a good chance they will hit the sweet spot in the other too. I am, for instance, waiting for Angus Donald’s foray into a Chinese-style fantasy, so much did I love his Outlaw books. And then there’s Nick Brown.

It doesn’t take much to discover how much I value Nick’s writing. Just scroll down my reviews at the side and you’ll find my high opinion of all his Agent of Rome books. I was sad to see that he was no longer working on Corbulo’s tales, but upon talking to him, was also intrigued and fascinated to learn that he too was working on a fantasy novel. In fact, in terms of disclosure, Nick and I have become friends, and thus I will admit that I managed to read a copy of Marik’s Way long before release. Rest assured that I retain objectivity, even when I gush. Nick’s writing has formed some of my absolute favourite Roman books of recent years.

Marik’s Way is the start of a new adventure for Nick Brown. I believe it to be the beginning of a series of novels, rather than a one off, which sits well with me, as I’d hate to know that there would be no more. The novel is, in short, as classy as any of his Roman work. What, for me, it loses in lacking the deep world of Roman history and my love thereof, it gains in granting the author the freedom to become truly creative. The book is written with as much skilled prose and engaging conversation, as colourful characters and tense action as his Agent of Rome series, but additionally, it has given him the opportunity to build a world completely from the ground up. As a former (ish!) role-playing gamer, I am familiar with the process of fantasy world building, and unless the creator is thorough and has an eye for what will grab a reader that world will fail to engage. The fact that I found myself making notes and wanting to know more of places, concepts and people that gained a mere mention is a fantastic sign.

Marik is an interesting character in himself. Very unlike Cassius Corbulo, too. Where Corbulo was a bright young man who had been somewhat forced into activity from a would-be hedonistic lifestyle and treated folk with the disdain of the Roman patrician classes, Marik is a rough, if intelligent, former soldier, with a somewhat corroded sense of right and wrong, a pragmatic approach and a tendency to low cunning. He is a hero, for sure, but only in that he stops four paces short of being an anti-hero, and could easily become a villain with just a few slips. My kind of character, in short. In fact, for some time I struggled with liking him as a person, but I pushed on, for some of the greatest of literature’s characters have come across at first as unbearable (Sherlock Holmes, for example.) Marik becomes gradually more likeable, more understandable, and more redeemed as the book progresses, though he never loses the edge that makes you suspect he could change if he felt the need.

The tale comes to some extent in three parts, or at least that was how I found it. An introduction, with Marik wandering and poor, seeking a path and a way to live, struggling with bad work and worse people. This was an exploration of Marik and his world. Then we had a journey, which I might be tempted to liken to a fantasy Heart of Darkness. This led to epiphanies and a massive action extravaganza that occupied at least the last third of the book. That last section? Well let me tell you I relived the excitement of The Wild Geese and Zulu in a fantasy setting. It was a fabulous read that kept me turning the pages again and again.

In short, this book should appeal to lovers of fantasy, but probably also historical fiction. Marik’s Way is a brave departure from form, but a very worthwhile one, and I encourage everyone to go grab this novel at the earliest convenience.