I understand why people like this book. I do, it just isn't to my taste, which is a shame because if some different decisions were made in the narrative, I have a feeling I would have been a huge fan. I am not a fan of the "innocent" heroine, and sometimes I could really take or leave the main two characters. This book is also super low stakes, but low stakes doesn't have to mean lacking in drama. It is also low angst and funny sometimes, which is what I think people appreciate more. The plot is basically some legal drama over who owns someone's inheritance. They are constantly traveling between the same two towns. I disagree with the ending. I really do think that a curse should've been broken at the end or something. The worldbuilding was nice (although I probably would have understood it more if I had read the other books). I really liked how the queer representation was both good, casual and well-integrated into the world. There is no point where we are justifying the existence of Zale to any of the characters or the reader. ( )

Magia, romance, un viaje con une monje abogade y muchas preguntas por parte de la protagonista.

Lo que me reído y disfrutado de esta novela. T Kingfisher ha sido el mejor descubrimiento de este 2022.

Necesito saber mas del resto de espadas. ( )

I’m a sucker for a good quest. Even if the romance came on a bit quick and the final conflict felt a little forced, if there’s bickering around a campfire, a hurt/comfort bandit scene, and idle roadside buffoonery, I’m gonna enjoy myself lol.

I’m very excited to read more Kingfisher

Hilarious! ( )

Having by now read a few books by T. Kingfisher, I have come to the conclusion that this author would never disappoint me, no matter which of her novels I pick up. Swordheart is set in the same background as my previous read, Paladin’s Grace, so that I found some familiar details and even a familiar “face” from that book, and what’s more, a passage in this book led me to learn about a duology - The Clocktaur War - that shares some of those same elements, so that will probably be one of my next picks from T. Kingfisher.

Swordheart’s protagonist is Halla, a mid-thirties respectable widow who in the past few years took care of a grumpy relative: at his death she discovers that Uncle Silas indicated her as his heir, to her enormous surprise and to the anger of other relatives, particularly unpleasant Aunt Malva and her son Cousin Alver, a mother-dominated individual who wants to marry Halla to set his clammy hands on her inheritance. At the woman’s refusal to acquiesce, the two lock her in her room and after a few days poor Halla starts to contemplate suicide as a means of escape: taking a sword - part of the extensive collection of artifacts left by Uncle Silas - from its wall mount, she intends to fall on it, but as soon as she unsheathes it, a man appears in a flash of blue light. It’s Sarkis, a warrior who has been magically trapped into the sword as a punishment, forever forced to obey and protect the wielder of the sword - in this case bewildered Halla.

Sarkis helps Halla to escape her greedy relatives’ clutches and the two embark on an eventful journey toward the city of Archon’s Glory and the Temple of the Rat, whose skilled lawyers might help her to settle the inheritance issue. The return journey, together with priest-lawyer Zale and the gnole cart driver Brindle will be just as eventful and the controversy with Halla’s relatives will prove to be not so easily resolved, but with such tenacious allies, and a good measure of ingenuity, our widow grows in confidence and courage and also finds that her plans for the future might turn out to be even better than she imagined…

Not for the first time I find that T. Kingfisher is one of those rare authors who manage to insert a very enjoyable romantic angle in their stories, which is quite surprising, since I tend to avoid romance in my reading - but Kingfisher always does it with a good dose of humor and a sprinkle of quirky misunderstandings that turn the romantic thread into something totally entertaining. Of course here it helps that Halla is far from an inexperienced, fluffy-brained girl, and that Sarkis is a wry veteran of many battles, and very serious about his duties as the genie-in-the-sword. The juxtaposition between these two characters is one of the best elements in the story, what with Halla posing endless streams of questions about, well, anything and gruff Sarkis teetering between annoyance at Halla’s endless curiosity and a growing sense of protectiveness toward his wielder. And his attraction for her generous bosom as well….

The story however sports some dramatic moments, particularly where Sarkis’ past is concerned: his pain for past mistakes of judgment, that cost the lives of many of his comrades and that ultimately led him to this present condition, is something that adds an intriguing layer to his personality and the main reason - besides being tied to an enchanted sword, that is - he’s reluctant to express his feelings toward Halla. He is somewhat damaged, and as the story unfolds we discover that Halla is too, in her own way: the beauty of their relationship comes from the fact that they end up complementing and enhancing each other, which is made possible by their maturity and the sum of their lives’ experiences.

This review would not be complete without a mention of the lawyer-priest Zale (which I already encountered in Paladin’s Grace) and of their intriguing diversions into the details of legislation, not to mention their deadpan attitude that often serves the group of travelers when they encounter some unsavory characters. The Temple of the Rat and its servants piqued my curiosity in the first Paladin novel, and I was quite happy to learn more about them here: there is an intriguing narrative angle in the descriptions of this religious sect’s adherence to law in what looks like an otherwise lawless background, and I hope to learn even more about that in the other books set in this same universe.

And last but not least, Brindle the gnole cart driver: in this universe, gnoles are badger-like creatures gifted with speech who peacefully co-exist with humans, taking on several menial tasks: Brindle is far more than a comic relief in the story, because his impassive replies and his somewhat bewildered comments about human nature add a very welcome humorous point of view about our own behavior.

Once more, T. Kingfisher managed to enchant me with her oh-so-unlikely heroes and their equally unlikely adventures, a veritable breath of fresh air in a genre that too often tends toward grimness and ominous threats. I can’t wait to sample what other delightful stories are set in this imaginary background. ( )