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“The emissaries of death stood in rows on the far side of the river, the sun glinting blindingly off hundreds of metal helmets:��

“�� in the front line the pikemen and slingers, shifting from foot to foot behind an interminable row of wooden pavises, bracing themselves against the cold and the bitter thrill of battle; behind them the archers �� at a rough glance she counted close to two hundred, including around fifty arbalists �� and behind them the knights, their bodies swaying with the movement of their horses shifting restless beneath them, their hooves pawing testily at the ground. And then beyond them all, like the background of a macabre tapestry, great plumes of smoke rose into the sky from the burning village.��

THE SIEGE WINTER is a gritty, and very much down in the dirt, tale of medieval 12th century England during the near endless war between King Stephen I and the claimant to his throne, King Henry I’s sole legitimate “heir�� �� a daughter, God forbid! �� empress Matilda. But unlike Sharon Kay Penman’s show-stopping behemoth WHEN CHRIST AND HIS SAINTS SLEPT or Elizabeth Chadwick’s phenomenal LADY OF THE ENGLISH, Ariana Franklin has, for the most part, bypassed the history of the muckety-mucks of the day and dug down and dirty into the muck of the trenches, to regale her excited readers with the results of such a war on the real folks of that war torn country.

That is to say, THE SIEGE WINTER tells a breathless, compelling, shocking story of the second level gentry and land holders whose allegiance was pulled back and forth from pillar to post; young peasant girls whose bodies were shamelessly ravaged as spoils of war; and, of course, mercenaries, foot soldiers, archers, knights, and horseman who were the chess pieces maneuvered in the despoiled English country side that Stephen and Matilda saw as the chess board on which their rivalry was to be ultimately decided.

Such characters, whose names most of us have almost certainly never even heard let alone been aware of any details of their lives, were portrayed with a loving attention to bring them alive:

“�� although, as she was fond of telling people, the man was dull to the point of eye-watering tedium and could probably bore several men to death at fifty paces, there was no denying that he was also brave.��

But, make no mistake �� although the story was focused on the small people, when Empress Matilda was in the room and on stage, as it were, there was absolutely no question as to who was in charge and who ruled the roost:

“She took two steps forward and spoke. ‘I am the empress Matilda, lady of England and your sovereign. Open to me. NOW.�� A thousand years of dominion went ringing across the Thames like a trumpet blast. Anglo-Saxon and Viking-Norman ancestry combined in a chord that had deafened and conquered nations. It expected the moon to bow the knee.��

Then there is the heart-warming story-line of Emma, the eleven year old red-headed peasant girl rescued after her rape by a lascivious evil and decidedly pedophile monk with an especial interest in red hair, by Gwyl who dresses her as a boy to protect her from the travails of medieval misogyny and trains her as an archer. “Omigod �� wow!�� is appropriate but sells the charms of this tear-jerker tale far too short!

Definitely recommended. Samantha Norman, Ariana Franklin's daughter, did a yeoman job of seamlessly completing the novel, that was left unfinished upon her mother's death. I'm left only with the pleasant prospect of seeking out more of Samantha Norman's future solo efforts.

Paul Weiss