An ancient hierarchy of wizards.
Votaries of the old powers.
Warlords, fiends and shadows.
Where the otherworld is alive, nature is sovereign and balance is kept by the sword.
These tales are driven by an assassin named Lorth of Ostarin, a complex character with a bent towards bringing things to their darkest ends. Following his redoubtable exploits, each book stands alone, happening in the same world with Lorth and some of the other characters appearing throughout.
The Omnibus Edition includes Books 1-4, a full glossary and links to high resolution maps.
FTD: Hi, my Dragons! I’d love to introduce to you P.J. Berman, author of Vengeance of Hope. Hi, Peter! Welcome to FeeRtheDragon blog. It’s great having you here. Can you tell us a bit about yourself?
PJB: Well, I suppose that outside of my budding career as an author, the biggest thing about my life is that I am a stay-at-home Dad for my baby daughter. It’s a great job to have! I am also a big sport fan. I mainly watch football/soccer and rugby. Liking rugby is an essential part of the culture here in Wales!
FTD: That’s pretty interesting. I always love hearing about people and their cultures. As you know, I’ve read Vengeance of Hope, and I know what I think about it, I loved it! But, if you were to tell someone about Vengeance of Hope in one sentence, what would you tell them?
PJB: Thank you very much! I guess I’d start by saying that it’s a novel that focuses on freedom fighters, taking an in-depth look at their ideas, as well as what motivates them.
FTD: I love your answer. That is so right with how I thought about the story as I was reading it. I found Vengeance of Hope fascinating. Where did you get your inspiration for this story, or did it just come to you?
PJB: This might sound strange, but it wasn’t really planned at all to start with. I had written some short stories before, but then one day I started writing the manuscript that over the following five and a half years developed into Vengeance of Hope. Those first few scenes are unrecognisable now, as I rewrote them so many times while I was planning the rest of the novel, but it really did come about through a moment of just seeing what would happen! One thing that was always going to be a feature of the book was a strong female lead. I felt that the novel needed that more than anything else.
FTD: That is so exciting having ideas come and change and end up being a great piece of work. I love that you had the idea of a strong female lead. What is the most important thing about Vengeance of Hope that you would want your readers to take away from this tale?
PJB: Interesting question! I suppose I’d want them to see that the root causes of all the violence and upheaval in the story are hatred and selfishness. If we can eliminate those factors, war wouldn’t happen.
FTD: Wow! That’s pretty profound. What a great answer! I’d have to agree. You have a great balance of men and women characters in this story. Were there any female inspirations in your life that you drew from to create your female characters?
PJB: There are certainly a few historical figures that inspired my characters. People such Queen Boudicca of the Iceni and Tamar the Great of Kartvelia inspired the character of Silrith. In Zethun’s case, Tiberius Gracchus was the main inspiration for his storyline. I realise Zethun is a man though, which doesn’t entirely tie in with your question!
FTD: That’s interesting. I’ll have to do some research, then. Speaking of Silrith, I absolutely love her. What is it about Silrith that you would want to get across to your readers? And, since you brought up Zethun, you can answer the same question about him, if you would?
PJB: That’s very gratifying to hear! In Silrith’s case, I would say that to me, she is an example of someone who is never beaten. She will never stop standing up for what she believes in. In many ways, that is the same for Zethun, and for the book’s third freedom fighter, Ezrina. They just believe in very different things. Will they be able to compromise on their beliefs for the benefit of others?
FTD: I can’t wait to find out! What was your favorite part about writing Vengeance of Hope?
PJB: Probably the pre-battle speeches. I always love those scenes in films and so I enjoyed writing some of my own. There are more of those to come in ‘King of the Republic’!
FTD: I loved them too! Since you’re hinting of more books, do you have a set number of books set in Bennvika, or do you plan to see where the story takes you?
PJB: So ‘King of the Republic’ is due out later this year, and I am also working on the third novel at the moment, with the working title of ‘War of Mercy’. Beyond that, there is a fourth novel planned, so there will be at least four in total. However, this number may change, as I also have further ideas I want to explore, including the possibility of at least one prequel.
FTD: That’s so exciting. I’ll definitely be reading them! On a different note, have you had any formal education in writing or is it something you feel you were born to do?
PJB: Great! I’m so happy to hear that! I don’t have much of a background in writing to be honest. Before I moved to Welsh countryside, when I was living near London, I was a regular attendee of a couple of writer’s groups though, and they really helped me improve my work. I owe them a lot!
FTD: It’s always nice to have colleagues that you can learn from. Speaking of other authors, readers are always wanting to know what authors are an author’s favorite, so who are some of your favorite authors?
PJB: I’d say my influences come from both fantasy and historical fiction. When it comes to fantasy, I particularly enjoy the work of Joe Abercrombie, while on the historical side of things, Simon Scarrow is a favourite of mine. I guess it’s because both of them are masters of creating characters who you really care about. When they are in danger you worry for their welfare even if you know they are in the next book!
FTD: Sounds like some great reads. I’ll have to check them out. I know it’s hard, but can you name three of your favorite books?
PJB: I’d probably have to pick out ‘Half the World’ by Joe Abercrombie, ‘When the Eagle Hunts’ by Simon Scarrow and ‘The Last Kingdom’ by Bernard Cornwell. At the moment I am reading ‘The Desert Spear’ by Peter V Brett, which I am very much enjoying.
FTD: Peter, thanks for joining me at FeeRtheDragon blog today. It was great getting to know the author behind such a great book as Vengeance of Hope. I wish you all the best with your writing career, and I am looking forward to many more stories from you!
PJB: Thank you very much! It’s been a pleasure!
You can connect with P.J. Bermanand sign up for his newsletter here:
Vengeance of Hope by P.J. Berman is the debut novel set in the world of Bennvika. We follow three main characters, Silrith, a princess; Ezrina, a rebel; and a lesser noble, Zethun as they stand up to tyranny and religious persecution. Will they succeed?
I have to say, this is one of the best stories I have read featuring strong female characters. It was refreshing to read about a female character who is actually strong in the ways that women need to be strong. Standing up for what they believe in and fighting for what’s right.
Berman doesn’t sugarcoat things, and he gets right to the heart of the trials and tribulations that are happening in the world he has created. Berman’s writing is such that we see the effects of tyranny and oppression as they happen. Seeing strong characters fighting for what’s right had me on the edge of my seat, rooting for the good guys and gals. This is definitely a must read and I highly recommend it. It is not for the faint of heart, though. It takes strong people to fight such actions and these characters definitely do that. I cannot wait to see what happens in the next installment, ‘King of the Republic.’
Opening scene of Vengeance of Hope:
KRIGANHEIM, KINGDOM OF BENNVIKA, 1520 YEARS AFTER UNIFICATION – SPRING
With a start, Afayna came to as icy water hit her face, swiftly followed by a stinging slap to her cheek. Sprawled on her back, she attempted to rise but realised with terror that each of her limbs were tied down with rough, coarse rope.
‘Help! Gods! Where am I?’
Laughter rang out from the darkness. Only the smallest flicker of brazier fire lit the room through a window in the door, but as her eyes adjusted, she made out the shapes of two men.
‘Awake again are we Afayna my sweet? That’s a good girl.’
‘Why am I here? Tell me,’ she pleaded. The two men smirked at her distress.
‘How strange it must be for you,’ one of them said; his neat blonde hair and chiseled cheekbones more visible now. ‘One moment you’re just another maid going about her daily business in the palace. The next, you wake up here.’ Afayna scanned the room, desperately trying to control her panic. She was spread-eagle on a torture rack and now she could see that the walls had many shelves and hanging hooks that were littered with various blades of different shapes and sizes. Yet it was not the weapons that filled her with dread, but the man’s calm and yet sinister tone. Every word sent paralysing fear shooting through her body once again.
Strangely, something about his confident manner and educated voice reminded her of Lord Jostan, but it wasn’t him. From his dark profile, she could tell that this man lacked the foreign nobleman’s exotic virility and rugged handsomeness.
‘Let me go. Princess Silrith will hear about this and when she does, she’ll tell the King and then you’ll be sorry.’
‘You honestly think you’re in a position to threaten me?’ The interrogator gave a nod to his accomplice and the other man, a hulking, musclebound type with short hair, moved round to the end of the rack to stand behind Afayna’s head. He heaved on the roller and stretched the ropes tight, drawing an inhuman howl from the girl.
‘People are always so cocky at the start. They forget who’s got the power here. You see Afayna, and it surprises me that you don’t already know this, the King is dying and the Princess, like you, is a traitor.’
His final word turned Afayna’s blood to ice, yet her fear was laced with confusion.
‘What? No. It’s not true.’
‘Do you deny that you served the King his last meal?’
‘I did, but-’
‘Oh! So you knew it’d be his last meal then, eh?’
‘No! I meant-’
‘And is it true that you stole the Amulet of Hazgorata?’
‘No! Why would I? How could I?’
Afayna bellowed in pain as the torturer heaved on the roller again, stretching her limbs while the rope tore into her skin.
‘You were seen with it Afayna. One of your fellows has testified against you. Now, I’m going to ask you once more. Did you steal the Amulet of Hazgorata?’
Afayna’s reply was to spit at him in defiance, launching a good amount of sputum at least three feet in the direction of the interrogator’s face, though it only hit his shoulder.
‘Your passionate defence is impressive,’ he laughed. ‘But I’m afraid the question still stands.’
‘I didn’t steal it.’
‘Then why were you seen with it shortly before the King was taken ill, carrying it, then twisting the lid and pouring the contents onto the King’s meal?’ Afayna’s eyes widened in horror as she realised what she had done.
‘It was given to me. I was told it contained some new flavouring that the King liked.’ She realised she’d been foolishly trusting.
‘Well unfortunately for you, you left some inside the Amulet and on discovery, it turned out to be poison hemlock. Deadly. What’s more, you added just enough to kill him, without it being instant, giving you a chance to make your escape. If only you hadn’t been seen. Looks pretty bad for you now doesn’t it?’ He gave a disturbing smile. ‘So, if it was a gift, as you claim, who gave it to you?’
‘Lord Jostan,’ Afayna said eventually, still breathing hard. She suddenly became aware that her body was now soaking with sweat.
‘Don’t play around with me. I know Lord Jostan. It’s not him.’ He nodded for her to be stretched again. Afayna gritted her teeth, but nonetheless, she couldn’t hold back an animalistic scream.
‘It’s true!’ she shrieked in desperation. The effort of each breath sent searing pain burning through her body.
‘I was in…Princess Silrith’s entourage when…when she and the others welcomed him…into the Palace,’ she gasped.
‘So you’re saying that Lord Jostan Kazabrus, our King’s own nephew, sailed from his lands across the sea, marched all the way from Asrantica to the palace under escort, just so that he could plot with some inconsequential maid? Somehow I find that a little hard to believe. I doubt that if he had planned on undertaking regicide, he would have chosen you as an accomplice, instead of a person of rank and consequence.’
‘It was him! He noticed me…soon after he arrived last summer.’
‘So you say he was an opportunist?’ the interrogator asked.
‘Yes. He took…an interest in me. I thought…I thought he cared for me. He said he’d marry me if I-’
‘-He said he’d marry you? A maid? I don’t believe this. Don’t waste my time. Just because he had his way with you doesn’t mean he cares about you. The King is on his death bed because of your treachery. Now, who gave you the Amulet? How about Princess Silrith? Wanted to be Queen, did she?’
‘No! How can you say that?’ Afayna couldn’t believe he was making such an implausible accusation.
A laugh escaped him once more.
‘She did have the most to gain out of his death and through you she had the chance to bring it about. Anyway, you were heard by one of your fellow servants only days ago talking to her about what she’d do when she was Queen.’
‘She wasn’t talking about that.’
‘She wasn’t. She…she was talking about the King of Gilbaya…and how he dishonours…his Queen. She was talking…she was talking about what she would do if…if she were the Queen of Gilbaya!’ She used all the strength she could muster and yet her words only came out in gasps as her body endured the waves of excruciating pain.
The torturer began to stretch her again. The ropes dug deeper, ripping the skin from her body, pulling at her joints so that her bones threatened to dislocate from their sockets.
‘A likely story. It’s interesting that you were so quick with an explanation. Anyway, you prepared the King’s meal and you were the food taster. You must have known that the food was poisoned. It’s hard to believe that just by chance, you tasted a bit that the poison hadn’t touched.’
‘But that’s what happened,’ Afayna whimpered.
‘Sorry, I don’t believe you. Now, did Princess Silrith give you the poison? Gods. You disgust me.’
An acrid stench filled the chamber. In her terror, Afayna had lost control of her bladder and part of the rack was now soaked in urine.
‘No,’ she said eventually, overcome with humiliation.
Another stretch. Afayna endured it, forcibly silencing her scream. The ropes slackened again a little and she felt her whole body heave involuntarily, causing her to cough and splutter as she was almost choked by her own vomit, before it ran down her cheek.
‘Did she give it to you?’
‘You’re really not getting this are you?’ The interrogator gave another nod and the torturer stretched her again. This time Afayna felt pain like she’d never experienced before as her shoulders were wrenched out of their sockets. An unearthly scream escaped from her mouth and pierced the air before faltering as she slipped into unconsciousness.
She was slapped back into reality and looked straight into the eyes of her interrogator. Was death truly near?
‘I didn’t hear an answer. Did she give it to you?’
‘No,’ she spat, in one final attempt to summon up the strength of the damned.
He stretched her again.
Delirious with pain, barely a feeble whimper escaped her as her joints tore apart.
‘Stop. Please. I confess. I confess.’
‘About time. And who instructed you?’
‘Silrith,’ slipped from her lips. The interrogator smiled at the torturer in dark satisfaction. He walked to the door and opened it.
‘That’s it, boys. Home to Asrantica tomorrow. We’ve got our confession.’
His words were met by a merry cheer.
‘Untie her and take her to her cell,’ he said matter-of-factly as he re-entered the room followed by two guards.
‘She dies on the morrow.’
Hope you enjoyed that opening scene, courtesy of P.J. Berman.
A reissue of an old favorite. The Auld Mither grew initially from a short story I co-wrote with Graeme Hurry, The Blue Hag, but it always felt worthy of a longer look, and here it is in a new edition from Unnerving Press.
It was started way back in the late ’90s, when I lived in Aberdeenshire up in the North East of Scotland, and is set there, in a remote deer farm, where old traditions die hard, and The Auld Mither, a crone-like hag with razor sharp bones for fingers, is killing off the proponents of a new abattoir.
This one always felt to me like a Hammer Horror, with too red blood and too raucous screams. At least that’s the way it ran in my head. Hopefully it’ll run like that for you too.