Godforsaken
by Steven L. Shrewsbury
ISBN 1-933016-10-8
2005, 262 pages, soft cover, $15.95
Behler Publications
http://www.behlerpublications.com/

Over the past few years, Steven Shrewsbury has made quite a name for himself as a short story writer. With a resume of tales numbering in the hundreds, Shrewsbury's main claim to fame has been the insanely popular Dack Shannon series (though he has dabbled proficiently in several other areas as well). A noted Robert E. Howard fan, Shrewsbury's "barbarian" stories have long since been a staple in any good epic/high fantasy magazine—and now, at long last, he has blessed his readers with Godforsaken, his first full-length barbarian novel.

Set in 59 AD, Godforsaken chronicles the life and times of Lucan Mac Aliester, a Celtic warrior removed from his homeland of Anglesey by the Roman fleet. In a world overrun with myriad gods and fleet-footed traditions, Lucan cheats death by making a pact with the goddess Fey, who grants him certain special physical abilities and a promise of godhood. But Fey's motives are dual in nature, and Lucan soon finds himself at the mercy of his Roman captors as he is delivered into the heart of Rome as a gladiator. Despite enormously unfavorable odds, Lucan escapes and, along with his son, Thorn, and surviving kin, journeys to Babylon, and then on to the Garden of Eden where the Tree of Life (and elusive immortality) grows—but as Lucan at last closes in on Artaz, and the snowy Germanian plains beyond, as Thorn and himself grow in strength and power, it becomes evident that the lion's path is wrought with treachery. As tempting as omnipotence—in the flesh or in myth—is, it is not achieved without sacrifice, and the price of divinity is high indeed.

My initial concern while reading Godforsaken was how Shrewsbury was going to handle himself in the long form. However, a short ways into the book I realized my worries were unfounded. Moving briskly from point to point, Shrewsbury has brought the mythology alive and rendered it in stark detail through Lucan's savage viewpoint. I'm reminded of Mercedes Lackey's Firebird: one part myth, one part history, two parts storytelling.

The characters, though barbaric they may be, are real, and they move the story forward as opposed to allowing the story to move them forward. Lucan's character has humanity. I would have liked to see Thorn's character (and his relationship with his father) explored more fully, but this is not Thorn's story; it is Lucan's. Despite his rather superhuman abilities, Lucan is not so omnipotent as to be considered boring. His journey—his struggle to overcome captivity, to find a new home for his warrior tribe—is convincing because he must earn each victory, godliness or otherwise.

Though there are many memorable moments throughout, the centerpiece of the novel is undoubtedly Lucan's bout as a Roman gladiator. Here, the teeming city is captured in crystal clarity, from Lucan's first glimpses of the port of Ostia to his final moments standing bruised and battered before Nero. Shrewsbury's imagery is haunting, to say the least, and his carefully-crafted historical/mythological backdrop is enough to swallow you whole, if you're not careful.

Godforsaken is a potent novel, raw in the telling, brutal in concept—it is compelling evidence of wondrous things yet to come from one of the genre's most prolific writers.

Keep your eye on Steven Shrewsbury.

—Jesse Gordon
Vertigo Alley

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