“I was named Korendir.”
What turned a young, enigmatic galley slave into a stoic mute, whose first words uttered, other than his name, are about escape from bondage?
Why would a man who’s finally achieved fame, power, money, and influence, continue to risk himself on increasingly dangerous quests that seem certain to eventually result in his demise?
And why would he strive so hard to earn enough coin, to construct and house himself in an impregnable fortress, and then rarely ever remain safe there behind its virtually unassailable walls?
All of the above are questions, the answers to which are revealed in time, in a fantastic, suspenseful, standalone high-fantasy novel, one of the early works of iconic author Janny Wurts, entitled The Master of Whitestorm.
This addictive story begins with a powerful scene that was deeply personally affecting to me: slaves chained to the oars of a ship. Any depiction of one human being as property of another, always brings me pain, and also deep gratitude that my life is so much different than someone condemned to the physical and psychological horrors of slavery.
And when we first see the protagonist, Korendir, through the eyes of his fellow slave benchmate, named Haldeth, the reader may immediately wonder if the brutality of slavery itself has damaged Korendir, to the point where he’s previously been unspeaking, having suffered under the sadistic whips of his vicious Mhurgai masters, who also remorselessly slaughtered Haldeth’s family and enslaved him too.
Or is it something else that’s caused Korendir to be sheathed in cold, seemingly impervious armour, protecting him from revealing any deep feelings?
“…Somewhere in your quest for protection you’ve learned to live just to slaughter…”
Haldeth himself is emotionally damaged from the loss of his loved ones, and being enslaved. But he’s not teetering on the edge of insanity, as it is hinted Korendir might be.
For after all, no one has ever successfully escaped a Mhurgai slave ship, and to attempt it seems like a completely mad plan.
But Korendir is almost casual, matter-of-fact that he’s going to be the first to do so, risk to life and limb be damned.
Is Haldeth going to join him in the foolhardy attempt, or not?
What follows is a stunning series of episodic adventures, where nigh-impossible mercenary missions are embarked upon, against all manner of likely unbeatable foes, including scary monsters, the like of which would put Andrzej Sapkowski’s The Witcher Saga hero to shame.
But Wurts is not writing mere monster-slaying excursions. That said, the hero must contend with, among other things: a elemental deity who can destroy with wind and rain; a gorgeous but malevolent sorceress who toys with and then kills anyone who dares approach her tower, in order to free lands of her curse; and savage wereleopards that can rip someone in two in the blink of an eye. And those are the easier quests.
Yet while I say the protagonist is no Geralt of Rivia, and The Master of Whitestorm is not just a weekly monster hunt, Korendir seems just as deadened inside as Geralt, scarred by inner demons, while he faces the outer ones. Like Geralt, from the endless horror of what it entails to be a Witcher, is Korendir just numb from what he’s experienced? Or is Korendir truly a sociopath or psychopath?
This book is an exceptional character study which dismantles the hero archetype, as Korendir’s psyche is explored in depth. He is a man of contradictions. He’s incredibly capable, brave, smart, and resourceful. Yet he seems ready to shatter under the strain of what he is doing, and what he keeps buried deep inside. He orchestrates feats of increasing daring, outmaneuvering, outwitting, and outfighting daunting opponents, gaining reputation, amassing wealth, but is outmatched and overwhelmed in matters of the heart.
He clearly cares deeply for children, and those who are vulnerable, but often seems cold, clinical, detached, and reacts with a violent, wordless, and chilling fury during random situations. We watch the more healthily expressive Haldeth often see his friendship, and gruff efforts to aid and shield Korendir from what Haldeth sees as pure folly, rebuffed by Korendir in cavalier fashion, to the point where their relationship sometimes seems very imbalanced.
Moreover, we witness the stark contrast of how Haldeth copes with his own trauma – by trying to remain alone, safe, and living a quiet life without risk, rededicating himself to his smithcraft.
But will Haldeth be able to convince his friend to abandon a life as a black-clad mercenary, and killing-machine, for safer pursuits?
And what on earth has wounded Korendir so deeply that he is the way he is?
For those who adore the conflicted character of Arithon, from the author’s magnum opus Wars of Light and Shadow Series, one can see that perhaps Wurts, at the point in her writing career when she penned The Master of Whitestorm, was tinkering with the idea of a character in Korendir, a person with immense compassion. who was also broken inside, and whose demeanour and actions belied what was truly lurking underneath, and therefore Korendir was possibly somewhat of a precursor to Arithon.
So, Wurts’ characterization is always at the vanguard of her writing mastery, and this book is no different. Still, beyond Korendir and Haldeth, brilliantly-drawn characters such as Ithariel, a passionate, determined, and highly competent yet also flawed person, draw the reader in too, because she, like the others, act like real, complicated, messy people. Wurts makes us understand and appreciate the characters’ imperfections, along with their redeeming qualities, and thus attaches us to them, making it unavoidable that we come to worry about their fates.
Wurts’ lush worldbuilding brings the Eleven Kingdoms to glorious life, drawing from the author’s own personal experiences, providing a sense of authenticity to every scene no matter where they are set – be it a nautical adventure, a climb through the mountains, or a trek through the wilderness. The magic system is highly engaging, and while extremely interesting, it is explained just enough, not too much, that one can still maintain a sense of wonder, just as I prefer.
In terms of themes, the author shows us the other side of noble, just actions that appear evil from the opposing perspective – similar GRRM’s “a hero is a villain from the other side” mantra. Wurts also delves into the idea that those who are isolated, or ones who are nonconformists and austere, can actually be deeply altruistic, and very much attached to society, caring immensely about the good of humankind, and that their standoffishness is used as a shield. We also see the theme of how coping with trauma can bring out a hard-bitten resilience, and that one’s damage can be a propellant towards either extremely high achievement, or self-destruction (or both).
Regarding the actual writing, anyone reading the book will be able to bask in the elegance and uniqueness of the author’s incomparable prose. The sheer splendour of how Wurts uses adjectives alone will consistently bedazzle, as it does in everything she writes. A sample is provided below:
“Night fell. The dunes muffled the boom of the surf and the snap of burning logs seemed brittle, almost crushed by the weight of the greater silence. When the gelding sucked a sudden sharp breath into its damaged lungs, the sound parted the air like the rip of a knife through cloth.”
Reference pacing, this thrilling novel is full of plot twists, constant danger, courting tragedy, and nail-biting moments. Yet Wurts by no means sacrifices character depth, or lovely worldbuilding, and thematic relevance, for all the incredible action and suspense.
When it relates to plot and structure, please don’t be fooled by the vignette-like first part of the novel. Everything dovetails and meshes together flawlessly at the end, delivering an intense, hauntingly poignant finish that is ultimately extremely satisfying, but emotionally brutal. No one writes devastating yet hopeful endings like this author. Alongside the beauty, there is always bound to be pain when a Janny Wurts novel concludes.
The author deftly weaves an exciting, fast-paced, original tale of the supernatural, the paranormal, and the fantastic, threaded with a thought-provoking, in-depth character analysis of an impenetrable, shattered protagonist.
The Master of Whitestorm is an impeccably paced, and beautifully composed standalone fantasy, written several decades ago, that has aged flawlessly, and whose appeal will no doubt continue to endure.
My favourite author in the genre, Wurts pens some of the very best of what fantasy has to offer, and I encourage you to read her earlier works, such as The Master of Whitestorm. There is so much to adore from this writer’s backlist, beyond her main series, Wars of Light and Shadow.
