The Lymond Chronicles demand a fair amount of effort from the reader, as the huge cast and byzantine political manouverings can be a lot to keep up with. Yet the rewards are considerable. Dunnett provides the most audacious action set- pieces (including the best duel I’ve ever read in [b:The Game of Kings|112077|The Game of Kings (The Lymond Chronicles, #1)|Dorothy Dunnett|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1342486295s/112077.jpg|2219130]), breathtakingly exciting plot twists, as well as extremely witty dialogue and a brilliant sense of time and place. This third novel, though, took me some while to get into and had what I consider to be significant flaws. I found Lymond more trying than usual. His string of oblique and sarcastic statements, coupled with near omniscience and omnipotence, were similar to the previous two chronicles. In ‘The Disorderly Knights’, however, he is more inclined to punch teenage girls, which I object to in the strongest possible terms. This made it harder than ever to swallow all the commentary on his apparent charisma and success with women. Every character other than his mother and brother gives the clear impression of being in love with him, while periodically also wanting to murder him. Such inhuman charm suggests he’s some kind of fae. My favourite assessment of him in the whole book:

"He’s a tongue, Mr Crawford has, hasn’t he?” said Chester Herald in a pleased voice. “We found that out in France. A proper lad. And what he got up to!”
“You should see what he gets up to here,” said Jerott, bored.

I must also note that Dunnett’s sex scenes invariably contain hilariously purple prose, for example:

When, late at night, the shadow darkened the starlight behind her silent shrouds, and the door, whispering, admitted a deeper shadow, soft-footed and deft, it found her already perfect as a flower brought to its full-breathing height.

After a slow start, I did get carried away by the plot, in which Lymond decides he wants his own private army. The twist in the last third of the book is excellently done. While the action was as thrilling and impressive as ever, I can only give the novel three stars overall because I found the role of Joleta so thoroughly distasteful. This beautiful sixteen year old girl, with her ‘apricot’ coloured hair is at various times shown as an innocent child, a ‘bitch’ (several people use the epithet), a manipulative seductress, a nymphomaniac, a sadist, a victim of incestuous child abuse, and a murdered corpse. At no point does she seem like a believable person and everyone except Jerott treats her appallingly. Lymond is rude and violent, then sleeps with her under incredibly dubious circumstances. All the female characters find her tedious and spoiled, without apparently wondering why she’s like this. It’s mostly left to the reader’s imagination what Gabriel did to her in the past, but it was clearly horrific, and in the end he murders both her and her (their?!) unborn child. It surprises me to find a female author treating a female character in this fashion. I refuse to believe that the plot required Joleta to suffer as she did, without ever being presented as sympathetic.

On the other hand, I thought her brother Gabriel was handled much better. It was very satisfying when he turned out to be the true villain of the piece, although the depths of his villainy were unnecessarily hyperbolic. Did he need to be Joleta’s abuser? I think not. Overall, though, he worked very well as a dark mirror of Lymond. Both of them are charismatic and machiavellian blond men who seem too good to be true. In Gabriel’s case, his facade of piety apparently conceals absolute evil. In Lymond’s case, he can’t be bothered with a mask of politeness and would rather irritate everyone with his insouciant competence. The climactic fight between Gabriel and Lymond in St Giles’ Church is a delightful slice of pure melodrama, particularly satisfying as I regularly walk past the place. Other especially dramatic moments include Will Scott’s death (which was genuinely moving), the whipping scene, and the powder magazine fire. Dunnett is very good at fires, actually.

It might be a while before I read the next in the Lymond Chronicles as they are rich, intermittently indigestible fare. While Dunnett’s plots and action scenes are exemplary, the romance elements range from the absurd to the truly horrifying. Lymond himself can try your patience with his shenanigans; I have every sympathy for his long-suffering and sardonic mother Sybilla. ( )

Oh, I am so happy. I am heartbroken. I’ve just run an exhausting mixture of a sprint and a marathon and collapsed after the finish line, gasping.

Dunnett is shatteringly ruthless in this book. Beloved characters die in horrible ways. The knives are invisible and they pierce you slowly, until Dunnett starts to twist. Things are not what they seem, this is not the story you think you are reading! There are clues, of course, but you gallop past them – because of the plot, because of some of the best action I’ve ever encountered on a page, because of masks so skilfully worn.

As for the characters…:

There is a maturity, a sense of responsibility, an urgency to Lymond that was missing from the first two books. I’m full of admiration, both for the character arc and the author’s skill in creating it. This is not a game any more. (Richard to Lymond: “Not for the first time, you frighten me silly.”)

I loved the chemistry between Lymond and Gabriel and Jerott. Yes, I want a slashfic, is that really too much to ask? Obviously (for those in the know), I mean Gabriel from the first half of the book, this Gabriel:
“I wish… you did not need to mock,” he said, and rested his fingertips, briefly, as once before, on Lymond’s arm. “For of all men, my God could love you; and I, too.”

Oonagh, whose storyline I hated in the previous book, managed to make me root for her and break my heart.
“Could she not teach him other comforts, though? The comfort of planning, of action; the great panacea of success. On this stricken island there was no one who knew what a leader should be like… except Oonagh O’Dwyer.”

Joleta… So much potential, so much talent that was wasted and twisted. I can’t help feeling a lot of sympathy and sorrow. It’s interesting how Dunnett crams all this convent-bred innocence down the reader’s throat – it should give you a clue, but it doesn’t.

Sibylla, you are such a joy, in so many ways, always. “The Church,” said Sibylla definitely, “should excommunicate girls who do not replace lids on sticky jars and wash their hair every day with the best towels.”

Somervilles are an awesome family. I hated Philippa the brat, and then she turned into a seed of something magnificent (I’ll see what the rest of the books bring). Well, maybe it is not that surprising, with such a mother. “… and being Kate, she had stayed, gnawing at her nails, where she was, and had left Philippa to do her growing-up without interference.”

I really wanted an epic sword fight between certain characters – as the book was drawing to a close, I grew worried. And then it happened! It *was* epic (too short, though).
The ending makes you want to grab the next book. I won’t, though, not right now. I need to breathe and come to my senses. ( )

Docked one star because it is the first book of a longer arc and not a self-contained story. Also, pretty scattered among different events. You'll spend most of the book wondering how this fits together and I won't spoil it. But I will definitely read the next book. ( )

It took me a little while to get into this book - likely because it's been quite some time since I've read the preceding novels in this series - but it was well worth the effort by the end. Francis Crawford of Lymond makes for a fascinating character and I enjoyed his exploits, along with the savory and unsavory figures he encountered in his adventures. This book does ended on something of a cliffhanger and I think I may need to pick up the next volume in the series sooner rather than later. ( )

Lymond fights takeover of Knights Hospitalers