By Bernard Cornwell
"The maximum author of ancient adventures today" (Washington publish) tackles his richest, such a lot exciting topic yet--the heroic story of Agincourt.
Young Nicholas Hook is dogged through a cursed past--haunted via what he has didn't do and banished for what he has performed. A sought after guy in England, he's pushed to struggle as a mercenary archer in France, the place he reveals issues he can love: his instincts as a battling guy, and a lady in difficulty. jointly they continue to exist the infamous bloodbath at Soissons, an occasion that shocks all Christendom. with out innovations left, Hook heads domestic to England, the place his catch capability convinced dying. as a substitute he's came upon via the younger King of England--Henry V himself--and through royal command he's taking up the longbow back and dons the go of Saint George. Hook returns to France as a part of the excellent military Henry leads in his quest to assert the French crown. yet after the English crusade suffers devastating early losses, it turns into transparent that Hook and his fellow archers are their king's final hotel in a determined struggle opposed to an enemy extra daunting than they can ever have imagined.
One of the main dramatic victories in British historical past, the conflict of Agincourt--immortalized by means of Shakespeare in Henry V--pitted undermanned and beaten English forces opposed to a French military made up our minds to maintain their crown out of Henry's arms. the following Bernard Cornwell resurrects the legend of the conflict and the "band of brothers" who fought it on October 25, 1415. An epic of redemption, Agincourt follows a commoner, a king, and a nation's whole military on an implausible challenge to check the need of God and reclaim what's rightfully theirs. From the mess ups on the siege of Harfleur to the horrors of the sphere of Agincourt, this exhilarating tale of survival and slaughter is straight away a super paintings of heritage and a triumph of imagination—Bernard Cornwell at his top.
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Extra resources for Azincourt
But however modern in his subject matter, Zweig was not what we call a modernist. Though he flourished in the Twenties and Thirties, his memoirs make no mention of T. S. Eliot, Virginia Woolf, Kafka, Picasso, Stravinsky. He knew Joyce, but he doesn’t seem to have read Ulysses. He went to a Schönberg première, but he doesn’t say he liked it. The frontier of modern art, in his mind, appears to have been Rilke and Richard Strauss. This fact — that in a period of formal experimentation, he was not an experimentalist — is part of the reason that he, together with other stylistically traditional moderns (Joseph Roth, for example), has been valued by later generations at less than his true worth.
So he descends ever deeper into hypocrisy. In the process, Zweig gives us a piercing analysis of the motives underlying pity. Gradually Hofmiller realizes how much he enjoys the attentions paid to him for his emotional services, how it pleases him that when he arrives at the Schloss his favorite cigarettes — and also the novel (its pages already cut) that he had said in passing that he wanted to read — are laid out on the tea table. Nor is it lost on him that his own sense of strength is magnified by Edith’s weakness and, above all, by his growing power over the Kekesfalvas, the fact that if he, a poor soldier, does not present himself at teatime, this great, rich household is thrown into a panic, and the chauffeur is dispatched to town to spy him out and see what he is doing in preference to waiting on Edith.
Whenever I was in the saddle I felt fine, and my thoughts did not travel far beyond my horse’s neck. In November, 1913, the year when my story opens, some order or other must have passed from one department to another, for before you could say Jack Robinson our squadron was transferred from Jaroslau to another small garrison town on the Hungarian frontier. It is of no importance whether I call the little town by its right name or not, for two buttons on a uniform could not more closely resemble each other than does one Austrian provincial garrison town another.