Book Corner: Reliquary by Prue Batten

1196AD
Lyon
Relics can move mountains, so history relays. They cure the sick, promise success, enable whole kingdoms to win wars.
A fragment of byssus lies in a small chest and its very existence underlines the life of Christ and the meaning behind the Holy Church. Its power can only be wondered at.
It is the kind of relic which inspires heroic deeds and . . . murder.
An elderly nun and a returned crusader are all that stands between the world’s most sanctified relic and a Templar knight who craves it for his own purpose.
From Constantinople to Caen, from Venice to Viviers, from Rome to Rouen, relics are traded like pepper and frankincense, silk and silver, lapis and alum. Sold to the highest bidder.
Who then should pay the highest price of all for a fragment of aged cloth?
Is the highest price surely . . . and inevitably . . . death?

My first thought on looking at Reliquary by Prue Batten was what a gorgeous cover!

As to the book, it was fabulous!

I loved Reliquary!

Reliquary brings together a disparate group of heroes with one aim – to get a newly acquired relic safely to its destination, which is a small, impoverished convent in France. It is a moving and exciting tale of the power of relics and friendship in Europe in the aftermath of the Third Crusade.

Faced by powerful enemies, including the weather, and set in the aftermath of the Third Crusade, Reliquary is a gripping tale, replete with action, adventure and intrigue. The clever plotline is enacted by wonderful, flawed characters with whom the reader cannot help but to feel an affinity. Prue Batten has written a marvellous, gripping tale of a comradeship forged against the avaricious greed of the rich and powerful.

Beautiful imagery.

‘We need a relic.’
‘Pardon,’ the Obedientiary put down her mug of watered wine and stared at the Prioress.
‘We need a relic,’ the Prioress replied. Younger than the Obedientiary, she had blue eyes. One could almost say guileless, had it not been for the veil of iron behind the heavenly colour. The Obedientiary had observed those eyes harden to molten steel, and as strong, many times. Especially when senior prelates had visited the priory with the express purpose of wanting it closed because of its small population and lack of fame and fortune. As the Prioress spoke now, her eyes darkened – a tint reminiscent of the forge as the smithy honed blades for those who sought to arm themselves.
‘Something to bring the pilgrims,’ she continued, rubbing the worn edge of the table as if the smooth rhythm might settle the uneven nature of her thoughts. ‘In short, to bring us monies. We are only a few leagues away from the Chemin de Compostelle…’
In fact, the Obedientiary knew this. The Via Arena, beloved of pilgrims, passed through Jumeaux, following the river that trickled and sometimes flowed, not far from Esteil.
‘I cannot fight off these crows of canons for much longer. I have been communicating with Mother Abbess at Fontevrault and she agrees that we must find a way to improve Esteil’s fortunes. In between times, she has said she will do what she can, but in my view it will be little, perhaps nothing.’
Esteil was situated within Fontevrault’s purview. Occasionally, the mother house dispensed funds to smaller houses in distress. It also kept a weather eye on the spiritual well being of the houses, but most small convents were expected to contribute to the continuance – temporal and spiritual. Survival of the fittest, thought the Obedientiary.
Outside, the wood pigeons cooed and the hens that lay smooth brown eggs pecked and clucked as if they understood the Prioress’s concerns. Someone walked past in clogs, the beat of their steps on the stones of the cloister the only sound apart from the birds. Perhaps the midday meal was done and the sisters were beginning to file out of the refectory to attend to their yard duties – the physic garden, the provender garden, the hens or the orchard. Or perhaps some of their small number were copying in the scriptorium, or stitching within the solar. Right now, the Obedientiary should be there, checking that her three stitching novices had begun their afternoon’s work on a cope while there was any sort of light.
‘And what is our value, Mère Gisela?’ she asked. ‘Are we any better or worse than other such small houses like ourselves? How do we argue our value when we are less than twenty sisters?’
‘Indeed, and despite what we do every day, what we accomplish in the scriptorium and with our threads, it is apparently not enough.’ The Prioress sighed and rubbed at the smooth skin of her hands. One folding over the other, rubbing this way, rubbing that as if her young bones ached. ‘God help us. Despite the quality of our scribes and the skill of our needlewomen, such work is not enough to plead our cause. Which is why I say we need a relic.’

Prue Batten’s wonderful array of characters, from the non-worldly Sister Cecile to the war-weary Henri de Montbrisson, and their band of friends and allies, help to make Reliquary a truly memorable novel.

For any fan of medieval historical fiction, Reliquary is a tale not to be missed. It is one of those books that will have you reading ‘just one more chapter’ long into the early hours. A thoroughly enjoyable historical fiction thriller – it will have you on the edge of your seat from beginning to end.

Prue Batten has crafted a novel that draws the reader in and keeps a hold of them until the very end. It is impossible to put down!

And the best thing about Reliquary? It is the first in a new series – and I can’t wait to read more!

Reliquary is now available from Amazon.

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1 family. 8 earls. 300 years of English history!

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History… the interesting bits!