In Winter’s Shadow, by Gillian Bradshaw. Book review

First published 1981. Edition reviewed, Sourcebooks 2011, ISBN 978-1-4022-4074-4. 410 pages. Uncorrected advance review copy supplied by publisher.

In Winter’s Shadow completes Gillian Bradshaw’s Arthurian trilogy, begun in Hawk of May (reviewed here earlier) and continued in Kingdom of Summer (reviewed here earlier). The central characters are Gwynhwyfar, her husband King Arthur, and Arthur’s chief commander Bedwyr. Other important characters are familiar from the legends, including Arthur’s illegitimate son Medraut and the warriors Gwalchmai (later Sir Gawain) and Cei. Fictional characters from the earlier books, including Gwalchmai’s servant Rhys and his wife Eivlin and Medraut’s companion Rhuawn, also reappear here.

After many years of struggle, Britain is approximately at peace. King Arthur and Queen Gwynhwyfar are beginning to restore some measure of prosperity and stability after the destructive upheavals of war. But although Arthur’s malevolent half-sister Morgawse is dead, the evil she set in train lives after her in the person of her son Medraut. Consumed by hatred, Medraut lives only to bring about the destruction of Arthur. Medraut’s first weapon is the shameful secret of his own birth. But it is the human frailties of Gwynhwyfar, Arthur and Bedwyr that give Medraut his second and most deadly weapon – one which may bring down not only Arthur but everything he has tried to achieve.

Although In Winter’s Shadow is billed as the third in a trilogy, it could be read as a stand-alone. Readers who have read the previous two will recognise events and people from them, and will pick up references to earlier incidents, but the main elements of the back story are filled in as necessary. Arthurian trilogies sometimes seem to fade by Book 3 or to sag under the accumulated weight of legend, but not in this case. I thought In Winter’s Shadow was the strongest of the three novels by quite a margin.

For me, the most compelling aspect of In Winter’s Shadow was the character of Gwynhwyfar, who narrates the novel in first person throughout. Gwynhwyfar as portrayed here is a fully three-dimensional character, with her share of human failings and her share of admirable qualities. She is intelligent and well educated, and sufficiently interested in the past to understand and share Arthur’s dream of recreating the best aspects of the lost Roman Empire, including impartial justice and respect for law. While Arthur is fighting battles, Gwynhwyfar is managing logistics and supply with a quiet fortitude that brings out the best in people and gets things done. Supply may be less than glamorous, but it is as essential as dashing tactics; as the old (apocryphal?) military saw has it, ‘Amateurs talk strategy, professionals talk logistics’. Arthur relies on her as much as on any of his warriors, and working together as partners in a shared task allows them to develop a deep and loving marriage. But the relentless immensity of the task inevitably puts a strain on their relationship, intensified by Medraut’s sly scheming.

The love triangle between Gwynhwyfar, Arthur and Bedwyr is completely convincing. No individual is entirely at fault, none is entirely blameless. They are three fundamentally good people who care deeply for one another, yet the conflicting demands of other loyalties, together with Medraut’s malice, conspire to twist their love into a destructive force. Gwynhwyfar is, naturally, at the heart of it, and her dilemmas, her choices, the consequences of those choices and the further dilemmas that follow from those consequences make for compelling reading.

The plot has few surprises for anyone familiar with the Arthurian legends. If anything, the well-worn tale makes the novel more poignant, as events rush to their inevitable conclusion and all the characters’ struggles to escape their fate merely serve to entangle them further. As well as the story of Gwynhwyfar, Arthur and Bedwyr, the tale of Gwalchmai and the boy Gwyn, begun in Kingdom of Summer, reaches its conclusion in In Winter’s Shadow. I noticed some deft references to other legends, for example the relatively minor character of Sandde Angel-face who appears in Culhwch and Olwen: “no-one placed his spear in him at Camlan, so exceeding fair was he; all thought he was an angel helping”. No doubt there are lots of other subtle references like this that I missed.

A plus point for me was that fantasy and magic play almost no role in the plot, much less than in the previous two books (This might explain in part why I thought In Winter’s Shadow the strongest of the trilogy). Gwalchmai still has his Otherworld sword and horse, but if they have any magical powers they are scarcely mentioned. Medraut is said to serve the ‘Darkness’, as his evil sorceress mother Morgawse did before him, but for the most part this could be taken as a metaphor for ordinary human vices such as cruelty and greed.

A sketch map at the front of the book is useful for following the characters’ journeyings, for those not familiar with the geography of Britain and Brittany, although not all the places mentioned in the text are shown on the map. There’s no Author’s Note in the advance review copy; I don’t know if there will be one in the final version.

Moving retelling of the Arthurian legend from the perspective of Gwynhwyfar, completing the story of Gwalchmai begun in Hawk of May and Kingdom of Summer.

October recipe: Stir-fried chicken wings with butternut squash

Butternut squashes are at their best in autumn, when their warm colour and rich flavour bring a welcome touch of comfort to offset the shortening days and the nip in the air. This spicy cross between a stir-fry and a braise uses butternut squash and chicken wings, and is a warming meal on a chilly day. It’s also quick to cook, ready in about 20 minutes after you’ve chopped up the ingredients.

Chicken wings are ideally suited to this recipe, because they are just the right size and thickness to cook in about the same time as the diced butternut squash or pumpkin. Larger joints, like chicken drumsticks, don’t work because they take too long to cook through. You could also use thickly sliced chicken breast or diced pork instead of the chicken wings.

Pumpkin works just as well as butternut squash, so if you’re planning to make a pumpkin lantern for Halloween and are wondering what to do with the pumpkin flesh, here’s a good use for it.

Serves 2

Stir-fried chicken wings with butternut squash

3 or 4 chicken wings, depending on size
Approx 12 oz (approx 350 g) butternut squash or pumpkin
Half a red or yellow pepper
Half a small onion or 1 small leek
Root ginger, approx 1” (approx 2 cm) cube
1 clove garlic
3 Tablespoons (3 x 15 ml spoon) light soy sauce
2 Tablespoons (2 x 15 ml spoon) cooking sherry

Halve the chicken wings at the ‘elbow’ joint. This is quite easy to do with a sharp and fairly strong cook’s knife. I find it easier to cut just to the lower side of the joint, where the wing has two small bones (the upper part of the wing has a single thick bone).

Peel the butternut squash or pumpkin and remove the seeds. Cut into chunks about half an inch (about 1.5 cm) cubed.

Wash the pepper, remove the seeds and cut into pieces about half an inch (about 1.5 cm) square.

Peel and chop the onion (or wash, trim and slice the leek). Peel and shred the ginger. Peel the garlic.

Heat about 1 Tablespoon (about 15 ml) cooking oil in a wok or large frying pan. Add the chicken wings in a single layer and brown on all sides.

Add the diced butternut squash or pumpkin, and stir-fry for 1-2 minutes until starting to colour.

Add the chopped pepper, onion or leek, ginger and crushed garlic, and stir-fry about 30 seconds.

Stir in the soy sauce and sherry. Put a lid on the wok or frying pan, turn the heat down, and cook gently over a low heat for about 12-15 minutes. Turn the chicken wings once or twice during cooking. It’s ready when the juices run clear when a knife is inserted into the thickest part of the chicken wings, by which time the squash or pumpkin should be soft.

Serve immediately with noodles or rice.

Locations: Edale, Derbyshire

On the far side another blind valley bit into the hills, and beyond it the fitful moon gleamed on a line of dark cliffs crowned by rocky teeth.
“That’s Kyndyr!” Lilla exclaimed. “Luned says there’s no way over it!”
Severa laughed, as clear and buoyant as the skylark’s song. “There is if you’re with me! That valley is Combe’s hafod, and I spent seven summers retrieving stray sheep from Kyndyr.”
[…]
“… a lung-bursting climb up an ever-steepening rocky valley that pierced the hillside like a sword slash…”

--Paths of Exile, chapter 14


“another blind valley bit into the hills”
View over the Edale valley from the south


Larger version of same photograph

This photograph was taken from the middle of the ridge that forms the southern rim of the Edale valley, and you can see how the uplands form a ring around the head of the valley, enclosing it. You can also see this from the contours in the topographical map link. There’s a road into Edale at the mouth of the valley in the east, but the only way out of the head of the valley is over the hills.



“a line of dark cliffs...”
Close-up of one of the gritstone edges overlooking Edale



“...crowned by rocky teeth”
Close-up view of one of the tors



“...retrieving stray sheep from Kyndyr”
Lamb perched on a ledge halfway up a tor on Kinder Scout, bleating piteously for someone to come and help it down.
(Yes, it did get down safely. After ten minutes or so the mother ewe arrived, they bleated back and forth a few times, and then the mother showed the lamb how to jump across to another ledge and then down to safety, probably the way it got up there in the first place).



“an ever-steepening rocky valley”
The upper part of Grindsbrook Clough. ‘Clough’ is used in Northern England for a steep or narrow upland valley. This is the route taken by the fugitive party in Paths of Exile as they climb out of Edale and onto Kinder Scout.


‘Combe’ in Paths of Exile is modern Hope (see map link at end of post). Hope is derived from Old English ‘hop’, meaning a small enclosed valley, particularly one that overhangs the main valley. In the early seventh century as imagined in Paths of Exile, the language spoken in upland Derbyshire is Brittonic (an ancestor of modern Welsh and Breton). So I translated the Old English ‘hop’ into its approximate Brittonic equivalent, ‘combe’ (spelled ‘coomb’ in Cumbria), also meaning a small upland valley.

‘Kyndyr’ is Kinder Scout. See earlier posts for pictures of the Kinder Scout plateau and some of its gritstone tors.

‘Combe’s hafod’ in Paths of Exile is modern Edale (see map link), the valley immediately south of Kinder Scout and separated from the Hope valley by the long upland ridge of Mam Tor and Lose Hill. Several of the hamlets in Edale have the name ‘Booth’, a Norse word meaning temporary shelter (related to modern Scottish ‘bothy’). I have imagined that Edale in the seventh century was used by the inhabitants of Hope for summer grazing in the valley and on the slopes of the surrounding hills. ‘Hafod’ is a Welsh term meaning something like ‘summer farm’, roughly equivalent to the Norwegian ‘saeter’ or Scottish shieling.


Map links
Scroll around to see how Hope and Edale relate to each other
Hope
Edale

Writing About the Anglo-Saxons: History and fiction in the age of Sutton Hoo

I will be taking part in a one-day event "Writing About the Anglo-Saxons: History and Fiction in the Age of Sutton Hoo", to be held at Sutton Hoo, Suffolk, UK on 23 October 2011.

No charge for admission. Book places in advance at Sutton Hoo Reception (01394 389700), or ask at Reception on the day.

Full details here

• Talks on aspects of Anglo-Saxon history and culture and the challenges of recreating the world of early mediaeval Britain in fiction and non-fiction


• Panel discussions


• Question-and-answer sessions


• Book signing

Participants:

• Carla Nayland, author of Paths of Exile, historical novel set in Anglo-Saxon Northumbria


• PM Sabin Moore, author of Stormfrost and Brightfire, historical novels set at Sutton Hoo


• Paul Mortimer, re-enactor and author of Woden's Warriors, a non-fiction study of Anglo-Saxon warrior culture


• Steve Pollington, author of numerous non-fiction works on Anglo-Saxon history and culture


• Connie Jensen, proprietor of Trifolium Books UK, publisher of historical fiction set in Anglo-Saxon England, including Paths of Exile and Bride of the Spear

Burgh Castle Roman fort: Cnobheresburg?

The remains of the Roman shore fort are by far the most impressive visible features on the site of Burgh Castle Roman fort, with three of the four walls and their massive bastions still standing to near full height (see my previous post for pictures). However, although the site may well have started with the Romans in the third century or so, it doesn’t appear to have ended with them. Archaeological evidence indicates occupation in the centuries after the end of Imperial Roman rule in Britain, and may even connect with some snippets of history.

Archaeology

A hoard of high quality glassware, of Roman and Germanic styles, was found buried in the fort (English Heritage) – see picture on the fort information board in my earlier post. The glassware is dated to the early fifth century, so must have been buried at some date after that (possibly considerably after, if the vessels were prized heirlooms kept for a long time).

The English Heritage listing record says that the field east of the Roman fort was the site of both a Roman military cemetery and an early Anglo-Saxon cremation cemetery, with several cremation burials discovered in 1756 (English Heritage). The report says “Most of the urns illustrated in the records are identifiable as having been of pagan Saxon type”. The report doesn’t suggest a date, but cremation cemeteries are typically associated with the fifth and sixth centuries. Stylistic dating, on the basis of changing fashions in the design of jewellery or other grave goods or the decorations on the cremation urns, can sometimes narrow the date range, but if the urns were excavated in 1756 that dating evidence may not have been recorded.

Inside the fort, an inhumation cemetery has been excavated in the south-west corner with the remains of a large timber building on the south side of the cemetery. The cemetery was radiocarbon-dated to the sixth to tenth century. In the north-east corner, traces of irregular oval timber structures were identified, associated with pottery dated to the mid-seventh to ninth century (English Heritage).

The south-west quadrant of the fort was later occupied by a Norman motte, constructed in the late 11th or early 12th century (English Heritage).

Bede

Bede mentions a site called Cnobheresburg, which was granted to the Irish monk Fursey by King Sigebert of the East Angles as the site for a monastery in around 633:

[...]Fursey set himself with all speed to build a monastery on a site given him by King Sigbert [...] This monastery was pleasantly situated in some woods close to the sea, within the area of a fortification that the English call Cnobheresburg, meaning Cnobhere’s Town.

--Bede, Ecclesiastical History Book III ch.19

The location of Cnobheresburg is uncertain. It was presumably in East Anglia, since King Sigebert was able to grant it to a monastery, and from Bede’s description it was some sort of fortification close to the coast. Bede’s phrase ‘within the area of’ may imply that it was a large fortification and the monastery did not occupy all of it. All this is consistent with Burgh Castle as a possible location for Cnobheresburg. The mid-seventh-century pottery and the sixth-to-tenth-century inhumation cemetery inside the fort are also indicative of occupation at the right sort of date, especially if the timber building beside the cemetery was a church.

However, there may have been other fortifications along the coast of East Anglia that would also fit Bede’s description and that have since been lost to coastal erosion (there was a Roman shore fort at Felixstowe, for example). Unless or until further evidence is found, the identification is open to interpretation.

St Foillan

Fursey’s brother St Foillan is said to have taken over as abbot of the monastery of Cnobheresburg and to have fled to Nivelles in what is now Belgium with the books, relics and remaining monks in 651 after Penda of Mercia invaded East Anglia and sacked the monastery (see Wikipedia article on St Foillan). If Cnobheresburg monastery was completely destroyed and abandoned in 651, this could be inconsistent with the date of the inhumation cemetery and the pottery at Burgh Castle, both of which suggest some form of occupation extending into the ninth or tenth century, well after St Foillan’s departure. However, it is possible that not all the monks left with St Foillan, or that others rebuilt the monastery after his departure (or that the story is unreliable; the source for it is a record from the monastery at Nivelles, and I do not know the date of the document or its reliability).

Cnobhere

Nothing is known of Cnobhere. The second element of the personal name is ‘here’, meaning ‘army’, so it would be a suitable sort of name for a warlord, and a warlord is the sort of person one might expect to be associated with a fort, but this is pure speculation.

Since the name Cnobheresburg was established by the time the site was granted to Fursey, Cnobhere (whoever he was) presumably pre-dated the 630s. It is perhaps likely that he was long gone by then, or he might have objected to having his fort handed over to a monk, although he may have been a party to the transaction for all we know.

Church of St Peter and St Paul

The church of St Peter and St Paul stands just north of Burgh Castle Roman fort, an attractive small church with a round tower. The listed building record identifies the tower as late 11th century, with the rest of the church being later (British Listed Buildings). See earlier post for more details.

If the building near the cemetery inside the fort walls was an early church, the church on the current site may have replaced it at some point, perhaps when the fort site became unsuitable or was taken into use for some other purpose. Since the inhumation cemetery inside the walls has a date range in the sixth to tenth century, somewhere in or after the tenth century may be a likely time for the church to have moved. There are many possible reasons why the church might have relocated. I can think of at least three, and no doubt there are others:

• The Viking raids of the ninth and tenth centuries, which hit East Anglia hard and may have led to abandonment of the monastery, with the church later rebuilt on a different site;


• Norman takeover of the fortified area for the motte and bailey castle, requiring any church/monastery/inhabitants within the walls to move to a different site;


• Collapse of the west wall of the fort – it is not known when the collapse happened, and it may have been sufficiently alarming an event to prompt relocation of the church in case the rest of the fort followed suit.

Interpretation

The various archaeological findings on the site of Burgh Castle Roman fort suggest a surprisingly long history:

• third and fourth century use as a Roman military base;


• hoard of expensive Roman- and German-style glassware, dated to the early fifth century and therefore buried at some (unknown) date after that;


• ’pagan Saxon’ cremation cemetery on the site of the Roman military cemetery in the field east of the fort, date uncertain but probably somewhere around the fifth / sixth century;


• traces of timber structures in the fort interior with pottery dated to the mid-seventh to ninth century;


• inhumation cemetery in the fort interior, radiocarbon dated to the sixth to tenth century.

Between them, these take us almost up to the existing church tower at the nearby church of St Peter and St Paul (eleventh century). Burgh Castle may not have been inhabited continuously, but it seems reasonable to infer that it was in use at least on and off over several hundred years.

The monastery mentioned by Bede that was founded at Cnobheresburg in the early to mid seventh century is an obvious candidate for association with the inhumation cemetery and the timber structures and pottery inside the walls. The dates are reasonably consistent, assuming that Cnobheresburg did not cease to exist when St Foillan left in 651, and an inhumation cemetery is the sort of thing one would expect to find on a monastic site, especially if the associated timber building was a church. However, the identification of Burgh Castle with Cnobheresburg is not proven.

If Burgh Castle is the site of Cnobheresburg, it’s an attractive speculation (but no more than that) to associate Cnobhere, who gave his name to the site at some date before the 630s, with the hoard of glassware and/or with the early pagan Saxon cremation cemetery identified in the field east of the fort. This field was also the site of a Roman military cemetery. This does not necessarily indicate continuity of occupation. Roman cemeteries often had tombstones and mausolea, some of which may have remained standing for a long time. It is perfectly possible that the people who used the cremation cemetery arrived on the site after the fort had been abandoned, recognised the Roman cemetery as a burial place – or simply as unsuitable for agriculture because of the standing remains – and used it as an appropriate place to inter their own dead. In this scenario, one could imagine Cnobhere as the leader of a group of Anglian raiders-turned-settlers (like the later Norse), who took over the fort and made it his base, either having found it abandoned or having evicted the previous inhabitants. However, the re-use of the Roman cemetery may also be consistent with continuity of occupation. The Roman garrison could have handed over to a replacement garrison of federate troops, who brought a different funeral rite with them. Or possibly the Roman garrison or their descendants simply changed the funerary rite they chose to use, possibly to reflect a change in their perceived identity. In such a scenario one could imagine the eponymous Cnobhere as the last Roman commander (the Late Roman Army had Germanic officers in high command) or his descendant, the sort of person who could have owned a hoard of expensive Late Roman glassware, deciding to go into business for himself as a local ruler when orders and supplies stopped arriving from HQ, and signalling his independent status by changes in social customs, including (but not necessarily limited to) the preferred funeral rites. Something similar may have happened at Birdoswald on Hadrian’s Wall, with a change in building structure to a warlord-style timber hall on the site of the fort granary, as discussed in earlier posts here and here. I need hardly add that this is speculative.


References
Bede, Ecclesiastical history of the English people. Translated by Leo Sherley-Price. Penguin Classics, 1968, ISBN 0-14-044565-X.
British Listed Buildings, available online
English Heritage listing, available online

September recipe: Plum sponge pudding

Late plums, such as the variety Marjorie’s Seedling, are still in season in September, and make excellent puddings. Plum sponge pudding is simple and delicious, and can be eaten hot or cold according to the weather. Here’s the recipe:

Plum sponge pudding

1 lb oz (approx 450 g) plums
4 oz (approx 100 g) sugar
4 oz (approx 100 g) butter
4 oz (approx 100 g) self-raising flour
2 eggs


Halve and stone the plums.

Grease a heatproof dish and put the plums in the bottom. The fruit should come no more than halfway up the sides of the dish, or the juices may boil over during cooking.

Cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy.

Beat in the eggs.

Stir in the flour, and mix thoroughly until smooth. It should just drop off the spoon.

Spread the sponge mixture over the plums.

Bake in a hot oven at around 180 C for 25-30 minutes until the sponge is risen and golden brown. Some of the plum juice will probably bubble up through the sponge during cooking.

Serve hot or cold with cream, ice-cream, natural yoghurt or custard.

If there is any left over, it will keep in an airtight container for two or three days at room temperature.

I usually expect to get about 6 portions out of this recipe.

Kingdom of Summer, by Gillian Bradshaw. Book review

First published 1981. Edition reviewed: Sourcebooks, 2011. ISBN 978-1-4022-4072-0. 329 pages. Advance review copy supplied by publisher.

Kingdom of Summer is the second in Gillian Bradshaw’s Arthurian trilogy, sequel to Hawk of May (reviewed here earlier). The story still revolves around Gwalchmai (Sir Gawain in the later legends), though it is narrated by his (fictional) servant Rhys ap Sion. Many of the characters are figures from the legends, including Morgause, her husband King Lot of Orkney, their sons Gwalchmai and Agravain, Morgause’s illegitimate son Medraut, Arthur’s knights Cei and Bedwyr, and Arthur himself. Maelgwn Gwynedd, historical king of Gwynedd in the early to mid sixth century, appears as a secondary character*. The central character, Rhys ap Sion, and an Irish servant girl called Eivlin are fictional.

Rhys ap Sion is a freeborn farmer, peaceably working his family’s land near the River Severn. When a wounded warrior, Gwalchmai ap Lot, seeks hospitality at the farm in a bitter winter, Rhys feels drawn to him and goes with him as his servant to Arthur’s stronghold at Camlann and then on a diplomatic mission to Maelgwn Gwynedd. There Rhys encounters Gwalchmai’s sinisterly beautiful mother Morgause and suave brother Medraut, not to mention their attractive Irish serving girl Eivlin. As Rhys learns more of the dark secrets haunting Gwalchmai’s past, he comes to realise that the schemes afoot threaten not only Gwalchmai but Arthur’s kingdom itself.

Fantasy is less dominant in Kingdom of Summer than in Hawk of May, a plus point for me. Gwalchmai still has his magical Otherworld sword and horse, and supernatural duels and healing miracles feature in the plot, but for me the strongest aspect of the novel was the interplay between the characters. Apart from Morgause, who is evil incarnate (as expected from her role in the previous book), everyone has a mix of strengths and weaknesses. Gwalchmai is at first sight the ideal hero of legend, brave, courteous and near-invincible in battle, but he is haunted by his not-entirely-honourable treatment of a woman several years earlier, and he is endearingly hopeless at practical matters such as obtaining food and shelter. Agravain is a complete contrast, brash, arrogant, inclined to casual violence and not given to thinking if he can help it, but also likeable in his ebullience. Medraut is a contrast again, charming, subtle and persuasive. The conflicts between the three Orkney brothers are sharply drawn, and test Rhys’s loyalty to Gwalchmai.

Rhys himself, as the narrator, is a central character in the novel, and the tale is as much his as Gwalchmai’s. A hard-headed farmer – both literally and figuratively – he is rather out of his depth in the world of warrior honour and Otherworldly weapons, and his down-to-earth common sense is both a support and a contrast to Gwalchmai’s rather abstract concerns. The Irish girl Eivlin is a delight. Her first line, on being asked where she got that kettle, is to reply, “A hen laid it in the rafters, having been affrighted in a coppersmith’s shop”, which sold me straight away. In her own way, she demonstrates as much courage and loyalty as any of the warriors.

There are two distinct plot strands, Gwalchmai’s search for the woman he wronged and Morgause’s evil schemes to destroy Arthur and all he stands for. The first is resolved – although there is, I think, scope for it to reappear – and the second is clearly setting up for a climax in the last book of the trilogy. I shall be interested to see how it plays out.

There’s a sketch map in the front for anyone who is unfamiliar with the geography of Arthurian Britain, although not all the place names are marked and Less Britain appears to be placed in modern Picardy and Normandy rather than its more usual location in modern Brittany. The ARC has no historical or author’s note, although there may be one in the finished version. Not that it matters greatly, because the Arthurian legends have been told and retold so many times that they have near-limitless scope for interpretation.

Second in an engaging fantasy trilogy retelling the story of Gwalchmai (later Sir Gawain) of Arthurian legend.



*Although Maelgwn is dated to the early to mid sixth century (died in 547), I’m not sure that Kingdom of Summer is intended as set in the same period; Maelgwn may have been displaced earlier in time to make him contemporary with Arthur’s heyday. The author’s note for Hawk of May commented that ‘the novel is only partially historical’, so chronology is not that important.