Sworn Sword evokes a real sense of the immediate post-Hastings years when the irrevocable nature of regime change was not yet an implacable fact. In the darkest days after the Norman conquest the English tried to fight back, leading to a war-torn period of insurgency and reprisal. Set against this background is the story of Tancred, a household knight of one of the Conqueror’s magnates.

Scenes of fast-paced action give zest to the story, while well-judged passages of description allow more meditative, character-driven scenes to unfold an intrigue of great political significance in which historical fact and imaginative invention are skillfully intertwined. Personalities and experiences are sketched with precision and economy, giving vivid glimpses of how it felt to operate in military circles at a time fraught with conflict and bound by bonds of oath-taking and homage. Similarly, the built environment of the Anglo-Norman period, the abbeys, houses, cloisters, churches and towns, are evoked in rich detail with a strong sense of how it felt to live in them. But description and setting, while important in evoking Anglo-Norman lives, are foils to the central story. At the heart of Sworn Sword is a mystery which unfolds with a sure hold on tension and the reader’s interest.

First person narrative often presents difficulties to writer and reader alike, but this story unfolds effortlessly from a single viewpoint with a masterly grip. Tancred’s conciousness is expanded through memories and childhood recollections, giving depth to the character whose voice we hear throughout. It is important that we like him and despite being ‘on the wrong side’ and a trained warrior who will kill for his lord, he is both a likeable protagonist and a believable man of his times.

Dialogue in novels set in this historical period is fraught with obstacles and challenges. How do you get people speaking in a convincing diction without the whole thing sounding anachronistic or twee? Again James Aitcheson has an answer. His people speak out of their world in convincing ways and become credible characters, through both speech and action.

There is great tragedy in the fall of a city. From Troy onwards the pathos and terror of large-scale civic destruction rings through all epic stories. Here is the fall of Eoferwic, the place we know as York, since, in keeping with the sustained evocation of the times, James Aitcheson uses Anglo-Norman forms of the names of towns and cities. The part Tancred plays in this dramatic climax leads to a powerful conclusion of one adventure, and the beginning of another.

At home equally with battle scenes, descriptive narrative and intrigue, James Aitcheson has produced a remarkable piece of historical writing.