Richard Morgan‘s hard-boiled, techo-noir was a breath of fresh air in the world of sci-fi; intriguingly, after five novels, Morgan has switched his attention to fantasy, a genre that has seen some refreshing new voices emerging over the last few years, writers who have moved beyond traditional swords and sorcery with their exploration of darker moral territory, unlikely heroes and subversion of traditions – Joe Abercrombie, K.J. Parker, Scott Lynch and Steven Erikson, to name a few. I am pleased to say that Morgan can be counted as an addition to this group of pioneers, and if his first fantasy effort is anything to go by, he has found a rich new furrow to plough.

The willingness to be different is apparent from page one – Ringil, grizzled former soldier, war hero, and master swordsman, is gay. It soon turns out that he is also the scion of a wealthy noble family; hence the beginnings of his ‘quest’ are delivered not by a wizard or a king, but by his mother. The hero of Gallows Gap may begin the book running a family errand, but he’s still a formidable opponent.

Archeth is a Kiriath half-breed, a dark-skinned reminder of the technologically advanced people who shared their lives and skills with humanity, then vanished, to attempt to voyage back to their own world. She’s gay too, and she has a bit of a drug problem. She’s a scientist, soldier and courtier in the Empire (why, in fantasy, are Empires always in the South?), and adviser on the Kiriath technologies left behind by her people. Now she has been sent to investigate the brutal raid on a provincial port town by strange beings, apparently impervious to harm, that has left scores dead and devastation in its wake.

Egar is a clan leader of the Majak horse people, nomadic herdsmen of the steppe. He is the Dragonbane, another hero of Gallows Gap and he is bored. He has had the taste of Southern life, and finds it hard to conceal his contempt for the limited horizons of his clansmen. He passes his time with women half his age, and pines for a more comfortable existence . He might not be looking for trouble, but it seems he has a talent for stirring it up anyway, and he will not stay with the clan for much longer.

Our three ‘heroes’ know each other from the war against the Lizard People, or Scaled Folk, which ended about ten years before the start of the book. There’s a lot of back story behind The Steel Remains, but we get very little of it – there is minimal exposition, so what we do find out about the Kiriath and the Scaled Folk, and the war where our heroes made their names, we do so gradually and subtly, with much left unexplained at the end of the book. As I understand it, this is the first volume in a trilogy so Morgan will have plenty of time to bring us up to speed, but what we do find out is tantalising (and dare I say, perhaps sets us up for a prequel, or some serious flashbacks in future volumes).

The plot concerns the Dwenda, a mysterious race of beings who have receded in to myth, and their apparent desire to return to the world of men – in his search for a cousin who has been sold in to slavery, Ringil discovers that a Dwenda is entrenched in the heart of the slave trade. but does not allow it to stop him investigating. Archeth quickly realises that the force that launched the raid she is investigating was also the Dwenda. Egar manages to evoke the interest of other, higher forces in the world; they intervene in his life and throw him, too, in to the path of the Dwenda, and of his old comrades Archeth and Ringil (who he refers to as “the faggot”).

As our heroes are brought together near the end of the book, to discover that the Dwenda die “just like men”, they form a first line of defense for a world that is not yet alive to the perils facing it. They set us up for a sequel, but unlike some fantasy tomes that are first in a trilogy, they do not leave us frustrated. In that sense, The Steel Remains functions as an effective stand-alone novel, even though you just know you will want to read more – a bit like the original Star Wars, it simultaneously works as an episode in a longer story arc, and as a discrete creative work.

It would be easy, when trying to bring something new to writing fantasy, to throw the baby out with the bathwater – but Morgan has succeeded in keeping the scope and scale of the best in the genre, while making it more realistic through the introduction of more complex, fallible characters, with vices, doubts and fears (I wonder what Tolkein’s Aragorn would make of Ringil). With his trademark hard-bitten, cynical characters, sex scenes that are more explicit than genre norms, and an effective, sparse writing style, Richard Morgan has really delivered the goods here, and I very much look forward to returning with him to the adventures of Ringil, Archeth and Egar Dragonbane.

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