 | Haunting, powerful, and redemptive, Song of the Huntress takes place several generations after Lucy Holland’s fabulous debut novel, Sistersong. The two books are loosely related, though Song of the Huntress is a standalone novel. Powerful antagonists threaten the ancient kingdom of Wessex where most of the story takes place: One is the king’s jealous brother, who twists what others say or do to his advantage. He’s been cultivating political ties with other nobles and setting himself up as a more worthy ruler than the actual king. The other adversary is the Welsh Fairy King, Gwynn ap Nudd. Gwynn has spent hundreds of years plotting to seize dominion of the mortal realm and is about to initiate his final move. |
We experience this exciting adventure fantasy through three intriguing characters:
- King Ine of Wessex, who prefers to study history and perfect his laws, letting his warrior-wife Aethelburg fight his battles for him. He tries to ignore the growing rift with his wife, the conflicts within his court, and his brother’s antagonism.
- Aethelburg, warrior-queen of Wessex, who fights to keep the realm unified despite being criticized by the court for unladylike behavior. Her husband-king Ine’s lack of support infuriates her. Ine also ignores her when she warns him of his brother’s ill-intent.
- Herla, an Eceni warrior from the past cursed by Gwynn ap Nudd to lead the Wild Hunt with her band of women warriors on the new moon, killing any mortal they find.
 | Aethelburg is politically isolated and feels unloved and unappreciated by her husband, Ine, when the novel opens. She’s a passionate woman, but not particularly articulate. We watch Aethel struggle to speak her truth before the men of her husband’s court. As the story progresses, we get to appreciate her important contribution to the well-being of Wessex and enjoy her determination to navigate political alliances leading up to the final battle. When she gives a rousing speech to the assembled warriors, we see how her confidence blossoms when she whole-heartedly embraces her warrior role. Her conflicted feelings toward Ine (love, resentment, hurt, desire) add considerable depth to the tale. And her choices at the end of the book are both heart-breaking and absolutely perfect for her character. |
My favorite part of the story was the land magic, which the King of Dumonia inadvertently passes on to King Ine. Ine’s Greenman-like introduction to this magic thrills:
 | “He is on his knees, the floorboards rough between his palms. And then all he sees are trees. Branches wind around his limbs; he bucks, twisting viciously to break free. He gasps for breath, but instead of air, chill earth pours into him, filling him with root and loam until his bones must surely break, flesh giving way before the power of it.” And a later passage: |
“The sound of a bow twanging fills the night, fills Ine’s ears. The anger inside him flares. Abruptly, he can feel the arrow it released, knows where it will strike the unarmed boy. The grain of its wood, the tree it once was part of, the roots that mingle in earth and water, webbing the land. They are veins, he realizes. Veins that lie beneath the skin of a vast being, whose chest rises and falls in perpetual motion like the tide, like the inescapable circle of seasons. All of it flashes across his mind in half an instant before he raises a hand . . . The arrow bursts into splinters.”
 | Ine begins the story as a coward, avoiding dissension and conflict at the expense of his wife’s standing, his own political power, and the well-being of his people. By the end of the novel he grows into his potential, both politically and in terms of the land magic he is destined to wield. At the novel's climax, Ine faces Gwynn ap Nudd and the power of the Otherworld. His greatest challenge, however, is owning up to the ways he has failed his wife, Aethelburg. His pain when he makes amends to her is palpable. Watching Ine find the courage to face his inner conflicts and external enemies inspires. |
Herla is inhuman during much of the story, consumed by the ferocity of the Wild Hunt and burdened by the thousands of souls she’s reaped over the centuries.
 | In Chapter 2, the Hunt rides as a battle is raging between mortals nearby. Herla swings her sword to cut Aethelburg down in the midst of battle, but it doesn’t go as planned: “A mailed figure catches Herla’s eye. The earth beneath the warrior is scuffed; she can see weariness in the set of their shoulders, in the way their weapon hangs low. Wheeling her horse, she charges, swings—and the warrior throws themselves flat, leaving Herla’s blade to cut the air. Momentarily stunned, she watches as they rip off their helm with one bloodied hand and eyes like chips of blue ice meet hers. Short fair hair dampened with sweat. A woman, fierce-faced in the lurid night.” |
Herla's fascination with Aethel reignites her humanity, which she both resists and desires throughout the story, sometimes preferring the oblivion of the Hunt.
The author deftly unfolds the growing romantic attraction between Aethelburg and Herla, their mutual desire and feverish heat gradually becoming undeniable. It isn’t until page 283 that they share their first kiss, told from Aethel’s perspective:
“. . . Aethel kisses her. Just a brush, a skim across the surface. But even so brief a touch leaves her light-headed. . . .
[Aethel] has never been kissed like this before. Not just her lips, but her whole body; a sweet, insistent ache in every limb. The palms of her hands burn where they touch the other woman. Her toes curl in her boots. When Herla draws back just enough to graze her bottom lip with her teeth, Aethel snatches a ragged gasp of air and closes the gap again.
. . . The fear she has carried so very long—that she does not deserve to be warm, to have the empty well inside her filled—is gone in an instant.”
The contrast between Aethel’s passionate desire for Herla and the cold emptiness she associates with her husband Ine forms the heart of a tense triangle between the three main characters. Herla recognizes the loving bond between the king and queen, though Aethel denies it. Later in the story, Ine struggles with jealousy when his beloved Aethel asks him to help Herla, the woman who loves his wife in ways he cannot.
“. . . Aethel kisses her. Just a brush, a skim across the surface. But even so brief a touch leaves her light-headed. . . .
[Aethel] has never been kissed like this before. Not just her lips, but her whole body; a sweet, insistent ache in every limb. The palms of her hands burn where they touch the other woman. Her toes curl in her boots. When Herla draws back just enough to graze her bottom lip with her teeth, Aethel snatches a ragged gasp of air and closes the gap again.
. . . The fear she has carried so very long—that she does not deserve to be warm, to have the empty well inside her filled—is gone in an instant.”
The contrast between Aethel’s passionate desire for Herla and the cold emptiness she associates with her husband Ine forms the heart of a tense triangle between the three main characters. Herla recognizes the loving bond between the king and queen, though Aethel denies it. Later in the story, Ine struggles with jealousy when his beloved Aethel asks him to help Herla, the woman who loves his wife in ways he cannot.
There is much to love in Song of the Huntress:
- Complex and endearing characters making hard choices
- Many varieties and depths of intriguing magic
- Surprising yet inevitable plot twists
- An exciting climax against impossible odds
- A poignant and satisfying ending
Other five-star books with awesome characters and land magic:
Sistersong (also by Lucy Holland), Spear, and The Queens of Innis Lear
For a deeper dive into tree-based magic, read Greenman
Sistersong (also by Lucy Holland), Spear, and The Queens of Innis Lear
For a deeper dive into tree-based magic, read Greenman
