By Paul Carrier
Marcus Didius Falco, the smart-assed "private informer" who ekes out
something vaguely resembling a living in Imperial Rome, has a lot going
on in The Iron Hand of Mars, the fourth of Lindsey Davis' Falco
mysteries.
Unfortunately for him, none of it is good.
In 71 A.D., Falco forgets his live-in girlfriend's birthday, so Helena Justina leaves in a huff and heads out of town, bound for parts unknown.
Titus, the power-sharing son of the Emperor Vespasian, has his eye on Justina, which has Falco worried that imperial goons may do him in to prevent him from patching things up with his true love - if he ever finds her again.
And on the job front, Falco gets a decidedly unattractive assignment from Vespasian. The emperor sends him off to the sometimes rebellious province of Germania to deliver a new standard (the iron hand of the title) to the troublesome Fourteenth Legion, whose native auxiliary troops had earlier defected to join rebels opposed to Roman rule.
That last bit sounds straightforward enough, until Falco learns that his real task is far more complex, not to mention dangerous and unrealistic. Vespasian wants him to find a missing Roman officer and win over key insurgents, including the priestess Veleda and the chieftain Julius Civilis (both of whom were real-life figures from the period).
Falco's traveling companion is a foppish imperial barber named Xanthus, who tags along claiming that he just wants to see the world. Has Titus assigned him to slit Falco's throat, thereby eliminating a rival for Justina's heart, while they're in the wilds of Germania?
Our hero later stumbles upon the corpses of two men whose murders may or may not be linked to his mission. Once he arrives at the headquarters of the Fourteenth Legion, he finds its officers to be surly and threatening. Not only that, but their commander has gone missing, which leaves Falco wondering if his disappearance is connected to the vanishing act of the officer Falco is looking for.
Davis is up to her usual standards here, with careful plotting, the crisp dialogue that is a hallmark of the Falco series and an ending that neatly ties up the many loose ends. As always, Falco's sardonic narration of his adventures, in the form of both actual dialogue and his own internal monologue, is a treat.
"It grieved me to be seen in public with a wraith like Canidius," Falco says of a disheveled imperial archivist. "He looked as if he had lost himself going to the bathhouse and three weeks later was still too shy to ask the way."
Similarly, the ever-cynical Falco is predictably jaded while musing on the supposed piety of Rome's Vestal Virgins. "Only Rome equated chastity with holiness," he thinks, "and even Rome installed ten vestals at a time, in order to give latitude for mistakes."
The backstory in The Iron Hand of Mars contains a fair amount of exposition about Rome's tangled relationships with the Germanic tribes, which slows the narrative's flow from time to time. But a fine supporting cast, including Falco's wayward young niece, some hapless army recruits, and an ill-behaved dog named Tigris, add an often comic touch to the proceedings, as Falco tries to successfully complete his mission - more for the sake of his fee than for the glory of Rome.
With a purse-fattening display of gratitude from Vespasian, Falco could buy his way into the "middle rank" of Roman society. That might make his hoped-for marriage to Justina, a senator's daughter, socially acceptable - if he can find her, reclaim her heart and, of course, survive his foray into the deep, dark woodlands of Germania.
Unfortunately for him, none of it is good.
In 71 A.D., Falco forgets his live-in girlfriend's birthday, so Helena Justina leaves in a huff and heads out of town, bound for parts unknown.
Titus, the power-sharing son of the Emperor Vespasian, has his eye on Justina, which has Falco worried that imperial goons may do him in to prevent him from patching things up with his true love - if he ever finds her again.
And on the job front, Falco gets a decidedly unattractive assignment from Vespasian. The emperor sends him off to the sometimes rebellious province of Germania to deliver a new standard (the iron hand of the title) to the troublesome Fourteenth Legion, whose native auxiliary troops had earlier defected to join rebels opposed to Roman rule.
That last bit sounds straightforward enough, until Falco learns that his real task is far more complex, not to mention dangerous and unrealistic. Vespasian wants him to find a missing Roman officer and win over key insurgents, including the priestess Veleda and the chieftain Julius Civilis (both of whom were real-life figures from the period).
Falco's traveling companion is a foppish imperial barber named Xanthus, who tags along claiming that he just wants to see the world. Has Titus assigned him to slit Falco's throat, thereby eliminating a rival for Justina's heart, while they're in the wilds of Germania?
Our hero later stumbles upon the corpses of two men whose murders may or may not be linked to his mission. Once he arrives at the headquarters of the Fourteenth Legion, he finds its officers to be surly and threatening. Not only that, but their commander has gone missing, which leaves Falco wondering if his disappearance is connected to the vanishing act of the officer Falco is looking for.
Davis is up to her usual standards here, with careful plotting, the crisp dialogue that is a hallmark of the Falco series and an ending that neatly ties up the many loose ends. As always, Falco's sardonic narration of his adventures, in the form of both actual dialogue and his own internal monologue, is a treat.
"It grieved me to be seen in public with a wraith like Canidius," Falco says of a disheveled imperial archivist. "He looked as if he had lost himself going to the bathhouse and three weeks later was still too shy to ask the way."
Similarly, the ever-cynical Falco is predictably jaded while musing on the supposed piety of Rome's Vestal Virgins. "Only Rome equated chastity with holiness," he thinks, "and even Rome installed ten vestals at a time, in order to give latitude for mistakes."
The backstory in The Iron Hand of Mars contains a fair amount of exposition about Rome's tangled relationships with the Germanic tribes, which slows the narrative's flow from time to time. But a fine supporting cast, including Falco's wayward young niece, some hapless army recruits, and an ill-behaved dog named Tigris, add an often comic touch to the proceedings, as Falco tries to successfully complete his mission - more for the sake of his fee than for the glory of Rome.
With a purse-fattening display of gratitude from Vespasian, Falco could buy his way into the "middle rank" of Roman society. That might make his hoped-for marriage to Justina, a senator's daughter, socially acceptable - if he can find her, reclaim her heart and, of course, survive his foray into the deep, dark woodlands of Germania.
