“To hunt that one is as wise as to go hunting a porcupine.”
“I cannot leave this alone, Nighteyes.”
“I understand. I am the same about porcupines.”
While the first two novels in Robin Hobb’s Farseer Trilogy were slow-burn character dramas wrapped in politics, Assassin’s Quest is exactly as the title implies; this is the story of a man on a journey.
I have to confess, I was a little wary going into this one, as quest narratives have never been my favourite. I’m far more partial to the dynamics of a static cast in a noble court than I am to adventures that move from point A to B, so it’s a testament to Hobb’s storytelling that she managed to keep me on board regardless.
This time around, our hero Fitz is out on his own, without place, purpose, or hope. The first part of the novel is a satisfying exploration of his recovery after the events of the previous book, and a peek into the broader state of the kingdom as the aftershocks leave their mark. While the previous two books frequently dealt with the governance of the Six Duchies, we rarely got a ground view from the perspective of the common folk. Hobb keeps Fitz’s quest engaging by having us meet a string of minor characters in the book’s first half, all of whom are spun into three dimensions in impressively short order as they grant some new insight into the kingdom’s social landscape.
One of the risks of a quest narrative is losing connections to the characters and storylines the hero leaves in their wake. Assassin’s Quest does suffer from this a little (I was sad not to see much of Patience or Burrich in this book), but through the news Fitz receives on the road, the omniscient vignettes at the start of each chapter, and his Skill-vision sequences, the plot keeps moving forward without any characters straying off the page for too long. Encounters with Regal’s servants ensure that our hateable villain is never far from mind, several companions join the quest for the long run, and a particularly thrilling first-act climax yanks the story in a fun new direction.
Probably my favourite aspect of this book is that it rarely remains static. My main hang-up with quests is that they offer minimal room for big-picture twists; when the goal is to get from point A to point B, you typically know that B will eventually be reached one way or another. For the first portion of Assassin’s Quest, we don’t even know what B is, and even after it’s established, it remains a nebulous and distant goal. The story keeps you guessing about exactly where we’re going and what we’ll find, which creates ample room for subplots along the way.
As I read along, I got the sense that Robin Hobb planned out most of the major story beats ahead of time, while many of the smaller moments remained spontaneous. For the most part, this worked well, keeping the novel fresh with surprises and a strong sense of cohesion. I did have some issues with the latter part, however, as the pace began to slow and long chapters wallowed in travel time and character exploration that didn’t alter the status quo as much as earlier segments.
Fortunately, this all picks up towards the end as the quest approaches its climax and we reach a wonderfully bittersweet conclusion. While there is some of the bombastic action you’d expect, the characters have always been the focal point of the Farseer Trilogy, and it’s with them that the true resolution lies. Some of the penultimate character scenes were among the best I’ve read, getting their hooks into my soul and drawing out all the satisfaction and sadness I could’ve wanted. The primary focus remains with the characters we’ve followed since the start of the trilogy, but there are a few new additions that managed to find a place in my heart too. I particularly enjoyed Kettle, the tough old traveller with a depth of compelling secrets who takes on the role Chade and Burrich filled in previous novels. I was as attached to her as the others by the end, and her resolution was among my favourites.
Another conclusion that felt particularly poignant to me was the fate of Fitz and Molly’s romance. My only gripe with book 2 was the unhealthiness of their relationship, leaving me questioning whether or not I was supposed to be rooting for them. I’m pleased to say that book 3 set those doubts to rest, affirming that their relationship came across that way for a reason, not because of any oversight on the author’s part.
While the overarching plot wraps up wonderfully, Fitz’s story (and that of one or two other main characters) doesn’t. There’s enough resolution to leave it where it is, but looking at the titles of Hobb’s more recent novels, I have a feeling she always planned to return to Fitz and the Fool. The book leaves behind an emotional void that holds narrative poignancy in its emptiness, yet there’s ample space there still to be filled. I’d be delighted to return to the characters of this trilogy again, and I’m thoroughly looking forward to continuing Hobb’s books in the future.
All in all, the Farseer Trilogy has been the best fantasy series I’ve read in years. This is a genre I’ve always loved for its potential, but it’s rare I find authors who manage to combine it with the character focus I adore. Though I found Assassin’s Quest to be slightly weaker than the previous two novels, it was still an excellent book and a thoroughly worthy conclusion. I grappled with whether I might give this one four stars rather than five, but the only measure by which it falls (slightly) short is in comparison to its own prequels. Alongside most of the books I’ve read, this is easily up there amongst my favourites.
Kelly River 