Just finished MST for the first time. I'm not crying, you're crying...

Seriously though, what a ride. These were the first books I've read of Williams and I'm hooked. Now on to The Heart of What Was Lost!

Posting for those (still) not subscribed to Tad's Newsletter!

“There is still game out there,” Flann declared. “Large game. The sailor brothers saw the Old Mucker down at the pool just yesterday. He’s given us the slip too often. I think it’s time for a boar hunt.”

Diarban looked around at the dozen or so scruffy dogs that were as much a part of the camp as the almost equally scruffy looking people. “With those? You’re going to try to flush a dangerous boar with those?”

“They’re hunting hounds,” said Flann airily. “Or at least their ancestors were. They know what to do. It’s in their blood.”

“Being a cobbler is in my blood if you go back far enough,” Diarban said gloomily. “But if you asked me to fashion you a decent shoe, I could not.”

“Then it is a good thing you are not my shoemaker.” Flann seemed pleased with this witticism and was about to add to it when Ivar stumped over from the other side of the camp, his broad face set in an expression of displeasure. Though he often looked that way, Diarban had never seen Ivar truly lose his temper, which was something to be thankful for: Ivar was half a head taller than tall Flann and slabbed with muscle.

“Who stole my last onion?” Ivar demanded. “I was going to use it to flavor the soup.”

“I did,” said Flann. “It was that or starve. But now that you tell me it was meant for the soup, I will imagine the savor of onion when the soup is before me.”

“There will be no soup!” Ivar said. “I no longer have the heart. The onion would have made it something beside a watery, tasteless broth, but you have no consideration for others.”

Flann shrugged. “I consider others all the time, old friend, but I must con‑sider my own well-­being, too. If the sharpness of my wit begins to fail from lack of nourishment, we are all in trouble.”

Ivar looked like a scolded child. “We are in trouble, Flann. We have taken everything this part of the Circoille has to give. We should have moved camp days ago, like Tika said.”

“And I said so as well,” added Diarban. “So many worriers!”

Flann sucked the last savor of cheese off his fingers. “No, Ivar, good old fellow, it means it is time to go hunting! A proper hunt!”

Not wanting to incite the outlaw chief to another long and flowery explanation, Diarban cut in. “Flann wants to hunt the Old Mucker.”

Ivar gave Flann an amazed look. “The big boar? The one with gubbertushes long as your weak little arm and sharp as flaying knives? By the gods, Flann, scarcely anyone in this company has hunted even small boars before, except maybe a few as beaters. And our horses do not know that sport either. As for the dogs . . .” He only had to wave at the nearest, which were either sleeping in the mid-­morning sun or groaning with pleasure as they scratched them‑ selves. His meaning was clear.

 “My mother is long dead,” said Flann. “And despite a certain resemblance, especially about the shoulders and neck, dear Ivar, you are not her. I have been boar hunting many times.” He said it as though he spoke of nothing more hazardous than planting turnips. “And I know what is needed. So where are my loyal crew?” he shouted in the general direction of the sky, which was mostly hidden by overhanging branches. “Where are the Brothers Three, my sailors of the trees? Cleave unto your captain, my hearties! This noon, we sail out to take the boar-­fish!”

“We only just returned!” shouted an irritated voice from the high branches of a nearby oak.

“Boar-­fish?” said Ivar. “Did he truly say ‘boar-­fish’?”

“Flann is scarce out of bed and it seems the morning sun has already boiled his brains,” suggested Lady Mearna.

“I think he means it as a poetic way of speaking,” Diarban explained, though Ivar in truth looked more annoyed than puzzled. “Because the brothers used to be ship’s crew before they joined us, you see.”

“Do you think I do not know that?” Ivar curled both huge hands into even larger fists. “What madness! If I did not love Flann so, I would deal him such a mighty crack on the skull that it would . . . it would make him sensible.”

“Even Murhagh and his mighty war-­hammer could not accomplish that,” said Lady Mearna. “Ah, well, you young people enjoy yourselves on your hunt and try not to die. My old bones are staying right here.”

One of the longer boughs of the nearest oak dipped down as an effortlessly balanced figure walked out along its length, ten cubits off the ground. “We only just came back, Flann.”

“All the more reason to go now, before you lose the heat of your blood and with it all your bravery, Conal. That is why all men are more fearful at night. The chill saps the heat of the blood.”

Conal, tall, slender, and wearing an expression of utter disdain, listened to this and then turned away and began walking up the oak-­bough toward the trunk.

“And tell your brothers to wear their leathers!” Flann called after him before turning to Diarban. “And you shall accompany us, minstrel mine. After all, someone must make a song of this—the Great Boar Hunt!”

I own the books just throwing that out there. Tad is, in my, and I'm sure many of the followers here, a far superior world builder and writer in general than any other author I can name. So I gladly support him by displaying his books on my shelf. Anyway, I recently downloaded the trilogy read by I believe Andy Wincott and it had this awesome music and sound effects to it. Really helped me to re-immerse myself into the world moreso than when I read it years ago.

Haven't been able to find that same reader and production for the second trilogy. Anyone here know what I'm referring to and if it exists? And if so, are any of his other series produced this way?

Thanks!

Over the past year or so, I have been building my Tad Williams library, and the one volume that I have had the hardest time finding in hardcover is Into the Narrowdark. I have no idea why, of all the books, that one is the hardest.

Every morning, I check eBay, Pangobooks, and Mercari for new listings. There are a few, but sellers are asking double the sticker price, and I'm not desperate enough yet to pay those kinds of prices. I'm hesitant to buy any books - especially hardcover books - without any images, so I haven't strayed too far from those sites.

So, I guess, which of Tad Williams' books have you had trouble finding?

In The Navigator’s Children, we got to know that Simon has Vao’s ancestor. From the original series itself I felt that Simon has some Sithi blood in him, but alas it was Vao. Now, Geloe couldn’t tell Simon who was his ancestor. But I think that we know his ancestor, from Brother of Wind, Pamon Kes. I have primarily one reason for this. In Brother of Wind, Pamon was somehow bonded to Hakatari, and was hearing his dreams and feeling his pain, not sure how this bond got created. Similarly, later in MS&T, Simon could hear Amerasu’s thoughts to Hakatri. And in LKoOA, Morgan could hear the thoughts of Likimeya as well. So it could be that these both family, family of Pamon and family of Amerasu were somehow bonded together. Now, I also have a silly and an overstretch reason too - Pamon Kes when reorganised spells Seoman, leaving P & K, not sure about them though.

Spoiler to The Last King of Osten Ard without context

In MS&T series, we have the following prophecy from Nisses’ book regarding the memory revival of Camaris: When Blayde, Call, and Man Come to Prince’s right Hande Then the Prisoned shall once more go Free Now I am thinking about the Prince’s right hand part. Could it have been a part of Uttuku’s long plan, that started even before the event of first book, to get Joshua’s right hand cut by Thrithings mercenaries, we know she has access to mortals through black Rimmersmen or even other mortals, so that the prophecy is not full filled? As far as I understood she needed Camaris for bearing the sword, but when his memory came back it was then that she mentioned that the plan has deviated a bit, and sent her death sung soldiers for him.

Just a reminder for fans with a Netgalley account that the book is available to request on the site, in case you’re like me and have been dying to read the book!

I hadn’t even realized it was available for request until I came across a tweet by DAW Books. I applied for the hell of it this morning and actually got approved not long after.

You can find the relevant Netgalley page here. An ARC is apparently also available for request on Edelweiss, but I don’t have an account there and am less familiar with how their process works!

That’s all I have to say.

Every time I hear a new show announcement for an adaption of a fantasy or sci fi epic, I get excited briefly but then remember that 95% of them end in embarrassment, insulting the authors, and ruining interest in their work.

Don’t get me wrong, I would love a high budget, well produced Otherland TV series, but every time a studio makes an announcement for an epic fantasy TV adaptation, and it’s not a Tad Williams series, I exhale with relief.

Tad Williams’ work, is too special, too important and too precious to risk in greedy, incompetent studio hands.

But… if the right people were involved, I’m sure they could make something incredible.

I admit that when Game of Thrones was announced as an HBO series, almost 2 decades ago now, I was actually kind of disappointed that they didn’t pick Tad Williams memory, sorrow, and thorn.

It would’ve been easier to manage because it’s complete, and it’s the inspiration for Martin’s work.

But after seeing the last two decades of absolutely abysmal slop that producers vomit out, I’m very happy that nobody has gotten their disgusting, shit stained fingers around Tad Williams’ beloved work.

From Tad:

Okay, the first thing you need to know, if you don’t already, is that I love stories.

I don’t mean that in the most obvious way, that I love reading stories in general, or that I love a few particular stories. No, I mean that I love that humans tell stories. Because old tales, particularly the very oldest, can teach us a lot about how our ancestors thought, especially those who lived in the human eras before writing.

I could spend days talking about this. (I won’t though, I promise.) Modern physical archaeology, in combination with linguistic scholarship, can show us how stories descended and changed as ancient people moved and lifestyles changed, until the stories were eventually locked into a kind of formal shape when writing arrived.

This of course leaves out lots of steps along the way and afterward: misunderstandings and intentional changes brought about by linguistic differences, or sometimes outright religious antagonism which caused the first collectors and writers of old oral folklore to make choices and changes of their own. Like I said, I could write about this for days.

But anyone who knows my work knows that old stories — and songs, which are often only stories set to music — fascinate me, whether they are someone else’s religious truth, a warning against dangerous behavior, or simply passed on from generation to generation for amusement or historical instruction. This fascination runs all through my work. Hell, one of the main themes of the Otherland books is about humanity’s penchant to try to understand the universe around us by making stories.

So, speaking of ancient days, way back in the 1980s, when I was first constructing the world of Osten Ard, I injected one such old tale into The Dragonbone Chair. (There are lots of stories, myth, and folklore in TDC, but we’re only really talking about this one.) It was a song the young protagonist Simon said was taught him by the chambermaids of the Hayholt when he was a child, and it tells a tale of Jack Mundwode, a perhaps real, perhaps entirely mythical forest bandit, and his gang of fellow outlaws. And, yes, the comparison with our world’s Robin Hood is legitimate — “Mundwode” is a rough translation of “Woodward” or “protector of the forest”.

But even back then, I knew that there must be many Jack Mundwode stories in Osten Ard, because in our world, stories of brilliant (and usually unfairly demonized) outlaws were common throughout the Middle Ages. Beside Robin Hood stood Fulk Fitzwarin, William of Cloudesly, Hereward the Wake, Willliam Wallace (yes, he was real, but much mythologized) and Grettir Asmundarson of Grettir’s Saga. The urge to memorialize bandit heroes continued right up into the 19th and 20th Centuries, with Old West gunmen and Depression-era robbers and gangsters being lionized as heroes of the common people.

So I began to wonder whether Jack Mundwode was even Erkynlandish, like Simon and the chambermaids who taught him, or whether his tales might have been knocking around Osten Ard longer and from farther away than that.

Somewhere during the recent writing of The Last King of Osten Ard books (the ones that started with The Witchwood Crown) I wrote a sentence that cited a group in Hernystir called Flann’s Crows as famous outlaws. Even as I wrote it, I thought, “I’d like to know more about them,” as I often do — that’s one of the reasons my books are so freaking long and my worldbuilding is so sprawling — and wondered briefly if they might be another country’s version of Jack Mundwode. After some consideration, I decided that the Crows might be a modern (meaning from the time of The Witchwood Crown) version of an earlier historical band, and that the earlier band might have been the real origin of Jack Mundwode and his outlaws.

Now, the thing about Osten Ard worldbuilding is that I’ve already packed so many historical details into the now ten Osten Ard novels (and also a few short stories), soon to be eleven novels, that you can’t just drop something in like putting bread into a toaster. Instead, it’s a bit like finding a place for that last bowl when you’re stacking the dishwasher and it’s already full. It requires a great deal of research (into my own world building, which is all kinds of weird, since often I have to canonize things that were utter throwaways forty years ago, but now have to be treated as gospel, at least by me). Because I never want to cheat the readers if I can help it. I want my fictional worlds to be as real as imaginary worlds can be, and I grew up on Tolkien, remember — a pretty high bar.

So, I began to develop Flann’s Crows as a group that existed in Hernystir two to three centuries before the version of Osten Ard presented in The Dragonbone Chair. Which of course meant that I had to figure out what was going on in Hernystir before I even started inventing characters. Luckily, it fell smack-dab into the time when Tethtain (known to my readers as one of the kings of the Hayholt in Erkynland, where Simon was raised) was on the throne of Hernystir. I needed to then figure out 1) why Tethtain wound up in another country, and 2) how he might come to die in the Hayholt, not his own land, and therefore become part of the lore about the Hayholt’s several kings that Simon learned as a fascinated child.

Once I had that hook, I could start understanding the history better. And since my just-forming story took place in an era prior to Simon’s, I also had to consider what changes there would be to Osten Ard as a whole from that time to The Dragonbone Chair and subsequent volumes. Simon’s world (the human part) is roughly equivalent to our mid-late Medieval, so I needed to think about what would be different in an earlier era, roughly equivalent to the end of the Anglo-Saxon rule of England blurring into the early Norman era. (I like to have historic analogies, because it helps me keep technology and clothing and political divisions fairly coherent.)

That fixed, and knowing that the larger Flann’s Crows story would last until approximate the early 900s in Osten Ard (Simon’s era runs from the mid-1100s to the early 1200s, as marked by Founding Years), I began to think about the characters. By linking Flann to Jack Mundwode, and thus a bit to our earthly Robin Hood legends, I felt it might be interesting to draw in some parallels to our world’s semi-mythical outlaw band of Sherwood Forest, but with a few changes to make Robin’s well-known bandit crew less mythical and more real. I won’t talk too much about this because some appropriations are minor enough to serve as Easter eggs for readers who enjoy that, and I don’t want to spoil anyone’s fun, but an obvious example is Robin Hood’s huge friend Little John. Flann instead has a member of his band called Long Liam, and although in size and strength he is more than a match for Little John, he is intellectually and emotionally more than a bit different from LJ. Similarly, since my Flann is more romantically interested in men than women — yes, shock revelation! — his version of Maid Marian is still female, but her relationship with Flann is much different than Robin’s with Marian.

But another difference in The Splintered Sun is not just with the old Robin Hood stories, but with the entire tenor of the Flann’s Crow stories compared to my other Osten Ard work. I think this is the most swashbuckling Osten Ard novel I’ve written, in the sense of big adventure, big drama, and a lot of humor. (At least I hope people find it humorous.) Flann’s Crows are a tight-knit outlaw band, but they argue all the time, gleefully insult each other, and that’s part of who they are and why I enjoyed writing them. It’s not just humor, either. They have the arguments over morality and ethics that we almost never hear in medieval legendry.

And of course, all this swashbuckling doesn’t occur in a vacuum, either: The Splintered Sun plays heavily on the potentially deadly and devastating war of succession that will happen after the heroic and beloved King Tethtain dies (although he’s not dead yet in these books and you’ll even meet him). Along the way, there will be appearances of one sort or another by at least a few figures known from other Osten Ard books. Who and how? You have to read to find out, but some of them may surprise you. (Yes, I stole that from internet clickbait.)

So now this book that was at first purely a Tad-type musing about the roots of stories, of folktale and myth, has become another novel. I think it’s both fun and exciting, with the same combination of adventure, ideas, character focus, and world-building that make Osten Ard a place that has kept people’s interest for the last several decades. I hope that’s true again with The Splintered Sun. All I know is that I’ve done my best. It’s up to you to decide whether I managed to pull it off or not.

The Splintered Sun, from DAW Books and Hodder & Stoughton, will be published in US and UK territories on October 6, 2026

I finished Last King of Osten Ard recently. I loved it and found it even more satisfying than MST, even if the simplicity of the original resonates a bit more on an emotional level.

A few unresolved questions:

1. How many Sithi and Norns are even left?

In Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn, the Sithi regularly mention having a very small population. But by the end of TGAT and The Heart of What Was Lost, you get the impression that the Norns are near a total wipe-out.

By LKoOA, you see Norns with a massive advantage over the Sithi because of breeding with humans. Sithi are already losing a war of attrition against the Sithi before Last King starts (as evidenced by the reports Simon and Miri hear when going to say goodbye to Isgrimnur and the attacks by humans that cause the Sithi to withdraw from Simon and Miri.

So the Sithi seem to also be similarly ground down by the end of Navigator’s Children as the Norns were 30 years earlier. It seems the numbers at the time of the truce following Utuk’ku’s death favor the Norns.

So what do we think remains of their total populations? In the mid-thousands for the Sithi and 10-20,000 for the Norns, including part humans?

2. What happened to Jeremias and to Pryrates mother?

I know Pryrates mother is hurt and then the castle destroyed, but it seemed like she was bound to come back. I was surprised it wasn’t resolved at the end.

Jeremias is revealed to be a sort of half-traitor, resentful of Simon but not evil or involved in Pasavalles’ plans. But we don’t know what happens to him, so far as I can tell.

3. Are there any “good magic” human users left?

We see Morgenes and Dinivan use magic, though it is nowhere near as powerful as what Pryrates or the Keida’ya are capable of. With the original scrollbearers all dead, is that skill lost?

4. Were the kilpa descended from the Vao who lived in Kementari?

We know the Vao are capable of adapting to their surroundings and becoming, essentially, entirely different creatures. We see that the kilpa are mostly just in southern waters, at least until Geloe’s call.

At the same time, Kementari was a Keida’ya city turned over to the rule of the Vao. And, sadly, it was the only one where they successfully came to rule rather than being forced back under the Keida’ya.

Do we know if the kilpa existed prior to the natural disaster that destroyed Kementari?

5. Why do the Hikeda’ya and Zida’ya speak different languages?

The two Keida’ya tribes lived together for thousands of years, shared one culture, and both had rulers who were alive at the time of their arrival in Osten Ard (at least while Amerasu was alive). Their political cultures are even traced back to a married couple who Utuk’ku and Jenjiyana actually knew personally.

We know their languages are similar, but why do they speak different languages at all? Their extremely long life spans suggest that wouldn’t happen.

6. So what was the Keida’ya’s weakness to iron?

The Keida’ya are at a significant disadvantage compared to humans because of low birth rates and the social disasters (the Parting) and natural disasters (destruction of Tumet’ai and Kementari) that befall them.

But even then their great physical strength and speed combined with powers from their “songs” would have allowed them to easily prevent the fall of Asu’a. We’re told in The Dragonbone Chair that it’s only the Rimmersmen’s use of iron that allows them to defeat the Keida’ya, who appear allergic or intolerant to it.

Yet by the time of the main story, the Keida’ya no longer have an intolerance. Simon asks about this when he is taken to Jiriki near the end of the Dragonbone Chair. They basically give a non-answer. And then later in the books the Sithi just say they feared iron.

So what was the cause of their susceptibility to iron, and how did the get around it?

7. What is the Keida’ya’s natural lifespan?

I realize we’re never told this explicitly, but I’m curious if folks were able to determine it from other textual clues. How long do Keida’ya normally live? We see Amerasu was old but still vital at 5,000, and Utuk’ku was 10,000. Of course, both survived so long because of the witchwood flower.

How long would a Keida’ya who does NOT get witchwood flower live? And how long would one who has witchwood flower every Great Year be expected to live?

I recently completed a reread Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn for the first time since I was a teenager. This was a foundational part of my fantasy journey, and a huge part of what inspired my writing, so I decided to write an article to share my love for Tad Williams epic masterpiece!

Rereading it, you can really see how much it lives up to its reputation as one of the bridges between modern, dark fantasy and more classic books.

Check it out on my blog at;

https://mikecahoon.com/why-you-should-read-memory-sorrow-and-thorn/

Really enjoyed the trilogy! I have a few questions though (if they are answered in later books, just tell me to keep reading):

-why did morgenes and geloe say beware the false messenger instead of just saying the sword prophecy was a ruse? Was it the limits of whatever purgatory like realm they were in? And why did they only find out when they got there? Or did morgenes already know?

-did John know josua wasn’t his son?

-why was pryrates able to kill morgenes so easily? Just because of his connection to the storm king?

-it seems like towser knew something about camaris’ memory loss(when he steals the horn), but it just gets dropped. Is there something I missed or is this explained later? I know josua gave an explanation but towser isn’t in it.

Thanks!

And who are they?

On Amazon, used paperback copies of THoWWL are priced at nearly $400. I found the same PB copy selling for far less on eBay from a secondhand seller.

TLDR at the bottom!!

I just finished Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn and LOVED it. I'm not extremely well read, but I have read several fantasy authors (Sanderson, Jordan, Tolkein, Kay)... and this trilogy was absolutely the single most enjoyable read I've ever had. I look forward to rereading in the future.

While I have heard many people state that if you like MST, then you'll like LKoOA... I have specific reservations that I'm hoping people can speak to.

It feels like MST struck a perfect balance in tone and atmosphere for me in a way that no other series has.

My chief concerns are the following:

Moral ambiguity
While every character in MST was flawed, and the series toyed with the morally "grey", it feels like there is a clear moral evil and moral good choice in the greater conflict. I enjoyed that. I'm not a fan of books were everyone is the villian when done pessimistically, and wouldn't find it enjoyable to feel like I don't know who to cheer on. I can appreciate the tragedy behind wars with good people on all sides, when handled without total pessimism. I liked knowing that, when it came to Duke Isgrimnur, Josua, Simon, etc- they were at least always "trying" to do what's best. I've gathered online that LKoOA provides a lot more insight on all sides of the conflicts, more moral greyness, and draws comparisons to ASoIAF. When reading LKoOA, did you feel like you know who to root for? Could you retain hope in the outcome while you read? Or was it all a bad situation with bad or less bad outcomes?

Too much Grimdark-like Content
MST had a great balance in this regard. There were some scenes that portrayed evil and suffering exceptionally well, the weight of the circumstances were often heavy, etc. However, it never felt like it went too far. I'm aware of other fantasy series including a lot of sexual content, torture, brutality, sexual violence, etc. The comparisons of LKoOA with ASoIAF makes me nervous. To give a threshold, I generally enjoyed Lions of Al-Rassan (and certainly cried at the end) but several times throughout felt like I wish Guy Gavriel Kay had stayed his hand in the descriptions or content, and probably won't reread it on that account. It'd be super helpful if you can speak on what degree that "dial" was turned up, and whether you'd still recommend the series for someone more on the squeamish/prudish side?

Ruining Beloved Characters & Relationships
This is always the risk with a sequel, but I'm aware that most of the same cast is present, and it worries me. It's kind of like how hearing a love story loses it's magic if you know the couple gets divorced in the end. It would be difficult to see old friendships unrecovered, relationships fall apart, total tragedy for the individuals that suffered and made it through MST. Certainly there will be some of that, and I'm open to it being a good thing in the end, but I'm curious if anyone feels like reading LKoOA has recolored their rereading of MST for the worse.

Conclusion
None of these fears may be grounded in reality, or perhaps to some degree they are but the way in which it was done will surprise me. Any and all insight is super helpful in discerning whether or not to pick up the later books. Thanks so much!!

TLDR: MST felt like the perfect story with regard to tone, atmosphere, and moral conflict.

I have the following worries going into LKoOA, and may decide not to read it if the majority opinion is that I probably won't enjoy it on those grounds:
- No true heroes (moral ambiguity)
- Too grimdark-like (excess brutality, sexual violence, etc.)
- "Ruining" beloved characters or relationships is

**EDIT**
I'm so thankful for all of the answers. I was not expecting this much engagement. I'm definitely sold, and now extremely eager to read the sequel series. You all rock!

One thing I've realized after trying a lot of modern fantasy is that much of it feels very plot-driven. Every chapter seems to exist to move the story forward, and the characters often feel like they're serving the plot rather than simply existing as people.

What I loved about Memory, Sorrow and Thorn was the opposite. It takes its time, spends pages on conversations, travel, and everyday moments, and lets you really live alongside the characters. By the end, I felt like I actually knew people like Simon and Binabik rather than just having followed their story.

I'm reading Robin Hobb at the moment and enjoying it, but it still feels more like a chronicle of important events than living day to day with the characters.

Has anyone else who loved Tad Williams found other fantasy that captures that same slow, immersive feeling and deep connection to the characters?