Fursey becomes Hild’s advisor and eventually her spy in the court of her sister’s husband Æthelric. Hild befriends an enemy, her Irish prisoner-of-war tutor Fursey, who teaches her the new and still uncommon skills of reading and writing, so that Hild can correspond with informants. Hild’s attention to details aids her growing awareness of politics when the overking dies and her Uncle Edwin stands a chance at the throne. I wasn’t surprised to learn that Nicola Griffith’s other writings include the Aud Torvingen mystery series. In fact, this part of the story appealed to me for many of the same reasons that the original Sherlock Holmes stories did: the protagonist appears to perform a miracle by observing a series of minute details and stringing them together into a series of logical inductions. She not only tells the king what he want to hear, she draws logical conclusions about situations and accurately predicts what is about to happen. As she gets older, Hild starts to learn the craft of prophesy, observing the world and people around her, figuring out people’s motivations and desires. It is a precarious position to be in, as any wrong move could result in their deaths. In Griffith’s telling, Hild is raised by a politically ambitious mother to influence an indecisive king. Hild follows the main character through her pagan childhood and conversion to Christianity at 13, up until the age of about 19.

The setting is beautifully medieval, replete with historical and culture details, and based very roughly on actual historical people. It’s a fictional account of the early life of St Hild of Whitby, a Catholic Saint responsible for spreading Christianity in Great Britain. Hild is a Lambda Literary Award finalist this year for Bisexual Fiction. If you like historical epics with a leisurely pace and detailed world building, and your only complaint is that none of those books have queer protagonists, then Hild is for you.

Hild nicola griffith review