Kings Of Albion

England, 1460: The War of the Roses. Rival factions – Lancastrians and Yorkists – are hacking each other to death in a conflict that only the English could name after a beautifully-scented flower. It’s not an ideal climate for tourists – but three exotic travellers from the Far East are not here for pleasure. They’ve come to find a missing kinsman. The English, however, are truly strange. Most of the indigenous population are of the cowed peasant variety whilst any noble who can’t trace his ancestry to Norman Conquest isn’t, really, an awfully nice chap. In between battles of the most astonishing brutality they convey respects instead of affection, make love strangely (and briefly) and amuse themselves by playing a game with an inflated bladder that is in everyway a war except it’s called ‘footie’. The Indians think they’re mad. They also have this horrible suspicion that one day they will rule the world… A wonderfully offbeat take on medieval England at its most brutal and savage, KINGS OF ALBION snatches history, imbues it with the spirit of Rider Haggard and Joseph Conrad, turns it on its head, invites scintillating speculation and, best of all, renders it into a fabulously readable novel.