The Book of Mordred

The Book of Mordred, Vivian Vande Velde, is based on the Arthurian legends.  It shines a bright light on Mordred, the final enemy of the legendary king.
    Alayna's wizard husband has died just a year past, when her daughter Kiera is stolen by the most powerful wizard in the land.  Four years later, Nimue has just escaped from a citadel of great evil.  Five years past that, Keira begins to foresee the fall of King Aurthur's regime, and with it the death of Mordred and his brothers.  This books weaves three tales together to tell a straw that spans the ages and carries us through the height of Arthur's time, and drags us down to the end.

I haven't finished this book yet. I'm only halfway through Kiera's part, but I like it.  It's a bit slow going, all in all, but pretty fascinating if you're a suckler for myths and legends of ancient times, like me. 
   A bit of background for those who aren't:  in Arthurian legend, or the legend of King Arthur (he reunited all of England after the so-called barbarians ruled it, I think, and created the Round Table), Mordred was Arthur's and his half-sister's, Morgana's, son.  Mordred was also Arthur's downfall, so usually he is portrayed in a bad light. 
    This book is different because it shows him as a hero.  A random knight who rescued a stolen child, a nobleman who took on a wizard to save a few pheasant boys, and a man trying to avenge his brothers.  Instead of being a treacherous, lying, squirt who hated Aurthur. 
     The book took a lot of my concentration to stay interested for the first ten pages, though, and it took a bunch of effort to get through the beginning of Nimue's part.  (It's divided into three sections:  Alayna's section, Nimue's section, and Kiera's section.)  I don't know why the plot line didn't hook me right away.  It is my type of story.  I think that the writing style is part of it.  Heavy, in a way I can't find the words to describe, if any of that made sense.  It isn't heavy on language, and only moderately heavy in description . . .
     Maybe this, again, was a case of not caring.  I couldn't find it in me to fret with Alayna, or to hurt with Nimue.  The only people I really liked are Mordred and Kiera; Kiera because she seems more alive than any of them, and Mordred because I find sullen, moody, and righteous knights likable.  Even Arthur is dull.
     Another interesting twist is that Lancelot is considered a bit of a villain.  Of course, he was Guinevere's 'boyfriend', and that was considered treason against the king and the whatnot, but he isn't smiled upon even before he is found out.  Usually Lancelot is considered the shining gem of the Round Table, next to Arthur, and everyone manages to forget that he stole away Guinevere.  Arthur, too, here, is outshone by a few others on the Round Table.  He doesn't seem like the king of the country, or the hero of the people, more of a background figurehead. 
    The backstabbing of some of the characters delight me.  Their evil nature and the lengths they will go to to get others on their side delight me, because I am just a twisted child like that. Reading the book is like watching a chess game, save that each player has a mind of its own. 
    It seems that one of the newest fads in children's literature, other than sticking characters in arenas and making them kill each other, is putting a new twist on an old legend.  Rick Riordan started it, and every person who wants to rewrite the old laws of magic is doing it too.  But this story doesn't shine a new light on an old situation:  It shines an old, dusty light on an equally old and dusty subject.  But wipe away the dust and you get a gleaming, shining, and entrancing story about the other view of Camelot.