For awhile there, my frequent long drives back and forth from Houston let me rip through quite a number of audiobooks- so many that I still have a backlog of reviews to write- and I’d hoped that the end of those trips would mean that things would slow down on the audio front and I’d be able to catch up a little. After all, I only listen to audiobooks when I drive, and I don’t presently have a work commute.
With that in mind and with October approaching, I opted to take a nice detour into the worlds of Warhammer Horror with Dark Harvest, by Josh Reynolds. What’s Spooky Season without the spooky, right?
As it turns out, I missed the mark on two fronts.
First, with hockey season kicking off and three of my kids playing, I underestimated how many trips I’d be taking to the rink.
And second, I underestimated just how damn good this book would be, which found me squeezing in extra listening sessions whenever I could. From listening while watching hockey practice to listening while doing the laundry, I raced through this story with a week to spare before October even began.
Ahh well, it was a nice thought all the same.
Horror Folk
Not long ago as part of my occasional Beyond the Black Library series over on Tabletop Battles (where I look at non-Black Library books by Black Library authors), I reviewed White Feathers, Crimson Leaves. Also by Reynolds, this was billed as a folk horror tale set in the world of Legend of the Five Rings. While I enjoyed the book, in my review I did note that it didn’t quite live up to my expectations of folk horror, but rather was more in the supernatural adventure/detective vein.
Dark Harvest, on the other hand, delivered that vibe in spades. Set in Age of Sigmar’s Ghyran, the Realm of Life, Reynolds skillfully transforms a remote corner the lush, verdant plane into an oppressive green hell that’s as much a character as any in the book.
The story involves gang enforcer Harran Blackwood, a former and disgraced Warrior-Priest of Sigmar and ex-member of the Order of Azyr. After receiving a cryptic message from an old colleague, Blackwood makes his way to the distant, swamp-cradled town of Wald to find out what he knows and, if necessary, silence him forever.
Accompanied by Gint, a card sharp he met on caravan duty, Blackwood soon finds himself encountering suspicious, insular townsfolk, a capricious and erratic lord, a sadistic local sheriff, and the stirrings of an ancient and malevolent god beneath the soil. Like a hunk of meat tossed amidst the leopard eels infesting the swamps, he is beset on all sides as he tries to uncover the truth of what’s really going on in Wald- and why he was summoned there.
The Voice
Dark Harvest is brought to magnificent life by Jake Urry, who despite having a fairly expansive catalogue of narrative work availaable on Audible has only voiced two Warhammer books (the other being Black-Eyed Saint, by Dale Lucas).
Right away, I could tell I was going to be in for a very different experience. I’ve been well accustomed to a more heroic tone and timbre from audiobook narrators, which makes a lot of sense when dealing with the mainline stories of Warhammer. But Urry’s sinister vocal presence and slower, deliberative pacing were a perfect match for the book.
Typically when assessing narrators (especially for my first time hearing them), I look at two different elements of their delivery. First, how their natural ‘reading voice’ is, and second, what their range is when reading lines for other characters. Urry cleared the bar for both; his range of characters were notable not only because of the change in voice affect for each, but he truly inhabited the characters of Blackwood and Gint. Because the story is told in the first person, Blackwood of course is the ‘default’ voice of the book, and there’s almost a noirish detective element at work here. It’s riveting stuff.
When you match the right book to the right narrator, as with Robert Rath’s Fall of Cadia, you end up with a truly magical bit of Warhammer media. I found that to be the case here, and as a result Black-Eyed Saint is going straight onto my Audible wish list for the next sale.
Bits n’ Pieces (Possible Spoilers)
There’s a lot of parallels between this story and White Feathers, Crimson Leaves, making this feel very much like a Reynolds story in all the good ways. From lingering ghosts/geists that exist almost as mute spectators, to the idea of the land itself being a source of gloom and corruption, atmospheric mystery is something he excels at.
The rustic horror element was on point here as well, with tonal echoes of The Wicker Man, Children of the Corn, or even The Shadow Over Innsmouth. The fish-out-of-water1 visitor to an isolated rural community, one that keeps faith with the old ways, with things ancient and primal and doesn’t like to be disturbed… these may be common tropes in horror but Reynolds weaves them in with Warhammer with terrific effect.
I’d have loved to have seen this set up more adventures with Blackwood and Gint even if the story’s direction precluded this possibility. The interplay between the two was every bit as enjoyable as that of Callis and Toll.
Reynolds crushed it in depicting the gloomy, damp oppression of the swamp. It drips off of Urry’s every utterance, and as mentioned earlier is almost a character in its own right. That last time I saw this done so effectively was Fire Caste by Peter Fehervari.
Urry’s slower pace was a perfect match for Renyolds’ writing here, as he also takes his time in the story’s more descriptive passages. It never overstays its welcome, instead languidly setting scenes that serve to heighten the book’s delicious tension.
Even when the book was moving towards its conclusion at the end, Reynolds didn’t succumb to the temptation to race for a finish. Instead, you get one of the book’s best, most intense passages recalling the murder of a Stormcast Eternal.
I enjoy the Age of Sigmar setting, though it’s a bit higher fantasy than I tend to prefer. This was AoS at its most grimdark, and that might be one of the saddest casualties of the soft scuttling of the Warhammer Horror imprint.
Finally, while Urry has a very miniscule internet footprint (his personal website is no longer available), he did briefly feature on the audiobook podcast AudioShelf with an amusing recording of him attempting to narrate Edgar Allen Poe’s The Raven.
At some point if I get around to keeping a “Top Ten” favorite audiobooks, this one’s in with a bullet.
Or cornhusk antlers, take your pick.
Only upon an editing pass did I realize the serendipity of putting this phrase in immediate proximity to Shadow over Innsmouth