The Queen’s Poisoner by Jeff Wheeler Book Review

I listened to the audiobook of The Queen’s Poisoner by Jeff Wheeler narrated by Kate Rudd. I truly enjoyed this version and found it entertaining and it was one of those books that was hard to hit the pause button on when I  had to do something else. Luckily for me, this is the first book in the King Fountain series which meant that I had five more books to look forward to when I was done with this one.

Finding himself on the wrong side of a bid to shift the power in the kingdom of Kingfountain the Duke of Kiskaddon and his older son face death for their treason. This leaves his youngest son, eight-year-old Owen Kiskaddon, as the king’s hostage in the palace of Kingfountain where he will live trying to prove his worth despite the shadow of betrayal left by his father. With the promise of death gaining ground every day the only way he can survive is with the help of a mysterious woman who seems to wield power over life, death, and even the fate of kings.

The Queen’s Poisoner is a well-written fantasy novel with well-thought world-building and a magic system. If you enjoy books like Game of Thrones, Wheel of Time or games like Dungeons and Dragons you will probably enjoy this book and the series as a whole.




Excerpt from The Queen’s Poisoner by Jeff Wheeler Book Review

He gave Owen a contemptuous look and chuckled almost musically. “The youngest was chosen. As if that will help. The king is in a fury, as you can imagine. His leg still pains him from the battle injury. The doctors say it is healing, but you know he cannot hold still! I wish we could persuade him to stop pacing to and fro so he could rest proper. What news from Westmarch?”

Horwath’s expression did not change as they walked. “I will tell the king,” he said curtly.

Ratcliffe frowned, his nostrils flaring. “As you wish. Guard your secrets. The king has granted me leave to recruit even more Espion. If a baker’s wife complains about the king at breakfast, I will know about it ere nightfall. Ah, here we are.” He gestured grandly as they entered the great hall.

As he took in the massive space that had opened before him, Owen nearly stumbled on the carpet trim and had to catch himself. He stared at the huge banners hanging from poles in the wall, the vast ceiling held up by a latticework of timbers, and the gray windows set high in the wall. Some light streamed in through them, but not enough to provide any warmth or comfort. A few servants scurried around the room, carrying dishes and flagons of wine, and a huge fire burned in the hearth. Four fountains gave life to each corner of the throne dais, but the throne itself was empty.

“Where is the king?” Horwath asked. “Coming, man! Coming! We wait on his pleasure, not ours.” Ratcliffe looked almost giddy with excitement, as if he were about to enjoy eating a pie. Owen glanced at him worriedly, half-hidden behind Duke Horwath’s cape. Then there was a sound. The march of boots, but the step was uneven, almost halting. Owen crept further behind the duke, watching as one of the servants held open a door. A trumpeter raised a horn to his lips and called out a few shrill tones, announcing the entrance of King Severn Argentine, victor of the Battle of Ambion Hill.

The dread sovereign of Ceredigion.

Everyone in the hall rose to their feet in respect.