Red Eve
1911
Red Eve wears scarlet like a war banner, and she needs every ounce of that defiance to survive what H. Rider Haggard has devised for her. Set in 1346 England, where the Battle of Créces and the Black Death wait in the wings like two kinds of doom, this novel follows Eve Clavering, a noblewoman bound by her family's ancient feud to a man she cannot love, and Hugh de Cressi, a merchant's son whose lineage carries both honor and impediment. Their love is forbidden by blood and station, yet it burns through the frozen Suffolk marshes with a stubbornness that feels almost reckless against the dying medieval world. But Haggard adds another character to the mix: Murgh, a supernatural specter who opens the novel leading a grim procession across the East, and who seems to shadow Eve and Hugh like a promise of the fate awaiting them. This is historical adventure with a gothic pulse, where romance fights for its life against war, plague, and the weight of centuries-old family hatred. Red Eve herself is the real achievement: a woman who chooses her own destiny even when the world offers her only one color to wear.
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“They knew nothing of it in England or all the Western countries in those days before Crecy was fought, when the third Edward sat upon the throne. There was none to tell them of the doom that the East, whence come light and life, death and the decrees of God, had loosed upon the world. Not one in a multitude in Europe had ever even heard of those””
— H. Rider Haggard
“Young sir, this merchant is in the right, and whatever his trade may be, his blood is as good as your own. After your brave words, either you should fight him or take back the blow you gave." Then he leaned down””
— H. Rider Haggard
“Enough," said Sir John; "though this is the first I have heard of such a war, for it would seem that you know more of King Edward's mind than I do. The light begins to fail, there is no time for talk. Stand clear, all men, and let these two settle it.””
— H. Rider Haggard
“proud and commanding was her mien and so terrible the import of her words, that these rough hinds shrank away from her and the woman hid her face in her hands. But Sir John thundered threats and oaths at them, so that slowly and unwillingly””
— H. Rider Haggard
