WINNER of the John E. Weaver Award for Medieval Fiction, the Feathered Quill Silver Award for Spiritual/ Religious Fiction, Readers' Favorite Silver Award for Christian Historical Fiction.
This book, the second in the series, follows Balian as he struggles to reconcile warring factions within the Kingdom of Jerusalem while fighting the ever-stronger Saladin. It describes the fateful battle of Hattin and the defense of Jerusalem with an army of refuges, children and women that followed.
For readers tired of clichés and cartoons, award-winning novelist Helena P. Schrader offers nuanced insight to historical events and figures based on sound research and an understanding of human nature. Her complex and engaging characters bring history back to life as a means to better understand ourselves.
Particularly, her Jerusalem Trilogy, set in the Holy Land in the late 12th century, has won critical acclaim. Envoy of Jerusalem: Balian d’Ibelin and the Third Crusade won Best Biography 2017 from Book Excellence Awards, Best Christian Historical Fiction 2017 from Readers’ Favorites, Best Spiritual/Religious Fiction 2017 from Feathered Quill Book Awards, Best Biographical Fiction 2016 from Pinnacle Book Achievement Award and an Honorable Mention for Wartime/Military Fiction at the Foreword INDIE Awards. Defender of Jerusalem, won six literary accolades including the John E. Weaver Award for Best Historical Fiction: Middle Ages.
Visit http://www.helenapschrader.com or follow her blog: http://schradershistoricalfiction.blogspot.com for updates on current works, recent reviews and excerpts.
A picture is worth a thousand words -- but what if
As a novelist I must use words not images to describe my characters.
Here is an example, a description of the "Leper King" Baldwin IV of Jerusalem.
My intention with this description, of course, is to help the reader see the youth -- and also sympathize with him.
Defender of Jerusalem: A Biographical Novel of Balian d’Ibelin by Helena P. Schrader
Ibelin stepped up onto the platform and leaned over the bed. It was overflowing with cushions and comforters, the latter ridiculous in the summer heat, and the King lay on top of all, wearing only a thin cotton nightshirt. Even so he was sweating visibly, and his hands and feet, naked of bandages, were discolored. The fingers of his right hand were starting to deform as the leprosy consumed them, and he had lost several of his toes, so his feet were stubby and misshapen. His face, while untouched by the disease, was deathly pale and almost skeletal. His lips were chapped and dry and his eyes were sunken in their sockets, but they sought out Balian’s face as if they wanted to consume it. “Balian!”