It seems that Morgon’s path is now set - whatever he decides, something seems to push him inexorably toward Erlenstar Mountain, home of the High One, where he hopes the riddle of which he is the center can be answered.

As they are on their way to announce that fact - Mathom, King of An, has vowed that whoever won Peven’s crown would have the hand of his daughter Raederle as well - their ship sinks under mysterious and terrifying circumstances and Morgon is washed up on a beach in Ymris. Deth also discovers that Morgon has won the crown of Peven, last king of Aum, one of the three portions of An, in a riddle game that lasted all night. His path begins when the three stars are noticed by Deth, the High One’s harpist, come to Hed to pay condolences on the untimely deaths of Morgon’s parents, lost at sea on the short trip from Caithnard to Hed only six months before. Morgon is also marked by three stars on his brow that somehow seem to be tied to a destiny that he has neither sought nor desires, although events seem to push him in the direction they want him to go. Hed, like the other kingdoms on the Realm of the High One, created its own laws and traditions during the years of Settlement, and its rulers have always embodied the peace and quiet - and lack of curiosity about the outside world - that is the essential quality of the island’s land law, that indefinable rapport, sensibility, that something that binds the rulers to their kingdoms and keeps the kingdoms healthy, all under the aegis of the High One, whose only concern, it seems, is the land itself.

Morgon is unusual in that he studied at the College of Riddlery in Caithnard, the first Prince of Hed ever to do so - in fact, he is one of the few ever to leave Hed. Morgon, the Riddle-Master of Hed, is the Prince of a sleepy little island that produces wool, mutton, plough horses, and beer. Even in a recent re-reading, the trilogy is a complex, subtle and evocative story that lends itself to much deeper examination than one might expect. I don’t think I’m particularly backward in terms of understanding what I read, and I was in my thirties when I first read the books (which have earned an unchallengeable place on my “reread frequently” list), and I knew there were things I was missing.

McKillip’s Riddle-Master Trilogy was marketed as young-adult fantasy when it was first published. I was surprised some while back to discover that Patricia A.

Riddle master trilogy