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When her father dies in battle, fourteen-year-old Thirrin becomes Queen of the Icemark, determined to defend her tiny kingdom from the most terrible invasion her nation has ever known.

This is the epic story of how she rallies her country and finds some extraordinary new allies: Vampires, Wolf-folk, giant Snow Leopards and - most precious of all - her friend Oskan, Witch’s Son.

Over 20,000 copies sold in hardback. Winner of the inaugural Ottakar’s Children’s Book Prize 2005.

Film rights now in production with Fox 2000. Screenplay by the Oscar–winning scriptwriter of Elizabeth. Rights sold in over 15 languages.

Reviews:

'Stuart Hill's dazzlingly confident debut about power and personal discovery...' THE TIMES

'A first novel with a distinctive and seductive voice ... ' THE INDEPENDENT

'Hill should win many new recruits to fantasy fiction among 10 to 14-year-olds.'  SUNDAY TELEGRAPH

'His original and quirky approach could yet make him the proper heir to Joan Aiken's crown.' PHILIP ARDAGH, THE GUARDIAN

Thirrin Freer Strong-in-the-Arm Lindenshield carried her names with ease. She was thirteen years old, tall for her age and could ride her horse as well as the best of her father’s soldiers. She was also heir to the throne of the Icemark. Her tutor might add that she was attentive when she wanted to be, clever when she bothered to try, and had her father’s temper.

Few compared her to her mother, who had died when Thirrin was born. But those who remembered the proud young woman of the fierce Hypolitan people said that Thirrin was her double. The soldier riding guard over her didn’t care about any of this. They’d been hunting in the forest since dawn and he was cold and tired, but Thirrin showed no signs of wanting to go home. They were following a set of tracks she insisted were werewolf prints, and the soldier was afraid she might be right. He’d already eased the spears in his scabbard and had been riding with his shield on his arm for the past hour.

Werewolves had been banished from the Icemark after the Ghost Wars in which Thirrin’s father, King Redrought, had defeated the army of the Vampire King and Queen at the Battle of the Wolfrocks. Probably the werewolf she was tracking was just a loner in search of easy hunting in the cattle pastures, but you could never be too careful. With any luck she could capture it, she thought, and take it back to the city as a prize. And perhaps, before it was executed, it could be made to give useful information about The-Land-of-the-Ghosts.

            Listen!’ Thirrin said urgently, waking from a pleasant daydream about winning her father’s respect and gratitude.

            ‘Just ahead – I can hear snarling!’

The soldier took her word for it and levelled his spear. ‘Pull in behind me,’ he said, forgetting all formality in the moment of danger.

But before they could move, the thick undergrowth that lined the path burst open and a huge animal leaped out. It was vaguely man-shaped but extremely hairy, and its face was a strange mixing of wolf and human. For a moment it stared at them, its eyes full of hate, then it charged. It easily dodged the soldier’s clumsy thrust and headed straight for Thirrin, but her horse was battle-trained and it leaped forward to meet the attack, lashing out with its steel-shod hooves.

Taken by surprise, the werewolf took the full force of the kick, but it only staggered back for a second before growling with fury and attacking again. By this time, Thirrin had drawn her long cavalry sabre and in one fluid movement she wheeled her horse about, leaned from the saddle and hacked deeply into the werewolf’s arm.