Sailing to Sarantium (Sarantine Mosaic, Book 1) 
If you don't know Kay, you should. His pedigree is impeccable, starting with a well-loved fantasy debut, the Fionavar Tapestry trilogy (The Summer Tree, The Wandering Fire, and The Darkest Road), and a compilation he did with Christopher Tolkien called The Silmarillion. Sailing to Sarantium, the first half of the Sarantine Mosaic series, evokes his other historical fantasy titles, such as A Song for Arbonne and The Lions of Al-Rassan, and is a well-researched analog to the Byzantine Empire and fifth-century Europe--with all its political and religious machinations.
Despite its seemingly prosaic cast and quest, Sailing to Sarantium is a charmer, another Kay classic. As usual, the character descriptions are subtle and precise--the mosaicist, Crispin, is a shrewd, irascible, and intensely likable man who is fiercely devoted to his art but troubled by guilt and loss. Reluctantly surrendering to events, he agrees to travel to Sarantium to work for the emperor. ("Sailing to Sarantium," we learn, is an expression synonymous with embracing great change.) As Crispin moves from roadside quarrels to palace intrigue, Kay gracefully shifts perspective from character to character, moving forward and backward in time and giving a rich sense of the world through the eyes of soldiers, slaves, and senators. --Paul Hughes
Reviews
The book would not be true to its word if the plot were not Byzantine, so be prepared for intrigues, deceptions, seductions, and a crazy cast of characters. So set your sails now and enjoy...
The book is a bit hard to classify as it reads like historical fiction but includes some magic as well. StS has many good traits: It is well written, has interesting and well developed characters, creates a vivid and realistic sense of ancient history, religion and politics, and tells an intriguing story with good pacing that never falters. Unlike books by many of today's writers (Tad Williams and Neal Stephenson to name two), this book is well edited; the story is concise without long sections that drag on or lead nowhere.
Ultimately the mark of a good book is that when it ends, you still want more and that was definitely the case for me. As soon as I could, I went looking for more GGK books.
The only bad thing I can say about this book is that it had to end.
The novel ostensibly focuses on the provincial mosaicist Crispin, who is summoned to the Emperor's court in Sarantium. There he encounters various elements of intrigue surrounding his commission to build a mosaic in a grand new temple. Kay poignantly describes the subtle shades of light and glass that comprise Crispin's mosaic-laying art, as well as his muted anguish over the deaths of his wife and daughters from a plague. In Sarantium, Crispin faces arrogant nobles and devious schemers struggling for power. He holds his own in deliciously sly conversations with several nobles, including the Empress herself. Yet once the political intrigue heats up, threatening Crispin's life, the novel ends abruptly with no resolution.
Crispin is by far the most compelling character in the novel, but Kay bogs down Crispin's story with digressions. The fifty-page prologue, set decades before the events of the novel, is completely unnecessary. Two characters met on Crispin's journey to Sarantium, are virtually forgotten once he arrives there, displaced by a tangential plot concerning factions of chariot racers. Kay tells the major event in the last quarter of the book from several different characters' perspectives, but he slips further backward in time as he moves to each new one. This jumbled chronology slights Crispin's final and most important account. Kay's narrative voice often hovers above the secondary characters in languid prose, occasionally even using present tense. This hazy tone makes these characters feel far more distant from the reader than Crispin.
Kay's 'fake historical' Byzantium is fully developed, from the rural pagan gods to the uncertain future of the provincial queen to the various noble factions constantly at odds for power within the empire. The lengthy sections on chariot racing feel authentic, although that entire plotline is tangential to the story.
With the lazy pace and the sudden ending, _Sailing to Sarantium_ doesn't feel like a whole, complete novel. Rather, it feels like a long introduction to the sequel _Lord of Emperors_, as though both books were originally one large manuscript that was chopped in half. Crispin's story could have been told in one long book with far fewer digressions, and it would have been all the more powerful for it. Yet Kay's emotive characterization still places him well ahead of most current fantasy authors.
