The bitter is that this journey is on temporary hold since I've finished this novel (and its series predecessors in my run-up to its release). And isn't it the journey that's the most meaningful aspect of it all? I don't find the completion of a book the prize--it's the immersion one places one's self in between the text and plot. And this one had me with the first sentence--one of the better ones to start in his novels:
Beakmand and Trenchard could smell the fire--it was still a mile away, but a sick desert wind carried the promise of Hell.