Conn Iggulden once again proves himself a master of historical fiction with Tyrant, the second novel in his epic trilogy chronicling the rise of Nero and the slow, sinister unraveling of Rome’s soul. This is historical storytelling at its absolute finest—gripping, intelligent, and darkly compelling.
The Roman emperors—Caligula, Claudius, and Nero—are vividly brought to life in all their terrifying complexity. Caligula’s madness, Claudius’s manipulation, and Nero’s chilling transformation are explored with a deft hand, but it is Agrippina who truly haunts these pages. Her portrayal is nothing short of chilling: equal parts political genius and unrelenting force of nature, she dominates the narrative like a specter, calculating and unstoppable.
The novel opens with a death—shocking and symbolic—and from there, the blood flows. Marriages become weapons, alliances turn to betrayals, and the corridors of power are painted with murder and manipulation. The plotting is taut and laced with tension, as Iggulden follows young Nero’s path from vulnerable pawn to the brink of monstrous power. The political machinations are as deadly as any battlefield.
There are strong echoes here of Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall and Philippa Gregory’s Tudor dramas—dense with courtly intrigue, psychological insight, and a sense that history is a blade turned constantly toward its own characters. Iggulden’s attention to historical detail is immaculate, yet he never sacrifices momentum for exposition. The research is seamlessly woven into a narrative that races forward with the brutal energy of the Empire itself.
If Tyrant is about anything, it is the cost of ambition in a world where blood ties can be fatal and love is as dangerous as hate. As Nero begins his twisted ascent, the reader is left in a state of breathless anticipation—and a fair amount of dread—for what is still to come.
A brilliant continuation of the series. Iggulden’s storytelling is immersive, visceral, and impossible to put down. I eagerly await the final part of the trilogy.
