No one who reads this page-turner would believe it is a first attempt. In fact, it is Peter Portelli’s first book, and I have no qualms in calling it a bull’s eye achievement.

Portelli has a great flair for storytelling. He is excellent at creating a mental visual counterpart for his words, which is a massive plus for novelists. He lets the story flow without any patent push from his side, so we are carried away with the current and find ourselves immersed in an adventure, a love story, a war chronicle, unquestioning loyalty, treason and so on.

The narration flows like a stream. And all the reader has to do is follow the current and enjoy the experience.

But added to all this, Peter has done his homework very diligently. It is evident that he has read a good number of books and articles and consulted some scholars to write with such fluency about the Order of Malta, its departure from Rhodes, and arrival on this Island to experience a Great Siege, which threatened its complete extinction and its erasure from the course of history within barely 35 years of its arrival on Malta.

He has familiarised himself not only with historical facts and personages but also with marginal details, such as apparel, customs, and beliefs, which he inserts effortlessly as colour, natural elements and the correct setting for his narration. 

The author has avoided portraying a conventional De Valette as the good guy who loved Malta so much that he defended it with all his might or held great faith in the Maltese

The author has avoided portraying a conventional De Valette as the good guy who loved Malta so much that he defended it with all his might or held great faith in the Maltese. And Peter is correct. Before being elected Grand Master, de Valette spent some years in Tripoli as the Order’s Governor.

He was adamant that the Order should move out of Malta and transfer itself to Tripoli, and he sold this idea his superiors. In 1548, the Order accepted his entrenched belief that the knights were to vacate Malta for Tripoli in numbers of 50 every year until all the knights had entirely abandoned this Island.

De Valette also rallied support for this plan from the Pope, the King of France, and, it seems, also from Emperor Charles V. Then a ship was sent from France with a large sum of 7,000 scudi to help finance this venture but on its way to Malta, Dragut captured the vessel with all its crew and money. So, de Valette’s plans suffered a fatal setback. De Valette proposes. Dragut disposes.

Portelli subtly echoes De Valette’s harsh lack of confidence in the Maltese. It may surprise some that De Valette’s negative opinion of the Maltese is borne out in history: In his letter written during the Great Siege, on 29 June 1565, to Don García, the Viceroy of Sicily, de Valette states that the Maltese were without courage and ungrateful towards the Order; they could not be counted upon to fight the enemy and would recoil in fear when they heard a musket, let alone cannons which would kill their wives and children.

He even refers to the Maltese disdainfully, using the word ‘popolazzo’, riffraff, lowest of the low. Perhaps he was exaggerating purposely to pressurise the Viceroy to send very urgent military assistance. But if this were so, he could have invented other excuses rather than belittle the Maltese who were courageously assisting the knights against the Ottomans. 

At the same time, let it be said that De Valette himself, for example, refers to three Maltese, Biasi Raimondo, Masi di Bendo Bartholo, and Francesco Rosas, as courageous and tenacious fighters.

Thanks to research, a long list of Maltese names feature as heroes in the Great Siege. It is time we all acknowledge the solid participation of the Maltese in that dreadful conflict. 

Portelli also rightly crafts a harsh septuagenarian grandmaster who oozes energy and grit and proves to be the right man for the right job at the right moment. He also weaves into his story several Maltese heroes whose guerrilla activities were essential for success in the Siege.

He names Ċejlu Tonna, Antonio Cilia, Bendu Bartolo, Basio Raimondu and Giocomo Bonnici. He involves Toni Bajada, the legendary swimmer who swam across from Birgu to the other side and disguised himself in oriental garb to mingle with the enemy and obtain essential information for the Christian side. He also includes Luqa Briffa, whose sword was swift and deadly, as a leading protagonist in the story.  Hats off, Peter!

De Valette was indeed the authoritarian leader who bore on his shoulders the mission to defend Malta with all the possible astute ruthlessness until foreign military assistance reached the Island. And Portelli bears this out beautifully in several anecdotes in his book, especially when relating the Fort St Elmo saga.

De Valette was a man of contrasts. One who swore chastity but fathered children; a ruler who himself experienced slavery; a believer in the might and main of fortifications but who, as Stephen C. Spiteri, an expert in fortification, informs us, was the only Grand Master who failed to invest appropriately and suitably in fortification.

A man full of warts, but warts make us human, hence frail and erratic. As my friend Giovanni Bonello repeatedly demonstrates, history books and historical novels should not smoothen skin.

Portelli poignantly recounts the fate of Doctor Guzeppi Callus. He first describes how Callus criticised de Valette on the issue of some taxes during a Consiglio Popolare meeting in Mdina and proposed that the Consiglio should write to the King of Sicily on the matter.

Portelli recounts how the members of the Consiglio, perhaps slyly, convinced Callus that he should report the issue directly to the King of Sicily whilst the Capitano della Verga would meet de Valette and gently persuade him to change his decision.  Callus agreed, but De Valette intercepted Callus’ letter to the King of Sicily. The Grand Master was infuriated and condemned Callus to death by hanging. The Capitano della Verga was asked to go to Birgu and was shocked to witness the hanging of Callus. Then Valette slyly asked the Capitano della Verga what he wanted to discuss.

He beautifully crafts a spineless reply:  “The capitano della verga cleared his throat. “Your Eminence, I wanted to tell you that the Consiglio Popolare has received news of your plans to raise taxes. We fully support your efforts.”

This Callus story is related with panache. I loved the way Portelli weaves this story, but this is not documented history, though it is a very intelligently crafted possibility which makes a historical novel more appealing.

In reality, this tragic story does not arise from the documents of the Order but is based on a manuscript by Don Filippo Borgia of circa 1630, which has survived because it was copied a couple of times in the 18th century. But Borgia, who wrote the account about 70 years after it happened, erroneously reported the name of Callus as Mattew instead of the correct name Josep.

Mattew was the name of his adopted son. Various writers, such as William Eton, Domenique Miège, Ġan Anton Vassallo, Ramiro Barbaro di San Giorgio, and Ġużè Muscat Azzopardi, have related the story, basing themselves on the manuscript of Filippo Borgia.  

But it seems there are no surviving documents showing how and why Callus had irritated de Valette. Bosio is entirely silent. Very interestingly, Stanley Fiorini discovered that the minutes of the council sessions of the Universitas from August 1561 for a whole year, and the records of the court case, are all missing.

Did someone destroy them? This could be a topic for another Peter Portelli book.The author engages us with great interest in the epic Great Siege, respecting historical details but donning them with colour and some fictional characters, not to supplant what is true but to make it more vivid. It is a joy to follow how Peter relates attacks and defences, prayers on both sides of the fence, sufferings and joys.

He makes us painfully follow this tragic saga, take sides, pray for survival against all odds and feel our adrenalin rise when the last attacker disappears on the horizon. De Robles, Anastagi, Dragut, Toni Bajada, Piali` Pasha, De Guaras, Miranda, Colonel Mas, Medrano, Fra Broglia and many others tread out of history books and join the entourage of characters meshed together in Peter Portelli’s epic story, The Order.

But this book is also, perhaps more than just ‘also’, a love story, a much-suffered love story. Count Nikola, son of the sinister Marquis of Ħal-Muxa, falls irremediably in love with Maria, the beautiful adopted daughter of Luqa, both from a very low social stratum.

Philip Farrugia Randon speaking during the launch of the book.

The Marquis threateningly forbids his son’s love relationship with Maria but Nikola discards the  intimidation and pursues his love. He also joins Luqa, Maria’s adoptive father, to fight the Ottomans. The Marquis remains bent on destroying Maria and even furtively and dishonourably assists the enemy. This betrayal is brought to Valette’s notice, and Sir Oliver Starkey, de Valette’s Secretary, faces the Marquis, exposes his treachery and introduces him to a very messy end. The story proceeds at a steady pace. It never lulls nor wavers.

Its pitch is solid, and the sequence of scenes and episodes is well-timed, synchronised, and intelligently inter-connected. I shall rest here and not divulge any more, lest I ruin your excitement of finding your way through the ins and outs of this epic story.