It may seem odd to describe anything featuring Pat Mills' barbarian warrior Slaine as a feminist parable, but this is exactly what The Horned God is. This is Conan rewritten in the light of Robert Graves' The White Goddess.
Slaine is pretty much your standard barbarian hero, cunning, lusty and jaw-droppingly violent. In this last department he has the advantage of "warp-spasms", in which he channels Earth-power through his body--the first indication of the ecological and mystical interests which often underlie Mills' work. Having hacked and slashed his way through an assortment of previous adventures, Slaine has become king of his tribe, and now plans to rid the land of the demons that oppress it by gathering an assortment of magical items imbued with the power of the Earth Goddess.
So far, so fantasy-by-numbers. But there's more at work here--Cathbad, the druid who supposedly serves the Goddess, opposes anyone talking to her directly, and the demons' earthly base is on Tory Island--the elements of satire against church and state are clear. And when Slaine communes with the Goddess only to be told that he and his heroic ilk are, on the whole, a boorish disgrace, and that rather than destroy the! Horned God of his enemies, he must instead become his replacement; it becomes clear that the trappings of heroic fantasy are here to be subverted as much as celebrated. Which is not to say there's no room for ludicrously muscled axe men and enormous dragons to get thoroughly brutal with each other, and it's that balance that renders The Horned God so enjoyable. --Alex Sarll [via]