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Название книги: Bladesinger
Автор(ы): Keith Strohm
Жанр: Фэнтези
Адрес книги: http://www.6lib.ru/books/Bladesinger-152408.html
Prologue
The Year of the Unstrung Harp(1371 DR)Deep among the jagged teeth of the Icerim Mountains-where wild winter winds shriek fell tidings and the snow-blasted dead claw at their ice-blue tombs-an old woman sang. Harsh-throated and cruel, the terrible song echoed among the frost-rimed boulders, not drowned out by the wind but amplified, carried like the rumor of war or pestilence, until even the iron heart of the mountain trembled before it.Yulda, hathran and sister to the Witches of Rashemen, threw a gnarled hand against the stone wall of the mountain, and the deep rumble of an avalanche answered. A sharp bark of laughter escaped her. No going back now, the witch thought with a thrill. Snow, ice, and stone sealed the treacherous path she had followed-as she had planned. The spell was simple for one such as her, steeped in the ancient ways of the wychlaran. The very stones and trees of Rashemen were alive with the presence of ancient spirits known to her people as telthor. Those same spirits, shaped by centuries of
Название книги: Bladesinger
Автор(ы): Keith Strohm
Жанр: Фэнтези
Адрес книги: http://www.6lib.ru/books/Bladesinger-152408.html
Prologue
The Year of the Unstrung Harp(1371 DR)Deep among the jagged teeth of the Icerim Mountains-where wild winter winds shriek fell tidings and the snow-blasted dead claw at their ice-blue tombs-an old woman sang. Harsh-throated and cruel, the terrible song echoed among the frost-rimed boulders, not drowned out by the wind but amplified, carried like the rumor of war or pestilence, until even the iron heart of the mountain trembled before it.Yulda, hathran and sister to the Witches of Rashemen, threw a gnarled hand against the stone wall of the mountain, and the deep rumble of an avalanche answered. A sharp bark of laughter escaped her. No going back now, the witch thought with a thrill. Snow, ice, and stone sealed the treacherous path she had followed-as she had planned. The spell was simple for one such as her, steeped in the ancient ways of the wychlaran. The very stones and trees of Rashemen were alive with the presence of ancient spirits known to her people as telthor. Those same spirits, shaped by centuries of
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