"The Reader's Companion Series 01 - The Odyssey of Gilthanas - Douglas Niles & Steve Miller & Stan" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dragonlance)

"Ah, Porthios ... he has a place in my tale, though our stories are not as intertwined as many brothers might be."
"To Kalaman, then?" prodded a younger elf, who introduced himself as Carranias, also of Qualinesti. "Was that not your fiefdom after the War of the Lance?"
"Indeed. I came to that city at the culmination of the Vingaard Campaign, the spring season of battles resulting in the defeat of Highlord Ariakas, the Dragon Emperor of Ansalon."
"You came at the head of the liberating army, did you not?" prodded Lethagas.
"As a part of that army ... my sister Laurana was the Golden General, appointed by the Knights of Solamnia to lead them in the triumphant campaign. I flew upon Silvara ... greatest, wisest, most beautiful silver dragon in all the world. Together we battled the wyrms of Takhisis, Queen of Darkness. We slew many powerful serpents of blue. And when the Dark Queen's armies fled Kalaman, Silvara and I came to rest in the city's great plaza. It was soon after our ultimate victory at Neraka that the people of Kalaman sent for me and asked me to be their Lord Mayor."
"But were you not a prince of Qualinesti?" asked Banatharl.
"Indeed, but that realm was the fiefdom of my brother Porthios. His rulership seemed secured, and it even bore splendid portents for the future. You will remember that shortly after the War of the Lance, he married Alhana Starbreeze, who was herself heir to the other elven realm, Silvanesti."
"She was a queen to Qualinesti as well," nodded the elder. "And the people held out great hope that she would bear a child to the king and queen-an elf who would bring the promise of the unification of our ancient race."
"True. And with my homeland thus in good hands, I had cause to use my talents elsewhere, to go where I was needed."
"And you were needed in Kalaman?"
"So it seemed . . . but still, it was not as easy as that." Gilthanas fell silent as the rest of the story unfolded in his memory. He could not speak of his love for Silvara, of the beautiful silver-haired elfmaid who had torched his heart into fire as if kindling it from chilly coal. She was his perfect lifemate. She should have been his bride and borne him children. ...
But then he had learned the truth: Though she could choose to look like a woman, with beauty so deep that it tore his heart, she was not an elf. In her heart and soul and true flesh she was a silver dragon. Silvara had lived for more years even than the decades-old elven prince. She was a creature of ancient might and nearly immortal wisdom. He had loved her, and he thought she had loved him, but their differences were too great. It had seemed to both of them that their lives had been ordained to be stories in separate books.
It had not been the silver dragon who had made the initial, fateful decision. Instead, the elf had turned his back... Gilthanas had sent Silvara away and turned his life to helping the humans who needed him.
For many years, he almost convinced himself that he had done the right thing.

*****

The other elves in the cell maintained a respectful silence, obviously aware that Gilthanas was reliving memories he did not wish to share. But the prince was conscious of his audience, of the tale he had started to tell, and so he drew a deep breath.
"Let me just say that my years in Kalaman went by in a blur... that I was effective there, I even dare to say popular. But I wasn't really needed. Nor did I find in the work the kind of usefulness that let me know I was doing the right thing. Instead, I grew more and more restless, and as the years turned to decades, I knew that I would have to leave."
"Did you know where you wanted to go?" asked Banatharl.
Gilthanas laughed ruefully, shaking his head. "It was only that fact that kept me in the city for as long as I remained ... thirty full years after the War of the Lance. But as time passed I became increasingly restless, longing for... for someone I had lost.
"History passed in the rest of Krynn, of course. I learned that my brother Porthios was in Silvanesti, working hard to drive corruption from that land, to clean the detritus left in the wake of the war-which war, as every elf knows, was particularly cruel to that land of our hallowed ancestors."
"It is said that the late Silvanesti king's nightmares became real," whispered the younger elf, Carranias.
"It is said truthfully," whispered another ancient elf.
"And when the realm's own regent, Konnal, failed to conquer the corruption, Porthios arrived. It was he who led the Silvanesti to victory in their own realm." Carranias asserted his knowledge of elven history, while the other listeners nodded in mute agreement.
"And as reward for his service," Banatharl said bitterly, "Konnal had him arrested, thrown into a prison cell and sentenced to death. I know this, for I flew with those who would have rescued him in Silvanesti... but even then, our lord took care to see that war was avoided between the two elven nations."
"Aye. But I knew none of this as I decided to visit my brother. I merely wished to see the hallowed kingdom he had restored and to learn from him about the lives of the rest of our family. It was with a sense of freedom, even exhilaration, that I departed Kalaman. I traveled by sea to Sanction, and then overland until I had reached the border of Silvanesti."
"Did you tell your brother you were coming?" This question came from Carranias, whose eyes had widened with his imaginings about these royal doings.
"No . . . fool that I was, I wanted to surprise him. Of course, if I had gotten in touch with him, he might have warned me away, or I might have been able to help him. As it was, Konnal's agents seized me before I had ridden many miles down the peaceful forest trails.
"Despite that bitter assault-or perhaps because of it-I still remember the wondrous sensations of my entrance into the elven kingdom: Silvanesti spread like a garden around me, with fragrant blooms drooping heavily from lush branches, trees sculpted into such perfection that they formed arches overhead, and a natural canopy that extended for miles. I came to a pond-a still pool that reflected the sky with mirrored perfection-and here I dismounted to enjoy an afternoon's rest beneath the shade of a lush evergreen.
"And this is where Konnal's agents took me . . . they rushed from all sides, threw nets, and beat me with clubs. Before I knew what was happening, they had made me a prisoner."
"Did they take you to the palace or to some prison in Silvanost?" Banatharl wondered, speaking of the capital of the realm and one of the oldest cities in the world.
"Would that they had ... but instead I was taken to a mere hole in the ground, a dirt-walled dungeon where I was the only prisoner, and my guards were picked from Konnal's personal agents." "Where was that place?"
"I did not learn until much later ... but I languished there for a long time. It turned out to be a dozen years, while so many things passed in the world beyond. My guards gleefully related the events I was missing: of Porthios shamed before the ruling Sinthal-Elish, of his arrest and imprisonment in the Tower of Stars." The prince's voice tightened. "They joked about the irony, boasted of how the two princes of Qualinesti were the prisoners of Silvanesti because they foolishly tried to bring the Qualinesti and Silvanesti nations together. My own fate, I was assured, remained a secret from the outside world..."
"While Porthios made his escape," Banatharl interjected.
"Aye ... Tanis Half-Elven and two loyal griffins, plucking Porthios from the high tower and bearing him to safety. My guards were infuriated by his escape-they beat me bloody in their vexation-but the cruel fellows gloated about the fact that my brother had gone away, and he didn't even know that he was leaving me behind. They also mentioned how Alhana, the rightful ruler of Silvanesti, had also been exiled."
Gilthanas drew a breath. In the silent prison, his elven listeners remained rapt.
"Of course, it was not long after that the Chaos War wracked Krynn-the summer of heat that marked the departure of the old gods, the vanishing of magic. That fact I encountered even in my cell, where the tiny incantations I had performed to make my imprisonment more tolerable-a glimmer of flame, a small cloak of warmth or coals for drying-all ceased to function.
"I tell you, good elves, that was the beginning of years when I felt utterly bereft. I longed for my homeland and convinced myself that I would die in that hole-that I would never see Qualinesti, nor the one I missed above all others, again...."

The Hill of Sol-Fallon, 11sc

The key turned in the lock with a harsher sound than usual, perhaps because this time it was twisted with anger, or perhaps gloating delight. Whatever the emotion of the person who unlocked the door, Gilthanas knew that this was not his usual jailor come with his repast of stale bread or vile stew.
Scrambling to his feet, the elven prince stood erect and glared at the shadowed hallway beyond. Years of confinement had paled his skin and, no doubt, weakened his muscles, but they had done nothing to break his spirit. And when he saw the one who had opened his door, that spirit compelled him into a furious rush-a wild attack of swinging fists and inarticulate curses.
Naturally, Konnal had not come alone. The two guards of Silvanesti's military governor stepped forward with upraised staffs. Gilthanas paid no heed, desiring only to get his fingers around Konnal's throat. But while he saw only the sneering face of his enemy, the guards did their efficient work, one knocking his hands aside with a sweep of the pole, the other cracking the prisoner across the skull with a blow that dazed the prince, sent him stumbling against the door and then slowly slumping to the floor.
"Your brother never displayed such rash immaturity," said the self-appointed leader of Silvanesti in a tone of gentle rebuke. "He had the grace to accept his imprisonment with dignity intact."
"I know that he escaped!" growled Gilthanas, dismayed by his own weakness and trying with bluster to cover up his frailty.
"You believe that old tale? In truth, I set him free ... I had no more use for him here. And perhaps you also know that I compelled him to return to Qualinesti, where he was treated as an outlaw-a traitor to elvenkind. Since then there have been rumors that he was killed during the Chaos War. I choose to believe them."
Qualinesti! Even the name of his homeland brought longing to the heart of Gilthanas. When he pictured the broad swaths of forest, the crystalline towers of his nation's capital, and the serene and beautiful elves who were his people, he needed all of his willpower not to allow his grief to show in his face and eyes.
"But now," Konnal's tone was lofty, gloating, "it is time to turn our attention to more immediate concerns. You will come with me."