"David Eddings - Belgariad 1 - Pawn Of Prophecy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Eddings David)

races of man rose up and came against the hosts of Angarak and made war on
them. The wars of the Gods and of men raged across the land until, near the
high places of Korim, Torak raised the Orb and forced its will to join with
his to split the earth asunder. The mountains were cast down, and the sea came
in. But Belar and Aldur joined their wills and set limits upon the sea. The
races of man, however, were separated one from the others, and the Gods also.

Now when Torak raised the living Orb against the earth, its mother, it awoke
and began to glow with holy flame. The face of Torak was seared by the blue
fire. In pain he cast down the mountains; in anguish he cracked open the
earth; in agony he let in the sea. His left hand flared and burned to ashes,
the flesh on the left side of his face melted like wax, and his left eye
boiled in its socket. With a great cry, he cast himself into the sea to quench
the burning, but his anguish was without end.

When Torak rose from the water, his right side was still fair, but his left
was burned and scarred hideously by the fire of the Orb. In endless pain, he
led his people away to the east, where they built a great city on the plains
of Mallorea, which they called Cthol Mishrak, City of Night, for Torak hid his
maiming in darkness. The Angaraks raised an iron tower for their God and
placed the Orb in an iron cask in the topmost chamber. Often Torak stood
before the cask, then fled weeping, lest his yearning to look on the Orb
overpower him and he perish utterly.

The centuries rolled past in the lands of the Angarak, and they came to call
their maimed God Kal-Torak, both King and God.

Belar had taken the Alorns to the north. Of all men, they were the most hardy
and warlike, and Belar put eternal hatred for Angarak in their hearts. With
cruel swords and axes they ranged the north, even to the fields of eternal
ice, seeking a way to their ancient enemies.

Thus it was until the time when Cherek Bear-shoulders, greatest king of the
Alorns, traveled to the Vale of Aldur to seek out Belgarath the Sorcerer. "The
way to the north is open," he said. "The signs and the auguries are
propitious. Now is the time ripe for us to discover the way to the City of
Night and regain the Orb from One-eye."

Poledra, wife of Belgarath, was great with child, and he was reluctant to
leave her. But Cherek prevailed. They stole away one night to join Cherek's
sons, Dras Bull-neck, Algar Fleet-foot, and Riva Iron-grip.

Cruel winter gripped the northland, and the moors glittered beneath the stars
with frost and steel-gray ice. To seek out their way, Belgarath cast an
enchantment and took the shape of a great wolf. On silent feet, he slunk
through the snow-floored forests where the trees cracked and shattered in the
sundering cold. Grim frost silvered the ruff and shoulders of the wolf, and
ever after the hair and beard of Belgarath were silver.

Through snow and mist they crossed into Mallorea and came at last to Cthol