"David Gemmell - The Complete Chronicles of the Jerusalem Man" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gemmel David)

Sitting by the window, looking out over Bournemouth's glistening streets, I tried to push the events of
the week from my mind. My mother was dying, I was waiting to be fired, and staff, who had joined
my team in good faith, were facing redundancy. After the fifth large Armagnac I decided to continue
work on the book. I knew I was drunk, and I also knew that the chances of writing anything
worthwhile were pretty negligible. But forcing my mind into a fantasy world seemed infinitely more
appealing than concentrating on the reality at hand.
The scene I was set to continue had a Nadir scout riding across the steppes. The intention was to
follow him to the top of a hill and have him gaze down on the awesome army camped on the plain
below.
I focused on the typewriter keys and typed the following sentences....
The rider paused at the crest of a wooded hill, and gazed down at the wide, rolling empty lands
beneath him. There was no sign of Jerusalem...
The walls of the mind came crashing in as I typed the word Jerusalem, thoughts, fears and regrets
spilling over one another, fighting for space. There followed a bad hour, which even Armagnac could
not ease.
But after midnight I returned to the page and stared down at it. It called out to me. Who is he, I
thought? What is he looking for, this Jerusalem Man?




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 THE COMPLETE CHRONICLES OF THE JERUSALEM MAN

And suddenly he was there. Tall and gaunt, seeking a city that had ceased to exist three hundred years
before. A lonely, tortured man on a quest with no ending, riding through a world of savagery and
barbarism.
The story flowed in an instant, and I wrote until after the dawn.
Through all the despair that followed in those next painful months I found a sanctuary in the company
of Jon Shannow. Through his eyes I could see the world clearly, and understand how important it is
to be strong in the broken places.
As a result Shannow will always be one of my favourite characters.
For a while back there he was the best friend I'd ever had.



David A. Gemmell Hastings, 1995




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 THE COMPLETE CHRONICLES OF THE JERUSALEM MAN

PROLOGUE


The High Priest lifted his bloodstained hands from the corpse and dipped them in a silver bowl filled
with scented water. The blood swirled around the rose petals floating there, darkening them and
glistening like oil. A young acolyte moved to kneel before the King, his hands outstretched. The King