"Jordan, Robert- WOT 4- The Shadow Rising" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jordan Robert)

The Shadow shall rise across the world, and darken every land, even to the smallest
corner, and there shall be neither Light nor safety. And he who shall be.born of the
Dawn, born of the Maiden, according to Prophecy, he shall stretch forth his hands to
catch the Shadow, and the world shall scream in the pain of salvation. All Glory be to
the Creator, and to the Light, and to he who shall be born again. May the Light save us
from him.
from Commentaries on the Karaethon Cycle Sereine dar, Shamelle Motara Counsel-Sister to Comaelle, High Queen of
Jaramide (circa 325 AB, the Third Age)


Chapter 1

Seeds of Shadow

The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and
even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In. one Age, called the Third Age by some, an
Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose on the great plain called the Caralain Grass. The wind was not the
beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was a beginning.
North and west the wind blew beneath early morning sun, over endless miles of rolling grass and far-scattered thickets,
across the swift-flowing River Luan, past the broken-topped fang of Dragonmount, mountain of legend towering above the
slow swells of the rolling plain, looming so high that clouds wreathed it less than halfway to the smoking peak.
Drag-onmount, where the Dragon had died-and with him, some said, the Age of Legends-where prophecy said he would
be born again. Or had been. North and west, across the villages of Jualdhe and Darein and Alindaer, where bridges like
stone lacework arched out to the Shining Walls, the great white walls of what many called the greatest city in the world.
Tar Valon. A city just touched by the reaching shadow of Dragonmount each evening.
Within those walls Ogier-made buildings well over two thou-sand years old seemed to grow out of the ground rather than
having been built, or to be the work of wind and water rather than that of even the fabled hands of Ogier stone-masons.
Some suggested birds taking flight, or huge shells from distant seas. Soaring towers, flared or fluted or spiraled, stood
connected by bridges hundreds of feet in the air, often without rails. Only those long in Tar Valon could avoid gaping like
country folk who had never been off the farm.
Greatest of those towers, the White Tower dominated the city, gleaming like polished bone in the sun. The Wheel of Time
turns around Tar Valon, so people said in the city, and Tar Valon turns around the Tower. The first sight travelers had of
Tar Valon, before their horses came in view of the bridges, before their river boat captains sighted the island, was the
Tower reflecting the sun like a beacon. Small wonder then that the great square surrounding the walled Tower grounds
seemed smaller than it was under the massive Tower's gaze, the people in it dwindling to insects. Yet the White Tower
could have been the smallest in Tar Valon, the fact that it was the heart of Aes Sedai power would still have overawed the
island city.
Despite their numbers, the crowd did not come close to filling the square. Along the edges people jostled each other in a
milling mass, all going about their day's business, but closer to the Tower grounds there were ever fewer people, until a
band of bare paving stones at least fifty paces wide bordered the tall white walls. Aes Sedai were respected and more in
Tar Valon, of course, and the Amyrlin Seat ruled the city as she ruled the Aes Sedai, but few wanted to be closer to Aes
Sedai power than they had to. There was a difference between being proud of a grand fireplace in your hall and walking
into the flames.
A very few did go closer, to the broad stairs that led up to the Tower itself, to the intricately carved doors wide enough for
a dozen people abreast. Those doors stood open, welcom-ing. There were always some people in need of aid or an
answer they thought only Aes Sedai could give, and they came from far as often as near, from Arafel and Ghealdan, from
Saldaea and Illian. Many would find help or guidance inside, though often not what they had expected or hoped for.
Min kept the wide hood of her cloak pulled up, shadowing her face in its depths. In spite of the warmth of the day, the
garment was light enough not to attract comment, not on a woman so obviously shy. And a good many people were shy
when they went to the Tower. There was nothing about her to attract notice. Her dark hair was longer than when she was