"Brotherhood Of The Sword - 04 - A Dark Champion" - читать интересную книгу автора (MacGregor Kinley)

For all my readers and for the support you give. Thank you! To the RBL women,
who provide me with a daily laugh and a reminder that we can all pull together.
For the women and men who play on my websites and who have waited so very
patiently for the Brotherhood books to begin.
To my family, especially my husband, who never lets me forget that love really
is the most important thing. To my friends, who have supported me through
everything, (Janet, Brynna, ho, Kim, Rebecca, and Cathy), and to Lyssa, May, and
Nancy, who let me take chances. Most of all, for my family and friends who are
no longer with meI miss you much.
May the sun always shine on you all, and here's a big hug until next we meet!



Brotherhood of the Sword



Prologue
^ ;
Come and sit with me a moment, friend and pilgrim, for I have a tale to tell
that many of you have never heard before.
It is one of honor and friendship. One of bravery and nobility. One of strength
and loyalty. It is a tale of boys who became men, not because they aged in
years, but because they walked through the very fires of hell, arm in arm, back
to back, defiant and bold with only one code of honor between them.
We all survive.
We all go home.
We are brothers unto the end.
It is said that the strongest steel is forged by Satan's fires. I have witnessed
this myself. For I was once one of their number. Captured in a land known by
many as Outremer or the Holy Land, and held as hostage by my enemies, it was
there that I found these amazing men.
There were fifty of them in my cell. Cramped and cold, tired, beaten, and worn.
But not defeated. Nay, these men could never be defeated.
Not by anything born of this earth.
Though I knew them for young men, and in some cases mere boys, they looked as
haggard as any old beggar. Their faces were lined by horror and starvation,
their clothes tattered and shredded, their bodies scarred and bleeding from old
wounds and new. Still, they fought on with a strength of will that amazes me
unto this day.
Out of fifty, five of them emerged as our leaders: the Wraith, who moved with
stealth and secrecy while he ran interference with our guards; the Scot, who
sacrificed himself for others so that they would not be punished; the
Widowmaker, who watched over us and planned our escape; the Sorcerer, who was
able to distract and steal whatever we needed; and the Abbot, whose scholarly
ways and unending faith reminded us that we were still human even though we
lived as animals in a filthy cage.
We named the five of them the Quinfortis, a Latin term that means the strength