"Dennis L. McKiernan - Mithgar - Eye of the Hunter" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKiernan Dennis L)

"Stoke," he gritted, rage filling his breast, displacing fear.
The children looked with wide eyes at their sire, for well they knew
of the pursuit of Baron Stoke. Twenty years they sought the monster,
had Riatha and Urus and Tomlin and Petal. And the four companions
had at last run Stoke down, some ten years past, there at the North
Glacier. Aye, the children knew of the pursuit and its devastating
conclusion, with Urus and Stoke plunging unto their death in the depths
of an icy crevasse, a crevasse that slammed shut behind.
How could they not know? For in one way or another, all the
children had been named after Urus or Riatha. And on many a long
winter night in yesteryears, Tomlin or Petal had spoken of those bygone
days, had told their buccoes and dammsels of the deeds of their
namesakes, and of the monster they pursued.
And now their sire had named the fiend again: "Stoke."
"Mayhap, Pebble. Mayhap," replied Riatha, glancing at her sword,
hanging in harness from a porch rail newel post.
"A destiny?" blurted out Bear, the youngest. "This Lady Rael, she
foresaw a destiny affecting us? A destiny far beyond?"
Riatha turned her silvery eyes upon the stripling. "Aye, Bear, a
prophecy."
Now Atha spoke: "WhatтАФwhat did she say, this Lady Rael?"
Riatha looked at her namesake, the Waerling no bigger than an
Elfchild, though no Elfchild was she. Even so, Waerlinga resembled
Elfchildren in all respects . . . but for the eyes, for those of the Wee Folk
were large and jewellike, holding deep glints carried by no child of
Elvenkind.
Nevertheless, Riatha looked upon these Waerlinga and wondered if
it was this resemblance between them and the children of Elvenkind that
caused these Folk to be so beloved by her own kindred. For children of
Elves had not set foot on Mithgar for more than four thousand years,
since the Sundering during the Great War, since the last Dawn Ride, and
this filled Riatha's breast with a great sadness. Here on Mithgar, no
Elfchild could be conceived, none could be born; only upon Adonar was
this possible for Elvenkind. And although the Twilight Ride would bear
an Elf out of Mithgar and unto Adonar, the way back into this world
was sundered. Hence to leave Mithgar was perhaps to leave it forever,
for only at the end, in the last days, was it said that the Dawn Ride
would be restored. Even then it was not certain whether the way would
be open for any and all to come once more to Mithgar, or open for but
a single rider, a rider of impossibility, a rider bearing the Silver Sword.
 Regardless, there was now no way for any to come from Adonar
unto this Plane, and so, Elfchildren were no longer seen upon Mithgar.
And the Waerlinga were a poignant reminder of what had been lost.
Riatha shook her head to clear her mind of these fey thoughts as
Atha spoke again, the young damman rephrasing her
as-yet-to-be-answered question: "What did Lady Rael say in this
prophecy of hers, Lady Riatha?"
One by one, Riatha again looked into the faces of each, faces
reflecting curiosity and concern but not fear. "We were sitting in Arden
on the banks of the Tumble, Rael and I, playing at scrying through