"Iron Tower - 01 - The Dark Tide" - читать интересную книгу автора (McKiernan Dennis L)The Dark Tide
Book One of the Iron Tower Trilogy Dennis L. McKiernan -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- JOURNAL NOTES Note 1: The source of this tale is a tattered copy of The Raven Book, an incredibly fortunate find dating from the time before The Separation. Note 2: The Great War of the Ban ended the Second Era (2E) of Mithgar. The Third Era (3E) began on the following Year's Start Day. The Third Era, too, eventually came to an end, and so started the Fourth Era (4E). The tale recorded here began in November of 4E2018. Although this adventure occurs four millennia after the Ban War, the roots of the quest lie directly in the events of that earlier time. Note 3: There are many instances in this tale where, in the press of the moment, the Dwarves, Elves, Men, and Warrows spoke in their own native tongues; yet, to avoid the awkwardness of burdensome translations, where necessary I have rendered their words in Pellarion, the Common Tongue of Mithgar. However, some words do not lend themselves to translation, and these I've left unchanged; yet other words may look to be in error, but are indeed correct. (For example, DelfLord is but a single word, though a capital L nestles among its letters. Also note that waggon, traveller, and several other similar words are written in the Pendwyrian form of Pellarion and are not misspelled.) Note 4: The "formal" speech spoken at the High King's court is similar in many respects to Old High German. In those cases where court speech appeared in The Raven Book, first I translated the words into Pellarion, and then, in the objective and nominative cases of the pronoun "you," I respectively substituted "thee" and "thou" to indicate that the formal court speech is being used. Again, to avoid overburdening the reader, I have resisted inserting into the court speech additional archaic terms such as hast, wilt, durst, prithee, and the like. "And that is what Evil does: forces us all down dark pathways we otherwise would not have trod." Rael of Arden January 10, 4E2019 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER 1 THE WELL-ATTENDED PARTING л ^ ╗ With a final burst of speed, the young buccan Warrow raced through ankle-deep snow, his black hair flying out behind. In one hand he carried a bow already nocked with an arrow, and he sprinted toward a fallen log, clots of snow flinging out behind his flying boots; yet little or no sound did he make, for he was one of the Wee Folk. Swiftly he reached the log and silently dropped to one knee, quickly drawing the bow to the full and loosing the arrow with a humming twang of bowstring. Even before the deadly missile had sped to the target, another arrow was released, and another, another, and anotherЧin all, five arrows were shot in rapid succession, hissing through the air, striking home with deadly accuracy. "Whang! Right square in the center, Tuck!" cried Old Barlo as the last arrow thudded into the mark. "That's four for five, and you would'er got the other, too, if you'd'er held a bit." Old Barlo, a granther Warrow, stood up to his full three feet two inches of height and turned and cocked a baleful emerald-green eye upon the other young buccen gathered on the snowy slopes behind. "Now I'm telling all you rattlepates: draw fast, and loose quick, but no quicker as what you can fly it straight. The arrow as strays might well'er been throwed away, for all the good it does." Barlo turned back to Tuck. "Fetch up your arrows, lad, and sit and catch your breath. Who's next now? Well, step up here, slowcoach Tarpy." Tuckerby Underbank slipped his chilled hands back into his mittens and quickly retrieved his five arrows from the tattered, black, Wolf silhouette on the haycock. With his breath blowing whitely in the cold air, Tuck trotted back through the snow to the watching group of archers at the edge of End Field, where he sat down on a fallen log, standing his bow against a nearby barren tree. As Tuck watched little Tarpy sprint toward the target to fly arrows at the string-circle mark, the young buccan sitting beside himЧDanner Bramblethorn as it wasЧleaned over and spoke: "Four out of five, indeed, Tuck," Danner said, exasperated. "Why, your first arrow nicked the ring. But Barlo Stingy won't give you credit for it, mark my words." "Oh, Old Barlo's right, you know," replied Tuck. "I hurried the shot. It was out. He called it true. But you ought to know he's fair, Danner. You're the best shot here, and he says so. You're too hard on him. He's not a stingy, he just expects us to get it rightЧevery time." "Humph!" grunted Danner, looking unconvinced. |
|
|