"Michael Moorcock - Castle Brass 2 - The Champion of Garathor" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moorcock Michael)

- The Chronicles of Castle Brass

CONTENTS
BOOK ONE departures
1. Representations and Possibilities 13
2. Count Brass Goes A-Journeying 20
3. A Lady All In Armour 25
4. News From Beyond The Mountains 31
5. Reluctantly-A Quest 40
BOOK TWO
A HOMECOMING
1. Ilian of Garathorm 61
2. Outlaws of a Thousand Spheres 70
3. A Meeting in the Forest 77


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4. A Pact is Made 81
5. The Raid on Virinthorm 87
6. The Wrong Champion 94
BOOK THREE A leavetaking
1. Sweet Battle, Triumphant Vengeance 103
2. An Impossible Death 110
3. The Swaying of the Balance 117
4. The Soul Gem 121

BOOK ONE
DEPARTURES

1
REPRESENTATIONS AND POSSIBILITIES
Dorian Hawkmoon was no longer mad, yet neither was he healthy. Some said that it was the Black
Jewel which had ruined him when it had been torn from his forehead. Others said that the war
against the Dark Empire had exhausted him of all the energy he would normally need for a full
lifetime and that now there was no more energy left. And some would have it that Hawkmoon mourned
for the love of Yisselda, Count Brass's daughter, who had died at the Battle of Londra. In the
five years of his madness Hawkmoon had insisted that she was still alive, that she lived with him
at Castle Brass and bore him a son and a daughter.
But while causes might be the subject of debate in the inns and taverns of Aigues-Mortes, the town
which sheltered be-neath the great Castle of Brass, the effects themselves were plain to all.
Hawkmoon brooded.
Hawkmoon pined and shunned human company, even that of his good friend Count Brass. Hawkmoon sat
alone in a small room at the top of the castle's highest tower and, with chin on fist, stared out
over the marshes, the fields of reeds, the lagoons, his eyes fixed not on the wild white bulls,
the horned horses or the giant scarlet flamingoes of the Kamarg, but upon a distance, profound and
numinous.
Hawkmoon tried to recall a dream or an insane fantasy. He tried to remember Yisselda. He tried to
remember the names of the children he had imagined while he had been mad. But Yis-selda was a