"Michael Moorcock - Elric 03 - The Weird Of The White Wolf" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moorcock Michael)

ProloguePrologue

THE DREAM OF EARL AUBEC

In which we learn something of how the-
Age of the Young Kingdoms emerged
and of the part played by the Dark Lady,
Myshella, whose fate would later be in-
tertwined with that of Elric of Melnibone

From the glassless window of the stone tower it was
possible to see the wide river winding off between
loose, brown banks, through the heaped terrain of
solid green copses which blended very gradually into
the mass of the forest proper. And out of the forest,
the cliff rose, grey and light-green, up and up, the
rock darkening, lichen-covered, to merge with the
lower, and even more massive, stones of the castle. It
was the castle which dominated the countryside in
three directions, drawing the eye from river, rock, or
forest. Its walls were high and of thick granite, with
towers; a dense field of towers, grouped so as to
shadow one another.
Aubec of Malador marveled and wondered how
human builders could ever have constructed it, save
by sorcery. Brooding and mysterious, the castle
seemed to have a defiant air, for it stood on the very
edge of the world.
At this moment the lowering sky cast a strange,
deep-yellow light against the western sides of the
towers, intensifying the blackness untouched by it.
Huge billows of blue sky rent the general racing
greyness above, and mounds of red cloud crept
through to blend and produce more and subtler
colourings. Yet, though the sky was impressive, it
could not take the gaze away from the ponderous
series of man-made crags that were Castle Kaneloon.
Earl Aubec of Malador did not turn from the win-
dow until it was completely dark outside; forest,
cliff, and castle but shadowy tones against the overall
blackness. He passed a heavy, knotted hand over his
almost bald scalp and thoughtfully went towards the
heap of straw which was his intended bed.
The straw was piled in a niche created by a
buttress and the outer wall and the room was well-
lighted by Malador's lantern. But the air was cold as
he lay down on the straw with his hand dose to the
two-handed broadsword of prodigious size. This was
his only weapon. It looked as if it had been forged
for a giant--Malador was virtually that himself--with