"Douglas Niles - Forgotten Realms - Viperhand" - читать интересную книгу автора (Niles Douglas)

Now he journeyed to the city at the very heart of this world. Why? He asked
himself the question that tore at him, but he couldnt be satisfied with the
answer. True, he saw no other alternative. But he didn't belong here!
Everything around him brought home the alien nature of this land. The
barbarism of Maztican religion shocked and appalled him.
But where could he turn? Sitting up and shaking his head in frustration, he
thought of his former companionHn the
22
VlPERHAND
Golden Legion. Doubtless they all wanted him dead by nowтАФcertainly that was
the desire of the dour Bishou Domincus and the quiet, menacing elven mage,
Darien.
He thought of his escape from the legion's brig, where he had been sent by the
Bishou in the man's grieving rage over his daughter's death. Hal escaped,
seeking the chance to redeem himself on the field. There he had found Alvarro,
ready to trample Erix into dust, consumed by bloodlust.
The choice then, as now, had been clear. He saved her and they fled, though
the act must surely now have branded him a traitor.
So he remained with these true companions, accompanying them to Nexal, to this
great city about which they both talked so reverently. He had, in truth,
nowhere else to go. But there was more, much more, to it than that.
He remembered the Bishou's daughter, Marline, slain by the sacrificial knife.
At one time, he had thought he loved her. Now he knew that her beauty, her
smile, her pleasant attentions had been food for his vanity, nothing more. She
had been a shallow, selfish girl and he a foolish knave. Though that thought
relieved none of the pain of her death, it gave Halloran disturbing notions
about his own life.
Once again his eyes fell upon ErixitI. She still tossed restlessly, and he
longed to take her into his arms, to hold her. \et he feared her reaction, and
so he only watched, feeling more helpless than ever.
But he knew now that he loved her.
From the chronicles of Colon:
In silent worship of Qotal, the Plumed Father, I remain a faithful observer of
doom.
Like the venom of a snakebite on the leg or on the hand or arm, the various
seeds of catastrophe gather in the outlying realms of Maztica.
Already the Payit have been conquered, subjugated by the invading men and
their brutal warrior god called Helm. The venom gathers in Payit, and of
course it will How through the blood of Maztica.
DOUGLAS NILES
And the Ancient Ones work their wrack, leading the blind priests of Zaltec
closer and closer to their own bleak destiny. The brand of the Viperhand
becomes their symbol, and like the spreading inflammation of poison, it
infiltrates and festers in the body of the True World.
Everywhere fractious differences divide the land. Kulta-kans strive against
Nexal; Nexal strives to conquer all Maz-tica. This divisiveness, too, is
toxic.
So grows the power of destruction, venom in the muscle and bloodstream
ofMaztica. And as is the way of such poison, it flows through the body of the
land, until soon it will gather in the Heart of the True World.