"Springer, Nancy - Book Of The Isle 01 - White Hart" - читать интересную книгу автора (Springer Nancy) Scanned by Highroller.
Proofed by an Elf proofer. Nancy Springer The White Hart Book of the Isle 01 PROLOGUE Long ago, so long ago that the enchantment of the Beginning was yet on it, there was a little land called Isle. It might have been the world entire for all the people knew; vast oceans encircled it even as the thick-woven Forest surrounded each village. Beyond the Forest, on the Wastes or the Wealds or the mountain Marches of the sea, the Old Ones yet walked; and gods, ghosts and all delvers in the hollow hills were no strangers to the woven shade just beyond the castle gates. It was in those times that The Book of Sunsgot its start, though the Sun Kings knew it only dimly; and a far-flung fate got its start when a lady fair as sunlight loved the Moon King at Laureroc. BOOK ONE: THE SPEAKING STONE I sing the lady, the lightwinged maiden. Golden as sunlight is Ellid Dacaerin; Soft as dawn is the daughter of Eitha. Bold as a falcon her spirit flies. Swift as the deer her sorrow leaves her; Light as its leap her laughter rises. Dauntless as fire is the dragon-daughter; Fair as fire the light of her face. Dearer than gold is the maid of Decaerin; Warmer than gold is the glow of her eyes. Longer than life is the troth of the lady; Wider than worlds is the worth of her love. CHAPTER ONE It was a night of the dark of the moon, and darker yet within the narrow tower of Myrdon. Ellid shivered in her scant bed of short straw as much from dark as from cold. Never had she been so benighted. In her fatherТs great hall the torches and tapers flared always to ward off the things that moved in the night: the wailing white ladies and the treacherous pouka who lured unwary travelers to death in pits or dismal fens. The black spaces of night swirled with such as these, and in the lofty chamber of her captivity Ellid sensed the swift denizens of air all about her. Naked as she was in the abyss of night, she shrank from their presence to no avail. Yet when she heard noises of scraping and knocking close at hand, Ellid did not scream. Not for any peril would she have stooped to summon the rough men who laughed and feasted below. She only stiffened and hearkened intently. The sounds came from the high, barred window, now only a memory in the gloom. УWho is there?Ф Ellid whispered, and started violently when a soft answer came through the dark. УA friend,У the voice replied, a manly voice but sweet as singing. ФPray, lady, make no cry.У Hanging between hope and consternation, Ellid kept silence. She heard a grinding noise as the bars came loose and a thump as the stranger dropped to the floor. He moved toward her uncertainly, then stopped. УLady,У he said in low tones, Фit is black as PelТs Pit in here; I must make a light. Do not be afraid.У Ellid stared. УMothers protect me!Ф she breathed. A pair of shining supple hands took form in the gloom, hands rimmed with ghostly light. Pale flames wavered at the fingertips. The hands cupped and lifted; Ellid glimpsed a face behind them, dark hollows of eyes and a chiseled jaw. The jaw tightened as the hands dropped. УThe vermin!У muttered the visitant ФThat they must strip you!У |
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