"Paul Thompson - [Elven Nations Trilogy 2] - The Kinslaye" - читать интересную книгу автора (Thompson Paul B)

Elven Nations Trilogy
Volume Two
The Kinslayer Wars
Douglas Niles




Prologue
Winter, Year of the Ram, 2215 (PC)
"The Emperor arrivesтАУhe enters the fortress at theSouth Gate!"
The cry rang from the walls of Caergoth, blared by a thousand trumpets and heard by
a million ears. Excitement spread through the massive tent city around the great castle,
while the towering fortress itself fairly tingled with anticipation.
The carriage of Emperor Quivalin Soth V, sometimes called Ullves, rumbled through
the huge gates, pulled by a team of twelve white horses, trailed by an escort of five
thousand men. From every parapet, every castellated tower top and high rampart in
sprawling Caergoth, silk-gowned ladies, proud noblemen, and courtiers waved and
cheered.
Sheer, gray-fronted walls of granite towered over the procession, dominating the
surrounding farmlands as a mountain looms over a plain. Four massive gates, each
formed from planks of vallenwood eighty feet long, barred the sides of the great structure
against any conceivable foeтАУindeed, they proudly bore the scars of dragonbreath,
inflicted during the Second Dragon War more than four centuries earlier.
The interior of Caergoth consisted of winding avenues, tall and narrow gates, stone
buildings crowded together, and always the high walls. They curved about and climbed in
terrace after terrace toward the heart of the massive castle, forming a granite maze for all
who entered.
The carriage trundled through the outer gatehouse with imperial dignity and rolled
along the streets, through open gates, and down the widest avenue toward the center of
the fortress. Banners, in black and deep red and dark blue, hung from the ramparts.
Everywhere the cheering of the crowds thundered around the emperor's coach.
Outside the walls, a vast sea of tents covered the fields around the fortress, and from
these poured the men-at-arms of the emperor's armyтАУsome two hundred thousand in all.
Though they did not mingle with the nobles and captains of the fortress, their joy was no
less boisterous. They surged toward the castle in the wake of the emperor's procession,
their shouts and hurrahs penetrating the heavy stone walls.
Finally the procession entered a broad plaza, cool and misty from the spray of a
hundred fountains. Beyond, soaring to the very clouds themselves, arose the true wonder
of Caergoth: the palace of the king. Tall towers jutted up from high walls, and lofty,
peaked roofs seemed distant and unreachable.Crystalwindows reflected sunlight in
dazzling rainbows, filtering and flashing their colors through the shimmering haze of the
fountains.
The coach rumbled down the wide, paved roadway to the gates of the palace. These
portals, solid silver shined to mirrorlike brilliance, stood open wide. In their place stood
the royal personage himself, King Trangath II, Lord of Caergoth and most loyal servant
to the Emperor of Ergoth.
Here the royal coach halted. A dozen men-at-arms snapped their halberds to their
chests as the king's own daughter opened the door of the gleaming steel carriage. The
crowd surged across the plaza, even through the pools of the fountains, in an effort to see