"Nancy Varian Berberick - Dalamar the Dark" - читать интересную книгу автора (Varian Nancy)

DALAMAR THE DARK

By Nancy Varian Berberick

DRAGONLANCE Classics


For my dear friend Douglas W. Clark,
a boon companion whether the road winds through sun or shadow.

Acknowledgments:

I'm happy to have this chance to express my appreciation of the editors who
worked with me on Dalamar the Dark, Patrick McGilligan whose excellent
suggestions I've long been in the habit of taking, and Mark Sehestedt who
helped me tame the wild wordage.

As well, it is my pleasure to thank Miranda Homer for her cheerful patience
while finding herself bestormed in my thousand questions. When you find depth
in the setting of this novel and consistency in detail, you see Miranda's
fingerprints.



PROLOGUE

In the Hall of Mages, in the secret heart of the Tower of High Sorcery at
Wayreth, the dark elf stood in perfect stillness. Dalamar Nightson. Dalamar of
Tarsis. Dalamar Argent. Once, long ago, he had been Dalamar of Silvanost. He
wore dark robes given to him by the head of his order, Ladonna herself,
silver-stitched with runes of warding- ancient runes like those upon the outer
wall of the Tower, marks whose meaning few knew, but he understood. As had
become his habit, whether abroad or indoors, he wore the hood of that robe up,
shadowing his face, leaving only his eyes to be seen.
Light shone down pale from the unseen ceiling high above. It made no shadow.
It gave no cheer. Though torches stood in brackets upon the walls, none were
lit. No sound whispered in the vast chamber, not even the sigh of the
breathing of the four gathered in the hall.
Upon his high seat, Par-Salian, the Master of the Tower of High Sorcery and
the Head of the Conclave of Wizards, sat, tall and straight. Except for his
white hands, those veined, gnarled hands, twitching restlessly to some private
thought, he might have been carved from alabaster. To the right of the Master
stood Justarius, his red robe the color of poppies, and Ladonna stood at
Par-Salian's left. The regard of the three sat upon Dalamar like a weight He
did not move or indicate in any way his discomfort. He simply stood before the
heads of the three Orders, breathing the perfumes of magic, musky oils, herbs,
and, as always, dried roses.
Outside the Hall of Mages, two corpses lay in state. Even as these four
gathered, mages of all the Orders went into the Rear Tower to pay respect to a
woman all had known and a dwarf few had. Both had been mages.