"Karl Edward Wagner - Kane 01 - Darkness Weaves" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wagner Karl Edward)

Then four years ago Leyan saw happen that which threatened all his carefully laid plans. Netisten Maril
was in love again.

From the ill-starred northern island of Pellin came a woman of unearthly beauty. Efrel was her name. She
was of the best blood; her family had given their name to the island kingdom where they had ruled for
long centuries. When the Empire was formed, it was thought that the Pellin lords would be its rulers, as
their blood was the oldest and most noble. But Pellin had fallen on dark days, and the aged kingdom was
no match for the younger, stronger kingdoms to the south. Indeed, all threats to Thovnos's domination
have come from its young neighbors and not from remote Pellin--although it is no secret that the lords of
Pellin have always dreamed of someday holding the reins of empire.

But the island Pellin has had an evil reputation since the earliest days when man first crossed the Western
Sea to settle in this region. Our history is old, and very much of the centuries preceding the Empire's
foundation has become obscured by myth and legend. Nonetheless, the strange stone ruins that are to be
found mouldering in certain shunned locations among the islands defy all understanding. Of the race that
built these monolithic citadels we know nothing. Legend insists that these ruins were here before the
coming of man to the islands. Certainly the crumbling stones are of marvelous antiquity, and no man can
guess what ages have passed since these cyclopean fortresses were raised, nor at whose hand they were
destroyed. There are curious myths that hint of frightful carvings depicting colossal scenes of combat
among monstrous sea beasts from a mad god's nightmare. The first seafarers who settled the islands left
unsavory rumors of things carvers upon certain of the eroded stones--hideous scenes they took pains to
obliterate forever with frightened blows of hammer and chisel. No such carvings today remain to verify
these myths. It is on the island of Pellin that these lichen-covered ruins are to be found in greatest
concentration--nor are they in so advanced a state of decay as those on the southern islands.

Certainly it is not solely due to the immeasurably deep waters to the north of Pellin that no fisherman will
cast nets there, that merchants sail many leagues off course to avoid the region. This area of the Western
Sea is named the Sorn-Ellyn, which is said to mean "bottomless sea" in an archaic tongue. Its depths have
never been plumbed. Legend says that the Earth has split asunder there, and that the waters of the
Sorn-Ellyn flow down into the cosmic ocean upon which our world floats. A pretty concept, of course,
and derived from folk myths of our universe's creation--though philosophers have since learned more
bewildering theories to dispute.

Less easy to dismiss are the wild and unsettling stories told over the years by those few men who have
ventured across the Sorn-Ellyn and returned--or so they claim. They spread fantastic tales of ghostly
lights glimpsed at night from far down beneath the sea, of weird shapes only half seen that moved about
on the black waves on nights of the full moon. Some claim they have heard an eerie whining sound that
echoes from under the sea--a droning that makes men cry out in agony and drives ships' dogs insane with
fear. Horrible sea monsters are said to haunt the Sorn-Ellyn as they lurk in the waters of no other
sea--loathsome creatures that can drag beneath the waves an entire ship and her crew. The oldest
legends speak of an elder race of demons who dwell in the black depths of the Sorn-Ellyn, eager to
destroy all fools who dare trespass within their sunken realm.

And with these dark legends of the past there are mingled more recent tales that seamen speak of with
fear yet in their eyes. Such reports are scoffed at by day, or told for a safe shudder over alecups--but not
mentioned at night and at sea.

One such: A few years back a captain from Tresli was sailing home with a rich cargo of Lartroxian grain.
Wishing to expose his cargo to the ocean damp no longer than necessary--and to make port ahead of his
competitors--he chose to sail north across the Sorn-Ellyn, rather than take the circuitous route through