"Tad Williams - Memory, Sorrow & Thorn 2 Stone Of Farewell" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williams Tad)

conscienceless bargain with the Storm King and swears that he will take

their father's crown back.

Simon and his companions climb Urmsheim. coming through great
dangers to discover the Uduntree, a titanic frozen waterfall. There they
find Thorn in a tomblike cave. Before they can take the sword and make
their escape, Ingen Jeggcr appears once more and attacks with his troop
of soldiers. The battle awakens I^jarjuk, the white dragon, who has been
slumbering for years beneath the ice. Many on both sides are killed.
Simon alone is left standing, trapped on the edge of a cliff; as the ice*
worm bears down upon him, he lifts Thorn and swings it. The dragon's
scalding black blood spurts over him as he is struck senseless.

Simon awakens in a cave on the troll mountain of Yiqanuc. jiriki and
Haestan, an Erkynlandish soldier, nurse him to health. Thorn has been
rescued from Urmsheim, but Binabik is being held prisoner by his own
people, along with Studio the Rimmersman, under sentence of death.
Simon himself has been scarred by the dragon's blood and a wide swath
of his hair has turned white. Jiriki names him "Snowlock" and tells Simon
that, for good or for evil, he has been irrevocably marked.

Foreword'

J. He ^VlTlU- sawed across the empty battlements, yowling like a
thousand condemned souls crying for mercy. Brother Hengfisk, despite
the bitter cold that had sucked the air from his once-strong lungs and
withered and peeled the skin of his face and hands, took a certain grim
pleasure in the sound.

Yes, that is what they will all sound like, all the sinjul multitude who scoffed at
the message of Mother ChurchЧincluding, unfortunately, the less rigorous of
his Hoderundian brothers. How [hey will cry out before God's just wrath,
begging for mercy, when it is far, far too fate. . . .

He caught his knee a wicked blow on a stone lying tumbled from a
wall, and pitched forward into the snow with a crack-lipped squeal. The
monk sat whimpering for a moment, but the painful bite of tears freezing
on his cheek forced him back onto his feet. He hobbled forward once
more.

The main road that climbed through Naglimund-town Coward the castle
was full of drifting snow. The houses and shops on either side had nearly
disappeared beneath a smothering blanket of deadly white, but even those
buildings not yet covered were as deserted as the shells of long-dead
animals. There was nothing on the road but Hengfisk and the snow.

As the wind changed direction, the whistling of the fluted battlements at
the top of the hill rose in pitch- The monk squinted his bulging eyes up at
the walls, then lowered his head. He trudged on through the gray after-