"Zimmer,.Paul.Edwin.-.A.Gathering.of.HerosUC" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zimmer Paul Edwin)

The rose-scented wind that blew about them was a rough, chill, hilltop wind that carried a screeching of angry birds.
When the enchantment had been on him, the song of birds had blended into the music of the elves, and all had seemed peaceful; now he knew the noise of birds disturbed by strangers.
Under their feet, the dwarves were marching to war, and goblins tunneled their way into the miners. And somewhere, that dark menace he had only half-sensed slept at the heart of Rath Tintallain.
Yet though the mist of magic and mystery was gone, beauty still remained. Pale-blue blossoms on flowering vines
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wreathed tree branches like smoke. Beyond the rose bushes were apple trees, some bright with blossom, others heavy with fruit.
Hard gravel crunched under Istvan's feet: weariness weighted his limbs. The long ride had been hard on him. Perhaps he was getting old. After all, his son Rafayel, the ungrateful brat, was a man full-grown now, off adventuring on his own. But then, so wild a ride would surely have tired even a younger man.
"What has become of that Sea-Elf who said my sword could be reforged?" Dair Mac Eykin grumbled behind him. "It was very well for you to offer our swords to the Dwarf-Lord, CarrollЧyou have one! But what use am I in a fight, with a broken sword?"
"If it is a sword you want forged," said Cruadorn, "why would you ask an elf? Let me have the pieces of your blade and I will forge you a sword that will cut an anvil in half, without dulling the edge or nicking it." The dwarf halted. "Here, give me the pieces now, and I can work during the night and have the new blade for you in the morning." Istvan stepped aside to let Dair pass, and the woods-runner, joining the dwarf, handed him the pieces.
Cruadorn's breath hissed in a gasp, as he weighed them in his hands.
"This is a Hastur-blade!" He frowned. "I have heard strange tales of Hastur-blades. Well, we shall see."
They went on again. There were no more rose bushes beside the path: beech leaves and hazel leaves whispered in die wind above low, friendly apple boughs. Through the streets ahead came glimpses of wide, grey stone.
"So, is this what the place really looks like?" Starn MacMalkom asked, staring 'round. The dwarf laughed.
"Hard to say! We see it seldom! Old Ardcrillon and the rest are always playing their tricks up here!"
The grey wall grew closer, and through the leaves Istvan saw a vast, red-brown roof, and realised it was all one gigantic building, as large as the fortress behind them.
"Ingulf," said Carroll Mac Lir's voice, "I think, perhaps, I owe you apologies." But there was no penitence in the proud voice. Ingulf snorted.
"You think so, do you? Well, Carroll, when you've thought about it enough that you know for sure, do you be letting me
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know!" Yet the lean islander's voice was calmer now and he laughed. "Myself, I know well that I should be thanking Tahion Mac Raquinon andЧIshvawnЧUaVeaga andЧand I fear I've forgotten your name, my friend. . . ?"
"Why, that is Arthfayel Mac Ronan!" Cormac the Harper's rich voice burst in. "Have you never heard how he turned the Dark Host aside from Gloccamora? Or how he drove the demon out of Tollnagow?" Istvan smiled to himself. Poets!
Before them now, a clear path appeared that ran straight to a door in the great grey building. But to Istvan's surprise, the dwarf passed it by, and took instead the path that circled the building, with the wall on their right. It was a round building like a stubby tower, with a broad red-brown cone for a roof, huge as a hill.
"But could you make any sense out of that elf's babble?" Ingulf asked. "What was he so frightened of? I felt nothing when he took off his spells!"
"Some great evil is buried in the heart of Rath Tintallain," the wizard said somberly. "You'll remember, Tahion, what I told you at Nockarv." Tahion nodded.
"It must be a great evil, indeed," said Tahion, "to be fenced about with such strong spells. In truth, it is not so much the evil itself, I think, as the conflict of power about it, that drives the elves half mad, so that they wrap themselvesЧ and usЧin so thick a mantle of illusion. Not even on the Dark Border have I felt such strong spells in conflict. It made my head ache. It must be far worse for the elves."
They stepped out of tree-shadow and stood blinking in bright sunlight at a broad, green, sloping lawn, and breathing a rich smell of growing herbs. On their right loomed the weathered stone of the curved grey wall of the round building.
A swallow twisted in the air and darted away. Startled, Istvan looked at it closely, but this was a flesh-and-blood bird, blue wings flashing in bright sunlight, above a pale, butter-coloured breast.
"Tahion?" he said, his memory stirred. "WereЧthoseЧ" he waved his hand at the skimming, swooping bird, "those swallow-things we met on the road also illusions of the elves, orЧor what were they?"
"Notof the elves, no," said Tahion slowly. "They wereЧ well, not real birds, noЧthey take that shape for the eyes of
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menЧbut they are allies of Hastur, who come from outside the Universe entirely. It is a part of the Mystery of the Hyades."
"What are you talking about now?" groaned Ingulf.
"Well," said Arthfayel, laughing, "I will tell you all / know, and then we can all be mystified together. When I studied at Elthar, they taught me that the stars of the Hunter and the Bull are at once in two Worlds, and shine not only here but on that World from which Hastur first brought the ancestors of men; and that those stars form a Gateway into that other Universe. Every so often, the movement of the stars allows the light of one star in that Otherworld to shine through the Gateway. And where the light of that star shines, there those two mighty powers, which those who must use tongues to speak name Liogar and Z'jar, may manifest themselves, forging out of starlight such shapes as you have seen.
"But as to what they areЧwho can say? The Hasturs call them the Star Children; the elves, the Birds of Morvinion. At Elthar, men and elves who think themselves wise have long argued what that might mean. Some say that the heat and pressure at the heart of a sunЧand the stars are sunsЧis so great that it must produce mind, and that Z'jar and Liogar are emanations of the mind of that star. Others say that they are the creations of some unknown race of wizards in that other Universe, creatures forged of energy, like Arbanir, Tintinare, or ancient Nurgil who served Thale the false Hastur. Still others claim that they are primordial spirits, kin, perhaps, to Hastur and Awan A'Tawith, bound to their star as punishment for some ancient, inconceivable crime. Who knows? / do not!"
About them on the lawn were scattered bands of ragged forest-folk: tangle-haired women, washing clothes in a fountain that leaped and sparkled in the light, stared shyly at the heroes as they passed. Savage hunters glared at them, sullen and suspicious.
"Long ago," said Tahion slowly, like a man struggling to remember some vague dream, "Z'jar told meЧtold my ancestor, King OnetatsiЧthat it was because swallows were so beautiful that he and his brother took that shape for the eyes of menЧalso because a larger shape would be hard to form from the starlight. AndЧ" he straightened, eyes wide with sudden wonder, "andЧHastur himself toldЧtold Halladin,
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the first of my line, that the Dark Lords would have devoured that other Universe as well, had not the BrothersЧso he called themЧhad not the Brothers defended it."
"It is said at Elthar that they help the Hasturs defend the Hyadean Gate," mused Arthfayel.
Ahead, the open lawn ended; cold wind blew through open metal gates where their path pierced a thick thorn hedge. Beyond, aspen, poplar and white birch mingled with rowen, thorn and oak; leaves rustled and roared overhead. Between the boles, Istvan glimpsed the furtive figures of more of the wild tribesmen, slinking away among the trees.
"And Hastur told King Showenhone, two hundred years after," Tahion went on, his eyes still bright with wonder, "that the Brothers fly as far as light can reach through space, and watch all that happens in that Otherworld, though they rarely interfere or manifest themselves. He said they suffer neither harm nor fear of harm, for they cannot die unless dieir star is destroyed, and thus, only the Dark Lords are a threat to them."
"Wait, now!" Fergus Mac Trenar boomed from behind them. "Will you be telling us that the Dark Things have the power to destroy a starЧa sunT'
"The power of the Eight Dark Lords in concert," said l Tahion, "is far beyond my reckoning, or my knowledge. But they teach in both Elthar and Carcosa that Hastur found here a ruined Universe, where many stars had already been destroyed. But such questions you must ask of the Hasturs, and not of us poor mortal wizards!"
Wind-lashed leaves rustled and surged, and a wall of brown stone appeared through them. Then, on their left, the trees were gone, and they saw, above a low, brown breastwork, the treetops of the Forest of Demons spread out like a carpet of moss far below.
Before them, the breastwork reared up into a house that grew out of the wall, its squared corners of dwarf-worked blocks of stone fitted so tightly that it was smooth to the eyeЧwhatever mortar used, invisible. A red roof angled down from the wall's top. Their path ran straight to a fine wooden door.
"Here we are," said Cruadorn. "Welcome, heroes, to our hall: I hope you find it a fit home for you! Here your
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comrades wait." He threw open the door, and they filed in after him.
Steps below them led to a sunken floor laced with lines of light from narrow arrow-slits in the cliffs face at their left; from the right, light poured through wider arches. Leaf-shadows stirred on the floor.
Men looked up at them, hands on swords. From behind a table near the foot of the stairs, a great brute of a man laid down the bone he had been gnawing, his smouldering blue eyes glaring suspiciously from under a shock of black hair bound by a slim silver band: he was as still as a cat about to spring. Thirty or more warriors thronged the hall beyond, all poised and still.