Название | Grand Conspiracy: Second Book of The Alliance of Light |
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Автор произведения | Janny Wurts |
Жанр | Книги о войне |
Серия | |
Издательство | Книги о войне |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9780007318070 |
Janny Wurts
GRAND CONSPIRACY
The Wars of Light and Shadow
VOLUME 5
SECOND BOOK OF THE ALLIANCE OF LIGHT
HarperVoyager An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 1999
Copyright © Janny Wurts 1997
The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
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Source ISBN: 9780007102228
Ebook Edition © FEBRUARY 2009 ISBN: 9780007318070
Version: 2016-09-22
For Roderick MacDonald, with profound thanks for the opportunity to study music under a master
Contents
Second Book
Map
Autumn 5653
One child, four possible fates looped through the thread of his life span. He will grow to manhood. Should he die in fire, none suffers but he. Yours to choose when the time comes, Fferedon’li.
– from Fionn Areth’s birth augury
Third Age 5647
The hard frost came to the downs of Araethura early, and the rains at their cusp laced crusts of ice through the peat stacks under the sheds. Indoors, with no fire lit to fend off autumn’s breezes, the invasive cold settled at will. Crouched on her knees on the packed earthen floor beside her darkened cottage hearthstone, the Koriani enchantress Elaira cast aside her flint striker. She cupped her chilled fingers, blew on the caught spark. Well versed in the contrary nature of wet peat, she launched into strings of ridiculous endearments, coaxing damp fodder to nourish its struggling wisp of caught flame.
The fateful knock at her door, which shattered her peace, interrupted her then.
Elaira damped back her annoyance. The spill in her fingers fluttered out as she arose, resigned to the usual request for a cough remedy or a tincture to dose a sick goat. For seven years, she had lived alone, plying her herbal wisdom on the moorlands. Time had eased the innate distrust the local herders held toward practice of her craft, and