Knife Sworn

Начало книги

Aldryth looked out over the sands of Cerana. There, hidden far beyond any well or waypost, waited the place where his god had died.

He sat upon a rock and pulled from his sack a crust of hard bread and an apple. He worked the crust in his mouth, sipping from a water pouch to soften it. He had come through the high passes of Mythyck and across the jagged beaches that no empire wished to claim but which claimed for themselves innumerable ships, leaving them battered and broken upon the shore. From there he had made his way through Parigol Pass, the last and loneliest place on the map to bear a name, bent against the howling wind, until at last he stood on the edge of the great desert.

Now he looked out over the vast emptiness and took a last mouthful of water before sealing the skin tight. Already sand scoured his tongue and gritted against his teeth. He saw no animals, no plants, not even insects. Here the sounds of life grew quiet and careful listening was required.

Читать дальше →