"Feist, Raymond E - The Riftwar Legacy 01 - Krondor- The Betrayal" - читать интересную книгу автора (Feist Raymond E)

the city. Rumours had been circulating that renegades and moredhel -
dark elves known as the Brotherhood of the Dark

Path - were infiltrating south under the cover of heavy rains and snow
flurries. Trackers had reported few signs, but hearsay and the
insistence of farmers that they had seen companies of dark-clad warriors
hurrying south had prompted the Baron to order the patrol.

Locklear knew as well as the men garrisoned there that the chance

of any activity along the small passes over the mountains in late fall
or early winter was unusual. While the freeze had just come to the
foothills, the higher passes would already be thick with snow, then
choked with mud should a brief thaw occur.

Yet since the war known as the Great Uprising - the invasion of the
Kingdom by the army of Murmandamus, the charismatic leader of the dark
elves - ten years ago, any activity was to be investigated, and that
order came directly from King Lyam. 'Yes, must be a bit of a change from
the Prince's court, squire, " prodded the sergeant. Locklear had looked
the part of a Krondorian dandy - tall, slender, a finely garbed young
man in his mid-twenties, affecting a moustache and long ringlets - when
he reached Tyrsog Locklear thought the moustache and fine clothing made
him look older, but if anything the impact was the opposite of his
desired intent.

Locklear had enough of the sergeant's playful baiting, and observed,
'Still, it's warmer than I remember the other side of the mountains
being. " 'Other side, sir? "asked the sergeant. 'The Northlands, "said
Locklear. 'Even in the spring and summer the nights are cold. "

The sergeant looked askance at the young man. 'You've been there,
squire? "Few men who were not renegades or weapons runners had visited
the Northlands and lived to return to the Kingdom.

With the Prince, "replied Locklear. 'I was with him at Armengar and
Highcastle. "

The sergeant fell silent and looked ahead. The soldiers nearest

Locklear exchanged glances and nods. One whispered to the man behind
him. No soldier living in the north hadn't heard of the fall of

Armengar before the hosts of Murmandamus, the powerful moredhel leader
who had destroyed the human city in the Northlands and then had invaded
the Kingdom. Only his defeat at Sethanon, ten years before, had kept his
army of dark elves, trolls, goblins and giants from rending the Kingdom.

The survivors of Armengar had come to live in Yabon, not far from
Tyr-Sog, and the telling of the great battle and the flight of the