"Stephen Goldin - Storyteller" - читать интересную книгу автора (Goldin Stephen)

Copyright © 1988 by Stephen Goldin




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Copyright ©1988 by Stephen Goldin



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This book is dedicated to Melissa Ann Singer, for all the time, effort, and love she put into it.


CHAPTER 1

The Palace Of Rashwenath


The tale is told of a time when Hakem Rafi the accursed, the thief, the blackhearted, when this nefarious
infidel violated the Temple of the Faith in the fabled city of Ravan and stole the golden jeweled urn of
Aeshma from before the Bahram fire itself. The tale recounts how he escaped from the Holy City
disguised as a soldier in Prince Ahmad's own wedding procession, only to be trapped in the ambush of
the treacherous King Basir—and how, to save his own life, he smashed the urn and released Aeshma
upon the unsuspecting world of Parsina once again.

Aeshma, the king of the daevas. Aeshma, satrap of the Pits of Torment. Aeshma, the personification of
Rimahn upon the face of the earth. The power of pure evil had been bottled up for so many centuries
within the Holy City—and now, in one earthshaking minute, this force exploded back into the world with
devastating consequences for all who came near it, for all whose lives were touched by it. And the
Cycles of the world ground on in their inevitable course, as one Cycle lay dying while another screamed
in its birth contractions.

It was after receiving a hurried pledge of servitude, and with great fear in his heart, that Hakem Rafi the
thief watched the release of Aeshma from his golden urn. Never one for bravery, only the certainty of his
death at the hands of the brigands gave him the desperation that apes courage and allowed him to smash
the holy urn. From his ancient prison Aeshma burst forth as an enormous black whirlwind. The king of
the daevas spat out lightning that, at Hakem Rafi's command, destroyed the brigands who'd attacked
Prince Ahmad's procession.

With that task completed, the whirlwind that was Aeshma transformed itself into the semblance of a
rukh, a huge bird with sharp, curved bill and wings so powerful the wind from their beating could knock
over a strong man. The rukh surveyed the scene with eyes of blue flame and reached down one massive
claw, capable of clutching an elephant the way a hawk would clutch a field mouse. Picking up the startled