"Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman - Legends 02 - War Of The Twins" - читать интересную книгу автора (Weis Margaret)

Footsteps in the sand, leading me on ...

Looking up, I see the scaffold, the hooded figure with its head on the block,
the hooded figure of the executioner, the sharp blade of the axe glinting in
the burning sun.

The axe falls, the victim's severed head rolls on the wooden platform, the
hood comes off

"My head!" Raistlin whispered feverishly, twisting his thin hands together in
anguish.

The executioner, laughing, removes his hood, revealing

"My face!" Raistlin murmured, his fear spreading through his body like a
malign growth, making him sweat and chill by turns. Clutching at his head, he
tried to banish the evil visions that haunted his dreams continually, night
after night, and lingered to disturb his waking hours as well, turning all he
ate or drank to ashes in his mouth.

But they would not depart. "Master of Past and Present!" Raistlin laughed
hollowly-bitter, mocking laughter. "I am Master of nothing! All this power,
and I am trapped! Trapped! Following in his footsteps, knowing that every
second that passes has passed before! I see people I've never seen, yet I know
them! I hear the echo of my own words before I speak them! This face!" His
hands pressed against his cheeks. "This face! His face! Not mine! Not mine!
Who am I? I am my own executioner!"


Book 1

The River Flows On....

The dark waters of time swirled about the archmage's black robes, carrying him
and those with him forward through the years.

The sky rained fire, the mountain fell upon the city of Istar, plunging it
down, down into the depths of the ground. The sea waters, taking mercy on the
terrible destruction, rushed in to fill the void. The great Temple, where the
Kingpriest was still waiting for the gods to grant him his demands, vanished
from the face of the world. Even those sea elves who ventured into the
newly-created Blood Sea of Istar looked in wonder at the place where the
Temple had stood. There was nothing there now but a deep black pit. The sea
water within was so dark and chill that even these elves, born and bred and
living beneath the water, dared not swim near it.

But there were many on Ansalon who envied the inhabitants of Istar. For them
at least, death had come swiftly.

For those who survived the immediate destruction on Ansalon, death came