"David Zindell - Ea Cycle 04 - The Diamond Warriors" - читать интересную книгу автора (Zindell David)

On clear summer nights, I have stood on desert sands in awe of the stars. From
these countless radiant points, my ancestors believed, comes all that is good,
beautiful and true. The Lightstone had its source there. The stars make light itself and
that secret, irresistible force which warms angels' hearts and illuminates all things.
What man could ever hold this most brilliant of fires? Only one who can endure
burning. And one who wills with all his heart that the stars must go on shining
forever and can never die.
They shone upon my grandfather and upon Elahad and the ancient Valari who came
to earth from other worlds; and still they shone upon my world, even though the
Great Red Dragon named Morjin threatened to make war upon all Ea's lands and call
down that black and starless night without end. In the spring of the fourth year since
I had set out to seek the Lightstone and defy Morjin, the stars guided me home. Late
into evenings filled with the calls of meadowlarks and the fragrance of new flowers,
my companions and I ventured across savage lands, setting our course by Aras and
Solaru and the heavens' other bright lights. And at dawn we journeyed toward the
Great Eastern Sun: the Morning Star for which my grandfather had named me
Valashu. This fiery orb still rose each day over the mountains of Mesh and the
dwellings of my people. Where Morjin called my brothers and sisters demons from
hell that must be nailed up on crosses or burned alive, I knew them as noble warriors
of the sword - and spirit - who remained true Valari. It was upon me to return to
them in order to seize my fate and become their king.
On the first day of Soldru, on a warm afternoon, my seven companions and I rode
through the Valley of the Swans below my family's ancient, burned-out castle. Our
way took us through a thick and ancient wood. Here grew tall oaks and elms through
which I had run as a child. Wild grape and honeysuckle twined themselves around
the trunks of these great trees, while ferns blan-keted the forest floor. Many flowers
brightened this expanse of green and sweetened the air: bluets and trillium and
goldthread, whose white sepals gleamed like stars. Each growing thing, it seemed,
greeted me like an old friend to which I had long ago pledged my life. So it was with
the warblers and the sparrowhawks calling out from branch or sky, and the rabbits,
voles and badgers who made their abodes beneath them. Our procession through the
trees startled a stag feeding on the bracken; just before he sprang away, his large,
dark eye fixed on my eyes and called to me as if we were brothers. He did not, I
sensed, worry that his forest home might soon be destroyed and the whole world
with it. This great being cared nothing for the struggles and aspirations of men, and
knew only that it was good to be alive.
'Ah, another deer.' Next to me, from on top of a big, brown horse, my friend Maram
watched the stag bounding off through the trees. He was himself a big man, with a
thick beard and soft brown eyes which easily filled with worry. 'These woods are
still full of deer.'
We rode along a few paces, and our horses' hooves cracked through old leaves and
twigs.
'And where there are deer,' he went on, 'there are certainly bears. These huge, brown
bears of yours whose like I have seen in no other land.'
I turned in my saddle to look after Daj and Estrella riding behind us. Daj's gaze met
mine, and his black curls fell over his face as he inclined his head to me. Although he
couldn't have been much older than twelve years, he held himself straight and proud
as if he were a knight who knew no fear. Already he had slain more men than had