The End Times | The Curse of Khaine
- Автор: Торп Гэв
- Год: 2014
- Язык: английский
- Год: Black Library, Games Workshop Ltd.
- ISBN: 978-1-78251-676-7
- Жанр: Боевая фантастика
Электронная книга - «The End Times | The Curse of Khaine». Краткое содержание книги:
The black tents of the druchii cut across the valley about a third of the way from its heights, crossing the river at the base and up both sides. Reaper bolt throwers in wooden forts protected the outer reaches of the camp, but there were too many warriors for them all to stay within the watch of these guard posts. Several thousand tents spread east and south down the curving vale, until swallowed by the trees at the lower altitudes. The advance parties had done their best to cut trails through the forest, but every few leagues the vanguard regiments disappeared, slain by the Chracians. Their latest efforts were like pale scars in the canopy, gashes of brown and black against the snow.
Even so, progress should have been swifter, and now that he was suffused with the winds of magic Malekith could see why. Against the flow of the vortex tendrils of magic drifted north from beyond the mountains, bringing mystical life to the trees and rocks of Chrace. Malekith knew this magic well, the energy of Avelorn, the power of the Everqueen.
He searched the valley for a sign of the asur’s spiritual ruler but there was no pocket of earth power to betray her presence. Instead Malekith detected smaller pools of life magic, and he swooped down upon the largest of these magical concentrations.
The trees themselves quivered with the magic, alerted to the presence of the druchii, filled with vengeance for the axes and fire they brought with them. Treemen and dryads, spirits that normally did not stray far from the Gaen Vale, had come north to aid the Chracians. Other beings, elemental creatures of air and stone, had been roused to attack the Ghrondian forces, moved to battle by the presence of an elf enchantress.
Her spoor was mingled with that of the tree-kin, sharper than the musty magic of ancient centuries. Malekith found her, a handmaiden of Avelorn, marshalling regiments of the Everqueen’s maiden guard not far to the east.
She was garbed in a flowing gown of deep green embroidered with blooms in reds and blues and purples, the lighter green of their leaves creating a swirl of lines and waves along the hem of the dress. Bangles of bronze set with topaz and opals and amber hung on the handmaiden’s wrists and about her slender neck was a pendant of pure sapphire, neatly inscribed with the rune of quyl-Isha, signifying the tears of Isha, a symbol of mourning and sad defiance. Her hair was golden, heavily braided and pinned to leave a single plait hanging down each sharp cheek. Eyes that matched the colour of the sapphire regarded the dispersing maiden guard with affection and contentment.
The handmaiden emanated calm resolve, like the deep spring that feeds the well or the roots of the ancient trees. The grass at her feet stood straighter, the petals on the flowers close at hand gleamed brighter in her presence.
Malekith detested the enchantress immediately.
It was just this sort of moon-faced pining for the peaceful prehistory of his people that had made them weak. The world before the Coming of Chaos would never return and no amount of poetry and prayers to Isha would change that. Only strength of will and strength of arms had protected the elves since, no matter the protestations of the Everqueen and her ilk.
The presence of the handmaiden reminded Malekith that he would have to deal with the Everqueen before the matter was settled. His previous attempts to kidnap her had been thwarted by the same individual that now sought to oppose him: Tyrion. He had it on good authority that the prince was Alarielle’s lover, and she would doubtless support her consort against Malekith’s ambition. When Chrace was in his hands, a full scale invasion of Avelorn would follow, and this time he would not leave the destruction to a feckless host of daemons led by the vain and jealous N’Kari.
The female archers, several hundred of them, were following warriors cloaked with lion pelts along the hidden tracks of the woods, ready to spring their attacks on the advancing companies of Naggarothi. They broke into groups of a dozen or fewer warriors, able to move swiftly and unseen along the game trails and hidden paths.
More than that, the Witch King realised as the enchantress started binding the winds of magic to her will. The energy swirled, delving into the life-force of the forests. Roots burst from the ground and branches bowed down, forming an archway twice the height of an elf, broad enough for several to walk abreast. Fresh shoots erupted along the outline of the gateway, bright leaves and flowers catching the light of the early sun.
The interior of the gate shimmered with magic, an image of blurred brown and green that resolved into a vision of a forest glade. Malekith could see that beyond the gate lay a tunnel that wound its way through the vortex, leading to the south. By this means did the warriors of Chrace and Avelorn bypass the sentries and patrols.
‘I’ve found you,’ declared Malekith, manifesting a projection of his spirit in front of the enchantress.
The maiden guard reacted quickly, surrounding the apparition of the Witch King with a ring of golden spears and arrowheads. The handmaiden looked shocked, but her fear dissipated as she realised that Malekith was present in spirit only.
‘Tell me your name,’ said the Witch King, ‘so that your kin can lament your passing in proper fashion.’
‘I am Ystranna,’ said the handmaiden. ‘I am the right hand of Astarielle and by her command I will not let you pass.’
‘You think to stop me with an army of vagabonds and hunters, earth-witch?’ sneered Malekith. ‘Or perhaps you hope that the blessings of Isha will be a match for my magic?’
‘Strength eternal guards our lands, despoiler,’ Ystranna replied, tilting her head to one side to regard Malekith with sapphire eyes. ‘Have you not learned the lesson yet? Ulthuan does not want you as her king.’
‘Ulthuan will be bound to my will just the same as every creature upon it,’ Malekith said. He clenched a fist in front of Ystranna, fire leaking from the gaps in the gauntlet. ‘You can tell Ulthuan that I will cut such wounds across her that she has never known and when I am finished she will never remember the days of green that once blessed her.’
The Witch King became aware of a nagging sensation, something relevant to his physical body. He looked at the maiden guard that surrounded him and waved them away with contempt.
‘This is the elite of Avelorn? My Black Guard shall water the trees you love so much with your blood, and they shall fertilise the ground with your bones. If you desire peace, return now to your mistress and lay down your weapons. Only those that resist need fear my retribution.’ None of the warrior-maidens moved. All regarded him with cold, unflinching stares. ‘I thought not, but the warning has been given. Ystranna of Avelorn, you must bear full responsibility for what happens next.’
Malekith did not give her time to reply as he banished his projection and allowed his spirit to fly back to his mortal shell. Opening his eyes, he saw that Kouran had been joined by two elves dressed in the manner of the shades, and by a herald swathed in the cloak of a dark rider.
‘A witch of Avelorn has bolstered the forces of the Chracians,’ Malekith told his lieutenant. Blazing eyes regarded the scouts. ‘You have fresh news of your own, I see.’
‘An army from the west, my king,’ reported Kouran. ‘Less than a day’s march away.’
‘From Nagarythe,’ Malekith said quietly. ‘It seems that Alith Anar has decided he wants to play.’
‘My king, our position has become vulnerable,’ Kouran added quietly. ‘If we press into Chrace the shadow warriors of Anar will attack the rear echelons.’
‘And if we turn to face Anar the Chracians will do likewise.’ Malekith turned his eye to the mountains in the west, where the sky was still purple, barely touched by the spreading dawn light. ‘I presume that you bring me this news accompanied by a suggested strategy.’