The Complete Tamuli Trilogy: Domes of Fire, The Shining Ones, The Hidden City. David Eddings

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ all more or less worked that out for yourselves.’

      ‘Did you really have to invite me to come along this time, Sparhawk?’ Kalten complained. ‘I’m not very good at dealing with Gods.’

      ‘Who is?’

      ‘You weren’t so bad at Zemoch.’

      ‘Luck, probably.’

      ‘This is the way our reasoning went,’ Vanion continued. ‘You’ve been seeing that shadow again, and the cloud. On the surface at least, they seem to be divine manifestations, and these armies out of the past – the Lamorks and the Cyrgai – couldn’t have been raised by a mortal. Zalasta told us that he’d tried it once and that it all fell apart on him. If he can’t do it, we can be fairly sure that nobody else can either.’

      ‘Logical,’ Bevier approved.

      ‘Thank you. Now then, the Trolls all left Thalesia a while back, and they’ve started to show up here in Atan. We more or less agreed that they wouldn’t have done that unless they’d been commanded to by someone they’d obey. Couple that fact with the shadow, and it seems to point at the Troll-Gods. Sephrenia’s not positive that they’re permanently locked inside Bhelliom, so we more or less have to accept the fact that they’ve somehow managed to escape.’

      ‘This isn’t going to be one of the good stories, I gather,’ Talen said glumly.

      ‘It is a bit gloomy, isn’t it?’ Tynian agreed.

      Vanion raised one hand. ‘It gets worse,’ he told them. ‘We sort of agreed that all of this plotting involving ancient heroes, rabid nationalism and the like is somewhat beyond the capability of the Troll-Gods. It’s not likely that they’d have a very sophisticated concept of politics, so I think we’ll have to consider the possibility of an alliance of some kind. Someone – either human or immortal – is taking care of the politics, and the Troll-Gods are providing the muscle. They command the Trolls, and they can raise these figures from the grave.’

      ‘They’re being used?’ Ulath suggested.

      ‘So it would seem.’

      ‘It doesn’t wash, Lord Vanion,’ the Thalesian said bluntly.

      ‘How so?’

      ‘What’s in it for the Trolls? Why would the Troll-Gods ally themselves with somebody else if there weren’t any benefits to the Trolls to come out of the arrangement? The Trolls can’t rule the world, because they can’t come down out of the mountains.’

      ‘Why not?’ Berit asked him.

      ‘Their fur – and those thick hides of theirs. They have to stay where it’s cool. If you put a Troll out in the summer sun for two days, he’ll die. Their bodies are built to keep the heat in, not to get rid of it.’

      ‘That is a fairly serious flaw in your theory, Lord Vanion,’ Oscagne agreed.

      ‘I think I might be able to suggest a solution,’ Stragen told them. ‘Our enemy – or enemies – want to re-arrange the world, right?’

      ‘Well, at least the top part of it,’ Tynian amended. ‘Nobody I know of has ever suggested turning it all the way upside down and putting the peasantry in charge.’

      ‘Maybe that comes later,’ Stragen smiled. ‘Our nameless friend out there wants to change the world, but he doesn’t have quite enough power to pull it off by himself. He needs the power of the Troll-Gods to make it work, but what could he offer the Trolls in exchange for their help? What do the Trolls really want?’

      ‘Thalesia,’ Ulath replied moodily.

      ‘Precisely. Wouldn’t the Troll-Gods leap at an opportunity to wipe out the Elenes and Styrics in Thalesia and return total possession of the peninsula to the Trolls? If someone’s come up with a way to expel the Younger Styric Gods – or at least claims he has – wouldn’t that be fairly enticing to the Troll-Gods? It was the Younger Gods who dispossessed them in the first place, and that’s why they had to go hide. This is pure speculation, of course, but let’s say this friend of ours came up with a way to free the Troll-Gods. Then he offered an alliance, promising to drive the Elenes and Styrics out of Thalesia – and possibly the north coasts of both continents as well – in exchange for the help he needs. The Trolls get the north, and our friend gets the rest of the world. If I were a Troll, that would sound like a very attractive bargain, wouldn’t you say?’

      ‘He may have hit on it,’ Ulath conceded.

      ‘His solution certainly answers my objection to the idea,’ Bevier concurred. ‘It may not be the precise arrangement between our friend and the Troll-Gods, but it’s a clear hint that something could have been worked out. What’s our course, then?’

      ‘We have to break up the alliance,’ Sparhawk replied.

      ‘That’s a neat trick when you don’t know who one of the allies is,’ Kalten told him.

      ‘We do sort of know about one part of it, so we’ll have to concentrate on that. Your theory narrows my options, Vanion. I guess I will have to declare war on the Trolls after all.’

      ‘I don’t quite understand,’ Oscagne confessed.

      ‘The Gods derive their strength from their worshippers, your Excellency,’ Bevier explained. ‘The more worshippers, the stronger the God. If Sparhawk starts killing Trolls, the Troll-Gods will notice it. If he kills enough of them, they’ll withdraw from the alliance. They won’t have any choice if they want to survive, and we found out at Zemoch that they’re very interested in surviving, they went all to pieces when Sparhawk threatened to destroy Bhelliom and them along with it.’

      ‘They became very co-operative at that point,’ Sparhawk said.

      ‘You gentlemen have a real treat in store for you,’ Ulath told them. ‘Fighting Trolls is very, very exhilarating.’

      They set up their night’s encampment that evening in a meadow beside a turbulent mountain stream that had carved a deep gorge in the mountains. The lower walls of the gorge were tree-covered, and they angled up steeply to the sheer cliffs rising a hundred or more feet to the rim of the cut. It was a good defensive position, Sparhawk noted as he surveyed the camp. Evening came early in these canyons, and the cooking fires flared yellow in the gathering dusk, their smoke drifting blue and tenuous downstream in the night breeze.

      ‘A word with you, Prince Sparhawk?’ It was Zalasta, and his white Styric robe gleamed in the half-light.

      ‘Of course, learned one.’

      ‘I’m afraid your wife doesn’t like me,’ the magician observed. ‘She tries to be polite, but her distaste is fairly obvious. Have I offended her in some way?’

      ‘I don’t think so, Zalasta.’

      A faintly bitter smile touched the Styric’s lips. ‘It’s what my people call “the Elene complaint”, then.’

      ‘I rather doubt that. I more or less raised her, and I made her understand that the common Elene prejudice was without foundation. Her attitude sort of СКАЧАТЬ