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"The most significant and cinematic fantasy epic since The Lord of the Rings. Inspired, compelling, and totally addictive!"
—Paul W. S. Anderson, director of Resident Evil: Afterlife
"Peter V. Brett is one of my favorite new authors."
—Patrick Rothfuss, New York Times bestselling author of The Name of the Wind 内容简介
The sun is setting on humanity. The night now belongs to voracious demons that prey upon a dwindling population forced to cower behind half-forgotten symbols of power. Legends tell of a Deliverer: a general who once bound all mankind into a single force that defeated the demons. But is the return of the Deliverer just another myth? Perhaps not. Out of the desert rides Ahmann Jardir, who has forged the desert tribes into a demon-killing army. He has proclaimed himself Shar'Dama Ka, the Deliverer, and he carries ancient weapons—a spear and a crown—that give credence to his claim. But the Northerners claim their own Deliverer: the Warded Man, a dark, forbidding figure. Once, the Shar'Dama Ka and the Warded Man were friends. Now they are fierce adversaries. Yet as old allegiances are tested and fresh alliances forged, all are unaware of the appearance of a new breed of demon, more intelligent—and deadly—than any that have come before. 作者简介
Peter V. Brett is the author of the Demon Cycle, which includes The Warded Man and The Desert Spear. Raised on a steady diet of fantasy novels, comic books, and Dungeons & Dragons, Brett has been writing fantasy stories for as long as he can remember. He received a bachelor of arts degree in English literature and art history from the University at Buffalo in 1995, then spent more than a decade in pharmaceutical publishing before returning to his bliss. He lives in Brooklyn with his wife, Danielle, their daughter, Cassandra, and an evil cat named Jinx. 精彩书评
"In keeping with the recent trend of starting in the thick of the action, this sequel to 2009's The Warded Man picks up in the heat of Jardir's conquest of the greenlands. This choice may pull in new readers but risks alienating returning ones, since series hero Arlen Bales doesn't even appear until midbook. Jardir, who seemed to mostly be a villain in the first book, is made more sympathetic through a flashback to his childhood warrior training and the machinations of his psychically gifted chief wife, Inevera, who seems part Bene Gesserit and part Lady Macbeth as she plots his rise to power. Romantic entanglements occupy much of the book and lead to an abrupt conclusion that would benefit from a gentler epilogue, but is sure to leave fans on tenterhooks waiting for the last installment."
--Publishers Weekly 精彩书摘
Chapter One
FORT RIZON
:: 333 AR WINTER ::
Fort Rizon's wall was a joke.
Barely ten feet high and only one thick, the entire city's defenses were less than the meanest of a Damaji's dozen palaces. The Watchers didn't even need their steel-shod ladders; most simply leapt to catch the lip of the tiny wall and pulled themselves up and over.
"People so weak and negligent deserve to be conquered," Hasik said. Jardir grunted but said nothing.
The advance guard of Jardir's elite warriors had come under cover of darkness, thousands of sandaled feet crunching the fallow, snow- covered fields surrounding the city proper. As the greenlanders cowered behind their wards, the Krasians had braved the demon- infested night to advance. Even corelings gave berth to so many Holy Warriors on the move.
They gathered before the city, but the veiled warriors did not attack immediately. Men did not attack other men in the night. When dawn's light began to fill the sky, they lowered their veils, that their enemies might see their faces.
There were a few brief grunts as the Watchers subdued the guards in the gatehouse, and then a creak as the city gates opened wide to admit Jardir's host. With a roar, six thousand dal'Sharum warriors poured into the city.
Before the Rizonans even knew what was happening, the Krasians were upon them, kicking in doors and dragging the men out of their beds, hurling them naked into the snow.
With its seemingly endless arable land, Fort Rizon was more populous by far than Krasia, but Rizonan men were not warriors, and they fell before Jardir's trained ranks like grass before the scythe. Those who struggled suffered torn muscle and broken bone. Those who fought, died.
Jardir looked at all of these in sorrow. Every man crippled or killed was one who could not find glory in Sharak Ka, the Great War, but it was a necessary evil. He could not forge the men of the North into a weapon against demonkind without first tempering them as the smith's hammer did the speartip.
Women screamed as Jardir's men tempered them in another fashion. Another necessary evil. Sharak Ka was nigh, and the coming generation of warriors had to spring from the seeds of men, not cowards.
After some time, Jardir's son Jayan dropped to one knee in the snow before him, his speartip red with blood. "The inner city is ours, Father," Jayan said.
Jardir nodded. "If we control the inner city, we control the plain."
Jayan had done well on his first command. Had this been a battle against demons, Jardir would have led the charge himself, but he would not stain the Spear of Kaji with human blood. Jayan was young to wear the white veil of captain, but he was Jardir's firstborn, Blood of the Deliverer himself. He was strong, impervious to pain, and warrior and cleric alike stepped with reverence around him.
"Many have fled," Asome added, appearing at his brother's back. "They will warn the hamlets, who will flee also, escaping the cleansing of Evejan law."
Jardir looked at him. Asome was a year younger than his brother, smaller and more slender. He was clad in a dama's white robes without armor or weapon, but Jardir was not fooled. His second son was easily the more ambitious and dangerous of the two, and they more so than any of their dozens of younger brothers.
"They escape for now," Jardir said, "but they leave their food stores behind and flee into the soft ice that covers the green lands in winter. The weak will die, sparing us the trouble of killing them, and my yoke will find the strong in due time. You have done well, my sons. Jayan, assign men to find buildings suitable to hold the captives before they die from cold. Separate the boys for Hannu Pash. If we can beat the Northern weakness out of them, perhaps some can rise above their fathers. The strong men we will use as fodder in battle, and the weak will be slaves. Any women of fertile age may be bred."
Jayan struck a fist to his chest and nodded.
"Asome, signal the other dama to begin," Jardir said, and Asome bowed.
Jardir watched his white-clad son as he strode off to obey. The clerics would spread the word of Everam to the chin, and those who did not accept it into their hearts would have it thrust down their throats.
Necessary evil.
That afternoon, Jardir paced the thick-carpeted floors of the manse he had taken as his Rizonan palace. It was a pitiful place compared with his palaces in Krasia, but after months of sleeping in tents since leaving the Desert Spear, it was a welcome touch of civilization.
In his right hand, Jardir clutched the Spear of Kaji, using it as one might a walking stick. He needed no support, of course, but the ancient weapon had brought about his rise to power, and it was never far from his grasp. The butt thumped against the carpet with each step.
"Abban is late," Jardir said. "Even traveling with the women after dawn, he should have been here by now."
"I will never understand why you tolerate that khaffit in your presence, Father," Asome said. "The pig-eater should be put to death for even having raised his eyes to look upon you, and yet you take his counsel as if he were an equal in your court."
"Kaji himself bent khaffit to the tasks that suited them," Jardir said. "Abban knows more about the green lands than anyone, and that is knowledge a wise leader must use."
"What is there to know?" Jayan asked. "The greenlanders are all cowards and weaklings, no better than khaffit themselves. They are not even worthy to fight as slaves and fodder."
"Do not be so quick to claim you know all there is," Jardir said. "Only Everam knows all things. The Evejah tells us to know our enemies, and we know very little of the North. If I am to bring them into the Great War, I must do more than just kill them, more than just dominate. I must understand them. And if all the men of the green lands are no better than khaffit, who better than a khaffit to explain their hearts to me?"
Just then, there was a knock at the door, and Abban came limping into the room. As always, the fat merchant was dressed in rich, womanly silks and fur-a garish display that he seemed to wear intentionally for the offense it gave to the austere dama and dal'Sharum.
The guards mocked and shoved him as he passed, but they knew better than to deny Abban entry. Whatever their personal feelings, hindering Abban risked Jardir's wrath, something no man wanted.
The crippled khaffit leaned heavily on his cane as he approached Jardir's throne, sweat pearling on his reddened, doughy face despite the cold. Jardir looked at him in disgust. It was clear he brought important news, but Abban stood panting, attempting to catch his breath, instead of sharing it.
"What is it?" Jardir snapped when his patience grew thin.
"You must do something!" Abban gasped. "They are burning the granaries!"
"What?!" Jardir demanded, leaping to his feet and grabbing Abban's arm, squeezing so hard the khaffit cried out in pain. "Where?"
"The north ward of the city," Abban said. "You can see the smoke from your door."
Jardir rushed out onto the front steps, immediately spotting the rising column. He turned to Jayan. "Go," he said. "I want the fires out, and those responsible brought before me."
Jayan nodded and vanished into the streets, trained warriors flowing in behind him like birds in formation. Jardir turned back to Abban.
"You need that grain if you are to feed the people through the winter," Abban said. "Every seed. Every crumb. I warned you."
Asome shot forward, snatching Abban's wrist and twisting his arm hard behind him. Abban screamed. "You will not address the Shar'Dama Ka in such a tone!" Asome growled.
"Enough," Jardir said.
Abban fell to his knees the moment Asome released him, placing both hands on the steps and pressing his forehead between them. "Ten thousand pardons, Deliverer," he said.
"I heard your coward's counsel against advancing into the Northern cold," Jardir said as Abban whimpered on the ground. "But I will not delay Everam's work because of this?.?.?." he kicked at the snow on the steps, "sandstorm of ice. If we need food, we will take it from the chin in the surrounding land, who live in plenty."
"Of course, Shar'Dama Ka," Abban said into the floor.
"You took far too long to arrive, khaffit," Jardir said. "I need you to find your merchant contacts among the captives."
"If they are still alive," Abban said. "Hundreds lie dead in the streets."
Jardir shrugged. "Your fault for being so slow. Go, question your fellow traders and find me the leaders of these men."
"The dama will have me killed the moment I issue a command, even if it be in your name, great Shar'Dama Ka," Abban said.
It was true enough. Under Evejan law, any khaffit daring to command his betters was put to death on the spot, and there were many who envied Abban's place on Jardir's council and would be glad to see his end.
"I will send Asome with you," Jardir said. "Not even the most fanatical cleric will challenge you then."
Abban blanched as Asome came forward, but he nodded. "As the Shar'Dama Ka commands."
苍穹之下,命运交织的史诗:《迷雾之城的回响》 简介 一、卷首语:光影交错的时代 这是一个秩序濒临瓦解,古老预言在耳边低语的时代。当权力与信仰的界限变得模糊不清,那些被时间遗忘的秘密正从地底深处缓缓浮现,准备颠覆现有的世界格局。这不是一个关于英雄的简单赞歌,而是一幅由血、钢铁、魔法以及人类复杂欲望交织而成的宏大画卷。 《迷雾之城的回响》 带领读者深入艾瑟利亚大陆的腹地,聚焦于三个相互缠绕的命运线索,揭示在一个庞大帝国行将衰亡之际,个体如何在命运的洪流中挣扎、选择,并最终铸就历史。 二、核心冲突与世界观构建 世界设定:艾瑟利亚——破碎的荣光 艾瑟利亚大陆曾是“光辉联邦”的统治中心,一个建立在高度发达的炼金术和严格的社会阶层之上的文明。然而,联邦的“黄金时代”已成过去。一股被称为“虚空瘟疫”的神秘能量侵蚀着土地和人心,使得传统的魔法体系日益衰弱,而联邦引以为傲的机械装置也开始频繁失灵。 在大陆的边缘,古老的“低语者”部落开始集结,他们信奉着被联邦视为异端的“原生自然之力”,并等待着一个传说中的“衔接者”来重塑世界。 主要冲突:信仰的黄昏与新秩序的诞生 故事的核心围绕着对“起源之石”的争夺展开。这块据说能稳定或彻底摧毁现有能量体系的远古遗物,吸引了所有派系: 1. 帝国残余势力: 试图用铁腕手段维护摇摇欲坠的统治,他们深信只有联邦的科技与法令才能带来秩序,对任何异端力量都采取极端清洗。 2. 黑曜石教团: 一群研究禁忌知识的神秘学者,他们认为虚空瘟疫是进化的契机,渴望通过献祭来开启一个更强大的纪元,无论代价如何。 3. 北境自由军: 由被压迫的平民、被流放的贵族和异见者组成的松散联盟,他们追求的不是统治,而是生存权与自我决定的自由。 三、主要人物群像 小说通过三位视角截然不同的主人公,展现这场时代变革的全景: 1. 凯尔·维恩:流亡的审判官 曾是帝国最精锐的“真理卫士”,负责镇压一切叛乱和异端信仰。在一场针对异见者的残酷任务中,凯尔目睹了同伴的背叛和帝国的虚伪。他被迫逃亡,背负着污名,但内心深处的正义感并未完全泯灭。他必须在追捕者与反抗军之间找到自己的立足之地,同时面对自己过去所犯下的罪孽。凯尔的旅程,是从绝对秩序的维护者到质疑秩序的践行者的艰难蜕变。他所拥有的,是帝国严密训练出的战斗技巧,以及对联邦秘密档案的模糊记忆。 2. 莱娅·萨弗隆:低语者的预言之子 生活在大陆边缘的低语者村落中,莱娅自幼展现出与自然界元素沟通的罕见天赋。她并非天生的战士,但肩负着部落古老预言的沉重使命——她被认为是能与“世界之核”对话的人。当联邦的边境军越过山脉,意图夺取她部落世代守护的圣地时,莱娅不得不放弃宁静的生活,踏入危险的文明世界,学习如何在权谋与谎言中保护她所珍视的一切。她的成长,是关于信仰的坚守与外界力量的碰撞。 3. 泽恩·科尔特:迷失的炼金术师 一位在帝国最顶尖的炼金学院中崭露头角的青年才俊,痴迷于逆转虚空瘟疫对机械与生命体的侵蚀。然而,他的研究屡遭保守派的阻挠,最终被诬陷私藏禁忌技术而遭到通缉。泽恩的视角,深入到帝国内部的腐败与科学被政治利用的冰冷现实。他游走于黑市与秘密实验室之间,试图修复他的核心发明——一个能短暂屏蔽瘟疫能量的“稳定器”,但他也逐渐意识到,有些“瘟疫”并非需要被治愈,而是需要被理解。 四、情节脉络与结构张力 本书的叙事结构采用了多线并行推进的方式,三条线索在故事中后期通过一系列惊心动魄的遭遇(如一场在地下水道中的联合逃亡,以及对一座被瘟疫吞噬的浮空城的探索)逐渐汇聚。 前半部(探索与揭示): 重点在于角色建立和世界观的逐步铺陈。凯尔在逃亡中发现帝国远比想象中腐朽;莱娅在接触外界后开始质疑低语者预言的真实性;泽恩则在炼金术的失败中看到了更深层次的宇宙真理。 中段(交锋与抉择): 三人意外汇合,形成一个脆弱的同盟。他们必须共同面对黑曜石教团的截杀,并潜入腐败的首都——“回音城”的核心区域,试图获取关于“起源之石”的关键情报。在这个阶段,道德困境成为核心:为了更大的利益,是否可以牺牲眼前的无辜者? 高潮(真相与代价): 故事引向大陆的最高点——一座古老的观测台。在这里,所有势力聚集,关于起源之石的真相被揭示:它并非力量的源泉,而是艾瑟利亚世界自我修复机制的一部分。最终的冲突不是简单的善恶对决,而是关于“何为秩序”的哲学辩论,迫使三位主角做出影响大陆未来的痛苦抉择。 五、主题深度:对秩序与自由的反思 《迷雾之城的回响》 不满足于表面的冒险。它深刻探讨了以下主题: 教条的陷阱: 无论是帝国的法律、教团的信仰,还是低语者的传统,一旦教条僵化,便会成为压迫生命的枷锁。 知识的责任: 炼金术师泽恩的经历拷问着科学家和学者,当知识拥有毁灭性的力量时,谁来监管其应用? 灰色的道德: 故事中的反派往往有其合理的动机,而英雄也必须沾染污点才能前行。真正的勇气,是接受世界的不完美,并选择在残缺中创造意义。 六、文学风格与阅读体验 本书的文风沉稳有力,细节考究,尤其擅长描绘宏大而又充满机杼之声的蒸汽朋克式建筑群,以及被能量侵蚀后呈现出的诡异美感。战斗场面设计精妙,结合了冷兵器格斗、精密机械对抗以及不可预测的自然魔法,节奏张弛有度。 献给所有热爱史诗奇幻、对复杂政治斗争和深刻人物内心探索抱有热情的读者。准备好,踏入迷雾之中,倾听那回荡在苍穹之下的,关于生存与重塑的古老回响。