Jonathan Strahan - Swords & Dark Magic - The New Sword and Sorcery

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Swords & Dark Magic: The New Sword and Sorcery: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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A truly breathtaking new anthology edited by Jonathan Strahan and Lou Anders,
offers stunning new tales of sword and sorcery action, romance, and dark adventure written by some of the most respected, bestselling fantasy writers working today—from Joe Abercrombie to Gene Wolfe. An all-new Elric novella from the legendary Michael Moorcock and a new visit to Majipoor courtesy of the inimitable Robert Silverberg are just two of the treasures offered in
—a fantasy lover’s dream.
Elric…the Black Company…Majipoor. For years, these have been some of the names that have captured the hearts of generations of readers and embodied the sword and sorcery genre. And now some of the most beloved and bestselling fantasy writers working today deliver stunning all-new sword and sorcery stories in an anthology of small stakes but high action, grim humor mixed with gritty violence, fierce monsters and fabulous treasures, and, of course, swordplay. Don’t miss the adventure of the decade!
Swords & Dark Magic
New York Times
Cover illustration © by Benjamin Carré
Seventeen original tales of sword and sorcery penned by masters old and new

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“Your city is lovely,” said Princess Nauha, by way of small talk.

“Oh, it is not mine !” Lady Fernrath laughed. “In fact I have very little communication with it at all. But I suppose it is prettier than most hereabouts.”

Thereafter they travelled mostly in silence, the visitors occasionally remarking on aspects of the city or the bay, which Lady Fernrath, as if remembering her manners, acknowledged gracefully enough. At last, they followed a white wall to tall twin pillars. Between the pillars were great bronze gates inscribed in a language they could not read but which resembled Melnibonéan. At a cry from the driver, the gates opened and they entered a long drive, which took them to the steps of a low, rather simple house, built in marble and glittering quartz.

While a servant indicated the house’s appointments, Lady Fernrath led them through high, cool rooms, sparsely decorated and furnished, to the far side of the house and a well-landscaped garden surrounded on three sides by a tall wall, offering a view directly ahead. The garden smelled sweetly of flowers and gorgeous shrubs. Summer insects flew from one to another. On the lawn, a low table and couches had been arranged, ready for a meal. The view was superb, looking out for miles over rolling, wooded hills, all the way to the indigo sea.

The architecture and design of the place was thoroughly unlike anything Moonglum remembered from Elric’s Imrryr, the Dreaming City. The capital of Melniboné had been designed, through her ten thousand years of evolution, to impress with her aesthetic magnificence, her overwhelming power. In contrast, this house and its garden were meant to soothe and welcome and afford privacy.

Almost immediately, Lady Fernrath’s servants, all of ordinary human appearance, emerged, taking their outer garments, showing them to guest rooms, helping them to bathe and put on slightly scented fresh, cool robes. Each guest was assigned at least one servant. Only Moonglum was not used to this and took considerable pleasure in the luxury.

Nauha remarked that the fountains and the walls felt to her, though she could not be sure why, like the work of a desert people. “You must think me naïve!”

Lady Fernrath bowed her head, denying this. “I believe they were from some desert place, yes.” She spoke vaguely.

It was not long, as they took wine prior to dinner, before Moonglum raised the question of the pirates and in particular their king. He laughed. “He did not make his business clear, though at first we thought he might attack and prepared for the worst.”

“You were wise to do so, Master Moonglum. Your instincts did not betray you. Oh, it’s clear enough, I would guess, what Addric Heed does for a living.” She laughed, perhaps bitterly. “He is a pirate and a slaver. A tradesman! A creature born to the highest blood of all—of all —reducing himself to such filthy work!” Her mood changed as she glared into the middle distance. Dark green-gold stars flickered in the depths of her pale eyes. “A thief; corrupt as any human you’ll find here. A betrayer and destroyer of his own kin! A slaver ! A tradesman !” She spoke as a woman obsessed. “And his crew is worse. Why even that remaining ship of his is an act of cruel betrayal…”

She lifted her long head like an angry beast. Her robes seemed independently agitated. She broke off, remembering her manners. “He is—he has—” She drew a long, slow breath. “It’s said he has pacts with the Lords of the Balance. Yet why they would trust him or use him I have no idea!” Her voice took on a light, dismissive tone. She clapped her hands and ordered another decanter of wine. “Here’s one from our own vineyards I hope you’ll find palatable.”

Moonglum would have asked more about Addric Heed if he could, but no further opportunity came. Then a little later, their hostess saw him yawn discretely behind his hand. “You’ll be my guests here, I hope, while you stay in Hizss? I should have mentioned it sooner how welcome you are at my house.”

“You are kind, madam.” Before either of the others could answer, Elric accepted for them all.

“I have my lady friend,” Moonglum murmured, a little embarrassed.

“Then, of course, she must be sent for, too. It is so rare for me to receive guests at the best of times. And such rare guests! From so far away. From the exotic World Below!” She gave the servants appropriate orders. They should go with the driver to the ship and bring all their things, as well as Moonglum’s lady, back with them.

But when the servants returned with their luggage and Elric’s light armour, it was to report that the wench had indeed been waiting on the ship for Moonglum, but she had chosen to remain on board ship. She sent a message to Moonglum, saying that she was happier there and likely to remain so.

On hearing this, Moonglum flushed and turned away for a moment. Then, bowing to Lady Fernrath, he said that while he appreciated her invitation he felt he should return to the ship and see to the well-being of his friend.

“I understand,” said Lady Fernrath. “I do hope she finds our air more agreeable in the morning.”

The sun was setting now and Moonglum thought he saw a hint of pale scales under her neck, but it was surely no more than a trick of the light. Somewhat subdued and doing all he could to hide his emotion, the Eastlander climbed into the carriage and left again for the ship he’d hoped not to see for another few days at least. That his wench should take to pouting now was not to be tolerated. He decided to give her a piece of his mind. And he could not be wholly certain she wouldn’t try to steal something of local value from his luggage. He was in such poor temper that he almost forgot the swords he had left in his chamber above.

With Moonglum’s absence, the Princess of Uyt felt a little removed from the company, though Lady Fernrath did all that should be expected to put her at her ease.

“And how fares my brother Sadric?” asked their hostess when they were settled on the couches again. “Has his temper or his attitude towards you improved, my lord?”

Elric shook his head briefly. “The Emperor died still voicing disappointment at my failings of moral courage.” His voice held a trace of irony, but was without emotion. “The succession lay between myself and my cousin, you’ll recall. How we behaved upon our respective dreamquests would determine who ascended the throne of the Dragon Empire. I believe I was chosen not from any sense of fitness but because I made fewer mistakes—in Sadric’s eyes, at least!” Another faint, sardonic smile.

As the sun came closer to the horizon, the woman removed the gauze visor to reveal eyes of pale green-gold, but, when her milk-white hair fell from below her scarf, it was clear she was also an albino. She noticed Nauha’s look of surprise and laughed. Nauha blurted: “Forgive me, my lady, I had not realised you were related. You are the Emperor Sadric’s sister?”

“My sister married him,” she answered softly, while Elric frowned at his lover’s rather sudden interruption.

Lady Fernrath waved away any imagined rudeness but leaned towards the albino. “So, Elric, is Yyrkoon emperor now?”

“I killed him. My father named me his successor but Yyrkoon was uneasy with the decision. And he disapproved of my betrothal.”

“Your betrothed was not high-born?”

“She was his sister. I killed her also.”

“You loved her?”

“After a fashion.” His expression became unreadable. “I am surprised you had not heard. Most of my world knows the story so well…”

“I had not understood you to be such close relatives.” There was some relief in Nauha’s voice.

“Aye,” said Lady Fernrath, sipping with relish a glass of grey-green wine. “None closer. Blood relatives.”

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