Lion of Macedon
(Sprache: Englisch)
Historischer Fantasyroman über das antike Griechenland von David Gemmell, Autor von Troy: Lord of the Silver Bow.
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Historischer Fantasyroman über das antike Griechenland von David Gemmell, Autor von Troy: Lord of the Silver Bow.
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Over and again, the aged seeress Tamis scried all the possible tomorrows. In every one, dark forces threatened Greece; terrible evil was poised to reenter the world. The future held only one hope: a half-caste Spartan boy, Parmenion. So Tamis made it her mission to see that Parmenion would before the deadliest warrior in the world -- no matter what the cost.Raised to manhood in Sparta, bullied and forced to fight for his life every day, Parmenion had no notion of the unseen dimensions of magic and mystery that shaped his fate. He grew in strength and cunning. His military genius earned him the title Strategos in Sparta. His triumphs for the city of Thebes made him a hero. And finally his fate led him to the service of Philip of Macedon.
As Tamis had foreseen, Parmenion's destiny was tied to the Dark God, to Philip, and to the yet-unborn Alexander. All too soon the future was upon them. Parmenion stood poised to defeat evil -- or to open the gate for the Dark God to reenter the world.
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BOOK ONEA wonderful people are the Athenians. They elect ten new generals every year. In all my life I have known only one and that is Parmenion.
PHILIP II OF MACEDON
SPRING, 389 B.C.
It had begun with a morbid fascination to know the day of her death. She had tracked the limitless paths of the future, tracing the myriad lines of possible tomorrows. In some futures she had died of illness or plague, in others of seizures or murder. In one she had even fallen from a horse, though riding was distasteful to her and she could not imagine ever being persuaded to mount such a beast.
But as she idly traced the possibilities, she became aware of a dark shadow at the edge of her last tomorrow. No matter when she died, the shadow was constant. It began to gnaw at her. With all the thousands of futures, how could this shadow remain? Tentatively she moved beyond the days of her death and saw the futures expand and grow. The shadow was stronger now, its evil palpable. And in a moment that touched her beyond terror she realized that even as she knew of the shadow, so it was becoming aware of her.
Yet Tamis was not without courage. Steeling herself, she chose a path and flew to the heart of the shadow, feeling the power of the Dark God eating into her soul like acid. She could not hold her presence here for long and fled back to the transient security of a solid present.
The knowledge she had gained became a terrible weight that burdened the old priestess. She could share it with no one and knew that at the most critical moment, when the evil needed to be challenged, she would be dead.
She prayed then, harder than she ever had, her thoughts spinning out into the cosmos. A darkness grew inside her mind, then a single light shone and she saw a face, lined but strong, hawklike with piercing blue eyes beneath a helm of iron. The face blurred and faded, to be replaced by that of a boy. Yet still the eyes
... mehr
were piercing blue, the mouth set in a determined line. A name came to her. But was it that of a savior or a destroyer? She could not know; she could only hope. But the name echoed in her mind like distant thunder.
Parmenion!
SPARTA, SUMMER, 385 B.C.
They came at him silently from the shadows, faces hooded and masked, wooden clubs raised.
Parmenion darted to the left, but two more attackers ran into his path and a club slashed past his head, grazing his shoulder. His fist hammered into the masked face, then he cut to the right and sprinted toward Leaving Street. The cold, marble eyes of the statue of Athena gazed down on the boy as he ran, drawing him on toward her. Parmenion leapt to the base of the statue, clambering up to stand against the stone legs.
Come down! Come down! chanted his tormentors. We have something for you, mix-blood!
Then come up and give it to me, he told them. The five attackers ran forward. Parmenion s foot lashed into the face of the first, hurling him back, but a club cracked against his leg to knock him from his feet. He rolled, kicking out and sending an assailant sprawling, then he was up again and leaping high over them to land heavily on the street. A hurled club took him between the shoulder blades, and he staggered. Instantly they were upon him, pinning his arms.
Now we have you, said a voice, muffled by the woolen scarf masking the mouth.
You don t need the mask, Gryllus, hissed Parmenion. I d know you by the smell.
You will not contest the final tomorrow, said another voice. You understand? You should never have been allowed to take part. The general s games are for Spartans, not half-breeds.
Parmenion relaxed,
Parmenion!
SPARTA, SUMMER, 385 B.C.
They came at him silently from the shadows, faces hooded and masked, wooden clubs raised.
Parmenion darted to the left, but two more attackers ran into his path and a club slashed past his head, grazing his shoulder. His fist hammered into the masked face, then he cut to the right and sprinted toward Leaving Street. The cold, marble eyes of the statue of Athena gazed down on the boy as he ran, drawing him on toward her. Parmenion leapt to the base of the statue, clambering up to stand against the stone legs.
Come down! Come down! chanted his tormentors. We have something for you, mix-blood!
Then come up and give it to me, he told them. The five attackers ran forward. Parmenion s foot lashed into the face of the first, hurling him back, but a club cracked against his leg to knock him from his feet. He rolled, kicking out and sending an assailant sprawling, then he was up again and leaping high over them to land heavily on the street. A hurled club took him between the shoulder blades, and he staggered. Instantly they were upon him, pinning his arms.
Now we have you, said a voice, muffled by the woolen scarf masking the mouth.
You don t need the mask, Gryllus, hissed Parmenion. I d know you by the smell.
You will not contest the final tomorrow, said another voice. You understand? You should never have been allowed to take part. The general s games are for Spartans, not half-breeds.
Parmenion relaxed,
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von David Gemmell
Der Engländer David Gemmell gehört seit seiner "Drenai-Saga", von der inzwischen über zwanzig Titel vorliegen, zu den bekanntesten und erfolgreichsten Fantasy-Autoren unserer Zeit. Seine Bücher landen regelmäßig auf den Bestseller-Listen.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: David Gemmell
- 2006, 528 Seiten, Maße: 10,7 x 17,4 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Ballantine
- ISBN-10: 0345485351
- ISBN-13: 9780345485359
Sprache:
Englisch
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