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Raymond E. Feist. Silverthorn
RAYMOND E. FEIST. Silverthorn
Copyright
BOOK III. Arutha and Jimmy
• SYNOPSIS • Our Story So Far …
• PROLOGUE • Twilight
• CHAPTER ONE • Reunion
• CHAPTER TWO • Krondor
• CHAPTER THREE • Plots
• CHAPTER FOUR • Revelations
• CHAPTER FIVE • Obliteration
• CHAPTER SIX • Reception
• CHAPTER SEVEN • Wedding
• CHAPTER EIGHT • Vow
• CHAPTER NINE • Forest
• CHAPTER TEN • Sarth
• CHAPTER ELEVEN • Clash
• CHAPTER TWELVE • Northward
• CHAPTER THIRTEEN • Stardock
• CHAPTER FOURTEEN • Elvandar
• CHAPTER FIFTEEN • Return
• CHAPTER SIXTEEN • Moraelin
• CHAPTER SEVENTEEN • Warlord
• CHAPTER EIGHTEEN • Vengeance
• CHAPTER NINETEEN • Continuation
• EPILOGUE • Retreat
KRONDOR’S SONS
PRINCE OF THE BLOOD
THE KING’S BUCCANEER
SERPENTWAR SAGA
CONCLAVE OF SHADOWS
DARK WAR SAGA
DEMONWAR SAGA
CHAOSWAR SAGA
MAGICIAN’S END. THE DRAGONS ARE CALLING …
THE EMPIRE TRILOGY
LEGENDS OF THE RIFT WAR. HONOURED ENEMY
MURDER IN LAMUT
JIMMY THE HAND
THE RIFTWAR LEGACY
THE CRAWLER: A NAME WHISPERED IN FEAR …
Acknowledgements
About the Author
BY THE SAME AUTHOR
About the Publisher
Отрывок из книги
This book is dedicated to my nephews and niece,
Benjamin Adam Feist
.....
Arutha squeezed her hand. ‘Lyam kept finding more nobles to visit. The business of the Kingdom,’ he said with a wry note of deprecation. From the day he had met Anita, Arutha had been unable to articulate his feelings for the girl. Strongly attracted to her from the first, he had wrestled with his emotions constantly after their escape from Krondor. He was powerfully drawn to her and yet saw her as little more than a child, only about to come of age. But she had been a calming influence on him, reading his moods like no one else, sensing how to ease his worry, stem his anger, and draw him from his dark introspection. And he had come to love her soft ways.
He had remained silent until the night before he had departed with Lyam. They had walked in this garden, speaking late into the night, and while little of consequence had been said, Arutha had left feeling as if an understanding had been reached. The light, and occasionally somewhat formal, tone of her letters had caused him worry, fear that he had misread her that night, but now, looking down at her, he knew he had not. Without preamble he said, ‘I have done little but think of you since we left.’
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