Shadowsinger: The Final Novel of The Spellsong Cycle

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		Shadowsinger: The Final Novel of The Spellsong Cycle
		Shadowsinger: The Final Novel of The Spellsong Cycle

基本信息·出版社：Tor Fantasy
·页码：608 页
·出版日期：2003年03月
·ISBN：0765342588
·International Standard Book Number：0765342588
·条形码：9780765342584
·EAN：9780765342584
·装帧：简装
·正文语种：英语
·丛书名：Spellsong Cycle

内容简介 在线阅读本书

The Climax of The Spellsong Cycle

Secca, foster daughter of the Soprano Sorceress, and now her successor as Sorceress Protector of Defalk, must deal carefully with her willful master and wield her power to save his kingdom from the armies, fleets and master sorcerers of the Maitre of Sturinn. Faced with seemingly insurmountable odds, she is forced to test her own powers over and over again, while teaching her new husband and her inexperienced apprentice the skills they will need to aid her in creating spells powerful enough to shake the foundations of the world.

作者简介 L. E. Modesitt, Jr. lives in Cedar City, Utah.

媒体推荐 “It merits the highest recommendation, which will surprise Spellsong devotees not at all.” –Booklist (starred review)

“Modesitt’s characters and settings are so well developed they become enshrined in our imaginations. It will be hard to say farewell to this magical land where music and song are the medium of spells.”—Romantic Times
-- Review
编辑推荐 “It merits the highest recommendation, which will surprise Spellsong devotees not at all.” –Booklist (starred review)“Modesitt’s characters and settings are so well developed they become enshrined in our imaginations. It will be hard to say farewell to this magical land where music and song are the medium of spells.”—Romantic Times
文摘 1
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Mansuus, Mansuur
 
Heavy wet flakes drift past the windows of the Liedfuhr’s study, each window hung with maroon velvet drawn back to reveal an early-spring snow that has already dropped more than half a yard of whiteness on the city, and on the ice that still covers the River Toksul.
The man who stands before the windows, looking out, wears a sky-blue tunic with a silver chain bearing the amulet-seal of the Liedfuhr of Mansuur around his neck and a mourning band of black and maroon upon his left arm. For a moment, his hard green eyes flick to the ice-and-snow-covered river that cuts through the city, if well below and beyond the hill on which the palace rests. Then, he turns, standing beside the polished wooden desk that has graced the study for three generations, and asks, “You think Neserea will fall before harvest?”
“As matters now proceed, it is most likely,” replies the trim overcaptain in the maroon uniform of the Mansuuran Lancers. There are but a few streaks of raven black amid the silver-gray of the lancer’s short hair. His thin eyebrows are silvered as well, but the dark eyes are deep and intent. “Despite the efforts of the Sorceress of Defalk, Aerlya and Annalyal hold but an area little more than a hundred desks around Esaria.”
“If we dispatch the fifty companies of lancers from Unduval? Then what, Bassil?” Kestrin runs his right hand through short-cropped brown hair that is already half-gray, although he will not reach his full second score of years until the turn of the following spring.
“Are you willing to risk all fifty companies? And to slaughter
all those who do not support your sister and her daughter?”
Kestrin tilts his head slightly as he studies Bassil. “If I must.”
“You must. You must also avoid facing the sorcerer Lord Belmar. He is strong enough to dispatch all your
……

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