Аннотация
Prologue
The monster watched from the shadows as the armed men, torches aloft, entered the darkness of the mountain. He backed away as they advanced, keeping his huge bulk from the glare.
The men made their way to a rough-hewn chamber and placed the torches in rusty iron brackets on the granite walls.
At the centre of the twenty-strong group was a figure in armour of bronze, which caught the torchlight and seemed to blaze like fashioned flames. He removed his winged helm and two retainers erected a wooden skeleton frame. The warrior placed the helm atop the frame and unbuckled his breastplate. He was past middle age, but still strong – his hair thinning, his eyes squinting in the flickering light. He passed the armoured breastplate to a retainer who laid it on the frame, rebuckling the straps.
'Are you sure of this plan, my lord?' asked an elderly figure, slender and blue-robed.
'As sure as I am of anything, Derian. The dream has been with me now for a ...
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