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Zusatztext “The most significant and cinematic fantasy epic since The Lord of the Rings . Inspired! compelling! and totally addictive!” —Paul W. S. Anderson! director of Resident Evil: Afterlife “Peter V. Brett is one of my favorite new authors.”—Patrick Rothfuss! New York Times bestselling author of The Name of the Wind Informationen zum Autor Peter V. Brett is the internationally bestselling author of the Demon Cycle series, which has sold over three and a half million copies in twenty-seven languages worldwide. Novels include The Warded Man , The Desert Spear , The Daylight War , The Skull Throne , and The Core . He lives in Brooklyn. Klappentext The sun is setting on humanity. The night now belongs to voracious demons that prey upon a dwindling population forced to cower behind half-forgotten symbols of power. Legends tell of a Deliverer: a general who once bound all mankind into a single force that defeated the demons. But is the return of the Deliverer just another myth? Perhaps not. Out of the desert rides Ahmann Jardir, who has forged the desert tribes into a demon-killing army. He has proclaimed himself Shar'Dama Ka, the Deliverer, and he carries ancient weapons-a spear and a crown-that give credence to his claim. But the Northerners claim their own Deliverer: the Warded Man, a dark, forbidding figure. Once, the Shar'Dama Ka and the Warded Man were friends. Now they are fierce adversaries. Yet as old allegiances are tested and fresh alliances forged, all are unaware of the appearance of a new breed of demon, more intelligent-and deadly-than any that have come before. Now with twenty pages of bonus material, including an exclusive interview with Peter V. Brett Look for Peter V. Brett's complete Demon Cycle: THE WARDED MAN | THE DESERT SPEAR | THE DAYLIGHT WAR | THE SKULL THRONE | THE CORE Leseprobe Chapter One FORT RIZON :: 333 AR WINTER :: Fort Rizon's wall was a joke. Barely ten feet high and only one thick, the entire city's defenses were less than the meanest of a Damaji's dozen palaces. The Watchers didn't even need their steel-shod ladders; most simply leapt to catch the lip of the tiny wall and pulled themselves up and over. "People so weak and negligent deserve to be conquered," Hasik said. Jardir grunted but said nothing. The advance guard of Jardir's elite warriors had come under cover of darkness, thousands of sandaled feet crunching the fallow, snow- covered fields surrounding the city proper. As the greenlanders cowered behind their wards, the Krasians had braved the demon- infested night to advance. Even corelings gave berth to so many Holy Warriors on the move. They gathered before the city, but the veiled warriors did not attack immediately. Men did not attack other men in the night. When dawn's light began to fill the sky, they lowered their veils, that their enemies might see their faces. There were a few brief grunts as the Watchers subdued the guards in the gatehouse, and then a creak as the city gates opened wide to admit Jardir's host. With a roar, six thousand dal'Sharum warriors poured into the city. Before the Rizonans even knew what was happening, the Krasians were upon them, kicking in doors and dragging the men out of their beds, hurling them naked into the snow. With its seemingly endless arable land, Fort Rizon was more populous by far than Krasia, but Rizonan men were not warriors, and they fell before Jardir's trained ranks like grass before the scythe. Those who struggled suffered torn muscle and broken bone. Those who fought, died. Jardir looked at all of these in sorrow. Every man crippled or killed was one who could not find glory in Sharak Ka, the Great War, but it was a necessary evil. He could not forge the men of the North into a wea...
