By Glen Cook
Across the mountains referred to as the Dragon's tooth, past the coolness achieve of the Werewind and the fires of the world's starting, above the partitions of the citadel Fangdred, stands Windtower. From this lonely maintain the big name Rider calls forth the battle that even wizards dread, fought for a woman's hundred-lifetime love. a girl referred to as Nepanthe, princess to the Stormkings…
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Additional info for A Shadow of All Night Falling (Dread Empire)
Steel rang on steel three times. The Iwa Skolovdan stared at his empty hand. The lesson wasn't lost on the others. Turran chuckled. "Like I said, we're taking over. We'll do it without bloodshed if we can. But we can hold a festival for the Dark Lady if you want it that way. You there. " A sullen fat man did so. " he growled. " Deep-throated rage sounds came from the Councilmen. They started forward... "Tower's secure, Milord," said a bass voice from beyond the doorway. The red-bearded captain led a squad into the chamber.
Rolf waited silently, ignoring the pain his remarks had caused. Finally, she said, "I remember the words of an ancient wise man, in one of the old scrolls at home. " Rolf said nothing in response, seemed unusually thoughtful-perhaps because she was being unusually verbose... She jarred him back with a change of subject. " "No, Milady. It's something different every day and, begging your pardon, always something idiotic. " The cold wind blew, gathering strength with time. " Rolf, back on safe ground, relaxed, chuckled, imparted a bit of high nonsense.
The traveler spat in the general direction of the fat man and passed on, out the Dragon Gate. His gaudy chariot rolled beneath smoking, putrid braziers of incense, past statues of winged lions and ugly gargoyles, between the two titanic green stone dragons, Fire-Eyes and Flame-Tongue. Saltimbanco, casting his voice, cursed the traveler through the teeth of one of his collection of skulls. Ignoring his language, the children squealed with delight. They called their friends. The fat man continued, directing invective at himself for having attracted more of the rowdy brats.
A Shadow of All Night Falling (Dread Empire) by Glen Cook