Read Online The Hawk Eternal by David Gemmell - Free Book Online
Authors: David Gemmell
Tags: Fantasy
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thunder growled in muted majesty and Gaelen's heart hammered.
'Is it a beast?' he asked.
'No. Though legends have it otherwise. What you are about to see is the birthplace of many myths. The Rainbow bridge to the home of the gods is but one that springs from Attafoss.'
Once through the pass, Caswallon led the way along a grassy track, the thunder growing below and to the right. Finally they climbed down towards the noise, clambering over rocks and warily walk-sliding down scree slopes, until Caswallon heaved the pack from his shoulders and beckoned the boy to him. Caswallon was standing on the lip of a slab-like ledge. As Gaelen approached he saw for the first time the glory of Attafoss, and he knew deep in his heart that he would never forget the moment.
There were three huge falls, the water split by two towering boulders before plunging three hundred feet to a foaming pool beneath, and on to one great waterfall whose roar deafened the watchers. Sunlight reflected from black, basaltic rock, forming rainbows in the spray, one of which spanned the falls and disappeared high in the air above the mountains. The falls were immense, almost half a mile wide. Gaelen stood open-mouthed and stared at the Rainbow bridge. Even in Ateris he had heard stories of it.
Caswallon lifted his arms to the sky and began to speak, but the words were whipped from his mouth by the roaring voice of Attafoss. The clansman turned to the boy and grinned, 'Come on,' he bellowed.
Slowly they worked their way above the falls to sit beside the surging water in the lea of a rock face that deadened the cacophonous noise.
Caswallon pointed to a tear-shaped island in the centre of the lake. It was heavily wooded, and from here the boy could see the mouths of deep caves in the rocky hills above the tree-line.
That is Vallon,' he said, 'and upon it lies one of the magic Gates through which the Farlain passed hundreds of years ago. We came in winter when the water was frozen solid, and we walked upon the ice.'
They stayed the night above the falls, and Gaelen fed the pup with dried meat which he had first chewed to softness; this time the hound ate with relish. The following day Caswallon led them south towards the Farlain. The boy saw that Caswallon moved more cautiously, scanning the surrounding countryside and waiting in the cover of woods, checking carefully, before moving out into open country.
Twice they came upon Aenir tracks, and once the remains of a camp-fire. Caswallon worked his fingers into the grey ash, and down into the earth beneath.
'This morning,' he said. 'Be watchful.'
That night they made camp in a narrow cave and lit no fire. At first light they moved on. Caswallon was uneasy.
'They are close,' he said. 'I can almost smell them. To be honest, Gaelen, I am worried. I may have underestimated these Aenir. For all that there are twenty of them they leave little spoor, and they avoid the skylines in their march. They are woodsmen and good scouts. And that concerns me; it could mean the Aenir are preparing to march upon us far more early than I anticipated.'
By dusk Caswallon's unease had become alarm. He didn't talk at all but checked the trail many times, occasionally climbing trees to scan the horizon.
'What is wrong?' Gaelen asked him as he pored over a near-invisible series of scuffs and marks on the track.
They have split up into small parties. Three have gone ahead, the rest have moved into the woods. My guess is that they know we are close and they have formed a circle round us."
'What can we do?'
'We do not have many choices,' said the clansman. 'Let's find a place to make camp.'
Caswallon chose a spot near a stream, where he built a small fire against a fallen trunk and the two of them ate the last of the food Maeg had prepared. Once again the night sky was cloudless, the moon bright. Gaelen snuggled into his blankets with the pup curled against
'Is it a beast?' he asked.
'No. Though legends have it otherwise. What you are about to see is the birthplace of many myths. The Rainbow bridge to the home of the gods is but one that springs from Attafoss.'
Once through the pass, Caswallon led the way along a grassy track, the thunder growing below and to the right. Finally they climbed down towards the noise, clambering over rocks and warily walk-sliding down scree slopes, until Caswallon heaved the pack from his shoulders and beckoned the boy to him. Caswallon was standing on the lip of a slab-like ledge. As Gaelen approached he saw for the first time the glory of Attafoss, and he knew deep in his heart that he would never forget the moment.
There were three huge falls, the water split by two towering boulders before plunging three hundred feet to a foaming pool beneath, and on to one great waterfall whose roar deafened the watchers. Sunlight reflected from black, basaltic rock, forming rainbows in the spray, one of which spanned the falls and disappeared high in the air above the mountains. The falls were immense, almost half a mile wide. Gaelen stood open-mouthed and stared at the Rainbow bridge. Even in Ateris he had heard stories of it.
Caswallon lifted his arms to the sky and began to speak, but the words were whipped from his mouth by the roaring voice of Attafoss. The clansman turned to the boy and grinned, 'Come on,' he bellowed.
Slowly they worked their way above the falls to sit beside the surging water in the lea of a rock face that deadened the cacophonous noise.
Caswallon pointed to a tear-shaped island in the centre of the lake. It was heavily wooded, and from here the boy could see the mouths of deep caves in the rocky hills above the tree-line.
That is Vallon,' he said, 'and upon it lies one of the magic Gates through which the Farlain passed hundreds of years ago. We came in winter when the water was frozen solid, and we walked upon the ice.'
They stayed the night above the falls, and Gaelen fed the pup with dried meat which he had first chewed to softness; this time the hound ate with relish. The following day Caswallon led them south towards the Farlain. The boy saw that Caswallon moved more cautiously, scanning the surrounding countryside and waiting in the cover of woods, checking carefully, before moving out into open country.
Twice they came upon Aenir tracks, and once the remains of a camp-fire. Caswallon worked his fingers into the grey ash, and down into the earth beneath.
'This morning,' he said. 'Be watchful.'
That night they made camp in a narrow cave and lit no fire. At first light they moved on. Caswallon was uneasy.
'They are close,' he said. 'I can almost smell them. To be honest, Gaelen, I am worried. I may have underestimated these Aenir. For all that there are twenty of them they leave little spoor, and they avoid the skylines in their march. They are woodsmen and good scouts. And that concerns me; it could mean the Aenir are preparing to march upon us far more early than I anticipated.'
By dusk Caswallon's unease had become alarm. He didn't talk at all but checked the trail many times, occasionally climbing trees to scan the horizon.
'What is wrong?' Gaelen asked him as he pored over a near-invisible series of scuffs and marks on the track.
They have split up into small parties. Three have gone ahead, the rest have moved into the woods. My guess is that they know we are close and they have formed a circle round us."
'What can we do?'
'We do not have many choices,' said the clansman. 'Let's find a place to make camp.'
Caswallon chose a spot near a stream, where he built a small fire against a fallen trunk and the two of them ate the last of the food Maeg had prepared. Once again the night sky was cloudless, the moon bright. Gaelen snuggled into his blankets with the pup curled against
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