A Time of Exile by Katharine Kerr

By Katharine Kerr

The area of Deverry: an elaborate tapestry of destiny, previous lives, and unfathomable magic. With A Time Of Exile, Katharine Kerr opens new territory within the Deverry Saga, exploring the historical past of the Elcyion Lacar, the elves who inhabit the rustic west of Deverry. it really is years because the half-elven Lord Rhodry took the throne of Aberwyn. while Rhodry's misplaced lover, Jill-now a robust wizard-comes to Aberyn and tells him it is time he authorized his elven history, Rhodry faces the main tough collection of his lifestyles. yet with Jill's support and that of a human wizard named Aderyn who has lived for years within the westlands, Rhodry starts to appreciate how his existence is hooked up not only to his personal humans, yet to the Elcyion Lacar to boot. finally, future starts off to solve its secrets and techniques, revealing Aderyn's real goal one of the elves-and the god' deeper layout in the back of Rhodry's twin history.

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I’m most grateful you’d speak with me, O Wise One,” Namydd said in his barbarous-sounding speech. ” Daen promptly handed over a cloth-wrapped parcel, which his father presented to Nananna with as much of a bow as he could manage sitting down. With a small regal smile, Nananna unwrapped it, then held up two beautiful steel skinning knives with carved bone handles. “How lovely! My thanks, good merchants. ” Eagerly Dallandra took the knives and studied them in the firelight. One knife was decorated purely with interlacements and spirals; the other had a picture of a running horse in the clumsy Eldidd style.

Apparently the elves considered this all the unpacking that was necessary; Halaberiel took his arm and led Aderyn outside to introduce him to the crowd round the cooking fire. A young woman, carrying a baby on her back in a leather-and-wood pack, handed Aderyn a wooden bowl of stewed vegetables and a wooden spoon, then served the banadar. They stood up to eat off to one side of the fire and watched as the young men of the warband lined up for their share. “That lamb will be done later, I suppose,” Halaberiel said vaguely.

His words burned in his mouth, an undeniable warning that forced itself into sound. “You must leave tomorrow. Please, believe me—I have magic, and you must leave tomorrow and travel as fast as you can. ” His face pale, Wargal stared at him, then crossed two fingers to ward off the evil eye, in case Aderyn had that, too. On the morrow, leaving took far longer than Aderyn wanted. Although the village’s few possessions were easily packed onto bovine and human backs, the goats had to be rounded up.

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