The Thousand Names
Book One of the Shadow Campaigns
(Sprache: Englisch)
Winter Ihernglass masquerades as a man and enlists in the Vordanai Colonialsonly to be asked to lead hermen into battle. When she and Captain Marcus dIvoire find themselves under the command of Colonel Janus,their allegiance is tested.
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Winter Ihernglass masquerades as a man and enlists in the Vordanai Colonialsonly to be asked to lead hermen into battle. When she and Captain Marcus dIvoire find themselves under the command of Colonel Janus,their allegiance is tested.
Klappentext zu „The Thousand Names “
Set in an alternate nineteenth century, muskets and magic are weapons to be feared in the first "spectacular epic" (Fantasy Book Critic) in Django Wexler's Shadow Campaigns series.Captain Marcus d'Ivoire, commander of one of the Vordanai empire's colonial garrisons, was serving out his days in a sleepy, remote outpost-until a rebellion left him in charge of a demoralized force clinging to a small fortress at the edge of the desert.
To flee from her past, Winter Ihernglass masqueraded as a man and enlisted as a ranker in the Vordanai Colonials, hoping only to avoid notice. But when chance sees her promoted to command, she must lead her men into battle against impossible odds.
Their fate depends on Colonel Janus bet Vhalnich. Under his command, Marcus and Winter feel the tide turning and their allegiance being tested. For Janus's ambitions extend beyond the battlefield and into the realm of the supernatural-a realm with the power to reshape the known world and change the lives of everyone in its path.
Lese-Probe zu „The Thousand Names “
PrologueJaffa
The new supreme rulers of Khandar met in the old common room of the Justices, the cudgel?bearing peacekeepers and constabulary that were now the closest thing the city of Ashe?Katarion had to a civil authority. It was a gloomy space, buried deep in the city s ancient gatehouse. Jaffa?dan?Iln, as Grand Justice, was the nominal host of the gathering, and he d done his best to straighten up, removing decades of accumulated rubbish, packs of cards, dice, and misplaced papers. There was no way to hide the marks and patches on the carpets, though, nor the plain sandstone walls, devoid of decoration except where some bored Justice had carved them with a belt knife. The table was cheap wood, layered with stains, and the chairs were a mismatched set dragged from every room of the gatehouse. Jaffa had rearranged the bookcases and other furniture to at least conceal the more obscene bits of graffiti.
The chime of a bell on the stairs heralded the arrival of the first visitor. General Khtoba entered the room cautiously, as though advancing on an enemy position. He wore his uniform?dun trousers and jacket over a white undershirt, the jacket fringed with gold at the shoulders as befitted his rank. A crimson triangle, open on top like a squat V, had been hastily sewn over his heart to represent the fires of the Redemption. At his side was a sword so filigreed with gold and silver that it sparkled as he moved. Behind him came two other officers of the Auxiliaries, similarly uniformed but less impressively accoutred.
The general looked over the room with barely concealed distaste, selected the least tatty chair, and sat, offering Jaffa only a grunt of recognition. His officers took seats flanking him, as though they expected trouble.
Welcome, General, Jaffa said. Would you care for any refreshment?
... mehr
The general scowled. He had a face made for scowls, with bushy eyebrows and lips shadowed by a broad, drooping mustache. When he spoke, gold gleamed on his teeth.
No, he said. I would care to get this over with. Where are the damned priests?
The bell downstairs rang again, as if to answer this minor blasphemy. There was the sound of a considerable party on the steps, and then the priests of the Seraphic Council entered, all in a gaggle.
Jaffa had grown up knowing what a priest looked like?either an old man, bearded and fat, in gaudy green and purple robes, or else a woman demurely shrouded in silks. This new kind, these hard?eyed young men in spare black wraps, made him uncomfortable. There were no women among their number, demure or otherwise. Their leader was a younger man with close?cropped hair and a scar under one eye, who took a seat at the table opposite the general. His flock remained standing behind him.
I am Yatchik?dan?Rahksa, he said. Appointed by the Divine Hand to lead the Swords of Heaven and oversee the final cleansing of foreign taint from our land.
The name meant Angel of Victory, which Jaffa supposed was appropriate enough. The Divine Hand himself had started the fashion for taking the names of angels when he d called himself Vale?dan?Rahksa, the Angel of Vengeance. At the rate the Council was expanding, there would soon be a serious shortage of angels. Jaffa wondered what would happen when they ran out of manly, intimidating names and were reduced to naming themselves after the Angel of Sisterly Affection or the Angel of Small Crafts.
Khtoba bristled. That cleansing should have begun weeks ago. The cursed Vordanai were like a fruit in our hands, ripe for the plucking, but they were permitted to escape. Now the task of evicting them will cost many of the faithful their lives.
The truly faithful are always prepared to lay down their lives for the Redemption, the priest s
The general scowled. He had a face made for scowls, with bushy eyebrows and lips shadowed by a broad, drooping mustache. When he spoke, gold gleamed on his teeth.
No, he said. I would care to get this over with. Where are the damned priests?
The bell downstairs rang again, as if to answer this minor blasphemy. There was the sound of a considerable party on the steps, and then the priests of the Seraphic Council entered, all in a gaggle.
Jaffa had grown up knowing what a priest looked like?either an old man, bearded and fat, in gaudy green and purple robes, or else a woman demurely shrouded in silks. This new kind, these hard?eyed young men in spare black wraps, made him uncomfortable. There were no women among their number, demure or otherwise. Their leader was a younger man with close?cropped hair and a scar under one eye, who took a seat at the table opposite the general. His flock remained standing behind him.
I am Yatchik?dan?Rahksa, he said. Appointed by the Divine Hand to lead the Swords of Heaven and oversee the final cleansing of foreign taint from our land.
The name meant Angel of Victory, which Jaffa supposed was appropriate enough. The Divine Hand himself had started the fashion for taking the names of angels when he d called himself Vale?dan?Rahksa, the Angel of Vengeance. At the rate the Council was expanding, there would soon be a serious shortage of angels. Jaffa wondered what would happen when they ran out of manly, intimidating names and were reduced to naming themselves after the Angel of Sisterly Affection or the Angel of Small Crafts.
Khtoba bristled. That cleansing should have begun weeks ago. The cursed Vordanai were like a fruit in our hands, ripe for the plucking, but they were permitted to escape. Now the task of evicting them will cost many of the faithful their lives.
The truly faithful are always prepared to lay down their lives for the Redemption, the priest s
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Autoren-Porträt von Django Wexler
Django Wexler is the author of the Shadow Campaigns novels, including The Infernal Battalion, The Guns of Empire, The Price of Valor, The Shadow Throne, and The Thousand Names. His forthcoming novel, Dungeons & Dragons: Spelljammer: Memory's Wake, will release in June 2024. He graduated from Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh with degrees in creative writing and computer science, and worked for the university in artificial intelligence research. When not planning Shadow Campaigns, he wrangles computers, paints tiny soldiers, and plays games of all sorts. He is also the author of the middle-grade and YA fantasy novels.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Django Wexler
- 2014, 624 Seiten, Maße: 10,8 x 17,2 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Penguin US
- ISBN-10: 0451418050
- ISBN-13: 9780451418050
- Erscheinungsdatum: 18.06.2014
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
Praise for The Thousand Names A fascinating world of dust and bayonets and muskets...and magic. S. M. Stirling, New York Times bestselling author of the Novels of the Change
I absolutely loved it. Wexler balances the actions of his very human characters with just the right amount of imaginative magic to keep me wanting more. Taylor Anderson, national bestselling author of the Destroyermen series
The incredible world building, character development and yes, even the complexity of it all, will hook epic fantasy fans and leave them anxiously waiting for the next book in the series. Bookworm Blues
Django does an excellent job with his characters...they are great fun to ride along with... Speculative Book Review
A spectacular epic fantasy debut that heralds Django Wexler as a talented author and The Shadow Campaigns series as a future flintlock fantasy classic. Fantasy Book Critic
Such detail on the military life! From camp conditions to battle tactics, to the lines of grand strategy, the authenticity of the military fantasy is here in full flower. SF Signal
More Praise for the Shadow Campaigns Novels
Gritty, brutal, and yet wonderfully intimate...exceptional military fantasy. Jason M. Hough, New York Times bestselling author of Zero World
Succeeding volumes may end up doing for the Napoleonic Wars what George R. R. Martin did for the Wars of the Roses. Highly recommended. Anthony Ryan, New York Times bestselling author of the Raven s Shadow Novels
The Thousand Names is marvelously written, ingeniously conceived, and great fun. Without a doubt the best book of [the] year. Simon R. Green, New York Times bestselling author of the Secret Histories Novels
Wexler has written another excellently entertaining novel, filled with battles and politics and personalities....It subverts, interrogates, or outright inverts a good few tropes associated with epic fantasy. Tor.com
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