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书名：《安珀志》
作者：[美]罗杰·泽拉兹尼
所属分类图书 > 小说 > 科幻
图书 > 小说 > 外国小说 > 美国
美国“国宝级”奇幻史诗巅峰巨著！唯一令《魔戒》作者托尔金俯首的作品！永远的奇幻王子·泽拉兹尼历时20年沥血之作！雨果奖、星云奖、轨迹奖“三冠王”扛鼎之作。其他平行世界的你都在读，你还在犹豫什么？
编辑推荐
◆美国“国宝级”奇幻史诗巅峰巨著！
◆《冰与火之歌》作者乔治·R.R.马丁的伯乐和终生导师
◆唯一令《魔戒》作者托尔金俯首的作品
◆雨果奖、星云奖、轨迹奖“三冠王”扛鼎之作
◆他单枪匹马，挽救了幻想文学这个日渐无聊的文类
◆不仅有史上规模最大的王位争夺之阴谋，更有关于整段人类文明与哲学的思辨
◆其他平行世界中的你都在读，你还犹豫什么
◆英雄的宿命就是抗争无法战胜的命运
◆一切皆虚妄，唯我是真
内容推荐
“安珀志”系列是泽拉兹尼历时20年倾力打造的奇幻经典。这套奇幻巨著无论是对泽拉兹尼本人还是在奇幻文学史上，都具有里程碑式的意义。该系列上卷以贯穿整个系列的灵魂人物“科温”追寻记忆、夺取王位的英雄历程为经纬，展现了安珀这个弘大的世界，构筑了一个让人目眩神驰的奇幻领域。在故事的推进过程中，不仅有剑与英雄的永恒传说，也有壮丽恢弘的奇幻城市；有黑暗、暴力和死亡，还有爱、救赎与希望；有随处可见的黑色幽默，更有苍凉的世事无常；有让人拍案叫绝的高超阴谋、气势磅礴的战争场面和机智到极点的犀利吐槽，还有史上规模最大的王位争夺之阴谋，更有关于整段人类文明与哲学的思辨。
作者简介
罗杰·泽拉兹尼，美国国宝级科幻奇幻作家，在这两大领域均达到了极其罕见的巅峰状态。在三十多年的创作生涯中，他一共摘取了六次雨果奖、三次星云奖和两次轨迹奖，留下了五十五部长篇和一百五十余个中短篇。1963年，他的作品被编入“著名科幻小说殿堂”，并于2010年入驻“科幻小说名人堂”。他率先倡导科幻小说写作要从心理学、社会学和语言学三方面考虑，打破了太空冒险科幻一统天下的局面，被誉为“新浪潮”的领军人物。在泽拉兹尼的作品中，他创造性地将科幻、奇幻融为一体，将神话、宗教与科幻奇幻有机结合，每一个设定都如教科书般精确，营造出独特的世界观。他的科幻作品中有奇幻的瑰丽恣肆，奇幻作品有科幻的严谨设定。因此，他被视为“那个时代最伟大的科幻奇幻作家”。在1970年代，泽拉兹尼开始倾力打造他的奇幻名篇《安珀志》，历时20年，终于得以完成这部奇幻历史上的里程碑式作品。凭借精妙的语言、奇诡的故事和无处不见的幽默感，《安珀志》不仅吸引了奇幻读者的交口赞誉，更受到许多类型外读者的推崇。
媒体评论
他是他那个时代最优秀的科幻作家，他彻底改变了这个领域的面貌。
——美国著名奇幻作家、《冰与火之歌》作者乔治·马丁
为了罗杰·泽拉兹尼的安珀志，我感谢上帝。他无情地涤荡了传统奇幻作品陈腐的中世纪气息，彻底改变了奇幻的面貌，挽救了这个日渐无聊的文类。
——美国著名科幻作家特里·本森
罗杰·泽拉兹尼笔锋犀利大胆，勇于挑战种种貌似神圣不可侵犯的观念……他是最强有力的那类作家，其作品的情节和意境具有捕获人心的力量。
——美国著名科幻作家大卫·布林
没有人能像罗杰·泽拉兹尼一样，将神话与想像的精华如此真切地呈现在读者眼前。泽拉兹尼是这样一种罕见的作家，读了他的作品之后，你希望你也能拿起笔来，开始自己的创作。
——《美国众神》作者尼尔·盖曼
我羡慕所有读过罗杰·泽拉兹尼作品的人，但更羡慕那些从来没有读过、正准备开卷阅读这些宝贵著作的读者。
——《超人类》作者西奥多·斯特会
罗杰·泽拉兹尼是公认的最杰出的科幻奇幻作家之一，诗一般的语言显示出他在这方面的超人天赋。阅读泽拉兹尼的书籍，如同置身于奠扎特弦乐四重奏的美妙世界。
——《达尔文电波》作者格雷格·贝尔
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Chapter 1
I stood there on the beach and said, "Good-by, Butterfly," and the ship slowly turned, then headed out toward deep water. It would make it back into port at the lighthouse of Cabra, I knew, for that place lay near to Shadow.
Turning away, I regarded the black line of trees near at hand, knowing that a long walk lay ahead of me. I moved in that direction, making the necessary adjustments as I advanced. A pre-dawn chill lay upon the silent forest, and this was good.
I was perhaps fifty pounds underweight and still occasionally experienced double vision, but I was improving. I had escaped the dungeons of Amber and recuperated somewhat, with the assistance of mad Dworkin and drunken Jopin, in that order. Now I had to find me a place, a place resembling another place - one which no longer existed. I located the path. I took it.
After a time, I stopped at a hollow tree that had to be there. I reached inside and drew forth my silvered blade and strapped it to my waist. It mattered not that it had been somewhere in Amber. It was here now, for the wood that I walked was in Shadow.
I continued for several hours, the unseen sun somewhere behind my left shoulder. Then I rested awhile, then moved on. It was good to see the leaves and the rocks and the dead tree trunks, the live ones, the grass, the dark earth. It was good to smell all the little smells of life, and to hear its buzzing/humming/chirping sounds. Gods! How I treasured my eyes! Having them back again after nearly four years of blackness was a thing for which I lacked words. And to be walking free...
I went on, my tattered cloak flapping in the morning breeze. I must have looked over fifty years old, my face creased, my form sparse, lean. Who would have known me for what I was?
As I walked, walked in Shadow, moved toward a place, I did not reach that place. It must be that I had grown somewhat soft. Here is what happened -
I came upon seven men by the side of the road, and six of them were dead, lying in various stages of red dismemberment. The seventh was in a semi-reclined position, his back against the mossy bole of an ancient oak. He held his blade across his lap and there was a large wet wound in his right side, from which the blood still flowed. He wore no armor, though some of the others did. His gray eyes were open, though glassy. His knuckles were skinned and his breathing was slow. From beneath shaggy brows, he watched the crows eat out the eyes of the dead. He did not seem to see me.
I raised my cowl and lowered my head to hide my face. I moved nearer.
I knew him, or someone very like him, once. His blade twitched and the point rose as I advanced.
"I'm a friend," I said. "Would you like a drink of water?" He hesitated a moment, then nodded.
"Yes." I opened my canteen and passed it to him. He drank and coughed, drank some more.
"Sir, I thank you," he said as he passed it back. "I only regret it were not stronger. Damn this cut!"
"I've some of that, too. If you're sure you can handle it."
He held out his hand and I unstoppered a small flask and gave it to him. He must have coughed for twenty seconds after a slug of that stuff Jopin drinks.
Then the left side of his mouth smiled and he winked lightly.
"Much better," he said. "Mind if I pour a drop of this onto my side? I hate to waste good whisky, but -"
"Use it all, if you have to. On second thought, though, your hand looks shaky. Maybe I'd better do the pouring."
He nodded, and I opened his leather jacket and with my dagger cut away at his shirt until I had exposed the wound. It was nasty-looking, deep, running from front to back a couple inches above the top of his hip. He had other, less serious gashes on his arms, chest, and shoulders.
The blood kept oozing from the big one, and I blotted it a bit and wiped it clean with my kerchief.
"Okay," I said, "clench your teeth and look away," and I poured.
His entire body jerked, one great spasm, and then he settled down to shivering. But he did not cry out. I had not thought he would. I folded the kerchief and pressed it in place on the wound. I tied it there, with a long strip I had torn from the bottom of my cloak. "Want another drink?" I asked him.
"Of water," he said. "Then I fear I must sleep." He drank, then his head leaned forward until his chin was resting upon his breast. He slept, and I made him a pillow and covered him over with dead men's cloaks.
Then I sat there at his side and watched the pretty black birds.
***
He had not recognized me. But then, who would? Had I revealed myself to him, he might possibly have known me. We had never really met, I guess, this wounded man and I. But in a peculiar sense, we were acquainted.
I was walking in Shadow, seeking a place, a very special place. It had been destroyed once, but I had the power to re-create it, for Amber casts an infinity of shadows. A child of Amber may walk among them, and such was my heritage. You may call them parallel worlds if you wish, alternate universes if you would, the products of a deranged mind if you care to. I call them shadows, as do all who possess the power to walk among them. We select a possibility and we walk until we reach it. So, in a sense, we create it. Let's leave it at that for now.
I had sailed, had begun this walk toward Avalon.
Centuries before, I had lived there. It is a long, complicated, proud and painful story, and I may go into it later on, if I live to finish much more of this telling.
I was drawing nearer to my Avalon when I came upon the wounded knight and the six dead men. Had I chosen to walk on by, I could have reached a place where the six men lay dead and the knight stood unwounded - or a place where he lay dead and they stood laughing. Some would say it did not really matter, since all these things are possibilities, and therefore all of them exist somewhere in Shadow.
Any of my brothers and sisters - with the possible exceptions of Gerard and Benedict - would not even have given a second glance. I have become somewhat chickenhearted, however. I was not always that way, but perhaps the shadow Earth, where I spent so many years, mellowed me a bit, and maybe my hitch in the dungeons of Amber reminded me somewhat of the quality of human suffering. I do not know. I only know that I could not pass by the hurt I saw on the form of someone much like someone who had once been a friend. If I were to speak my name in this man's ear, I might hear myself reviled, I would certainly hear a tale of woe.
So, all right. I would pay this much of the price: I would get him back on his feet, then I would cut out. No harm done, and perhaps some small good within this Other.
I sat there, watching him, and after several hours, he awakened.
"Hello," I said, unstoppering my canteen. "Have another drink?"
"Thank you." He extended a hand.
I watched him drink, and when he handed it back he said, "Excuse me for not introducing myself. I was not in good manner..."
"I know you," I said. "Call me Corey."
He looked as if he were about to say, "Corey of What?" but thought better of it and nodded.
"Very well. Sir Corey," he demoted me. "I wish to thank you."
"I am thanked by the fact that you are looking better," I told him. "Want something to eat?"
"Yes, please."
"I have some dried meat here and some bread that could be fresher," I said. "Also a big hunk of cheese. Eat all you want." I passed it to him and he did.
"What of yourself, Sir Corey?" he inquired.
"I've already eaten, while you were asleep." I looked about me, significantly. He smiled.
"... And you knocked off all six of them by yourself?" I said. He nodded.
"Good show. What am I going to do with you now?"
He tried to see my face, failed. "I do not understand," he said.
"Where are you headed?"
"I have friends," he said, "some five leagues to the north. I was going in that direction when this thing happened. And I doubt very much that any man, or the Devil himself, could bear me on his back for one league. And I could stand. Sir Corey, you'd a better idea as to my size."
I rose, drew my blade, and felled a sapling - about two inches in diameter - with one cut. Then I stripped it and hacked it to the proper length.
I did it again, and with the belts and cloaks of dead men I rigged a stretcher.
He watched until I was finished, then commented:
"You swing a deadly blade. Sir Corey - and a silver one, it would seem..."
"Are you up to some traveling?" I asked him.
Five leagues is roughly fifteen miles.
"What of the dead?" he inquired.
"You want to maybe give them a decent Christian burial?" I said. "Screw them! Nature takes care of its own. Let's get out of here. They stink already."
"I'd like at least to see them covered over. They fought well."
I sighed.
"All right, if it will help you to sleep nights. I haven't a spade, so I'll build them a cairn. It's going to be a common burial, though."
"Good enough," he said.
I laid the six bodies out, side by side. I heard him mumbling something, which I guessed to be a prayer for the dead.
I ringed them around with stones. There were plenty of stones in the vicinity, so I worked quickly, choosing the largest so that things would go faster. That is where I made a mistake. One of them must have weighed around four hundred pounds, and I did not roll it. I hefted it and set it in place.
I heard a sharp intake of breath from his direction, and I realized that he had noted this. I cursed then:
"Damn near ruptured myself on that one!" I said, and I selected smaller stones after that.
When I had finished, I said, "All right. Are you ready to move?"
"Yes."
I raised him in my arms and set him on the stretcher. He clenched his teeth as I did so.
"Where do we go?" I asked.
He gestured.
"Head back to the trail. Follow it to the left until it forks. Then go right at that place. How do you propose to...?"
I scooped the stretcher up in my arms, holding him as you would a baby, cradle and all. Then I turned and walked back to the trail, carrying him.
"Corey?" he said.
"Yes?"
"You are one of the strongest men I have ever met - and it seems I should know you."
I did not answer him immediately. Then I said, "I try to keep in good condition. Clean living and all."
"... And your voice sounds rather familiar."
He was staring upward, still trying to see my face. I decided to get off the subject fast.
"Who are these friends of yours I am taking you to?"
"We are headed for the Keep of Ganelon."
"That ratfink!" I said, almost dropping him.
"While I do not understand the word you have used, I take it to be a term of opprobrium," he said, "from the tone of your voice. If such is the case, I must be his defender in -"
"Hold on," I said. "I've a feeling we're talking about two different guys with the same name. Sorry." Through the stretcher, I felt a certain tension go out of him.
"That is doubtless the case," he said.
So I carried him until we reached the trail, and there I turned to the left.
He dropped off to sleep again, and I made better time after that, taking the fork he had told me about and sprinting while he snored. I began wondering about the six fellows who had tried to do him in and almost succeeded. I hoped that they did not have any friends beating about the bushes.
I slowed my pace back to a walk when his breathing changed.
"I was asleep," he said.
"... And snoring," I added.
"How far have you borne me?"
"Around two leagues, I'd say."
"And you are not tired?"
"Some," I said, "but not enough to need rest just yet."
"Mon Dieu!" he said. "I am pleased never to have had you for an enemy. Are you certain you are not the Devil?"
"Yeah, sure," I said. "Don't you smell the brimstone? And my right hoof is killing me."
He actually sniffed a couple times before he chuckled, which hurt my feelings a bit.
Actually, we had traveled over four leagues, as I reckoned it. I was hoping he would sleep again and not be too concerned about distances. My arms were beginning to ache.
"Who were those six men you slew?" I asked him.
"Wardens of the Circle," he replied, "and they were no longer men, but men possessed. Now pray to God, Sir Corey, that their souls be at peace."
