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The Warded Man

The Warded Man

Titel: The Warded Man
Autoren: Peter V. Brett
Vom Netzwerk:
certainly deserves to be the next Big Thing in dark fantasy.”
— HorrorScope (Woodvale, Australia)
“Very likeable … a very accomplished debut fantasy, without doubt exciting and with exceptionally well-rendered characters—the fate of whom the reader cares very much about. How the fight against demonkind will develop, I cannot guess, but I will most certainly be visiting Peter V. Brett’s misty and murky world to find out. Recommended.”
—SFRevu (U.K.)
“Makes you genuinely excited by the idea of reading more … will leave you impatient for the next installment.”
— SFX (U.K.)
“Like many fantasy epics before it, this debut from Peter V. Brett bursts onto shelves with much anticipation and plenty of buzz. On opening this promised gem of literature, I was surprised to find that this time the hype is largely justified …. The Warded Man is a real treat, with Brett displaying a bucket-load of talent in making the familiar so gripping.”
—Total Sci-Fi Online
“Brett is a spectacular writer. I cannot recommend The Warded Man highly enough. It is thoroughly entertaining, having the right mix of suspense, action and introspection. It never bogs down for any of its length, as Brett paces the story masterfully. The world itself and the concept of the wards make the story unique among epic fantasies. The tale ends on a note of expectation, making me eager to read the second book, The Desert Spear , to find out what happens. The Warded Man is truly unput-downable. Make sure you have plenty of time for reading it, because you will not want to leave its pages for anything.”
—Grasping for the Wind



The Warded Man is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
    Copyright © 2009 by Peter Brett
    Map copyright © 2010 by Andrew Ashton
    All rights reserved.
    Published in the United States by Del Rey, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
    DEL REY is a registered trademark and the Del Rey colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.
    Originally published in the United Kingdom in hardcover as The Painted Man by HarperCollins Publishers, London, in 2008 and subsequently in the United States by Del Rey, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., in 2009.
    eISBN: 978-0-345-51265-9
    www.delreybooks.com
    v3.1_r3

To Otzi,
the original Warded Man



ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
    Special thanks to all the people who test-read this book: Dani, Myke, Amelia, Neil, Matt, Joshua, Steve, Mom, Dad, Trisha, Netta, and Cobie. Your advice and encouragement made it possible for me to turn a hobby into something more. And to my editors, Liz and Emma, who took a chance on a new author and challenged me to exceed even my own high standards. I could never have done it without you.

SECTION I

TIBBET’S
BROOK

318-319 AR
    (After Return)

CHAPTER 1
AFTERMATH
319 AR

    THE GREAT HORN SOUNDED .
    Arlen paused in his work, looking up at the lavender wash of the dawn sky. Mist still clung to the air, bringing with it a damp, acrid taste that was all too familiar. A quiet dread built in his gut as he waited in the morning stillness, hoping that it had been his imagination. He was eleven years old.
    There was a pause, and then the horn blew twice in rapid succession. One long and two short meant south and east. The Cluster by the Woods. His father had friends among the cutters. Behind Arlen, the door to the house opened, and he knew his mother would be there, covering her mouth with both hands.
    Arlen returned to his work, not needing to be told to hurry. Some chores could wait a day, but the stock still needed to be fed and the cows milked. He left the animals in the barns and opened the hay stores, slopped the pigs, and ran to fetch a wooden milk bucket. His mother was already squatting beneath the first of the cows. He snatched the spare stool and they found cadence in their work, the sound of milk striking wood drumming a funeral march.
    As they moved to the next pair down the line, Arlen saw his father begin hitching their strongest horse, a five-year-old chestnut-colored mare named Missy, to the cart. His face was grim as he worked.
    What would they find this time?
    Before long, they were in the cart, trundling toward the small cluster of houses by
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