The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss EPUB & PDF – eBook Details
- Authors: Patrick Rothfuss
- Publish Date: March 27, 2007
- Language: English
- Genre: Contemporary Literature & Fiction, Coming of Age Fantasy, Sword & Sorcery Fantasy
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 4 MB
- Pages: 662
- Price: Free
- ISBN-13: 978-0756404079
A Place for Demons
IT WAS FELLING NIGHT, and the usual crowd had gathered
at the Waystone Inn. Five wasn’t much of a crowd, but five
was as many as the Waystone ever saw these days, times being
what they were.
Old Cob was filling his role as storyteller and advice
dispensary. The men at the bar sipped their drinks and listened.
In the back room a young innkeeper stood out of sight behind
the door, smiling as he listened to the details of a familiar
story.
“When he awoke, Taborlin the Great found himself locked
in a high tower. They had taken his sword and stripped him of
his tools: key, coin, and candle were all gone. But that weren’t
even the worst of it, you see …” Cob paused for effect, “…
cause the lamps on the wall were burning blue!”
Graham, Jake, and Shep nodded to themselves. The three
friends had grown up together, listening to Cob’s stories and
ignoring his advice.
Cob peered closely at the newer, more attentive member of
his small audience, the smith’s prentice. “Do you know what
that meant, boy?” Everyone called the smith’s prentice “boy”
despite the fact that he was a hand taller than anyone there.
Small towns being what they are, he would most likely remain
“boy” until his beard filled out or he bloodied someone’s nose
over the matter.
The boy gave a slow nod. “The Chandrian.”
“That’s right,” Cob said approvingly. “The Chandrian.
Everyone knows that blue fire is one of their signs. Now he
was—”
“But how’d they find him?” the boy interrupted. “And why
din’t they kill him when they had the chance?”
“Hush now, you’ll get all the answers before the end,” Jake
said. “Just let him tell it.”
“No need for all that, Jake,” Graham said. “Boy’s just
curious. Drink your drink.”
“I drank me drink already,” Jake grumbled. “I need t’nother
but the innkeep’s still skinning rats in the back room.” He
raised his voice and knocked his empty mug hollowly on the
top of the mahogany bar.
“Hoy! We’re thirsty men in here!”
The innkeeper appeared with five bowls of stew and two
warm, round loaves of bread. He pulled more beer for Jake,
Shep, and Old Cob, moving with an air of bustling efficiency.
The story was set aside while the men tended to their
dinners. Old Cob tucked away his bowl of stew with the
predatory efficiency of a lifetime bachelor. The others were
still blowing steam off their bowls when he finished the last of
his loaf and returned to his story.
“Now Taborlin needed to escape, but when he looked
around, he saw his cell had no door. No windows. All around
him was nothing but smooth, hard stone. It was a cell no man
had ever escaped.
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