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The Belgariad Volume 2: Volume Two: Castle of Wizardry, Enchanters' End Game (Anglais) Broché – 27 août 2002


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Produits fréquemment achetés ensemble

The Belgariad Volume 2: Volume Two: Castle of Wizardry, Enchanters' End Game + The Belgariad (Vol 1): Volume One: Pawn of Prophecy, Queen of Sorcery, Magician's Gambit + The Malloreon Volume One: Guardians of the West   King of the Murgos   Demon Lord of Karanda #1 New York Times bestselling author; With a new Foreword by the author
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Extrait

Ctuchik was dead—and more than dead—and the earth itself heaved and groaned in the aftershock of his destruction. Garion and the others fled down through the dim galleries that honeycombed the swaying basalt pinnacle, with the rocks grinding and cracking about them and fragments shattering away from the ceilings and raining down on them in the darkness. Even as he ran, Garion’s mind jerked and veered, his thoughts tumbling over each other chaotically, stunned out of all coherence by the enormity of what had just happened. Flight was a desperate need, and he fled without thought or even awareness, his running steps as mechanical as his heartbeat.

His ears seemed full of a swelling, exultant song that rang and soared in the vaults of his mind, erasing thought and filling him with stupefied wonder. Through all his confusion, however, he was sharply conscious of the trusting touch of the small hand he held in his. The little boy they had found in Ctuchik’s grim turret ran beside him with the Orb of Aldur clasped tightly to his little chest. Garion knew that it was the Orb that filled his mind with song. It had whispered to him as they had mounted the steps of the turret, and its song had soared as he had entered the room where it had lain. It was the song of the Orb that obliterated all thought shock or the thunderous detonation that had destroyed Ctuchik and tumbled Belgarath across the floor like a rag doll or the deep sullen boom of the earthquake that had followed.

Garion struggled with it as he ran, trying desperately to pull his wits into some kind of order, but the song intruded on his every effort, scattering his mind so that chance impression and random memory fluttered and scurried this way and that and left him to flee without design or direction.

The dank reek of the slave pens lying just beneath the disintegrating city of Rak Cthol came sharply through the shadowy galleries. As if suddenly awakened by that single stimulus, a flood of memories of other smells crashed in on Garion’s consciousness—the warm smell of fresh-baked bread in Aunt Pol’s kitchen back at Faldor’s farm, the salt smell of the sea when they had reached Darine on the north coast of Sendaria on the first leg of their quest for the Orb, the stink of the swamps and jungles of Nyissa, the stomach-turning smell of the burning bodies of the sacrificed slaves in the Temple of Torak which even now shattered and fell in upon itself among the collapsing walls of Rak Cthol. But, oddly, the smell that came sharpest to his confused memory was the sun-warmed scent of Princess Ce’Nedra’s hair.

“Garion!� Aunt Pol’s voice came sharply to him in the near dark through which they ran. “Watch where you’re going!� And he struggled to pull his mind back from its wandering even as he stumbled over a pile of broken rock where a large stretch of ceiling had fallen to the floor.

The terrified wails of the imprisoned slaves locked in clammy cells rose all around them now, joining in a weird counterharmony with the rumble and boom of earthquake. Other sounds came from the darkness as well—confused shouts in harshly accented Murgo voices, the lurching stagger of running feet, the clanging of an unlatched iron cell door swinging wildly as the huge rock pinnacle swayed and shuddered and heaved in the surging roll. Dust billowed through the dark caves, a thick, choking rock dust that stung their eyes and made them all cough almost continually as they clambered over the broken rubble.

Garion carefully lifted the trusting little boy over the pile of shattered rock, and the child looked into his face, calm and smiling despite the chaos of noise and stink all around them in the oppressive dimness. He started to set the child down again, but changed his mind. It would be easier and safer to carry the boy. He turned to go on along the passageway, but he recoiled sharply as his foot came down on something soft. He peered at the floor, then felt his stomach suddenly heave with revulsion as he saw that he had stepped on a lifeless human hand protruding from the rockfall.

They ran on through the heaving darkness with the black Murgo robes which had disguised them flapping around their legs and the dust still thick in the air about them.

“Stop!� Relg, the Ulgo zealot, raised his hand and stood with his head cocked to one side, listening intently.

“Not here!� Barak told him, still lumbering forward with the dazed Belgarath in his arms. “Move, Relg!�

“Be still!� Relg ordered. “I’m trying to listen.� Then he shook his head. “Go back!� he barked, turning quickly and pushing at them. “Run!�

“There are Murgos back there!� Barak objected.

“Run!� Relg repeated. “The side of the mountain’s breaking away!�

Even as they turned, a new and dreadful creaking roar surrounded them. Screeching in protest, the rock ripped apart with a long, hideous tearing. A sudden flood of light filled the gallery along which they fled as a great crack opened in the side of the basalt peak, widening ponderously as a vast chunk of the mountainside toppled slowly outward to fall to the floor of the wasteland thousands of feet below. The red glow of the new-risen sun was blinding as the dark world of the caves was violently opened, and the great wound in the side of the peak revealed a dozen or more dark openings both above and beneath, where caves suddenly ran out into nothingness.

“There!� a shout came from overhead. Garion jerked his head around. Perhaps fifty feet above and out along the sharp angle of the face, a half dozen black-robed Murgos, swords drawn, stood in a cave mouth with the dust billowing about them. One was pointing excitedly at the fleeing fugitives. And then the peak heaved again, and another great slab of rock sheared away, carrying the shrieking Murgos into the abyss beneath.

“Run!� Relg shouted again, and they all pounded along at his heels, back into the darkness of the shuddering passageway.

“Stop a minute,� Barak gasped, plowing to a sudden halt after they had retreated several hundred yards. “Let me get my breath.� He lowered Belgarath to the floor, his huge chest heaving.

“Can I help thee, my Lord?� Mandorallen offered quickly.

“No,� Barak panted. “I can manage all right, I’m just a little winded.� The big man peered around. “What happened back there? What set all this off?�

“Belgarath and Ctuchik had a bit of a disagreement,� Silk told him with sardonic understatement. “It got a little out of hand toward the end.�

“What happened to Ctuchik?� Barak asked, still gasping for breath. “I didn’t see anybody else when Mandorallen and I broke into that room.�

“He destroyed himself,� Polgara replied, kneeling to examine Belgarath’s face.

“We saw no body, my Lady,� Mandorallen noted, peering into the darkness with his great broadsword in his hand.

“There wasn’t that much left of him,� Silk said.

“Are we safe here?� Polgara asked Relg.

The Ulgo set the side of his head against the wall of the passageway, listening intently. Then he nodded. “For the moment,� he replied.

“Let’s stop here for a while then. I want to have a look at my father. Make me some light.�

Relg fumbled in the pouches at his belt and mixed the two substances that gave off that faint Ulgo light.

Silk looked curiously at Polgara. “What really happened?� he asked her. “Did Belgarath do that to Ctuchik?�

She shook her head, her hands lightly touching her father’s chest. “Ctuchik tried to unmake the Orb for some reason,� she said. “Something happened to frighten him so much that he forgot the first rule.�

A momentary flicker of memory came to Garion as he set the little boy down on his feet—that brief glimpse of Ctuchik’s mind just before the Grolim had spoken the fatal “Be Not� that had exploded him into nothingness. Once again he caught that single image that had risen in the High Priest’s mind—the image of himself holding the Orb in his hand—and he felt the blind, unreasoning panic the image had caused Ctuchik. Why? Why would that have frightened the Grolim into that deadly mistake? “What happened to him, Aunt Pol?� he asked. For some reason he had to know.

“He no longer exists,� she replied. “Even the substance that formed him is gone.�

“That’s not what I meant,� Garion started to object, but Barak was already speaking.

“Did ...

Revue de presse

“Fabulous . . . Eddings has a marvelous storyteller style . . . exceedingly well portrayed and complex people. . . . More! More! More!”
–ANNE MCCAFFREY


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Détails sur le produit

  • Broché: 496 pages
  • Editeur : Del Rey; Édition : Volume 2 (27 août 2002)
  • Collection : The Belgariad
  • Langue : Anglais
  • ISBN-10: 0345456319
  • ISBN-13: 978-0345456311
  • Dimensions du produit: 15,5 x 2,8 x 23,4 cm
  • Moyenne des commentaires client : 3.7 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (3 commentaires client)
  • Classement des meilleures ventes d'Amazon: 48.057 en Livres anglais et étrangers (Voir les 100 premiers en Livres anglais et étrangers)
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En savoir plus sur l'auteur

David Eddings, né en 1931 dans l'Etat de Washington, a publié son premier roman en 1973. D'abord employé chez Boeing, il démissionna, fit un petit détour par l'enseignement, puis se retrouva... directeur d'un supermarché à Denver. Refroidi par un hold-up suivi d'une fusillade, il abandonna son poste, revint chez lui, à Spokane, et décida de se consacrer à la littérature.
Leigh Eddings, son épouse, qui avait commencé une carrière dans l'armée de l'air, collaborait depuis toujours à ses romans. Elle s'occupait plus particulièrement des personnages féminins et de la fin des romans ! Et cela fonctionnait à merveille puisque David Eddings est best-seller depuis 20 ans aux USA et a également déclenché une véritable passion à l'étranger, notamment en France avec ses deux cycles cultes : La Belgariade et La Mallorée.
Le célèbre couple-roi de la fantasy a de nouveau figuré sur les listes des best-sellers avec Le Réveil des anciens dieux, premier volume de la tétralogie Les Rêveurs.
Leigh Eddings s'est éteinte en février 2007 à l'âge de 69 ans, suivi en 2009 par son époux âgé de soixante-dix-sept ans.

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Couverture | Copyright | Table des matières | Extrait | Quatrième de couverture
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3 internautes sur 3 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile  Par batman VOIX VINE le 8 janvier 2004
Format: Broché Achat vérifié
Une histoire dans le genre du "seigneur des anneaux" (JRR Tolkien) ou du moins connu "soleil obscur" (PJ Farmer) : le monde bascule vers le chaos, dans une lutte du bien contre le mal. Un magicien, une sorcière, des gens d'armes, un voleur doublé d'un espion, et des gens ordinaires, composent l'équipe dont le roman nous raconte les aventures. Tout cela se passe dans un monde médiéval, composé de plusieurs royaumes amis ou rivaux. L'écriture est belle, lyrique par moments. Le suspens et les rebondissements sont omni-présents. Jamais de lourdeurs ou de longueurs (contrairement au Seigneur des Anneaux...) : une lecture très agréable, on ne peut pas s'arrêter !
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1 internautes sur 2 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile  Par Maingot Guillaume le 22 novembre 2005
Format: Broché Achat vérifié
Eddings is known to have explained what a fantasy book should contain. IT's true, this story is compelling, and I really enjoyed it. But now, it seems to me that the book aged a bit, and that the book is like a cliché of what a fantasy book should be.
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1 internautes sur 2 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile  Par Green le 14 janvier 2010
Format: Broché Achat vérifié
L'auteur est excellent, son oeuvre exceptionnelle

Mais...

L'éditeur a réalisé un produit de basse facture
Papier recyclé, fin
Encre qui est visible sur l'envers
Couverture fragile
Brochage médiocre
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Amazon.com: 103 commentaires
11 internautes sur 12 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
A timeless fantasy ! 23 avril 2003
Par R.Parklane - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format: Broché Achat vérifié
I read The Belgariad over 10 years ago and has just finished reading the series the second time. I find myself enjoying it even more. The story maybe too familiar, good versus evil with a happy ending but I have a weakness for this kind of story. The strength of the series is the development of the wonderful characters, the smooth plot and of course the dry humour. The Belgariad is simply a timeless fantasy to be treasured.
7 internautes sur 7 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
A must-have series!! 2 septembre 2002
Par Michael N. Talley - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format: Broché
This series started it all for me. It was the first fantasy series I ever read, and I have to say, it's as good a read now, some 15 years later, as it was the first time I picked it up. Hard to believe it's been 20 years in print!!
I can't recommend this series (as well as the Malloreon, to follow) enough. Truly, IMHO it ranks second ONLY to the original Dragonlance Chronicles.
7 internautes sur 7 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
Simply the Best 20 mars 2005
Par Pearlite - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format: Broché
The Belgarad is one of the, if not the, best work of fantasy out there today. I highly recomend it if you like High Fantasy. There are smiles and laughts around every page.
5 internautes sur 5 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
We need all the Garion books on Kindle! 20 août 2009
Par Isaiah R. Tucker - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format: Format Kindle
Why is 'volume 2' the only part of the series available on Kindle? What about part one and what about the sequel, 'the Mallorean'? We fans need to make sure they become available-on the regular amazon website there is an icon on the product page of every book that is not available on kindle: 'would you like to read this on Kindle?' Please visit Eddings' books and click on this link to show them how eager we are to read these books on our kindles!
9 internautes sur 11 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
Concluding Eddings' best work 23 août 2006
Par newyork2dallas - Publié sur Amazon.com
Format: Broché
The Belgariad is Eddings' first and best fantasy series. First published in the mid-1980s, the Belgariad differed from other fantasy fiction because: (1) it was not based on the elf-dwarf-human creature structure like Lord of the Rings and its various copycats (Terry Brooks, Weis/Hickman, Dennis McKeirnan, etc.); (2) it had mature and defined political systems (including a country that popularly elected its king), international relations and ethnic patterns, unlike even the more mature fantasy offerings of Donaldson (Thomas Covenant) and LeGuin (Earthsea); (3) it had a unique formulation of magic -- the will and the word; and (4) it inverted the purpose of the fantasy quest -- the EVIL ONE sleeps and the heroes seek to prevent his awakening BEFORE he begins his attempt to take over the world (again).

Eddings narrative is sly and occasionally slick -- the characters balance seriousness with humor and the dialogue is often very funny. His world is believable because the political and religious interactions make sense. The best feature of the Belgariad is its relative tonal change -- from reflecting the innocent wide-eyed view of young Garion (the hero, farmboy, of course) in Pawn of Prophecy, the next two books become darker and more serious as Garion begins to realize who he is and what is at stake, and he comes to grips with who his "Aunt Pol" and his "Grandfather" really are.

By the time book four, Castle of Wizardry, starts the hero is acting and thinking proactively instead of merely reacting to events or bobbing along with the tide (like in Queen of Sorcery, volume 2). He's grown independent and a good deal wiser. By the end of Book 5, his emotional range includes earned sympathy for his enemy -- a rare trait in the standard fantasy fare.

This volume includes the weakest entry in the series, Castle of Wizardry, where the heroes regroup after a successful end to part one of the quest. But from the second half of Castle onward, the conclusion is full of action.

Eddings' books are something of a quest story with a travelogue in the world he created -- in the Belgariad he leaves no country untouched in the western continent; in the Mallorean the characters go to every major district in "boundless Mallorea" and his other series (Tamuli, Elenium) are similar. Unfortunately, each of the countries' citizens tend toward a stereotype that Eddings establishes for each nation.

If the various Eddings series sound repetitive, that's because they are -- Eddings repeats the same formula with some variations in his other series and the various wisecracking and irreverent humor that is refreshing in the first Eddings series you read becomes tiresome and predictable thereafter.

That said, the Belgariad is the first, the most original and probably the best farmboy-saves-the-world quest of the genre.
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