At Winter's End

At Winter's End

Robert Silverberg

Language: English

Pages: 404

ISBN: 0446513849

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

From the Five-Time Nebula Award-Winner
Seven thousand centuries ago, falling death stars unleashed fiery apocalyptic destruction on Earth and inaugurated the Long Winter. One small band of People took refuge in an underground cocoon where they and their descendants waited for the time of ice to end. Now their long winter is over. Prophecy and circumstance urge the tribe out into the half-forgotten world beyond their safe cocoon. Led by their chieftain Koshmar, the tribe journeys to the city of Vengiboneeza, where the prophecy of the gods says they are to rule. On their way the tribe discovers the dangers and wonders of life in the New Springtime. In the face of new temptations and peril, Koshmar and her lover, the priestess Torlyri, struggle to keep the People united and fulfill the prophecy. For soon they will be beset by other trials, as other beings seek to fulfill their own prophecies.
Robert Silverberg provides an introduction exclusive to this Bison Books edition.

The Great Bazaar; Brayan's Gold (Demon Cycle, Books 1.5 & 1.6)

The Undead Situation

After the Fall, Before the Fall, During the Fall

The Dead and the Gone (The Last Survivors, Book 2)

Host (Rogue Mage, Book 3)




















between us and the humans? Then the humans are higher than the gods?” “Higher than our gods, boy. Higher than Nakhaba, higher than the Five. But not higher than the Creator, who made them as well as us and all else. Do you see the hierarchy?” Noum om Beng drew vast structures in the air with the tip of a finger. The Creator here, at the highest place, the great Sixth of whom Hresh had once speculated; and here the humans, some distance below; and here Nakhaba; and here the Five; and here, lower

your place. We should not occupy it long. Taniane leads us southward, and we will find a home for ourselves there, until we know where the gods mean to carry us next.” “Taniane is chieftain, then,” said Salaman in wonder. “Well, it was what she dreamed. How did Koshmar die?” “Of sadness, I think. And weariness. But also of knowing that she had completed her task. Koshmar lived nobly and died nobly too. She brought us out of the cocoon to Vengiboneeza, and she sent us onward from there to our

quarters, the number of workers they employed, tactics of competition in the marketplace, and other such strangenesses. They had begun to divide into classes: rulers, owners, workers, poor. Nor were the old tribal lines completely erased. They were fading, yes. But Koshmars and Bengs had not yet entirely forgotten that they had been Koshmars and Bengs; and then there were all the others, the Hombelions and Debethins and Stadrains and Mortirils and the rest, the proud little tribes gradually

decided then by Koshmar the chieftain that the tribe would seek Vengiboneeza the great city of the sapphire-eyes, for it might be possible there to find secret things that would be of value in the repeopling of the world.’” Hresh stared at her and did nothing. “Go on, write that down. You can write, can’t you? You haven’t wasted my time in this? Have you? Have you? Write, Hresh, or by Dawinno I’ll have you skinned and made into a pair of boots for these cold nights. Write!” “Yes,” he murmured.

wildness. Then the breeding pairs had caught the fever, Nittin and Nettin, Jalmud and Valmud, Preyne and Threyne. Plainly enough, all three pairs had accomplished their season’s work—there was no question of it, you could see their swelling bellies—and yet there they were, coupling zealously the whole day long anyway as though someone might accuse them of defaulting on their duty. And at last the older members of the tribe had been infected by the new restlessness: Thaggoran sniffing around the

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