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- Herausgeber: Titan Books
- Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
- Sprache: Englisch
Something has happened on the shores of a lake in the hills of Zalgara: a village has appeared overnight. The inhabitants seem to be perfectly normal, and they act as if they were always there. But they aren't, and they weren't. Can Kull of Atlantis and Brule the Spear-slayer unravel the enigma?
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025
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Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Kull: The Talons of Deep Time
About the Author
THE TALONSOF DEEP TIME
FRANCESCO DIMITRI
KULL: THE TALONS OF DEEP TIME
E-book edition ISBN: 9781835416853
Published by Titan Books
A division of Titan Publishing Group Ltd
144 Southwark Street, London SE1 0UP
www.titanbooks.com
First edition: October 2025
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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead (except for satirical purposes), is entirely coincidental.
© 2025 Robert E. Howard Properties LLC (“REHP”). KULL, ROBERT E. HOWARD, and related logos, names and character likenesses thereof are trademarks or registered trademarks of REHP. Heroic Signatures is a trademark of Cabinet Licensing LLC.
Francesco Dimitri asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
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KULL:THE TALONSOF DEEP TIME
FRANCESCO DIMITRI
The village should not exist, and yet it did, beyond any question. It lay in the hills of Zalgara, by an ephemeral river which only flowed after especially heavy rains. The riverbed had been dry for three centuries, or perhaps four, before Kull rose to the throne of Valusia. Many had forgotten the river had ever flowed at all. In the time of Kull, the Cloud River—that was its name—was nothing more than a memory, an echo. It was fodder for folk wisdom and jokes. People would say of an unusual occurrence, such as the birth of a two-headed calf, that such things happened ‘every once in a while, when the Cloud River flows.’ Those who were known to be often late for their meetings (with friends or foes) would be told to show up ‘before the Cloud River returns.’
That season had seen weather as heavy as a punch in the guts from a Pictish warrior. Thick, relentless rain had fallen over the hills day after day, welcomed at first, then looked at with dismay, then outright feared. The tribes of the hills would work their darkest arts to try to make it stop, but the rain went on unfazed by their frenzied dances, their barbarous calls, the smoke of their sacrifices. The priests prayed; the rain kept falling.
Until, on a moonless night, it left by its own devices. The downpour trickled to a light shower, then to a drizzle, then to nothing at all. The cessation woke up the hill folks, who had become accustomed to the constant rumble of the rain. They came out of their dwellings and found themselves shrouded in fog as white as snow and as thick as the rain had been. If a man were to extend his arm in front of his face, he would see his hand disappear. Voices and calls seemed to come from a long distance away, even when the other person was just by one’s side. People would get lost in the places in which they had spent their whole life. Nothing was familiar anymore.
The folks were weary and feared that the fog would stay for too long, like the rain had done. But it lifted after only three days, leaving behind a springtime sunshine, warm and promising. People could see the hills again, the cattle and the grass. And they could see the Cloud River. It had come back in its roaring glory: it flowed as if it had never stopped, swallowing its waters in youthful blue and dark green.
By its shore, there was a village.
