Книга только для ознакомления
. Wingover
lifted his shield, peering over its edge. Atop a narrow
draw, barely a hundred yards away, something moved.
It looked like a twig twitching in the wind... except
that twigs twitch rhythmically, and this one didn't. It
moved, disappeared below the rim of the draw, and re-
appeared a few yards away. Its direction was toward the
point where his own path would cross the draw.
So they're waiting for me there, he decided. But how
many?
Wingover reined a little to the left, holding hard
against the bit, then let Geekay have his head. The horse
had never been trained as a warhorse - not as some he
had seen, great steeds in armor, ridden by men in armor,
silent men who had come down from Solamnia once
many years before in search of a fugitive - but Wingover
and Geekay had traveled far together and had been in
some scrapes.
With the bit eased and the scent of goblins in his nos-
trils, and with the tug to the left from his rider, Geekay
took the lead. As the horse gathered himself, Wingover
jumped to the ground and headed for the draw at a
crouching run, angling to the right. Behind him, Geekay
whinnied shrilly and galloped away to the left. Fifty
yards... one hundred... then he turned and headed
for the draw
|