Книга только для ознакомления
. They watched his face
anxiously, contorted as it was by his all-consuming rage.
Hesitantly, one of them opened his mouth.
"But, Excellency," stammered the grizzled battle veteran.
"They fight like demons, madly possessed! They have
weapons and discipline. You, yourself, have smelled the
noxious gasses they cast - and they hide behind that wall,
out of our reach!"
"And the fires!" chimed in his comrade. "The savants
were totally blinded - and the rest of the troops suffered
great pain!"
"You fools! I will tolerate no further delay! Attack again!"
Pitrick sputtered, his voice a shrill scream.
"But -" A sergeant opened his mouth to object, then shut
it when he saw the look in his commander's eyes.
"No delay," Pitrick said, his voice dropping to a sinister
hiss. Unconsciously, his hand grasped the five-headed iron
amulet than hung at his chest. Blue light seeped between his
fingers, and the eyes of his sergeants grew wide with terror.
The light seethed like thick smoke in a growing cloud
around him, slowly reaching toward the cringing figures of
his warriors.
Pitrick's vision vanished in the red blur of his hatred
|
