Книга только для ознакомления
. He
clenched his teeth, his breath coming in hissing gasps, as he
again struggled to retain his self-control.
"We attack now, Excellency!" stammered one of the ser-
geants. They turned, stumbling in their eagerness to escape
their maddened leader.
Pitrick took a pace after them, still tempted to sizzle one
of them into nothingness as a lesson against the conse-
quences of failure. But that single step sent throbbing ar-
rows of agony darting up his leg, and he winced, forgetting
for the moment his recalcitrant subcommanders.
By the dark powers, his foot hurt! He screeched his ag-
ony, a sound of fury that frightened those troops within ear-
shot. Then Pitrick limped after the two sergeants. He would
find the savants, speak to them himself. Then they would
know the folly of retreat!
He located, after long and painful minutes of walking, the
six robed figures of his spellcasting savants. They squatted
on the muddy ground of the field, pressing cold compresses
of slushy grass to their seared eyes.
"Fools! Idiots! Morons!" he shrieked, walking among
them and kicking the startled derro to their feet. "You can't
stop now! The enemy strikes us a blow, then we must strike
him back - harder!"
"But, Master," screeched one, groveling on his knees and
holding his eyes downcast
|
