Книга только для ознакомления
. But Horgan circled faster, until he
once again stood before the narrow bridge.
Furious, the centurion urged his steed to the very brink
of the gorge, took a vicious cut at Horgan with his sword.
The dwarf dodged underneath the singing steel. Chopping
savagely, Horgan hacked his axe into the rider's leg.
The man screamed in pain and terror as he struggled to
keep his balance. The horse skipped away from the cliff's
edge. The wounded man toppled to the ground, landing
heavily at the brink of the precipitous drop.
"You're no better than that ogre!" hissed the centurion.
His fingers grasped and tore at the grass as he slipped
toward oblivion. "The gods curse all of you who would
thwart the Kingpriest's justice!"
Horgan watched the human slide over the lip of the
cliff, uprooted grass tufted in his clenched fingers as his
feet kicked empty air. The centurion twisted into space, his
face a mask of stark terror. Then, his red cloak billowing
around him, the man smashed onto the boulders of the
stream bed. The dye of the robe blended with his blood,
flowing downward through the rapid stream.
(Note, Excellency, if you will forgive my aside, that
once again we have this image of blood flowing downhill
to Istar
|
