Книга только для ознакомления
.
Another huge yellow hand came down. Marakion didn't
have enough leverage to sidestep. The jagged claws raked
his left side. He grabbed hold of the forearm and slammed
Glint's pommel into the ogre's left eye. A follow-up strike
cracked into the side of the bark-skinned head. The ogre
reeled backward, stunned. Marakion hit it again and again.
Snow exploded outward as the huge body fell heavily to
the ground. Jumping forward, Marakion hovered over the
ogre like a dark angel, clenching Glint tightly in his fist. His
breathing was hard and quick. He stared down at the ogre,
waiting for it to rise again, waiting for it to attack.
The ogre didn't rise, though the eyes fluttered open.
Marakion raised his finely honed arm, preparing to end the
creature's life, then he paused. The rough yellow hide was
pulled tight over the protrusion of the creature's ribs; the
bloody, bruised face was gaunt. The ogre's muscles were
thin, hunger-wasted.
Marakion lowered Glint. The ogre struggled sluggishly
to get up, only to fail and plunge back into the snow. It
raised its arms a bit in a feeble attempt to ward off another
blow - one that never descended.
This wasn't a monster, Marakion thought, just another
creature devastated by the Cataclysm, whose life had been
turned upside down, ruined, like his own. The ogre was just
trying to survive. Marakion wondered what lengths he
would go to if he were starving. Definitely he wouldn't be
above eating ogre flesh.
Marakion noticed the young boy watching his
deliberation
|
