"Troy Denning - Dark Sun - Prism Pentad 04 - Obsidian Oracle" - читать интересную книгу автора (Denning Troy)

were strapped to their backs.
Neeva knew instantly that the slavers had not chosen her village by chance. Whoever had planned the attack
knew of Kled's secret wealth and where to find it, for the howdahs of the first two inixes brimmed over with riches
stolen from behind the Sunbird Gate: bronze armor, steel axes and swords, even the golden crowns of ancient kings.
It crossed the commander's mind that the slave-taking had been nothing more than a diversion for the inix-mounted
thieves, but she quickly rejected that idea. The raiders' losses were too severe to be a mere distraction.
When Neeva saw the contents of the third lizard's howdah, all thoughts of the slavers' motivations slipped from
her mind. Instead of treasure, this beast carried two men. One was a burly human dressed in polished leather, holding
a steel long sword that he had no doubt stolen from Kled's armories. The other, a hateful-looking half-elf with a short
black beard and sharp features, wore a billowing robe and carried no weapon. Instead, he held the struggling form of
a young boy. Although the child was only five years old, he already stood as tall as most dwarves, with a thick-boned
body covered in sinew and muscle. Completely bald, he had a square jaw, angry red eyes, and pointed ears that lay
close to his head.
"Rkard!" Neeva gasped, sprinting down the alley after her son's kidnappers.
She had no need to ask herself why the raiders had taken her son instead of filling the third howdah with more
treasure. The boy was a mul, a human-dwarf crossbreed who would bring a small fortune in any city with a slave
market. Blessed with the powerful frame of his dwarven father and Neeva's human agility, he would be sent to the
gladiatorial pits and cultivated into an arena champion. Having spent her own childhood in the pits, Rkard's mother
knew firsthand the horrors that would await him there.
Neeva reached the end of the alley and leaped the inix's whipping tail. She plunged a short sword through the
scales on the beast's flank and used it to pull herself atop its rear quarters. The lizard roared in pain and tried to whip
its head around to snap at her, but the driver thrust the tip of his lance toward the thing's lidless eye.
"Forward, Slas!" he cried, and the creature continued to scurry down the avenue.
Neeva yelled, "Rkard, be ready!"
The boy stopped struggling and raised one small hand toward the sky. At the same time, the armored raider
leaned out of the howdah, slashing at Neeva's head with his steel sword. She blocked with her free sword, then
circled the blade over the top of her attacker's weapon to disarm him. Unfortunately, the slaver was no stranger to a
fight. He pulled his sword away before she could whip it from his hand.
"What's wrong with you, Frayne?" demanded the half-elf holding Rkard. "Kill the wench!"
"I'm no wench," Neeva growled, gaining her feet. "And that boy will be no one's slave!"
The angry mother pulled her first sword from the inix's flank and launched herself at the howdah. She attacked
with a double chasing pattern, slashing at Frayne's longer weapon with first one blade, then moving forward to slice
at his vulnerable face or throat with the one trailing. The astonished slaver had no choice but to give way, and Neeva
leaped over the howdah's wall with her third series of thrusts.
Frayne stepped forward to take advantage of the temporary lapse in Neeva's attack, thrusting at her abdomen.
She twisted her body in midair and snapped her front foot around to kick the slaver in the head. His blade slipped
harmlessly past her midriff, and he fell against the far side of the howdah, barely raising his weapon in time to block
a down-stroke that would have split his skull.
With the grace of an elven rope-dancer, Neeva landed between Frayne and the half-elf holding Rkard. Her son's
captor, she noted, had slipped one hand into the pocket of his robe, no doubt to retrieve the components of a magical
spell. He was so concerned with Neeva that he did not notice her son's small hand glowing red with the power of the
crimson sun.
Neeva pointed a sword at each of the men's throats. "Let my son go," she said. "He's of no value to dead men-
and rest assured, you won't leave Kled alive."
"I'm afraid that isn't your choice," said the half-elf, withdrawing his hand from his pocket.
Rkard thrust his glowing hand toward his captor's face. Neeva looked away long enough to beat Frayne's guard
down. A red light flashed behind her, then the half-elf screamed in surprise. She glanced back and saw the sorcerer's
hands over his blinded eyes. Then she separated his head from his shoulders with a vicious slash.
By the time Neeva returned her attention to Frayne, the raider's sword was already slicing at her unprotected
knees. She jumped the slash, bringing one of her blades around low and the other high to block the expected