"Clayton Emery - Netheril 01 - Sword Play" - читать интересную книгу автора (Emery Clayton)

Sword Play
Book 1 of The Netheril Trilogy
By Clayton Emery
Ebook version 1.0
Release Date: November, 21th, 2003
 In the road ahead shimmered a gilt-edged portal like a ring around the sun. Swooping from the
middle came a huge yellow glob only vaguely man-shaped. Its jellyfish arms had enfolded Ruellana
and were dragging her toward the shining portal.
Unsheathing Harvester as he ran, Sunbright dove and grabbed Ruellana's boot with his free hand.
He stabbed at the creature, but to no avail. The woman was hauled steadily into the glittering portal.
Greenwillow ran to the barbarian's side, grabbed his arm, and tugged. "Let go!" the elf shrilled.
"You can't help her!"
"I can't desert her now! I didn't desert you!"
"But she's not what she seems!" the elf wailed. "Don't—"
"Get to Dalekeva!" Sunbright roared. "I'll meet you there!"
Then, hanging on to only a foot, the barbarian lunged headfirst at the portal, now no bigger than his
hips. With a twinkle of golden light on his hobnailed boots, he was gone.
The Netheril Trilogy
Sword Play
Clayton Emery
Dangerous Games
(available November 1996)
Dedicated to Hunter, My Best Bud
 Chapter 1
They'd seen him climbing, and he'd seen them following. He'd scaled as high and fast as he could,
but they'd pursued, and now he was trapped.
Making the best of a bad situation, the young barbarian selected a pocket in the sheer wall of red-
gray granite. The pocket curled around to his left, then broke off jaggedly. A trail trickling through the
mountains kissed the jagged edge, but after that descended into a gorge full of shadows. The shadows
he could have used to hide in, despite the midday sun, but he'd peered over the edge and seen the trail
was too steep. He'd be tripping down it, wary of breaking his neck and unable to turn around, his back
a perfect target when his enemies arrived. He settled for rolling a round boulder into the trail as a
temporary barricade. Then he stayed put. They could attack only from the front and the left, and would
have to mount a short slope to do it, so they couldn't flank him. As long as they didn't have missile
weapons—arrows or slings—he could fight hand to hand to match any warrior.
The sunny cliff was warm against his back as he waited—perhaps to die. It was coming on winter,
especially here in the high country bordering the Barren Mountains. The thin wind that sighed and
soughed around his legs was cool, but would bite after sundown—if he were still alive to feel it. Away
from the warm cliff, patches of snow hugged the northern side of the rocks. It was all rocks here above
the tree line, which was a clean cut, as if by the knife of a titan. Sunbright wondered if the gods were
closer up here, and if so, to whom he should pray. Garagos, god of war, to give him strength in the
fight to come? Or Tyche, Lady Luck? Somehow neither seemed appropriate, so he sent a common
prayer for help and guidance to Chauntea, the Earthmother. She was laid out before his feet, miles and
miles of scrubby trees down a long sweeping valley over which red-tailed hawks and vultures soared.
Sunbright might be visiting her soonest, after all. But if so, he wouldn't go alone. A grunt from below
brought his sword up.
They skulked out of the tree line, seven of them. Orcs, but not the usual variety. These had gray-
green skin, lank black hair, pug noses, and long knotted arms. They moved warily, watching him and
not charging to crush his skull as the usual idiots did.
But this lot, seen for the first time close up, were oddly neat. They wore actual uniforms, almost