"Jeffrey Lord - Blade 18 - Warlords of Gaikon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lord Jeffery)

to the death.


Chapter 5
«^»
The sword whistled down. Blade angled the poker downward to make the sword strike it a glancing
blow. He suspected that an overhead slash from that sword would hack through even the tough iron of
the poker.
The sword came down, struck with a terrific clang, and glanced off. But the other man swung it up
into position again almost faster than Blade's eye could follow. Blade shifted his grip on the poker, now
holding it upright. His opponent was watching him more closely now. The man's eyes were still filled with
rage and also now with curiosity. That made him more dangerous. He might not swing in wild fury again,
but use his skill instead. The sword seemed to hover, the light glinting from it.
Blade never found out what the man would have done next. The curtain burst open again and another
man in a shorter and plainer blue robe dashed into the kitchen. He took up a position by the door,
bowed quickly to the first man, and drew his own sword. The first man nodded. Blade saw his hands
tighten on his sword.
Then the curtain flew open a third time. Blade had a moment's glimpse of a slim figure, clad only in
wide black trousers and carrying his drawn sword in front of him. Then the second swordsman whirled to
confront the new arrival. The new arrival's sword seemed to leap toward the ceiling like a living thing, the
blade reaching up and slicing the air as though trying to bring down a bird on the wing. The other's sword
started to follow it. Then the first sword came down as fast as it had gone up, slashing from the side.
There was a sound like a butcher chopping meat and a gasping grunt from the second swordsman. He
dropped his sword, staggered, twisting completely around, and toppled to the floor. Blood sprayed out
through the slash that had cut him open from armpit to breastbone, and some of it sprayed onto the
hearth. The pungent smell of burning human blood rose into the room.
The old woman gasped and tottered. Blade reached out and clamped one hand on the neck of her
robe to keep her from toppling into the fire. His opponent made no effort to take advantage of his
moment's distraction. Instead he turned to look at the newcomer. After a moment Blade did the same.
The newcomer was a young man—his bare chest and arms were layered with sinewy muscles, but
the face above it was almost boyish. Blade wondered if he was much more than twenty or so. He bent to
wipe his sword on the robe of his victim, then sheathed it and crossed his arms on his chest.
"Honorable Captain Jawai, what is your purpose in this fight?" His voice was as quiet as that of a
man ordering a drink in a conservativeLondon club, and it carried the same tone—he was unquestionably
expecting a proper answer. It subdued Jawai, who sheathed his own sword and bowed low. Blade
realized that the newcomer might not be his friend, but he did not seem a friend of Jawai either.
"This man," said Jawai, jerking his head at Blade. "This—dirty lout—blasphemed the Igumasi Temple
of Kunkoi, assaulting both the priestess and the guards. He then fled, and apparently stole the robe of a
dabuno from one of my servants while she was washing it in the stream earlier this evening."
The young swordsman nodded. "I recognize the robe he is wearing."
"Word came from the temple by messenger to look for a very tall and strong man, pale-skinned but
probably with paint smeared on his chest. The servant-girl Kika told me that a Lonely Brother just like
that was in the kitchen, saying that he was under the dem vow. I forced her to confess the loss of your
robe and punished her for it."
"I heard," said the young man.
"Then I entered the kitchen, to kill the blasphemer and avenge the honor of Kunkoi. What happened
after that you know well." Jawai could not keep the anger entirely out of his voice as he finished.
The young man nodded slowly. "Was the temple damaged in any way, or any blood shed in the
precincts?"
"A scaffolding fell down, and the captain of the guards was knocked unconscious. But—"