"Lawrence Watt-Evans - Dus 1 - Lure Of The Basilisk" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watt-Evans Lawrence)

messily from his mount, which shied away in terror, eyes rolling.
Even as the man died, Garth heard two screams, one human and one
hideously inhuman; the warbeast was defending itself. Its low growl could be
heard as the screaming subsided, but Garth dared not take the time to look to
see what was happening; he was again beset, this time by a yelling maniac
charging at him with saber swinging. Not caring to risk the strength of his
sword's metal against the swooping arc of the saber, Garth ducked low and
thrust his blade at the man's mount. The saber whistled over his head. His own
weapon slashed open the animal's belly and was almost torn from his grasp by
the momentum of the creature's charge. The thing screamed, horribly, then
fell, flinging its master aside; Garth could spare no further attention for it
as two more mounted warriors approached, much more cautiously.
This pair showed the first teamwork the attackers bad displayed;
approaching from opposite sides, they swung their blades in unison, both
aiming for the body rather than the head. The overman parried one blade while
attempting to dodge the other, but was not totally successful. His breastplate
took the blow he had attempted to dodge, the sword scraping across it,
bruising his body beneath, while his parry locked with the other blade,
notching the overman's weapon and requiring three vital seconds to untangle.
Thus delayed, Garth was unable to defend himself against a second blow
from his other antagonist. Seeing the blade approaching, he attempted to dodge
again. He was lucky; the blade became entangled in his cloak, grazing his
shoulder lightly. Awkwardly, Garth dropped his left hand from his sword hilt
and drew his dagger. Maintaining his guard as best he could with the
broadsword on his right, he turned his attention to the left and hacked with
his dagger at the hand that held the entangled sword. The man released his
weapon, his wrist gouged messily, and Garth turned his attention once again to
the right.
Throughout this exchange Garth could feel the warbeast moving about
behind him, and a constant accompaniment of growling, screaming, and shouting
filled the overman's ears. Rage began to overcome him, and rather than
continue the defensive, cautious fighting he had been using up to that point,
he went on the offensive. Depending on his vastly superior strength and reach,
he drove forward, blade swinging.
From that point on, things happened too fast for Garth to follow
consciously: he hacked down at least two more warriors, one mounted and one on
foot; at least one sword broke before the fury of his onslaught; blood
spattered his cloak and armor, some of it his own, but mostly human.
 Then, abruptly, the fight was over. A cry went up calling the retreat,
and Garth found himself standing alone, ten feet from his mount, with dead and
dying men strewn about him. His rage subsided abruptly, to be replaced with
revulsion; he did not approve of unnecessary bloodshed, and this gory mess
seemed definitely unnecessary.
Disgusted, he looked about, ignoring the handful of survivors fleeing to
the southeast. Nine men lay unmoving around him, with three of their strange
beasts. Three of the men were obviously dead, their throats ripped out by the
warbeast. Two of the animals were the same. The third downed animal was the
one Garth had gutted with his sword. The overman was not certain whether a
trace of life remained or not. Since he obviously could do nothing for the
creature if it still lived, he killed it as swiftly as he could with his