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

sword.
Of the six men still more or less intact, investigation showed three
dead of sword wounds, one with a broken neck resulting from being flung from
his mount, one with a slashed wrist and a gash across his chest, unconscious
from loss of blood, and the last, his leg trapped beneath his fallen mount,
still alive and struggling.
His struggles grew frantic as Garth approached, then ceased when he
realized that he could not free himself. The overman looked at him and, seeing
no obvious wounds, decided the man could wait. Ignoring the barbarian's
terrified cringing, he motioned for the warbeast to stand guard over the
trapped man. The creature padded silently over and stood motionless, its
fearsome, blood-soaked jaws directly above the man's face, dripping gore on
the mud by his ear.
Garth then turned his attention to the unconscious warrior; stripping
off the man's armor and clothing, he used the cloth linings to improvise
bandages and bind the wounds. He was displeased to see the dull white fabric
turn bright red in a matter of seconds; the cuts were deeper than they
appeared. Momentarily leaving the man where he lay, he fetched his own medical
supplies from the pack on his mount's back.
The trapped barbarian asked hesitantly, "What are you doing?"
Garth did not bother to answer, but returned to his patient and
carefully removed the bloody bandages. He cleaned the wounds as best he could,
applied what healing herbs and drugs he felt he could spare, and bound them
anew with fresh wrappings. When he was satisfied that he had done all he
could, he arranged the warrior as comfortably as he could on the man's own
furs, covered him with furs from one of his dead companions, and placed a
sword beside the man's right hand so that he could defend himself, against any
carrion-eaters that might wake him.
This done, he turned his attention to his own wounds; none were serious,
but there were many of them. He had undoubtedly lost at least as much blood as
the unconscious human he had just treated. Upon realizing this, he realized as
well that he was very weary and that his entire body was laced with pain.
Still, he drove himself to complete the dressing of his injuries and then to
turn at last to his conscious captive.
Standing beside the warbeast, looking down at the pinned barbarian,
Garth demanded, "Are you in pain?"
"My leg hurts."
"The trapped one?"
"Yes."
The overman muttered a command to the warbeast. It growled softly, then
reached down, grabbed the dead animal's ruined neck in its teeth, and lifted
the creature's front half off the ground as if it weighed no more than a
mouthful of hay. The barbarian quickly pulled his leg free, and the warbeast
bit down, so that the animal's body fell heavily to one side while its head
fell to the other. Garth watched as a curious grimace crossed the face of his
captive. He had had too little contact with humanity to realize that the man
was struggling to keep from vomiting. The barbarian turned his head away from
the grisly ruin of his mount and the unsettling sight of the warbeast chewing
contentedly, and asked his captor, "What are you going to do with me?"
"Does your leg still hurt?"