"Lawrence Watt-Evans - Dus 3 - Sword Of Bheleu" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watt-Evans Lawrence)

had assumed command and had the right to do so. Many of the warriors cheered
when he spoke of showing the Baron that overmen would not be pushed around any
longer. They were obviously glad to be taking action, any action, rather than
standing guard or sitting around doing nothing.
Camp had been broken quickly and with reasonable efficiency; while that
was being done, someone had found Garth an over-the-shoulder sheath for a
two-handed broadsword, so that he was able to carry the Sword of Bheleu slung
on his back, rather than strapped inaccessibly in his warbeast's harness.
When everything was packed away and stored on the back of warbeasts and
overmen-Garth regretted again that no one had thought to bring a supply train;
even a handful of wagons or yackers would have helped-the company was formed
up into something resembling a military formation, rather than a mob. He
placed himself front and center, with Kyrith on his right and Galt on his
left, all mounted on warbeasts. Behind them came a second row of five
warbeasts carrying the overmen Garth thought showed potential. The main body
of troops followed, arranged in ten rows five abreast, arid the remaining five
warbeasts and overmen brought up the rear.
It would have pleased Garth to have the overmen march in step, perhaps
to some rhythmic marching chant such as he had been taught by one of his
great-grandfathers, but he decided it would take more time and effort than it
was worth. If he had time, he thought, he would also have liked to set up a
proper military organization with a command structure that might actually
work, rather than the current loose arrangement. He hoped that such
organization would not be needed. With luck, the troops would not be required
to do anything but stand there looking formidable and that they could do.
When he was satisfied with the formation, he took his place at the head
and gave the order to advance.
Movement was ragged and uneven at first, but the warriors got the hang
of it fairly quickly. By the time they were within fifty yards of the North
Gate, they were moving more or less in unison, staying more or less in their
places in the formation.
Ahead of them, Garth saw the guard at the North Gate turn and run as
they approached. He smiled; it felt good to inspire such obvious fright. Of
course, the guard was just doing his duty, running to alert the village, since
one man could not possibly hope to stop more than sixty overmen, but it was
still pleasant to see.
He glanced back and saw that other overmen were smiling as well.
Then he heard the slap of a bowstring and ducked instinctively. A
crossbow quarrel whirred past his head.
He knew, in a vague and detached way, that he should get down, order his
troops to do the same, and appraise the exact situation before taking any
direct action, but a blinding wave of fury drowned all such logic. He reached
up and grabbed the hilt of the great sword and pulled it from its sheath.
"Human scum!" he bellowed. "You dare defy me?" The sword came free, and
he swung it over his head.
The sun, low in the western sky, vanished behind a cloud at that moment,
and the glow of the jewel was visible to friend and foe alike.
"I am Bheleu, bringer of destruction!" Garth cried. "Who dares stand
against me?"
Two dull snaps sounded, and two more bolts sped toward him; he spun the