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"More than that," said Falov. "Listen."
"I don't hear anything," Sergei whispered.
"Aye, my lord. When the birds grow silent,
there's usually a good reason for it."
My instincts told me it was too late for
stealth. Along with the others, I drew my
sword.
And only just in time.
Screaming and roaring, they burst out from
their cover and fell upon us like white-hot
vengeance. Alek was the closest and the
first to be attacked, but managed to parry
and counter. After that I lost track of him: I
had troubles of my own.
Sparring practice has about as much
resemblance to field combat as a sculpture
has to its subject. It may look the same, but
one is cold stone and the other alive and
moving and reacting to you. The two men
who picked me out for quarry had some
battle experience, but were undisciplined.
I'd rather face a well-trained soldier than
such amateurs, for the latter could often be
dangerously unpredictable.
The one on my left charged in first,
perhaps thinking it was my weaker side. I
got my blade up, moved it so his slid down
its length, and before he could break away,
got him between the ribs with my parrying
dagger. It did not sink in as deeply as it
should have, nor was I able to wrest it out
for another try. He must have had mail on
under his coat; worse, he didn't seem to be
aware he'd been stabbed.
His partner crashed into me, knocking me
over. I felt my breath go as one of his
knees dug into my gut, but he'd left
himself open. Even without air I was able
to smash the pommel of my sword into his
face. I felt bones give under the blow, and
his nose spouted blood.
The first man, my dagger sticking absurdly
from his side, raised his blade to bring it
down on my head. With the other man on
top of me, I could not possibly dodge it.
Desperate, I grabbed his friend by the
clothes and pulled hard, dragging him
between us like a shield. The sword buried
itself into the wrong skull, as far as both
opponents were concerned. Not a pleasant
sound, that, but better hearing it happen to
another than to me.
My shield's body collapsed onto mine; I
was still struggling for breath. He lent a
whole new meaning to the term "dead
weight." Pushing and grunting, I surged up
and heaved him off, shoving him hopefully
in the direction of the other man. Alas, he
wasn't where I'd thought, and the ploy was
a wasted effort.
Something hit my side. Damn, but it was
almost in the same spot where the Ba'al
Verzi had gotten me. More lost breath, but
I swung around, keeping my blade up to
protect my head. Good thing, too, for his
return swipe would have otherwise taken it
right off. I blocked it and cut forward and
down, finally winging one of his
shoulders.
He'd had enough and turned to run.
Honor has no place in this type of fight.
One might as well question whether it is
more honorable to kill a roach while it's
holding still or wait until it's moving. But
the fact is, a roach is a roach, and the
object is simply to kill it. Five running
steps and I'd caught up with this two-
legged specimen. On the sixth step he was
at my feet, firmly skewered in the back and
shuddering out the last of his life. I didn't
waste time watching him, but pulled out
the blade, retrieved my dagger from his
side, and turned to help the others.
Alek was nowhere in sight. Sergei had
killed one man and was busy circling with
another. Falov was on her knees, face
white, and clutching her arm. Her attacker
was on his back with a knife in his throat
and not doing much of anything.
"Damn," said Falov, and fumbled for a
horn dangling from her belt. She just
managed to sound it, giving the signal for
the rest of the men to come ahead. Better
late than never.
"Where's Commander Gwilym?"
Falov pointed ahead down the road. She
winced, and I understood that she'd been
wounded as well, but not badly. Sergei was
still holding his own; actually, he looked
like he was toying with the man. I left him
to it and rushed away to find Alek.
I found another body instead. The road
made a sharp turn, the outer shoulder
marked by whitewashed rocks. This was
necessary since the land dropped away
beyond them. The man was dead from a
sword cut there are few other weapons
that make just that sort of wound but
neither the blade that killed him nor Alek
was anywhere to be found. There was no
blood on the bandit's sword, hopefully
meaning my steward was yet unharmed.
The tracks, such as they were, were too
confusing to read well. Dust and grass
were churned up, right to the base of the
rocks. No other tracks led away up the
road, Alek must have&
I looked over the edge and found him,
lying spread-eagle on his back on a rocky
shelf that slanted just like a roof. He'd slid
part way to its edge and was within a
heartbeat of sliding farther. It wouldn't
have taken much: just beyond his feet the
angle turned to a true vertical, dropping
hard away. I couldn't see the bottom.
"I've got you," I said and fell to my belly,
my arms hanging down toward him. "No,
don't look up, I'll come to you."
His slight movement caused him to slip
away by a handsbreadth. "Don't," he said
between clenched teeth.
I didn't bother arguing, just inched toward
him. My feet were hooked over the rocks
above. Pebbles tumbled ahead of me,
lodging in Alek's hair.
"Don't, Strahd," he whispered. "I'll drag
you down, too."
My fingers closed on his wrist. Now for
the other one.
The ground under him shifted. He slipped
down a little more. I tightened my grip.
"Don't move, damn you."
He didn't, but the earth was not as obedient
to my will. A piece of it dropped away
below his boot heels. Some seconds later
we heard a distant crash as it struck
whatever lay below. He muttered
something, a prayer, perhaps, and went
still as a corpse. Useless. He slid a bit more
and I went with him. My ankles and my
arm were feeling the strain of holding our
combined weight, and my head felt heavy
and swollen from the rush of blood
between my ears.
"Let& me go," he breathed.
I gripped all the harder. I didn't dare yell
for help. Our balance was so precarious
that anything could upset it.
"Let me die alone, Strahd."
"No."
"I've no wish to kill you, my lord."
"Shut up."
Another slip. My gloves were sodden with
sweat. I couldn't feel my fingers grasping
anymore. I felt only the pain in my legs,
spine, and neck. My shoulders&
The rock my feet were hooked over [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]