"Bunch, Chris - Seer King 1 - Seer King" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bunch Chris)

His failing isn't that uncommon, either, and can be found almost
anywhere in civilian life as well as the military: a sin-



gle weakness that hews a deep canyon through a man's honor.
For some it is women, for some it is pride, for some it is gaming.
Captain Lanett's failing was his love of sport, more precisely rol.
Off the field, he was a model of rectitude, but once mounted,
hammer in hand, he would do anything to win a match, including
spearing an opponent if a weapon had been given him and the
referees' backs were turned.

The game was a match between the regiment's troops, and I was
determined my Cheetah Troop would carry the day. I had been
picked to ride forward, the position most likely to score, and
things were going very well. I'd driven two goals in during the first
quarter and heard cheering from the twenty-five men of my
column. The match had swayed back and forth down the field, a
grand melee, until, in the final quarter, I'd picked up another two
goals and the score was tied, -both. We were on the defense,
and I was trying to hold back the other side's halfback and back,
my pony skittering from side to side of the grassy ground.

Captain Lanett came pelting down on our goal, tapping the wood
ahead of him, about to let fly, and I was at full gallop trying to
catch him. My mount was slightly faster, and I cut in from his blind
side, and slashed, backhanding the ball away from him toward his
goal. I heard the captain shout, but paid no mind, wheeling my
pony and driving back toward the ball. Behind me came the
thunder of the captain's horse, but I paid no mind, with an eternity
to strike, that one-foot-wide goal yawning as wide as an elephant
trap, and I snapped my mallet back and smashed the ball directly
into the center of the net, and I bellowed victory, and there came
another shout from behind.

I pulled my horse up, and turned. The adjutant had reined in, and
had one hand clasped to his leg.

"You son of a bitch," he shouted. "You fouled me back there, and
now again! I'll have your ass for this!"

He turned in his saddle and shouted to the referees, "Judges!
This man struck me twice, and I wish penalty!"

The stands were shouting, some for victory, some wonder-

*

ing what madness the officers had come up with this time, but the