"Brian Daley - Doomfarers of Coramonde" - читать интересную книгу автора (Daley Brian)

ogre's terrifying aspect. His mouth had gone dune dry and he realized that to oppose Archog or, in
his killing rage, even to impede him, would mean death. What would it profit to die?
But for a scant second, Hightower tore his gaze from the creature tramping to confront him and
fixed the Prince with his eye. That look said nothing of expectation or resentment; there was no
bitterness because Hightower had come to help him only to lose his own life. It was, Springbuck
saw in that one instant, the Duke's way of ensuring that the Prince would see and understand. It
simply said, "I am Hightower. This is how I live, and how I can die, if it comes to that."
And that stark message came through so well that the Prince lurched forward to join the Duke, and
hi the impact of the moment, none noticed the sob that escaped him. But he was seized from either
side by the guardsmen and held fast in armored hands; in a moment the eight archers had leveled
unswerving arrowheads at his breast. He stopped struggling to watch as the ogre closed with


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Hightower.
The Duke waited, perhaps bitter with himself for leaving his own liege men outside Earthfast; he
exhibited none of the confidence he had shown with Synfors.
12
THE DOOMFARERS OF CORAMONDE
He shifted his grip on his sword and, uttering a piercing war cry, threw himself forward at his
new enemy, swinging a savage blow.
But Archog met the Duke's weapon with his own with such terrific energy that the man's sword broke
hi two. Stunned, Hightower fell back on one knee, holding the useless quillons and stump of his
blade before him as if his sword were still whole.
With a scream that had no message but animal anguish and loss, the Prince, beyond any care or
caution for his own life, shook his captors loose and fumbled at the ranker's belt for his sword.
The captain should have jumped back and let the archers do their work, which would have pleased
his Queen well; but in the heat of the moment he instead brought down an iron-girt fist and dashed
Springbuck into semiconsciousness.
Archog advanced and swung again, this time knocking aside the Duke's sword stump and beheading
him. The ogre stood over his victim's body, which streamed its hot life's blood across the floor,
and his bone-chilling gaze lifted slowly to Fania, no trace of elation or rancor hi it, awaiting
further instruction.
Fania, whey-faced and glassy-eyed at the ghastly scene, tried to find her voice but couldn't.
Again she turned to Yardiff Bey, and once more appeared to summon composure from that source.
"Take the . . . remains of the traitors away,'* Fania managed at last in a subdued tone.
Archog stooped and straightened, to move toward the portals, the Duke's body under one arm and the
head cupped in the other gauntleted paw. Synfbrs' body was carried away, too. Finally the Prince
was lifted by the two guardsmen.
In the whirling haze that had settled around him, Springbuck shrank back before the realization of
his failure to aid Hightower as before the heat of a bonfire.
Chapter Two
This before all else: be armed.
MACHIAVELLI
NERVOUS, whispered conversations sprang up among the courtiers. Fania glanced about her in sudden,
imperious anger.
"Where are my stepson's mentors, Eliatim and Faur-buhl?" she demanded.
The majordomo, resplendent in filigreed cloak and bright sash, carrying his staff of office,