"Flint, Kenneth C - Gods of Eire 03 - Master of the Sidhe UC" - читать интересную книгу автора (Flint Kenneth C)

Seeing their fellows closing in from the other side, the Serpent's Head Clan now began to move forward too. They would crush the little band between two walls of iron like a

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vise.

"Back to back," the Dagda said.

They paired offЧShaglan and Gilla, the Dagda and

Morrigan, Lugh and AineЧeach two facing the enemies on a different side

"Well, that's it then," Lugh said with a warrior's stoic acceptance of death. "They've trapped us fairly this time. But we'll make a fine fight of it." He drew himself up in a good, heroic pose and set his young face in the grimmest lines he could. His voice was touched with regret as he went on. "I'm only sorry about us, Aine. I'd always hoped we'd have some time together after this was over. Some time when the two of us could have ..."

"Oh, please, will you just be still?" she told him in a rather brusque way.

Startled by this harsh response, he looked around at her. She was standing in a strange, stiff attitude, head back, eyes closed.

"What are you doing?" he asked in bewilderment. "We are going to be attacked any moment, you know."

"Of course I know," she said tersely. "I'm calling some help for us. Now, let me concentrate!"

He had forgotten the power that Aine possessed. She could call to her and command nearly any beast with it. But what kind of animal could she call to help them there?

His answer came from the streets and buildings all around them. The sound was first: sharp, high-pitched squeals rising and joining into one piercing sound. Then they came into view, drawn from the filthy, choked alleys and the piles of trash by their mistress's call. They poured into the avenue from everywhere, forming a living carpet that rippled across the ground, an uncountable horde of huge, sleek, sinewy rats.

"Move close to me," Aine told her friends.

They don't need much urging to crowd in as the rats surged around them.

The attacking Fomor were caught by the flood before they could understand what was happening. Like sea waves, the torrent of rodents crashed upon them, over them. The small animals overwhelmed their hulking victims by sheer numbers and the savageness of their onslaught. They bore the warriors down, covering them with the rippling sea of their bodies.

Fomor thrashed and heaved desperately beneath, screaming in agony as hundreds of jaws tore at them. At one point a hand was thrust up from the squirming mass, fingers in tatters or chewed away, rats hanging by their teeth from the

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flesh of the arm, pulling it back down out of sight. Nearby ;i head appeared above the surface for a horrible instant, torn, eyeless, mouth round in a last cry.

Those Fomor who managed to get free of the rats fled in terror. The Serpent's Head Clan fought on most doggedly, but even their survivors finally quite the massacre. Suddenly, there was no opposition left in the avenue.

"I think we should go now," Aine told her companions, who watched the incredible scene with fascination and revulsion.