"Alan Dean Foster - Kingdoms of Light" - читать интересную книгу автора (Foster Alan Dean)

reveled in it.
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On the bridges, within the city proper and the castle on the heights above, the defenders saw, and heard,
and were appalled. The hellish vision of the enemy camps was enough to induce some to desert on the
spot, fleeing under cover of night, carried away by fear. Most, however, remained, their number
continuously reinforced by a steady stream of resolute new arrivals. Anyone with any sense knew that
here was the place to stop the invaders, before they could reach the prosperous, broad plains of the
Gowdlands. Keep them on the far side of the Drimaud, and everything and everyone to the east would
be safe. Let them cross, and chaos would surely triumph. To give way now was to embark upon a life of
eternal, hopeless flight from an unspeakable nightmare that would never end.

All they had to do, Goughfree and his fellow officers knew, was hold the bridges. While the aspect of
the Horde was certainly terrible, the invaders had so far exhibited nothing capable of instilling despair in
the heart of a well-trained soldier. The enemy did not even appear to have artillery, giving a distinct
advantage to the well-prepared defenders. Let them come!

On the morning of Twelfth Day, beneath a glowering sky and in defiance of a sultry, obscuring rain, that
is what they did.

Goughfree had established a forward command post atop the Hidradny Tower, which defended the
largest and most prominent of the bridges that spanned the Drimaud. At the midpoint of the structure, a
succession of battlements had been erected, one behind the other. The same defensive bulwarks had
been put in place on all of the eleven other bridges. The idea was to funnel the mass of the enemy onto
one or more of the resulting narrow concourses rather than meet them on an open field. This would
prevent them from bringing superior numbers to bear. Should they succeed in surmounting or battering
their way through a fortification, the defenders would retreat to the next one immediately behind. In this
way, the attacking enemy force would be gradually reduced at each wall, while the defenders would
grow progressively stronger thanks to reinforcements waiting to be brought up from behind.

When the moment was right, Goughfree or any of the generals commanding the other bridges could
draw upon well-rested reserves for a devastating counterattack to drive the attackers hack across the
river. The defenders would not attempt to follow, but would instead try to reduce the enemy as severely
as circumstance allowed before returning to the defense of the bridges. In the event the Horde succeeded
in fighting its way across the entire length of a bridge, tall entrance gates and heavily defended city walls
awaited them.

It was a good plan, a sound plan, uncomplicated and easy to implement. Goughfree, Chaupunell,
Zisgymond and the other senior officers had a great deal of confidence in it. With luck, it would result in
the elimination of the Totumakk Horde as an effective fighting force or threat to the Gowdlands for all
time.

When battle was finally joined, standing atop the Hidradny Tower and squinting through the rain,
Goughfree could see that all was going as planned. Shattering the air with a frightful ululation interspersed
with individual war cries, many of which did not arise from human throats, the Horde proceeded to
assault all four main bridges simultaneously. If in so doing they hoped to discover a weak point, they
failed miserably. Only on the Salmisti Bridge were the defenders overwhelmed by the fury of the attack