"David Gemmell - Druss 01 - Druss the Legend" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gemmel David)

thundered a right cross which took the attacker full on the jaw, spinning him
from his feet. Druss leapt on the man, one huge hand grabbing his chin, the
other his brow. With one savage twist Druss heard the swordsman's neck snap
like a dry stick.
Moving swiftly to the first man he had killed, Druss
tore the felling axe clear of the breastplate as Tailia ran from her hiding-
place in the bushes. 'They are attacking the village,' she said, tears in her
eyes.
Pilan came running into the clearing, a lancer behind
him. 'Swerve!' bellowed Druss. But Pilan was too terrified to obey and he ran
straight on - until the lance pierced his back, exiting in a bloody spray from
his chest. The youth cried out, then slumped to the ground. Druss roared in
anger and raced forward. The lancer desperately tried to wrench his weapon
clear of the dying boy. Druss swung wildly with the axe, which glanced from
the rider's shoulder and plunged into the horse's back. The animal whinnied in
pain and reared before falling to the earth, its legs flailing. The rider
scrambled clear, blood gushing from his shoulder and tried to run, but Druss's
next blow almost decapitated him.
Hearing a scream, Druss began to run towards the sound
and found Yorath struggling with one raider; the second was kneeling on the
ground, blood streaming from a wound in his head. The body of Berys was beside
him, a blood-smeared stone in her hand. The swordsman grappling with Yorath
suddenly head-butted the youth, sending Yorath back several paces. The sword
came up. Druss shouted, trying to distract the warrior. But to no avail. The
weapon lanced into Yorath's side. The swordsman dragged the blade clear and
turned towards Druss. 'Now your time to die, farm boy!' he said. 'In your
dreams!' snarled the woodsman. Swinging the axe over his head, Druss charged.
The swordsman side-stepped to his right - but Druss had been waiting for the
move, and with all the power of his mighty shoulders he wrenched the axe,
changing its course. It clove through the man's collarbone, smashing the
shoulder-blade and ripping into his lungs. Tearing the axe loose, Druss turned
from the body to see the first wounded warrior struggling to rise; jumping
forward, he struck him a murderous blow to the neck. 'Help me!' called Yorath.
'I'll send Tailia,' Druss told him, and began to run
back through the trees.
Reaching the crest of the hill he gazed down on the
village. He could see scattered bodies, but no sign of raiders. For a moment
he thought the villagers had beaten them back . . . but there was no movement
at all.
'Rowena!' he yelled. 'Rowena!'
 *
Druss ran down the slope. He fell and rolled, losing
his grip on the felling-axe, but scrambling to his feet he pounded on - down
into the meadow, across the flat, through the half-finished gates. Bodies lay
everywhere. Rowena's father, the former book-keeper Voren, had been stabbed
through the throat, and blood was staining the earth beneath him. Breathing
hard, Druss stopped, and stared around the settlement square.
Old women, young children and all the men were dead.
As he stumbled on he saw the golden-haired child, Kins, beloved of all the
villagers, lying sprawled in death alongside her rag doll. The body of an