"Keith Laumer - Retief !" - читать интересную книгу автора (Laumer Keith)

climactic day. The field, by contrast, was almost empty; two of the Second Day winners had not
reentered for today's events, having apparently decided that they had had enough honor for one
year. They would receive handsome prizes, and respectable titles; that was enough.
The four who had come to the arena today to stake their winning and their lives on their skill
at arms would be worth watching, Retief thought. There was the blond young fellow, still
unmarked; a great swarthy ruffian; a tall broad man of perhaps thirty; and a squat bowlegged
fellow with enormous shoulders and long arms. They were here to win or die.
 From the officials' box Retief and Fitzraven had an excellent view of the arena, where a large
circle had been marked out. The officials seated nearby had given them cold glances as they
entered, but no one had attempted to interfere. Apparently, they had accepted the situation.
Possibly, Retief thought, they had actually studied the Charter. He hoped they had studied it
carefully. It would make things easier.
Announcements boomed, officials moved about, fanfares blasted, while Retief sat absorbed in
thought. The scene reminded him of things he had long forgotten, days long gone, of his youth,
when he had studied the martial skills, serving a long apprenticeship under his world's greatest
masters. It had been his father's conviction that nothing so trained the eye and mind and body as
fencing, judo, savate, and the disciplines of the arts of offense, and defense.
He had abandoned a priceless education when he had left his home to seek his fortune in the
mainstream of galactic culture, but it had stood him in good stead on more than one occasion. An
agent of the Corps could not afford to let himself decline into physical helplessness, and Retief
had maintained his skills as well as possible. He leaned forward now, adjusting his binoculars as
the bugles rang out. Few in the crowd were better qualified than Retief to judge today's
performance. It would be interesting to see how the champions handled themselves on the field.
***
The first event was about to begin, as the blond warrior was paired off with the bowlegged
man. The two had been issued slender foils, and now faced each other, blades crossed. A final
whistle blew, and blade clashed on blade. The squat man was fast on his feet, bounding around in
a semicircle before his taller antagonist, probing his defense with great energy. The blond man
backed away slowly, fending off the rain of blows with slight motions of his foil. He jumped
back suddenly, and Retief saw a red spot grow on his thigh. The apelike fellow was more
dangerous than he had appeared.
Now the blond man launched his attack, beating aside the weapon of the other and striking in
for the throat, only to have his point deflected at the last instant. The short man backed now,
giving ground reluctantly. Suddenly he dropped into a grotesque crouch, and lunged under the
other's defense in a desperate try for a quick kill. It was a mistake; the taller man whirled aside;
and his blade flicked delicately once. The bowlegged man slid out flat on his face.
"What happened?" Fitzraven said, puzzled. "I didn't see the stroke that nailed him."
"It was very pretty," Retief said thoughtfully, lowering the glasses. "Under the fifth rib and
into the heart."
Now the big dark man and the tall broad fellow took their places. The bugles and whistles
sounded, and the two launched a furious exchange, first one and then the other forcing his enemy
back before losing ground in turn. The crowd roared its approval as the two stamped and thrust,
parried and lunged.
"They can't keep up this pace forever," Fitzraven said. "They'll have to slow down."
"They're both good," Retief said. "And evenly matched."
Now the swarthy fellow leaped back, switched the foil to his left hand, then moved quickly in
to the attack. Thrown off his pace, the other man faltered, let the blade nick him on the chest,
again in the arm. Desperate, he backpedaled, fighting defensively now. The dark man followed
up his advantage, pressing savagely, and a moment later Retief saw a foot of bright steel
projecting startlingly from the tall man's back. He took two steps, then folded, as the foil was