"02 - Nemesis - Paul B Thompson 1.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lebaron Francis)

the dead girl. She saw the shadowy agent, his face paint
adjusted to the gray night.
She screamed, "Kidnap, kidnap! My brother's child is
taken!"
She offered no resistance as he rushed by on his way to
the bridge. He pounded up carved steps three and four at a
time. On either side he could see the glow of lamps
gathering. He ran to a swinging bridge of planks and vines.
Behind him, someone shouted for help.
Elves, some armed, gathered at both ends of the bridge.
One pointed at him and cried out. The agent spared them a
glance and began to run in earnest.
Nothing matters but the completion of your mission. Not
your life, nor the life of any who oppose you.
A spear-wielding elf appeared at the near end of the
bridge. The agent dropped his prize and sprang at his new
foe. Before the elf could raise his weapon, the wraithlike
agent was on him, bearing him down to the plank floor of the
bridge. They grappled, and the agent used his steelclad head
to bludgeon his enemy into submission. Blood streamed down
the agent's face, mixing with the mimetic ointment. He
rolled the dead elf's body off the bridge and let it splash
in the dark waters below. He picked up the fallen warrior's
spear.
More torch-bearing elves filled the landings at both
ends of the bridge. They were carrying whatever weapons came
to hand-snake-fang maces, flails, tree-limb knobkerries-but
luckily no bows. He slung the blanket-wrapped body over his
shoulder. Elves filed onto the bridge.
"There he is!"
"What is it? A demon?"
"No demon-see, it bleeds!"
That brought forth calls for more of the agent's blood.
He calmly positioned himself on the bridge and raised his
captured spear. A thrown mace hurtled past him. He faced his
nearest pursuers and bared his teeth in a snarl. Torchlight
gleamed off his steel fangs. A refinement, his masters
called it, pulling his natural teeth and giving him these
metal spikes. Now the angry elves hesitated, transfixed by
the weird apparition between them.
The spear was useless, so he flung it at his pursuers.
He grabbed one of the bridge's supporting vines and clamped
down on it with his metal teeth. The cable parted with a
crack. The left side of the bridge sagged. Elves began to
scramble back to the platforms. The agent turned and just as
efficiently bit through another cable.
The broken bridge fell. He'd judged his place perfectly.
His portion of the bridge was just long enough to drag the
surface of the water and stop before slamming into a tree
trunk.