"McCay, Bill - Stargate Rebellion" - читать интересную книгу автора (McCay Bill)

displaying herself beneath the wisp of linen she wore. Sebek's
breathing was already heavy as he beckoned her forward. Hathor could
feel his body heat as she came to a stop inches from the seated man.
Sebek's hands darted out with the eagerness of a two-year-old unwrapping
a present. One fist wrapped itself in the exiguous linen of her shift
and yanked downward. As her only covering tore and pooled at her feet,
Sebek's left hand curved around her hip to grasp a buttock and drag her
forward those last few inches. His breath was hot on her belly as he
crushed her to him. Even as Sebek pulled her forward, Hathor's hands
were in motion. Her right hand lashed down at the arm holding her while
her left slashed upward against Sebek's face. The razor-sharp glass
bangles did their work. The viceroy's gashed arm slacked its grip,
allowing Hathor to slip free. Her other attack opened Sebek's left
cheek from the jawline almost to his eye. For a long count he sat frozen
on the divan, staring at the blood. Then his face contorted with rage.
"Bitch!" he muttered, starting to rise. Hathor's kick caught Sebek in
the midsection, driving the air from his body. Long ago, when she had
decided to compete in the ranks of the warriors, she sought out the best
trainers available. And she had paid them well, in gold or in the coin
of love. Her experts explained that Hathor could never develop the
strength of arms and shoulders to match a male warrior. Her legs,
however, were stronger than any man's arms-not to mention having longer
reach. And the delicate looking sandals she wore boasted a heavy metal
plate in the built-up sole. Sebek's glare seemed to ask, who is this
devil woman, as he wheezed, trying to get some air into his lungs. A
difficult feat, given his bruised stomach muscles, Hathor knew. She
could read his dilemma clearly. One call, and the room would be full of
warriors. But what effect would it have on his faction if he needed
warriors to protect him from a lone, naked woman? Hathor feinted a low
kick with her left foot. When Sebek committed himself to trying to grab
her ankle, she shifted to a roundhouse kick Coming from the right. The
weighted sole caught Sebek in the temple, toppling him to crash
halfconscious on the stone floor. He lay there for a moment, unmoving.
Then he tried to prop himself up on hands and knees. A kick to his left
elbow nearly wrecked that joint, collapsing Sebek on his side. Hathor
followed up with a kick to his kidneys, then hooked a toe under Sebek's
ribs, turning him over to expose his more vulnerable underbelly. The
crocodile god tried to huddle into himself and protect his already
bruised stomach, only to have one of Hathor's heavy soles come crushing
down on his testicles. In a moan of agony, his breath went whooshing
out again. Sebek tried to turn turtle, but Hathor kicked him out flat on
his back again. At this point Sebek wanted to scream for help, but
didn't have enough air in his lungs to do it. Hathor didn't help the
situation. With a cold smile she moved her right foot toward Sebek's
throat. The only response the helpless, gasping man could make was to
scrunch his jaw down, trying to protect the soft tissue now at risk. One
more kick from the warrior woman twisted Sebek's head back while tearing
the wound on his cheek even wider. Blood gushed down onto the crocodile
god's throat as Hathor's foot descended relentlessly. A strangled croak
whispered out of his mouth. "Who-" That was all he could manage.