"Will McDermott - Magic the Gathering - Odyssey Cycle 03 - Judgement" - читать интересную книгу автора (McDermott Will)

Kamahl scanned the hall, looking for his sword. "All I need to conquer the mountains is my strength
and my sword. ... If I can find it."
A glint of steel in the comer caught the large barbarian's attention. He walked over, stooped down, and
tossed several cask-sized chunks of rock out of the way to dig out his sword. Kamahl's father had given
him this sword upon his completion of Balthor's Judgment and becoming a man, just as he had gotten it from
his father. The sword had towered over Kamahl at the time. Now the pommel only reached his chest when
he stuck the point into the ground.
Clearing the last of the debris from atop the sword, Kamahl stared at the weapon with a mixture of
wonder and dread. The mighty weapon lie there, gleaming in all its glory, with the Mirari attached to the
pommel.
Kamahl might have stood there all day, staring at what moments ago had been merely a dream,
wondering if his own power or the orb's had caused the fusion, the unmistakable sound of swords being
drawn from scabbards broke his reverie. The brass-skinned man thrust his foot forward and popped the
two-handed sword straight up into the air. Catching the hilt in his right hand, Kamahl whirled around on his
would-be attackers, swinging his sword in a wide arc.
The surprised Order soldier looked at the severed haft of his own blade and then down at the swath
the huge sword had cut across his chest. With blood streaming down his armor, the soldier crumpled to the
ground next to the top half of his own sword.
Kamahl surveyed the now-crowded hallway. He held his sword, glowing red-hot from cross bar to tip,
firmly in both hands and pointed it at the throng of Order soldiers blocking his path.
"I'm in no mood for you today, Order butchers," growled the barbarian.
The eyes of the stunned soldiers in the front ranks darted back and forth between their fallen comrade
and the angry barbarian as they began to back away.
From behind, a voice rang out, "Hold to, men! He has the orb." The lieutenant stepped forward,
pushing his men out of the way to face Kamahl. "You have done a great service to the Order today,
barbarian," he said, smiling. "The Cabal is finished. We owe you a debt of gratitude. Just give us the Mirari,
and you may leave unharmed."
"Take it," spat Kamahl as he thrust his sword toward the lieutenant's smiling face. The lieutenant dived
underneath the stab and rolled to his feet beside Kamahl. The other Order soldiers advanced, moving in as
Kamahl's balance rocked forward after the missed attack.
Kamahl used his momentum to cany him past the first rank of soldiers, then buried his six-foot-long
sword into the chest of a sergeant in the second rank. The barbarian swung back around to face the
soldiers he left behind, the body of the sergeant still impaled on his sword. He flung the limp body into the
advancing soldiers. All three flew back through the rubble-strewn hall into Chainer's chambers, landing with
a dull thud.
Kamahl shifted his attention back to the lieutenant, whose sword and armor now glowed from
protective enchantments.
"We know who you are, Kamahl," said the lieutenant, stepping forward as he spoke, but Kamahl
noticed a quiver in the man's voice. "You are the Butcher!" he continued. "You destroyed the Citadel, killed
Captain Pianna and Lieutenant Kirtar. Now you have destroyed Cabal City, killing the Cabal First and who
knows how many innocent people. While I applaud the death of any Cabal member, you will pay for every
Order death with your head."
Kamahl knew better than to refute the myths that sprouted up around him, especially to an
indoctrinated member of the Order. "I have no quarrel with you, Order man. 1 have what I came for. Let
me leave, or I will add you to the list of the dead." With that, the barbarian turned on his heels and advanced
on the last two Order soldiers barring his path.
"Face me, Butcher!" screamed the lieutenant. Kamahl could hear the soldier running up behind him.
Without even glancing back, Kamahl whipped his sword up over his head, bringing it straight down behind
him in a fast arc. The tip of the sword met the top of the lieutenant's helmet, and Kamahl's biceps bulged as
he drove the sword down through the officer's skull, chest, and abdomen, never once touching the