"Mary Kirchoff, Douglas Niles. Flint, the King ("Dragonlance Preludes II" #2) (angl)" - читать интересную книгу автора with a jerk on the reins, then clenched his fists at Flint. "I'm
warning you - get out of the way and go back to the vil- lage," the driver hissed. Flint knew he would get no answers from these derro. He forced his voice to remain level. "You've already caused me to burn my bacon with your nonsensical questions, so pass if you must and I'll return to my charred dinner." Flint saw the two armed derro separate as they neared him. Each held his battle-axe at the ready, and Flint looked at the weapons with momentary envy, thinking of his own, trail-worn blade. With growing annoyance, Flint hefted his axe. His body tingled with energy, anticipating battle. Though he did not seek a fight with these mountain dwarves, he would be cursed by Reorx before he'd back down from his hereditary enemies. "Can you prove you're not a spy?" asked one, taunting. Flint stepped to the side, away from the fire. "I could if I thought enough of such wide-eyed derro scum to be both- ered with it," he snapped, his patience gone. The nearest derro flung himself at Flint, his axe whistling through the air. The hill dwarf darted backward in time to also avoid the second derro, who charged in low. The two mountain dwarves' axes met with a sharp clang of steel. A sublime sense of heightened awareness possessed Flint the second derro reeling back with a series of sharp blows. Hacking viciously, he knocked the fellow's weapon to the ground just as the other one leaped back toward him. Whirling away, Flint raised his own axe in a sharp parry. The two blades clashed together, but the hill dwarf stared in dismay as the haft of his axe cracked, carrying the head to the ground. Suddenly Flint was holding only the haft of his battle-axe. He stood there, defenseless, as if naked. The second guard's pale, blue-tinged face split into a gro- tesque grin at Flint's predicament. A sinister light entered his eyes as he raised his axe, ready to crush the hill dwarf's skull. Flint moved with all the quickness his years of battle expe- rience could muster. He thrust the axe handle forward, us- ing it to stab like a sword. The splintered ends of wood struck the derro's nose, and the Theiwar dwarf cried out in agony, blinking away blood. Flint struck again, smashing the wooden stick over the derro's knuckles, which gripped his axe. Crying out again, the guard dropped his weapon, stumbling blindly from his bloody nose and eyes. Flint quickly snatched the axe up and swung menacingly at the suddenly retreating derro. He turned on the one who was sprawled on the ground, urging him along as well. |
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