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and dead. A flurry of bolts from crossbowmen at the far end of the hall drove
the fighting men apart, forcing the attackers to raise their shields to defend
themselves.
A line of armored and shielded men stretched across the room, and at their
rear was a smaller knot of men, more gayly decorated and jeweled, undoubtedly
the noble family of the Trozelligoj themselves. They were on the dining dais,
now swept clear of furniture, and could look over the heads of the men
battling below them. One of them caught sight of Jason when he entered and
pointed towards him with his sword, while talking rapidly with the others.
Then they all turned their attention to him and the group opened up.
Jason saw that they held Ijale, cruelly chained and bound, and that one of
them had his sword pressed to her bosom. They waved his attention to this and
their meaning was obvious enough: do not attack, or she dies. They had no idea
what she meant to him, or if she meant anything at all, but they must have
suspected him of some affection. They were about to be slaughtered, so any
desperate move was worth trying.
Jason's reaction was a roaring rage that sent him hurtling forward.
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ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Logically, he knew that there could be no compromise now; victory was at hand,
and any attempt to reason with the Hertug or the desperate Perssonoj would be
sure to result in Ijale's death. He must reach her!
The Trozelligoj soldiers were knocked aside as he plunged into them from the
rear and flung himself on the guarding line of armored men. An arrow hurtled
by, barely missing him, but unnoticed, and he was upon them. The suddenness of
his attack and his charging weight drove the line back for an instant and his
morning star whistled through a gap between two shields, hitting square on a
helmeted face. He caught a descending sword on his shield and slammed into the
man he had hit, who went down. Once past the soldiers, he did not stay to
battle but pushed on, while the line tried to close to face the enemy who had
rushed to take advantage of Jason's suicidal attack.
There was another member of the group on the dais whom Jason had not noticed
before; he glimpsed him now as he attacked. It was Mikah, the traitor, here!
He stood next to Ijale, who was going to be murdered because Jason could not
possibly reach her in time. The sword was already plunging down to slay her.
Jason had just an instant's sight of Mikah as the latter stepped forward and
clutched the swordsman's shoulders and hurled him backwards to the floor.
Then Jason was attacked from all sides at once and was fighting desperately
for his life.
The odds were too great-five, six to one-all of the attackers armored and
desperate. But he did not have to win, only to hold them off a seconds longer
until his own men arrived. They were just behind him; he could hear their
victorious roar as the line of defenders went down. Jason caught one sword on
his shield, kicked another attacker aside, and beat off a third with his
morning star.
But there were too many. They were all about him. He thrust two aside, then
turned to face the others behind him. There-the old man, the leader of these
people, anger in his eyes . . . a long sword in his hands. . .
thrusting.
"Die, demon! Die, destroyer!" the Trozelligoj screeched and lunged. The long,
cool blade caught Jason just above the belt, thrust into his body with a
searing pain, transfixed him, emerging from his back.
16
It was pain, but it was not unbearable. What was unendurable was the sure
knowledge of death. The old man had killed him. It was all over. Almost
without malice, Jason raised his shield and pushed it against the man, sending
him stumbling backwards. The sword remained, slim shining death through his
body.
"Leave it," Jason said hoarsely to Ijale, who raised her chained hands to pull
it out, her eyes numb with terror.
The battle was over, and through the blurring of pain Jason could see the
Hertug before him, the awareness of death written also on his face.
"Cloths," Jason said, as clearly as he could. "Have them ready to press to the
wounds when the sword is removed."
Strong hands of the soldiers held him up and the cloths were ready. The [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]