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The Floodgate :: Каннингем Элейн
Страница: 192 из 212He watched as two metal gnolls-hideous beastmen with heads resembling desert dingoes-clattered down the street, tossing a shrieking child between them like a toy. Dhamari's guards took off in pursuit, leaving his tower unprotected.
No matter. The wizard watched them go, fondling a small coin that would transport him to Tzigone's side as soon as the deadly spell was cast and the dark fairies summoned.
And call them she would. Kiva had made certain of that, whether she knew it or not.
* * * * *
Procopio had witnessed such battles a hundred times, played out in miniature. Why then, was he so unprepared for the slaughter?
As Kiva had forewarned, small bands of Crinti had taken position on the mountains, choosing perches higher than the skyships could climb. They were too firmly entrenched to give the airborne wizards a clear target or even a sense of their numbers, which, as Matteo had suggested, were greater than Kiva had admitted. In a broad valley below, a band of mercenaries under the command of the jordain Iago fought in bloody melee against the gray warriors.
Most of the skyships dipped low into the valley. The fighting was too close for wizardly spells to be effective, so the warriors on board slid down ropes to join in the battle. Some of the more daring Crinti climbed the ropes to take the fight onto the ships.
Procopio had sent small bands up into the mountains to flush out the other Crinti, most of them to positions he had "divined." Among these men was Matteo. Procopio had intended to keep the jordain at his side, but Matteo left, sliding down a rope and dropping several feet to the ground. He stopped long enough to check the bag strapped to his back, then took off at a run. With a disgusted sniff, Procopio left the jordain to his fate and turned his attention to the battle at hand.
He gave the order to his helmsman to take the skyship higher, above the stench of death and the cries of dying men. After all, he was accustomed to watching such battles from above.
Matteo sprinted up a mountain path, running along a stream that seemed too swift and strong for this terrain, this season. From the skyship, he noted that its origin was a spring in the middle of a small clearing, very like the stream in the Swamp of Akhlaur that had sustained the laraken for two centuries. Several Crinti warriors guarded this spring, firming Matteo's suspicions.
Surely this was where Kiva had moved the floodgate.
He ran toward the deadly site, not entirely certain what he would do when he got there or what he might meet. His only thought was that the gate must be closed.
No matter. The wizard watched them go, fondling a small coin that would transport him to Tzigone's side as soon as the deadly spell was cast and the dark fairies summoned.
And call them she would. Kiva had made certain of that, whether she knew it or not.
* * * * *
Procopio had witnessed such battles a hundred times, played out in miniature. Why then, was he so unprepared for the slaughter?
As Kiva had forewarned, small bands of Crinti had taken position on the mountains, choosing perches higher than the skyships could climb. They were too firmly entrenched to give the airborne wizards a clear target or even a sense of their numbers, which, as Matteo had suggested, were greater than Kiva had admitted. In a broad valley below, a band of mercenaries under the command of the jordain Iago fought in bloody melee against the gray warriors.
Most of the skyships dipped low into the valley. The fighting was too close for wizardly spells to be effective, so the warriors on board slid down ropes to join in the battle. Some of the more daring Crinti climbed the ropes to take the fight onto the ships.
Procopio had sent small bands up into the mountains to flush out the other Crinti, most of them to positions he had "divined." Among these men was Matteo. Procopio had intended to keep the jordain at his side, but Matteo left, sliding down a rope and dropping several feet to the ground. He stopped long enough to check the bag strapped to his back, then took off at a run. With a disgusted sniff, Procopio left the jordain to his fate and turned his attention to the battle at hand.
He gave the order to his helmsman to take the skyship higher, above the stench of death and the cries of dying men. After all, he was accustomed to watching such battles from above.
Matteo sprinted up a mountain path, running along a stream that seemed too swift and strong for this terrain, this season. From the skyship, he noted that its origin was a spring in the middle of a small clearing, very like the stream in the Swamp of Akhlaur that had sustained the laraken for two centuries. Several Crinti warriors guarded this spring, firming Matteo's suspicions.
Surely this was where Kiva had moved the floodgate.
He ran toward the deadly site, not entirely certain what he would do when he got there or what he might meet. His only thought was that the gate must be closed.