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The Floodgate :: Каннингем Элейн
Страница: 207 из 212Command the firebird to drop the elemental on the Mulhorandi cavalry."
The king shot a quick, astonished look at Matteo, then nodded. "Tell me when." He began the spell and held it until the jordain gave the signal.
Powerful magic, once unleashed, was not easily recalled. The fiery roc let out a ringing squawk of protest, but it changed the direction of its flight and winged back, captive to the call of Halruaa's wizard-king. The roc dropped the elemental and dissipated into the sky like festival fireworks.
The elemental tumbled end over end, looking from this distance like a man falling out of a skyship. Though the elemental had much diminished in size, it was still nearly the length of a full-grown dragon.
The liquid monster hit and shattered like a broken water skin. Men and horses went down screaming under the impact, and water mingled with blood flowed over the barren plain. The hoofs of panicked equines quickly churned the ground to mud.
Matteo was sickened by the death that had come at his bidding, but he gave his report. "The elemental appears to have taken out nearly a third of the cavalry."
"Send in the foot soldiers," the king commanded. The order was relayed, and the sound of horns winded across the plain. Halruaan troops raced in on both sides, pinning the larger numbers down. Some of the mounted Mulhorandi tried to flee, but their horses floundered in the mud.
Even so, men on foot were at a great disadvantage over mounted fighters. After the first wild rush, the battle began to turn once again to the invaders.
"What is your counsel, jordain?" demanded Zalathorm.
Matteo grimaced. "You are not going to like it."
"I haven't liked any of this," the king retorted, "but if you say it's for the good of Halruaa, I'll believe you. And may Mystra save us all."
Akhlaur applauded, his long, webbed hands rasping together. "Excellently done! I wouldn't have credited Zalathorm with that particular spell. His forces on the ground are not faring so well, though."
"He will lose," Kiva said with satisfaction.
"Not yet, and not here."
A clatter filled the air. Thousands of skeletons created by the necromancer's first attack rose from the ground. An army of skeletons clattered toward their former comrades, inexorable as a plague of locusts. They swept over the struggling cavalry, dragged the Mulhorandi down from their horses, tearing man and beast apart.
"No spell should have but a single purpose," Akhlaur said. "Water from the living, warriors from thе dead.
The king shot a quick, astonished look at Matteo, then nodded. "Tell me when." He began the spell and held it until the jordain gave the signal.
Powerful magic, once unleashed, was not easily recalled. The fiery roc let out a ringing squawk of protest, but it changed the direction of its flight and winged back, captive to the call of Halruaa's wizard-king. The roc dropped the elemental and dissipated into the sky like festival fireworks.
The elemental tumbled end over end, looking from this distance like a man falling out of a skyship. Though the elemental had much diminished in size, it was still nearly the length of a full-grown dragon.
The liquid monster hit and shattered like a broken water skin. Men and horses went down screaming under the impact, and water mingled with blood flowed over the barren plain. The hoofs of panicked equines quickly churned the ground to mud.
Matteo was sickened by the death that had come at his bidding, but he gave his report. "The elemental appears to have taken out nearly a third of the cavalry."
"Send in the foot soldiers," the king commanded. The order was relayed, and the sound of horns winded across the plain. Halruaan troops raced in on both sides, pinning the larger numbers down. Some of the mounted Mulhorandi tried to flee, but their horses floundered in the mud.
Even so, men on foot were at a great disadvantage over mounted fighters. After the first wild rush, the battle began to turn once again to the invaders.
"What is your counsel, jordain?" demanded Zalathorm.
Matteo grimaced. "You are not going to like it."
"I haven't liked any of this," the king retorted, "but if you say it's for the good of Halruaa, I'll believe you. And may Mystra save us all."
Akhlaur applauded, his long, webbed hands rasping together. "Excellently done! I wouldn't have credited Zalathorm with that particular spell. His forces on the ground are not faring so well, though."
"He will lose," Kiva said with satisfaction.
"Not yet, and not here."
A clatter filled the air. Thousands of skeletons created by the necromancer's first attack rose from the ground. An army of skeletons clattered toward their former comrades, inexorable as a plague of locusts. They swept over the struggling cavalry, dragged the Mulhorandi down from their horses, tearing man and beast apart.
"No spell should have but a single purpose," Akhlaur said. "Water from the living, warriors from thе dead.