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The Wizardwar :: Каннингем Элейн
Страница: 98 из 208Matteo thrust his arm through the opening and closed his hand around the handle of the second, spinning dagger.
A risky move, catching a thrown dagger, but one the two of them had practiced together since boyhood.
Matteo sliced through the net and burst out into the clearing, drawing his sword as he came. He dropped into guard position, prepared to hold off the Crinti's blades as Themo and Iago struggled free.
As he moved, he saw Andris whirl and seize the woman's crossbow. The jordain forced her aim up at the large, unstable rock formation that had hidden the Crinti ambush.
Boulders tumbled down into the clearing, bringing more stones with them. Andris hurtled forward, driving Iago toward a small overhang. The four jordaini flattened themselves into the scant shelter as the thunder and dust of falling rock filled the clearing.
"She was wrong, you know," Matteo shouted at Andris. The pale jordain sent him an inquiring look. "The Crinti chieftain. She said I do not choose my friends well."
A quick look of gratitude flashed in Andris's pale eyes. "Obviously she never met your horse Cyric."
The two jordaini shared a chuckle. When the avalanche ceased but for echoes carrying the grumbling thunder from mountain to mountain, they came cautiously out, swords ready.
Most of the Crinti had gone down under the tumbling stone. Some shifted weakly, others lay bloody and still. Only a few Crinti were left standing-odds the jordaini could reasonably face. The chieftain staggered to her feet, her wild, steel-gray hair crusted with blood.
"Another traitor," she said, eyeing Andris with disdain. She spat at the ground. "You are not worth fighting. She is not worth fighting for. We go."
The surviving Crinti turned and disappeared through the pass, swiftly melting into the hills.
"Shouldn't we give chase?" Themo asked.
Iago sent him a withering look. "Remember the battle cries that sent us scurrying into this hole? This was a small group. Most of them are out there. If they want to leave Halruaa, I say we let them."
He turned to Andris. "You have proved me wrong. See that you keep doing so."
"I’ll do my best," the jordain agreed, "but I should warn you that despite my best intentions, I seem destined to betray those around me."
"A strange sentiment," Matteo protested, "from someone whose quick thinking kept us alive."
"I thank you for that thought, but remember that heritage plays a strange part in destiny."
"Then it's just as well we jordaini seldom know of our ancestry," Iago said curtly.
A risky move, catching a thrown dagger, but one the two of them had practiced together since boyhood.
Matteo sliced through the net and burst out into the clearing, drawing his sword as he came. He dropped into guard position, prepared to hold off the Crinti's blades as Themo and Iago struggled free.
As he moved, he saw Andris whirl and seize the woman's crossbow. The jordain forced her aim up at the large, unstable rock formation that had hidden the Crinti ambush.
Boulders tumbled down into the clearing, bringing more stones with them. Andris hurtled forward, driving Iago toward a small overhang. The four jordaini flattened themselves into the scant shelter as the thunder and dust of falling rock filled the clearing.
"She was wrong, you know," Matteo shouted at Andris. The pale jordain sent him an inquiring look. "The Crinti chieftain. She said I do not choose my friends well."
A quick look of gratitude flashed in Andris's pale eyes. "Obviously she never met your horse Cyric."
The two jordaini shared a chuckle. When the avalanche ceased but for echoes carrying the grumbling thunder from mountain to mountain, they came cautiously out, swords ready.
Most of the Crinti had gone down under the tumbling stone. Some shifted weakly, others lay bloody and still. Only a few Crinti were left standing-odds the jordaini could reasonably face. The chieftain staggered to her feet, her wild, steel-gray hair crusted with blood.
"Another traitor," she said, eyeing Andris with disdain. She spat at the ground. "You are not worth fighting. She is not worth fighting for. We go."
The surviving Crinti turned and disappeared through the pass, swiftly melting into the hills.
"Shouldn't we give chase?" Themo asked.
Iago sent him a withering look. "Remember the battle cries that sent us scurrying into this hole? This was a small group. Most of them are out there. If they want to leave Halruaa, I say we let them."
He turned to Andris. "You have proved me wrong. See that you keep doing so."
"I’ll do my best," the jordain agreed, "but I should warn you that despite my best intentions, I seem destined to betray those around me."
"A strange sentiment," Matteo protested, "from someone whose quick thinking kept us alive."
"I thank you for that thought, but remember that heritage plays a strange part in destiny."
"Then it's just as well we jordaini seldom know of our ancestry," Iago said curtly.