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Faith of the Fallen :: Goodkind Terry
Страница: 597 из 617He wished he could use those feelings to get her to see reason, to helphim, to cast off her chains, but he didn't know how.
Richard stepped back into the blackness of a room as he heard guards running his way. As they turned into the hallway, Richard again drew his sword. When they were close, he burst out of the doorway and took off the first guard's head. The second swung his sword, missed, and lifted it for another strike. Richard ran his sword through the man's belly. The wounded guard pulled back, off the blade. Before Richard could finish him, more men burst into the hall. The man with the gut wound wasn't going to be a problem anymore; it would take him hours of agony to die.
Richard retreated through the dark doorway, tempting men in after him.
He stood still in the dark, and as they rushed in, panting, crunching debris beneath the balls of their feet as they turned, Richard located them by sound alone and cut them down. Half a dozen men died in the pitch black room before the rest ran.
Richard raced onward toward the sounds of explosions. Every time gouts of flame flashed through the morass of hallways, he hid his eyes with a hand in order to preserve his night vision. When the blinding flashes ceased, he quickly continued in the direction from which they had come.
There were mile upon mile of halls in the palace. Some opened out into grounds where nothing had yet been built. Others went along between walls open overhead. Still others tunneled through the darkness, enclosed by upper floors or roofs. Richard descended stairs into blackness, into the palace underground, following the roar of conjured flames.
Down below the main floor were networks of interconnected rooms, made up of a confusing snarl of chambers and narrow halls. As he plunged through a labyrinth of shadowy rooms, going through holes in unfinished walls and empty doorways, he came suddenly upon a cloaked man with a sword. He knew none of the people were armed.
The man spun around, his sword leading, but since Richard was disguised in robes, he knew the man might not be a true foe.
In a flash of moonlight, Richard was stunned to see the Sword of Truth over the shoulder of the person. It was Kahlan.
He froze in shock.
She saw only a figure in brown robes-a brother-standing in a shaft of moonlight. The hood shadowed his face.
In the same instant, before he could call her name, he saw, over Kahlan's shoulder, someone running their way. Nicci.
In one terrible blinding instant, Richard knew what he had to do. It was his only chance-Kahlan's only chance-to be free.
Richard stepped back into the blackness of a room as he heard guards running his way. As they turned into the hallway, Richard again drew his sword. When they were close, he burst out of the doorway and took off the first guard's head. The second swung his sword, missed, and lifted it for another strike. Richard ran his sword through the man's belly. The wounded guard pulled back, off the blade. Before Richard could finish him, more men burst into the hall. The man with the gut wound wasn't going to be a problem anymore; it would take him hours of agony to die.
Richard retreated through the dark doorway, tempting men in after him.
He stood still in the dark, and as they rushed in, panting, crunching debris beneath the balls of their feet as they turned, Richard located them by sound alone and cut them down. Half a dozen men died in the pitch black room before the rest ran.
Richard raced onward toward the sounds of explosions. Every time gouts of flame flashed through the morass of hallways, he hid his eyes with a hand in order to preserve his night vision. When the blinding flashes ceased, he quickly continued in the direction from which they had come.
There were mile upon mile of halls in the palace. Some opened out into grounds where nothing had yet been built. Others went along between walls open overhead. Still others tunneled through the darkness, enclosed by upper floors or roofs. Richard descended stairs into blackness, into the palace underground, following the roar of conjured flames.
Down below the main floor were networks of interconnected rooms, made up of a confusing snarl of chambers and narrow halls. As he plunged through a labyrinth of shadowy rooms, going through holes in unfinished walls and empty doorways, he came suddenly upon a cloaked man with a sword. He knew none of the people were armed.
The man spun around, his sword leading, but since Richard was disguised in robes, he knew the man might not be a true foe.
In a flash of moonlight, Richard was stunned to see the Sword of Truth over the shoulder of the person. It was Kahlan.
He froze in shock.
She saw only a figure in brown robes-a brother-standing in a shaft of moonlight. The hood shadowed his face.
In the same instant, before he could call her name, he saw, over Kahlan's shoulder, someone running their way. Nicci.
In one terrible blinding instant, Richard knew what he had to do. It was his only chance-Kahlan's only chance-to be free.