[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
will free our comrades above and then silence!
Of course, they could not keep silent Once the traumatic bludgeon of release had shocked them, once
they suddenly realized that they need not be slaves again, there was no holding them.
Whip-marked naked bodies began to spill out into the central gangway with its slits of sky above and the
long rows of naked legs of the oarsmen of the upper two banks. A whip-deldar looked over his narrow
split-deck and yelled. I hurled the knife as I had hurled the woman s weapon of my Clansmen, the
terchick, and he toppled over spouting blood from his mouth. I put my foot on his body and drew the
knife from his throat. I rather cared for that economical use of a weapon.
The slaves were clambering up the supporting timbers of the upper banks, hauling themselves up over
the inboard ends of the oar looms where they rested in the level position within the patterned
rowing-frames. They were screeching and yelling and waving their chains. I knew few of them would
think to release their comrades; their minds were now shocked into one desire only to kill the
overlords of Magdag. Mind you that was a desire I then considered eminently worthy Zair forgive
me.
Like some grundal of the rocks I went up hand over hand, the bloody knife between my teeth. That, I
admit, is one time when I grin.
The twisted and pulped body of a whip-deldar crunched underfoot as I leaped for the locks of the
zygites great chain. The knife point probed, there was a click clearly audible above the uproar, and then
the zygites, prepared by the astonishing appearance of their fellows from below, were roaring and raging
with chains in their fists.
A few arrows fleeted down and a slave shrieked and toppled back with a shaft through him. The crew
had reacted swiftly.
I had not expected otherwise.
Only the overwhelming manpower of the slaves could win the swifter for us.
It is difficult to conceive of the uproar and violence of those moments. In an exceedingly long and narrow
space, a mere slot walled in by timbers and chains, naked hairy men howled and struggled to reach the
light. Up we went and with us went Seg Segutorio, brandishing a whip with which he took the ankles
from under a whip-deldar and so brought him screeching down into the merciless talons of the slaves.
On the upper deck with its central gangway and gratings to either side over the lower banks the slaves
were raging like a sea breaking against cliffs. The task of reaching the locks of the thranites great chain
would be difficult. Already soldiers of Magdag in their iron-linked hauberks were running back from the
bows. Arrows were flickering through the air. I took off in a long run toward the oar-master and his
tabernacle. The drum-deldar let out a single long scream and went scuttling aft. Up there the officer I had
seen drew his long sword.
I wanted that sword.
Still the locks must come first. Then Seg was with me. His whip flicked the oar-master into a
gibbering panic. I bent to the first lock and an arrow feathered into the deck at my side. The officer ran
toward us, leaned over, shouting. His face, browned by wind and sun, looked in the last stages of
apoplectic fury.
I clicked the lock, stood up, let fly the knife.
The officer gurgled, slumped, toppled down.
I caught the long sword as it spun through the air, taking its bone grip which I dislike leanly into
my fist. It would have been a fine catch at first slip.
Forward! shouted Seg. The rasts are waiting for us!
Indeed, the battle to take the broad ship was over. Now the swifters crew and soldiers were turning
about to face the frenzied slaves. We had begun with the lowest bank so as to avoid detection. Now that
all the slaves were free nothing stopped us from hurling ourselves into the fight.
Grab a sword first, Seg! I yelled.
Had I my bow he yelled back.
I sprinted forward along the gangway, hurdling various bodies, until I could thrust through the back of
the press. Hundreds of slaves were crowding forward, waving their chains, humming them about their
heads in deadly arcs. But many were going down as the swifter archers shot with flat trajectories, rapidly
and professionally.
The struggle for me to reach the front ranks was severe; but in a few moments I pushed aside the body
of a slave who, swinging his chains, had been thrust through the belly, by a long sword. I stepped out, the
long sword held in the fighting grip of the Krozairs of Zy.
Blades crossed. An arrow brushed through my hair. I kept on the move. The long sword was a fine
weapon despite its bone grip and I felt it slog crushingly into the rib cage of the first Magdaggian, biting
through the mesh. He fell away. There was another, whose face above the ventail I smashed in. More
arrows were fleeting past then I realized some were going the other way. An overlord before me
abruptly threw his hands in the air, dropping his sword. An arrow stood out from his right eye.
Seg Segutorio had found himself a weapon he knew how to use and was in action.
Now the sheer mass of slaves told. Perhaps there were as many as three hundred men of Magdag
aboard: overlords, overlords of the second class, soldiers, and crew. Of them all the captain of the
swifter seemed alone to be alive as I reached the entrance ramp onto the lower beak. The scene was
fantastic. The whole upperworks of the swifter were crowded with the naked bodies of slaves, all [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl ocenkijessi.opx.pl
will free our comrades above and then silence!
Of course, they could not keep silent Once the traumatic bludgeon of release had shocked them, once
they suddenly realized that they need not be slaves again, there was no holding them.
Whip-marked naked bodies began to spill out into the central gangway with its slits of sky above and the
long rows of naked legs of the oarsmen of the upper two banks. A whip-deldar looked over his narrow
split-deck and yelled. I hurled the knife as I had hurled the woman s weapon of my Clansmen, the
terchick, and he toppled over spouting blood from his mouth. I put my foot on his body and drew the
knife from his throat. I rather cared for that economical use of a weapon.
The slaves were clambering up the supporting timbers of the upper banks, hauling themselves up over
the inboard ends of the oar looms where they rested in the level position within the patterned
rowing-frames. They were screeching and yelling and waving their chains. I knew few of them would
think to release their comrades; their minds were now shocked into one desire only to kill the
overlords of Magdag. Mind you that was a desire I then considered eminently worthy Zair forgive
me.
Like some grundal of the rocks I went up hand over hand, the bloody knife between my teeth. That, I
admit, is one time when I grin.
The twisted and pulped body of a whip-deldar crunched underfoot as I leaped for the locks of the
zygites great chain. The knife point probed, there was a click clearly audible above the uproar, and then
the zygites, prepared by the astonishing appearance of their fellows from below, were roaring and raging
with chains in their fists.
A few arrows fleeted down and a slave shrieked and toppled back with a shaft through him. The crew
had reacted swiftly.
I had not expected otherwise.
Only the overwhelming manpower of the slaves could win the swifter for us.
It is difficult to conceive of the uproar and violence of those moments. In an exceedingly long and narrow
space, a mere slot walled in by timbers and chains, naked hairy men howled and struggled to reach the
light. Up we went and with us went Seg Segutorio, brandishing a whip with which he took the ankles
from under a whip-deldar and so brought him screeching down into the merciless talons of the slaves.
On the upper deck with its central gangway and gratings to either side over the lower banks the slaves
were raging like a sea breaking against cliffs. The task of reaching the locks of the thranites great chain
would be difficult. Already soldiers of Magdag in their iron-linked hauberks were running back from the
bows. Arrows were flickering through the air. I took off in a long run toward the oar-master and his
tabernacle. The drum-deldar let out a single long scream and went scuttling aft. Up there the officer I had
seen drew his long sword.
I wanted that sword.
Still the locks must come first. Then Seg was with me. His whip flicked the oar-master into a
gibbering panic. I bent to the first lock and an arrow feathered into the deck at my side. The officer ran
toward us, leaned over, shouting. His face, browned by wind and sun, looked in the last stages of
apoplectic fury.
I clicked the lock, stood up, let fly the knife.
The officer gurgled, slumped, toppled down.
I caught the long sword as it spun through the air, taking its bone grip which I dislike leanly into
my fist. It would have been a fine catch at first slip.
Forward! shouted Seg. The rasts are waiting for us!
Indeed, the battle to take the broad ship was over. Now the swifters crew and soldiers were turning
about to face the frenzied slaves. We had begun with the lowest bank so as to avoid detection. Now that
all the slaves were free nothing stopped us from hurling ourselves into the fight.
Grab a sword first, Seg! I yelled.
Had I my bow he yelled back.
I sprinted forward along the gangway, hurdling various bodies, until I could thrust through the back of
the press. Hundreds of slaves were crowding forward, waving their chains, humming them about their
heads in deadly arcs. But many were going down as the swifter archers shot with flat trajectories, rapidly
and professionally.
The struggle for me to reach the front ranks was severe; but in a few moments I pushed aside the body
of a slave who, swinging his chains, had been thrust through the belly, by a long sword. I stepped out, the
long sword held in the fighting grip of the Krozairs of Zy.
Blades crossed. An arrow brushed through my hair. I kept on the move. The long sword was a fine
weapon despite its bone grip and I felt it slog crushingly into the rib cage of the first Magdaggian, biting
through the mesh. He fell away. There was another, whose face above the ventail I smashed in. More
arrows were fleeting past then I realized some were going the other way. An overlord before me
abruptly threw his hands in the air, dropping his sword. An arrow stood out from his right eye.
Seg Segutorio had found himself a weapon he knew how to use and was in action.
Now the sheer mass of slaves told. Perhaps there were as many as three hundred men of Magdag
aboard: overlords, overlords of the second class, soldiers, and crew. Of them all the captain of the
swifter seemed alone to be alive as I reached the entrance ramp onto the lower beak. The scene was
fantastic. The whole upperworks of the swifter were crowded with the naked bodies of slaves, all [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]