wilbursmith_warlock-第103章

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he　tall　figure　that　appeared　suddenly　high　on　their　flank。　But　all　Nefer's　men　could　see　him　clearly。　They　were　hidden　among　the　boulders　down　both　slopes　of　the　valley。　Nefer　raised　his　sword　above　his　head；　and　as　the　last　chariot　sped　past　he　brought　it　down　sharply。
　　
　　The　wagons　were　poised　on　the　steep　gradient；　with　their　wheels　chocked　and　lashed　to　hold　them。　They　were　screened　from　view　with　dried　grass　the　exact　colour　of　their　surroundings；　and　they　were　so　heavily　laden　with　rocks　that　the　axles　sagged。　At　Nefer's　signal　his　wagoners　pulled　out　the　wooden　chocks　and　slashed　away　the　lashings　that　held　the　wheels。　From　both　sides　of　the　valley　the　wagons　rolled　forward；　gathering　speed；　bounding　down　on　top　of　the　massed　chariots　below。
　　
　　When　Ishtar　screamed　at　his　side；　Trok　tore　his　eyes　from　the　Mintaka's　figure　at　the　far　end　of　the　valley；　and　he　saw　the　huge　vehicles　tearing　down　upon　his　squadrons。　'Back！'　he　shouted。　'Break　away！'　But　even　his　bull　voice　was　lost　in　the　uproar。　The　charge　once　launched　could　not　be　stopped；　and　there　was　no　space　to　manoeuvre　in　the　narrow　floor　of　the　valley。
　　
　　The　first　wagons　crashed　into　the　head　of　the　charge。　There　was　the　rending　of　wood；　the　screams　of　crushed　men　and　horses；　the　thunder　of　wagons　overturning　and　capsizing；　shedding　their　loads　of　rock。
　　
　　Suddenly　the　way　ahead　of　Trok　was　blocked　by　one　of　the　cumbersome　carts；　and　his　horses　swerved　into　the　chariot　running　beside　him。　In　an　instant　the　magnificent　charge　was　transformed　into　a　shambles　of　shattered　and　overturned　vehicles；　and　crippled　horses。
　　
　　The　wagons　had　sealed　off　the　valley　at　both　ends。　Even　the　chariots　that　had　not　been　smashed　and　capsized　were　now　bottled　up　in　a　struggling　mass。　The　whole　purpose　of　the　chariot；　its　strength　and　threat；　was　its　ability　to　run　and　turn；　to　charge　and　pull　back　at　speed。　Now　they　were　immobilized；　held　by　walls　of　stone；　and　Nefer's　archers　were　on　the　slopes　above　them。　The　first　volleys　decimated　the　unprotected　charioteers。　Within　minutes　the　valley　was　transformed　into　a　slaughterhouse。
　　
　　Some　of　Trok's　men　jumped　down　from　their　trapped　vehicles　and　charged　up　the　sides　of　the　valley　on　foot。　But　they　were　exhausted　by　the　gruelling　approach　march；　and　burdened　with　their　armour。　The　ground　was　steep　and　rugged　and　they　moved　only　slowly。　From　the　cover　of　the　boulders　and　walls　of　hastily　erected　stone　zarebas；　Nefer's　men　met　them　with　long　lances　and　hails　of　javelins。　Most　were　cut　down　before　they　had　reached　the　first　rank　of　defenders。
　　
　　Trok　looked　around　him　wildly；　seeking　some　way　out　of　the　trap；　but　one　of　his　horses　was　dead；　crushed　by　the　spilled　load　of　rocks　from　the　wagon　that　blocked　his　way　forward。　Behind　him　the　other　vehicles　were　so　crowded　that　there　was　no　room　for　him　to　turn　or　back　up。　Arrows　and　javelins　were　singing　around　him；　clattering　against　the　sides　of　the　chariot；　clanging　off　his　helmet　and　breastplate。
　　
　　Before　Trok　could　restrain　him；　Ishtar　took　advantage　of　the　confusion　to　spring　down　from　the　footplate　and　scuttle　away　between　the　wrecked　chariots　and　plunging；　shrilling　horses。　Then　Trok　looked　ahead　again；　and　incredulously　he　saw　Mintaka　still　standing　unmoved　on　the　top　of　the　ochre　rock　pile　just　ahead　of　him。　She　was　staring　at　him　with　a　cold　look　of　revulsion　on　her　lovely　face　that　turned　his　rage　to　madness。
　　
　　He　snatched　up　his　war　bow　from　the　rack　at　his　side　and　reached　for　an　arrow　from　the　quiver；　but　then　he　changed　his　mind；　threw　the　weapon　aside　and　shouted　at　her　over　the　heads　of　his　rearing　and　plunging　horses。　'No！　An　arrow　is　too　good　for　a　bitch　in　heat。　I　am　ing　to　get　you　with　my　bare　hands；　I　want　to　feel　you　struggling　as　I　squeeze　the　last　breath　out　of　you；　you　filthy　little　harlot。'
　　
　　He　drew　his　sword　and　sprang　down　to　the　ground。　He　ran　forward　under　the　hoofs　of　his　rearing　horse；　and　scrambled　over　the　overturned　body　of　the　wagon。　Two　of　Nefer's　men　jumped　out　from　behind　the　rocks　to　oppose　him　but　he　hacked　them　down　and　ran　over　their　twitching　corpses。　His　eyes　were　fastened　hungrily　on　the　girl　in　the　crimson　dress　standing　tall　and　proud　ahead　of　him；　the　flame　to　the　moth。
　　
　　Nefer　saw　Trok　break　out　of　the　trap；　and　he　ran　down　the　slope；　springing　from　rock　to　rock。　'Run；　Mintaka！　Get　away　from　him；'　he　shouted　urgently；　but　either　she　did　not　hear　him　or　she　would　not　listen。
　　
　　Trok　did　hear　him；　and　he　stopped　and　looked　up。　'e　on；　then；　my　pretty　boy；　I　have　enough　blade　for　both　you　and　your　whore。'
　　
　　Without　breaking　his　run；　Nefer　hurled　the　javelin　in　his　hand；　but　Trok　caught　it　neatly　in　the　centre　of　the　light　targe　he　carried　on　his　shoulder；　and　the　weapon　spun　away；　clattering　on　the　rock；　and　landed　at　Mintaka's　feet。　She　ignored　it。
　　
　　The　throw　had　been　enough　to　divert　Trok　for　the　moment；　and　Nefer　sprang　down　on　to　the　level　ground　in　front　of　him。　Trok　went　on　guard　as　Nefer　confronted　him　and　then　his　face　twisted　into　a　ferocious　grin。　He　crouched　behind　the　bronze　shield　and　waved　the　sword　in　his　right　hand。　'e；　puppy；'　he　said。　'Let　us　test　your　claim　to　the　double　crown。'
　　
　　Nefer　used　the　impetus　of　his　run　down　the　slope　and　came　at　him　without　a　pause。　Trok　caught　the　first　blow　on　the　circle　of　bronze。　Nefer　jumped　back　just　as　Trok　cut　at　him　over　the　top　of　the　targe。　Nefer　closed　in　again；　trading　thrust　for　cut。
　　
　　Nefer's　men　had　seen　him　charge　down　the　hillside。　They　followed　his　example；　left　the　cover　of　the　rocks　and　came　bounding　down　in　waves。　Within　seconds　the　full　length　of　the　valley　was　choked　from　side　to　side　with　struggling；　hacking；　thrusting　men。
　　
　　Nefer　feinted　at　Trok's　hip；　aiming　at　the　joint　of　his　armour。　When　Trok　covered；　he　swung　backhanded　at　his　face。　Trok　was　surprised　by　the　change　of　direction　and　by　the　speed　of　the　stroke。　Though　he　jerked　his　head　back　the　point　of　Nefer's　blade　split　his　cheek　open　and　the　blood　gushed　into　his　beard。　The　wound　galvanized　him；　and　Trok　roared　and　rushed　at　Nefer。　He　swung　blows　from　every　angle　with　such　rapidity　that　his　sword　seemed　to　form　an　impenetrable　wall　of　shining　bronze　around　him。　Nefer　was　forced　to　fall　back　before　the　attack　until　he　felt　the　stone　slab　on　which　Mintaka　stood　pressing　into　his　back。
　　
　　He　could　no　longer　retreat　or　manoeuvre；　and　he　was　forced　to　pit　himself　against　all　Trok's　bull…like　strength；　and　trade　him　blow　for　blow。　In　a　contest　of　this　nature；　there　were　few　men　who　could　stand　against　Trok；　who　never　seemed　to　flag；　and　he　laughed　as　Nefer　managed　to　turn　some　of　his　blows。　'Let　us　see　how　long　you　can　stem　the　tide；　boy。　I　can　go　on　like　this　all　day；　can　you？'　he　asked；　without　missing　a　stroke。　Metal　clanged　and　rang　on　metal；　while　Trok　moved　gradually　to　the　right　blocking　the　only　way　that　Nefer　might　slip　out　of　his　clutches。
　　
　　Trok's　strength　was　like　some　malignant　force　of　nature。　Nefer　felt　that　he　was　caught　in　a　great　storm　wind；　as　helpless　as　if　he　were　carried　away　on　a　rip…tide　of　the　ocean。　As　much　as　the　years　of　battle　training　had　hardened　him；　they　had　not　prepared　him　for　this。　He　felt　his　right　arm　tiring　and　slowing　as　he　tried　to　match　Trok。
　　
　　Trok　nicked　the　side　of　his　neck；　and　then　seconds　later　sliced　open　his　leather　corselet　and　scored　him　along　the　ribs。　Nefer　knew　that　his　only　chance　of　surviving　the　storm　was　to　trade　his　speed　and　agility　against　Trok's　brute　strength；　but　he　was　pinned　against　the　rock。　He　had　to　break　away。
　　
　　He　caught　the　next　cut　high　on　his　blade　and　deflected　it　just　sufficiently　to　make　an　opening　through　which　he　could　escape；　but　as　he　leaped　into　it　he　exposed　his　left　flank。　Trok　recovered　and　drove　in　a　low　thrust　that　laid　open　his　thigh　just　above　the　tattooed　cartouche。　The　blood　ran　down　into　his　sandal　and　squelched　at　every　pace　he　took。
　　
　　The　last　of　Nefer's　strength　was　ebbing　away；　and　Trok　swept　up　his　blade　and　locked　it　with　his　own；　forcing　his　guard　higher　and　higher。　Nefer　knew　that　if　he　attempted　to　break　away　he　would　expose　his　chest　for　the　killing　thrust。　Yet　the　cut　in　his　thigh　had　weakened　and　slowed　him　still　further。　The　grin　on　Trok's　face　was　triumphant。　'Courage；　boy！　It　is　nearly　over。　Then　you　can　rest…for　ever；'　he　gloated。
　　
　　Nefer　heard　Mintaka　shout　something；　but　it　made　no　sense；　and　he　could　not　afford　the　distraction。　Gradually　Trok　forced　aside　his　blade　and　towered　over　him；　so　they　came　chest　to　chest；　then　suddenly　he　shifted　his　weight　to　the　left；　towards　Nefer's　wounded　leg。　Nefer　tried　to　counter；　but　his　leg　gave　way　under　him。　Trok　hooked　his　foot　behind　Nefer's　heel　and　threw　him　over　backwards。
　　
　　The　sword　flew　from　Nefer's　weakened　grip；　and　as　he　sprawled　on　the　sunbaked　earth；　Trok　lifted　his　blade　above　his　head　with　both　hands　for　the　killing　stroke。　He　was　poised　like　that　when　suddenly　his　expression　changed　to　one　of　surprise　and　bewilderment。　Without　pleting　the　blow　he　reached　up　behind　his　own　neck　with　one　hand。　He　brought　the　hand　back　and　held　it　before　his　face。　It　was　wet　with　his　blood。　He　opened　his　mouth　to　say　something；　but　a　double　stream　of　bright　blood　trickled　from　the　corners　of　his　mouth　and　he　turned　slowly　away　from　Nefer。　Trok　stared　up　at　Mintaka　who　stood　on　the　pinnacle　of　the　rock　above　him。　With　a　detached　feeling　of　disbelief；　Nefer　saw　the　shaft　of　the　javelin　sticking　out　of　the　back　of　Trok's　neck。
　　
　　As　she　saw　Nefer　go　down；　Mintaka　had　snatched　up　the　javelin　that　lay　at　her　feet；　the　weapon　that　Nefer　had　thrown　at　the　start　of　the　engagement。　She　hurled　it　at　Trok's　back。　The　point　took　Trok　beneath　the　rim　of　his　bronze　helmet　and　went　in　deeply；　just　missing　the　spinal　column；　but　opening　the　carotid　artery。
　　
　　Standing　like　a　gargoyle　with　his　mouth　wide　open；　blood　spewing　out　in　a　fountain；　Trok　dropped　his　sword　and　reached　up。　He　seized　Mintaka　around　the　waist　and　dragged　her　screaming　from　her　perch　above　him。　He　was　trying　to　say　something；　but　the　sheets　of　blood　pouring　from　his　mouth　drowned　his　voice。
　　
　　Mintaka　screamed　as　he　crushed　her　to　his　chest；　and　Nefer　scrambled　to　his　feet。　He　picked　up　Trok's　sword　from　where　he　had　dropped　it；　and　limped　up　behind　him。
　　
　　Mintaka's　cries　had　given　renewed　strength　to　his　sword　arm。　He　sent　his　first　thrust　through　the　lacings　of　Trok's　corselet；　deeply　into　his　back。　Trok　stiffened；　and　dropped　Mintaka。　She　scrambled　away；　and　Nefer　pulled　out　the　blade　and　stabbed　again。　Swaying　on　his　feet；　Trok　turned　slowly　to　face　him。　He　took　a　step　towards　Nefer；　reaching　out　for　him　with　bloody　mailed　hands。　Nefer　stabbed　him　in　the　throat；　and　Trok　dropped　to　his　knees；　clutching　at　the　blade。　Nefer　pulled　it　away；　slicing　deeply　into　Trok's　fingers　and　palms；　severing　the　sinews　and　nerves。
　　
　　Trok　toppled　forward　on　his　face；　and　Nefer　stabbed　him　through　the　lacing；　between　his　shoulder…blades　to　his　heart。　He　left　the　blade　in　him；　and　turned　to　Mintaka　who　crouched　in　the　shelter　of　the　rock。　She　flew　to　him；　and　clung　to　him　with　all　her　strength。　Now　that　the　danger