蛛后之战(被遗忘的国度系列英文版)-第24部分

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These　were　tasks　that　would　doubtless　keep　her　occupied　for　the　rest　of　the　night；　but　she　knew　she　had　to　find　a　way　to　stop　the　intrusions；　and　pull　the　fangs　of　another　crisis　as　well。
It　would　all　for　make　an　arduous　day's　labor；　with　the　oute　uncertain　enough　to　depress　even　a　high　priestess。　Still；　her　mood　lifted　slightly　when　her　vipers　began　to　stir。
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〃I　have　a　healing　potion；〃　said　Ryld。　He　took　a　small　pewter　vial　from　his　pouch；　unstoppered　it；　and　held　it　to　Pharaun's　lips。　The　wizard　drank　the　liquid　down。
〃That　might　be　a　little　better；〃　Pharaun　said　after　a　moment。　〃But　it's　still　bad。　I'm　still　bleeding。　On　the　inside；　too；　I　think。　Do　you　have　any　more？〃
〃No。〃
〃Pity。　A　wretched　little　goblin　did　this。　I　can't　believe　it。〃
〃Can　you　walk？〃　asked　Ryld。
Pharaun　would　have　to　move　or　be　moved；　somehow。　He　couldn't　just　lie　in　the　street；　not　in　the　Braeryn；　not　on　a　night　when　the　hunt　was　out。　It　was　far　too　dangerous。
〃Possibly。〃　The　mage　strained　to　lift　himself　up　with　his　hands；　then　slumped　back　down。　〃But　apparently　not。〃
〃I'll　carry　you；〃　said　Ryld。
He　gathered　the　mage　in　his　arms；　and　bidding　Pharaun　do　the　same；　called　upon　the　magic　of　his　House　insignia。　They　floated　slowly　upward；　and　swung　onto　a　rooftop。
The　view　from　that　vantage　point　was　far　from　encouraging。　Screaming　undercreatures　ran　through　the　streets　and　alleys　of　the　Braeryn　with　whooping　riders　in　pursuit。　The　dark　elves　killed　the　goblins　with　the　thrust　of　a　lance；　the　slash　of　a　sword；　or　simply　by　trampling　them　under　the　clawed　feet　of　their　lizards。　They　tended　to　find　intimate　mayhem　more　amusing。　Some；　however；　had　no　qualms　about　loosing　a　quarrel　or　conjuring　a　blast　of　magic。
Still　other　drow　wheeled　above　the　scene　on　foulwings；　wyverns；　and　other　winged　mounts。　Ryld　saw　danger　on　every　side。
He　hauled　Pharaun　up　against　a　sort　of　gable　in　the　hope　that　it　would　provide　cover　against　the　scrutiny　of　the　flyers。
〃It's　bad；〃　the　swordsman　said。　〃A　lot　of　drow　are　hunting。　There's　no　clear　path　out　of　the　district。〃
The　wizard　didn't　reply。
〃Pharaun〃
〃Yes；〃　sighed　his　friend；　〃I'm　still　conscious。　Barely。〃
〃We'll　hide　here　until　the　hunt　ends。　I'll　cover　us　with　a　patch　of　darkness。〃
〃That　might　w—〃
Pharaun　gasped　and　thrashed。　Ryld　held　on　to　him　for　fear　that　he'd　roll　off　the　roof。
When　the　seizure　ended；　the　Mizzrym's　face　seemed　gaunt　and　drawn　in　a　way　it　hadn't　been　before。　More　blood　seeped　from　his　wounded　stomach。
〃This　isn't　going　to　work；〃　said　Ryld；　〃not　by　itself。　Unless　you　have　some　more　healing；　you're　going　to　die。〃
〃That　would　be　。。。　a　profound　tragedy　。　。　。　but　。　。　。〃
〃We　have　plenty　of　dark　elves　in　the　Braeryn　tonight。　One　of　them　surely　brought　some　restorative　magic　along。　I'll　just　have　to　take　it　from　him；　or　her。　Here's　that　darkness。〃
Ryld　touched　the　roof　and　conjured　a　shadow　that　covered　the　Master　of　Sorcere　and　not　much　else。　With　luck；　the　effect　was　localized　enough　that　no　one　would　notice　the　obscuration　itself。
The　weapons　master　rose　and　raced　away。　Whenever　possible；　he　ran　along　the　rooftops；　bounding　from　one　to　the　next。　Often　enough；　however；　the　houses　were　far　enough　apart　that　he　had　to　jump　down　to　the　ground　and　skulk　his　way　through　the　slaughter。
It　was　at　such　a　time　that　he　saw　another　hunting　party。　Unfortunately；　the　group　was　too　large　to　tackle。　He　had　to　hide　from　it　instead。　Crouched　low；　he　watched　a　mage　on　lizardback　lob　a　yellow　spark　through　the　window　of　one　of　the　houses。　Booming；　yellow　flame　exploded　through　the　room　beyond。　A　moment　after　it　died；　the　screaming　began。　Ryld　winced。　As　a　child　of　six；　he'd　survived　precisely　such　a　massacre；　and；　severely　blistered；　lain　trapped　for　hours　beneath　a　weight　of　charred；　stinking　bodies；　the　luckier　ones　dead；　the　live　ones　whimpering　and　twitching　in　their　helpless　agony。
But　it　wasn't　him　burned　nor　buried　tonight；　and　he　spat　the　unpleasant　memory　away。　He　glanced　about；　checking　to　see　if　anyone　was　looking　at　him；　then　broke　from　cover　and　floated　upward。
He　dashed　on　along　a　steeply　sloping　roof　engraved　with　web　patterns　and　defaced；　he　noticed；　with　another　slave　race　emblem。　He　sensed　something　above　and　behind　him；　and　pivoted。　His　boots　slipped；　and　he　levitated　for　an　instant　while　he　found　his　footing　amid　the　carvings。
He　looked　up　and　spied　a　huge　black　horse　galloping　through　the　air　as　easily　as　the　mon　equines　of　the　World　Above　could　run　across　a　field。　Fire　crackled　around　its　hooves　and　pulsed　from　its　nostrils。　The　dark　elf　male　on　its　back　held　a　scimitar；　but　wasn't　making　any　extraordinary　effort　to　lift　it　into　position　for　a　cut。　Apparently　he　was　counting　on　his　demonic　steed　to　make　the　kill；　and　why　not？　What　goblinoid　could　withstand　a　nightmare？
Ryld　froze　as　if　he　were　such　a　hapless　undercreature　paralyzed　with　fear。　Meanwhile；　he　timed　the　speed　of　the　nightmare's　approach。　At　the　last　possible　moment；　hoping　to　take　the　phantom　horse　and　its　master　by　surprise；　he　whipped　Splitter　out　of　its　scabbard　and　cut。
And　missed。　Somehow　the　demon　arrested　its　charge；　and　the　blade　fell　short。
Its　fiery　hooves　churning　eighteen　inches　above　the　rooftop；　the　nightmare　snorted。　Thick；　hot；　sulfurous　smoke　streamed　from　its　nostrils；　enveloping　Ryld；　stinging　and　half　blinding　him。　He　heard　more　than　saw　the　black　creature　lunging；　striking　with　its　reptilian　fangs；　and　he　retreated　a　step。　The　move　saved　him；　but　when　he　counterattacked；　the　nightmare　too　had　taken　itself　out　of　range。
Through　the　stinking　vapor；　he　glimpsed　the　infernal　horse　circling。　It　sprang　at　him　again；　this　time　rearing　to　batter　him　with　its　front　hooves。　He　crouched　and　lifted　Splitter。　The　point　took　the　steed　in　the　chest；　and　for　a　moment；　he　thought　he'd　disposed　of　it；　but；　its　legs　working　frantically；　it　flew　upward；　lifting　itself　off　the　blade　before　it　could　penetrate　too　deeply。
The　next　few　seconds　were　difficult。　Ryld　could　barely　make　out　his　foes；　while　the　nightmare　could　apparently　see　through　its　own　smoke　perfectly　well。　He　stood　and　turned　precariously　on　the　crest　of　the　roof；　in　constant　danger　of　losing　his　balance；　whereas　the　flying　horse　could　maneuver　wherever　it　pleased。　Just　to　make　life　even　more　interesting；　the　rider　started　swinging　his　curved　sword。　Fortunately；　like　most　denizens　of　the　Underdark；　he　had　little　notion　of　how　to　fight　on　horseback；　but　his　clumsy　strokes　still　posed　a　danger。
Ryld　wanted　to　end　the　confrontation　quickly；　before　someone　discovered　Pharaun's　hiding　place。　Unfortunately；　in　light　of　all　his　disadvantages；　the　weapons　master　thought　the　only　way　of　doing　that　was　to　take　a　risk。　The　next　time　the　demon　reared；　he　let　one　of　the　blazing　hooves　slam　him　in　the　chest。
His　dwarven　breastplate　rang　but　held。　The　blow　hurt　cruelly　but　didn't　break　any　ribs　or　otherwise　incapacitate　him。　He　fell　backward；　banged　down　on　the　east　pitch　of　the　roof；　and　started　to　tumble。　Kicking　and　scrabbling；　negating　his　weight；　he　managed　to　catch　himself　and　twist　around　into　a　low　fighting　stance。
The　nightmare　was　rushing　in　to　finish　him　off。　He　swung　Splitter；　and　this　time　the　demon　was　too　mitted　to　the　attack　to　halt　its　forward　momentum。　The　greatsword　slashed　through　its　neck；　nearly　severing　the　head　with　its　luminous　scarlet　eyes。　The　steed　toppled　sideways　and　rolled；　leaving　a　trail　of　embers。　The　rider　tried　to　jump　free；　but　he　was　too　slow。　The　nightmare　crushed　him　on　its　way　to　the　ground。
Ryld　tore　open　the　dead　male's　purse；　then　floated　down　to　the　demon　horse　and　checked　the　saddlebags。　There　were　no　potions　or　any　other　means　of　mending　a　wound。
Why；　he　wondered；　should　he　expect　to　find　such　a　thing　among　the　noble's　effects？　The　noble　had　e　to　the　Braeryn　for　some　lighthearted　sport。　He　hadn't　believed　the　goblins　couldn't　hurt　him　or　that　he　was　in　any　other　danger；　so　why　bring　a　remedy　for　grievous　harm　to　the　festivities；　even　if　he　was　lucky　enough　to　possess　one？
There　were　only　five　hunters　who'd　e　there　with　a　deadly　serious　purpose；　prepared　to　cross　swords　with　formidable　foes：　Greyanna　and　her　retainers。　They　were　far　more　likely　to　carry　healing　magic　than　any　other　drow　whom　Ryld　might　opt　to　waylay。
Alas；　they　were　likely　to　prove　more　trouble　as　well；　but　if　he　wanted　to　save　Pharaun；　he'd　just　have　to　cope。　Pharaun　was　a　useful　ally；　and　Ryld　was　unwilling　to　let　that　carefully　nurtured　relationship　expire　easily。　He　skulked　on；　ignoring　the　hunters　who　obliviously　crossed　his　path；　until　he　finally　spied　a　familiar　figure　on　a　rooftop　just　ahead　of　him。
Still　masked；　one　of　Greyanna's　twin　warriors　was　stalking　along　that　eminence。　An　arrow　nocked；　he　peered　down　into　the　street　below。
Ryld　threw　himself　down　behind　a　stubby　little　false　minaret　on　his　roof。　He　peered　around　it；　looking　for　the　rest　of　the　wouldbe　murderers。
He　didn't　see　them。　Maybe　the　band　had　split　up；　the　better　to　look　for　their　quarry。　They'd　have　to；　wouldn't　they；　to　oversee　the　entire　district。
He　ducked　back；　cocked　his　hand　crossbow　and　laid　a　poisoned　dart　in　the　channel。　He　and　Pharaun　had　been　reluctant　to　kill　their　pursuers；　but　with　the　wizard　dying；　Ryld　was　no　longer　overly　concerned　with　a　petty　retainer's　life。
He　leaned　back　around；　his　finger　already　tightening　on　the　trigger—　and　the　space　where　the　archer　had　stood　was　empty。　Ryld　cast　about；　and　after　a　moment　spotted　the　male　atop　a　round；　flatroofed　little　tower　adhering　to　the　main　body　of　the　building。
That　posed　two　problems。　One　was　that　the　warrior　was　farther　away　and　ten　feet　higher　up；　at　or　beyond　the　limit　of　the　little　crossbow's　range。　The　other　was　that　the　male　happened　to　be　looking　in　Ryld's　direction。　His　eyes　flew　open　wide　when　he　spotted　his　quarry。
Ryld　shot；　and　his　dart　fell　short　of　the　tower。　A　split　second　later；　the　twin　pulled　back　his　bowstring　and　loosed　his　arrow　in　one　fluid　motion。　The　shaft　looked　like　a　gradually　swelling　dot；　which　meant　it　was　speeding　straight　at　its　target。
Ryld　dodged　back。　The　arrow　whizzed　past；　and　the　archer　shouted；　〃Here〃
The　weapons　master　scowled；　feeling　the　pressure　of　passing　time　even　more　acutely　than　before。　He　didn't　want　to　be　there　when　the　rest　of　the　enemy　arrived；　and　the　only　hope　of　avoiding　it　was　to　dispose　of　his　present　opponent　quickly。　The　longbow　simply　had　his　hand　crossbow　outclassed。　He　needed　to　get　in　close。
He　drew　Splitter；　sprang　out　into　the　open；　and　strode　toward　his　foe。　The　archer　sent　one　arrow　after　another　winging　his　way；　and　he　knocked　them　out　of　the　air。　The　defense　was　considerably　more　difficult　advancing　across　the　irregular　surface　of　the　roof　than　it　would　have　been　standing　still　on　the　ground。
Ryld　began　to　sweat；　and　his　heart　beat　faster；　but　he　was　managing。　There　came　another　shaft；　this　one　aglitter　with　some　form　of　enchantment；　and　he　swatted　it　down。　Rattling；　it　rolled　on　down　the　pitch　of　the　roof。
He　took　another　step；　slapped　aside　another　missile；　then　heard　something—he　didn't　know　what；　just　an　indefinable　change　in　the　sounds　around　him。　He　remembered　that　some　enchanters　created　magical　weapons　capable　of　more　than　flying　truer　and　hitting　harder。
He　spun　around。　The　sparkling　arrow　had　launched　itself　back　into　the　air　and　circled　around　behind　him。　It　was　streaking　toward　its　target　and　was　only　a　few　feet　from　his　body。
Ryld　wrenched　Splitter　across　in　a　desperate　parry。　The　edge　caught　the　arrow　and　split　it　in　two。　Spinning　through　the　air；　the　piece　with　the　point　hit　his　shoulder；　but；　thanks　to　his　armor；　did　him　no　harm。
He　lurched　back　around　with　barely　enough　time　to　deflect　the　next　shaft；　then　marched　on。　Four　more　paces　brought　him　to　the　end　of　the　roof。
The　gap　between　this　house　and　the　next　was　five　yards　across。　He　took　a　running　start；　made　himself　nearly　weightless；　and　jumped。　The　twin　tried　to　hit　when　he　was　in　the　air；　but　for　a　blessed　change；　his　arrow　flew　wild。　Ryld　thumped　down　atop　the　same　structure　his　opponent　occupied。　It　felt　as　if　it　had　taken　forever　to　get　this　far；　even　though　he　knew　it　had　really　been　less　than　a　minute。
Not　that　he　was　done　running　the　gauntlet。　The　arrows　kept　hurtling　at　him；　including　one　that　gave　an　eerie　scream；　filling　him　with　an　unnatural　fear　until　he　quashed　the　feeling；　and　another　that　turned　into　a　miniature　harpy　in　flight。　Yet　another　struck　two　paces　in　front　him　and　exploded　into　a　curtain　of　fire。　Squinting　at　the　glare；　he　wrapped　his　piwafwi　around　him　and　dived　through；　emerging　singed　but　essentially　unscathed。
After　that；　he　was　close　enough　to　the　tower　to　cancel　most　of　his　weight　and　leap　up　to　the　top。　He　sprang　into　the　air　like　a　jumping　spider　and　alit　on　the　platform。　The　twin　hastily　set　down　his　bow　and　drew　his　scimitar。
〃Do　you　have　any　healing　magic？〃　Ryld　asked。　〃If　so；　give　it　to　me；　and　I'll　let　you　go。〃
The　other　warrior　smiled　unpleasantly　and　said；　〃My　rades　will　start　arriving　any　second。　Surrender　now；　tell　me　where　Pharaun　is；　and　perhaps　Princess　Greyanna　will　let　you　live。〃
〃No。〃
Ryld　cut　at　the　warrior's　head。　The　other　male　jumped　back　out　of　range；　sidestepped；　and　slashed　at　the　weapons　master's　arm。　Ryld　parried；　beat　the　scimitar　aside；　and　the　fight　was　on。
Over　the　course　of　the　next　few　seconds；　the　Mizzrym　warrior　gave　ground　consistently。　Twice；　he　nearly　stepped　off　the　flat；　round　tabletop　that　was　the　apex　of　the　tower　but　on　both　occasions　spun　himself　away　from　the　edge　in　time。　He　was　a　good　duelist；　and　he　was　fighting　defensively　while　he　waited　for　reinforcements　to　arrive。　That　made　him　hard　to　hit。　Hard；　but　not　impossible。
Pressing；　Ryld　feinted　high　on　the　inside　to　draw　the　parry；　swung　his　greatsword　down　and　around；　and　cut　low　on　the　outside。　Splitter　sheared　into　the　Mizzrym's　torso　just　below　the　ribs；　and　he　collapsed　in　a　gush　of　blood。
Magic　trilled　and　flickered　through　the　air。　When　Ryld　spun　around；　the　other　twin　and　Relonor　popped　into　being　on　the　rooftop　below。　Obviously；　House　Mizzrym's　mage　could　teleport　on　his　own；　without　the　aid　of　the　brooch　Pharaun　had　pilfered。
His　voluminous　sleeves　sliding　down　to　his　elbows；　Relonor　lifted　his　arms　and　started　to　cast　a　spell。　The　newly　arrived　twin　nocked　an　arrow　and　drew　back　the　string　of　his　pale　bone　bow。
Ryld　threw　himself　down　on　his　stomach。　He　was　ten　feet　above　his　adversaries；　and　he　hoped　that　they　couldn't　see　him。　Sure　enough；　no　magic　or　arrow　flew　in　his　direction。　He　scuttled　across　the　platform—enchantments　in　his　armor　deadening　the　sound　of　his　footfalls—and　grabbed　his　previous　opponent's　bow　and　quiver；　then　scrambled　to　his　knees。
The　twin　and　the　wizard　rose　above　the　platform；　the　former　levitating；　the　latter　soaring　in　an　arc　that　revealed　some　magical　capacity　for　actual　flight。　The　archer　loosed　an　arrow；　and　mystical　energy　flashed　from　Relonor's　fingertips。
The　Mizzrym's　magic　reached　its　target　first。　A　ghastly　shriek　stabbed　through　Ryld's　ears　and　into　his　brain。　He　cried　out　and　flailed　in　agony。　The　warrior's　arrow　plunged　into　his　thigh；　and　the　razoredged　point　burst　from　the　other　side。
After　a　moment；　the　screaming　stopped。　Ryld　could　feel　that　it　had　hurt　him；　perhaps　worse　than　the　arrow　had；　but　had　no　time　or　inclination　to　fret　about　it。　Quickly　as　few　folk　save　a　master　of　M