war of the spider queen 1 dissolution-第80部分

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lade　as　long　as　the　greatsword。　Houndaer　rushed　in　to　deliver　the　finishing　stroke。
〃Tuin'Tarir　he　screamed。
His　face　still　as　blank　as　a　zombie's；　the　weapons　master　dodged　to　the　side。
Houndaer　turned；　following　the　target；　and　saw　that　Ryld　had　ducked　behind　one　of　a　row　of　wooden　mannequins。　Up　close；　the　crudely　carved　dummies　were　oddly　disquieting　figures；　smirking　identical　smiles　despite　their　countless　stigmata　of　dents　and　gashes。
Ryld　stood　poised；　waiting；　and　Houndaer　discerned　the　spy's　intent。　When　his　adversary　lunged　around　one　side　of　the　dummy；　the　master　would　circle　in　the　opposite　direction；　thus　maintaining　a　barrier　between　them。
Houndaer　saw　no　reason　to　play　that　game；　not　if　his　new　sword　was　as　keen　as　it　was　supposed　to　be。　He　brought　the　blade　around　in　a　low　arc。　It　tore　away　the　mannequin　with　scarcely　a　jolt；　depriving　Ryld　of　his　pitinotful　protection。
Unfortunately；　the　weapons　master　sprang　forward　at　the　very　same　innotstant；　before　Houndaer　could　pull　the　greatsword　back　for　another　cut。　Ryld　slashed　at　the　noble's　throat。
Houndaer　frantically　wrenched　himself　back；　interposing　his　weapon　between　himself　and　the　spy；　before　recognizing　that　the　cut　had　been　more　of　a　feint　than　anything　else。　Ryld　had　tricked　him　into　assuming　a　pletely　defensive　attitude；　then　seized　the　opportunity　to　dash　past　him。　Houndaer　cut　at　the　master's　back　but　only　managed　to　tear　his　bilnotlowing　cloak。
The　Tuin'Tarl　gave　chase；　and　Tsabrak；　dying　or　dead　but　still　mindnotlessly　ambulatory；　staggered　into　his　path。　Houndaer　shouted　in　frustranottion　and　cut　the　drider　down。
When　the　hybrid　fell；　the　noble　could　see　what　was　happening　behind　him。　Ryld　had　reached　Tsabrak's　fallen　sword。　Heedless　of　the　venom　drying　on　the　blade；　the　teacher　slipped　his　toe　under　the　weapon；　flipped　it　into　the　air；　and　caught　it　neatly　by　the　hilt。　His　expression　as　unfathnotomable　as　ever；　he　came　on　guard　and　advanced。
I　can　still　kill　him；　Houndaer　thought；　I　still　have　the　reach　on　him。
Aloud；　he　shouted；　〃Here！　I've　got　one　of　the　masters　here！〃
Ryld　stepped　to　the　verge　of　the　distance；　then　hovered　there。　Confident　in　his　ability　to　defend；　he　wanted　Houndaer　to　strike　at　him。　A　fencer　couldn't　attack　without　opening　himself　up。
At　first；　the　noble　declined　to　oblige。　He　intended　to　wait　his　opponent　out。　Ryld　beat　his　blade。
The　clanging　impact　startled　a　response　out　of　him；　but　at　least　it　was　a　posed　attack。　Feint　to　the　chest；　feint　to　the　flank；　cut　low　and　hack　the　opponent's　legs　out　from　underneath　him。
Even　as　he　flowed　into　the　final　count；　he　remembered　Ryld　teaching　him　the　sequence；　and　sure　enough；　the　instructor　wasn't　fooled。　He　parnotried　the　genuine　low…line　attack；　then　riposted　to　Houndaer's　wrist。　The　broadsword　bit　through　his　gauntlet　and　into　the　flesh　beneath。
Ryld　pulled　his　weapon　free　in　a　spatter　of　gore。　He　drove　deeper；　cutting　at　Houndaer's　torso。　The　Tuin'Tarl　floundered　backward　out　of　the　distance；　meanwhile　heaving　the　greatsword　back　into　a　threatening　position。
His　bloody　wrist　throbbed；　and　the　huge　blade　trembled。　It　was　brutally　hard　to　hold　it　up；　its　enchantments　notwithstanding。　He　choked　up　on　it；　his　weakened　hand　clutching　the　ricasso；　but　that　only　helped　a　little。　He　listened　for　the　sound　of　another　party　of　rogues　rushing　to　his　aid。　He　didn't　hear　it。
〃Well　done；　Master　Argith！〃　Houndaer　declared。　〃I　declare　myself　beaten。　I　yield。〃
Ryld　stalked　forward；　broadsword　at　the　ready。
〃Please！〃　said　the　Tuin'Tarl。　〃We　always　got　along；　didn't　we？　I　was　one　of　your　most　dutiful　students；　and　I　can　help　you　get　out　of　here。〃
The　teacher　kept　ing；　and　Houndaer　saw　that　his　face　wasn't　empty　or　expressionless　after　all。　It　might　be　devoid　of　emotion；　but　it　revealed　a　preternatural；　almost　demonic　concentration；　focused　entirely　on　slaughter。
Houndaer　saw　his　own　inescapable　death　there；　and；　suffused　with　a　strange　calm；　he　lowered　the　greatsword。　Ryid's　blade　sheared　into　his　chest　an　instant　later。
The　echoing　metallic　crash　startled　Quenthel。　It　was　well　that　she'd　spent　a　lifetime　learning　self　control；　for　otherwise；　she　might　have　cried　out　in　dismay。
She　and　her　squad　were　patrolling　the　temple。　After　the　events　of　the　past　four　nights　it　would　have　been　mad　to　relax　their　vigilance；　but　as　the　hours　had　crept　uneventfully　by；　her　troops　began　to　speculate　that　the　siege　was　over。　After　all；　it　was　supposed　to　be。　The　bone　wand　had　supnotposedly　turned　the　malignancy　of　the　past　night's　sending　back　on　she　who　cast　the　curse。
Yet　Quenthel　had　found　she　wasn't　quite　ready　to　share　in　the　general　optimism。　Yes；　she'd　turned　an　attack　back　on　its　source；　but　that　didn't　necessarily　mean　her　faceless　enemy　had　succumbed　to　the　demon's　attennottions。　The　spellcaster　could　have　survived；　and　if　so；　she　could　keep　right　on　dispatching　her　unearthly　assassins。
From　the　sound　of　it；　another　such　had　just　broken　in；　and　Quenthel　didn't　have　another　little　bone　wand。
For　a　moment；　the　Baenre　felt　a　surge　of　fear；　perhaps　even　despair；　and　she　swallowed　it　down。
〃Follow　me；〃　she　snapped。
Perhaps　her　subordinates　would　prove　of　some　use　for　a　change。
Their　tread　silent　in　their　enchanted　boots；　the　priestesses　trotted　in　the　direction　of　the　noise。　Greenish　torchlight　splashed　their　shadows　on　the　walls。　Parchment　rattled　as　one　novice　fumbled　open　a　scroll。　Female　voices　began　to　shout。　Power　reddened　the　air　for　an　instant　and　brushed　a　gritty；　pricking　feeling　across　the　priestesses'　skin。
〃It's　not　a　demon；〃　said　Yngoth；　twisting　up　from　the　whip　handle　to　place　his　eyes　on　a　level　with　Quenthel's　own。　Her　stride　made　his　scaly　wedge　of　a　head　bob　up　and　down。
〃No？〃　she　asked。　〃Has　my　enemy　e　to　continue　our　duel　in　person？〃
She　hoped　so。　With　her　minions　at　her　back；　Quenthel　would　have　a　good　chance　of　crushing　the　arrogant　fool。
But　alas；　it　wasn't　so。　Her　course　led　her　to　the　entry　hall　with　the　spider　statues。　The　poor　battered　valves　hung　breached　and　crooked　once　again。　This　time　the　culprit　was　a　huge；　disembodied；　luminous　hand；　floating　open　with　fingers　up　as　if　signaling　someone　to　halt。　A　lanky　male　in　a　baggy　cloak　had　taken　shelter　behind　the　translucent　manifestation　from　the　spears　and　arrows　that　several　priestesses　were　sending　his　way。
Quenthel　sighed；　because　she　knew　the　lunatic；　and　he　couldn't　possibly　be　her　unknown　foe。　By　all　accounts；　he'd　been　too　busy　down　in　the　city　the　past　few　days。
She　gestured　with　the　whip；　terminating　the　barrage　of　missiles。
〃Master　Mizzrym；〃　she　called。　〃You　pound　your　crimes　by　breaknoting　in　where　no　male　may　e　unbidden。〃
Pharaun　bent　low　in　obeisance。　He　looked　winded；　and；　most　peculiarly　for　such　a　notorious　dandy；　disheveled。
〃Mistress；　I　beg　your　pardon；　but　I　must　confer　with　you。　Time　is　of　the　essence。〃
〃I　have　little　to　say　to　you　except　to　condemn　you　as　the　Archmage　should　have　done。〃
〃Kill　me　if　you　must。〃　The　giant　hand　winked　out　of　existence　and　he　continued；　〃Given　my　recent　peccadilloes；　I　half　expected　it。　But　hear　my　message　first。　The　undercreatures　are　rebelling。〃
Quenthel　narrowed　her　eyes　and　asked；　〃The　Archmage　sent　you　here　with　this　news？〃
〃Alas；〃　the　mage　replied；　〃I　was　unable　to　locate　him　but　knew　this　was　something　that　must　be　brought　to　the　attention　of　the　most　senior　memnotbers　of　the　Academy。　I　realize　no　one　ever　dreamed　it　could　happen；　but　it　has。　Walk　to　the　verge　of　the　plateau　with　me；　and　you'll　see。〃
The　Baenre　frowned。　Pharaun's　manner　was　too　presumptuous　by　half；　yet　something　in　it　manded　attention。
〃Very　well；〃　she　said；　〃but　if　this　is　some　sort　of　demented　jest；　you'll　suffer　for　i