Robert Wintermute - The Quest for Karn
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- Название:The Quest for Karn
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“There are small pockets of the enemy there,” Ezuri said. “That is known.”
Elspeth picked up on the tone of the conversation. “Yes, some,” she said.
“But what we saw come out of that mountain…,” Koth began.
“Koth,” Elspeth interrupted. “Would you introduce me to your kin?”
Koth cast an eye at the vulshok standing behind Ezuri. “He is Shield clan.” Then to the vulshok, “Come forward, Shield clan.”
The vulshok stood where he was, and looked to Ezuri. The elf nodded and the vulshok stepped forward.
“Since when do the wrought follow the bidding of those of the forests,” Koth said.
“Since we lost most of our tribe,” the vulshok replied.
“Do you know Ranglif or Nagel?”
The man shook his head.
Venser seemed unconcerned. “You must surely know the Lyser?”
The vulshok nodded once. “He is dead.”
The small smile faded off of Koth’s face. “Is that so?”
“That is so,” the vulshok said. “A battle in the Tangle did him.”
“What was he doing in the Tangle, with the elves?”
Venser watched the vulshok shrug his shoulders. The shoulder shrug must be one of the worst expressions in existence, Venser thought. So meaningless and yet so insolent.
The artificer looked critically at the band of rebels, as Koth argued with the vulshok. They had spread their ranks as Ezuri spoke. They would be hard to flank or evade. Still, if they could get to the other side of that large rock behind Koth, it might be possible to run through the boulder field. With a little luck they might find an exit before Ezuri and his thugs caught up. It was worth trying.
But Ezuri had been watching Venser. When the artificer moved, three of Ezuri’s elves had their bows up and aimed.
“Do not move, friend,” Ezuri said. “You really are going to accompany us.”
Venser took a breath. In his toes and ears he could feel his mana tingling and building. He had enough mana for a very small jump. It could perhaps take him behind the large boulder. But if he made that jump he would be completely without mana and fighting all of them.
“We have watched you disappear,” Ezuri said. “Do not do that here.” To make his point, Ezuri had his archers point arrows at Elspeth.
Venser nodded. “Mirrodin will continue to suffer unless we find this person,” Venser said.
“Then we will suffer,” Ezuri said. “And to be honest with you, Mirrodin’s suffering has allowed me this position of leadership. So, let her suffer more, Mirrodin. I could not have risen as I have without the Phyrexians or the Vanishing.”
“That is blasphemy!” Koth said.
“Oh, hush, Koth, son of Kamath,” Ezuri said. “We know of you and yours. You have no standing with us. If, indeed, you have any with your own people.”
“Mirrodin will find herself again soon, when all machinery has been cleansed from her face and bowels,” Ezuri said. “Our decline started with vedalken tinkering. If they had left the inner working of Mirrodin a great, natural secret instead of mucking around and making her into a machine.”
Venser yawned. “Mirrodin is metal, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Mirrodin is alive,” Ezuri said, and then a sneer crossed his face. “We have no need of artificers here, my friend. Tinkering has got us to this impasse. Phyrexians are tinkerers.”
“They are not artificers,” Venser said, unconcerned by the red face of the elf. “Artificers create.”
Elspeth, who had been standing a bit back from the rest, stepped forward. She spoke simply, with no expression on her smooth face. “We are here in this place to help, for the good of this plane. If you force my hand, I will be compelled to slay you all. You are not thinking about the good of your plane, about what is good for all. Only for yourselves. So, for you own good, I will be compelled to teach you humility and discipline at the edge of my sword.” She held her sword up, glittering, in the vast room of piled boulders.
All of Ezuri’s force nocked arrows and pointed them at Elspeth. “Suit yourself,” Ezuri said, but his voice betrayed a certain unease.
“This will not go well for you,” Koth said offhandedly.
“What would a coward know?” Ezuri said. “You leave your people alone and undefended. Your home is overrun, rock man. Your people are scattered and they died calling your name, but you were away on your merry travels.”
Koth was instantly bright red. “You might slay me, but I will kill at least three quarters of your numbers. And you first,” he said, pointing at Ezuri.
“Oh really?” Ezuri squinted and spat at the nearest rock. He stepped forward.
“Shall we see?” Koth said.
Elspeth nodded. “Ready.”
Ezuri turned to one of his men and seized his bow. He turned back to Koth and Elspeth.
“Gentlemen!” Venser bellowed. “Wait.” The artificer opened his hand and a bright flash popped. Venser rushed forward and knocked the bow from Ezuri’s numb fingers.
Taken by a sudden terror caused by Venser’s magic, the other rebels turned and ran. Yet Ezuri did not run. He stood looking from Venser to Elspeth. “You will bring the Phyrexians storming up,” Ezuri said.
“That has already come to pass,” Elspeth said. She was gasping between words to keep her battle lust abated. “You should flee to your home and prepare for the worst.”
But the elf did not seem convinced, Venser thought. As long as his hand did not stray to the sword on his belt he would live.
He stared at them a moment longer, before turning on his heel and following the other rebels.
Venser sat down hard on the nearest boulder. All of a sudden, he felt a familiar pinch in his brow. His stomach tightened. His skin began to shiver. He felt like he was succumbing to the onset of a sudden sickness, but he knew he was not. It was a familiar feeling and he knew its cure. He also knew what would happen if he did not cure it within the next hour.
He began patting the many pockets sewn into the leather tunic under his loose-fitting armor. His britches were similarly accoutered and he felt those as well. The vial was in a pocket sewn onto the back of his pants. Koth’s eyes were fixated on Ezuri’s last position. The vulshok was still as red as fire, and grumbling under his breath. Elspeth watched as Venser drew out the vial.
“Leave me,” Venser said. “Let me have my peace.”
“Why?” Elspeth said, forgetting all about Ezuri, who she had only minutes before been willing to kill.
Venser shook his head, his patience waning. His stomach ached and he could feel the mana on his brow bubbling and seething for what he was holding in his hand. As soon as the white warrior left he would be able to…
“You want what’s in that bottle, don’t you?” Elspeth said.
Venser said nothing.
“You should see yourself. Your skin has gone to the color of ash. Have you seen that your left hand is trembling?”
Venser knew that more than his hand would start shaking if he didn’t have what was in the bottle.
“Leave!” Venser yelled suddenly. He did not know he would yell. Yet when he opened his mouth it was indeed a yell that came out. It didn’t stop there. He continued to yell with such force, spittle came out of his mouth. “I will make that metal in your armor writhe like a snake and melt itself through your very flesh.”
Elspeth blinked at his words. “What is in that bottle?” she said.
Venser’s head was suddenly pounding. It always happened so quickly. “I will give you to the count of five before I begin working with your armor. I am an artificer-it is easy for me to talk to the metal in you. One, two, three.”
Elspeth put up her hands and began walking backward. “What will happen to you when you use all that is in that bottle of yours?”
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