war of the spider queen 1 dissolution-第74部分

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Some　of　the　rebels　bolted　without　further　delay；　but　at　least　half　lingered　long　enough　to　take　a　jug　or　two　from　the　hovering　boxes。　One　ore　lost　his　footing　in　the　press；　then　screamed　as　other　goblinoids　trampled　him　in　their　haste。　Meanwhile；　the　Prophet　and　his　bodyguards　slipped　out　a　door　in　the　back　wall。
〃Shall　we？〃　said　Pharaun；　striding　after　them。
〃What　of　Greyanna　and　all　the　hunters？〃　asked　Ryld。
〃We'll　contend　with　them　as　necessary；　but　I'll　be　damned　if　I　hide　in　a　hole　while　two　of　the　boys　we　worked　so　hard　to　find　vanish　into　the　night。〃
The　masters　stalked　out　onto　the　street。　The　Braeryn　already　echoed　with　more　trumpeting；　the　sporting　cries　of　dark　elves；　and　the　screams　of　undercreatures。
The　teachers　shadowed　the　Prophet　and　the　rogues　for　half　a　block。　The　trio　moved　briskly　but　without　any　trace　of　panic。　Evidently　they　were　confident　of　their　ability　to　elude　the　hunters。　Ryld　wondered　why。
Then　the　night　gave　him　other　things　to　think　about。
He　and　Pharaun　skulked　by　a　house　where　several　shouting　goblins　pounded　on　the　granite　front　door。　As　was　the　mon　practice　during　a　hunt；　the　inhabitants　refused　to　admit　them。　They　wouldn't　let　in　anyone　but　folk　who　actually　lived　there。　Otherwise；　a　rush　of　terrified　refugees　flooding　into　the　already　crowded　warren　might　trample　or　crush　some　of　the　residents…or　the　influx　might　make　the　house　a　more　provocative　target。　It　had　happened　before。
Finally　Ryld　heard　the　small；　long…armed　creatures　turn　away　from　the　structure。　They　cried　out；　then　broke　into　a　run；　their　rapid　footsteps　drumming　on　the　ground。
Ryld　had　no　idea　why1　the　goblins　were　charging　him　and　Pharaun。　Pernothaps　the　creatures　had　mistaken　them　for　tenants　of　the　house　that　had　denied　them　entry　and　thus　appropriate　targets　for　revenge。　Maybe　they　simply　wanted　to　take　their　frustrations　out　on　someone。
Not　that　it　mattered。　The　brutes　were　no　match　for　masters　of　Tier　Breche。　The　dark　elves　would　kill　them　in　a　trice。
Ryld　drew　Splitter　from　its　scabbard　and　came　on　guard；　meanwhile　taking　in　his　assailants'　pitiful　makeshift　weaponry　and　lack　of　armor。　It　was　pathetic；　really；　so　much　so　that　the　next　few　seconds　would　almost　be　a　bore。
Two　goblins　spread　out；　trying　to　flank　him。　He　stepped　in　and　swung　Splitter　left；　then　right。　The　undercreatures　fell；　one　dropping　its　crowbar　to　clang　against　the　ground　and　the　other　keeping　hold　of　its　mallet。
The　next　two　bat…eared　creatures　hesitated。　They　should　have　turned　and　run；　because　Ryld　couldn't　stand　and　wait　for　them　to　ponder　whether　they　still　wanted　to　fight。　The　Prophet　and　the　rogues　were　getting　farther　away　by　the　second。
He　stepped　in　and　cut　downward。　A　goblin；　this　one　possessed　of　a　short　sword…a　proper　warrior's　weapon；　and　some　martial　training　to　go　with　it…lifted　the　weapon　to　parry。　It　didn't　matter。　Splitter　sheared　right　through　its　blade　and　streaked　on　into　its　torso。
Knife　in　hand；　the　fourth　goblin　dodged　behind　its　foe。　Sensing　its　lonotcation；　Ryld　kicked　backward。　His　boot　connected　solidly；　snapping　bone；　and　when　he　turned　the　creature　lay　motionless　on　the　ground；　likely　dead　of　a　broken　back。
Ryld　turned　to　survey　the　battlefield。　His　eyes　widened　in　shock　and　dismay。
Pharaun　too　was　on　the　ground。　Three　goblins　crouched　over　him　on　their　bandy　legs。　One　scabrous　creature　had　blood　on　the　iron　spike　that　served　it　as　a　poniard。
Ryld　bellowed　a　war　cry；　sprang　at　them；　and　struck　them　down　before　they　could　do　any　more　damage。　He　kneeled　beside　his　friend。　Beneath　the　elegant　piwafwi；　Pharaun's　equally　gorgeous　robe　had　two　punctures　in　it；　and　was　dark　and　wet　from　breastbone　to　thighs。
〃I　heard　them　ing　a　moment　after　you　did；〃　the　wizard　wheezed。　〃I　didn't　turn　around　fast　enough。〃
〃Don't　worry；〃　said　Ryld。　〃It's　going　to　be　all　right。〃
In　reality；　he　wasn't　at　all　sure　of　that。
〃The　goblin　thrust　through　the　gap　between　the　wings　of　my　cloak。　The　little　bastard　hurt　me　when　Greyanna　and　her　followers　couldn't。　Isn't　that　silly？〃


C　h　a　p　t　e　r

T　W　E　L　V　E
When　Quenthel　had　decided　she　must　don　armor；　she　had　performed　the　task　as　methodically　as　she　did　everything　else。　She'd　put　on　a　cunningly　crafted　adamantine　gorget；　a　Baenre　heirloom；　beneath　her　chain　mail　and　piwafwi；　and　it　was　likely　that　protective　collar　that　saved　her　life。
Still；　the　unexpected　impact　on　the　nape　of　her　neck　knocked　her　fornotward　and　down　onto　one　knee；　and　the　edge　of　her　enchanted　buckler　clanked　against　the　floor。
For　a　moment；　she　was　dazed。　The　whip　vipers　hissed　and　clamored　to　rouse　her；　their　outburst　clashing　with　the　jumbled