[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

Amilcar's sword swung down as Arthur's rose to meet it. There was a peal of ringing metal, a flash of
spark, and the Black Boar's blade fractured, sheared neatly in two.
The wild-eyed triumph in the Vandal chieftain's face melted into disbelief as he stared at the swordblade
lying at his feet. Cut Steel had served its master well.
With a heroic effort, Arthur gathered his legs beneath him and raised himself up. He stood, swaying, his
wounded arm hanging uselessly at his side, the lancehead still firmly stuck. The bright blue woad on his
body was now mixed with sweat and deep red blood. Head bowed, he stared unblinking at his
adversary.
The Vandali, stricken by the swift turnabout, fell silent, the shouts of triumph dying in their throats.
Silence claimed the plain. Arthur steadied himself and squared his shoulders.
The Black Boar, clutching the useless hilt with its stub of broken blade, glowered at the High King. With
a shout of defiance, he flung himself at Arthur, slashing fiercely with the broken shard of his blade.
Unable to fend off the blows, Arthur stepped aside and lowered Caledvwlch. But his courage had not
deserted him; even as he evaded Amilcar he prepared his last defence. As Amilcar leapt, Arthur's hand
 steady, calm, unhurried  snaked out, swinging the sword level. The Black Boar's charge carried him
onto the blade. Amilcar threw back his head and roared  a cry of shock and sharp defiance  then
lowered his eyes to view the sword driven up under his rib cage. He had impaled himself on Arthur's
sword.
The Black Boar raised his head and smiled  his eyes glazed and his grin icy. He lurched towards
Arthur, forcing the blade still deeper into himself. Blood bubbled out of the wound in a sudden crimson
rush. He opened his mouth to speak; his tongue strained at the words, but his legs gave way and he fell to
the ground, where he lay twitching and convulsing.
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
Stepping to Amilcar's body, Arthur extracted Caledvwlch from his enemy's chest. Clenching his jaw
against the pain, he raised the blade to shoulder height and let it drop swiftly down, severing the Black
Boar's neck with a stroke. Amilcar's head rolled free and the dreadful quivering ceased.
Arthur stood for a moment, then turned and staggered towards us. In the same instant, a scream tore the
stillness of the battleground. One of the Vandal warlords  Ida, it was  rushed out onto the battlefield,
readying his spear as he ran. 'Arthur!' Gwenhwyvar shouted. 'Behind you!' Arthur turned his head, not
yet apprehending the danger closing on him from behind.
'Arthur!' she screamed, already racing to his side. Llenlleawg was instantly at her back.
Britain's king half turned to meet his new assailant and his legs buckled under him. He crashed to his
knees. Arthur made to rise, but his attacker was closing fast. One quick spear thrust andBritain's High
King would be dead.
Gwenhwyvar's knife glinted like a fiery disc in the sun as it spun in the air. It did not stop the barbarian;
he ran on a few steps before his hand lost strength and the lance slipped from his fingers. He glanced
down to see the queen's dagger buried up to the hilt in his upper arm.
He stooped to retrieve the lance, and Gwenhwyvar's sword sang through a tight arc and caught him at
the base of the neck. The barbarian pitched onto his face, dead.
'Here I am!' cried Gwenhwyvar, her voice towering with defiance. 'Who is next?' She stood over the
corpse, her sword red with the blood of Arthur's false assailant, shouting daring the Vandali to attack.
Llenlleawg, bristling with menace, took his place beside the queen.
Another of the barbarian chieftains appeared eager to take Gwenhwyvar at her word: he drew his sword
and started forth.Merciaseized him and threw him back. The battlechief staggered up, thrusting the head
of his lance inMercia's face.Merciagrabbed the shaft of the lance and lashed out with a cruel kick,
catching his bellicose comrade on the point of the chin. The chieftain subsided in a heap.
Cai and Bedwyr dashed to Gwenhwyvar's side. The four stood over Arthur, weapons drawn, daring the
enemy to attack. Meanwhile, I ran to Arthur's side.
Merciastepped boldly out from among the others. He called in a loud voice, and summoned Hergest to
him. Together they advanced to where the three Britons stood.
'Help me stand!' groaned Arthur through clenched teeth.
'In a moment,' I told him gently. 'First I must look at your wound.' There was blood everywhere, and
sweat, and dust, and woad.
'Help me stand, Myrddin.' He shrugged away and, using Caledvwlch, raised himself up on his knees; his
injured arm hung down limp and useless. Blood seeped from the wound in a steady dark flow. I helped
him regain his feet and he turned to meet the advancing Vandali.
Mercia, with Hergest beside him, presented himself to the High King. 'LordMerciasays that he
recognizes Arthur to be victor,' Hergest explained. 'He will abide the terms of peace. Do with us what
you will.'
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
With that,Merciathrew the disarmed chieftain's lance to the ground at Cai's feet. He then drew the short
sword from his belt, laid the blade across his palms, and offered it to Arthur, bowing his head in
submission. 'I am slave to you, Lord King,' he said.
The High King motioned to Gwenhwyvar, who took the sword.
'I accept your surrender,' Arthur said through clenched teeth, his voice hollow. To Cai and Bedwyr, he
muttered, 'See to it.'
He made to turn away, stumbled, and would have fallen if not for Llenlleawg's quick reaction. The Irish
champion threw an arm around the king's shoulders and held him up. 'For the love of Jesu, Arthur, sit
down and let me tend you.' [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]