wilbursmith_warlock-第142部分
按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
ound galvanized him； and Trok roared and rushed at Nefer。 He swung blows from every angle with such rapidity that his sword seemed to form an impenetrable wall of shining bronze around him。 Nefer was forced to fall back before the attack until he felt the stone slab on which Mintaka stood pressing into his back。
He could no longer retreat or manoeuvre； and he was forced to pit himself against all Trok's bull…like strength； and trade him blow for blow。 In a contest of this nature； there were few men who could stand against Trok； who never seemed to flag； and he laughed as Nefer managed to turn some of his blows。 'Let us see how long you can stem the tide； boy。 I can go on like this all day； can you？' he asked； without missing a stroke。 Metal clanged and rang on metal； while Trok moved gradually to the right blocking the only way that Nefer might slip out of his clutches。
Trok's strength was like some malignant force of nature。 Nefer felt that he was caught in a great storm wind； as helpless as if he were carried away on a rip…tide of the ocean。 As much as the years of battle training had hardened him； they had not prepared him for this。 He felt his right arm tiring and slowing as he tried to match Trok。
Trok nicked the side of his neck； and then seconds later sliced open his leather corselet and scored him along the ribs。 Nefer knew that his only chance of surviving the storm was to trade his speed and agility against Trok's brute strength； but he was pinned against the rock。 He had to break away。
He caught the next cut high on his blade and deflected it just sufficiently to make an opening through which he could escape； but as he leaped into it he exposed his left flank。 Trok recovered and drove in a low thrust that laid open his thigh just above the tattooed cartouche。 The blood ran down into his sandal and squelched at every pace he took。
The last of Nefer's strength was ebbing away； and Trok swept up his blade and locked it with his own； forcing his guard higher and higher。 Nefer knew that if he attempted to break away he would expose his chest for the killing thrust。 Yet the cut in his thigh had weakened and slowed him still further。 The grin on Trok's face was triumphant。 'Courage； boy！ It is nearly over。 Then you can rest…for ever；' he gloated。
Nefer heard Mintaka shout something； but it made no sense； and he could not afford the distraction。 Gradually Trok forced aside his blade and towered over him； so they came chest to chest； then suddenly he shifted his weight to the left； towards Nefer's wounded leg。 Nefer tried to counter； but his leg gave way under him。 Trok hooked his foot behind Nefer's heel and threw him over backwards。
The sword flew from Nefer's weakened grip； and as he sprawled on the sunbaked earth； Trok lifted his blade above his head with both hands for the killing stroke。 He was poised like that when suddenly his expression changed to one of surprise and bewilderment。 Without pleting the blow he reached up behind his own neck with one hand。 He brought the hand back and held it before his face。 It was wet with his blood。 He opened his mouth to say something； but a double stream of bright blood trickled from the corners of his mouth and he turned slowly away from Nefer。 Trok stared up at Mintaka who stood on the pinnacle of the rock above him。 With a detached feeling of disbelief； Nefer saw the shaft of the javelin sticking out of the back of Trok's neck。
As she saw Nefer go down； Mintaka had snatched up the javelin that lay at her feet； the weapon that Nefer had thrown at the start of the engagement。 She hurled it at Trok's back。 The point took Trok beneath the rim of his bronze helmet and went in deeply； just missing the spinal column； but opening the carotid artery。
Standing like a gargoyle with his mouth wide open； blood spewing out in a fountain； Trok dropped his sword and reached up。 He seized Mintaka around the waist and dragged her screaming from her perch above him。 He was trying to say something； but the sheets of blood pouring from his mouth drowned his voice。
Mintaka screamed as he crushed her to his chest； and Nefer scrambled to his feet。 He picked up Trok's sword from where he had dropped it； and limped up behind him。
Mintaka's cries had given renewed strength to his sword arm。 He sent his first thrust through the lacings of Trok's corselet； deeply into his back。 Trok stiffened； and dropped Mintaka。 She scrambled away； and Nefer pulled out the blade and stabbed again。 Swaying on his feet； Trok turned slowly to face him。 He took a step towards Nefer； reaching out for him with bloody mailed hands。 Nefer stabbed him in the throat； and Trok dropped to his knees； clutching at the blade。 Nefer pulled it away； slicing deeply into Trok's fingers and palms； severing the sinews and nerves。
Trok toppled forward on his face； and Nefer stabbed him through the lacing； between his shoulder…blades to his heart。 He left the blade in him； and turned to Mintaka who crouched in the shelter of the rock。 She flew to him； and clung to him with all her strength。 Now that the danger was past； Mintaka lost all her icy control and she was sobbing； barely coherently； 'I thought he was going to kill you； my love。'
'He almost did； but for you；' Nefer gasped。 'I owe you a life。'
'It was terrible。' Mintaka's voice quavered。 'I thought he would never die。'
'He was a god。' Nefer tried to laugh but it came out wrongly。 'They take a little killing。'
He became aware that the sounds of battle from further down the valley had changed。 With his arm still around her； he turned to look back。 Trok's men had seen their pharaoh cut down； and the fight had gone out of them。 They were throwing down their weapons； and wailing； 'Enough！ Enough！ We yield。 All praise to Pharaoh Nefer Seti； the one true king。'
With the realization of victory； Nefer felt the last vestiges of strength flow out of his battered and bleeding body。 He had just enough left to raise his voice； and shout； 'Give them quarter。 They are our brother Egyptians。 Give them quarter！'
As Nefer slumped down； Taita materialized at his side and helped Mintaka lower him to the ground。 While the two of them dressed his wounds； and staunched the bleeding from the deep cut in his thigh； his officers came to report to Nefer。
Nefer discounted his own injuries as he demanded to know who had survived the battle and who had been wounded and killed。 With joy； and thanks to Horus and the Red God； Nefer saw that his trusted captains； Hilto； Shabako and Socco； were among the men who crowded around him； exulting in the victory； proud of themselves and their men； filled with joy to see him alive。
They made a litter of lances and carried him back down the valley to Gallala； but it was a long journey for Trok's captured officers； and men crowded the roadside； kneeling unarmed and bare…headed to plead for his mercy； shouting repentance and remorse that they had ever taken up arms against the true Pharaoh。
Three times before they reached the gates of the city； Nefer signalled for his litter to be lowered and allowed the captured centurions and captains to e forward and kiss his feet。 'I spare you from the traitor's death you so richly deserve；' he told them sternly； 'but you are all reduced to the rank of sergeants of the Blue； and you must prove once more your duty and loyalty to the House of Tamose。'
They praised him for his mercy； but Nefer frowned and shook his head when they addressed him as a god。 'I am not one of the pantheon； as the blasphemers Trok and Naja claim they are。' But they would not be dissuaded； and renewed their praises and entreaties； and his own men led by his brother warriors of the Red Road； joined their voices to those of the defeated； begging him to declare his divinity。
To distract them Nefer issued his orders with a frowning mien。 'The corpse of Trok Uruk； the false claimant to the double crown of this very Egypt； shall be burned without ceremony； here upon the battlefield so； that his soul shall wander through all eternity seeki
