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."If we have to go to the other side," he responded logically, "then the closest way to get there is to march over the top."With that course firmly set before them, Thurgol of Blackleaf and some sixty of his villagemates set out to free the godfather of giantkind.Above them, the peak pierced the sky, its fringes of snowy shoulders beckoning the questing giant-kin with a cool beauty that was altogether unlike the difficult challenge presented by its steep slopes and icy, unceasing winds.* * * * *Shallot spun easily through a circle, allowing Tristan to get a full view of the encircling monsters.He guessed that there must be at least two hundred of the creatures, and the ring that had formed left him no likely gaps through which to escape.Slowly, steadily, they continued in their soundless advance.He wasted no time cursing fate or his own carelessness for this predicament.Instead, his mind clicked through options—he had precious few—and in an instant, he made up his mind.If he waited for them to rush him, the fight could have but one possible outcome.The only option available was an attempt to surprise the beasts with something they might not expect—something such as the target of the trap turning the tables on his ambushers.In the instant of decision, he set his heels into Shallot's flanks, and the war-horse sprang forward like an eager filly, baying hounds coursing at his heels.Tristan rode straight toward the largest troll, the one bearing the massive, serrated blade.The huge troll gaped at him for a moment, stunned by the apparition of this doomed human having the effrontery to charge! But that moment passed quickly, and the creature raised its great sword while several of its fellows raced to its side.In seconds, Tristan bore down full tilt into a knot of six or eight trolls.He felt claws rake his leg at the same time as his sword split one green, knobby skull.The frantic baying of the hounds shrilled as they snarled into the monsters, one of the dogs wailing piteously as a huge troll picked up the hound and twisted it into a broken corpse.From the corner of his eye, Tristan saw another of the great hounds meet a similar fate.He slashed blindly, feeling his blade chop into the tangled bodies of his enemies.One of the trolls screamed, staggering backward with its clawed hands pressed to its face.Shallot pitched and bucked, the stallion's powerful hooves crushing trollish limbs before and behind.The king caught a fleeting image of the huge troll, its jagged blade upraised for a killing blow, but then the horse whirled away and he faced a smaller humanoid.That one lunged for Shallot's neck, but Tristan chopped its hands off with a clean blow.As the creature hissed in horror and hatred, the keen edge of Trollcleaver did the same thing to its head."Here! This way!" shouted a familiar voice.Abruptly, from the ground before Tristan, short blades of flame spumed upward, crackling among the feet of the crouching trolls."Newt!" shouted the king, recognizing the illusionary magic of the faerie dragon.The trolls squawked in dismay, springing out of the region of flame, opening a path for Tristan's flight.But then the huge troll with the sword stepped right into the middle of the illusion, barking something in its bestial tongue.The flames around the creature flickered and grew pale, as Newt's illusion lost its force.The disbelief of the leader proved enough to dispel the magic for the lesser trolls.More claws bit cruelly into the king's hip while the stallion whinnied in pain.Tristan chopped without looking, feeling the blade bite into bony flesh, while at the same time, he bashed the shield on his left arm against a pair of grotesque, black-eyed humanoids bounding toward him from that side.He saw the hulking leader before him again, waiting with a nasty smirk on its teeth-studded jaws.Trolls sprinted toward them from the left and right, and Tristan knew that his first escape attempt had been blocked [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]