《蛛后之战(被遗忘的国度系列英文版)》第107章

tenants　of　the　keep　had　petitioned　other　deities　in　private。　Sheets　of　genuine　spiderweb　veiled　the　artwork。
Welverin　said；　〃Look。〃
Pharaun　turned　his　head；　then　caught　his　breath　in　surprise。　Ryld　Argith　had　just　stepped　from　the　mouth　of　a　servants"　passage　midway　up　the　lefthand　wall。
The　weapons　master"s　strides　were　even　and　sure　despite　his　wounded　leg。　He　was　noticeably　thinner；　as　if　his　body　was　burning　fuel　at　a　prodigious　rate；　and　somehow　he"d　recovered　Splitter。
The　soldiers　aimed　their　crossbows。
〃No〃　Pharaun　said。　Not　yet；　anyway。
Ryld　pivoted　toward　the　newers　and　stalked　forward。　His　eyes　were　intent　yet　somehow　empty；　his　face；　expressionless；　and　he　seemed　indifferent　to　the　weapons　leveled　at　his　burly　frame。　One　warrior　muttered　uneasily；　as　if　he"d　mistaken　the　Master　of　MeleeMagthere　for　a　ghost。　Pharaun　knew　better；　he　recognized　a　deep　trance　when　he　saw　one。　Evidently　his　friend　had　utilized　some　esoteric　martial　discipline　to　keep　himself　alive。
〃Ryld　I　knew　you　could　defeat　Houndaer　and　the　rest　of　those　buffoons。　Otherwise　I　never　would　have　left　you。〃
The　he　sounded　thin　even　to　the　liar。
Certainly　it　didn"t　impress　Ryld。　Perhaps　in　his　altered　statue　of　consciousness；　he　hadn"t　even　heard　it　or　recognized　his　fellow　master；　either。　He　just　kept　ing。
〃Wake　up〃　the　wizard　said。　〃It"s　me；　Pharaun；　your　friend。　I　came　back　to　rescue　you。　These　boys　hail　from　House　Freth；　and　they"re　our　allies。〃
Ryld　took　another　gliding　swordsman"s　advance；　still　directly　toward　the　Master　of　Sorcere。
I"m　sorry；　Pharaun　thought；　but　this　time　you　bring　it　on　yourself。　He　drew　breath　to　give　the　order　to　shoot；　and　shapes　surged　through　the　three　tall　arched　doorways　at　the　rear　of　the　dais。
In　the　lead　capered　several　humansized　creatures　wrapped　in　lengths　of　clattering　chain。　They　were　kytons；　malign　spirits　whom　mages　could　summon　and　control。　Behind　the　devils　strode　the　surviving　conspirators；　and　Syrzan　in　its　decaying　robes。
Ryld　wheeled　and　oriented　on　the　conspirators。　The　rogues　shot　a　flight　of　whistling　quarrels；　and　the　Freth　warriors　responded　in　kind。　The　renegades　had　the　advantage　of　their　elevated　platform；　and　the　soldiers；　of　numerical　superiority；　but　neither　volley　dropped　more　than　a　smattering　of　its　targets。　The　batants　were　too　well　armored；　by　metal；　magic；　or　both。
Eager　to　see　if　swords　would　serve　where　the　darts　had　failed；　the　Freth　soldiers　howled　a　battle　cry　and　charged。　Most　of　them；　anyway。　In　his　deep；　booming　voice；　Welverin　ordered　some　of　the　troops　back　outside　to　find　their　way　around　to　the　entrances　the　traitors　had　used　and　attack　them　from　the　rear。　Not　a　bad　idea；　but　Pharaun　thought　the　warriors　had　a　good　chance　of　getting　lost　instead
Whirling　loose　lengths　of　chain；　eight　kytons；　each　a　match　for　a　dozen　ordinary　fighters；　leaped　down　off　the　stage　to　meet　the　oning　foe。　The　rogues　remained　on　the　platform　with　Syrzan；　where　they　started　reloading　their　crossbows　with　the　obvious　intention　of　shooting　down　into　the　melee。
Pharaun　decided　he　wouldn"t　allow　that。　He　levitated　above　his　rades；　thus　obtaining　a　clear　shot　at　the　dais。
He　felt　a　twinge　in　the　center　of　his　forehead；　but　only　for　a　second。　As　he"d　expected；　Syrzan　had　attacked　first　with　a　psionic　thrust；　not　realizing　its　foe　had　warded　himself　against　such　effects　with　apposite　talismans　and　spells。
This　time；　the　Mizzrym　thought；　you"ll　have　to　fight　me　charm　to　charm　and　spell　to　spell。
To　his　surprise；　he　received　an　answer；　a　telepathic　voice　grating　and　buzzing　inside　his　mind。
So　be　it；　mammal；　the　alhoon　said。　Either　way；　I"ll　have　revenge　on　the　wretch　who　condemned　me　to　exile　yet　again。
Even　as　he　attended　to　Syrzan"s　threat；　Pharaun　was　murmuring　an　incantation　and　manipulating　a　little　steel　tube。　A　bright　pellet　of　flame　hurtled　from　the　open　end；　expanding　into　a　skullsized　orb　as　it　flew。　It　smashed　into　one　of　the　renegades　on　the　dais；　rebounded；　and　struck　another。　It　bounced　and　slashed　back　and　forth　across　the　platform；　sowing　a　zigzag　trail　of　sparks　and　afterimage　in　its　wake；　striking　everyone。　Before　it　winked　out　of　existence；　it　killed　a　good　many　of　the　rogues　or　turned　them　into　reeling；　flailing　living　torches；　whom　their　own　allies　had　to　slay　lest　they　ignite　them　as　well。　Syrzan；　however；　was　unaffected。
Below　his　feet；　Pharaun　glimpsed　the　clash　of　stabbing；　cutting　blades　and　spinning　chains。　As　they　flailed　at　their　adversaries；　the　kytons；　who　resembled　oozing；　festering　corpses　within　their　coiled　armor　of　chains；　altered　their　features。　The　devils　had　the　capacity　to　take　on　the　appearance　of　a　deceased　intimate　from　an　enemy"s　past。　Supposedly　svirfneblin　and　their　ilk　found　this　deeply　distressing；　but　it　was　only　slightly　disfiting　to　representatives　of　a　race　that　did　not　love。
Ryld　was　at　the　forefront　of　the　fighting；　sweeping　Splitter　about　with　all　his　accustomed　strength　and　skill。　Pharaun　was　glad　to　see　that　his　friend　was　only　striking　at　the　demons。
Mouth　tentacles　writhing；　bulbous　eyes　glaring；　Syrzan　lifted　its　threefingered　hands　to　conjure。　Around　it；　many　of　the　rogues　who　still　survived　jumped　off　the　dais。　Evidently　they"d　rather　fight　the　Freth　warriors　on　the　floor　than　stand　near　the　alhoon　while　Pharaun　threw　spells　at　it。
The　Master　of　Sorcere　was　surprised　that　so　few　of　the　traitors　simply　tried　to　run　away。　Certainly　loyalty—that　alien　conceit—didn"t　hold　them　there。　They　must　have　known　that　with　their　schemes　thwarted；　their　conspiracy　revealed；　they　were　outlaws；　outcast　from　all　they　coveted　and　cherished。　Perhaps　their　plight　filled　them　with　such　rage　that　they　prized　vengeance　above　survival。
As　Syrzan　wove　magic；　its　dark　elf　counterpart　was　hastily　doing　the　same。　The　lich　finished　first。　A　blaze　of　lightning；　kin　to　those　still　twisting　and　forking　through　the　open　air　outside；　leaped　from　its　parched；　scaling　hand；　crackled　entirely　through　Pharaun"s　torso；　and　burned　a　black　spot　on　the　ceiling。
Pharaun"s　muscles　clenched；　and　his　hair　lifted　away　from　his　head；　but　his　protections　averted　any　real　harm。　Indeed；　the　attack　didn"t　even　disrupt　his　own　conjuring。　On　the　final　word；　he　thrust　out