Читать книгу Sinbad: Rogue of Mars - John Garavaglia - Страница 22

The moktar made its move on a killing stroke to the right. Sinbad quickly dodged the slash and rolled aside. The beast turned around and saw Sinbad getting back to his feet. It stampeded toward the sailor again, but this time Sinbad made his attack. While the moktar jumped over him, Sinbad came at it like a charging bull. His head was down, his scimitar low for the disemboweling thrust. The moktar sprang to meet him, and all the outlander’s strength went into the arm that swung the sword. The outlander moved in a blur of blinding speed. In a whistling arc the great blade flashed through the air and sliced through the monster’s flesh. The blade scratched through the flesh like it was butter. Blood squirted through the large laceration on the moktar’s hind leg, while it let out an awful wail.

The monster was dazed. It limped over to its right side, trying to find some support. But it wouldn’t go down without a fight. Blood was in the moktar’s eyes now. All it wanted was to impale its aggressor on its one good horn. With all its strength and fury, the moktar began its counterstrike.

Sinbad felt his blood freeze as he looked at the horror that seemed to be staring directly into his eyes. Involuntarily he recoiled, while Sinbad thrust his head truculently forward, till his jaws almost tended the surface, growling. It was some sort of threat or defiance in his own native tongue.

Sinbad found an opening and leapt upward into the air to deliver a swift slash to the moktar’s throat. Hot red blood came gushing out and blemished the sands of the arena.

The crowd’s cheering and applause abruptly ceased, and an eerie silence filled the air. It was as if people were trying to figure out whether they’d actually seen what they thought they saw. Not once in Akhdar’s games they have seen a gladiator slay the fearsome moktar. The stillness carried from the first row, to the betting booths, to all the way to Zhar Akhdar’s terrace.

SINBAD: ROGUE OF MARS

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