Читать книгу Sinbad: Rogue of Mars - John Garavaglia - Страница 37

strikes, glorying in the strength of his muscles, the steely power of his limbs as they whipped and cracked around him. He concentrated every fiber of his being on beating Kasson back, using an entire lifetime of determination to fuel his attack. An electric adrenaline sure drove him to attack again and again, not allowing Kasson a single instant to recover.

Kasson spun away and snarled at Sinbad, defensively swinging his sword up in a spinning strike that should have impaled the outlander through the heart. But Sinbad anticipated the blow even before it came and blocked it with a blindingly fast diagonal slash that almost knocked Kasson’s sword from his hand. Kasson had to duck to avoid being decapitated as Sinbad carried the blow through with a shout. His scimitar struck the side of the arena.

Kasson straightened up behind him, growling. Recovering from Sinbad’s onslaught in seconds, he whirled his sword downwards with inhuman speed, aiming to slice the outlander’s hands from his body.

At the last possible second, Sinbad whipped his blade in a sweeping arc, blocking Kasson’s strike and locking swords with him at close range. For a heartbeat, the pair was face-to-face.

Sinbad’s body thrummed with tension as he struggled to hold off Kasson. His arms were shaking with the effort as he felt the insane strength behind his opponent’s sword. He glared into Kasson’s bloodshot eyes and saw the conviction lurking there, as though he were an insect that had to be crushed.

In an instant, Sinbad realized what that frightening look meant.

This devil dog thought that he was going to win.

Sinbad bared his teeth at Kasson and snarled at him like a wild animal. Then he savagely twisted his sword free with a powerful upward jerk, deliberately slicing open Kasson’s cheek in the process.

JOHN GARAVAGLIA

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