Kalden was drenched in sweat. He struggled to breathe beneath his armor. It was only a light coat of mail made from small metal rings, leaving his joints and arms free to move, but the trail, the savage terrain, and the route they had chosen were entirely unfamiliar to him.
Maynar, following behind, was equally miserable. Sweating, his hair greasy and his feet aching inside boots that did not quite fit, he regretted with every step all the drink he had consumed over the years. A wave of acid rose into his throat, but he fought it down. He steadied himself against a rock and paused to catch his breath.
"By the gods, what have I done to deserve all this? I wish I were back at the temple, spending hours copying false histories."
Darma laughed. The Gargoyle's legs had no difficulty with the trail, though a fire in his belly burned hotter the closer they came. Arsik followed in silence, while Pale merely seemed to smile.
"I envy that man," Maynar said.
"Sirakrat," Pale corrected him.
Kalden pointed ahead. "If this damned trail leads anywhere, I believe it ends there."
The gorge appeared to recede. It formed a rocky ridge, beyond which the path seemed to descend along an easier slope. The wind blew hard, lashing their faces. A ram's skeleton lay a few paces away.
"That's the fifth one we've seen," Maynar observed.
"You're counting them, poet?" Darma asked.
"Not deliberately. But it's strange, isn't it?"
"What is? That animals die?"
"We've found several of them along this trail. Some were even lying on the rocks."
"That's what rams do. Didn't they teach you that at your temple? They live on rocks and die on rocks. It would be strange if we found one in a tavern. Stop talking nonsense and keep moving. I know you're only speaking to buy yourself time."
Maynar flushed with anger.
"Forgive me, Darmakaya, mighty warrior. I had no idea we were in such a hurry to climb this mountain. Until yesterday, you were perfectly content sleeping in taverns and choosing whichever comforts pleased you. The Magister points you in a direction, and suddenly you're a master tracker."
Darma turned toward him.
Even now, the creature's immense frame, powerful muscles, and baleful stare made Maynar shrink back.
"I'm beginning to tire of your whining," he growled.
The sound of galloping hooves interrupted them.
The ground seemed to tremble beneath their feet, the noise echoing between the walls of the gorge.
"A horse!" Kalden shouted.
"There are no horses in the mountains," Maynar said. "Especially in a pass this narrow."
"Wrong again, poet."
A black stallion stood in their path.
It was tethered outside the mouth of a cave. A cloth draped across its back bore an emblem belonging to one of Lothen's castellans. Kalden tried to remember which one, but to no avail.
"Someone came here. This is no ordinary animal. It's a black stallion from Saria. The finest horses in Lothen come from there."
"What man of noble birth spends his time in caves?" Arsik asked.
They approached the horse.
The cavern before them appeared enormous, with two great braziers burning at its entrance. Flames fed by oil burned upon bronze, producing suffocating smoke that merged with the mist surrounding the mountain.
"Suddenly, I can't see," Kalden complained.
He threw his helmet to the ground and rubbed his eyes.
The galloping sounded again—louder and deeper than before.
Yet the horse standing before them had not moved.
The hairs on Arsik's neck rose.
"I don't like this at all."
He did not have time to finish.
An unearthly sound burst from the horse as a pair of horns tore through its belly and lifted it high into the air. Blood poured down in a crimson torrent. The horse was hurled through the air with tremendous force, crashing into Darma before he could react.
The Minotaur lowered his head and allowed the enormous stallion to slide from his horns onto the Gargoyle, crushing him beneath its weight.
Then he turned toward the others.
They stared in horror as the scene unfolded before them, frozen by shock and unable to react.
Argar raised his enormous axe and proudly revealed himself in all his terrible glory.
Massive muscles covered the horned warrior's bronze skin, entwined with thick green veins that flowed across his body like rivers. His eyes burned red as fire, and a thirst for slaughter boiled within his blood.
"Humans!" he roared. "You stand within the kingdom of Argar, and here you will all die."
He pointed toward Darma.
"That corpse was only the beginning."
Beneath the dead horse, two broken wings lay completely still.
The men drew their weapons.
Kalden rushed forward and met the beast with sword and shield. His blade whistled through the air, the measured strike aimed at Argar's belly. Argar turned it aside with tremendous force, catching the blow on the blade of his axe before answering with a swing aimed at the knight's head.
Kalden lacked the strength to absorb such a strike directly. He raised his shield at an angle, forcing the axe to scrape across its surface in a shower of sparks until the blow slid wide.
The knight's footwork was flawless.
Argar's strength was beyond comparison.
Arsik drove his knife into Argar's thigh. Blood began to run slowly from the wound, and his other hand, armed with the iron gauntlet, crashed into the creature's head.
Argar did not even flinch.
He snorted with laughter and struck Arsik across the face with the back of his axe. The blow sent him sprawling unconscious onto the ground.
Pale came next, a faint smile carved across his lips.
His slender blade sang through the air as he launched three swift attacks at the Minotaur. Argar blocked two, but Pale drove the point of his narrow weapon into the creature's belly with astonishing speed.
Argar growled and raised his axe.
The blade flashed beneath the sun.
Then, with the strength of a demigod, he brought it down.
"No!" Kalden shouted.
He thrust his shield forward to protect Pale.
The blow was so violent that the shield buckled inward. Its grip snapped, and Kalden felt his entire left arm go numb.
The axe buried itself in Pale's shoulder.
His collarbone shattered, and he dropped to his knees, covered in blood, yet not a single cry escaped his lips.
With a kick, the Minotaur's hoof sent him crashing onto his back.
Then Argar turned his gaze toward Maynar.
The poet's legs trembled.
A dark stain spread across the front of his trousers.
The creature savored his fear.
Kalden charged again.
With only one working arm, he attacked in a series of diagonal cuts. Argar parried each one while retreating step by step.
The knight had rhythm.
Incredible technique.
After one of Argar's parries, Kalden's sword slipped straight through and sliced open the creature's cheek.
As Argar lost his balance, a second strike severed one of his horns.
For the first time, he screamed in pain.
Rage flared in his eyes.
Kalden struck again, but Argar gave no ground.
The axe rose and began to dance before him, every swing carrying the force of three men.
Kalden parried again and again, but the distance between them kept closing.
One final blow tore the sword from his hands.
It struck the ground, throwing dust into the air.
Argar drove a fist into the knight's face.
Teeth scattered in every direction.
Kalden fell, spitting blood. His ears rang, and his vision blurred.
Still, he saw the axe slowly rise above his neck.
He had no strength left to resist.
So he whispered a prayer.
At that moment, a gray bolt crashed into the Minotaur and hurled him to the ground.
Darma had returned.
He fell upon Argar and began striking him with savage fury.
Claws tore through flesh.
Darma's strength was immense, and for a moment it seemed he might actually kill him.
But once the surprise had passed, Argar began to regain control.
He seized the Gargoyle's arms and locked them in his grip.
Argar forced himself upright, and the two creatures struggled to break the other's hold.
Darma slipped free and landed two punches against the Minotaur, nearly folding him with the pain.
Argar answered with a fist to Darma's face.
The blow twisted his head aside and sent blood and several teeth from his mouth, but he did not falter.
He attacked again.
His claws sank into the creature's chest and ripped a path down to its belly.
Blood poured from the wound.
Argar seized Darma by the throat and drove his remaining horn into his shoulder.
Darma screamed and tried to pull away.
Argar slammed his head into a boulder with such force that the Gargoyle collapsed unconscious to the ground.
Argar staggered back several steps.
He was wounded.
Disoriented.
But more than anything, the rage within him had become an inferno.
Kalden was on his knees.
So was Arsik, though his strength had abandoned him.
He looked into the creature's eyes and understood.
He knew what that rage was.
Death.
Nothing could stop him now.
Kalden forced himself upright and reached for his sword. He tried to draw the creature's attention, but it was useless.
He was not even a challenge anymore.
The end was near.
They had no strength left to fight.
No strength left to run.
And Argar would not stop until the entire trail was soaked in their blood.
Then a terrible scream cut through the air.
They turned.
Pale was standing.
His shoulder was drenched in blood and torn flesh.
But the Sirakrat had taken his knife and driven it deep into his own arm.
The others could scarcely believe what they were seeing.
Even Argar stared in confusion.
The blade moved.
It carved a path through the flesh.
Pale cut into himself so deeply and with such agony that Maynar vomited.
Blood streamed from the wound and spilled onto the earth.
Pale, however, felt no pain.
His arms began to swell.
His pupils shrank.
And Arsik saw another spirit of rage take hold of the Sirakrat.
Argar prepared himself.
Then Pale charged with a war cry.
With terrifying speed, he unleashed attack after attack upon the Minotaur.
The clash was brutal.
Pale began to drive him back, his strength now utterly inhuman.
He broke through Argar's defense and buried his sword in the creature's belly, throwing his full weight behind the strike.
Then he tore the blade free and drove it into Argar's eye.
The sword whistled.
The eye burst.
Argar screamed and raised his axe.
A knife flew from a distance.
It struck the second eye, blinding the monster completely.
Arsik and Kalden rushed in as well, driving blades into the Minotaur's softer flesh.
At last, they forced him to his knees.
Then forward.
Face-first into the ground.
Dead.
The battle was over.