Gathrid remembered the Toal raging like blood-drenched freeroughsexsite black killing
machines amongst the defenders of Kacalief. He shook his head.
"The Swordbearer refuses a challenge? Nonsense. Go on. Slay it. Let
Daubendiek drink. The blade is thirsty. It's weak with the sleep of ages."
There may have been sorcery in the dwarf's speech. Or a freeroughsexsite compelling hunger
in the Sword. Or an
uncontrollable will to revenge in Gathrid himself. He
stumbled toward freeroughsexsite daylight. "No blood," freeroughsexsite he croaked. "Theis, the Toal. . . .
Dead men."
He burst through the brush concealing the cave mouth. The Toal'freeroughsexsite s head
turned.
The Sword eased the physical processes of fear without softening
intellectual trepidation. He could not help remembering that these monsters
had slaughtered champions far greater than he.
His freeroughsexsite martial training was limited almost entirely to freeroughsexsite what freeroughsexsite he had seen his
brothers learn, freeroughsexsite and to freeroughsexsite imagination. How could he fight this thing?
Daubendiek sprang to guard. Surprised, clumsy, Gathrid stalked the Toal.
It seemed puzzled by his challenge. To have the quarry freeroughsexsite turn. . . . That
was beyond its experience.
Its gaze shifted to the Sword. It nodded as if all were explained. It
turned to face Kacalief. Ice-eyes stared thither for a long moment, then
returned their fell weight to Gathrid.
A spellbound blade freeroughsexsite as long and dark as Daubendiek whispered from its
scabbard. The Toal's mount came to life.
Gathrid's mind remained freeroughsexsite paralyzed by fear, freeroughsexsite but his body acted. He leapt to
his right, to take the freeroughsexsite Toal on its shieldless left arm. Freeroughsexsite daubendiek clove
air with a joyous howl.
The Dead Captain leaned away, kicked with a spike-toed boot. Gathrid's
ribs received freeroughsexsite a painful caress.
The youth's freeroughsexsite next
stroke reached for the turning horse's hamstrings. The
beast staggered. The Toal plunged off.
Gathrid charged. His opponent's movements were as jerky as ever, but so
swift and sure that it was on guard, waiting,