The cavern rang with the deafening, rhythmic clang of iron meeting steel.
Garf planted his boots firmly in the rubble, taking another vicious flurry of dagger strikes against his heavily dented shield.
He grunted, violently shoving the attacker back with a surge of raw strength, and spat a thick wad of blood onto the dusty stone floor.
"Dammit," Garf rumbled, his chest heaving as he tightened his grip on his war axe. "These rascals are fast."
Off to the side, crumpled against the jagged cavern wall, lay two of the cloaked figures, one completely motionless with a feathered shaft buried in his throat, the other clutching a shattered knee and groaning in the dirt.
But the remaining two assassins were a blur of lethal, coordinated motion, weaving around Garf's defenses like smoke.
Cowering just behind the safety of Garf's massive frame, Tessa trembled violently.
