The Last of the Thirteen by John Defilippis

Author:John Defilippis [Defilippis, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: epic fantasy
ISBN: 9781941408643
Amazon: 1941408648
Goodreads: 25538422
Publisher: Crossroad Press
Published: 2015-05-12T22:00:00+00:00

Part III

Chapter Fourteen

Slowly Tarsus wandered down the path inside the Caurio’s lair, now even more cautiously than before given the creature’s surprise attack that cost him his bow and his torch. He continued to lead with his left hand and clutched his sword tightly with his right, wary of the possibility that the huge panther might emerge out of the darkness and swipe it from his hands. Tarsus felt that he was closing in on the animal and could have sworn he heard it breathing as it lay in wait. But then the grim flashbacks that had previously brought his progress to a halt surfaced again, and this time they were even more powerful than before.

In his mind, Tarsus saw Cantos getting speared on the field behind Mavinor’s palace as the scribe stepped in to save Sceptrus from certain death. He saw a fallen Og finished by Grodus’ mace, and Sceptrus stabbed in the back by Cidivus. He looked down upon Pugius as Sicarius ordered his men to butcher the brave warrior with his own daggers. He even stood by and watched as his former general dealt lethal blows to Ferox and Silex. Sicarius showed them no mercy as he brought his sword down upon the noble brothers who had served Mavinor with loyalty, grace, and prowess.

When Silex took his last breath, Tarsus turned away and shook his head in disdain. “Why?” he asked himself as he noticed the corpses littering the battlefield. “Why did I agree to be part of this? What have I done?” Just then the vision dissipated, and after hearing a roar Tarsus felt the impact of a mighty force slamming into him and knocking him to the ground. Unlike his last encounter with the Caurio, Tarsus failed to recover in time to thwart the attack. The monster had apparently learned from its mistake in pouncing too early the first time around, and by patiently waiting for just the right moment it didn’t allow Tarsus an opportunity to come out of his fog.

As he lay on his back, Tarsus felt the weight of the creature standing over him, his body securely pinned beneath its powerful forelegs. Instinctively he thrust his right arm upward in an attempt to lash out with the sword he had managed to clasp even as his body crashed to the floor of the cavern. It was a sheer act of desperation, but it seemed to be his only hope of freeing himself from the beast’s clutches. His hand had barely moved an inch when the Caurio used its left foreleg to press down on Tarsus’ forearm and pin it against the ground. With his dominant hand completely immobilized, Ignatus’ would-be savior was entirely at the panther’s mercy and knew that he was in deep trouble.

For a long moment nothing happened. It was as if the creature was staring down at him, contemplating its conquest and taking time to admire its accomplishment. It was still pitch black in the passage, but gradually a

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