The man's grin was a mockery, for his eyes displayed no mirth. "A quest that turned quickly disastrous, I'm afraid. My men were fortunate to be killed quickly. Not I. I was taken and altered in ways unimaginable. Now I serve the needs of my masters. Now I am known as Yanus."
A spasm flickered across Dradyn's face. "Deis have mercy, for we are all dead men."
Yanus' companions had dismounted as well. They casually approached the Huntsmen, whose horses reared and rolled their eyes in terror.
"Know this, Huntsmen. These men with me are the Gifted. Their lace cloaks allow them to move in the sunlight. We have all come to this moment for one purpose — to assure your deaths. I have heard you are the most skilled Huntsmen we have seen in an Age." Yanus' lip curled. "I'm not impressed. All I see are ducklings waiting for their feathers to be plucked."
Rhanu and Han moved in unison, drawing arrows to their cheeks and loosing. The silver tips whistled across the short distance. Yanus grunted and staggered back when they struck him directly in the chest.
They stared in disbelief when he straightened and calmly ripped the arrows from his torso with a mocking smile. "There is a man among you I will kill first. There is also a woman I shall take with me. But which of you are they?"
He advanced further, walking across the snow as if the drifts were made of stone. "Step forward, if you are no coward, Reaver. Will you show me your true form and make it worthwhile to slay you? Or is it true — are you trapped in that weak and pathetic form until you call upon your Night Mare?" Yanus' gaze searched. "I understand your steed can only manifest at night. That would make you astonishingly vulnerable at the moment, wouldn't you agree?"
Marcellus leaped from his frightened horse. "I am the one you're looking for." He unsheathed his sword. "If you wish to meet death then I will grant it to you. But this battle is between us, wraith."
Yanus let his odji companions do the laughing for him.
Rhanu growled. "Enough!"
He snatched his wakiza from the saddle and leaped off his fearful mount. His strides tore through the snowdrifts. Yanus stood in a relaxed pose, waiting with arrogant confidence. Just when Rhanu seemed poised to strike, he ducked instead. The arrow Han fired at that exact second ripped into Yanus' chest. As he staggered, Rhanu rose and struck with a vicious swipe of his blade.
Yanus fell back, clutching his face as blood dripped through his fingers. His black cloak ripped and was snatched away by the wind. Underneath was dull black plate armor that overlapped like scales. It was barely scratched. A baleful light glimmered in his eyes when he slowly lowered his hands. The cut that nearly tore his face in half knitted by itself, becoming just a fading red line even as Rhanu stared.
Yanus' voice grew guttural. "You've seen the man. Now, look upon your death."
He roared and shook his head so violently it blurred. His bellow buffeted them like the wind as he swelled in size, towering over even Fregeror by head and shoulders in an instant. Antlers stark as dead tree limbs protruded from his head like ghastly fingers. His long white hair concealed his face as his chest heaved, exhaling clouds of vapor from his ragged breaths.
Then the wind parted the locks to reveal the monster.
His brow was a misshapen lump, overhanging the embers that smoldered in the sunken sockets. His pasty skin stretched tight across jutting cheekbones. His mouth opened, all jutting gums and protruding fangs, his black tongue flicked like a serpent's.
"None who have seen this face have lived. You will be no different." He turned to his companions. "Kill the men. Capture the women. One of them has something my Master desires."
The white-cloaked trio immediately attacked in a flurry of thrusts and strikes. The air resounded with the clash of blades. The odji had no trouble negotiating the deep snow, while the Huntsmen floundered as they tried to defend themselves.
A wan golden blush spread as the Shama held up her crystal staff and said something that was snatched by the wind. But the sky rumbled in response, and lighting flickered among the group of odji. Thunder clapped less than a second later, deafening in its roar. Snow exploded in the air as the odji scattered.
Rhanu focused on the larger threat, attacking as fast as he could. His wakiza whirred but struck nothing but air. Yanus was just a blur; his movements so fast they hummed. When he stopped, a long black dagger was in his clawed hand. The edge was stained red.
It was only when the blood spurted from a number of deep gashes that Rhanu realized what had happened. He fell to his knees, watching incomprehensibly as the crimson blots spread in the snow. Agony flared in fiery jolts from the grievous wounds.
With slow deliberation, Yanus sheathed the dagger and drew the long sword that hung across his back. Rhanu could do nothing but snarl in defiance as the blade raised.
Marcellus appeared from nowhere. His sword clashed with a resounding toll that jolted the snow down from the nearby trees. He pressed the offensive with a flurry of stabs and thrusts. Marcellus moved faster than any man Rhanu had seen, even faster than Han. But it was clear Yanus toyed with him. The creature laughed while nimbly avoiding the attacks, one with the wind and as touchable. Marcellus relied on every ounce of skill he possessed to stay alive, though it looked as though it would not be for long.
Rhanu used his wakiza as a crutch and raised himself painfully, ignoring the blood that steamed as it spattered in the snow. With his free hand, he unsheathed the khopesh at his side. The sickle-shaped blade was honed to razor sharpness, glinting in the dull light.
Han battled one of the odji with Meshella, but his eyes were locked on Rhanu.
"Hang on, Rhanu!"
Meshella dropped and hacked the legs of the odji. As it fell, Han sailed upwards. His sword flashed as it sliced the head cleanly off the shoulders. Glowing flame spouted from the neck and ate the body as he leaped away and ran to Rhanu's aid. Meshella turned to help Fregeror, who had lost his ax. He crushed one of the odji in a smothering bear hug, roaring as it sank a dagger in his side.
Several of the Huntsmen had already fallen, and the third akhkharu confidently faced Shiru and the remaining Huntsmen, running atop the snow like a bird while they sank in the drifts. Fregeror slung his foe away, but before Meshella could reach him, the wraith cut down two more Huntsmen. They fell like scarecrows in a strong wind.
Han's intervention was the only thing that saved Marcellus. Han was a whirlwind, hurling stars and daggers long enough to distract Yanus. Han and Marcellus coordinated their attacks to flank the towering creature, whose answer was a mocking laugh.
Han unsheathed the sword on his back.
It was the first time Rhanu had the blade drawn. Chiyou — the Honor Sword given to Han by his father. The blade was nearly transparent, as if made of frosted glass. The staff Nyori carried was the only thing to compare it to.
Rhanu expected Chiyou to shatter when it struck Yanus' longsword, but it pushed Yanus back with a brilliant flash of bluish light. Yanus tottered off balance for a mere second, and Han pressed his advantage.
Yet Yanus' speed was lightning, and his lethal skill caused the balance to shift again. While they felt the effort of fighting in the snow, he seemed indefatigable. The whirling swings of his longsword drove both men back as he howled with insane laughter.
With his attention diverted, Yanus never saw Rhanu stumble toward him.
Rhanu roared as he sprang and thrust with all his remaining strength. He felt the impact as the khopesh penetrated both armor and flesh.