The Sorcerer's Vengeance: Book 4 of the Sorcerer's Path by Brock Deskins Read Free Book Online Page B

yards behind him. Farley and Derran were also slogging towards the sled, knowing that they had nowhere near enough time to crank the windlass on the heavy crossbow before the bear ripped Toron and Ruben to shreds. It took less than a second for the three men to realize that they would not reach the sled and the spears it carried until after the bear had gotten to their comrades.
    Toron had been pulling the sled by a ten-foot length of rope attached to its front end when the massive white creature burst over the top the rise to their left. Knowing he had no time to grab one of the pikes from the sled, get in front of the bear, and set himself before it was on top of Ruben, he swung his trusty battle axe off his broad back and charged at the ice bear’s flank with a mighty roar of his own. The minotaur and the bear’s charge intersected at a point less than ten feet from where Ruben was fumbling at one of pikes that lay atop the sledge.
    The gleaming head of the double-bladed axe hissed as it cut through the air and raised a spray bright red blood, made even more pronounced by the infinite whiteness of the bear’s hide and the surrounding countryside, as Toron’s axe cut deeply into the bear’s muscled chest and shoulder.
    Despite the grievous wound and the powerful intensity of the minotaur’s strike, the mighty ice bear managed to swing a paw bigger than a man’s head at the creature that interfered with its kill. The huge mitt with its five dagger-like claws raked Toron across his shoulder, gouging deep furrows through the thick jacket and his own tough hide without breaking its stride towards the human that was desperately trying to bring his own weapon to the ready.
    Less than a couple of yards and two seconds separated Ruben and the charging ice bear. He turned towards the massive animal in time to see the big minotaur cut deeply into the bear’s chest before the massive animal spun him to the ground with powerful blow from its paw that likely would have killed or at least crippled a human.
    Death flashed before his eyes in the form of a huge mouth that opened far enough to swallow his head and part of his shoulders whole. Ruben barely got the butt of the pike set onto the flat, wooden square of his snowshoe when all fifteen hundred pounds of the bear slammed into him and bore him to the ground. Fire erupted across his chest as the lethal claws tore through his thick fur coat and several layers of sturdy clothing, slicing through his flesh and muscle as if it were paper.
    Blood sprayed his face as the bear roared its defiance and snapped at his head, its fangs protruding from black gums a full two inches. The only thing that saved his skull from being crushed like an eggshell and his brain pierced by the ivory daggers was that the awesome weight of the bear had shoved his entire torso two or three feet under the loose snow. Despite his gruesome wound, fear and the instinct for survival made him lash out, shoving the big head to the side, gouging at its eyes with his thumbs, and using his strong arms to keep the bear’s fangs from getting a grip on his head or throat.
    The fetid stench of carrion on the ice bear’s breath was enough to choke him, but the oarsman hardly noticed, so involved was he in keeping himself alive long enough for one of his mates to kill the creature. He just prayed it would be within the next two to three seconds, figuring that was about how long he had before the bear tired of the game and tore his head from his shoulders like a child popping the head off an immature dandelion.
    Ruben could see nothing beyond the flashing ivory fangs and huge gaping maw of the ice bear, but he heard Toron’s roar of rage even over the behemoth’s guttural growls of fury just before it crashed down on top of him, the snow bank supporting enough of its dead weight to keep from crushing what little life he had left in him.
     
    Toron rolled with the mighty slap of the ice bear’s huge paw, felt his flesh