"There is another reason," finished Amrhost, who having overheard came to join them. "And, you are correct, Garnak the Brave. Betrayal is not my motive."
"Perhaps you should make explanation," said Akaru, eyeing the northerner mistrustfully.
Amrhost raised an eyebrow fractionally and drained his flagon with an insolent flourish. "I intend to slay the Evil One."
The others stared their disbelief. At last, Grol harumphed. "You're serious!"
Amrhost didn't deign to reply.
For no apparent reason, her feelings a confused tangle, Julina blurted, "What makes you think you can?" She flinched involuntarily at his returning look, and coloured angrily that he could make her react so.
"There is an ancient legend, as you doubtless well know, that one day, unlooked-for, a champion will come from our very midst and do battle with this Demon King."
"And that champion is you?" Damond sneered derisively.
"I am the greatest swordsman Astargoth has ever known," Amrhost told him with an insolent thrust of his short black beard. "I would wager that none within the Four Kingdoms could best me. It stands to reason that my time is now, when our need is upon us."
"I'd say you're a damned fool," Damond muttered, "but you'd probably cut my throat."