Chapter 419

• The rider, whoever that was, was decked in enough armor he -- probably a he from the shape -- would have killed a normal horse riding it. Full plate, head to toe, and just as ornate as the goort they rode. Bronze and red, with gold lining the edges, and gold embossed skulls all over. They clutched the reins of the mount with gauntlets, and did not move, their classic medieval helmet pointed straight toward the spire. Two silver horns stuck out from the helmet's sides upward, and while David couldn't see the rider's face from the side, the shape of the helmet told him there'd be a T slit for a visor, or maybe just two eye slits like on a great helm.
• So much armor, with enough bulk the rider barely looked human, and could have walked out of some absurd, violent fantasy story. All that was missing was a cape. The rider had two huge axes hooked onto his back, just as ornate as the rest of the armor, with silver blades that had amber lines cutting through them, like veins.
• "Who's the rider?" he asked, and made doubly sure his voice was the quietest whisper possible.