The brief respite he felt only moments ago for having reached his goal was short-lived as the persistent doubts that had plagued him from the mission’s onset resurfaced. A flash of heat surged through his blood as an overwhelming anxiety breached his carefully constructed defenses. Loyalty and honor could only take a man so far. His gut churned like a twisting rope winding back upon itself. A noose. But no, these people would not bother with a noose. He would not even see it coming. One moment he would be alive and breathing and thinking, and then he would cease to exist. The rider did not even consider that he might meet the Maker. There was no glory of an afterlife—not for men like him. Any oath-bound who caught the attention of his liege could not hope for his soul’s redemption. After all, loyalty and honor could take a man only so far.

As his horse plodded closer to the foreboding fortress, his future’s fortunes once again flashed across his mind. How might he be received? Would his success simply go unremarked as a natural expectation of having fulfilled his duty, despite the trials and transgressions he had suffered? Could he dare hope to be congratulated for his courage and unwavering dedication to his liege? He released a soft grunt. About as likely as me ever meeting the Maker, he thought sourly. If they did not kill him here, it was just as likely he would die upon his return to his liege, having fulfilled his duty.

Had his liege finally drawn him into his greatest confidence in assigning him this mission, or was he a loose end, destined to perish in an unfortunate accident? Never did he consider not returning—at least not for more than a breath. If he ran, he would be hunted, and it would not be long before one of them would snuff out his life. The brief days—hours?—of freedom would be filled with terror and dread as he waited for the bleak blackness of the void to consume him. No, running was never an option. Even had there been the slightest chance of success, he could not consider it. He had loyalty and honor, after all.

The lone rider took a deep, shuddering breath, steadying his nerves as he covered the final few paces before the solid iron gate. He pulled his mount to a stop and waited. There was no need to pound or call out his presence. They would have known he was here long before he set eyes on the dark citadel. A clank and groan reverberated through the metal goliath that posed as a door, and then it swung open in eerie silence except for the soft swoosh of air being drawn through the passage as it curled around the monstrous structure.