“But my orders cannot be ignored. Discipline must be maintained.” She glared at the half-orc. “Whatever happens, do not scream. Your life depends on it. Prove yourself worthy.”
The half-orc swallowed and nodded.
Jarla flicked the dagger down.
Thunk!
The blade pierced the half-orc’s foot.
The half-orc squeezed his eyes shut. He bit his lip, and his shoulders tremored.
Jarla nodded.
Jubilee stomped on the dagger in his foot.
The half orc screamed. “Yeeooow!”
Jarla’s longsword scraped out of her sheath. She stabbed the orc through the heart.
Glitch.
***
On foot, Fogle walked behind the slow-moving caravan of brigands weaving its way through the great forest. Most of the men were on foot and traveling with light packs on their backs. A handful of others were on horseback. He traveled in the rear.
A couple of brigands were nearby. They were always nearby.
Glancing ahead, Fogle tripped over a root sticking out of the ground. His head clonked off a nearby tree. Wrists bound in front of him, he pushed himself up to his feet and cursed.
“Having trouble with your feet?”
Fogle looked up.
Jarla sat tall in the saddle of her horse, Nightmare. Her hair was in long braids.
He wasn’t sure which one scared him more: her or the horse. The dapple-gray mount had wild fire in its big eyes. He dusted himself off the best he could. “No, I’m having trouble with my hands.”
“That’s too bad, but at least you have them, wizard.”
“How is Brak doing? I haven’t seen him in days.”
“He is no concern of yours.”
Nightmare nickered and snorted.
“And Jubilee? I understand there was some activity today.” He scratched his cheek. “You’ll have to forgive me, but my isolation doesn’t leave me privy to all the gossip.”
“She still lives is all you need to know, but she is becoming a bit of a distraction.” Jarla leaned over in the saddle. The chainmail shirt she wore fell open, revealing a glance at her chest. “My brigands can only handle so many distractions.”
“I can see that,” Fogle said. He eased closer to her. “I marvel you can keep so many in order. You’re an incredible … leader.”
“Are you being coy with me, wizard?”
“I’m only admiring you. Clearly you are cut from a different cloth. I can see it in your face. Those high cheekbones. Your prominent chin.” He made his way to the side of her horse and stared up into her eyes. “I find you fascinating, yet I’m disappointed you have chosen to take up with my colleague.” He palmed his chest. “It saddens the heart.”
She showed a faint smile. “More like the groin.”
“I’m not without my passions, and they are only amplified in the presence of one such as you.” He sighed.
Jarla huffed a laugh. “I’m astounded you’d try to seduce me.”
“I’m only trying to establish a trust in your audience by being honest. My time with you is so brief I need to make the most of it when I’m with you.” He cleared his throat. “And seeing how every moment more that I stay in your company poses more peril to my life, I say why the Bish not.”
“Are your hands as good as your tongue?”
Brows lifted, he replied, “I like to think they are even better.”
“Good to know.” She motioned to her guards. “Gag him.”
CHAPTER 4
Venir sat on a padded leather chair. He was in a common room where dwarves passed from time to time. A fire burned in a stone fireplace nearby. The mystic sack, made of worn leather and stitched up all over, lay folded in his lap. He rubbed the fabric between his thumb and fingers and stared into the fire.
“It’s been long since we’ve seen the daylight,” said a voice nearby.
In a similar chair adjacent to Venir sat Billip. He had a jug of wine on his lap, and his eyes were closed. “I don’t know how the dwarves go without sunlight so long. Or where the smoke of those fires goes.”
Nikkel sat in a chair beside Billip. The young man leaned forward. “I like the accommodations. Especially the strange women. Those stubby fingers are magical. I’d hate to leave.” He flicked into the fire a stick he’d been whittling on. “But I miss those blazing suns above.”
Venir’s hand missing the two lower fingers trembled. He shifted in his chair and smoothed his hands over the sack. Inside should be his weapons and armament, but he hadn’t taken them out since he arrived. And Trinos was gone, inside the sack. It didn’t make sense to him at all, and he wasn’t in any mood for surprises the next time he opened it. He laid the sack on the armrest and leaned his elbow on top of it. “I’ve had about all the hospitality I can stand. I’m ready to get back out there.”
Billip took a swig from his red clay jug. “It’s a shame we cannot take longer advantage of it. A lifetime’s worth.”
“It wouldn’t be so bad if they gave us something to do,” Nikkel said.
“We are guests in Mood’s kingdom,” said Venir, “but we won’t be guests forever. Something’s brewing. I can feel it.”
No one answered him. The fire crackled. Somewhere, works of iron turned, and there was always the sound of hammers on metal. It was a steady rhythm, like a steady rain, soothing sometimes and other times stimulating.
Venir took in a deep draw of air through his nose. His chest expanded. He hadn’t felt so good in years. Perhaps decades. He sat up in his chair. “I believe I’ve lost all track of time. How long have we been in here?”
“I’d say a month,” Mikkel replied.
“I think a year,” Billip said. He set the jug down. “Perhaps it’s time you searched Mood out.”
“They have customs here we are strangers to. Clearly they don’t like questions.” Venir stood, grabbed the sack, and slung it over his shoulder. “I’m going to take a walk, toward the top. Anyone coming?”
“I tried a week ago, and the dwarves barred my passage,” Billip said. “One of them threatened to stick his hand axe up my arse.”
Nikkel laughed. “He sure did. Oh, the look on your face.”
“Shaddup.” Billip got up. “Well, I suppose it’s time to greet them again. He can’t shove the axe up all our arses.”
Venir chuckled. “Let’s go.”
***
Melegal slid out from under the bed linens, donned his clothing, and headed toward the exit of the dwarven bungalow. It was an odd establishment, a small building of wood sitting inside the rocky cavern like a home on the prairie. He liked it. It was comfortable and without the hazardous elements. There wasn’t any foul weather, or rodents, carrion-eating birds, or insects to deal with. He grabbed the knob on the door.
A shock went right to his bones.
Zzzt!
“Gah!” He shook his tingling hand.
Jasper sat up in the bed. “Sneaking out to see your female fiend?”
He looked at his red hand and back at Jasper. “You sneaky little witch.”
“Me? You’re the one who wants to go cavorting with underlings.” She leaned over the other side of the bed and grabbed a dark cotton shirt and slipped it over her bare body. “Wherever you go, I go from now on.”
“You’re getting ridiculous.” He touched the knob with the tip of his finger. The shock was gone. He didn’t make any further efforts to shake Jasper, though, knowing that would only make matters worse.
This is getting old.
“If you’re coming, then please come. But I’m going to check on this matter.”
“No, we are going to check on this matter.” Jasper tugged on her boots and combed her fingers through her black hair. “I’m a bit ashamed of you, meddling with underlings.”
“If she was such a threat, I’m certain the dwarves would have killed her. They are keeping her around for some reason, and I want to know what.” He pulled the door open. “Let’s go, littl
e lady.”
Jasper crossed the threshold and came to a stop, marveling at the scene above.
The rocks were painted over with a beautiful skyline that looked as real as any they had seen outside. A sun hung with its own mystic light, and in the evening it transformed into a moon. There were more bungalows too, and dwarves walking the roads between them. It was just like the outside world, but within the caves.
“How do they do it?”
“Why, is what I wonder.” Melegal took her by the hand. “Shall we take a walk through the painted meadows?”
“Lead the way. After all this time, I still can’t find my way around this place as well as I would wish. Everything looks the same, but then it’s different.” She squeezed his hand. “I never knew dwarves had so much imagination.”
Glancing up at the dawn-colored ceiling, Melegal said, “Agreed.”
It took thirty minutes to get back to the room that hosted Elypsa. Melegal shoved the door open and led Jasper inside. The coals were dimming in the fireplace. Elypsa’s bed was empty, and the dwarvess caretakers were nowhere to be found.
Something scraped over the floor.
Melegal’s neck hairs stood on end. He shielded Jasper behind him and drew a knife.
“What’s wrong?” she said.
“Be silent.”
Towing the woman behind him, Melegal crept through the room. He glanced into the pewter tub. Two dwarvesses were submerged in the water. Their squat and lifeless bodies were shriveled up like prunes. His skin crawled.
Jasper’s fingers tightened on his. Her voiced trembled. “W-What happened to them?”
A scuffle caught Melegal’s ear. He spun around with his dagger ready.
Elypsa was crawling across the floor. Her face was swollen and bleeding. “Not me,” she said. “Not me.” She passed out.
CHAPTER 5
“What do you see, Brak?” Jarla rode up beside him.
Brak sat atop his mount, looking through a spyglass. There was nothing but miles of tall grasses ahead. He lowered the spyglass from his eye. “Grass.”
“Unlike your father, you’ve a bridled tongue. Sometimes I like that, but most of the time I don’t.” She snapped her reins. “Ride with me. Talk with me.”
With a squeeze of his knees, Brak launched his horse forward through the belly-deep grass. “You know I’m not much for talking.”
“I’m sure you have some stories to tell. So tell me. Your father was full of stories. Full of slat too.”
Brak didn’t care for the way Jarla kept bringing Venir up. It wasn’t that he didn’t like to hear about his father, quite the contrary. He just had the feeling Jarla was gloating about it. Lording something over his head and reveling in their strange relationship. He wasn’t as old as he seemed, but she didn’t understand that. Or she ignored it.
“Speak up, Brak. My patience thins.” She gave him a threatening glance. “I’ve shared all with you, and I believe you should share all with me. I have to trust you if you are to be my commander.”
Brak glanced at the leather bracer strapped to his arm. It had an insignia of a sword and arrow branded on it. It had previously been worn by Gondoon Stoneskin. “I didn’t ask for this.”
“No,” she said with excitement. “But you usurped it! Gondoon was crushed by your own hands. These men, they fear you. There is great power in that. Learn to use it!”
Brak pulled his shoulders back a bit, sat taller in the saddle, and nodded.
Looking up at him, Jarla said, “You are a fine specimen. I can teach you much. Just be more willing.”
“I would be more willing if I had some time with my friends,” he said to her.
“You lazy-eyed fool. You need to break those attachments. Friends are weaknesses in this world. Look at me. I don’t have any friends, and I roam around doing whatever I want, whenever I want. Nothing holds me back.”
Eyes on her, he said, “It sounds lonely.”
“You can’t trust anybody, Brak. They’ll always let you down.”
He nodded. “I understand.”
“Good. Then tell me a story, Brak. You did not get to be what you are without some trials. I want to know more.” She rode her horse over to his. “And perhaps I’ll let you speak to your friends. Perhaps I’ll give you something else.”
“Perhaps.”
They rode on.
Ahead, brigand scouts on foot snaked through the grasses. Behind them, brigands followed in two columns. Large mules carried Jarla’s tent and other heavy packs on their backs. Brak spied Jubilee trudging through the grass, head down, with a pack over her shoulder. He missed her.
“Well, it’s a long ride,” Jarla said. “Are you going to spin a savory story or not?”
“I’m thinking.”
“You’re stalling.”
“I’ve never told a story before.” This was true, but he’d heard many stories―from Venir, Billip, and Mikkel―but none of them had a knack for it like Venir. Brak hadn’t really ever thought about sharing one. The best stories he’d heard were the ones told about his own feats while he was berserk. Most of the time they scared him. He did horrible things. “I suppose I can try.”
“Something simple might be enough to please me.”
Nothing would please you.
Brak’s concern was Fogle and Jubilee. He had to protect them, even if it meant him doing something he didn’t want to do. Jarla was right. Having friends was a weakness. But friends made life worth living. “As I understand it, my friends, well, I’ve almost killed all of them. Even the wizard.”
Jarla perked up. “Oh? Tell me more.”
Brak took a deep breath. “We were in the tower in the City of Three, trying to rescue Kam…”
***
Jarla pulled her horse to a halt. The breeze stopped bending the grasses. The scouts up ahead were gone. She scanned the horizon on all sides. Something moved in the meadow, flanking them from the left to the right.
“What is that?” Brak said.
“Be silent,” she whispered, drawing her sword.
Underlings popped up by the dozens and charged right for them.
Chitter! Chitter! Chitter!
Sword high in the air, she circled it around. “Ride behind me! Ride, brigands! Ride!”
CHAPTER 6
Dwarves by the thousands. It was the biggest army Venir had ever seen. The dwarven army stood in rank and file in the Outlands above Dwarven Hole. He stood alongside Mood in a high rocky place. The neatly organized ranks were lined up in boxes before him. There were several battalions defined by different banners. Red-colored banners showed the dwarves with axes. Purple and green banners were the spearmen. Black and white were the colors the dwarves in full plate armor carried along with their pickaxes and hammers.
“So many in one place,” Venir said to Mood. A stiff breeze blew his hair in his eyes. He pushed it away. “Is this every dwarf from Dwarven Hole?”
“Just about,” Mood said, puffing on a cigar. He pushed his sleeves up over his thick, corded forearms. “They needed some air.”
Venir took in a breath. The hot suns on his back felt invigorating. Being inside the odd comforts of Dwarven Hole had been nice, everything provided for. But he needed to roam the Outlands.
He scanned the ranks. In the far rear of the army were small siege machines. By the looks of them, they were catapults. There was another battalion of dwarves on horseback too, at least five hundred, if he were to guess. Their lances pointed toward the sky. Another host of a hundred stout dwarves carried battering rams with bearded faces carved in front.
A horn sounded, deep and loud.
All at once, the dwarven ranks pumped their fists into the sky and saluted Mood.
He saluted back and spoke in a voice of thunder that carried with a life of its own. “Our time has come to defend the Outlands once again, for a plague is upon us. Not just upon us dwarves, but upon the entire world of Bish. Our enemies are many. Our enemies are without mercy. Our enemies are th
e underlings―and all who would aid them. We will crush them, or we will die. Dwarves, are you with me?”
“Aye! Aye! Aye!” the army responded.
“And I am with you!” Mood nodded.
A horn sounded again. Together, the dwarves all pivoted on their heels and turned away. The horn blared again, and they began marching southeast.
The ground stirred under Venir’s feet. The thump of boots and stomp of hooves sent a fire right through him. “I’m ready,” he said to Mood. “Where exactly is this army headed? If I were to guess the direction, I would say toward Bone.”
“Aye,” Mood said, slapping Venir’s back. “And there’s going to be plenty of trouble when we get there. I hope you’re ready to lead it.”
Taken aback, Venir said, “Me? I’m no dwarf.”
Mood faced him, squeezed his shoulders, and said, “No, that’s for certain, but there’s going to be more than just dwarves in this army. The jung are coming, the striders, and some renegade Royal soldiers. They’ll need a leader.”
“I’ve never led an army before.”
“That’s because you’re a one-man army. I suppose with you in the get-up we’ll have at least two armies. Those underlings are in for a reckoning.”
Venir nodded his square head. “No, it will be worse than that.”
A dwarven emissary approached Mood and took a knee. He held up a small rolled parchment.
Mood took it in hand, unrolled it, and read. His bushy red brows buckled, and he snorted. “We’ve got trouble. Come with me.”
***
Melegal ground his teeth. His hands were shackled behind his back. His feet were chained to the tub. He was still inside the room where he’d found the dead dwarvesses.
Jasper had gone for help, and he’d been keeping an eye on Elypsa. The dwarves had come quickly, brown-bearded guardsmen in padded leather armor carrying short heavy-bladed swords. Upon seeing two of their own dead, they had blocked the exit and secured all three non-dwarves.
Jasper sat on the floor with her knees pulled to her chest.
The Darkslayer: Bish and Bone Series Collector's Edition (Books 1-10): Sword and Sorcery Masterpieces Page 72