“You’ve never fought my kind,” the vicious said.
“You speak well for a monster,” Venir said, eying the vicious.
“I am not a monster. I am an underling in this glorious body. I am the one who cannot be killed. I am Sornay the Infallible.”
“We’ll see.” Venir advanced hard and fast. He delivered quick and lethal strikes.
A true sword saint, Sornay parried and backpedaled. “You are fast. Very fast.”
Jaw set, Venir revamped his efforts, trying to wear the monstrosity down. He let Helm feed him. Fuel his hatred for the black fiends. His chops came heavier and faster.
With two hands on his blade, Sornay blocked and batted with desperation. His fiendish black eyes were wide as saucers. Though his chest did not labor and he did not sweat, he could not hide his confusion and astonishment. “Impossible.”
Venir delivered a high-arcing chop straight down with the speed of a lightning bolt.
Sornay’s arms snapped up, bringing his blade in for a block that would save his skull from being split in half.
Clang!
Brool hammered the sword into the underling’s skull, slivering off its flesh to the bone.
Somehow, Sornay held onto his blade and managed to retreat.
Sensing the kill, Venir closed in, batted down the underling’s defense, and took a stab at its heart.
The vicious wheeled away, but not before the spike sunk deep into its shoulder. It didn’t howl or cry like a normal man. It snarled and fought back with everything it had, like a wounded animal. “Never!” Sornay screamed and came at Venir with a terrific chop and stab.
Venir caught the blows on his shield and launched Brool into the underling’s side. The blade sank deep. Bone gave way to metal.
Crunch!
Sornay the vicious sagged when Venir tore the blade out. Somehow, he fought on, a bloodless fiend driven by a deep ancestral hatred. He took a stab at Venir.
Venir slid out of the way, cocked Brool back, and struck fast and precisely.
Rip!
Sornay’s head rolled from his shoulders and plopped on the ground.
Venir spun his axe. His restless eyes searched for Elypsa.
She was on her feet, clutching her side with one hand and carrying a sword in the other. Her eyes found his. She started running the other way.
CHAPTER 24
Before Fogle could even move, Brak was back on his feet, storming up the stairs.
“Brak, no!” Jubilee screamed, stepping into his path and waving her arms.
The seven plus footer paused, glowered down at her, picked her up, and flung her aside.
Fogle dove into her path, breaking her fall and tumbling to the ground with her. “Are you insane?”
Wincing and holding her shoulder, she replied, “I think.”
Pulling her up to her feet, he said, “Don’t do anything stupid again. You might as well try to stop a stampede of oxen next time.”
Jarla dismounted, took out her sword, and snaked her way up the stairs. She glanced at Fogle. “Are you coming, wizard?”
Inside the tavern, he heard wood being snapped. Glass breaking. Heavy grunting and growling. Something or someone was being slammed into the interior walls, shaking the entire building. Fogle grabbed onto the stair rail. “What manner of man or monster could have thrown Brak through a window?”
“I don’t know, but I have to find out.” Chin high, Jarla marched right inside.
Bringing a spell to his lips, Fogle went in after her. He gasped. The tavern, already a far cry from anything ever being tidy, was in the middle of a man-made demolition. Tables were overturned and smashed. The long oaken bar had been rammed through. Two candle chandeliers were torn from the rafter, and their rings were bent. Somewhere inside the kitchen, men or something like men howled and groaned.
Without warning, the shelves behind the bar burst into pieces. Three humanoids tore through the splintering wood, punching, kicking, and clawing each other. One of them was Brak. The other two were the fattest, squattest, baldest bearded ogres Fogle ever saw. Covered in kitchen grease and noodles, the threesome were a tornado of berserk fury.
Brak grabbed one ogre by the beard, held it fast, and popped it in the face.
The second ogre bit Brak’s leg.
The three of them rambled over the tavern floor and crashed through a support beam.
Astounded by the chaos, Fogle barely noticed the insistent tapping on his shoulder. “Jubilee, you should stay away.”
Jubilee popped in front of him. “Who are you talking to?” Her voice trailed off, and her eyes looked way up above Fogle’s head.
He glanced at the long, spidery fingers tapping on his shoulder and jumped away with a gasp.
A tall man stood there, slender as a pole. The man wore pale-brown robes past his toes, and his face was covered by his drape-like hood. “Are you with this berserker?” the figure said, stretching his spidery-hand out at Fogle’s face. “Are you? Are you?”
Freaked out, Fogle felt his lips begin muttering a spell.
Webbing flung from the stranger’s fingertips and covered Fogle’s mouth.
“Ulp!”
Jubilee screamed.
Jarla jumped at the lanky stranger.
The man held his hand up and said in a strong but peaceful manner, “You attack me, you attack us all. What is it you seek here? Why have you brought this trouble upon us, Jarla?”
Brak and the ogres slammed into the fireplace. Venir’s robust son stuffed one of the ogres’ heads into the fire, only to take a split upside his head.
“You know me?” Jarla said. “Who are you?”
“Yes, I know you, but you do not know me, Snake of the South. Now tell me what you seek.”
Jubilee yelled up at the man, “Food. Brak wants food. He goes berserk without it.”
The strange man took a knee and was still fully taller than Jubilee. “We’ll see.” He let out a shrieking whistle. “Food. Fetch food! Olg and Ugg! Fetch food, now!”
The ogres broke away from Brak and dashed for the kitchen. Their footsteps shook the room.
Brak stood alone by the fire. His neck muscles strained. His hands clenched in and out. He growled, sniffed, and snorted. “Muuuuuh-Raaaaaaah!”
Fogle peeled the webbing from his mouth. He fought to get the stickiness from his fingers.
“Can’t cast now, can you,” the strange man said. “Nice try anyway.”
Olg and Ugg burst out of the kitchen. Their big, meaty hands held metal baking dishes full of roast beast. They looked at the stranger.
The stranger waved his hands at them, saying, “Set it down, Olg and Ugg. Just set it down.”
Brak stormed across the room.
The ogre twins drew back their fists.
“Hold,” the stranger said. “Hold.”
Brak’s eyes fell on the cooked meat. He filled his hands with one of the roasts and stuffed it in his face.
“Hmmm, it seems your words are truthful,” the hooded man said. “He really is hungry. My, he eats like my ogres.”
“Your ogres?” Jarla said.
“My tavern too. The Orc’s Elbow. At least what’s left of it.” His hand disappeared into his hood, appearing to rub his hidden face. “I haven’t seen this kind of damage in years. And your friend the berserker, he seems familiar.”
The ogres and Brak got into a tugging match with the second hunk of meat. The three of them were growling at each other.
“Olg! Ugg! Leave it! Go get more food!”
That was when Fogle noticed the aprons on the two rotund ogres. “They’re the cooks?”
“Yes,” the stranger said. “And good ones too. I’m guessing your friend barged right into their kitchen. Nobody goes into their kitchen without their permission and comes out alive. Your friend shouldn’t be alive. Not many have ever fought ogres and lived to tell about it. I’ve only known one man to do so. His name was…”
At the same time, Jarla, Jubilee, Fog
le, and the stranger said, “Venir.”
Hand to his chest, the stranger stepped back. “I know how Jarla knows him, but how do you two know him?”
“Who are you?” Jarla demanded.
“Me?” The man dropped his hood down. His face was youthful, slender, and light eyed. A warm smile was on his face. “I’m Slim. Slim the Healer.”
Jarla sheathed her sword. “I don’t know you, but I know of you.”
“And I know all about you.” He was talking to Jarla, but he gave Fogle a wink. “The mere sight of you is a marvel, and it’s not because of your excellent body.”
“No? Why is it, then?” Jarla asked.
“It’s because your head is still attached to your shoulders. I could have sworn by now Venir would have taken it.” Slim’s face filled with some worry. “He’s not dead, is he? Zuusnalong! Of course he’s dead, or there wouldn’t be underlings everywhere.”
“I don’t think he’s dead,” Fogle replied.
“Me neither,” Jubilee agreed.
“So you do know him?” Slim’s voice filled with excitement. “Hah! We both lived to tell the tale from…” He glared at Jarla and then pointed at her face. “Our victory at Outpost Thirty-One. It’s ours now. Well, sort of. But you took it, and we got it back. Seriously, how do you still live?”
“I’m a survivor.”
Olg and Ugg reappeared from the kitchen with trays filled with greasy meat, cheese, and bread piled up to their fat necks. They sat down on the floor and ate with Brak. The three of them had cuts, bruises, and burns all over them. Gobbling up the food like a pack of hungry wolves, they appeared to be in a savage form of elation.
Slim cocked the head on his long neck to one side, stared at Brak, and said, “Those eyes. I know those eyes. That’s the bastard son of Vorla.”
Brak stopped eating and sat up. “Huh?”
CHAPTER 25
Melegal’s head snapped up. Joints sore from the shock of the blast, he nevertheless rolled over onto his elbows. The last thing he remembered was the underling dropping out of the sky in a bright explosion of yellow. His eyes ached. His hand went to his head. The floppy cap was gone.
Slat, no!
Another blast sounded off like the cracking of glass.
Melegal turned toward the sound. Kam and Joline were laid out on the ground with the yellow-eyed underling hovering over them. The haunting sight of the underling’s hypnotic gaze sent a chill down Melegal’s spine. His fingers searched for his cap.
It has to be close.
Keeping his eyes fixed on the underling aggressor, Melegal’s fingers combed the surrounding ground.
The underling’s hands charged up with mystic power that swirled around them. The deathblow of the women was about to be dealt.
No! Do something, Rat. Fight, or … they die.
With his mind still addled by the earlier blast and the cap missing, Melegal was at a loss. His friends were about to die, and he had no way to help them. Fingers clawing at the dirt for his cap, his wrist snagged on the ground.
Slat! The dart launchers!
Melegal took aim and squeezed the thumb-sprung trigger.
Twing! Twing! Twing! Twing! Twing! Twing! Twing!
The darts buried themselves in the underling’s exposed face. One of them stuck in its eye.
It teetered backward, clawing at the missiles in its face.
Nikkel appeared in the corner of Melegal’s eye. The powerful youth sprang to his feet and charged the underling, yelling out a battle cry. “RRraaawwwwwrrrr!” His full weight collided with the stunned underling and drove the fiend to the ground.
At long last, Melegal spied his cap, snagged it, and pulled it onto his head. He drew his blade and moved in to aid Nikkel, who was hammering away at the smaller underling with his fists. The thief sensed danger. The hairs tingled on his arms. He shouted a warning to Nikkel. “Get off him!”
Zzzz-rap!
Nikkel’s entire body shuddered and stiffened. His hair stood up on end. He fell backward and flat on his back.
“No!” Melegal screamed.
The underling’s eyes locked on Melegal’s. There was a deep hatred. Anger. Coming to its feet, the underling charged its hands with new fire that built into something that Melegal somehow knew would wipe him from the map.
Letting his mind merge with his cap, Melegal summoned a command he hoped was in Underling. “Die.”
The underling’s magic fizzled. Its good eye danced in the socket. It clutched at its heart and floated backward.
It worked. It worked!
Moving forward with his blade still drawn, Melegal went in for the kill, fighting the headache that threatened to make him pass out.
The underling staggered over the ground, but there was still fire in its eyes. Fists shaking, it reached up and pulled the dart out of its eye and screamed at Melegal in Underling.
Almost close enough to hit, Melegal forged right for the fiend and prepared his swing.
The underling floated straight up into the sky, became one with the wind, drifted, and disappeared from sight.
Jasper! Kam!
Melegal ran back to help the others. Not one of their huddled forms was moving.
***
It didn’t take long for Venir to catch up with Elypsa. The hobbled female underling was using her sword for a cane and spitting blood in the dirt. Helm urged Venir to finish her. If it was underling, it must be destroyed. The throbbing in his skull became more powerful the closer he got.
Elypsa came to a stop and faced him. “Go ahead, finish me.”
“Drop your sword,” he replied.
Elypsa tossed it aside. She held her arms out with her wrists pressed together. “Are you going to imprison me again?”
Fighting against Helm’s urgings, he unbuckled the chin strap, took off the helmet, and stuffed it in the sack. His breathing slowed. The hunger for death subsided. “We’re going to see what happened to my friends first. Then I’ll decide whether or not you die.”
“That’s more than fair. I wouldn’t show you any kind of mercy.”
Venir stepped around her and pointed the axe point at her back. “I know. I’ve already had this conversation.” Staying behind her, he marched her forward into the pass they had come through.
The underling vicious Sornay lay dead on the ground. His head was collecting dust.
“I have to admit, you are far more formidable than I ever imagined. I wonder how you would do without your weapon,” she said.
“Why would I fight without a weapon?”
“I think you understand my meaning. Clearly you fight with capabilities not your own. Those items you carry make you special.”
“Are you challenging me to a fistfight?”
Elypsa glanced over her shoulder and looked him up and down. “Your kind has a brash way with words. No, I was not thinking of a fistfight, but a duel with swords.”
“I haven’t always had the axe and helmet, but I’m still here,” he said. “And I killed plenty of underlings before I had them. It’s a tradition, with or without them.”
They made their way out of the hilltop pass and flattened out on the sandy sunbaked ground. Elypsa continued to limp and move too slowly for Venir’s great strides.
He poked the back of her shoulder, drawing a spot of her blood. “Move faster.”
She picked up the pace. “It’s only fair I warn you I’m certain your friends are dead. The one who beset them has great power and is renowned among the underlings. When the moment comes and you realize you have to dig many graves, unleash your anger and take my head.”
“No, I’m not going to do it your way.”
Elypsa slowed, turned, and walked backward. “Then how will you do it?’
“I’ll let my dog hunt you down and eat you. He hates underlings even more than I do.”
Elypsa swallowed. “You would do that.”
“Have done and will.”
Still walking backward, she said, “I believe I
have underestimated your heart. It sounds as black as mine.”
“It might be black and blue, but it’s all red within. Now turn around and get going.”
She turned.
Venir’s neck hairs stood on end. A mystic black hole appeared in the ground in front of them.
Elypsa moved like a jackrabbit and hopped right in.
Venir gave chase.
The hole collapsed and vanished, leaving only the dirt and dust. She was gone.
“Bone!”
He stuffed Helm onto his head, eyed the sky, and scanned the surrounding area. He didn’t see anything or sense anything. Thinking of his friends, he took off and ran after Billip and Chongo. After a few minutes of running, his friends came into view.
Chongo barked and ran up to greet him, licking from helmet to toe.
Venir found Kam and Erin huddled together. Jasper and Melegal were talking, and Billip was gathering the horses.
Venir kneeled by Kam. “How are you?”
Haggard and wary, she touched his grizzled face. “We had a scare, but we’re durable, just exhausted. I’m glad you’re well.”
“So what happened?”
“An underling mage dropped out of the sky and sent a shock through us.”
Melegal was holding Jasper’s hand and rubbing it. The young sorceress was pale, and her raven hair was singed. The thief wiped away the blood that was caking under his nose. “He was a powerful one. I think we wore him down, and I feel like I’ve gotten a nail driven into my head to pay for it. What about you?”
“Elypsa and a vicious cut us off and tried to take me down.” Venir took Erin from Kam and cradled her in his massive arms. “I took the head from its shoulders, but black magic whisked her away.” He eyed everyone. “We’ll all stay together from now on.”
“And what are we going to do now?” Melegal asked.
“We need to get after the dwarves. We’ll be safest among them.”
“Travel will be slower, Venir.” Billip led a horse up by the reins. “This beast is fine, but the other two are dead.”
“We’ll just have to make do with what we have,” Venir said. “Get what we can carry from their saddlebags, and let’s go.”
The Darkslayer: Bish and Bone Series Collector's Edition (Books 1-10): Sword and Sorcery Masterpieces Page 79