“That one does not burn,” Billip remarked with his head tilted toward the sky.
The corpse plummeted to the earth, smacking hard into an elderly man who’d just woken. Seconds later, both of the dead were hauled off to the fires.
Melegal felt his stomach turn. Nothing but madness surrounded them. Inside the walls, the underlings worked with men. Outside the walls, scores of royal soldiers and the city watch fought to maintain order. They drove the flocks of people away from the expansive walls with spears and clubs. Their refined armor had tarnished. The once-proud luster in the soldiers’ eyes had been replaced with despair. All of their efforts to maintain the desperate mob were either halfhearted or filled with cruelty.
Squeezing through the masses, Billip said, “These are southern folk.”
“Yes, I follow their long-drawn gibberish.” Melegal slipped by some itchy fingers that clawed at his clothes as they neared the southern gate. Terrific in size, the monstrous iron gate was closed. So was the arched pedestrian lane. People were crammed inside the arches, hammering at the gates. Their pleas were shouts of desperation.
“Let us in!”
“We starve!”
“Don’t leave us to the slaughter!”
Melegal turned his back. Looking south over Billip’s shoulder, he could see people coming in droves. Every new wagon that arrived was raided by mobs of people. “This is sick. What has possessed these people?”
A man missing his legs, who used his fists for canes, ambled up to Melegal’s knees. He had a head and face full of scraggly graying black hair. “I’m not of much use, but I hear quite well. I know things. Got any eats?”
Melegal squatted down. “I have a very pointy knife.”
“You speak to me as if I’m someone that has something to lose,” the cripple said. “I’ve nothing to lose, but I offer what I can. I only ask for a morsel in exchange.”
“That won’t happen among this flock of carrion,” Melegal said. “I’m certain they could smell milk from a goat’s tit a mile away.”
The cripple nodded. “Agreed. Follow. Come. Follow.” The hobbled man cut through the crowd at an alarming speed for a person who used his arms for legs. He led them toward the pyre of smoldering bodies and stopped. There wasn’t anyone around. “No one likes the stench, so it’s the best place to have a conversation without someone prying into your business. Everyone pries. I’ve seen them kill over pigeon slat.”
“Sounds like you know many things.” Melegal slipped a thumbnail of jerky from his pouch. The cripple snatched it in one fluid movement and stuck it in his mouth. “Ah, that’s good. Peppery.” He sucked on it from the side of his cheek. “I might die a happier man this day.”
Billip stayed within earshot but kept an eye out.
“So what do you know, Legless?” Melegal asked.
“You men were curious about why the southerners flock here. The underlings rule the south all the way to the Mist.” Legless scooted from the fires. “A little too close. Eh, as I was saying, they seek refuge, but those gates don’t part. Those soldiers you see, they come in shifts. It’s a nasty thing when they come in and out, fighting the breach. There are orders to kill any troublemakers. Much blood has been spilled with their steel.”
“You speak with the tongue of the city,” Melegal said. “Were you within and are now cast out?”
“I’m a citizen of Bone. The underlings only want the able-bodied within. I was nothing more than old fodder for the royals—a fallen watchman that lost his legs for sleeping at his post. I was hauled out in a wagon before the refugees came. It was that or the furnace, they said.” Legless reached inside his shirt and produced a brown cap with a black bill. “It’s sentimental.”
“That could be anyone’s.”
Legless rolled up his sleeve, revealing the tattooed markings of the city watch on his forearm. “You know that is the real thing.”
Melegal rubbed the back of his head. He still had a small knot that never went away from when the city watch nearly clubbed him to death on the Royal Roadway. “So how many underlings reside within?”
“The underlings walk the streets like citizens as if they built our city.” He spat on the ground. “The royals cower to them, and I don’t see how. Their minds are in some sort of delusion. In all my days, I’ve never seen the royals cower to anyone or anything. Yet here we are.”
Melegal scratched his chin. Scanning the faces in the crowd, he noted a few able-bodied people moving in an orderly fashion through the camp. Hmmm. He sauntered over to Billip.
The archer’s eyes were searching every face from the ground up to the highest spires. He was nodding.
“I suspect that you are thinking what I am thinking,” Melegal said.
“Is that so? I doubt that,” Billip said.
“Well, it would be hard for me to figure out what you are thinking. I, however, thought of it first.”
“And?”
“I believe the underlings don’t realize that an enemy army lies right under their noses.”
Billip’s eyes lit up. He stopped popping his knuckles. “I am surprised. And who better to lead this wretched army than one of their own kind? Heh.”
“So you agree.”
Billip shrugged. “As hard as it is to believe that idea came from your lips, I do.”
“Good. Now that I’ve come up with my part, I’ll let you and Venir come up with the rest of the plan.” He glanced over at the fire, searching for Legless. The man was gone. A little tingle went down his spine. “It seems our half man has wandered off. I don’t like it. Find him.”
Barely moving his head, Billip replied, “I found him.”
Melegal followed the direction he was looking at and found a horse soldier armored in links of steel from head to toe. Legless tugged on the man’s stirrup. In a frantic way, the half man pointed right at them. The soldier called for reinforcements. A squad gathered.
Melegal said to Billip, “Slat on that dirty little spy.”
CHAPTER 13
Accompanied by the forest magi, Brak, Jarla, Slim, Jubilee, and the half-ogre twins broke free of the forest. Without a word, the magi vanished into the forest, leaving the party when the red clay met the dirt. Brak let out a sigh, though his breathing didn’t come any easier. Fogle wasn’t there, and it was as if a part of Brak was gone. The wizard had been swallowed up in the confines of the unforgiving forest.
“We can’t just leave him in there.” Jubilee shared a horse with Brak, riding behind him. “It’s not right.”
Nightmare nickered. Sitting tall in the saddle of the dapple-gray horse like a dark queen, Jarla said, “He made his choice. I can live with it.”
“Of course you can,” Jubilee said.
“I know I’m grateful to be out of there,” Slim said. The slender seven-footer’s hands were on his hips. His light eyes peered around. “I’m not so certain where we are now.” He pointed. “Is that north? It’s so hard to tell.”
“It is north.” Jarla nudged the horse with her knees. Nightmare moved forward.
“Where is she going?” Jubilee said.
Brak shrugged. “Jarla, where are you going?”
The woman kept going.
“We’re better off without her, you know.” Jubilee tugged on Brak’s arm. “Aren’t we?”
“I suppose,” he replied.
“You don’t sound very convinced.”
“There isn’t any other direction to go,” he replied. “The underlings chased us from the south. We can’t go back that way. I’m not sure where else to go aside from Bone. What do you think?”
“I think we should find Fogle.”
“In there?” Brak glanced at the color-filled forest. “Finding a needle in a haystack would be easier. No, we need to go north. The more of us, the better—and that includes Jarla. If we run into any underlings, we’re going to need her fighting skills.”
Scowling in Jarla’s direction, Jubilee said, “I don’t think we need her at all.”
“What do you think, Slim?” Brak asked.
“At least we know what to expect from her.” The healer stood in between Ugg and Olg, just as tall but not even a quarter their width. He patted them on their backs. “Besides, these big fellas will protect us. We just need to get some meat in them. The sooner we eat, the better.”
“They aren’t going to be able to get into Bone. Only humans are allowed,” Jubilee said.
“Eh, we’ll think of something.” Slim rubbed his strange hands together. “Besides, I have more of my powers back now.” He wiggled his spidery fingers. “Something will come up.”
Jubilee raised a brow. “Like bugs?”
Brak held his stomach. He didn’t remember eating the bugs, but he did remember burping something up that tasted funny. He felt Jubilee digging her fist into his ribs. “Well, what are we going to do?”
He took one last look at the Red Clay Forest. It didn’t feel right leaving Fogle behind with the magi. It left a sour feeling in the pit of his stomach. If there was ever someone they needed that they could trust, it was Fogle.
“Brak, are we going or what?”
***
Led by the forest magi, Fogle had squirmed through rough foliage that covered a huge mound of dirt. It didn’t take long until he severely missed his friends. The magi, though human, were weird. He found their preference to live in the earth appalling. Sitting inside a cavern dimly lit by the glowing juice of bugs splattered on the wall, he dusted debris from his hair. At the moment, he was alone aside from the bugs that crawled over the dirt floor.
Such a bad idea. After he’d squeezed through the hole, they’d gagged him again. His hands were bound in front of him, and he couldn’t even wiggle his fingers. Someone is not taking any chances.
There was something he didn’t understand. How did they know that the spell book was his? And why had Rane brought him to them? It was odd. Perhaps it was my robes.
He sat and waited, doing his best to recall any of the magic he still had left in him. There was little that he could use to his advantage. He’d used up most of his powers when they fled from the underlings and into the forest. Most of what he’d had left had been sapped. The spell book helped him recharge at a faster rate. It centralized his focus and enabled him to do more specific things.
Perhaps I should have dabbled more in sorcery than spell casting.
There was a difference between magic and sorcery. The mystic powers of Bish could be summoned through practice and study. For some, like Kam, magic was in the blood. They were born with it. They could summon it with concentration much like the underlings did. Fogle’s powers came through hard work and endless hours of study. But it was the application of his magic that made him strong. A sorcerer’s powers were limited without deeper study. Jealous students like Fogle always considered sorcerers lazy. Fortunately, like his grandfather Boon, Fogle felt a little magic all the time.
A mage squeezed through an entry hole that Fogle hadn’t even noticed. Two others followed. Then a fourth body came through. It was Rane. In silence, the forest magi crawled over on all fours and surrounded him. Rane removed the gag from his mouth.
“Hello,” Fogle said in an awkward manner. He didn’t see the spell book among the magi.
One of the magi dragged a clay pot over. A lid sealed the top.
Rane spoke in a haunting tone. “There is still too much magic in you. We can sense it. We need to drain it. Otherwise, you’re too dangerous.”
Eyeing the pot, Fogle licked his lips. “What is in there?”
“Fleeg.”
“Fleeg?”
The forest magi lifted the lid from the pot. A soft yellow glow came from within. The jar moved. Something slithered out in the shape of a snake. It didn’t have eyes, head, or scales. It just glowed. The forest magi held Fogle fast.
The wizard recoiled. “No, get that thing away from me.”
“Thing?” Rane said. “You mean things.”
More fleeg slithered out, one right after another. They slid around Fogle’s arms and legs and latched onto him like leeches. He screamed.
CHAPTER 14
“So what did you discover?” Venir asked. The warrior was sitting with his back against Chongo.
Melegal and Billip had returned. Their faces were ashen.
Dusting off his knees, Billip said, “The same as always. Trouble.”
“Aye,” Melegal said. “We were doing well until that legless bastard gave us up over a biscuit.”
“You should have given the half man more jerky,” Billip said. “You’re too stingy.”
“He’s half a man. I gave him half a share.”
“Who is the legless man?” Venir asked.
“Probably some watchmen you chopped up back in your day. He tickled our ears long enough to capture our attention.” Melegal gathered up his gear and carefully strapped it on. “He ratted us out to the soldiers. We gave them the slip.”
“You’re certain of that?”
“It’s me we’re talking about.” Melegal concealed a small dagger in a boot sheath. He checked his dart launchers. “There is no soldier that I cannot slip. I can’t say the same for this sandbag.” His eyes slid over to Billip. “Eh, somehow he made it.”
“So you learned nothing?”
“No, I say we learned plenty.” Billip slung his quiver over his shoulder. “The half man might have turned for a nibble, but his words were true. The underlings have flooded the south. As for Bone, none come in or out. They are all left to starve to death.”
“What about the underling forces within?”
“The citizens are still superior in number,” Melegal said.
Venir’s hand clawed at the dirt. “Bone! What are those royal arses waiting for? Certain death? Annihilation?”
“They’re making the same bad deals as the royals in the City of Three,” Melegal said. “Scared to lose what they have, they will eventually lose everything.”
“We’ve had a thought,” Billip said.
“We?” Venir smirked. “I’m curious what that might be.”
Billip continued. “A desperate and starving army lies dormant at the underlings’ door—”
“And all we have to do is let them in,” Venir said. “Huh, now that’s an idea I can get behind.”
“Of course you can, because it’s mine,” Melegal said, cleaning his nails with a thumb knife.
Billip rolled his eyes. “So the rat of Bone is a master of military strategy now?”
“I’m a master of everything.”
***
The troop of men arrived back in the dwarven army camps shortly after the second sun had set. Kam hugged Venir. Rubbing his arm, she said, “I honestly thought you’d be gone much longer. I’m not used to you returning so quickly.”
Engulfing her voluptuous body with his arms, he replied, “You sound a little disappointed.”
“No, not at all. Shocked is more like it. I’m glad you’re back even though I’m sure you’re just syllables away from announcing your departure again.”
His lips parted, but Kam put her finger to them. “Just hold me.” The more time she spent with Venir, the more time she wanted to spend with him. He’d grown on her again. She wanted him. She needed him. “Let’s go for a walk.”
“Where to?”
“I don’t know, but grab a blanket.” She left Erin in Jasper’s care. Holding his hand, she led Venir out of the camp underneath the dark tapestry of the cloudy sky. When the sounds of the encampment became no more, she took the blanket and spread it out on the ground. “Sit.”
Venir complied.
Kam stripped off her robes. Her body filled his hungry eyes. She gave him all she had, panting on and off through the night until the second sun rose again. Lying side by side with Kam nuzzled in his arms, Venir exclaimed in a whisper, “Bish.”
***
Standing over a map spread out on a table, Mood said, “The underlings aren’t moving fast, but they are crowding u
s inches at a time. They bait us.”
Venir stood inside a huge command tent that included only the barest of necessities. Billip was there. A pair of Blood Rangers, a dwarven black-bearded general, and a renegade knight of the royals named Hoff who had also joined up with them. Tarcot the strider stood behind them all, staring down over their heads.
The king of the Blood Rangers tapped his sausage-sized fingers on the table. “We’ll have to engage soon. That, or we’re going to have to take the fight into the Black Column. I’m not going to march my army around that city for an eternity, waiting for them to strike first. They’ll have us hemmed in at one point or another. I can’t risk getting squeezed from both sides.”
“That’s why we need to take the army into Bone,” Venir said.
“None of my dwarves has ever set a foot inside Bone, and none ever will,” Mood said.
“Things change, Mood. It’s a sound idea. We need to do it.”
“You don’t even know what lies in there.”
“No, but I’m going to find out. Just give me a week to slip inside, and you keep an eye on the western gate.”
CHAPTER 15
Ebenezer Kling scanned his familiar surroundings. He stood inside the arena of Castle Kling. It was a small courtyard that soldiers used for training. Often tournaments were held there. The arena was round, about twenty-five yards from one side to the other, and surrounded by about ten rows of wooden bench seats.
Underlings filled a small portion of those seats. Master Sinway sat four rows up with two juegen underling soldiers dressed in dark plate armor from head to toe. The citrine-eyed Kuurn sat one row in front of him and to the left. The other underlings were not notable.
Ebenezer rubbed the calluses on his strong hands, warming the skin. The female underling, Elypsa, sparred with one of his soldiers. She was a gorgeous thing with a strange beauty that defied comprehension. Her skill with a sword wore her bigger, stronger opponent down. Her black steel struck like biting snakes.
The Darkslayer: Bish and Bone Series Collector's Edition (Books 1-10): Sword and Sorcery Masterpieces Page 87