The Darkslayer: Bish and Bone Series Collector's Edition (Books 1-10): Sword and Sorcery Masterpieces

by Craig Halloran

  Melegal replied with a smile, “Well, if it isn’t Jeb.”

  CHAPTER 26

  A strange moment passed between Melegal and Jeb. Jeb had beaten the snot out of Melegal what seemed to have been an age ago. The wiry thief twisted in his stool. With a firm hand, he gathered Jasper behind him. “It astounds me how roaches like you manage to survive.”

  “Me?” Jeb’s wooly unibrow creased. He pushed the sleeves up over his forearms. “You should have died on the floor the day we met. Where would you be if that fat woman hadn’t protected you? I would have kicked your guts out if not for that fat sack.” He threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, that was a sight.”

  “Who’s he talking about?” Jasper said in Melegal’s ear.

  “No one worth mentioning.” Melegal reflected on the Motley girls—Sis, Frigdah, and Haze. He missed Haze. The likes of Sis and Frigdah he could do without. Keeping his attention fixed on Jeb, he said, “I see you’ve lost the table.”

  “Huh?” Jeb turned his greasy neck to the side, eyeballing the underlings in the back. He shook his mop of tangled hair and seemed to shrink a little. Lips curling, he said, “I’m letting them borrow it. As for you, well, did you come by for another whipping?” He gave Melegal a shove. “Huh?”

  “Don’t touch me again,” Melegal said.

  Teetering in his seat, Jeb gulped down more ale. He wiped the froth from his chin. “I say we go again!”

  Sam snapped his towel in Jeb’s face. “Mind yourself, man!” he said under his breath. “We don’t need any more trouble.”

  The underlings musing in the back ceased talking. The tavern quieted as they sat up in their seats, eyeing the men at the bar.

  Jeb glanced at the underlings and looked away. He sulked over the bar. “They killed my men. Right in front of my eyes.” His rugged voice weakened. A sob croaked out. “Murder is a game to them.”

  Melegal turned away from the underlings. He patted Jeb on the back as the brute slumped over the table. It was hard, but he did what was necessary to make the suspicious eyes turn away.

  Jasper slipped onto the other side of Jeb and began rubbing the man’s back. “There, there,” she said, showing Melegal a little shrug.

  “Well, don’t overdo it. This man is a—oh, never mind. At least he’s a man who bleeds red.”

  Melegal said to Sam, “Tell me, are the black fiends at ease?”

  “Aye. They’ve settled.”

  “How many crawl inside these walls?”

  “Just the ones on the floor. They hardly ever sleep. They roam in and out at night, but they don’t like to hear us talking much. It arouses suspicion.”

  “And the rooms?”

  “Many tenants never come out. I’m not even sure how they eat. Somehow, we manage to survive.” Sam tossed the rag over his shoulder. “Slat. They call. They’ll want to know who you are.”

  “Just tell them the place we once lived burned.”

  “Yeah, like they care.” Sam was starting to make his way down the tavern floor when Venir, Billip, Nikkel, and Hoff entered. Without breaking stride, he said, “Great slat.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Black Column was a series of jagged sheets of rock that appeared to have erupted from the ground to pierce the sky. The rugged slabs popped up for miles, making for rugged chasms and channels with many twists and turns. The dwarves scurried into small caves, storing supplies, while others climbed the rock with grappling hooks and rope. Above and all around, dwarves crouched like great birds on a rocky perch, spying their prey.

  Kam rode on Chongo’s back with Erin sitting in the saddle in front of her. Ahead, Mood walked with the stride of a mountain king, leading her and the host of the dwarves through the shadowed columns. The break from the sun was welcome. The wind that whistled through the narrows cooled her sweat-damp face. She kissed the soft hair on the back of Erin’s head. Kam’s heart was heavy. Venir had barely been gone, and she missed him already. She wished she were by his side. But she understood. She had to take care of Erin. Chongo and Mood would take care of her and Erin. She couldn’t be in safer hands.

  Inside the Black Columns, which lurked all around them like a forest of stone, the dwarves made camp and began setting their war machines on the high ledges and coves. The stout men went to task like bees around a hive. They didn’t stop until the work was done. Most rested on short legs with eyes open, humming solemn tunes. It did little for Kam’s longing, but it offered her sanctuary.

  Mood turned around. With his great hands, he petted both of Chongo’s heads. “Care to go up, or do you want to stay in the draft?”

  She eyed the spires. One in the center stood out among the others. Cone shaped at the base, it twisted in an upward spiral higher than the others. A ledge wound around it like a snake. It ended in a small plateau at the top as if a titan had chopped the stone cleanly off. She shrugged. “I’m certain Erin would enjoy the view. Perhaps she’ll get to kiss the clouds.”

  “Aye. Let’s go, then.” Mood led the way.

  Traversing the ledge, which was narrower than it originally appeared, Kam began to regret her decision. She pulled Erin in tighter. The little girl squealed and clapped her hands. Her round head turned as she peered all about. She pointed and cooed at the birds that soared from one jagged perch to another. Kam leaned over. The breadth of the ledge barely managed Chongo’s girth. Only jagged rocks were below them. Her stomach fluttered in a sickening way. There was no way to turn around. They could only move in one direction. Her breath became uneasy. Erin wriggled in the saddle. “Easy, little lady,” Kam said.

  In an hour, which seemed like an eternity, they crested the plateau. The flat stone slanted toward the ground. Mood stood on the highest edge with his fists on his hips, smoking a cigar. With the suns sinking in the sky and the stiff winds stirring his beard, he said, “It’s a good place for thinking and smoking.” He turned and pointed. “Look. Like a checker on a sandy board, there lies Bone.”

  The dwarf couldn’t have been more right. She’d never seen the City of Bone before, but its outlying walls and framework were perfectly clear. Even though she could pinch the view of it between her fingers, she could tell that it was enormous. It would swallow the City of Three whole. “I never imagined it was so vast.”

  “It was made for men bigger than the ones that are there,” Mood said.

  “I see. So it’s big enough to hold Venir’s ego. No wonder he likes it.”

  “Ho-ho! You said that right.” Mood rummaged through a sack hanging from Chongo’s saddle. He produced a brass spyglass almost as long as forearm. He stretched it out to full length and handed it to Kam. “Have a closer look.”

  She put the spyglass to her eye. When she shifted the scope from side to side, the gargantuan city filled the lens. She counted castle after castle. There were dozens, tremendous in size, each one bigger than the ones in her home. “I never imagined.”

  Chongo yawned.

  Kam twisted her hips, scanning the outland’s horizon in all directions. She passed over a black blot coming from the southwest then locked on the sight. Her heart skipped. Underlings moved in like a plague of black locusts. “Mood, I think we’re going to have some visitors.”

  The Blood Ranger took the spyglass and peered through it. In a huff of smoke, he said, “Good.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Venir looked down at the barkeep with a wary eye. “You jest.”

  “I don’t,” Sam said. The hard-eyed veteran watchman wiped his greasy hands on his towel and gave a shrug. “Listen, Venir, we go back a ways, and this is as strange as anything I saw, but they request it.”

  Jeb the brawler stuck his neck inside the crowd of men that included Melegal, Billip, Nikkel, and Hoff. “Go, do it. If they like you, they won’t kill you. But I’m betting on them killing at some point. They’ll kill us all eventually. Might as well have a good drink before you’re dead.”

  Venir saw the underling at the table waving him over with a casual, humanlike flip of
its hands. He ground his teeth.

  “It’s best that we go if you can’t handle this,” Melegal said.

  “This is bizarre.” Billip cracked his knuckles one by one. “What man dines with an underling?”

  “It’s becoming more common.” Sam made his way back behind the bar.

  “We call it ‘dine or die,’” Jeb said.

  “Who is this man?” Venir sneered.

  Billip said, “He’s the one Georgio thrashed in the game of hot blades. He wasn’t supposed to come back here anymore.”

  “Like it matters now.” Jeb held up his burned palms. “Like everyone else, I’ve got nothing left. Go ahead, have a drink with them. They can be friendly if they like you.”

  Venir had seen enough of the underlings in the City of Three to understand the kind of games they played. The same games were happening in Bone, but this time, the underlings walked the streets like men with the smell of burning flesh in the air. “And you say this is all of them?”

  “Different ones come and go,” Sam said.

  “I see.” Venir made his way over to the underlings. As he neared them, he unbuckled his knife and set it on a nearby table as Sam had suggested. He eyed the other men, and they did the same. Venir stood at the edge of the underlings’ table, looking them over.

  All in all, there were five underlings crowded by the table and the cold fireplace. The sharp nails on their lightly furred hands toyed with the pommels of the weapons they carried. Their eyes were fixed on Venir. Showing their sharp teeth, they chittered at one another.

  The underling in the finest armor made from links of blackened chain shoved a bottle of port across the table. Typically, soldiers on opposing sides shared a bottle once peace was made. Drinking from the bottle was a gesture of peace, but could also be taken for surrender.

  Venir picked up the bottle, put it to his lips, and paused.

  The underling’s eyes widened.

  With a flick of his wrist, Venir tossed the full bottle into the dormant fireplace. “I take it you speak Common Underling?”

  The amber-eyed underling glared at Venir. “I do.” His Common was broken, quick, but good enough. “Well enough to tell you that I’m going to cut your ears off and feed them to you.”

  Venir let out an uncomfortable laugh. “I like that. An underling with a sense of humor.”

  The underlings rose from the table. “You think I jest.”

  “I think you drink like a woman. Port is for girls.”

  Sharpened steel appeared in every underling’s hands. Their chittering became a clamor of angry hisses.

  Venir continued. “Real soldiers, true conquerors, drink grog.”

  The underling leader held out his hand, silencing the rest. “Tell me about this grog.”

  Venir reached over and grabbed the chain that tethered the barmaid by the neck. He pulled her to her feet. “Fetch us some, will you, girl?”

  The dark-haired maiden with sultry eyes gave him a nod and scurried away on bare feet.

  Venir pulled back a chair. “Find a chair, men.” He sat. The legs on the oaken chair creaked.

  With unease, the others took a seat nearby. The tension remained as tight as Billip’s bowstring. Hoff thumbed new sweat off of his nose. Nikkel’s pale-blue eyes were glued on one underling that stared him down.

  “I’m Venir.”

  “Kazzar is my name.” The underling leaned against the back of the chair. His eyes examined Venir’s body. “You have the mark of a warrior, but I don’t see the metal of a royal soldier on you. Why is that?”

  “I’m a former soldier. More or less a merchant of steel to the highest bidder. We were just about to depart Bone when the gates were closed.”

  “I see, Venir. Though I am curious that you and your men have survived the streets this long. You have a threatening demeanor about you.”

  “It’s a blessing in this harsh climate. A fierce stare ends many brawls.”

  The waitress returned with a tray carrying three clay bottles of grog. She loaded the table with glass tumblers and filled them one by one. Half the glasses were on one side and half on the other. Then she scooted away and out of sight.

  Venir passed the glasses back to the other men. Kazzar acted in similar fashion. The underlings, seated and standing, sniffed the stiff drink. “It’s very bitter but with a milky finish. It might turn those black ears of yours red, though.” He kicked the grog back and swallowed it. He clanked the tumbler on the table. “Ah, it’s been so, so long.”

  One by one, the men and the underlings drank the grog. Many of the underlings’ tight lips puckered. Every one of them set their glasses on the table. The waitress drifted in and refilled them.

  “They like it,” Kazzar said with a toast. “As bitter as cave bugs.” His nose crinkled. “There are many pleasantries in your city that I do so enjoy. All of you oversized blood bags aside, I admit you do take plenty of leisure enjoying things. You know, Venir, there is only one reason why you still live.”

  Venir knocked back another round. “And what is that?”

  “Because I could use the likes of you and maybe some of the others too. In the pits.”

  “I don’t follow. What pits?” Venir blinked. His lids became heavy.

  Kazzar’s face swirled. “You’ll know soon enough.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Brak sweated so much he didn’t pay attention to it anymore. Jubilee sat in the saddle in front of him, leaning into his chest. Her head bobbled as she half slept. It felt good having the young woman with him. Her soft hair brushed his chin from time to time. He held her steady with his hand on her tiny waist, watching Fogle, who led them on foot.

  Slim and the ogres lumbered behind him, arms swinging like elephant trunks. The ogres moaned to one another. They’d been walking for hours, but it didn’t seem as if they’d gotten anywhere at all.

  I don’t think he knows where he’s going.

  As Brak understood it, since they’d exited the Red Clay Forest at what he swore was the north side, the City of Bone should be northwest of that. But it was hard to say. The suns didn’t rise and fall in the same place, and some days were longer than others. This was one of those days. Time stood still. The crust over the dirt looked the same a mile ahead as it did behind. He took a breath and huffed it out.

  Jubilee stirred. Looking up into his face with a smile in her eyes, she said, “I was dreaming about you, Brak.”

  “You were? And you smile?”

  “Yes,” she said, clasping his arm in both of hers.

  “What happened?”

  “You were dead, but now I see you are still alive.”

  “Oh. That’s morbid.”

  Yawning, she said, “I’m just glad I woke. So where are we?”

  “I don’t think we know.”

  “Great.” She straightened up in the saddle but still leaned back comfortably into him. “This is Jarla’s fault.”

  “You know that we can’t count on her.”

  “No, but I just wish she was here so that I could tell her how much I hated her again.”

  Brak gave the horse a kick and trotted up alongside Fogle.

  The hard lines in the mage’s face had deepened. “What?”

  “Can’t you just cast a spell or something to guide us to where we need to be?” Jubilee said.

  “Slim is leading, not me.” He pointed at the ground. A column of ants bigger than a man’s finger marched several paces ahead. “See, I’m following insects.”

  “Why don’t you just have them draw us a map?” Brak let out a laugh. “That would be impressive.”

  “Honestly, I should be able to get us where we need to be, but I’m used to the west, not the east.”

  Slim caught up with them. “Don’t be so full of yourself. You’re a mage, not a tracker. Besides, the ants know where they’re going. I was very clear about our destination. I don’t think it could be that much farther.”

  Brak tilted his head, watching the line of ants. The
red-and-black-bodied creatures moved with organized purpose. “How long have we been following ants?”

  “Since hours ago, when I realized Fogle was lost,” Slim said.

  Fogle twisted off a string that hung from the hem of his sleeve. “How hard can it be to find a city that is supposed to be that big? There should have been some sort of trail that we’d come across by now.”

  Aside from the tremendous cacti and bone trees along with occasional fire lizards, Brak didn’t see anything else, not even the Mist in the east. He focused on the ants. One by one, they disappeared into the mud-cracked earth. “Uh, Slim, you need to get our ants back.”

  In a long, easy stride, Slim headed over, smiling. “Huh.” He scratched his head with his spidery fingers. “That’s odd.”

  The ground trembled. The horses whinnied. Brak’s frightened steed reared up on its hind legs. The surface exploded underneath them, tossing horse and rider to the ground. Brak looked up in time to see a black scorpion. It stood a head taller than him. Its pincers, big enough to crush a man, clacked. A tail curled over the giant insect’s back, stinger wet with venom.

  Olg attacked.

  “No!” Slim screamed.

  The scorpion’s tail flicked out, puncturing the ogre’s chest. The ruddy luster of Olg’s coarse skin paled. His jaw dropped open, and his eyes rolled up into his head. Olg had died. Ugg went into a frenzy. The blood-maddened ogre charged at the scorpion, crashing into its side. The insect’s legs wobbled, and its husk crashed sideways into the sand. Wheeling around on its legs, the monster clamped Ugg’s waist with its pincers. The ogre pounded the scorpion’s body with anvil-like fists. Ugg smote the monster in the eyes. It reared back. Like a cracking whip, the barbed tail of the scorpion came down and spiked Ugg in the head. The ogre’s eyes turned a milky green. Poison oozed from Ugg’s hanging mouth.

  “Run, Jubilee, run!” Brak yelled.

  The girl hung behind him, backpedaling on shaky legs, eyes fixed on the monster that had gored the powerful ogres.