CHAPTER 2
Sitting on a blanket, Fogle slipped his sandals on. He licked the salty sweat from his lip. His heart thumped so loud he could hear it. Jarla buttoned her leather vest over her firm breasts. She bent over and slid her chain-mail miniskirt over her long, athletic legs. She took her time. Fogle’s mouth watered.
I’ve just spent hours romping her to the point of exhaustion, and I still want her.
Jarla gave him a long, lasting, seductive look, strapped on her sword, and vanished into the trees in the forest.
Fogle swallowed. He wasn’t entirely sure what had gotten into Jarla, but he liked it. If I wasn’t a man before, I’m a man now. Bone, that was great! He fell onto his back with a smile from ear to ear. Though, I did feel like my chest was going to explode a couple of times. I’m glad it didn’t. He fanned his face.
The forest was so hot the leaves seemed to sweat. The night critters chirped and scurried, making an odd harmony in the background. He lay there for long minutes. The sweat dried. His body cooled. He rolled over on his elbow, reached for the waterskin, and drank. “Ah!”
After draining down several gulps, he donned his robes and stood on shaky legs.
The black witch made my knees weak. I wobble. He fell on his backside and laughed. He wasn’t sure what overcame him. He was giddy. He peered up through the leaves that half hid the moons hanging in the sky. He had fully expected Cass and Blackie to show up by now. Perhaps that was the thrill of it. Getting caught. Cass had hurt him. I won’t ever let her do that to me again.
He rolled up to a knee and found himself face to face with Slim’s bony knees. “Gah! Don’t do that again. Those pale legs of yours are scary.”
With a cheery voice and a warm smile, Slim said, “They aren’t quite as sensuous as Jarla’s, are they?”
“I should say not.” Fogle came to his feet. “I suppose you’ve been hanging around.”
Slim bit into a ripe, plum-colored fruit and, with his mouth half full, said, “No, you had your privacy. I just walked up after Jarla rode off. I didn’t hear all of the grunting and moaning until I was wandering back. It sounded like two wounded ogres making babies.” He crunched into the skin of the fruit. “I kept my distance after that.”
“Ha-ha.” Fogle picked up the blanket and began folding it up. His glance followed after Jarla and beyond the leaves that took her. “She rode off, you say?”
“She likes to ride.” Slim shrugged his eyebrows. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll come back. I think she likes you. Imagine the two of you galloping off into the sunsets. Won’t that be divine?”
“Your jests aren’t amusing.” Fogle set the folded blanket down. “Besides, I think part of what she did might have been out of jealousy, or spite, against Cass.”
“I have a feeling that you don’t mind that one bit. Shame on you, dirty old wizard.”
Fogle gestured with open arms as his head sank into his shoulders. “I couldn’t say no to that. Would you?”
“Probably not. Well, no, of course not. Jarla’s as gorgeous as the lights in the sky. I’ll warn you though, two women cut from a different cloth are both sinking their claws into you.” Slim made a tick sound. “They’ll rip apart you or each other.”
“I hardly think so. I can’t imagine two women fighting over me.”
“You’re a powerful man; they like that. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if they tried to kill each other over you.”
“You have a wild imagination.” Fogle took another drink from the waterskin and offered it to Slim. Slim took it.
“Just try to stay focused.” Slim’s Adam’s apple rolled as he gulped the water down. “Do you ever get the feeling after people leave you might not ever see them again?”
“All of the time.” Fogle’s eyes searched the clouds. “I hate waiting.”
***
Jarla returned a few hours later. A dead deer was draped over the back of her saddle. She dismounted and untied the deer. Carrying the beast on her shoulder, she walked over to the campfire where Fogle and Slim sat and dropped the deer. “Anyone hungry?”
Fogle nodded. “I could eat.”
“Good.” She pulled a dagger from her belt and flicked it into the ground. The edge of the blade nicked the sole of Fogle’s sandal. “Start skinning and start cooking.”
“You want me to do it?”
“I brought the dinner. You cook it.” She took Nightmare by the reins and walked away.
Scratching at his beard, Fogle looked at Slim, who said, “I think you’re being domesticated. Don’t worry, I’ll help you skin the deer.”
“I can skin the deer, but I’m not very good at it. It’s not exactly my forte.” Fogle’s lips twisted in a sneer. “I’m not some manservant to do her bidding. I’m a mage. A formidable one. I could turn this entire forest to ashes if I wanted.”
“If you don’t want to cook the beast, then make her do it,” Slim suggested. “Use a spell. Bend her will to yours.”
Fogle squinted. Jarla and Nightmare faded in with the trees and shrubbery. “Eh, I guess I can do it just this once, but not so much for her, for myself and you.”
“I’m flattered.” Slim stood, his knees cracking. “I’ll make a spit. You start skinning.”
Fogle plucked the dagger out of the dirt and eyed the blade. His eyes fell on the deer. With a long sigh, he pushed up his sleeves, rolled the deer over, plunged the dagger in, and opened up the carcass. “Pew.”
Jarla watched Fogle struggle from far away, inwardly laughing to herself.
CHAPTER 3
From a rooftop, Venir overlooked the Royal Roadway, a long thoroughfare paved with cobblestones that stretched from the east gate to the west gate, with a huge intersection in the middle leading north to south. It was ten wagons wide. For the past several days, Venir and Melegal had been in hiding, moving from spot to spot, trying not to get scooped up. It was nightfall now. The breeze had died, but the foul stench of death still hung in the air. He stood with his broad back against a chimney stack. Black smoke from the streets stung his eyes.
“That’s a lot of gallows.” Creed knelt on one knee, peering over the ledge of the building. His red locks were woven in a tress. Corrin stood by his side. His steely eyes were glued to the men hammering nails into the support beams of the gallows. “I’ve never seen so many necks stretched before. There’s hundreds of them.”
The gallows were spread out along both sides of the streets. The ropes holding the broken bodies groaned as the wind picked up. Pyres of burning bodies glowing with a foul fire illuminated the streets. Men’s, women’s, and youngsters’ feet dangled over the cobblestones. One of the gallows was in full swing. A man was hustled up the steps. He shouted muffled pleas through the rope that bound his mouth. The underlings shoved the kicking big fellow up the stairs.
“Good for him,” Corrin said as he shaved a block of wood with a small knife. “Don’t go down without a fight. Screw those black bastards.” One at a time, the prisoners were shoved up the steps until ten living bodies filled the nooses. The underling executioner wore a dark suit of leather armor adorned in small chains. Chittering at the small crowd of underlings howling for blood, the executioner yanked the handle back.
The bodies dropped. Nine of ten necks snapped. Feet danced and twitched on one man. An underling shot him in the heart with his crossbow.
Venir ground his teeth. Creed’s big mitt was white knuckled on his sword grip. Corrin shook his head side to side in a slow motion.
The worst of it wasn’t over. The underlings lined up in a row in front of the gallows. The black soldiers loaded up small crossbows and blow guns and held target practice. The bolts and darts protruded all over the dangling bodies.
Creed spit. “No respect for our dead. I’m going to make those fiends eat it.” He twisted his head in Venir’s direction. “What say you?”
“They’ll eat my steel soon enough.” Venir didn’t obey Helm’s urgings. If he did, there’d be slaughter in the stre
ets. “Now’s not the time for fighting but for thinking. I have to admit, I’m much better at the fighting part.”
Venir pushed off the chimney and peered west. The gate’s forces still numbered in the hundreds. Venir was still kicking around the wizard Altan Rey’s idea. Perhaps he should go into the pit fights with the castle. It would be a place where they could strike down all of the enemies at once. He was a little uncertain about Altan Rey. The royal mage had transformed into the identity of an underling mage named Kazzar. Venir still wasn’t certain that he could trust him.
“So you say there are ten thousand strong dwarves outside in the Black Columns, waiting to slam through the gate?”
“Something like that.”
Venir scratched the side of his cheek. Mood and the dwarves would be pinned between the City of Bone and the underling army coming from the west. The dwarves could hold out a long time in the Columns, but not forever. Plus, Kam, Erin, and Chongo were there. They were his family. He couldn’t let them down, or eventually, they’d be slaughtered as well. “They can hold out a long time in the Columns. Weeks at least. Maybe months.”
“They can’t go without food that long. Not in that hot desert,” Creed said.
“They can.” Venir picked up his rucksack and slung it over his shoulders. “I’ve seen enough. Let’s head back.”
***
The Chimera was no longer the sordid watering hole of the royals sowing their seeds. Its polished tables were half filled with a clandestine lot, both citizens and royals. Melegal sat with his back to the wall in the corner of the room adjacent to the bar. Jasper’s bottom filled his lap as she dabbed wine from the corner of his lip with a napkin. Rayal sat across from him with Elizabeth beside her. The girl’s smile was carved upside down.
“Let me have some wine, Rayal?” Elizabeth said. “No one gives a slat if I drink or not. We’re all going to die—well, at least you all will. I’m pretty sure I can talk my way out of it.”
“Not with a mouth like that, you won’t.” Rayal combed her silky locks aside. “Then again, if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were part underling.”
Elizabeth stuck her tongue out.
The tavern dwellers were a patchwork of people that managed to survive and cling together. The royals were easy to spot, dressed in their simple fineries but doing a poor job trying to fit in. The other citizens were a bunch of long-faced weepers and smokers with reddened eyes. All they talked about was the coming death unless they worked with the underlings.
Melegal’s long fingers drummed the table but made no sound. Such cowards. It took so little to break them. He emptied the purple wine in his goblet, set it down, and pushed it over to the jug. “Pour, please.”
“You need to keep your wits about you, Me.” Jasper tilted the bottle over the goblet. “This sullies the mind.”
“Hardly. It’s watered down. I’ve tasted rain water stronger than this swill.” He took a sip. “Where is that lout anyway?”
A commotion started at the front door. Gasps followed. People hunkered over their tables as an underling patrol sauntered inside.
Melegal hissed through his breath. “Bish.”
CHAPTER 4
The cowering crowd in the Chimera huddled over their tables, eyes down, with their noses in their glasses. An amber-eyed underling wearing a gray set of robes stepped between two underling soldiers. His piercing eyes scanned the bodies leaned over the tables. With a quick chitter, he pointed a finger with a sharp nail toward a strapping man leaned over the bar.
“You,” the underling said to the man at the bar. “Come with us, human.”
The man wore a jerkin that cut off at the elbow. The muscles in his wiry forearm flexed. His free hand slid from his knee to a knife tucked into his belt.
Melegal’s fingers grazed over the dart launchers underneath his sleeve. Jasper’s index finger circled in the air. Her silent lips spoke in syllables. They’d have to run. He tipped his chin at Rayal. She gave a gentle nod. Elizabeth’s eyes were wide with interest, like a wicked child plucking the wings off a fly.
The underling soldiers, barely five feet tall in most cases, strutted among the tables, hissing and brandishing sharp curved steel. Two of them flanked the strapping man at the bar.
The robed underling spoke again. “You, man, I said come with us.”
“I won’t be a body for your gallows,” the man said. “I’ll die first.” He struck out with the knife, trying to bury the blade in the neck of the underling standing behind his right shoulder. The underling ducked under the blade. The underling’s fist jabbed the man hard in the ribs. The man fell off his stool. The underling clubbed the man with a black rod of wood. The hard, heavy smacks echoed in the room. The little fiend with the rod choked the man by the neck with the stick and dragged him, heels kicking, from the tavern.
This wasn’t the first time Melegal had seen this happen. It had happened a few times in the past few days as they moved from spot to spot. He’d seen dozens taken to the gallows, snatched from their homes and dragged screaming through the streets. This group was different though. He rocked slowly on the back two legs of his chair. The underlings hustled out a couple more humans that were pleading for their lives. “No! No! Please! I’ll do anything!” The wailing fell on deaf ears.
The robed underling stopped in front of Melegal’s table. He gave them all a long once-over. Two wiry underlings hung behind their leader’s back. With a chittering speech, the underling said to the soldiers in Common, “I like this place.” He gazed at the sparkling crystals hanging from the chandeliers. “Clear it out. Take those men to the dungeons and prepare them for the pits. I’ll screen this scrawny brood for information.” His eyes glowed with radiant amber. “Citizens!” He glared at everyone left in the room. “Why are you still here? Do you want to hang from the gallows?” No one moved. “Go!”
The dwellers scrambled out of their seats, knocking over chairs and bumping tables on their way out. Aside from Melegal’s gang and the underling, the tavern was empty. Even the barkeep and staff were gone.
The underling dragged over a chair and sat down. Resting his forearm on the table, he said, “Relax, it is I, Altan Rey.” He rubbed his nose. “For certain. Can’t you tell?”
“It’s hard to say,” Melegal replied. “All underlings look the same to me.”
Altan chuckled. “I guess I deserve that. After all, I do need to make a convincing disguise.”
“So, you’re still rounding up fresh meat, I see,” Melegal said.
“I take no pleasure in it. I have to keep the act up, or my superiors will get suspicious. But have a little faith. The ones going to the pit fights are given some time and a fighting chance. Who knows, they might still be breathing if we succeed in this little revolution.”
“When we succeed,” Rayal said.
“Of course, forgive me. I’m not a pessimist, but the odds are not in our favor,” Altan replied.
“Where’s Ashlyn?” Melegal asked.
“She’ll be along. And Venir?”
“You never know with him, but if it’s still quiet outside, that’s a good sign.” Melegal adjusted his cap. He still wasn’t sold on Altan Rey. There were plenty of royals marching in lockstep with the underlings. There was no reason to believe that he wasn’t one of them. For now, he’d use the man for information. “What’s the latest news from the underlings? Are they still bent on filling the streets with the burning bodies of the citizens?”
Altan scooted closer. “They are offering rewards for any knowledge of the culprits who turned the underling ranks into hunks of dog food. Any talk of a man called the Darkslayer is to be squelched. I should say, your friend Venir makes quite an impact. The mere mention of the slayer brings them to a frenzy.” His eyes drifted over to Rayal. “Have you managed contact with your father?”
“I am waiting to hear back.” She gave him a hard look in the eye and looked away. “These things take time.”
“Time is not someth
ing we can wait for,” Altan said. “You must convince him that they need to host pit fights in Castle Kling. I’ll have my best fighters included and hopefully a few more from among you.”
“We aren’t going in that direction for certain, Altan.” Melegal narrowed his eyes on the man. “Venir wants the gate down.”
“Venir wants a shot at Sinway. This is the best way to do it. Take him down and the entire city will be in chaos, at least for the underlings. That’s when we strike. When the moment comes, our forces will be ready.”
“Let me be clear: That’s not for you to decide. I’ve been down this road before, many times. We’ll do what we do, with or without you. Do you understand, Altan?”
Altan gave a stiff nod and with a froward mouth said, “Clearly.”
CHAPTER 5
A forty-man tent made from black canvas was nestled at the bottom of the rocks of the Black Columns. Twelve dwarves wearing breastplates and carrying spears stood guard in the front. Alone, Fogle approached. It had been half a day since Cass returned on Blackie. She’d picked up him and Slim. Jarla went her own way, riding north, toward the City of Bone. He caught a final glimpse of her galloping over the outland dust, and that was it. She was gone.
Cass sneaked up beside him and took his hand in hers. “Feeling better?” She rubbed his tummy.
The flight had made him more than a little queasy. He vomited midflight not once but twice. “I don’t think flying is something I’m meant for.”
“Of course not. It’s an acquired thing, I suppose.” Her soft fingers combed his hair over his ear. “You are still green as a one-eyed toad. Are you hiding something, Fogle? You are not warming to me as I would expect. I don’t like it.”
Averting his eyes, he rubbed the back of his head. “I’m unsettled. It will pass.” He squeezed her hand. “Come. Let’s see what is brewing inside, shall we?”
“I’ll stay out here. I don’t go for confined spaces.”
The Darkslayer: Bish and Bone Series Collector's Edition (Books 1-10): Sword and Sorcery Masterpieces Page 97