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

by Craig Halloran

  The dwarves guarding the entrance to the tent stepped aside.

  Fogle pushed the flap aside and entered. The tent was full of familiar faces. The most captivating of all was Kam. She hopped out of her chair when she saw him.

  “Fogle!” She gave him a fierce, memorable embrace. “My heart swells to see you!”

  “So does mine.” Surveying the room, Fogle saw Brak slouched over a gaming board and facing Jubilee. The game board was a grid of blue and black circles with game pieces of the races carved from marble. Jubilee’s brows knit together. Mood stood with this hands locked behind his back, looking down at maps on the table. There were two other blood rangers with him and four black-bearded dwarves. They spoke in Dwarven. His father, Boon, stood among them. He gave a nod to Fogle. “So, it’s been a long time. Care to fill me in, Kam?”

  They sat down on a pair of stools. Erin was sleeping at Kam’s feet, bundled up in fox-fur blankets. The little girl was the only one in the room without tension marring her sweet round face. Dark circles showed underneath Kam’s eyes, but her voice was cheery. She caught him up on many things, including the demise of Lefty and Georgio.

  Patting her hand, he said, “I’m sorry, Kam.”

  “We’re dealing with it.” She tipped her head at Brak and Jubilee. “They hurt the most for it. I’m just so glad you’ve survived your awful adventures.”

  “So, Venir is inside the city, is he?”

  “Drawn like a bear to honey. It’s supposed to be a scouting mission. It’s been days. No word from him yet. We’re tempted to send someone after him.” She gave Fogle’s hand a squeeze. “The underling army presses. There are so many, Fogle. There is a sea of them.”

  Fogle had a good look at the map from his position. Each figure represented a group of men. The underlings were five to one compared to the dwarven forces.

  “I’m telling you, King of the blood rangers, that’s all of them. They’ve abandoned the Underland.” Boon engaged in a fierce debate with Mood. “With the help of the giants, you can destroy them all!”

  Mood slammed his fist on the table. The figurines hopped and fell. “We won’t make a truce with giants! You cannot trust them. I know this! You know this too!”

  “It’s not a matter of trust so much as a matter of bargaining. We need to attack now, while the underlings are exposed. There won’t ever be another chance like this.” Boon poked Mood in the shoulder.

  Mood glared at him and huffed cigar smoke in Boon’s face. “Don’t do that again, mage. I’m your friend, but I’m still kingship. No, we’ll hole up in the Columns and fight them to the end or until the gate gives way.”

  “A pair of giants could open those gates as easy as one, two, three. Just use them. I do it all of the time.”

  “Get him out of here,” Mood said to his black-bearded dwarves. The dwarves shoved Boon toward the exit flap.

  “Don’t shove me, bearded brutes. I could turn you into orcs with a thought.” The dwarves shoved Boon harder. “Gack! Away with you! I’ll leave on my own. Grandson, talk some sense into them, will you?” Boon vanished through the flap.

  Fogle found Mood’s emerald eyes locked on him. “Got something to say?”

  “Grandfather’s passionate about his cause. I’m sure there is much truth to it.” Mood huffed rings of yellow smoke. “There is no truth in the giants.”

  “Or the underlings, for that matter,” Fogle replied.

  “No, but we know what side they are on. The giants, you never know. There’s a reason they don’t roam this world like they used to. We ran them off, to the mist, for good. It needs to stay that way, underlings or not.”

  “Now that I’m here, Mood, is there anything that I can do to assist you?” Fogle asked.

  “Would your sorcerous ways be able to get word to or from Venir?”

  Fogle smiled. “With my spell book, that is most certainly possible. Kam, will you assist me?”

  “I’d be glad too,” she said.

  “Chongo can find Venir quicker than you can,” Brak said. He stood up so tall his head almost hit the top of the tent. “I say we go after him.”

  Perked up, Jubilee said, “I agree.”

  “No one is going anywhere,” Kam said.

  “You aren’t in charge,” Jubilee fired back. “We’ve done just fine this entire time without you, and we’ll do just as well on our own.” She grabbed Brak’s wrist with two hands and led him away. “Come on, Brak. We’ll do what we want.”

  “Jubilee. Brak. Come back here,” Kam said.

  “They don’t have anywhere to go.” Fogle offered his elbow. “Come, let’s get the spell book. We’ll talk soon, Mood, if you’ll excuse us.”

  With the cigar in his fingers and his eyes on the table, Mood waved them off.

  As soon as Fogle and Kam passed through the flap, they ran right into Cass. The druid’s eyes became daggers when she saw them arm in arm. “You foul, wretched cheater!”

  CHAPTER 6

  Cass stormed by Brak and Jubilee. Her fists were balled up at her sides. She cut through one of the narrow passes in the Columns and disappeared among the rocks.

  “I wonder what her problem is,” Jubilee said.

  “Maybe we should find out,” Brak replied.

  Jubilee gave him a look. “Why?”

  “I have an idea.” He led the way through the narrow pass. He turned his shoulders as they brushed against the jagged rocks then popped out on the other side. Dwarves milled about in a busy military order in a broad space that separated the Columns. Not a single dwarven eye passed over them. Brak pointed. “There she is.”

  Blackie was nestled against the rocks. Chongo lay beside the dragon, looking like no more than a puppy. Cass was talking to both creatures. The dragon looked away. Chongo’s stiff tails wagged. The pooch’s left head panted with his tongue out, and the right head’s ears perked up. Quickster lay nearby, on his back, asleep.

  “You think she’s beautiful, don’t you?” Jubilee said.

  “Will you stop with the jealousy? I don’t understand that. I just want to fly on the back of that dragon again.” He gave Jubilee’s little body a shove. “Come on.”

  “Are you sure that’s it?”

  “Yes. I told you, I have an idea.”

  “You have an idea? Like what kinda idea? Most of yours involve some form of eating.”

  “It’s not that, but I am a bit hungry.” Brak cleared his throat when they stood behind Cass, who was working on the buckles that fastened on Chongo’s armor.

  “What do you urchins want?”

  “Let me help you with that.” Brak unbuckled the straps on Chongo’s neck that were too high for Cass to reach. “I know he hates this dwarven link.” Several buckles and a few fierce tugs later, and Brak’s powerful arms were filled with the giant dog’s mail. “Feel better, Chongo?”

  Both heads of the beast licked his face.

  Scratching Chongo’s necks, Cass said, “You’re good with animals. I like that.”

  “Don’t like it too much,” Jubilee warned.

  “Ah, the little lady is a jealous one, like me, it seems. It’s a shameful attribute. So, tell me, young scoundrels, what do you want?”

  “I don’t want anything. Ask Brak,” Jubilee gave Cass’s exotic body a once-over, “but I’m pretty sure I could guess what he wants.”

  Cass walked over to Brak, crossed her arms over her chest, and looked up at him. “I’m curious. You really do want something, strapping one. What can I offer you?”

  Brak’s face lit up. “Can you and Blackie fly us over Bone and drop us in?”

  “Brak!” Jubilee said, “Have you gone mad?”

  “No, I’m just going with my gut.”

  Cass made an approving nod. “I like this youth. He thinks with his heart. This cursed world could use more men like him. Blackie, it’s time for flight.”

  Blackie buried his snout inside his wing.

  “Blackie!” Cass pounded on the dragon’s closed eyelid with h
er little fist. “I won’t be having any of this. I say it’s time to go, then it’s time to go. Besides, you’ll need feeding soon enough. I know you’re hungry.”

  The dragon’s lip curled back, revealing his great teeth. He growled.

  “What is with all of you men? Blackie, I’m not making any apologies. If anything, you are the one that should be apologizing to me for all of your inexcusable actions.”

  Brak and Jubilee gave each other surprised looks. The tiny woman arguing with a mammoth of a dragon was one of the oddest things they’d ever seen. Scratching the thick patch of blond hair on the top of his head, Brak said, “We can try later, Cass.”

  “No, don’t you go anywhere. I’m getting this sorted out right now.” The dragon’s earhole was about the size of Cass’s head. Rising up on her toes, she shouted into it. “Blackie, either you are my friend or you are not my friend. If you are my friend, who adores me as much as I adore you, you will follow my command. If not, then you should go and never come back. You know I don’t take kindly to being shunned by a man.”

  The dragon’s eyelid lifted, revealing an eye as bright as a yellow gemstone. His head pulled back out of his wing. Suspended by a muscular neck of coal-black scales, the dragon’s head passed over the top of all of them. Dragging his belly over the ground, he detached from the rocks he was hunkered in. He snorted a gust of hot air from his nostrils and spread his wings. With a sad roar, he pounded the air with his wings.

  Standing firm in the face of the gust, Brak caught Jubilee and Cass in his arms. Sand and grit stung his eyes as the dragon lifted off.

  Shielding her eyes, Cass yelled, “Don’t you dare, Blackie. Don’t you dare leave me!”

  The dragon rose up inside the sheer walls of the Columns, higher and higher. Blackie hovered at the top for a long moment, casting a backward glance as a shambling man in robes floated from the rocks onto the dragon’s back.

  “No!” Cass said.

  The darkened silhouette of Boon hung in the sky. The old wizard waved down at them. The dragon flew higher in the air, caught the wind under his wings, and faded from sight.

  Sobbing into her hands, Cass sank to her knees. “No, no, no, he abandoned me.”

  “Great, there goes our ride,” Jubilee said.

  Brak nudged her.

  “What? Bish is no place for crying.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Ebenezer Kling rapped his knuckles on the door to Manamus’s quarters. The door unlatched and swung inward. He entered the drab room whose stony walls didn’t have a single drape, framed picture, or any other sort of decoration. The fireplace was cold and the portal windows closed. Hundreds of candles lit the room, glowing with an unnatural green flame. The other furnishings were sparse. Manamus rocked back and forth on a black rocking chair, its narrow legs and spindles creaking as she knit with black and copper yarn. Her hands moved impossibly fast, the tips of her knitting needles clicking together with intricate precision. He closed the door behind him.

  “How are you, Mother?”

  “I miss Cletus.” The wrinkles around her lips hardened. “I never realized I cared for people until I saw them gored before my eyes. It gave me perspective.”

  Ebenezer sauntered over to the lone bed and sat down on the edge. There weren’t any other chairs, just a few chests and drawers and a wardrobe. “Yes, loyal soldiers are difficult to replace, especially when we’ve been breeding them for centuries. It’s not very likely that we will be replacing them anytime soon. Or ever, for that matter.”

  The clicking of the knitting needles stopped. “Losing your guts already?”

  Noting the flicker in his mother’s hard eye, he said, “Just making sure that you weren’t losing yours. I’m unaccustomed to my mother having a soft spot for servants.”

  “Cletus was more than a servant.”

  Ebenezer didn’t care to explore what she meant by the comment. His mother had her ways, wise, wooly, and wizardly. He never had a fancy for the dark arts that she draped herself in. He’d always disappointed her in that. “I’m most worried about Rayal. It’s been impossible getting word from the other houses. I can only assume that they’ve all been gutted the same as ours. Do you think that you could…find her?”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Her knitting resumed.

  “What are you making?” He stretched his long arm out and lifted up the end of the woven cloth.

  “A noose.”

  “It’s a very nice noose.” He rubbed the soft fabric between his fingers. “I’m not here for a social visit. We are summoned to the arena, again.”

  “I’m almost finished,” she said, still rocking back and forth.

  “We need to be prompt.”

  “They can wait!” A spider scurried by her feet. She stopped rocking and stomped on it. She resumed her rocking and finished knitting a few minutes later. She hung the scarf over her neck and shoulders. Sticking the knitting needles in the arm of the rocker, she stood up. “Let’s go.”

  Standing, Ebenezer offered his arm.

  Manamus locked her cold hands around his elbow. “You were always a disappointment, but at least you’re tall and handsome.”

  “Thank you, Mother, but please, don’t soften me up with compliments.” The door opened and closed by an unseen force as they passed through. “I need to be harder than an anvil’s edge.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  ***

  Ebenezer and Manamus sat underneath the stained-glass dome framed in copper. A small arena with bench seats that could hold several hundred people encircled the pit. The pits were commonplace in the royal castles, where they held training, ceremonies, and tournaments. They sat in the lower rows with underling soldiers posted behind them. Master Sinway was present, along with Elypsa and her mate, Kuurn. They sat in the top rows behind Ebenezer’s left shoulder. His eyes sought after Elypsa more than once during the fights.

  “Stop staring at that succubus,” Manamus warned. “She’ll burn your eyes out.”

  “Stab them out is more likely,” he said, remembering the lone time he’d sparred with her. The sword mistress could have gutted him but didn’t. “She’s a marvel for such a small creature. Those sensuous arms are as strong as a man’s. Her strokes glide and sing. A truly amazing thing. I couldn’t perish to a more formidable opponent.”

  Manamus rolled her eyes and sighed.

  Inside the circle, a bare-chested man stood with a spear in hand. Young and strapping, he trembled as an underling came in through the tunnel entrance. The underling walked in with a swagger, carrying a spear. The wiry muscles in its bare chest bulged. The young man swallowed hard.

  “This is going to be a slaughter,” Manamus said. “Again.”

  The stone mosaic pit floor was stained in blood and covered with dirt and dust. Weapon racks stood along the rim. At floor level along the wall was a set of stairs that led down into a dugout ,where more men were lined up.

  An underling commander entered the ring from the tunnel wearing blackened plate-mail armor. His eyes burned ruby red. He stepped between the two contestants and inspected their weapons. With a nod, he faced Master Sinway and bowed. He turned, backed between the weapons racks, and let out a sharp chit.

  The underling and man touched spear heads, backed off, and circled. The wary-eyed human jabbed his spear in the underling’s direction with shaky arms. The quick-footed underling shook his shoulders, chittering in mockery. The strapping man shuffled a step, half jabbed, pulled back, and counterattacked. The underling slid his neck out of the way at the last split second. The underling sprang back and let out a vile hiss.

  The underling charged. He sidestepped his opponent’s striking tip and jabbed the man deep in the chest. The underling plunged the spear point into the dying man several times. Blood leaked onto the floor. Flinging blood from his spear, the underling fist tapped his chest a few times.

  Another man was ordered into the pit by the underling commander. The man hustled into the arena, grabbed the dead
man by the arms, and dragged him away, leaving a swash of fresh blood on the floor.

  Elypsa came down the stairs and called the underling pit commander over. “You call this entertainment? These fights are horrible. I expect better for the grander games we will be hosting.”

  “You will have them,” the pit commander said. He glanced at Ebenezer. “Soon.”

  CHAPTER 8

  “You can’t be serious, Venir,” Melegal said. He was back inside the Drunken Octopus. The smoke haze lingered around the group. “You’ll be chopped to bits.”

  Venir’s chair groaned when he sat and rested his big forearms on the table. “I’m trusting my gut on this. If Altan Rey can get me into Castle Kling, as he says, I can get close enough to take down Sinway.”

  “Assuming that you can trust Altan Rey,” Melegal said. “And there is no guarantee that you won’t wind up at the gallows. There’s nothing the underlings wouldn’t like more than to see a big man like you swinging. They’ll dance and chitter in the streets.”

  “They’re looking for me, and it’s only a matter of time before they close in. They’ve busted open every door in Bish.” Venir finger tapped a knot of wood on the table. “They won’t be looking for me inside the castles. Besides, I can’t just let these people be slaughtered. It needs to end now.”

  “And the dwarves?” Creed asked.

  “We’re still going to let them in or die trying. Hoff will see to that. Just be ready to see those banners fly from the windows of Castle Kling’s towers. Melegal, you can take care of that?”

  “Me?”

  “You’re going in too.” Venir eyed his cap. “Your services will be needed in there.” He turned to Billip and Nikkel. “I need you two to return to the Black Columns. Let Mood know what we’ve planned. You can handle getting out again, can’t you?”

  Popping his knuckles one finger at a time, Billip said, “Need you ask?”

  “You see, Melegal, it’s all going to work out.” Venir quaffed down a mouthful of ale. “The Octopus will be free of underlings soon enough.”