Bone Lord

by Dante King

  As the dying man staggered back, I stabbed Grave Oath backward over my shoulder into his belly to suck out his soul, and then, before the short guy could recover from the shock of accidentally hacking his buddy’s head off, I flicked two throwing stars—one with each hand—into each of his eyes.

  He screamed and dropped his blade, howling and clutching at his eyes as the necrotic enchantment, now doubled in intensity, spread grave rot across his face and head in seconds. While he was floundering and screaming, I sprang up onto my feet and spun around to pluck Grave Oath from the now-dead soldier’s belly. I was just in time to see my chief skeleton, Sarge, split an enemy in half, from the top of his skull all the way down to his nuts, with the paladin’s greatsword.

  “Nice one, Sarge!” I yelled. “But leave some damn souls for me, huh?”

  Sarge shrugged his skeletal shoulders and then charged off to continue fighting. I spun around to pick another target but saw the girl in black smashing a trooper with muscles like a bull’s on the head with her flail.

  “Damn it,” I muttered. “There aren’t gonna be any left for me!”

  Some distance away, I saw Fang biting the head off a huge one, and behind me, Elyse was throttling the life out of another, her rope of golden light wrapped tight around the grubby fool’s throat. I threw my hands up in the air; these people didn’t even need me here. Feeling dejected about the fact that I’d barely managed to capture any souls, I trudged over to the short guy—who was writhing in agony on the ground, his entire head and neck a uniform dark gray—and stuck Grave Oath listlessly into his heart. Watching his body convulse and then shrivel like a prune barely even put a smile on my face. The skirmish was over, and I’d only gotten two souls out of it.

  I walked over to Fang, who was munching contentedly on a soldier’s leg like a happy mutt with a bone, and scratched him behind his ear hole. His eyes glowed a little brighter in response, but he kept chewing.

  “You did well, buddy,” I said. “You’re quite something on the battlefield, I gotta say that. Try to leave a few more for me next time, though, huh?”

  He vibrated with a deep, weird rumble that could have meant “all right then,” and carried on eating the dead guy’s leg.

  Elyse was busy dusting her robe off, and my skeletons were all standing around idly. The woman in black walked up to me, her dark eyes in her full-face mask bright with energy and vigor and something else. Was she checking me out? I flashed her a charming smile and twirled Grave Oath with a flamboyant flourish.

  “Thank you for coming to my aid,” she said in her deceptively soft voice.

  “To be fair,” I said, “you might have done all right without us. But, you’re welcome. May I have the pleasure of knowing your name?”

  “You may call me Rami,” she answered.

  “I’m Vance, Lord of Brakith, at your service. And now, Rami,” I said in as suave a voice as I could manage, “could I have the pleasure of looking on your face?”

  Something like delight and mischief, colored with a flicker of danger, flashed across her eyes.

  “Usually, if someone who has seen me in my ai’tendar then sees my face, I have to kill them,” she said. “But for you, Soultaker, I’ll make an exception.”

  “Ai’tendar?”

  “The garb in which I am currently attired. The sacred fighting outfit of the enjarta.”

  “Ah,” I said, nodding knowingly. I’d heard of the enjarta of Yeng; they were an elite, highly secretive sect of warriors and assassins dedicated to the arts of stealth and espionage. They were also highly regarded in terms of fighting prowess, especially with unconventional weaponry and unarmored hand-to-hand combat. I never imagined I’d actually meet one, though. She remained quite silent, though she kept looking at me with those piercing eyes. I guessed I was probably intuitively leaving her space to ask for my name, but of course, she had already shown she knew who I was.

  “How do you know me?” I asked her, staring at her with sudden suspicion.

  “By reputation, of course. Word of your skill as an assassin has traveled far; yes, even across the Sea of Storms. I was not aware, though, that you were a necromancer as well as an assassin.” She stared fascinatedly at Fang and my gang of skeletons. “You’re quite an enigma, to be sure.”

  Rami immediately noticed the breadth of the proud grin spreading across my face.

  “But you, Soultaker, have nothing to do with my reason for being here,” she added hastily. “I have come to Erst to find Bishop Nabu.”

  Interesting. What did this tight-bodied, beautifully deadly young woman want with a scumbag like Nabu? I decided to hold back, for the moment, from revealing what our intentions with the bishop were.

  “You’ve almost found him, it would seem,” I commented casually. “So, what’s next? What is it about Bishop Nabu that has made you brave the Sea of Storms and travel all this way?”

  “He has something I want. Something of great value. Something he stole and that a foul man like him has no right to own. Something that the head of our sect sent me to take from him by whatever means necessary.”

  I nodded, my smile broadening; Rami was on our side.

  “You might be interested to know,” I said, “that my companions and I are also looking for Nabu. It seems that he has a bad habit of taking things that don’t belong to him. We’re here to take back something that was rightfully my friend’s. And me, personally, I’m looking to take Nabu’s most precious possession from him.”

  “And what might that be?”

  “His soul,” I answered, tracing my fingertip along Grave Oath’s edge and staring at the effigy of Isu on the hilt. “Anyway, before we get into that, you did tell me you were going to make an exception to your deadly habit and show me your face.”

  She laughed, a sound that made me instantly weak in the knees; it was a ridiculously sexy laugh, and this only made me more eager to see the face of the kind of woman who could make such a sound.

  “All right,” she said, and I figured she was smiling beneath her headgear. “But don’t you dare tell the leader of my sect about this if you ever meet him”

  “See these lips? They’re sealed like a demon’s tomb.”

  Rami let out another of her beguiling laughs, and I grinned; making this enjarta let out that enticing sound was a pretty addictive activity.

  She pulled the mask off her face and shook out her hair, which tumbled like a glorious torrent of black ink around her slim, toned shoulders. The face that greeted me was just as gorgeous as I had expected it to be. Her features were extremely feminine, almost delicately so. Quite amusing, given the bloody carnage I had just seen her cause. If I hadn’t just seen this girl in action, I would never have believed that a woman with features like these could be a cold-blooded killer.

  Her dark eyes, set at an attractive angle beneath slim, gently arched brows, were the jewels of her face, but everything else on it came a very close second. She had a cute little button nose, high, prominent cheekbones, and a rosebud of a mouth with full, dark lips that I could imagine, very vividly, wrapping themselves around my rock-hard—

  “I’m glad to see you’re safe!”

  I turned and looked at Elyse and saw her subtly examining Rami with a look that was an equal blend of curiosity and jealousy.

  “I’m grateful for your help,” the Yengishwoman said. “I’m Rami, by the way.”

  “Elyse. Pleased to meet you, even under such circumstances.”

  The two of them shook hands, and I watched, amused, as looks of icy cattiness flashed across each of their faces.

  “Vance,” said Elyse, immediately vying for my attention, “I think you should come over here.”

  What was this? Was she already trying to get me away from Rami? Was this jealousy I was observing? Either way, it was quite fun to see the two of them duke it out over me.

  “Why?”

  “I kept one soldier alive for us to question.”

  I craned my neck to look past Elyse
and saw that one of her ethereal ropes was still trailing behind her. It led to the man she’d been throttling, and he still had the end of the rope coiled around his throat. He was lying on the ground, breathing raggedly, his face purple and his swollen tongue sticking out of his mouth. It seemed that Elyse really had taken him to the brink of death before letting him take a step back for just a moment.

  “Good thinking,” I said. “Let’s see what this asshole has to say.”

  I walked over to the soldier, with Elyse and Rami following closely behind me. I squatted down next to him and pulled his dagger out of its sheath on his hip. I held it in my left hand while gripping Grave Oath in my right. The man, still choking and coughing and drooling from the throttling he’d received from Elyse’s ethereal rope, looked up at me with eyes bulging with fear.

  “You’re Soultaker, aren’t you?” he managed to rasp.

  “Indeed, I am,” I said. “And if you’ve heard of me, I’m pretty sure you’ve heard of this.” I dangled Grave Oath over his face.

  He nodded slowly, his terrified eyes locked on the blade.

  “Good,” I said, smiling coldly. “So, I don’t need to explain what this blade will do to you if I stick it in you.”

  He shook his head and swallowed slowly. His eyes never left the blade.

  “You’re going to die,” I said calmly. “Here, in this vineyard, in a minute or two. The only question is this: will it be a quick, painless death from this weapon?” I held the man’s own dagger in front of his face. “Or will I decide to put you through hell before I send you there, with this?” I dangled Grave Oath in front of his eyes. “The answer to that question depends on how truthfully you answer what I’m about to ask you. Do you understand?”

  The soldier gulped and nodded vigorously.

  “Excellent. Well, where to start? Ah, yes. Where can we find Bishop Nabu?”

  “He’s usually in his chambers in the cathedral in the town of Erst.”

  “I suspected that would be the case. Does he venture out of his chambers much?”

  “No. Especially not in recent times. He fears for his life, suspects a plot against him. He stays safe in the cathedral. Many soldiers and guards are protecting him. Hundreds of them.”

  “See, that’s the thing about stealing power rather than earning it,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “Sure, you get the good stuff quick and easy, but then, you’re always on edge, always paranoid about someone else doing to you what you did to your victim. Humph, well, it serves that fat, wine-swilling piece of shit right. He doesn’t deserve a moment of peace. Okay, next question: why have you and your asshole friends enslaved these people?”

  “Bishop Nabu ordered it. He said it was a great way to increase profits. No need to pay laborers, and force them to work twice as hard. Double production at half the cost. It just made economic sense, Nabu said.”

  I laughed mirthlessly and shook my head. “Wow. Just wow. He’s a real swell guy, Bishop Nabu, isn’t he? Slavery. Why not? It’s good for profits! I can’t wait to sink my blade into his flabby neck. I can’t fuckin’ wait. Now, third question: surely even a thick-headed moron like you knows that slavery is wrong and that what Nabu is doing here is fucked up. So, why did you and your goon buddies go along with it? And don’t give me that ‘I was just following orders’ crap. You look me in the eye and tell me why the fuck you, yes, you personally, thought it was okay.”

  “I didn’t ask questions like those; I just did what I was told,” rasped the man. Then, his mouth curled into an evil smile. “You wanted the truth from me, right?”

  “That’s what I asked for, yes.”

  “Well, I didn’t oppose Nabu because the girls on this farmlands are pretty, and when they’re slaves, we can just kill them if they fight back.”

  I chuckled dryly. “I’ve heard enough. Say goodbye, asshole.”

  I tossed the man’s dagger aside and gripped Grave Oath in both hands, and his eyes bulged with sudden terror.

  “No! You said you wouldn’t use it if I—please!”

  “I know what I said,” I hissed, “but sometimes, rarely, a lie is justified. When the call of justice speaks louder, for instance. You don’t deserve a quick death. Fuck you!”

  I plunged the dagger into his chest and watched as the enchanted dagger sucked his soul out of his writhing, screaming body. I waited until he was as withered as an old raisin before plucking Grave Oath out of his chest.

  “At least we know where Nabu is now,” I said to Rami and Elyse.

  “Soultaker,” said Rami, “may I journey with you to Nabu’s cathedral? This man said that it’s heavily guarded. Perhaps it would be beneficial to both of us if we were to help each other.”

  “As long as you promise to let me kill him,” I said. “You can take whatever it is of Nabu’s you’re after, but his soul is mine.”

  “I can agree to such terms.”

  I turned to Elyse, wondering how she was feeling about this stunning Yengish woman tagging along. Just as I looked at her, I managed to catch her giving Rami a cold, sidelong glance. But she covered her near-open jealousy so quickly with a warm, friendly smile that I was left wondering if I’d actually seen anything negative in her eyes at all.

  “I think,” said Elyse, preempting my question, “that it would be wonderful to have some female company on this journey. You know, to balance out the excess of masculinity,” she added, rolling her eyes.

  “Hey, it’s not my problem that you’re so used to being around pansy-ass clergymen who faint at the sight of a papercut that you can’t handle the presence of a real man. But anyway, I guess that settles it. Rami, you’re welcome to join us. Just remember what we agreed to: Nabu’s soul is mine.”

  “The joy of ending the fat wine-sot’s life will be yours, and yours alone,” said Rami solemnly. “I swear this on the honor of my sect.”

  “Thanks. Now, though, we have another problem to worry about. This shriveled-up asshole said there are hundreds of soldiers guarding the cathedral. We have to get the three of us, a couple of skeleton warriors, and a zombie lizard inside the cathedral grounds without being seen. How are we gonna do this?”

  It was Elyse who eventually came up with an idea.

  “You know,” she said, “it’s about the time of year that they start to deliver the wine made in this vineyard to the towns, in barrels.”

  “So, what are you saying, we hide in wine barrels?” I asked. “That’s all well and good for us and the skeletons, but for him,” I said, pointing at Fang, “there’s no wine barrel on the planet that’s big enough.”

  “Not in wine barrels—wine carts. The wine carts we use in Erst are huge; they’re big, covered wagons pulled by teams of oxen. We always preferred to transport one large, bulk shipment of wine instead of going back and forth with many small deliveries. The carts are big enough for that lizard thing, trust me. And the rest of us too. As long as we can convince the driver to help us—”

  “Oh, I think I’ll be able to ‘convince’ him pretty quickly,” I said, grinning and twirling Grave Oath slowly in my hand. “Don’t you worry about that.”

  “All right,” said Elyse. “Well, let’s not waste any more time. Come, follow me; the wagon for this vineyard should be around the back of the manor.”

  We followed Elyse, skirting around the edges of the vineyard and keeping just inside the woods so that the sight of a bunch of walking skeletons and a giant zombie lizard wouldn’t alarm the laborers. Soon enough, we got within sight of the manor house and saw that a massive wagon was, indeed, parked around the back with a large team of oxen already hitched to it. Laborers were busy loading it with barrels of wine; it looked like we had arrived at exactly the right time.

  “Okay,” I said, cracking my knuckles and stretching my neck, “I’ll go ahead and do some ‘convincing,’ and then—”

  “Wait, wait,” said Elyse, peering through the falling dusk at the overseer. “I know the manager. He was one of the few men who supported me and wh
o didn’t believe Bishop Nabu’s lies about me. Let me talk to him. I think I can convince him to help us. And when I say ‘convince,’ I actually mean convince.”

  “What about the two soldiers standing on either side of him?” I asked. “They’re wearing Church of Light tabards. They’re obviously Nabu’s men. I don’t think they’re going to be as happy to see you as your buddy the manager will be.”

  “Hmm, yeah, you might be right. They could be a problem. Let’s get a bit closer and check things out. Maybe, um… get your lizard and skeletons to wait here, though.”

  “His name is Fang, okay?” I said, giving Fang an affectionate scratch behind his ear hole. “But yeah, I’ll leave him here.”

  The three of us crept through the vineyard, staying hidden behind the grape vines. Eventually, we got close enough to the wagons to eavesdrop.

  “Get these stupid peasants to hurry up,” one of the soldiers growled at the manager, who was a portly, middle-aged fellow with an expansive gut and a shiny, bald head. “Bishop Nabu is expecting his wine by midnight, and it’s a three-hour ride in this slow-ass wagon.”

  “They’re going as quickly as they can,” protested the manager. “You do realize that these wine barrels are heavy, don’t you?”

  “Quit your bellyaching, you fat git, unless you want me to pull more of your teeth out with my rusty pliers!” snapped the soldier. “Make your idiots work faster, or I’ll break another one of your fingers!”

  “Yes, yes, okay, okay,” whimpered the manager. “Just don’t… don’t hurt me again, please.”