The Darkslayer: Book 01 - Wrath of the Royals

by Craig Halloran

  “Well, Quickster’s a stupid name. He should be called Poopster.”

  “Enough!”

  The land south of the city was mostly clay, dirt and rocks, vegetated with cacti and thick thatches of thistles. It was flat and the footing was hard. The suns burned front and back on a day like this. The Outlands offered little comfort to those who were ill prepared.

  Not much was to be encountered between cities or villages, except in the cool of the evening. Bandits knew the pickings on the trails were riskier at night, but that was when they came. During the day the dreaded, blistering heat of the suns helped to protect travelers. Still, day or night, you could never get comfortable. That was when the bandits watched and laid there traps. Many wearied travelers perished under their desperate steel. It was only one of many terrors to be encountered in the Outlands.

  The two hadn’t traveled far when they came upon a dry well with sparse vegetation. The cacti were abundant, it was good fortune. Venir found a nice round cactus, lopped off the top, and started pulling out the watery pulp and feeding it to Chongo. Georgio did the same for Quickster. In the distance, the City of Bone hovered like a mirage, wavering in the sunlight like a ghostly castle. His intense eyes squinted towards it. Georgio, soaked in sweat, grabbed a waterskin and gulped it down.

  Venir went to one of his large sacks and pulled out two beige cotton cowls.

  “Put this on your head. It’ll keep you from frying.”

  It had been over an hour and Melegal was nowhere in sight.

  “Bloody thief’s gonna be late,” he muttered to himself. “I told him he was getting rusty.”

  “Rusty? I’ve been following you for an hour,” a voice shot from behind. “I just couldn’t decide who I would kill first.”

  Venir turned around, grinning. The thief was dressed in tones as drab as the landscape, hands on polished steels at his hips.

  “Well, maybe I was wrong. Any news?”

  “I moved the body, covered the tracks. There was a stir as I left the stables. The City Watch filed in with some Royals. I thought I saw a familiar face from the Chimera, but I recognized no one else. But you can bet your ears they’ll be looking for us for a long time coming. He wasn’t alone, I’m sure.”

  Melegal turned back towards the city and waved.

  “Good-bye nice apartment. Good-bye easy life.”

  As the wind whipped across their faces Venir began thinking out loud.

  “Who could’ve seen us? I know Tonio’s father knows what I look like and a few guards too, but I seriously doubt—”

  “—you know as well as I, not a man in all of Bone can hide forever when he’s on the list. All you can hope is that we don’t make the list. But now that Chongo’s turned one of their own into a chew toy— I’m pretty sure we are on that list!”

  Venir kept his own discomforting thoughts to himself. All that trouble over him was excessive, even for a Royal.

  Melegal snatched the waterskin from Georgio’s hand.

  “I don’t understand why that Royal brat Tonio even conceived of coming after you? Usually, they get their dirty work done for them. It was insane!”

  “Maybe we became pawns in something bigger, Me. The Royals like doing one another in.”

  “My gut’s telling me the same, but there is no evidence.”

  The thief rinsed the grit from his mouth.

  “Not that they need it. That’s why I gotta get my happy arse out of Bone!”

  Venir tried to sound reassuring.

  “One way or the other, they were coming after us. So don’t sweat it. At least we didn’t get cornered in the city. We’ll hole up in the Two-Ten City. We’ll be okay there; they hate Bone.”

  The thief shook his head.

  “Oh great! Orcs and bad wine. I can’t wait. So what then? Are we taking fat boy home, then heading south like the good old days?”

  “Well, I guess you’re coming after all!” Venir said.

  “Why not? I’ve nothing to live for anymore, might as well die trying to live.”

  “Who’re you calling fat boy?” Georgio said through his pouty lips.

  “You!” the men said.

  They loaded up as Georgio hopped onto Chongo’s back behind Venir. Despite their quick pace, it was a long, hot ride towards Georgio’s home village, which hosted some of the richest soil on Bish. It was just dusk when the small party finally stopped, just inside the shadowy edge of the treacherous Red Clay Forest.

  CHAPTER 28

  Lords Catten and Verbard floated at attention as another underling hovered before the hanging humans. Catten’s icy heart was working overtime. Master Sinway had arrived. The master of all underlings was dark-robed, hawk-nosed, and not so different than his brethren. Still, Master Sinway’s greater height and breadth distinguished him from all others. He made Catten feel small.

  Iron colored irises outlined Master Sinway’s black pupils that glinted like cut coal. The underling master permeated the wisdom of an endless river. His thick black robes were traced in exquisite patterns flecked with traces of silver and rust. Oh, how Catten craved the magic he could feel permeating from those clothes. Master Sinway turned, catching his eye, causing him to look down and away. He could feel his brother Verbard, fidgeting at this side.

  As ancient as Master Sinway was, one would never know it. His face was broad and hairless, more like a human. His hair was black and short, hanging just below his ears. His thin lips hid small, flat gray teeth, and his hands were large, black-knuckled, and hairless. The underlings changed little after their adolescence, but as they aged, the more refined they became. This was true in Master Sinway’s case. He was the ancient, omnipotent, polished version of the rest. As underlings grew in age and power, they also grew in height and stature. Master Sinway was the tallest of them all.

  Master Sinway was not alone. Catten’s golden gaze fell on two of the most impressive sights in the Underland, known as the Vicious. The Vicious stood flat on the ground only a few feet from the master underling. The imposing pair was black and genderless.

  Catten had seen them only a handful of times over the centuries. He began digging his nails into his palms. The Vicious were as tall on the ground as he was floating. Why are they here? He could see their heavy muscles ripple underneath their hairless, leather-like skin. Catten recalled a time when one Vicious twisted an imprisoned gnolls head from its skull. An unwelcome tingle raced down his spine.

  The Vicious were unlike underlings, they had round, cat-like faces with long, pointed ears, and small noses with flared nostrils. The Vicious were known to track prey for leagues on scent alone. Thick, claw-like black fingernails came to points, like five small daggers on each hand. Wide platinum eyes without lashes shone bright under their protruding brows. Their countenances revealed the cool intelligence of predators. Their lips were turned up in a sinister sneer. Pain and destruction. That is what Catten thought of them. He watched as the pair moved, silent and fluid, over the cave water that mixed with dripping human blood. They were difficult to see against the cavernous background. These great assassins were heralded throughout the Underland as legends of death.

  Catten recalled the stories he had heard of them. The Vicious were nameless creations of the ancient underling ways, possibly as old as Sinway himself. Sinway was believed to have been an apprentice to the underling Master Sidebor. Master Sidebor was the greatest of all underlings back then, and he had created them from a blend of man, underling, and magic. Sidebor was believed to have perished in long past centuries in a great battle believed to have been against Sinway. No underling knew for sure what had caused the demise of Sidebor. He was certain Sinway knew the truth. The evidence casting suspicion on Sinway was the powerful magic robe he wore. It too had been Sidebor’s. Of course, as far as he was concerned, Sidebor could still be alive, for his body had never been found.

  If Catten’s brother Verbard was as uncomfortable as him he didn’t show it. Verbard’s head was looking up and down, fingers twit
ching like a bored child. Catten hoped his brother could keep his mouth shut, just this once. Tension continued its slow descent up his neck. After several uncomfortable minutes, the master of all underlings spoke.

  “A nice piece of humanity you have.”

  Catten was surprised as his masters ancient voice was almost reassuring. Master Sinway floated toward the bleeding humans as his black index fingers ignited into sharp blue flames.

  “Perhaps, a few finishing touches.”

  Master Sinway drew agonizing symbols into the men’s burning flesh. Muffled sounds became screams as one man tore through the flesh of his sewn lips. Deep gashes opened all over their bodies, singeing blood and entrails, and more streams of blood, mixed with sweat, trickled beneath Sinway’s floating feet.

  “Much better,” Sinway said, adding a mild chuckle as he blew out his fingers.

  Catten was clapping in unison with his brother, sharp teeth barred wide. Sinway cut their efforts off with a short cut with his hand, his iron eyes sliding back and forth between the two.

  “So, what have you to report about the world above? I gather our troops have been … oh, how should I put it—diminished!”

  Catten felt like he was hit in the stomach, doubling over as heavy drops of water and debris fell from the stalactites above. He wanted to slither away. Instead, he pulled his tongue down from the roof of his mouth and began to speak, but Verbard beat him.

  “All is fine, Master Sinway. The troublemakers have been vanquished and our troops are in good order.”

  Catten couldn’t believe his ears. Idiot!

  “Really, Verbard?”

  Master Sinway was standing inches from Verbard’s face and Catten could feel his master’s cool breath.

  “The last I heard, a few score raiding parties perished a few weeks ago—and two score just before that!”

  The drops began to fall again as Catten covered his queasy stomach with his arms.

  “So, how do you consider the problem to be resolved Verbard!?”

  Master Sinway’s face was taunt with fury.

  Don’t say a word Verbard. Catten knew the numbers were even greater, but he had no desire to admit to that.

  In all of his centuries alongside Master Sinway, Catten had never seen him more angered. The time to grovel had come. Verbard dropped to his knees, robes dangling in the stream below.

  “My lord, we did not know—”

  Verbard was lying, but Catten kneeled alongside his brother anyway.

  “—we have been so busy with other projects. We were assured that the problem was taken care of.”

  Verbard’s voice was stammering. Catten had seen the soft ploy before, he didn’t care for it, but it worked.

  “Shut up, Verbard! I am no fool. You two have never failed me.”

  Catten pulled himself into a tighter ball, ready for his master to lash out any second. He caught Verbard’s silver eyes for a split second. The fool was smiling. Shut up!

  Sinway’s tone softened a hair as he said, “This situation is unusual, but it is not the first time this has happened.” There was a pause, and Catten swore he had heard a sigh coming from Sinway.

  “It seems our troops and run-of-the-mill soldiers are no match for this Darkslayer. He kills with less mercy than we … and he hunts us down!”

  A stalactite fell to the cave floor. Sinway’s ancient voice was almost a yell.

  “No one dares to hunt the underlings!”

  Catten expected the cave to collapse as more debris fell on and around them.

  “Anyway, I am dispatching the Vicious to finish the task you have clearly mismanaged.”

  What? Catten’s golden eyes were as wide as saucers, as well were his brothers. He tilted his head upward, eyes still down.

  Sinway started talking again.

  “Assuming this Darkslayer works alone, he will be unable to handle the Vicious. None has ever lived to see the Vicious another day.”

  Catten watched as Sinway’s robes billowed and floated away. As he looked up the Vicious and Sinway were gone without another word. Sinway’s words lingered in his mind. I am dispatching the Vicious. Catten stood back up, along his brother’s side as the two faced one another with evil grins. He knew what Verbard was thinking. With the Vicious gone, Sinway would be at his most vulnerable. But it was only a whim; Catten knew that even together they were still no match for him. Yet the thought was pleasurable.

  “Do you think this solves our problem?” Catten asked.

  “I don’t know, but it’s one less burden. That Darkslayer is a pain in my bollards. The Vicious are going … incredible.” Verbard was bobbing his head. “Now we will learn what we are really dealing with.”

  “I imagine so. It should be a great battle. What do you think Master Sinway meant by ‘It is not the first time this has happened?’” Catten asked, searching his brother’s eyes.

  “I don’t know, but I’m not sure he intended to let that out.”

  Catten agreed. Sinway knew something he didn’t want to share. He shuttered as he looked at the fallen rocks on the floor. The fact they both were unharmed was astounding. Sinway didn’t become the master of all underlings because of mercy. Whatever the Darkslayer was, it had Sinway concerned. It had Catten concerned as well. Stay or go.

  The two magi lords floated away, abandoning their dead human masterpiece. Cave rats scurried forth, nipping into the succulent human nutrition, rather than the crisp caves bugs that always fought back.

  CHAPTER 29

  Venir awoke just as the suns light cracked over the horizon and warmed his face. He sat up and stepped onto the grassy edge of the Red Clay Forest. He could hear the chittering of small creatures, bouncing among the tree tops, rustling in the branches above. Shade and food were in abundance just inside the forest, but danger lurked in there as well. Venir thought about going around. Too long. Too hot. The suns would dry his companions out like twigs if they ran out of water. He was uneasy, hot and thirsty all of a sudden.

  He pulled Georgio off of the ground with a firm shake. The boy began rubbing his groggy eyes in his meaty fists and said, “I’m hungry.”

  Unlike the dry plains they had crossed the previous day, the forest appeared alive, eerie, and magnificent. But, travelers would risk the heat over the forest most of the time. The rough and uncertain terrain wasn’t made for wagon’s or slow footed folk. Still, Venir recognized the faint pathways with his experienced eye. They always seemed to move. He paced back and forth along the edge, knelt down, feeling the ground and peering ahead. A pair of large brown squirrels scurried in the distance. This would be it. He dusted his hands off.

  The Red Clay Forest was known for its inviting beauty, lush vegetation and delicious wildlife. Travelers didn’t pass through it for the view, no, most passed when there was little choice left. The inviting beauty was uncomfortable amid the odd serenity. Despite Venir’s misgivings, it was the fastest way to Georgio’s village that was on the other side of the forest.

  “I don’t wanna go into that filthy forest!” Melegal said as he packed up Quickster. “This grassy spot was dead quiet last night. I like dead quiet. Now bugs and vermin are gonna crawl all over me.” Melegal swatted at a mosquito bigger than his hand. “Bone!” he cursed. “How’d I get into this?”

  “Don’t worry Me, the bugs will leave you alone once they realize you’re made of stone,” Georgio said, smiling, and turning away. Melegal flung a stone, hitting the boy in the back of his head.

  “Ow!” Georgio cried, rubbing his head. “You didn’t need to do that.”

  The thief and the farm boy had been at each other without ceasing, and Venir had reached his limit.

  “Get your gear ready! This forest isn’t gonna make the trip any less miserable, so shut it, both of you!” He slung his pack over his shoulder and pulled Chongo along.

  It didn’t take but a few dozen steps before Venir felt like he was in another world. Georgio’s curly head was twisting up and down.

  “Wo
w!”

  The forest trees rose out of sight in many places and even the lowest branches were too high to reach. The leaves were an assortment of reds, greens, and blues. The leaves never fell from the trees inside Red Clay, unlike in other parts of Bish. It could not be explained; no one on Bish cared anyway. Why, never came to mind.

  They walked over the red clay and stepped through areas covered in various mosses, shrubbery and flowers of great beauty. Venir pulled Georgio away, who began picking at blackish berries on a thorny bush.

  “Poison,” Venir muttered.

  Georgio stuck his tongue out saying, “Yuck.”

  Step after step, Venir lead them down a narrow path without the rustle of leaves beneath their feet. It was as if the forest had been recently swept.

  Much of Venir’s time in the Outlands was spent here in the Red Clay Forest. He used it both as a safe haven and for shortcuts during his travels. Most people knew better than to be too curious about the forest, because too often the curious never came back out. The forest was risky, filled with violent natures of all sorts. At times the forest left Venir alone, and at other times it would not. It had been awhile since Venir traveled with company in the forest. He had never grown used to the unexpected here. Still, his knowledge of the shortcuts through the forest often threw the more experienced pursuers off his trail. The Red Clay Forest was one of the few uncontrolled areas of permanent habitation on the world of Bish. Not many people lived in the Red Clay Forest as it seemed to not like the company.