Melegal watched as the unpleasant song and dance continued between as the ugly forest mage and Venir. He could see Venir’s cold blue eyes burning under his helmet. Venir’s feet were shuffling back and forth as he made clumsy swings at the magi. Melegal began to worry again as the other magi voices became louder. He noticed a thick root rise from beneath the dirt, tripping Venir, forcing the man to one knee. As the big warrior faltered, his tormentor took advantage of the moment by muttering a spell. Melegal signaled to Georgio. Now!
The tiny mage’s lips began to shimmer as more roots began to burst from the ground.
Whoosh-Thunk!
The magi’s next word was stifled with a stone, broken teeth and the taste of blood. The forest mage sputtered toward the ground with an anguished groan, trying to spit out the stone. Melegal watched in awe as Venir slung Brool as if shot from a heavy crossbow, its spike tip penetrating the magi’s sternum. The weightless man was flung backward and pinned to a mighty Red Forest tree.
Whoosh-Thunk!
Georgio’s sling stone crushed the temple of the leading mage, who collapsed onto the hard forest ground with a thud. It all happened so fast that the other magi watched in disbelief. The roots they summoned began to seep back into the clay ground.
Venir leapt over to the tree and plucked the hat from the dangling mage’s head and tossed it away. Somehow the strange mage lived, still struggling to spit out the stone. Melegal watched Venir clutch the handle of his weapon, brace his leg on the mage’s chest and jerk it free. The thief couldn’t control his wince. Venir then whipped the blade in a full circle and severed the ugly mage’s head from his body.
The lifeless head floated away from its body, leaving a trail of red blood bubbles in the air.
The others!
When Melegal looked for the forest magi they were beginning to flee. Venir then took the flat of his great axe and batted the floating head at the rest of the pack. The head smacked into a tree and dropped to the ground.
Today, the forest bullies had lost.
“That was awesome!” yelled Georgio.
“Here.” Venir tossed Melegal his hat. “You should wash it.”
Melegal sniffed the hat, scowled and jammed it into his pocket.
“Thanks,” Venir added, slinging the blood from his dripping axe. “I don’t think the forest magi will mess with you two again.”
“Yeah, because next time they won’t just get a few sling bullets,” Melegal said, pulling out a small knife, “but the whole battle package.”
Georgio and Venir huffed a laugh.
Melegal allowed himself a grin.
“Now let’s find a creek so I can wash my hat,” Melegal said.
“Sure, sure, Me.”
Venir stopped and looked around.
“Hey, where’s Chongo?”
Georgio offered the answer saying, “Melegal left them.”
The warrior turned on Melegal with a deep frown.
“You what!?”
CHAPTER 34
A small army of slaughterer’s traveled at a rapid pace from the great caves of the Underland. Five squads, with twelve heavily armed underlings each, cut through the brush. They were the Badoon underlings, each well known for their stealth, skill, and tactics.
The Badoon were the most sinister warriors in the underling world. This Badoon Brigade, in particular, had been battle tested time after time over the decades. Many of them bore scars from the wrath of the Darkslayer. The stories of the surviving Badoon inspired the other cold-hearted soldiers as they marched across the land like a black caterpillar.
The Badoon were armored in dark leathers, stud, and mail. Weapons jangled at their hips as the glimmer of blackened steel revealed curved blades, knives, swords, dagger’s and crossbows. Some of the dark faces chittered from underneath cloaks. Others were brazen with shaved heads, bodies bare and long clawed hands hanging at their sides.
It was night and the barren fields of cacti that lay between the dark, hairy little race and the nameless mountains of Bish did little to slow their pace. The towering Vicious led the Badoons with great vigor. Many of the underlings followed mile after mile, day and night, on blistering feet.
A couple of the soldiers stumbled along the way, drawing off their boots of hide, wrapping bloodied feet. As they returned to the column the Vicious barred their way. The Vicious snapped their necks and mounted their heads on spears at the fore and aft of the column. It was gruesome sight, unless you were an underling. For an underling, it was a great honor to die at the hands of a Vicious. The sacrifice left the Badoon Brigade feeling as invincible as ever and they picked up the pace.
They had lost more than enough men to the Darkslayer, and they all shared in the hatred for this enemy of their kind. In the past their numbers never seemed to be enough. The Darkslayer had foiled them time and again. But this time the odds would be in greater favor of the underlings. Their time for vengeance had come. The Vicious had never lost.
CHAPTER 35
Venir was hoofing it through the forest as Melegal and Georgio struggled to keep up from behind.
Venir yelled over his shoulder.
“You’d better hope Chongo hasn’t eaten yer little pony!”
“You’d better hope he hasn’t, either,” Melegal said, under his breath.
Georgio was bouncing in and out of the trees, mimicking the now perished forest mage.
“Nya, nya …you can’t catch me,” the boy said, waving a handkerchief over his head. “I’m the goofy magic moron and I’m too fast for you.”
Georgio attempted to float by leaping upward, clutching at branches, only to fall on his butt. The boy broke out in giggles’ as he pretended to impale himself to a tree with a stick. Melegal and Venir continued to storm ahead while Georgio looked around scratching his head.
“Hey … wait up!” the boy said, tripping and falling, before getting on track again.
Venir was a several yards from the clearing when he squatted down. He smelled something. Closing his eyes he focused on the sound of the mounts. Melegal was at his side, swatting the winded Georgio on the back of the head.
Venir motioned for them to follow. Melegal nodded, towing Georgio by the shirt cuff behind him. Venir crept toward the clearing; Brool was clutched in his hand. He came to a stop and coiled like a big ape ready to spring. His eyes grazed back and forth. Ahead, Quickster and Chongo seemed undisturbed, each lay in a thick patch of tall grass.
What is that smell? It was driving him crazy.
Chongo’s head and ears perked up over the grass, the dogs fat paws began stamping. Chongo began to howl as Venir emerged into the clearing and the giant dog began licking his face like it was covered in beef gravy.
“Why all the excitement, Chongo?” Venir said with a puzzled look. “I haven’t been gone long.” He scratched Chongo’s ears while trying to avoid the soaking saliva. “The last time you acted like this—”
Venir whirled, his axe ready.
A booming voice erupted from the foliage.
“Ahh! Humans! More scrawny little humans in Mood’s forest?”
A figure that was broader than Venir and almost as tall had hoisted Georgio and Melegal off of the ground like rodents. They kicked and flailed like children as the red-bearded fellow pinched the life out of them in the nooks of his elbows.
“Put them down, Mood, you’re gonna kill them,” Venir said laughing, dropping his helm and Brool, spike first, to the ground. Chongo was howling and stammering his paws at the sight of the husky figure.
“Oh, why not let me kill them?” Mood said with a snort, dropping them unceremoniously to the ground. “Humans are about as useful as underlings nowadays.”
He came and stood toe to toe with Venir, his mighty hands grasping and almost engulfing Venir’s forearms. Melegal and Georgio shook their heads and looked over at each other with uncertain glances.
Mood’s head was almost as wide as one of Chongo’s, his features indistinguishable behind his bushy re
d hair, eyebrows, and beard. Only a pair of glinting, green eyes gave evidence of the dwarf within. Beneath a heavy chainmail shirt Mood wore a long-sleeved leather jerkin with matching pants and high, floppy-cuffed brown boots. Two giant hand axes were strapped crisscross over his broad back, and a large belt pouch was wrapped around his waist. Melegal dusted himself off and pulled Georgio back to his feet.
“Good to see you, Mood! Chongo’s even more pleased,” Venir said.
“Oh Chongo, it’s been too long!”
Mood hugged both of the dog’s thick necks as Chongo licked the giant-sized dwarf’s broad face.
“You just keep getting bigger and bigger.”
Mood reached into his pouch and produced two purple fruits, which he tossed to Georgio. Chongo leapt after them, knocked Georgio back down, fruits falling from his hands. The dog licked them up and belched. Venir noticed Melegal’s perched eyes and began the introductions.
“Ahem … Melegal, Georgio, this is my friend, Mood. He’s the giant dwarf who used to look after Chongo.”
Mood patted Melegal on the shoulder.
“Hello to you. And to you, too, little fella.”
Georgio stared back at the wide, fuzzy face, squinting toward the bright green eyes beneath the bushy brows.
“Yer almost bigger than Venir!” Georgio blurted out. The boy’s gawking face caused Mood to turn away.
“So, I saw you and those little forest magi having a tussle, eh?” Mood said with a chuckle. “You sure scared the slat out of them, I’ll tell you! Never seen ’em scatter like that.”
“That’s the first time they’ve done something so blatantly ignorant,” Venir replied.
“Times are tough. The underlings have been creeping around the borders, making trouble. They aren’t used to anyone messing with their territory, never mind invading it. It makes them edgy, thinking the fiends want their magic. But you’d think by now they’d know you’re on their side.”
Melegal interjected.
“Whose side? What’s all this business with forest magi, underlings, and giant dwarfs for that matter? What in Bone have you gotten me into this time, Venir?”
Venir and Mood looked at one another and laughed. Mood had such a belly laugh that he had to kneel, leaving Melegal feeling foolish. Venir struggled to hold back his own laughter, but he settled down and began to explain.
“I told you Me, you’ve been in the city too long.”
He almost lost it again, took a deep breath, and smiled.
“You don’t need to worry about the forest magi, they’re lightweights. You and Georgio could have handled them, you just didn’t know it.”
Venir winked at the boy. Of course, it wasn’t true. The forest magi were well known to trap and cannibalize a man from time to time, but only the ones that used magic.
“As for Mood, I’ve told you about him.”
“No you haven’t,” Melegal retorted.
“I don’t remember,” Georgio confirmed.
“Uh … well anyway, he’s an old friend and so are his people. Sometimes we track underlings together. As a matter a fact, he’s the one who taught me most of what I know about such things.”
Melegal’s expression wasn’t satisfied.
Venir shrugged.
“I try to tell you about these things, but you don’t like to listen.”
“As for the underlings,” Mood piped up, lounging against Chongo who was lying down, “I don’t think you need to worry about them, either. Your buddy with the big axe over there goes through them like crap through ah … well, I forget how it goes, but you get the idea. It’s like nothin’ I ever saw. Almost fun to watch.”
Venir sighed and sat down.
“Anyway, we’re gonna be just fine.”
As long as we don’t run into any underlings.
He was thirsty and tired. His friends looked the same. He broke out a canteen and tossed it to Georgio and opened another for himself.
Melegal strolled forward, arms crossed.
“And what about the Royals that we assume to be chasing us? Is that no longer a concern?”
“Nope. They won’t follow us here.”
“Royals?” Mood sat up. “Uh, that would be something I’d definitely worry about. They kinda run the show on Bish. Why are you running from the Royals, Venir?”
“You’re leaning against the reason.”
“Oh.”
The big dwarf leaned back, deep in thought. A silence fell over them, and the forest quieted. A rare breeze wheezed through the glossy blue, green, and red leaves of the Red Clay Forest. Mood lit a massive cigar and its aroma began to calming their nerves. Exhaustion filtered through Venir’s body and his eyes grew heavy, and in moments he was fast asleep. Melegal and Georgio followed suit while Mood chewed on his cigar.
“Royals … sheesh!” Mood said in a whisper.
There was the feint roar somewhere nearby. Chongo’s tails began a fast twitch. Mood pulled his massive hand axes off of his back and rose from the ground. A second roar came, closer now, but the men didn’t stir from their slumber. Mood watched the trees shaking in the distance as another growl came.
CHAPTER 36
Two days had passed since Tonio’s demise in the stables near the south gate of the city. And in those two days Lord Almen’s detective, McKnight, had figured out that Tonio had not been assassinated.
An old stablehand, haggard and leathery, stood shaking in his sandals. The man’s hair was salted with white flakes and lice. McKnight averted his eyes from the sight. The old man continued to tremble as he spoke in a threatening tone.
“So, you don’t know what on Bish it was, do you?”
The old man trembled as he spoke.
“Yes, a two-headed beast. Like a d-dog … m-m-master. It’s nothing like I-I’ve ever seen.”
“Anything else,” McKnight asked, pulling the man’s chin upward, studying his eyes.
The old man’s teeth were chattering as he said, “No … I’ve worked all my life in this stable and I only saw this creature once, a few months ago. Me thinks it was what you’re asking for.”
McKnight shoved the old man to the ground.
“I’m not asking what you think!”
McKnight began twirling one blade between his fingers. The stablehand watched him, eyes full of terror.
Why is this stuttering fool scared? Killing him would be a kindness. Wait, that can’t be right. Killing someone would be kind? Doing them a favor? I have been going about this the wrong way all of these years.
“Well …” he said, shaking his blade at the old man, “I don’t like your story, but I’ve gathered little more the same from others. You say this is the stable the dog beast was in?”
He looked around from inside the stable.
“So how did it leave without being seen?”
The old man was shaking his back up and forth, muttering.
“I don’t know.”
McKnight jerked out another knife from his scabbard and the old man flinched. He nodded his head and began poking all over the stable. I hate these foul smelling places. After several minutes he stormed from the stable. McKnight looked up and down the rows, stepping back and forth. Something’s not right here.
“Close that stable gate, if you will.”
The old hand crawled up from the ground and began to dust himself off.
“Quickly fool!”
The man jumped and pushed the gate closed with a loud clank. The old man backed away. McKnight began opening and closing some other gates. They latched without a clank. Interesting. He looked back at the first gate, noticing it was set a little lower than the others. He chuckled.
Brushing the old man aside, he opened the stable gate and closed himself on the inside. From there his long fingers searched for a handhold or latch of sorts. Two big grooves lay under the main support beam of the stable gate. McKnight lifted it, felt some give, and stopped. He tried again. Bone! He squatted down and braced his arms on the bar and pushed u
p with his legs. The heavy piece of wood popped in his ears. Nothing happened. He looked around and noticed a small wooden lever protruding from one of the rafters. Clever. He jumped up and pulled it down. The floor at the back of the stable dropped open. He turned around, staring at a gaping hole leading down into the ground.
“This could come in handy,” he whispered to himself. “Well, there we have it—Fascinating.”
He looked back over the stable gate and the old man was no longer there. Instead, he saw him hobbling away down the middle of the barn.
He’s horribly slow. He pondered whether to kill him or let him go. Living is a much worse fate. Perhaps he will be of some use to me later. His curiosity had the better of him today.
McKnight studied how the latching mechanism worked. It took some time, but he figured it out. He then gathered a small bull’s-eye lantern, stepped into the secret corridor and closed the passage behind him.
CHAPTER 37
It was early in the day as Lord Almen strolled from his chamber. His handsome face was heavy in thought as he passed by the nervous bows and downcast eyes of servants. Castle Almen was decorated with the finest materials available in Bish. A marvel in comparison to the other houses ranked below it, as well as some above. Marble pillars sparkled with intricate inlaid copper designs, that reflected the candlelight from the golden wrought chandeliers. Every chamber oozed with wealth as his footsteps echoed down the hall.
The Darkslayer: Book 01 - Wrath of the Royals Page 17