The sound of Palos’s door creaking open brought her chin up. The Prince of Thieves emerged, arms outstretched over his head, yawning in all his glory.
Disgusting.
“Well, it seems I can’t sleep with all the excitement going on,” he said, tying the belt around his robe, taking a seat, and pouring more wine. “I just love cat naps, so refreshing, brrrrrr. But Kam, my dearest, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Diller!”
Swift as a ghost, the man entered, crossbow ready, concerned eyes drifting towards Kam, before returning to Palos. “Yes, Palos?”
“Prince Palos, mind you. Now, remove her chains and take this little person to the Quarter. I, well, we, will be needing some privacy. I’m in the mood for another extravagant bath already.” He rubbed his skin and leered at Kam as he guzzled his wine. “It leaves the skin so smooth.” Lefty and Kam glanced at one another as Diller made his way over.
Kam rose to her feet as Diller unbound her, his hands much lighter to the touch this time.
Palos tipped his chin at her, and he swaggered over and said, “Fetch those warming salts. I want my water to make you sweat. It glistens so well on your body.”
I need those stones.
As Diller bent over to unshackle Lefty, Palos said, “Better leave him in the chains. I don’t want him wandering around here stirring up trouble. See to it the Quartermaster keeps a close eye on him.”
Kam almost dropped the bowl of warming salts when she caught Lefty giving her a wink.
“Enjoy your bath, Princess,” Lefty said, tongue hanging from his mouth.
She reached down and grabbed a handful of his thick yellow hair and said in his face, “I should kill you, little halfling Bastard!”
“Alright you two, cut that out!” Diller sat, pulling Lefty away, leaving Kam with a fistful of his blond hair.
“Ow!” Lefty said in an angry cry.
“Get him out of here, Diller! And as for you, Kam, you need to calm yourself and focus on me. Get those salts in the tub. Now!”
Kam dabbed her hand in the bowl of bath salts as Diller slung Lefty over his shoulder. A sinking feeling settled in: that she might not ever see the boy again, or the gems either, for that matter. She tossed a ball of bath salt in the tub, bringing the water to a sizzle. The next one she grabbed was as hard as a stone. She looked at it and almost gasped. It was one of the gemstones. The other was resting in the bowl.
When the door closed behind Diller, she realized she was alone with Palos, but with a glimmer of hope this time.
“What are you gawking at?” he said, disrobing as he slipped into the tub. “Throw in more salt; it’s not hot enough, you lactating witch.”
I’m not going to live another moment like this. I’m sorry, Erin!
She tossed the rest of salts in the water and let the bowl clatter to the floor.
“Ah, that’s better,” Palos said, closing his eyes .
Inside her hand, the red stones throbbed. The choker around her neck began to tighten. Summon it! Do something! The gem stones' magic made contact with the magic within her and rose her to another level. Kam felt more power than she’d ever felt before. Dark and wondrous. Magnifying the magic within her. Her face purpled, and her knees began to buckle. Hang on, Kam! Think! But no words came to mind.
Palos wasn’t paying her a lick of attention as she hung back to the side of the tub. The water was all bubbles, fizzles and steams. But any second he was certain to notice that she was about to choke to death. Think!
Gems in hand, she touched them to her neck and focused her thoughts on the choker. Remove this harness from me! She envisioned it unraveling in her mind. The choker squeezed her neck so hard she swore her brains were oozing from her ears as she fought for her life. One magic force in a fierce battle against the other. Her body a punching bag. She summoned all her anger, all her hate, every bit of desperation, and turned it on the white hot line on her neck. Something inside her mind screamed.
Snik-ting. The choker slackened on her neck, yet remained there, its magic spent. She'd won.
She gasped for air, saying, “Oh my.”
Palos turned his head,” Did you say something?
Kam disrobed, swung her legs into the tub, slid into the bubbling waters, and began rubbing his head with one hand as she pressed her breasts into his back.
“Just a little choked up is all,” she said. “It’s been a long day.”
“Ah … that’s better,” he said, leaning back into her. “Nothing like being a Prince.”
The steam from the sizzling hot water did little to relieve the tension in her taut muscles. Filled with power she’d longed for, only one question came to mind. What now? She had her magic. She had more power. But she still didn’t have any idea where her daughter was, and she couldn’t go blasting her magic through the tavern like a bull gone wild, even though that’s exactly what she wanted to do.
“It would feel much better if you used both hands, Kam!”
She tossed the red gems on her robes and twitched her fingers at them. The robes moved, concealing the gems.
I should kill you now. She grasped Palos behind the muscles on his neck. But I just don’t think it would be that easy.
She dug her thumbs deeper into Palos’s supple muscles. The man might have gotten hefty over the years, but his svelte feline muscles were still at work under there. She had to be careful, very careful. The man could overpower her in a second.
She brushed her lips against his neck and said, “Feel better?”
“Without question. My, it’s a sudden twist in your attitude. Why so sudden?”
“I just want to see—”
“Pah! Of course. You just want to see your daughter,” he said, mocking her. “Pathetic. It would be best if you lied about liking it. It would make things better for the both of us.”
“I see,” she said, kissing his neck. Bastard! “Does this feel better?” She kissed it again. Like kissing swine.
“You’re learning.”
As much as Kam longed to see her baby and get her to safety, she’d have to play along a bit longer. And hope her shameful acts wouldn’t lead her to kill herself in the meantime.
CHAPTER 26
“OUTPOST THIRTY-ONE!” Jans shouted, slamming his helmet to the ground. “That’s Absurd!”
Venir wasn’t surprised at the reaction. He’d grown accustomed to it over the years, seeing how he’d suggested it a few times before.
“It’s the only foothold the underlings have, Jans,” he argued. “And by the looks of things, I think it’s the best choice. You are low on supplies and getting lower on men. No word has come from the Royals.”
“You are a madman!” He pointed at Venir, gesturing to his men. Each and every one of the commander's top leaders was stark-faced and glum. “I know you swing a mighty axe, but that’s hardly enough to take on an entire underling army. They're thicker than thieves in those forests. Thousands if not tens of thousands.”
Venir shook his head. “You don’t know that, and I don’t believe it. The Royals have done nothing but turn tail and run since the day it was overtaken. One swift assault from the beginning would have gotten it back. Instead, they went back home, hid in the castles, and left all the rest for dead.” He looked down at Jans. “You know I’m right.”
“That’s treason, you renegade,” Jans warned. “I’d be more careful what you say.”
Venir balled up his fist and started to draw back, but stopped. Now wasn’t the time to fight with fists. Maybe, for a change, he could try using words.
“Now is not the time to worry about upsetting a bunch of pouty Royals. Now’s the time to figure out how to survive. You can’t keep running through these hills and jungles until your horses drop dead. You can’t wait for orders from the north. They aren’t coming. What you need to do is take care of these men. If we can get into the Outpost, spread the word, then a greater force might come.”
“You can’t possibly believe we can penetrate an
impenetrable Outpost? Hah! It’s not possible. Not even if I had another thousand riders. We’d need siege equipment, too. You can’t really think we can pull this off, can you? Be reasonable. I say we make a bee line for Bone and don’t look back.”
Venir wanted to stick his fist in Jans’s mouth. Certainly the man realized the Outpost had already been overtaken once before.
“They’ll expect that. What they won’t expect is battle at the front gate. We only have to take one gate, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it isn’t as heavily defended as you think. The hilltop’s been as quiet as the dead since the Royals departed.” Venir lifted his brow. “Besides, I think we can take it back the same way they got in.”
“I’m not getting all my men killed.”
Venir looked around. The Royal Riders were a proud group of hard riding adventurers who had battled more than a few times in their lives, judging by the looks of them. Battered and weary, armor dented, chinked and gashed, they looked like they were up for another fight or two.
“You men,” he said, standing tall, “you didn’t become Royal Riders because you wanted to live forever, did you?”
No one said a thing, but the crowed began to stir.
“Do you want to sink your spears into more underling bellies?”
“Aye!” a few responded.
“Have you burned enough of their stinking hides to last you a lifetime?”
“Nay!”
“Are you ready to trample their bones into dust? Stomp their guts in the mud? Or do I have to light a fire under your arses!?”
“Nay!” all of the surrounding men chanted, raising their spears and swords.
“Do we need more forces to show us how to kill the underlings, or do we just need the sound of thundering hooves under our feet?”
“Aye!”
“Are you ready to fight?”
Aye!”
Are you ready to die?”
“Aye!”
“But most of all, are you ready to make the underlings pay?”
“Aye!”
“Aye, Venir, I’m with you!”
“I want to stick my spear so far up their arses I poke their eyes out!”
The Royal Riders shouted and cheered. The entire camp bristled with energy.
Venir hoisted his axe high in the air.
“Release the Hounds of Chaos!”
CHAPTER 27
The days of caring about himself had evaporated over the past few months, now replaced with a strange sense of nobility. Slat! I’m going to save my woman. Well, a woman. And she’s not even that pretty, at that! Melegal traversed the city streets like a grey ghost, the shadows of the dipping suns quickly leaving the street mysterious and deadly compared to the day time.
Looking over his shoulder and ducking into alleys, the city’s craftiest of thieves felt pressed for time. The city had never been like this. The people’s faces and voices were full of panic, and a chronic series of alarms was being raised. The underlings were here. He’d seen them. The rumors and stories were so rampant he’d have sworn the entire city was on fire. This can’t be happening, he thought, running up one narrow set of steps and down another. Underlings in Bone. Insanity!
He climbed up the window sills to the top of an apartment building, then jumped across from one rooftop to the other. Huffing for breath, he hunkered down in the shadows of a chimney stack and peered at his building across the way. Haze shouldn’t be in there. Below him, people were pushing and shoving, gathering their gear and heading towards the gates. He could hear windows being nailed shut and deadbolts sliding into place. Not all of Bone’s residents were going to flee. He assumed most would fight to the death before they moved. Still. I’ve never seen it this bad before. But I don’t see any underlings, either. Oh my!
For the first time, his steely eyes noticed the smoke in the distance and the flames licking from the rooftops. He’d seen plenty of fires in Bone in his lifetime. Civilian riots were the main cause, but they were small and easily quashed under the boots of the City Watch. This, however, was big: an inferno by comparison. He shook his head. What in Bish is going on?
Haze. She’d been nothing but kind, in an odd sort of way, since the first time they met, and he’d almost chopped her fingers off for it. Now, he felt compelled to save her, and for all he knew, she wasn’t in any real danger. He wouldn’t figure they even knew where he lived. It was McKnight’s apartment, after all, the former detective's secret place of privacy. But, the Royals' reach was as long as it was deep. After all, they’d found him once before.
It wasn’t likely that with all the commotion the Almens would be focused on him. And if anything, they were all dead. Lord Almen, Sefron and the Brigand Queen should really already be eliminated from his life, after what happened in the arena. He should be a free man. He could, perhaps, return to the Castle and console Lorda Almen. Who knows, maybe the Brigand Queen is dead. He grinned. Now that would be special. He glanced at his apartment building. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Taking a seat, he leaned back, closed his eyes, listened to the chaos in the streets, and tried to relax. Give it some time. Just a few minutes of peace and quiet.
In his lap, he laid a long rectangular case that he’d removed from Lord Almen’s study. He gently ran his fingers over the edges. I wonder if this is what I think it is.
“What’s in that case?”
Melegal’s eyes snapped open. It was Jubilee.
“How did you get up here?”
“I climbed.”
“You couldn’t have kept up with me,” he said, hiding his incredulity.
“But I did. Why, were you trying to abandon us? I thought we were sticking together,” she said, frowning.
“Little Slerg, just to be frank: yes, I was trying to leave you.” He looked behind her. “Where’s Brak?” Maybe he’s dead and I won't have the blame for that.
“Hidden in the sewers. We can go back after him later. Unless he gets hungry again. Then he’ll leave,” she said, taking a seat beside him.
“We aren’t going back after anyone. You are.”
“I’m not leaving you, and you can’t get away from me. I’m a shadow. That’s what my grandfather said.”
“Do shadows have wings?” Melegal asked, narrowing his eyes.
Jubilee made a strange face and said, “Uh … no. Why?”
Melegal snatched her by the cuff of her shirt and dragged her across the rooftop towards the ledge, saying, “Because you’re going to need them after I toss you over this edge.”
“No! No! I’ll scream!” she cried.
Jubilee’s toes were scraping the ledge.
“I’m not worried; no one will listen. Now, are you going to leave me be, or am I going to have to drop you like rotting cabbage?”
She eyed him, saying, “You wouldn’t drop me. I’m a girl.”
“No, you’re a Slerg,” he said, shoving her farther out. “Are you going to … eh?”
He pulled her back. The sounds of heavy boots were coming down his apartment stairs. Three Watchmen emerged from the entryway and onto the street. One wiped his bloody dagger on his pants leg. Melegal felt his heart in his throat. Haze! The man shoved his dagger back in his sheath, adjusted the black-billed brown cap on his head, laughed, and motioned for his men to follow. Down the street they went. Melegal gawped at his bricked up apartment window.
“Who lives in there? Your wife?”
“No.”
“Your whore then?” Jubilee asked.
“No. Be silent, will you?”
“Well, you look very sad. It must have been someone that meant something to you. So it’s either your wife, a whore, or your mother, and it couldn’t be your mother because you already told me you were a bastard. So which is it? A whore or a wife?”
Melegal heard, but he wasn’t listening. He made his way back down onto the street. Jubilee followed him down, still talking.
“Grandfather says there are only four women in a man’s life: his mother, his wife,
his whore … Ah.” She snapped her fingers. “Your sister. But, it couldn’t be your sister, seeing that you were an urchin. So,” she proudly said. “It’s a whore. Grandfather says there are wives and whores and whores that become wives — eek!”
Melegal wrapped his fingers around her neck and said, “What do you call a woman that is not married. A whore? No. Are you married? No. Are you a whore? No.”
“But I’m a sister,” Jubilee squeaked out.
“No, you are an urchin now. And not being married doesn’t make you a whore. Being a whore makes you a whore. And your grandfather, well, it sounds like he knew a lot more about whores than he did about women. Now shut your mouth and come on.”
Melegal was accustomed to seeing the dead, but the thought of Haze covered in blood with frozen eyes affixed to the ceiling caused a feeling of fluttering moths in his stomach. Crossing the road and taking the steps up three at a time, he found himself at the top staring at a busted door. Please, no!
Stepping through the doorway, the fireplace was the first thing he saw, its embers cold. A table was overturned, two flower vases were shattered, and his easy chair was turned over. Anything that wasn’t affixed to something was broken, except the door to the tiny bedroom. In two long steps, Melegal made it from one side of the room to the other and stepped inside.
Haze lay face down on the bed, unmoving, the sheets red with blood.
He touched her bare leg, noting the bruises on her ankles. Gently, he rolled her onto her back and studied her battered face. She looked like she’d fallen face first down a stone staircase, but she was breathing, barely. Her skinny legs had been sliced and poked. But she was alive.
“Is she dead?” Jubilee said, peaking in the door.
Melegal said nothing.
Jubilee stepped up to the foot of the bed and watched the feeble rising of Haze’s chest. The little girl’s eyes traveled from Haze’s toes to her head. “You do have a sister. I’m sorry. I had it all wrong.”
The Darkslayer: Book 05 - Outrage in the Outlands Page 16