“Indeed, it almost cost me my life more than once. But, it filled me with power so great I sometimes could barely contain it. Like a rich well of energy deeper than our caves. That feeling was indescribable, but the feeling is still with me, just more faint.”
“And you brother felt this as well, did he not?”
“He did.”
They were hovering over the mirages of the Warfield now, the place of fight and die. Far below, from the ledge of a giant hill, two pairs of unseeing eyes were watching them: the Nameless Two. From within their cave they could see all coming and going, no matter the dimension. Verbard could not contain his grimace as his clawed hand rubbed the heavy scar on his chest. It ached as the agony of dying settled in. In that moment in the cave, when he and his brother felt so invincible, he'd been quickly humbled by the single thrust of a blade. He winced again.
“Problem, Verbard?” Sinway said. “You almost look pale.”
“No, Master.” Just you.
“Then keep up,” Sinway almost spat. “We’ve little time left.”
His master sounded stressed. Perhaps the spell was fading; he could only assume.
In merely a few more moments they were hovering just outside the City of Bone. Verbard had last seen it months ago, a fleeting moment in Eep’s eye, but his memory didn’t serve it justice. The city of Bone was enormous, black against the shades of the suns, spires and lookouts almost ten stories tall. The miserable place was filled with humans, and all Verbard could think was how much he wanted to see them all burn alive. That would be grand.
It was strange though, being so close to his enemies, inside the former home of the Darkslayer. His little black heart began to pound even faster. Why were they here? As they floated closer, the multitudes of people on the outer walls began to thicken. They were coming from the Outlands, in droves, crowding the walls and fighting among themselves.
“Master,” he hissed with a twinge of joy, “the exodus is, well … masterful!”
“Indeed, Verbard, indeed. They fled the south like drowning rats, causing their own disorder. The soldiers within can barely depart without trampling their own kind like rodents. They are weak, weary, broken, sick and starving. All coming to seek refuge in the great City of Bone. Hah! They can’t even bring in rations.” Master Sinway’s iron eyes glimmered with glee. “They have themselves under siege without even the necessity of our presence.”
“How long do you think their reserves will hold them, Master?”
“Ah, well, they are prepared, but less than a year; I am certain. Hardly a blink for us, but long enough to kill off thousands more of the humans. In a few more weeks they’ll be eating their dead.”
Elation filled Verbard, and even Master Sinway’s satisfaction was abundant on his hardened face. Verbard sensed that his master had been waiting on this for a long time. He pulled his shoulders back, lifted his chin beside his master and observed the deteriorating throng of people. Deep down he felt satisfaction that he had something to do with this. Not his brother, not Sinway nor any other underling. Him. I rule!
Sinway turned to him, almost with a smile on his face, his flattened teeth bared. “I’ve not brought you here just to bask in glory, Verbard. We both know how quickly things can change, so we are seizing the moment. I wanted to share something else with you about this grand city that you don’t know.”
Sinway gazed down on the city, shook his head and pointed.
“The City of Bone, as men would call it, was not always so,” Sinway said, lowering his ethereal self to the ground.
Ugh, Verbard thought as the filthy people passed through him with pitiful looks and wallowed around with screaming babies. Verbard looked up the rock walls, so tall and formidable up close. Impenetrable. He wondered who had moved such massive rocks and was certain it was the giants or the dwarves. If Sinway was contemplating attacking it, then they would need many siege machines, a full army of soldiers and all the magic powers at their disposal. Outpost Thirty-One was one thing, but the City of Bone was quite another.
“When I was young, Verbard, the City of Bone was what the underlings called home.”
Verbard silently mouthed the words, “What?”
But Sinway wasn’t finished.
“The time has come to take it back, and I’m placing you in charge of that.”
Verbard tried not to stammer as his nails dug into his palms. This is my reward. I’d rather eat urchling slat first. Slat on that.
“It would be a great honor,” he bowed, “Master Sinway.”
CHAPTER 11
Kam rushed through the door, her nerves jangling with danger at the sound of her baby’s screams. A man was in the room, stout and wiry, his face aghast, her baby in his corded arms. The man was patting the baby’s back, while bouncing the baby on his knees, his face distraught. It appeared nothing was working to shut off the baby’s screams.
The little baby’s face was red, its small mouth widening into a gaping hole. Kam’s moment of panic subsided as she eased the baby into her arms and allowed the little one to latch onto her breast.
“Ssssh. Sssssh. Sssssh. Your mommy's here, you hungry little thing,” she said, taking a seat on the couch. She winced. “My! Easy now, Little Girl, I’m not a cow.”
Kam gently rocked her baby girl, Erin, back and forth. She felt Billip's heated gaze on her and looked up only to see his eyes quickly flit away. He was a nice enough looking fellow for such a hardened man, shifty and nervous at times, but she still caught an ornery look in his eyes now and again. He popped his knuckles, looked down in her eyes, then lower and away again. Her cheeks turned a little rosy, which was odd because over the years she’d become calloused to men’s wanton eyes caressing her features.
“Eh … Kam, I’m sorry about little Erin getting so excited. One second she was fine, then the next she sounded away like a banshee.” Billip twisted his black goatee and added, “Can I get you or the baby anything? Milk … er, I mean tea or some plum juice? I’d be happy to fetch you some.”
“No thank you, Billip. I can take things from here, and I apologize. I should have come up sooner. I just got caught up with things down there,” she said, shifting away from him.
Billip had been a great help since day one, but she had let herself get to a point where she relied on him, as well as Mikkel, too much. It didn’t help that both men, each with his own rugged brand of attractiveness, had been more than willing to cater to her every whim. It was nice, though, having two men that appreciated her in a different way than the City of Three’s more scholarly types did.
“Perhaps I should head on downstairs, “he said. “I’m sure Joline could use the help. It’s been busier than a hive of flying toads these past few weeks. Good for business, but maybe not so much for babies. Poor little gal missed her momma something awful, even if it was for just a few hours. She’s a light sleeper, that one.”
Billip gave her a quick bow and turned to walk out.
“Billip, what do you make of these crowds? Do you think the rumors are true, that the underlings are taking over the south?”
A nervous look was in his eyes as he said, “There’s something going on; I’m certain. Mikkel and I talk about it much, and we’ve been hearing lots of things, nothing like we haven’t heard before, but up here in the North, well it’s unheard of. Mikkel’s worried—er—”
“Worried? About what?” she demanded, rising to her feet. There was something in Billip’s voice that worried her.
“Er, nothing you need to concern yourself with.”
“Tell me, Billip. Tell me!” she urged.
He rubbed the back of his neck and said, “I’d rather not; it’s personal and all. Mikkel would kill me. Man’s honor.”
Now it would drive her crazy, not knowing what was being spoken about. She couldn’t stand it, but she was certain she couldn’t force the man to give in to her every whimsy. Or could she? As Billip stood there, eyes shifting back and forth, she shifted Erin from one breast to
the other, taking her time in doing so.
“Billip,” she said, parting her perfect full lips, “tell me what is on Mikkel's mind.”
He blushed.
“All right! But promise you won’t say anything.”
“I won’t,” she assured him, recovering herself.
“He’s worried about his boy, Nikkel.”
“I didn’t know he had a boy. Where is he?”
“Two-Ten City.”
Kam felt a mix of anger and shame. Too many people were protecting her for her own good and not protecting themselves.
“How old is Nikkel?”
“About the same age as Georgio.”
She wanted to slap somebody.
“Is there anything else I should know? Is the boy with his mother? Are there more children? And what about you, Billip? Certainly you have some children of your own.”
He sucked in his breath and said, “None that have claimed me as of yet.”
“Why doesn’t he just go? Both of you? You don’t need to stay around here. Go get Mikkel’s boy and bring him back here where it's safe.”
“I’ve tried to tell him it would be well, but we promised Venir.”
Kam frowned, and her eyes began to water.
Billip cleared his throat and said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say—”
“It’s, it’s fine, Billip.”
But it wasn’t. The mere mention of his name sent shivers through her. Sometimes, down in the tavern, she thought she heard his voice or laughter among the crowd, only to be left with a hollow feeling a moment later. That’s why she liked to stay down in the tavern as much as she could, hoping he might swing back in the door, but she’d never admit that to herself.
“You all right?” he asked. She didn’t even notice that he was sitting beside her with a hand on her knee.
“Billip, I know what you promised Venir, but the boys will be fine. Don’t you think he’d understand?”
“Well, he always was pretty understanding. But, what about you, Kam? And baby Erin.”
“Your promise was to take care of the boys. You’ve done that. Besides, seeing how I am the mother of his child, I think it’s fair for me to reserve the right to speak for him in his absence. Don’t you think?”
Billip tilted his head as he stroked the long hairs of his mustache
“I suppose, but—”
“Good. Now, I’ll bring it up to Mikkel later—”
“No, you can’t!” Billip stammered.
“Don’t worry, Billip. I’ll let him convince himself it was his idea. I’ll fool him into asking me.”
“Now, that’s my kind of thinking. Cunning like a fox you are! Very well, then.” Billip got up with a squeeze on her knee. “I’ll be downstairs, then.”
As he closed the door, Kam let out a heavy sob. She grabbed a handkerchief and blew her nose. Her life had been so much simpler before Venir had come and turned it inside out. Even though she had Erin, she still didn’t know whether she was happy or sad.
“Ah, finally,” she said, pulling the drowsy looking little girl away from her chest. “I see all of that screaming took a toll on you, you sweet little thing.” Baby Erin cooed at the sound.
The little baby girl was sweet, with a thick mop of dark brown hair and light eyes that were opening and closing. Unlike Kam’s little nose, Erin’s was more broad like her father's, but the rest of her was petite, with little hands and feet topped off by a pink ribbon tied into a long braided lock of hair.
She hoisted Erin up in the hair.
“Whee!”
Erin’s eyes widened before she let out a sweet little giggle on the way back down.
Kam felt all of her problems leave her in the moment as she stared into her daughter's bright little eyes. She was in control. Erin was happy. She was happy, but why couldn’t she stay happy? She ran through the list.
Venir, Lefty, Georgio, Fogle, Billip, Mikkel … all men.
She nuzzled her baby’s warm little body into her chest, patted her rear end and said, “I hope you fall for a much simpler kind of man that me, Erin because I don’t want that little heart of yours breaking. They’re hard to put back together.”
Over by the windows she took notice of a rocking chair that had been a gift from Lefty and Master Gillem. The wood craftsmanship was worthy of the interiors of Royal castles, simple yet distinct. She hadn’t used it yet, but the others had, from Billip to Joline. Master Gillem had been nothing but the perfect help in mentoring Lefty, and therein lay the problem: too perfect.
She patted Erin on the back, bringing forth a hearty burp.
“That’s my girl.” She hadn’t lost her soft spot for Lefty, the tiny fair-haired halfling boy, but his not-so-innocent charms had not eluded her. He was hiding something, but it didn’t bother her so much as it did Georgio. She kept telling herself they were teenage boys and that teens make mistakes, but that justification was a poor excuse on her behalf, and deep down, she knew it. Some days it was better not to try and resolve any problems at all than to bother with any of them. Some things have to work out on their own. So she told herself.
Outside, she could hear the carriages rolling over the cobblestones along with the usual greetings and pleasantries. Below the window sill was the entrance to the Magi Roost, and she recognized many patrons' voices sauntering in from a day of work in the magical city. Erin had gotten used to those sounds, and before long she was fast asleep. Kam laid her head back, closed her eyes and meditated.
She opened her eyes feeling at rest, with baby Erin still sound asleep on her chest.
Coffee.
Raising her arms up over her head and extending her fingers, she mouthed a silent incantation.
Snap-Snap.
The coals inside the stove fired with life, and the metal canister began to percolate. Two minutes later the aroma invigorated her as she laid Erin down inside her purple and olive colored cradle. She muttered another incantation, and the cradle began to rock and hum a soothing ancient tune.
“Nothing's quite like an invisible baby sitter,” she said as she walked over and filled her ceramic mug. “You can thank your grandmother for that. Hmph. She even said it was the same one that I used to fall asleep to, but that was awfully long ago.”
She stood near the cradle, sipping her coffee and looking out into the street. Where is he? All of the murmurings about the underlings had gotten to her, and the stories she overheard Billip and Mikkel telling Georgio disturbed her. She was convinced that Venir being missing had something to do with all this. Only he could manage to piss off an entire host of underlings. She let out a short giggle before she reached down and put her warm hand on his daughter's face. She wanted to Erin to know her father. She wanted him to come home and hold her in his arms. She wanted to kill him before anyone else did. She kept assuring herself that he wasn’t dead, but every day made it seem more likely he was. Even Billip and Mikkel seemed to have resolved as much, judging by their subtle advances.
At some point you are going to have to let him go, Joline had begun to say.
But for Erin’s sake she couldn’t do that yet, and another thing bothered her as well: Where on Bish was Fogle Boon?
CHAPTER 12
Strapped to a tree like a frozen log, Fogle Boon awaited his inevitable death shivering his last moments of life away in utter misery. He didn’t even bother to look up into the eyes of the mountain man coming his way gripping a gleaming bastard sword in his hairy hands. Deep down he felt shame, realizing his only friend left in the world was about to die as well. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t, watch his friend die first. Instead he was ready to go.
Keep your chin up before you die, Venir had said someone told him once.
“Bish!” he managed. His head felt like a block of ice as he raised it. At least he could try to volunteer his life first and maybe give Mood more time. He opened his mouth to speak, one last time, as the blade rose over his head.
“Did you say, ‘I guess I’ll be dyi
ng a virgin after all’?”
The woman stood there, beautiful and cold, pink eyes filled with curiosity.
“I suppose,” he said, then sneezed. “Aw … even that hurts.”
Her next question caused his brilliant mind to thaw.
“So, you came up here to lose your virginity … to a druid?”
Fogle took a moment to reassure himself that she had said what she said she had. Lying wasn’t his thing; he'd never needed it until now.
“Y—y-yes,” he managed.
“Get me my log!” she ordered.
The big men looked at one another.
“NOW!”
Snow fell from the tree, coating Fogle as the big men burst into action. In a moment they had her propped back up before them.
She folded her arms below her ample and pleasing breasts and said, “So, why am I to believe that you—unlike every pig of a man in this world—have not been sleeping with harlots and treating uncommonly good women like whores?”
What a highly uncommon question! Fogle felt some of his inner strength return, and he was going to need every bit of it to pull off the rest of the lie. He was no story teller, but he was going to have to spin one if he wanted to make it through the day.
Here we go.
“I’m not so certain that it is possible to prove whether or not I am still a virgin, but I am, not that it matters at this point.”
She kept her eyes away from his as she seemed to ponder his words.
“So, you seek to lose your virginity to a druid? Why? Certainly a common woman would do. What man travels so far to lose his innocence, a man of your age at that?”
Fogle felt his mind begin to smile from one side of his brain to the other. She’s a dolt? Is this possible? Go along with it.
A woman beautiful, formidable and exotic sat before him, as picturesque as the great falls in the City of Three, and he had her undivided attention. The trick was keeping it.
“As you know, I am a mage of sorts, and I’ve been told that magic runs strongest in the veins of druids because they are the purest magic users of mankind. I want my legacy to be pure and strong.” He bragged. “My mentors shielded me from my physical needs and desires until my time had come. My time is now they said, to find a druid woman, a gift of nature, and offer myself to her. If my seed is strong and she wishes to bear my child, then it shall be a strong, formidable force that even the underlings would fear to reckon with. It’s—”
The Darkslayer: Book 04 - Danger and the Druid Page 8