“Shut up! That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. You are a lousy liar, but I still, for some reason, “her eyes twinkled, “suspect you are a virgin.” She rubbed his delicate chin. “Hmmm. Now, tell me, really, why you have sought me out, or I’ll have my men pierce your eyes with an icicle.”
So much for that, but at least she admits she is a druid.
“Any chance of being warm one last time before I die?”
She reached over and cupped his face in her ginger hands. A feeling of warmth slowly made its way through his face and down to his toes. Her breath was hot steam on his face, and it had the sweet scent of honey. Feeling the urge to kiss her pale lips, he leaned forward.
Slap!
“Seems you want more than you asked for, Virgin,” she said, but her tone was not one of anger. “I’m waiting.”
“I’m a virgin, but that’s not why we are in these, or rather, your mountains. We have a dog, a giant one with two heads, named Chongo. He’s sick, and Mood,” he caught her eyebrows perching as she took a quick glance over her shoulder. Maybe he said too much. “…said only a druid might be able to heal him.”
Slap!
She could have slapped him a hundred times, and he wouldn’t have minded. He was still warm. She’s amazing. He smiled.
“Why are you smiling and lying?” she demanded.
“I’m smiling because I can feel my toes again and because this is the only foreplay I’ve ever had,” he said, offering a grin.
The fingers on her hand transformed into an array of long sharp sticks that reached over and dug into his shoulder.
“Is this foreplay amusing to you, Virgin Liar? Shall I dig a little deeper into your heart's desires?” she said, squeezing.
“Gah!” he blurted out as the wooden finger punctured through his robes into his skin and began to burn. “No, I swear it! There is such a dog, and that is why we are here: to heal it!” He was getting angry now. “Kill me if you must, but know that you are killing an innocent man! Your ogres, every smelly arsed one of them, needed to die! Oh, why does a woman as glorious as you consort with the likes of them?”
She released him.
“Druids don’t pick and choose between the races. We each have our purpose. The ogres are no more good or evil than men.”
“That’s a bunch of slat! Does the same go for underlings as well? How is your consorting with them treating you? It seems to me that you are about as far away from them as anyone could be!”
She made no reply.
He didn’t notice one of the mountain men whispering something in her ear. Fogle just stared into the ground.
“Humph,” she said to the mountain man. “Are you certain?”
He gave a quick nod.
Once more, she addressed Fogle, “Describe this dog, then.”
Fogle spilled out every little detail, from Chongo’s two whipping tails to his large dangling tongues. He told her about the albino urchlings and the wounds they had caused. The druid hung on his every word with a growing look of concern on her captivating face.
“What is your name?” she asked.
“Fogle … Fogle Boon. And yours is?”
“Cass,” She replied. “Virgin Fogle, did anyone ever tell you that you are a strange looking man?”
“Not to my face. Did anyone ever tell you that you are the most perfect thing they ever saw?”
“Flattery. Hah, you're as as good at that as you are at lying. Cover his face and bind his hands,” she ordered, turning away.
“But—”
She was gone. He was gagged, and a smelly sack now covered his face.
I’m not very good at this woman thing.
CHAPTER 13
The more Venir struggled, the more the ghastly one-eyed giant squeezed, pinching his ribs to the verge of cracking.
“S....top it!” The creature slurred out of deformed lips.
Venir would have none of that; he wasn’t about to be a meal if there was anything that he could do about it. The monster, waist deep in the water, traversed from one side of the lake to the other. Ahead, Venir noticed the mouth of a cave. A black cavern over a hundred feet high loomed. Not good. Perhaps One Eye was planning to feed him to something else, or roast his skin in there.
Brool was still wrapped in his tight grip, the shaft warm to the touch, and if he’d get enough wiggle room he promised himself he would slice the giant's fingers off. Wait and fight. He let his taut muscles begin to slacken, but the grip that held him did little to subside as they entered the dark mouth of the cave.
The light of the mist disappeared as One Eye sloshed deeper into the darkness. Venir looked back for the glow of the mist, his memory flickering as to what illuminated the mist to begin with. Reason told him the mist should have blocked out the light, yet it provided it.
His eyes strained in the black behind the eyelets of his helm, but wherever he was, it was devoid of walls. How did the giant see in the black, with only one good eye no less? Something began to hum a tune, throaty and strange. It was his captor, whose belly continued to groan like an enormous bullfrog.
There was a loud slosh of water, followed by another that jolted Venir. Wet steps slapped on slick rocks he was certain he was hearing.
“Mmmmm-mah … almost time to eat,” it said.
Venir’s own stomach growled.
“Great Bish …”
“What you say, Little Giant?”
“I say,” Venir yelled, “I’m gonna make your belly sour.”
He bit his lip, drawing blood, as the giant shook him like a rattle. Miserable, maniacal and mortified at the thought of being eaten, Venir fought against letting his efforts subside. Patience. He glanced up one last time into the hot, rotten breath of the giant that was now shadowed from an unknown source of light. As he twisted around, his eyes beheld something he never would have imagined: a forest, filled with an odd assortment of strange vegetation. Green, purple and white leaves hung from branches of trees that stood taller than the giant. The ground was a familiar red, red clay.
It could not be.
No, it was not the Red Clay Forest, but it could have been, aside from the fact that it was inside of a cave and illuminated by a million speckles of yellow and orange lights that littered the sky. There was fruit hanging in abundance: green apples, purple pears and deep red cherries the size of his hand. The deformed giant stuffed him into the high branches of one of the trees. His big ugly face had a smile as he patted his big belly.
“Hungry, little giant must eat?”
Venir fought the urge to stick his axe spike into its other eye, opting to stick it into the knotted grey branch instead. He crunched into the first fruit that he could grab. It was succulent and filling. Delicious. Three bites into it and the only thing left was the core. He climbed down along the trunk and plucked another apple from the branches. Nearby, the giant was stuffing handfuls of the tiny fruit into his big jaws. Venir kept his distance as he ate, Brool gripped at his side. He looked around the wondrous cave and felt just as lost as ever.
“Good? Belly full?“ One Eye said, with a throaty child-like voice.
Venir nodded.
“Now we play?”
Venir’s mind began its trek back into reality. As his ravenous hunger and thirst were quenched, his strength and sanity began to return. He had a choice: chop the scary looking giant down like rotting timber or let his insane journey in the Under Bish play out. He ran his thumb along Brool’s keen edge, drawing blood. Must be real.
He scanned his surroundings: trees as far as he could see, the ground covered with soft mosses, thick grasses and beds of flowers. It all had a dim hue, unnatural but not foreboding. He had the feeling he could live here for a while, in peace, not harming himself or anyone. He looked at his twelve foot tall captor and thought of Georgio, Kam, Lefty and even Melegal. He took another bite of fruit.
“What kind of game do you want to play?”
The giant stood up, big eye blinking an
d hands clapping.
“Name game,” he said, rubbing his belly.
“All right, what is your name?” Venir asked.
“No, no, we don’t play like that. You have to guess my name. I have to guess your name. See? Fun. Fun like that.”
Stupid like that.
“Well then,” Venir said as he swung Brool onto his shoulder and began to walk around. “If I guess your name, what do I win?”
“You get to play another game with me.”“No, that’s not good.” Venir rubbed his aching ribs and sighed. “I’ll need something better than that.”
“Like what?”
“I need to go home. To Bish, the world above this. Can you take me there if I win?”
“The river will take you there, but it’s a bad place. Don’t go there.”
Venir gawped. The other giant hadn’t lied. All he had to do was follow the river after all.
“BONE!” he swung his axe into a tree.
“Hey, don’t do that!” The giant warned him, storming over. “No hurt the tree.”
Venir ripped the axe out. His patience was lost as he bore down on the giant and stabbed it in the foot.
“OW!” It yelped, jumping up and down. “Why you hurting me?”
Pity and remorse for his action fled Venir as he looked upon the distraught giant’s ugly face.
“I need to get back to BISH now! Can you take me there? And remember, if you lie, I’ll cut your tongue out.”
Leaves and fruit fell from the trees, the giant’s ghastly scream was so loud. Venir covered his ears, but now was not the time for mercy. He would have his answers.
“I feed you, Little Giant, and you stab me. You don’t play nice.”
“Can you take me to Bish or not?”
“Not if you don’t play with me first,” the giant said, holding his bleeding foot.
One Eye cringed as Venir hoisted his axe over his head.
“S......top it! S...top it! Mean little giant!”
“You’ll live, you big one-eyed baby.” Venir poked him in the leg with Brool. “And no tricks.”
“I take you, you play with me.”
“NO! You take me and I promise I’ll find you someone to play with. I’ve got things to do.”
“Let me guess your name first.”
“It’s Venir.”
“No! Don’t tell me! Drat. You stink, Venir. You worse than the giants that don’t play with me cause I ugly.”
“Are you a runaway?”
“NO!”
Venir shook his head. He didn’t have time to deal with this nonsense. He wanted to go home.
“Just take me out of here.”One Eye pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face. Venir sighed. Perhaps he needed another approach, and seeing how he wasn’t starving to death he could exercise a little more patience. He grabbed a purple pear that filled his hand and took a hearty bite. Fruit wasn’t ever a steady part of his diet, just an occasional substitute for meat and bread when he was out on the hunt. It was tasty, not juicy like a steak of venison, but just as satisfying.
As his aggravations began to subside, the taut muscles in his broad shoulders began to soften. He stuck his axe in the ground.
“So, Giant, what is your name?”
The big bald head waddled back and forth.
“Nothing.”
“Is it Big Baldie?”
The giant grumbled a no.
“How about Dragon Rider?”
His head popped up, his big eye glimmering.
“No like that!”
“Ah … Dragon Crusher, then?”One Eye rose up from the ground to his full height, arms raised over twenty feet in the air, fists clenched. Venir grabbed Brool and stepped back into the trees. Oh no.
“Barton like that!” he bellowed, pounding his chest.
Yes! I’ve got his name.
“Ah …then it’s Barton the Dragon Crusher!” Venir yelled.
“Barton hate the dragons!”
“What about the one called Blackie?”
Barton’s eye widened beneath his uni-brow as he flopped to the ground and faced Venir.
“You know Blackie?”
“Yes. As a matter of fact, I clipped his wing with my axe after he tried to scorch my flesh from my bones. I sent him wailing into the mist yelping like a wounded dog.”
Barton poked his log sized finger into Venir’s chest.
“You not lie?”
“No.”
“Baron hate Blackie. Blackie always bring Barton home. That’s why I hide in this cave. Blackie no come in here and take me away. Barton safe.”
“Barton,” Venir said, “you also told me your name.”
“Huh … ah, stupid me!” he slapped his head.
“You have to take me back to Bish now, Barton. I won the game.”
“No,” Barton huffed.
“Barton, do the giants break their word to you?”
It frowned and said, “Yes.”
“Does it make you mad when they lie?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you’re doing the same thing to me. You don’t want to be like them, do you?”
Barton got up, scratching his chest, big eye blinking. Venir searched the eye of the giant. It was an odd creature, humanoid, scarred and misshapen, that moved more like a child than a man. Venir felt some sorrow for it, but now was not the time for compassion. Now was the time to find freedom. Come on, you lout, be honest this once. I don’t give a slat for the rest of the time.
“Barton, you get me out of here and I’ll tell you where to find a friend.”
It’d be pretty hard to sneak up on underlings with you around.
“You be my friend. I stay on Bish with you.”
“Sorry Barton, but I’ve got things to do there. I can’t take you where I’m going. All I can offer is a friend, here, that you can count on. He can take care of you, assuming he’s still alive.” He lied. Boon the wizard was dead in his mind by all accounts. He’d seen the giants swat him on the wall, and he figured if anything, he’d splattered like a bug. Of course, there was the were-rat too, a sly female of silky gray fur. The question was, had any of it at all been real? Barton seemed to confirm that. But, was Barton real? For all Venir knew, he was still walking along the river. Maybe he was even dead or imprisoned somewhere, for that matter.
“What? You try to give me a dead friend. What kind of friend is that? I’m not stupid!”
Yes you are.
“Either way,” Venir placed his fists on his hips, “you still have to take me home.”
Barton pounded his chest with his meaty hand, shaking his belly and saying, “I have honor.” A large tear dripped from his eye and splashed onto the ground. “I take you home, Venir, little giant.”
“Why do you call me that, little giant?”
“Hmmm,” Baron rubbed his chin and said, “maybe tiny giant better. You smell like a giant.”
Ew.
“I hope not.”
Venir didn’t understand the entire giant thing. It wasn’t the first time he had heard that, and he couldn’t help but think there was something to it.
“Hee hee, you funny, Venir. Mean, but funny.” Barton had a devious look in his eye. “Uh … Venir, I can’t take you with your stuff. Giant magic not like metal. You must leave it behind.”
The hairs stood up all over his body.
“I can’t do that,” he exclaimed.
“Then you have to stay,” Barton said, eyeing his axe with a keen interest.
Venir had the feeling the giant was lying and wanted the armament for himself. Toys to play with for an under grown man. Not so stupid after all, Barton had shown he had another card to play. What choice did Venir have but to believe him. Think. He had an idea.
“Tell you what, Barton: since you are helping me I’ll leave it all as a gift, to remember me by.”
“Really?”
“Yes, but first, one last game, for fun. I’m going to hide them in the forest here, so the
y’ll be safe. When you get back, you can have some fun finding them.”
“That does sound like fun. But don’t hide them too hard. Barton has trouble seeing sometimes.”
“All right, well can you turn around while I go and hide them? And no peeking.”
“Hee hee, this is fun. I’ll even count,” he said, turning his back to Venir. “One … Two …”
As Venir clutched his axe, he had the feeling now would be the best time to brain the brute. Maybe he didn’t need Barton after all Gonna have to trust him.
Venir dropped the armament into the sack along with several fruit. Why not. He folded the sack and stuffed it beneath his shirt.
“Well enough, I’m finished.”
Barton whirled around, dumbstruck.
“Already?”
“Yep, I made it easy,” Venir said, arms folded across his chest. “Can we go now?”
Barton pushed up some branches as he peered deeper into the grove of trees and said, “This will be easy.” He looked over at Venir, stroked his hair and added, “You look much better now. You have pretty hair like a girl, but you still make an ugly girl.”
Venir bit his tongue. You still make an ugly giant.
Barton extended his hand and said, “All right, it’s time to go. Hang on tight. I’m not very good at this.”
Venir grabbed the giant around the wrist and held on for dear life as he felt his body turn inside out.
CHAPTER 14
“Must you still be here?” Melegal slung his cap onto the mantle where a small fire blazed from underneath.
“You keep saying you’ll change the locks, but you never do,” Haze picked up his cap from the mantle and dusted it off before hanging it on a small nail beside the fire.
He sneered as he pulled off his boots and sat down in a pillowed high-back chair that sat in the corner near the fire. He didn’t give Haze a single glance as she pushed a stool beneath his feet. He laid his head back and closed his eyes, tracking every movement of Sefron in his mind. Magic. The sloppy cleric had foiled him again, and his head ached for it.
The Darkslayer: Book 04 - Danger and the Druid Page 9