THE DARKSLAYER:
BISH AND BONE SERIES 2
BOOKS 6 THRU 10
BRIGANDS AND BADLANDS: BOOK 6
WAR IN THE WASTELAND: BOOK 7
SLAUGHTER IN THE STREETS: BOOK 8
HUNT OF THE BEAST: BOOK 9
THE BATTLE FOR BONE: BOOK 10
THE DARKSLAYER: BISH AND BONE: SERIES 2 (BOOKS 6 – 10)
By Craig Halloran
Copyright © November 2017 by Craig Halloran
Amazon Edition
TWO-TEN BOOK PRESS
P.O. Box 4215, Charleston, WV 25364
ISBN eBook: 978-1-946218-33-9
ISBN Paperback: 978-1-946218-34-6
THE DARKSLAYER is a registered trademark, #77670850
www.thedarkslayer.com
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recorded, photocopied, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.
Publisher's Note
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
MAP
DS LOGO
BOOK 6: BRIGANDS AND BADLANDS
Prologue
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
Epilogue
BOOK 7: WAR IN THE WASTELAND
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43 (Epilogue)
BOOK 8: SLAUGHTER IN THE STREETS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
BOOK 9: HUNT OF THE BEAST
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
EPILOGUE
BOOK 10: THE BATTLE FOR BONE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
EPILOGUE
FROM THE AUTHOR
OTHER BOOKS AND AUTHOR INFO
MAP
DS LOGO
BOOK 6: BRIGANDS AND BADLANDS
Prologue
Bish’s suns were high, the Outland sand hot. Pall the blood ranger trudged headlong into the stiff wind. His red leather armor was soaked with sweat, the machetes on his back hot to the touch. His blood red beard was full of grit from the blowing earth. He spat
sand from his mouth and marched toward the mirages that popped up over the sun-cracked horizon, only to disappear again when he got closer.
“You two aren’t much company.” He glanced over his shoulder.
There was no reply. He marched on at the steady pace of a giant dwarven soldier. His legs were like tree trunks of iron, strong as a horse’s. He’d walked two straight days and not stopped. He didn’t drink and didn’t eat. He was a blood ranger, and he was on a mission.
Pall dropped his calloused grip on the rope he was tugging along behind him. He spat in his hands and rubbed them together then cocked his head to one side and took a knee, sticking his hand to the ground.
The tiniest tremor vibrated his fingertips.
His eyes narrowed under his bushy brows, and he rose back up.
“It seems we have company, lads.”
Riders approached. They made straight for Pall.
The blood ranger drew his machetes and stuck them tip first in the ground. Most often he traveled alone. Almost all the time he moved undetected. Here in the middle of the Outlands, there was nowhere to hide.
The riders slowed to a trot, formed a line in front of Pall, and came to a stop. They were orcs. Their coarse hair was long and wild. They carried spears and wore no armor. Their bodies were painted black and white. Their faces were savage and cruel.
Pall spoke in Orcen to them. “Move on.”
There were five orcs in all.
The one in the center was the biggest and broadest. His nose was a flat, pig-like snout, and a pair of small tusks protruded from his mouth. His language was rough when he spoke. “I know your kind. Blood rangers. Slaughter many kin.”
“I’ll be slaughtering many more if you don’t move on,” Pall stated.
“We are many, you are one.” The orc leader raised his spear and rattled the tiny bone fingers of the slain that were attached to it.
The other orcs responded, creating a clamor.
“Your body will be our prize!” The orc leader narrowed menacing eyes on the blood ranger.
Pall stuck his thumb and finger in his mouth and blew out a shrill whistle.
The horses reared up, whinnied, neighed, and bucked.
One by one, the orcs fell from the horses, and the steeds galloped away.
Pall snatched up his machetes and closed in on the leader.
Like an agile beast, the orcen brute was on its feet, spear ready. It charged with alarming speed.
Pall sheared the spear tip off with his first swing and sunk his machete full through the orc’s belly with his second.
The orc howled and died all at once.
Something bit into the back of Pall’s shoulder.
Hands filled with dwarven steel, he chopped down the assaulting orc, removing its right arm at the shoulder.
Two other orcs flanked Pall with their spears, jabbing at his chest.
“Yer stabbing, but yer feet ain’t moving.” Pall marched forward.
The orcs backpedaled and jabbed.
Pall slashed the tip off the next poking spear.
Chucking its broken spear at Pall, that orc turned and ran.
The blood ranger eyed the other two orcs and said in their coarse language, “There’s nothing I’d rather do than kill the both of you. What’s it going to be?”
The orcs let out a harrowing battle cry and attacked.
Pall batted their spears away with the flats of his blades and centered himself between the two of them. He taunted them both. “Come on, stupids!”
They charged him from both sides.
Moving with agility that belied his girth and size, Pall glided out of harm’s way.
The orcs skewered one another.
Glitch! Glitch!
Still standing with their jaws agape, they died.
“They fall for it every time. Stupid orcs.”
Pall cleaned his blades off on the dead and turned toward the cargo he was dragging. Two cocoon-like shapes were tethered up to his rope. One was the size of a large man, the other much smaller. He took a knee alongside the strange bodies and tested the bonds. “Good.”
He poked at the strange skin covering his cargo. The skin was gray-green and splotchy. Pall was ancient and knew many things. Every creature, no matter how deadly, had other uses. The balfrog was rare and contained many qualities. Its skin and life-rich juices could preserve bodies for a long, long time. He grabbed the ropes and started dragging the bodies over the rugged landscape again.
“Come on, lads. It won’t be long before those orcs start stinking more than they already do.”
Pall traveled another half day and stopped after the first sunset. From his leather pouch he pulled a small round rock. It had a tiny red glow. He rubbed his nose and looked around. At last, one of his brows arched high.
“There you are.”
He approached a pile of rocks. Stone by stone, he tossed them off until he found the soft dirt of a grave. He scooped it out handful by handful until his hand found another. He pulled the corpse of Boon out of the dirt. The wizard’s body had not rotted. Pall knocked the dust off of Boon like he was beating an old rug and then laid him down. He opened the old wizard’s jaw, stuck the glowing rock inside his mouth, and closed it back again.
“I’m not used to you being so quiet.”
He removed the large rucksack from his shoulders, opened it, and took out another layer of balfrog hide. He dragged Boon into it, sprinkled some balfrog juice over the body from a vial he had, wrapped the dead wizard up from head to toe, and bound him up with strands of hemp rope. He fixed Boon into his travois with the others, loaded up his gear, and hefted the rope over his shoulders.
With the second sun dying in the distance, he resumed his march, bodies dragging behind him, clear through the night and into the next day without stopping. He moved west, somewhere between Dwarven Hole and Hohm City.
“What’s that you said?”
From time to time, Pall looked back at his comrades. They were still nothing more than cocoons in frog flesh. He hummed dwarven tunes. Sometimes he laughed. Other moments he bellowed. Day passed to night and the night passed to day before he finally came to a stop again.
“We’re here.”
A giant wall of white-gray mist rose up higher than the eye could see. It stretched for leagues left and right of his position. Goose bumps rose on his arms. Pall took a deep breath and headed into the mist.
“I hope I still remember where I’m going.”
CHAPTER 1
The female underling was the most magnificent creature Melegal had ever seen. Her hair was white as cotton and smooth as silk. She lay on a leather cot, and he sat on a stool beside her. She didn’t move, yet she breathed easy. Her limbs were like noodles. He touched her forehead with the back of his hand. She was cool to the touch.
Her eyes fluttered open and locked on Melegal’s. They were like lavender pearls, beautiful and penetrating.
It was the first time Melegal had seen them open since they’d arrived in Dwarven Hole. He hadn’t thought she would survive or that the dwarves would even allow her within, yet they had, and they’d given her excellent care too. It was strange.
A pair of dwarvesses bustled through the chamber. They were short and amply built. Each wore robes the color of ivory, and they had pleasant looks on their dwarven faces. One of them took fresh towels from a crevice carved in the stone, and the other headed for a tub made from solid pewter. A fireplace was roaring near the tub, and steam rose from the water. The second dwarven woman added salt to the water, drawing forth some bubbles and hisses.
Melegal eyed the chimney that disappeared into the rock ceiling and wondered where the smoke went. He glanced back at the female underling. The fire wasn’t in her eyes anymore, the confidence of a slayer. She had battled toe to toe with Venir, had been a wonder of grace and whirling steel. Her gifts were gone. Helplessness had replaced her confidence.
He grabbed a damp cloth from a bucket of water and wiped her face
down. “You wake.”
She said something in Underling. A chitter of sorts. It was harsh.
“I’d mind your tone. I marvel you live, being an underling and all.”
“I marvel you live, being a human and all.”
Melegal’s brows lifted. “So you can speak Common. How marvelous. Maybe if you had spoken up sooner, you would not be in your helpless position.”
“You’re the one whose mule kicked me.”
“It saved your life.” Melegal wiped the water from her brow with his thumb. “You were about to be turned into vulture food.”
Her eyes slid around the room. “Where am I?”
“Dwarven Hole.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t look at him. “And who are you?”
“Melegal. And you are?”
She paused, but then her lips parted. “Elypsa.”
“A fair name for a fair maiden.”
Her nose crinkled up. “You’re going to torture me, aren’t you.”
“No, not I, but I can’t say the same about the dwarves.” He took her face and turned it toward the tub. “I do believe they are about to boil you to death.”
She didn’t blink. “It doesn’t smell like death.”
“No, it’s quite aromatic actually.” He fanned his hand under his nose. “Refreshing. I think the dwarves are going to torture you gently.”
The two dwarvesses appeared alongside Melegal. One of them took him by the hand and led him out of the room into a hallway. The other dwarvess removed the towel from Elypsa, picked her lithe frame up, took her to the tub, and placed her within the waters. Melegal could still see the top of her head when he rose up on his tiptoes.
“I’ll see you soon, Elypsa.”
The door closed behind him. Something stirred within him.
Is that sympathy, or is it lust? Such a strange sensation.
“Elypsa.” He adjusted his cap and turned down the corridor―and came to a quick halt in front of Jasper.
She had a dark and angry look in her eyes. “How did I know I would find you here?”
“I’m just checking the status of the prisoner.”
“I see the way you look at that thing! Remember what you told me about underlings back in the City of Three, how they are killers?” She shoved him in the chest. “Remember the unpleasant talk we had?”
“There have been so many—”
“Let me give you a reminder!” Jasper slapped at his face.
Melegal snatched her hand. “Oh, that conversation. Point taken, my little mystic lady, but I don’t think your jealous bones should rattle over a paralyzed woman.”
The Darkslayer: Series 2 Special Edition (Bish and Bone Bundle Books 6-10): Sword and Sorcery Adventures Page 1