Jasper tried to punch him. “Do you hear yourself? She? It is an underling! It tried to kill all of us, and we should have killed it! Venir is sewn together on account of it.”
He released her hand. “Oh, he’ll be fine. He always is. Now, let’s not you and I get off on things.”
“Don’t ever visit it again, Melegal,” Jasper said. “I mean it.”
“I’ll do what I want when I want. You know that. Just let me satisfy my curiosity. Perhaps it will benefit us.”
Jasper’s demeanor softened. “Fine. I’m going to trust you. Just remember who your woman is. Me.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” He leaned toward her lips. “My dear.”
Jasper eased forward and punched the back of her fist into his gonads.
Melegal’s eyes watered as Jasper stormed away.
She showed him an unpleasant gesture. “Don’t make a fool of me, Melegal!”
“Well done,” he said through his teeth after her. “You’re getting more like me every day.”
CHAPTER 2
Dwarven Hole was a network of underground cities. The outermost part of the facilities was a series of roads and terraces that faced the gaping hole in the ground. Behind those strange roads in the enormous mouth of the volcano was a complicated tunnel system, cut from stone and decorated in marble and steel. It ventured deep into the world of Bish, and if one went far enough, the dwarves were still digging and building.
Venir sat inside a barn full of stalls that rivaled the size of the ones the Royals used in the City of Bone. Dwarves―smaller ones, unlike Mood and the rest of the one hundred Blood Rangers―milled about, muttering in Dwarven and singing robust tunes. They shoed horses, filled buckets from the everlasting troughs, shoveled manure, and fed the livestock. They did it all with purpose. Everything the dwarves did had intent.
Venir wondered how many dwarves there were. Thousands? Tens of thousands? Perhaps their numbers were even in the hundreds of thousands. It was hard to tell, because he never saw many of them together at once, and they all looked kind of the same. Long haired and bearded.
The huge beast Venir leaned back against let out a sigh. It was Chongo. His two-headed dog had his own stall, and the gate was never closed. Each of the dog’s massive heads was like four of Venir’s in one. One of Chongo’s heads panted with his big black-and-pink tongue hanging out. It licked Venir’s arm. The other head’s mouth was closed, but his ears were perked up.
Venir reached back and scratched Chongo’s licking head behind the ears. “I’m so glad you’re back, boy. I missed you. I knew you would take care of Mood, though. He needed you.”
Chongo licked Venir’s face.
“I’m fine, just fine,” Venir said with a smile. His cheek tingled.
There was something about Chongo’s licks that made him feel better. The female underling had carved him to bits. Skin hung from his muscles. The aching in his body throbbed from head to toe. When he and Chongo had united days ago, the dog had licked him up and down. The pain had eased. His torn skin had mended somewhat. The dwarvess healers had done the rest.
Venir lifted his right arm and eyed the stitches that ran from his elbow to his wrist from a nasty gash that had torn through the muscle.
“Now that’s a beauty mark. Not even your spit could heal that one.”
Venir laid his head back farther into Chongo’s side. The big dog’s fur was soft, his breathing easy but powerful. The dog gave Venir a sense of security he never had with anyone else. Chongo took care of him, whereas Venir took care of everyone else.
“Remind me to never send you away again.”
Chongo offered a friendly whine and licked his shoulder.
“I know. I know. We’ll walk in a little bit. Let’s just rest for now. It’s been a while.”
As far as Venir knew, Chongo was as old as he was. Thirty or more, and ordinary dogs didn’t live that long. Dwarven Setters like Chongo were bred by the dwarves, and being so they tended to live a long time. Chongo didn’t look any older than he ever did, and as far as Venir was concerned he hoped Chongo would live as long as he did, unlikely as that might be.
Chongo snorted and lowered his heads to the ground.
In the days Venir had been back, things had been quiet. He’d shared a short embrace with Mood and little else. Mood had a fire in his emerald eyes. A greater purpose. The King of the Blood Rangers was also the king of all dwarven kind, and he made it clear he’d had enough of the underlings. Huzzah!
The word echoed in Venir’s mind. War was coming. Real war. For the first time in a long time, Venir felt like he wouldn’t have to wage his war against the underlings alone. As for Mood and his journey back from the Mist, that was a mystery Mood would just have to share with them later.
Venir closed his eyes, drifted off to sleep, and let the dark and dangerous days ahead fade from his mind.
Later, Chongo stirred.
Venir opened up his blurry eyes and rubbed them with his fists.
“Are you ever going to leave here?” said a soft but strong woman’s voice.
Kam was dressed in a pale-green cotton gown that enhanced her figure. The curl and shine were back in her auburn hair. Her pretty eyes and skin had softened.
Erin hugged her mother’s knees, pushed away, and teetered straight for Venir.
He picked his daughter up and lifted her high.
Erin squealed with delight.
One of Chongo’s heads barked.
“Well, at least the three of you are happy,” Kam said with a faint smile.
“You aren’t happy?” Venir said. He placed Erin on top of Chongo’s back. “You should be. You look magnificent. As a matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so beautiful before.”
“Is that why you’re sleeping with your dog and not me?”
Venir started to rise.
“No, stay put,” she said, walking over and sitting down in his lap. She gave him a long kiss. “I missed you, and it wasn’t easy finding you. Don’t stay away so long.”
“I thought you might need some time. You know me.” He grinned. “Sometimes I can be pushy.”
She leaned into his broad chest. “Venir, one thing I have realized is we don’t get enough time together. I certainly have had my faults with that. But now, it’s best we take as much time together as we can and enjoy it.”
“I’m enjoying this.”
She closed her eyes. “So am I, but the smell might take some getting used to.”
“Are you suggesting I need a bath?”
“I think it’s been too long since we shared a bath.” Her hand ran down his chest and over his stomach and kept inching downward. “The dwarves have wonderful yurts filled with steam.”
Venir swallowed. His blood rushed. With Kam in his arms, he rose on his legs and started out of the stable.
“What about Erin?” Kam said with her finger toying with his ear.
He glanced at the little girl crawling around on Chongo’s back, slapping at his tails. “She couldn’t be safer. They’ll keep each other entertained for hours.”
“Hours?” Kam said with a purr.
Venir scuttled out of the stable smiling from ear to ear. “And they say the hours are longer in Dwarven Hole.”
CHAPTER 3
The first dawn broke. The bright sun peeked between the monster branches inside the Great Forest of Bish. Jubilee lay on top of her bedroll, eyeing trees that seemed to stretch into the sky as far as the eye could see.
A shadow fell over her. A cold voice spoke.
“What are you waiting for? Get this camp picked up,” Jarla said. The raven-haired woman’s hands were on Jubilee, and her scowl was as unpleasant as ever. The scars on her face only made it worse. “Move it!”
Jubilee jumped up to her feet and started rolling up her blanket.
Jarla grabbed her by the back of the hair and pulled her up to her toes. “Pack my brigands’ things, not your own!” She shoved Jubilee away.
<
br /> Head down and without looking back, Jubilee trudged into the camp, where the men were starting to wake. She avoided their hungry gazes.
I hate these men. I hate that woman.
She kneeled down and rolled up a bedroll. It had been more than a week since she, Fogle, and Brak had become part of Jarla’s camp. Jubilee was the only other woman and a very young one.
To her credit, Jarla had made it clear no hands were to touch Jubilee. Two men had tried. One died by Jarla’s blade. The other lost his grabby hand.
Someone bumped into Jubilee, knocking her on her butt. It was a half-orc with a face like chewed leather and one nostril bigger than the other. His beady eyes leered at her. His tongue licked the ragged moustache over his lip.
Jubilee glanced Jarla’s way. She parted her lips. “Jar—”
The half-orc brigand hissed out a curse, turned his back, and departed.
“Halt!” Jarla shouted from the other side of the camp.
The half-orc froze.
Jubilee’s heart raced.
Jarla marched straight toward her and the half-orc brigand. His head was downcast. The stirring camp now froze.
Jarla said to the half-orc, “Look at me.”
Shoulders slumped, his eyes met her hard gaze.
“Did you touch the girl?”
The half-orc nodded.
“Have you no tongue? Answer me!”
“Yes, my queen. I bumped her. It was a mistake. Apologies.”
“Oh,” Jarla said, glancing at Jubilee. “So he apologized to you?”
Chin up, Jubilee responded, “No, he did no such thing. He just knocked me into the dirt and stared me down like roasted meat.”
The half-orc’s eyes widened. He shook his head. “My queen, it was an accident. I did not notice the child in my path. She is small like a rodent.”
“That she is,” Jarla said, withdrawing a dagger. She tapped it in the palm of her hand. “Listen to your queen, brigands! I cannot continue to maim you for all of your indiscretions. We have been in the wild too long. You need female company. You need ale. Today we ride for Two-Ten City!”
The brigands let out a rousing cheer, and many together said, “Aye!”
“But my orders cannot be ignored. Discipline must be maintained.” She glared at the half-orc. “Whatever happens, do not scream. Your life depends on it. Prove yourself worthy.”
The half-orc swallowed and nodded.
Jarla flicked the dagger down.
Thunk!
The blade pierced the half-orc’s foot.
The half-orc squeezed his eyes shut. He bit his lip, and his shoulders tremored.
Jarla nodded.
Jubilee stomped on the dagger in his foot.
The half orc screamed. “Yeeooow!”
Jarla’s longsword scraped out of her sheath. She stabbed the orc through the heart.
Glitch.
***
On foot, Fogle walked behind the slow-moving caravan of brigands weaving its way through the great forest. Most of the men were on foot and traveling with light packs on their backs. A handful of others were on horseback. He traveled in the rear.
A couple of brigands were nearby. They were always nearby.
Glancing ahead, Fogle tripped over a root sticking out of the ground. His head clonked off a nearby tree. Wrists bound in front of him, he pushed himself up to his feet and cursed.
“Having trouble with your feet?”
Fogle looked up.
Jarla sat tall in the saddle of her horse, Nightmare. Her hair was in long braids.
He wasn’t sure which one scared him more: her or the horse. The dapple-gray mount had wild fire in its big eyes. He dusted himself off the best he could. “No, I’m having trouble with my hands.”
“That’s too bad, but at least you have them, wizard.”
“How is Brak doing? I haven’t seen him in days.”
“He is no concern of yours.”
Nightmare nickered and snorted.
“And Jubilee? I understand there was some activity today.” He scratched his cheek. “You’ll have to forgive me, but my isolation doesn’t leave me privy to all the gossip.”
“She still lives is all you need to know, but she is becoming a bit of a distraction.” Jarla leaned over in the saddle. The chainmail shirt she wore fell open, revealing a glance at her chest. “My brigands can only handle so many distractions.”
“I can see that,” Fogle said. He eased closer to her. “I marvel you can keep so many in order. You’re an incredible … leader.”
“Are you being coy with me, wizard?”
“I’m only admiring you. Clearly you are cut from a different cloth. I can see it in your face. Those high cheekbones. Your prominent chin.” He made his way to the side of her horse and stared up into her eyes. “I find you fascinating, yet I’m disappointed you have chosen to take up with my colleague.” He palmed his chest. “It saddens the heart.”
She showed a faint smile. “More like the groin.”
“I’m not without my passions, and they are only amplified in the presence of one such as you.” He sighed.
Jarla huffed a laugh. “I’m astounded you’d try to seduce me.”
“I’m only trying to establish a trust in your audience by being honest. My time with you is so brief I need to make the most of it when I’m with you.” He cleared his throat. “And seeing how every moment more that I stay in your company poses more peril to my life, I say why the Bish not.”
“Are your hands as good as your tongue?”
Brows lifted, he replied, “I like to think they are even better.”
“Good to know.” She motioned to her guards. “Gag him.”
CHAPTER 4
Venir sat on a padded leather chair. He was in a common room where dwarves passed from time to time. A fire burned in a stone fireplace nearby. The mystic sack, made of worn leather and stitched up all over, lay folded in his lap. He rubbed the fabric between his thumb and fingers and stared into the fire.
“It’s been long since we’ve seen the daylight,” said a voice nearby.
In a similar chair adjacent to Venir sat Billip. He had a jug of wine on his lap, and his eyes were closed. “I don’t know how the dwarves go without sunlight so long. Or where the smoke of those fires goes.”
Nikkel sat in a chair beside Billip. The young man leaned forward. “I like the accommodations. Especially the strange women. Those stubby fingers are magical. I’d hate to leave.” He flicked into the fire a stick he’d been whittling on. “But I miss those blazing suns above.”
Venir’s hand missing the two lower fingers trembled. He shifted in his chair and smoothed his hands over the sack. Inside should be his weapons and armament, but he hadn’t taken them out since he arrived. And Trinos was gone, inside the sack. It didn’t make sense to him at all, and he wasn’t in any mood for surprises the next time he opened it. He laid the sack on the armrest and leaned his elbow on top of it. “I’ve had about all the hospitality I can stand. I’m ready to get back out there.”
Billip took a swig from his red clay jug. “It’s a shame we cannot take longer advantage of it. A lifetime’s worth.”
“It wouldn’t be so bad if they gave us something to do,” Nikkel said.
“We are guests in Mood’s kingdom,” said Venir, “but we won’t be guests forever. Something’s brewing. I can feel it.”
No one answered him. The fire crackled. Somewhere, works of iron turned, and there was always the sound of hammers on metal. It was a steady rhythm, like a steady rain, soothing sometimes and other times stimulating.
Venir took in a deep draw of air through his nose. His chest expanded. He hadn’t felt so good in years. Perhaps decades. He sat up in his chair. “I believe I’ve lost all track of time. How long have we been in here?”
“I’d say a month,” Mikkel replied.
“I think a year,” Billip said. He set the jug down. “Perhaps it’s time you searched Mood out.”
/> “They have customs here we are strangers to. Clearly they don’t like questions.” Venir stood, grabbed the sack, and slung it over his shoulder. “I’m going to take a walk, toward the top. Anyone coming?”
“I tried a week ago, and the dwarves barred my passage,” Billip said. “One of them threatened to stick his hand axe up my arse.”
Nikkel laughed. “He sure did. Oh, the look on your face.”
“Shaddup.” Billip got up. “Well, I suppose it’s time to greet them again. He can’t shove the axe up all our arses.”
Venir chuckled. “Let’s go.”
***
Melegal slid out from under the bed linens, donned his clothing, and headed toward the exit of the dwarven bungalow. It was an odd establishment, a small building of wood sitting inside the rocky cavern like a home on the prairie. He liked it. It was comfortable and without the hazardous elements. There wasn’t any foul weather, or rodents, carrion-eating birds, or insects to deal with. He grabbed the knob on the door.
A shock went right to his bones.
Zzzt!
“Gah!” He shook his tingling hand.
Jasper sat up in the bed. “Sneaking out to see your female fiend?”
He looked at his red hand and back at Jasper. “You sneaky little witch.”
“Me? You’re the one who wants to go cavorting with underlings.” She leaned over the other side of the bed and grabbed a dark cotton shirt and slipped it over her bare body. “Wherever you go, I go from now on.”
“You’re getting ridiculous.” He touched the knob with the tip of his finger. The shock was gone. He didn’t make any further efforts to shake Jasper, though, knowing that would only make matters worse.
This is getting old.
“If you’re coming, then please come. But I’m going to check on this matter.”
“No, we are going to check on this matter.” Jasper tugged on her boots and combed her fingers through her black hair. “I’m a bit ashamed of you, meddling with underlings.”
“If she was such a threat, I’m certain the dwarves would have killed her. They are keeping her around for some reason, and I want to know what.” He pulled the door open. “Let’s go, little lady.”
The Darkslayer: Series 2 Special Edition (Bish and Bone Bundle Books 6-10): Sword and Sorcery Adventures Page 2