I’m not the only one these fools need to worry about.
CHAPTER 11
Sinway stood in the courtyard of Castle Kling. All of the once-beautiful gardens were dead. Weeds and thorn bushes had taken over. The servants and gardeners who had cared for the castle were long dead too. The few Royals who yet lived had to do all the work themselves. Including meeting the needs of the underlings.
Several items played through Sinway’s mind.
The escape of Elypsa and his father, Sidebor, plagued him the most. Sidebor was dead. He felt it like a tremor in his bones. He needed to confirm it, so he had sent a small host of underlings into the Outlands to find out what happened.
A wary look was in Sinway’s iron eyes.
Four men in soldier’s uniforms knelt before him with their hands bound behind their backs.
Along with four underling soldiers, Ebenezer stood behind the prisoners, dressed in the full décor of a Royal soldier. Tall and well built, he had a neatly trimmed beard. A broadsword hung on his hip. The underlings wore dark leather armor and carried curved short swords on their hips.
“These are the culprits?” Sinway said, eyeing the shaking men. “They don’t look like fighters who could take down a force of my underlings.”
“These are the ones we captured in the middle of the scuffle,” said Ebenezer. “They outnumbered a pair of your soldiers. There were six. The other two resisted capture and are dead.” He placed his hand on the pommel of his sword. “I saw to it myself.”
Rubbing his chin, Sinway replied, “I see. So, a ragtag group of renegades is boldly slaughtering my underlings. What kind of weapons did they carry?”
“Knives and daggers. They used a net,” Ebenezer said. “There are many aspects to Bone that even I am not aware of. The citizens have been known to be fierce when they are pressed.”
“All of their spines should have been snapped by now!” Sinway looked at one of the prisoners and clenched his fist.
Crack!
The man’s spine snapped like a twig, and his body oozed onto the floor.
The other prisoners trembled and pleaded.
“Mercy, Lord Underling! Mercy!”
“Mercy. Pah.” Sinway eyed Ebenezer. The large warrior’s face had paled. “Where’s my catapult?”
Two royal soldiers wearing hauberks pushed a small catapult out of the castle’s armory and rolled it in front of Ebenezer. It was almost as tall as him.
He said to Sinway, “As you requested.”
Sinway’s eyes bore into Ebenezer.
The Royal bent over, picked up the dead body, and dropped it into a scoop that was barely big enough to hold it.
Sinway pointed at the wall. “Let’s see what happens.”
Ebenezer pulled back the handle.
The catapult launched the corpse head over heels. The body made a sickening smack when it hit the top of the wall.
The underling lord opened his arms into a grand gesture. “Please, continue the interrogation. I have to admit, this is mildly entertaining. The sound of them hitting the wall, it’s delightful. Now, let’s add some screams.”
***
Ebenezer looked at the man nearest the catapult. “Get in.”
The sad-faced man looked at Ebenezer and shook his head.
“Then tell me who put you up to the attacks on the underlings.”
Please, just say anybody.
The tiny part of Ebenezer that wasn’t terrified wanted to shake the men’s hands. They’d actually executed several underlings over the past few days. It had caught up with them. For every underling that went down, at least five people had been slain. But that tiny part of him yet held out hope. Someone somewhere was still fighting. “Out with it, man, and find mercy.”
“I’m an urchin. I fight for myself. All I want is what I wanted before. Scraps to feast on.”
“You’re no urchin, though you dress like a beggar.” Ebenezer grabbed the man’s hand and pushed his thumb into the calluses. “You’re a soldier. Who do you fight for?”
“My house is lost. I’m a survivor.”
“What house?”
“Almen.”
Ebenezer stepped back and looked at Sinway. “He comes from the collapsed castle. It’s quite possible there are many such renegades. We’ll root them out.” He eyed the two other Royal soldiers. “Ready the catapult.”
Rolling the catapult’s crank, the pair of men wound the scoop back and locked it into place.
“Stick him in,” Ebenezer said to his men.
“What?” the prisoner objected.
The soldiers dragged him up into the scoop.
“I told you what you wanted. I expected mercy. Please. I still have family.”
Ebenezer positioned himself by the catapult lever. “This is mercy.”
Wide-eyed and facing the wall, the man squirmed in his bonds. “But—”
The soldiers held him fast.
Ebenezer yanked back the lever.
The scoop was sprung, launching the man high in the air.
“Aiiiiieeeee!” the prisoner screamed. In a second, his body splatted and stained the inner castle wall with blood and toppled out of sight into the dead garden.
Rubbing his gauntlets together, Ebenezer nodded at his men. They cranked the scoop back once more. He didn’t enjoy what was happening, but he didn’t despise it. He did what he had to do to survive. He had to play this game carefully. He had seen what Sinway could do.
The fiend snapped a man’s spine with thought. Do whatever he wants.
“Load in the next man.”
Sinway held up his hand and wiggled his fingers. Two sand spiders emerged. “Ah yes, my pets, feast.” He pointed to the spot on the wall where the bodies had fallen.
The spiders crept away and vanished into the dead plants. A sickening sucking sound started within the hidden bushes. A man’s voice screamed.
“Ah, it seems one man still lives,” Sinway said.
Ebenezer’s stomach knotted.
I hate spiders.
The second to last prisoner shook uncontrollably when the soldiers put him in the scoop.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself? Who rallies these men to fight?” Ebenezer poked the man between the eyes. “Look at me. Tell me something useful. Where are they?”
The man’s eyes narrowed. He spat in Ebenezer’s face. “This is your fault! You Royals betrayed all of us to the under―”
In a flash, Ebenezer’s dagger snaked out of the scabbard and plunged into the man’s chest. He fired the catapult a moment later, nailing the top of the wall with the body, which collided with another sickening smack.
Sinway chuckled.
Ebenezer wiped the spit from his beard and stuffed his dagger back in the scabbard. He dragged the last prisoner by the collar toward the sound of the bloodsucking spiders. “Where are the rebels? Tell me!”
Kicking, the man screamed, “Castle Bloodhound! Castle Bloodhound!”
CHAPTER 12
On the stone cell bench next to Venir, Melegal said, “I think it’s high time we got out of here. It’s been three days.”
Billip and Nikkel were asleep on the floor, and there weren’t any signs of the women across from them in the other cell. It was just him and Melegal. The skinny thief had seen more than his fair share of danger in his company.
Venir scooped out some bucket water with a ladle and took a sip. “Now that’s some good water. Dwarven. The best.”
“Please stop with the nonsense,” Melegal replied. “Ram yourself through those bars or something.”
Venir leaned back against the cool surface of the stone wall. “Has it occurred to you we’re all safer in here than we’d be in the Outlands?”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Think about it,” Venir said. “As soon as we step outside Dwarven Hole, we’ll be up to our elbows in blood and guts.”
“You, maybe. I never wanted to get into a fight with anything. Well, maybe a feisty
woman from time to time.” Melegal eyeballed the other cell. “You know what I mean. All this fighting, it’s not for me. I just want a cozy room and enough coin to buy some decent wine.”
“You should have joined the man-urchins.”
“I think you killed them all.” Melegal put his face down in his hands. “Oh, Venir, the things you get me into.”
“You mean the things I get you out of―and let’s not start this again. I thought we were past it.”
“We are, but I have to remind you of all your flaws. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t.”
They sat in silence for a long while.
Venir had already counted all the cracks in the stone ceiling. On a small table, there were some dwarven cards none of them had figured out how to play. Billip, Nikkel, and Melegal had practiced tossing the cards into an empty bucket until they’d had a disagreement on how this should be done. They argued until the women screamed for them to be silent. That was yesterday. What would tomorrow bring?
Venir stood up and stretched out his arms until they touched the ceiling.
“You’re longer limbed than you look,” Melegal said to him. “Which is odd for a man built like an orc.”
“I’m not built like an orc.” Venir rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck. “It’s starting to get cramped in here, and it’s been awhile since we saw the jailer.”
Chin on his fist, Melegal replied, “At least they didn’t put Chongo in here.”
“Or Quickster. That donkey makes a large place as rank as a small one.”
“He’s not a donkey.” Melegal huffed. “You make me think of that boy.”
“Yeah, I know.” The thought of Georgio and Lefty tugged at Venir’s heart. He missed them both. He’d failed them. It made him wonder how Brak was doing. He grabbed the bars and started to tug on them. The steel was thicker than most. He didn’t think he could bend them even on his best day. He pressed his face to the metal and searched for the jailer. “Youuuuuuuuhoo.”
Melegal got up. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for the guard.”
“Don’t start with all the racket. I was enjoying the silence.” Melegal’s eyes drifted toward Elypsa’s cell. He pulled Venir back farther into theirs and spoke in a low voice. “Am I mad, or is that female underling not the most fetching creature you ever saw.”
The corners of Venir’s mouth went up. “I should say you’re sick, but she’s something. There seems to be ought different about her. No doubt she is a cutthroat and a liar, but…” He shook his head. “No, I’m not saying it.”
“Say it.”
“No.”
“Then I’ll say it,” Melegal said. “She doesn’t have the same murderous look most underlings do. She seems curious.”
Strange things had been happening of late. The entire City of Three had been poisoned by underlings, and men were working hand in hand with them. Venir imagined the situation in Bone was far worse. “We can’t all be fools, Melegal.”
“I know, but is it possible men and underlings can somehow thrive together?”
“I think you mean breed together.”
With a glimmer in his eye, Melegal approached the bars again. “Well, I always did have a thing for the strange ones.”
In the cell across from his, Venir noted a pair of eyes boring into Melegal’s starry-eyed gaze.
It was Jasper. “You’re sick,” she said to the rogue. “Truly sick.”
Melegal froze and faced Jasper. “I’m just curious, is all. It’s not as if you and your brood back in the City of Three weren’t open to relationships with the so-called ‘vilest of things.’”
Shaking his head, Venir said, “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”
Billip rose up onto his elbows. “What conversation?”
Melegal turned his back to Jasper and leaned back against the bars. “Whether or not the female underling is fetching.”
“Oh, she’s fetching I’ll say.” Billip yawned and scratched his head. “As a matter of fact, I think I was just dreaming about copulating with her. Then you loudmouths woke me up.”
“Need I remind everyone of all the deaths the underlings have caused?” Venir said. “The streets of men run red with their own blood! Melegal, I think you need to let go of this fantasy of yours.”
“It’s just idle conversation, and I had to check with my peers―present company included, believe it or not―so as to make sure I wasn’t mad.” Melegal glanced through the bars. “It’s clear I’m not the only one who is overcome with desire.”
“That underling has poisoned your mind,” Jasper said, stretching her hand through the bars. “Once I get close enough, I’m going to claw your eyes out.”
“I can’t wait until you try,” Melegal replied.
Venir’s hand with the two missing fingers started to throb. He rubbed it with his good hand. Something was wrong. The close quarters were wearing them all down, and Melegal’s comments were getting under his skin. He felt exposed. Vulnerable. A dangerous element lurked in the air. It had to be the underling―influencing them!
We need to get out of here.
“Venir,” Melegal said, “you don’t look well. What’s on your mind?”
“I’ve got a bad feeling if we don’t get out of here soon, someone is going to kill somebody.”
CHAPTER 13
The suns, red and orange, were dropping from the sky, making this the hottest part of the day. Fogle dabbed the sweat from his face with his sleeve. It had already been a long day. A hard day. He and Jubilee had spent hours getting Brak situated. The oversized young oaf had passed out with his arms locked around the trunk of a tree. His body twitched and convulsed. His complexion was peaked.
“Jubilee, get that stretcher over here,” Fogle said. “I think I can get him peeled away from this tree now.”
“You fools are not going to make it without my help,” Jarla said, laughing. She was sitting on the ground with her hands bound behind her back. “Death awaits you.”
Fogle reached down and picked up his spellbook, which he had found in Jarla’s pack. “Now that I have this, I can do just about anything I want―for me and for you.” He opened it up and thumbed through the pages. “Huh, here’s a good one. How to turn a bitter brigand into a dung pile in thirty syllables or less.”
Jarla leered at him. “You wouldn’t dare. Your eyes like grazing my thighs too much.”
Fogle slapped the spellbook shut. “True, but I can summon far better, and amiable too.”
Jubilee walked over, dragging a stretcher made from tents and long branches. She dropped it at Brak’s feet, grabbed her canteen, and gulped down some water. “You could have helped a little more, Fogle. Don’t you have a spell to make things quicker?”
“I need time to refresh my memory of a few things.” He pushed the stretcher with his foot, lining it up at a different angle in front of Brak, and then summoned a charge of energy into his fingertip. “Here goes something.” He touched Brak’s hands.
The big figure’s arms snapped open, and his body lurched, and he fell flat on his back two feet left of the stretcher.
“Fogle!” Jubilee knelt alongside Brak. “Be careful.”
Fogle chuckled. “I’m sorry, Jubilee. I’ll be more considerate of the ground next time.” He glanced at Jarla, who was frowning. “Oh, come on, even you must have thought that was funny.”
“Funny will be seeing the crows feasting on your tongue,” Jarla said, “while the rodents devour your entrails.”
“Are you always so morose?” Fogle said, taking a place on the ground alongside Jubilee. “You know, I used to be … well, not morose, but bitter and inwardly angry.”
“What are you doing?” Jubilee said to him.
“Oh, let’s roll him onto the stretcher.” With Jubilee’s help, he started to push and strain. “Lords of Three, he’s even heavier than a tree.” Together they managed to roll him over twice, fitting Brak awkwardly on the stretcher. Fogle gasped fo
r breath and reached for Jubilee’s canteen. “Phew.”
“Don’t drink it all,” Jubilee said.
Fogle guzzled it down, looked at Jarla, and said, “So, does Two-Ten City have good wine?”
“Two-Ten City? Hah!” She forced herself to her feet and approached him. “You aren’t going to make it any farther south than you already are. Did you not notice the lands are poisoned with underlings?”
“Now it’s my turn to laugh. Hah. You’ve survived quite well. I’m certain you can get us somewhere better than where we are right now.”
“I won’t be helping you,” she said.
“That will be to your own peril.” Fogle tucked his spellbook up under his arm. “And that’s fine by me. We’ve survived the Outlands before.”
“The Outlands are one thing, but the south’s landscape is an entirely different matter. The bugs down there will eat your faces.” With a playful look into Fogle’s eyes, Jarla said, “How about we make a deal?”
Eye to eye, Fogle patted her on the head. “Let me guess. I free you, and you lead us to safety.”
“I’m the only chance you have.” Jarla glanced at Brak, who was wriggling in the stretcher. “You won’t get very far with him like that. You need me.”
Jubilee tugged on Fogle’s robes and pulled him aside. “What are you doing? Shouldn’t we be going back and trying to find Venir right now?”
“The opportunity for rendezvous is over, Jubilee. Don’t think I haven’t considered it, but right now, we need to find safety.” He pushed the hair out of her eyes. “And I think going north is out of the question. The underlings have infiltrated the north, and I wouldn’t head there without an army. Sorry, but we’re just going to have to try something new and see what happens.”
Jubilee shrugged with her hands up. “See what happens? That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard. That’s your plan?”
The Darkslayer: Series 2 Special Edition (Bish and Bone Bundle Books 6-10): Sword and Sorcery Adventures Page 5