Two men were dead, five remained. The royal soldiers galloped right at them. Billip dove away from thundering hooves. He rolled up to a knee and shot the rider in the back. A fourth horseman rode right over him. Bones cracked. Fire shot through his limbs. With his chest burning, he fought his way to one knee and pulled the bow string back. “Aargh! My shoulder’s busted.”
Nikkel yanked a rider from the saddle and clubbed the man in the face with the butt of his crossbow. A rider bore down on Nikkel with a spear poised at the big youth’s back.
“Nikkel, look out!”
The rider flipped the spear right between the youth’s broad shoulders. Nikkel flung his arms wide and gasped.
“No!” Billip yanked back the string. Muscle and sinew tore. Gritting his teeth, he let the arrow fly. The shaft lodged itself between the man’s ribs. The man rode on until he finally fell to the ground.
Nikkel lay face-first in the dirt. There were two riders left. Billip couldn’t move his arm. They lowered their spears and came right at him.
CHAPTER 10
Georgio stood ankle deep in the lake, eating red fruit. He devoured it to the core and flung it into the foamy green waters of the lake. The core skipped once and sank. He let out a long sigh. The sound carried through his strange surroundings. The garden was lush with shrubbery, pelted with a variety of colorful little flowers. The tree bore fruit that hung down from the sagging branches with leaves that cast soft light. Water poured out of the rocks that surrounded the grassy sanctuary.
Stepping onto the soft ground of the bank, he called out, “Lefty! Lefty!” His eyes squinted. “Great, he’s hiding again. Or exploring.” He walked underneath a tree that had white bark and plum-colored leaves. There was no sign of Lefty in the branches. Without any sun or moon to go by, Georgio had no idea how long he’d been where he was. “Lefty!”
Lefty sneaked in behind Georgio. “Oh, stop yelling. It’s not as if I have somewhere to go. This place isn’t that big.”
“Well, quit hiding all of the time, and I won’t have to yell for you,” Georgio replied.
“I wasn’t hiding.” Lefty rolled up his sleeves over the elbows of his little arms. “I was just looking around, like I always do. Nothing but mist, mist, mist. I’m sick of mist.”
Georgio plucked a fruit from the tree and threw it into the lake. “I’m sick of fruit. I need some meat, cheese, and biscuits!” He bumped his head into a thick branch. “I want real food with gravy on it,” he moaned.
“Yes, me too. I just wish I understood how in the world we wound up in this…place.” Lefty moved over to the lake and walked out on some smooth rocks that jutted out over the water. He dipped his toes in the water. Under the surface lay a large rock shaped like a man. Red moss coated the edges of the rocky formation. The head of the rock looked like the face of a man. He squinted. “I swear that is Pall. He had to have brought us here. I think he saved us somehow and turned into that rock.”
Georgio lumbered over with his heavy arms swinging. “What are you talking about?”
“That rock. It reminds me of Pall. Georgio, what do you remember before we got here?”
“I don’t know. There was a huge frog we were fighting. I was suffocating. I’m pretty much an empty slate after that.”
“You we’re an empty slate to begin with.” Lefty grinned. Georgio frowned. “You know I’m teasing. Georgio, I feel a nagging in my chest that I’m responsible for this. I’ll get us out. I swear.”
“You can’t blame yourself for everything. I’m fine. You’re fine. We’ll find a way out together.” The mist hung over the top of them like clouds. The rock walls that surrounded them were sheer but climbable. He and Lefty had climbed them before only to reach the top and find more of the endless mist. Goosebumps had broken out over both of them, so they’d climbed back down, eaten, and waited. “Soon, I hope. This is depressing.”
“Yes, we have everything we need to live but nothing to live for.” Lefty kicked some water. “I suppose this is the mist that Venir talked about. He survived it.”
“He can survive anything.” Georgio looked at his reflection in the rippling waters. His face had a beard coming in. Lefty had more scruff on him too. The little man’s eyes had hardened. “Do I look different to you?”
“Huh?” Lefty broke his gaze from the waters. “Oh, well, you look different, I suppose. More manly, I’d say. Like a veteran of a thousand battles.”
Georgio puffed up. “Really?”
“Yes. And me?”
“You used to look like you were about twelve, but now I’d say you could pass for thirteen.”
Lefty kicked water at him.
“Fine, eighteen, maybe twenty. I don’t guess it matters how we look now anyway.” He locked his meaty fingers into his curly locks. “I need a steak. Lefty, we need to get out of here. I don’t think I can stand it much more. It’s so boring.”
“Maybe we should build something.”
“Like what? With what? We don’t have any tools.”
“Yes we do. We have your sword and my dagger. A few other things.”
“So, you want to chop down these trees? For what? Firewood? We don’t need it.”
“Maybe we’ll build a bridge or a gazebo.”
Georgio rolled his eyes.
“You’re right. It’s a stupid idea, but we can’t sit around and do nothing.” Lefty looked up. “But I do like climbing those trees.”
“Climb away then. I prefer the ground myself.”
A stone bounced down from the rocky walls on the other side of the lake. Georgio and Lefty looked right at one another. Another stone clacked down the rock face. It bounced off a boulder and into the murky lake. Barely visible through the thin veil of mist, something big and bulky slowly climbed down the sheer walls.
Georgio and Lefty backed up. Georgio’s heart shot through his throat. Without even realizing it, he was climbing into the nearest branches of a tree. Up the branches he went. Lefty cruised upward twenty feet above him. The giant jumped from the rocks, hitting the ground so hard it shook the branches and sent waves through the lake water.
The giant creature took a long, slobbering snort.
Every hair rose on Georgio’s neck. He shot a glance up at Lefty. The halfling’s chin trembled.
A heavy, gusty sigh came from the monster. On heavy feet that pounded the ground, the monster came right at them and spoke in a voice that filled the sanctuary. “I smell something. I don’t like it.”
Georgio slipped. The leaves rustled.
Feet pounding the ground, the giant rushed over. Huge hands burst through the leaves and snagged Georgio in a powerful two-handed grip. Lefty screamed.
CHAPTER 11
Seconds from getting gored at the point of a spear, a great black mare thundered past Billip. The horse slipped between the spears like it was shot out of the night. The rider on the black horse swung, and the royal knight’s head leapt from his shoulders and hit the dusty ground.
The last royal knight sped by Billip and galloped toward the city. That was when Billip got a full look at his savior, Jarla the Brigand Queen. With a snap of her reins, she galloped after the last royal.
Panting, Billip got up and staggered over to Nikkel. The spear stuck deep into the meat of the young man’s shoulder, inches from the spine. “Do you breathe?”
“I told you there were eight riders.” Nikkel turned his limp neck Billip’s way. “Is the wound bad? The skies turn black.”
“It’s still night. But yes, the wound’s bad. You’re bleeding like a gutted cow.” Billip applied pressure with his hand. “You need to be stitched up fast. Don’t move.”
“How can I? I can’t feel my extremities.” Nikkel spit blood. He wheezed. “Why am I bleeding from my mouth if I was stabbed in the back?”
“I’d say your lung got popped.” Billip hustled off. A horse stood nearby. “Easy, fella. You need a rider. Don’t get itchy.” With his shoulder on fire, he snagged the reins. “Ah, good.”
>
Jarla rode back. She was stark and glorious in the saddle. “He lives?”
“For now.” Billip helped Nikkel to his feet. “Did you kill that last one?”
“Of course, but the slaying didn’t go unnoticed. They come.”
Billip peered toward Bone. A mob of riders was coming. “Slat!” He shoved Nikkel up into the saddle, mounted the horse, and stuffed his feet in the stirrups. “Hold on to your life, boy.”
“I’m a man.” Nikkel locked his arms around Billip’s waist. “But I feel as strong as a baby.”
“Where are you going?” Jarla asked.
“Black Columns. Yah!” The horse took off at a gallop. Jarla caught up, and together they raced through the night. Billip felt Nikkel’s grip loosening. “You can’t let go, Nikkel!” A quick glance back showed their pursuers were gaining. Jarla’s horse was big and fast, but Billip’s smaller horse was slowed by the weight of the two men. The horse labored and snorted with everything it had. “Yah! Yah! Yah!” Billip dug his heels into its ribs and screamed.
The Black Columns waited, huge and vast, but they didn’t seem to be getting any closer. They raced on, a mile, a league, with the wind rushing by their ears. The enemies’ horse hooves became louder. Their pursuers’ threatening voices were clear. There wasn’t ten horse lengths between them.
“You keep riding,” Jarla shouted. “I’ll handle them!”
“Don’t be mad. There must be ten of them,” he shouted back.
“When it comes to royals, I’m always mad.” Sword in hand, she pulled the reins and peeled back.
The clamor of horses colliding erupted behind Billip. With a quick twist of his neck, he saw Jarla swinging her steel into the stock of well-armed men. “She’s mad.”
“She’s Jarla,” Nikkel muttered.
No one else pursued Billip. He rode on for the black rock that seemed to yearn for the sky. A knot of dwarven soldiers greeted him just inside of a mile of the first rim of slate ledges. “Help my friend,” he shouted. “Jarla! She’s back there!” Knowing him, they waved him into the camp. By the time he stopped inside the rocks, Nikkel’s eyes had rolled up in his head. His hands were locked fast. “Help him! Help him!”
Dwarves lowered Nikkel out of the saddle and hustled him off. Billip dismounted just as Kam rushed over to him. She wasn’t alone. Fogle, Brak, and Jubilee were there along with Mood. “Greetings,” he said, wincing. “Listen to me. Jarla is back there. We need to go after her.”
Mood marched over to Billip. “No one is going anywhere. The dwarves will handle it.”
“I don’t see anyone moving,” Billip argued. He tried climbing back in the saddle. Mood tugged him back. “Don’t you—”
Mood squeezed Billip’s wrist with the power of a vise. “I said, the dwarves will handle it.”
Billip jerked his arm. It sent more pain shooting through his wounded shoulder. Mood’s fingers were still fastened to his wrist. “Fine, handle it then, Mood, but you can’t expect me to stand here when my blood is up.”
Mood released him. “I’ll call for you when I’m ready. Get stitched up first.” He turned his back and left with a group of blood rangers walking step for step behind him.
“That seemed strange, even for him.” Billip rubbed his wrist as he searched the faces in the crowd. “I see Bish hasn’t managed to devour us all yet. Brak, Jubilee, good to see you. We’ll survive another day yet.”
They all exchanged greetings. He caught a glimpse of Slim jogging in the direction that Nikkel had been taken. Gathering around a small campfire, he answered many questions. Kam did most of the talking. Billip told them about Venir’s plan and the awful conditions in Bone. “Sonuvabish!” he said.
“What?” Kam asked.
“The House of Kord, my pursuers. Our alleged ally, Altan Rey, claims to be from that very house. They serve the underlings. We need to warn Venir. Fetch me my horse. I can ride back.”
“Look!” Jubilee pointed to a group of dwarves. They led the great mare, Nightmare, into the camp, her flanks covered in blood. The beast’s head was down, and she snorted.
A black-bearded dwarf led the horse over to them, and Brak took the reins. In a gruff voice, the dwarf said, “We searched but didn’t find her.”
“How far did you go?”
“As far as King Mood would allow. We had to come back or be cut off. The Black Ring has arrived.” The black beard gave a short nod and left.
“What’s the Black Ring?”
Kam made a large circle with her good hand and index finger up. “It’s our worst fears come to life. The underling army has encircled the Black Columns. You made it just in time, Billip. The battle begins tonight.”
CHAPTER 12
Elizabeth fanned her nose. “More room, but more stink. Well done, sister. Is there anything you do that is not completely stupid?”
Rayal sat on a bench behind a farm table in a small dining hall outside of the kitchen of Castle Bloodhound. The air was rife with the smell of dogs. The dogs were big and vicious looking in some cases. Some of their backs were as high as Rayal’s trim waist. Not a single one snarled at them. She fished her spoon from a bowl of stew.
Jubilee watched a short-haired black dog lumber by. “You have to admit, this place is a kennel.” She slid her eye toward Elizabeth and back to Rayal. “There is worse company to keep though.”
Rayal laughed. “True enough.” She pushed the bowl away. “Regardless, there are few protectors more loyal than dogs.”
“Yes, you should see Chongo. A huge dog, so big that you can ride him. He has two heads.”
Elizabeth jumped up. “That’s my dog!” Her eyes narrowed on Rayal. “She gave him away to a little vagrant!”
“It was a small dog, and it wasn’t your dog, either. You think everything is yours,” Rayal said.
“Everything I want is mine.” Elizabeth sat down hard. “Everything.”
“I’d hate to be the poor bastard that she ends up taking a shine too,” Rayal said.
“Did someone call my name?” Corrin slid into the room. His shirt was rolled up over his wiry forearms. His dark hair hung in his eyes a little. He had a dog with him that glared at Elizabeth with drool dripping from its mouth. She crouched beside Rayal. “This is Burk. He hates little girls. So, are your new quarters commendable?”
“We are grateful,” Rayal said.
“There’s not a safer spot in Bone if I had to say. Anyway, Burk will give his life for you. All of the hounds will.” Corrin snagged a hard roll from the table and fed it to Burk. “I’m not a bloodhound, but they took me in. A strange turn of events, as I was never one to be attached to anyone or anything.”
“You men need to get out of those pits in one piece.” Rayal squeezed his hand. “I demand it.”
“The only thing that matters is that our enemies wind up in as many pieces as we are by the time it’s over.” He laid his hand on his dagger’s pommel. The weapon’s blade blinked in and out in a flash. He stuffed it inside its scabbard in an instant. “This is an assassination. It was my trade before all of this happened.”
Elizabeth perked up. “You were paid to kill people?”
“Handsome fees.”
“If I were to ever work, I’d want that job. That’s a good one,” Elizabeth said.
Creed swung into the room with a stunning black-haired woman locked on his arm.
Rayal stood up so fast she banged her knee on the table. “Lorda Almen!”
The two women embraced. Lorda’s alluring beauty radiated in the room. She was dressed in leather and a cotton tunic that was heavily stitched in the hems. Her legs showed below the knees. It was a big transition from the silky linens she typically wore, but she looked excellent.
“Rayal, I am so delighted to be your host. It’s been too long, and frankly, I could really use some female company,” Lorda said. “There’s nothing but hounds and dogs in this place.”
Brimming, Rayal said, “The pleasure is mine. You remember Elizabeth.�
�� Lorda nodded. “And this is Jasper, from the City of Three.”
Lorda extended her hand. “Welcome to Castle Bloodhound, Jasper. If there is anything you require, just speak of it.”
“Cat,” Creed said to Lorda. It drew Rayal’s eyes to him. “As much as I hate to depart your wonderful company, it is time to go.”
Lorda wrapped her arms around his waist and looked into his eyes. “I’ll only let you leave because I know that you’ll come back.” She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him with soft, full lips. Breaking the embrace, she said, “Corrin, take care of him.”
“Yes, Lorda.”
Creed flashed them all a smile, bowed, and left. Corrin did the same without the smile.
“It’s quite a change of events,” Rayal said to Lorda. “You are Lorda of the Bloodhounds now?”
Lorda sat down on the bench with her back to the table. She patted the seat beside her. “I no longer have a house. My entire family has been slaughtered.”
“But you are of royal blood. I never thought that you would ever consort with a commoner.”
“Are you judging me?” Lorda said.
“I don’t mean any disrespect, but I’m surprised. You are the standard of standards. Creed appears to be a fine man, but he’s not royal.”
“No, but he’s a man. All man. The blood might not be royal in his veins, but it runs hot.” She made a playful smile. “Besides, it’s not as if we have been wed. I’m just doing what I have to do to be of service. I might as well enjoy myself while I’m doing it.”
“I see,” Rayal said with her jaw hanging a little. Royals were notorious for keeping the circles of their bloodline closed. Having a child out of the bloodline could be fatal for the mother and the child. “I’m sorry, Lorda. I’m confident you know what is best for yourself.”
Lorda said in an icy tone, “Rayal, sometimes you have to be able to do whatever it takes to survive.”
CHAPTER 13
The Darkslayer: Series 2 Special Edition (Bish and Bone Bundle Books 6-10): Sword and Sorcery Adventures Page 30