Lefty crept out of the hole. He got big eyed when he saw Georgio. “You look like you should be dead.”
Slurring, Georgio said, “I feel like I should be dead.” He swayed. He puked.
Barton’s fingers loosened from his bleeding ankle. From his seat, he inched toward Georgio.
Georgio drew the sword back. “Get back, giant. I’ll cut your toe off and more of the rest of you. This sword can cut through anything, as you can see.”
Barton sank back. “No, no hurt Barton with that sharp toy.”
Lefty hopped over to Georgio. “I’m glad you aren’t dead. It looked like you were finished. I hope your face straightens up. Before was bad enough, but this time it’s hideous.”
“You make is sound like my gray matter is spilling out.”
“It looks like some of it is. Maybe you should sit down.”
“Take this.” Georgio handed Lefty the sword and sat down where he stood in the bed of flowers.
Lefty, holding the sword two-handed, faced the giant. “Barton, we’ve bested you twice, and now you need to honor your word, or we’ll cut you to pieces. You’ve underestimated us. We aren’t little scraps to feed you. We are formidable.”
Fixing his heavy gaze on Lefty, Barton said, “You don’t sound formidable.”
Lefty stuck the sword in the ground and drew his dagger. The blue blade shone brightly. “See this, Barton? One poke and your skin shall shrivel from your sinew!”
Barton cringed. “No poke! No poke!”
“You will honor your word and take us back to Bish, then, right?”
Barton stuck his bottom lip out and turned his head.
“Barton?”
“Barton can’t walk.”
“You can walk. You’ll just walk with a limp.” Lefty got closer. “What’s it going to be, Barton?”
“I take you out. I was just playing with little people. Just jesting. Barton was going to take you out all the time. I didn’t hurt anybody.”
“You tried to kill both of us.”
“Barton gets excited and carried away. It happens.”
Holding his face, Georgio said, “I bet he’s killed plenty of his toys.”
“Are you ready to journey?” Lefty said to Georgio.
“I suppose.”
Lefty climbed up Barton’s chest and sat on the giant’s shoulder. He held the dagger in Barton’s eye. “Don’t try to trick us, Barton. Got it?”
Barton nodded. Grumbling, he stood up. “You are mean little people.”
CHAPTER 24
Brak’s fingers snaked around the rope corded about his neck. He yanked it out of the underling’s hands. He hooked his finger between his neck and the rope and yanked it off. With underlings latched onto his great limbs, he sucked in a mouthful of air and let out a roar. “Get your arses off me!”
An underling stabbed him in the back of the thigh.
Spine Breaker came down on the fiend’s skull. Crack! The underling’s neck sank into its shoulder. Its red eyes and tongue hung out as it rolled off the ledge.
Brak sank his fingers into an underling’s neck that was pinned to his leg and slung the fiend over the ledge. Its body dashed against the rocks. Bleeding all over, Brak beat the underlings down with his cudgel one by one. Spines snapped. Jaws crushed. He hoisted an underling high over his towering frame and flung it headlong into a spider climbing the rocks.
The underlings surged up the jagged landscape. Spiders raced along with them. Chongo attacked every fiend that crested the rim. His massive, blood-soaked jaws clamped down on two underlings’ heads. He bit them off and swallowed them down.
“Feast, Chongo! Feast!” Brak stepped on an underling’s hand that was trying to swing up over the ledge. The fiend chittered at him. “Smile!” Brak busted the underling square in the face. The underling slid down the rocky slope. Brak beat the underlings down as fast as they could come. The cudgel’s heft became weighty, his swings a little slower than the last as the battle on the ledge raged on.
Fifty feet below, the dwarves fought with uncompromising durability. They’d walled off the channel, and their vigor battled the underlings back. The black bodies piled up at their feet. The dwarves stomped the fiends. The underlings climbed over their dead, fighting the skill, gnashing teeth, and fury.
A squad of dwarves armed with crossbows joined Brak and Chongo on the ledge. Their deadly volley sent underlings and spiders to the grave. The underlings advancing up the rocks broke away. Spiders and all, they scurried toward the next pinnacle and vanished in the ledges.
Brak mopped the bloody sweat from his brow. It hurt to breathe. Parts of his piecemeal armor hung from their leather straps. “That was nasty.” A stiff breeze whistled through the rocks, making a low, shrill howl. Loud clamors and curses joined in the spooky harmony. He slung the gore from the cudgel and climbed back onto Chongo. He wrapped his wrist up in the reins. “Hunt, Chongo, hunt.”
***
Cass sat on her knees alongside the cot where Nikkel lay still as she massaged his arm. The whites of his eyes were showing. His eyelashes fluttered. She said to Kam, the only other person in the room, “He’s a strong young man. Bish should be kissing him, but he lives. You have very headstrong friends, Kam. They don’t die when they are supposed to.”
Kam placed a wet towel on Nikkel’s forehead. “I like them stubborn, I guess.”
“These men are bullheaded. All they do is fight. The world would be better off without them.”
“You seem as fond of them as any. I think you would be at a loss if they were gone.”
“I don’t need anyone, just my forests and streams. The animals keep me company. And they don’t betray me either.”
“Yet here you are, caring for this man,” Kam said.
“This one hasn’t betrayed me, yet.”
“Who do you think betrayed you? Fogle?”
Cass’s alluring features darkened. “I see how moon-eyed he becomes over you. He slavers like a hound in heat.” Her eyes grazed over Kam’s chest. “He would die for your nectar.”
Blushing, Kam pinched the collar of her robe. “Easy, Cass. I’m spoken for. And I don’t have any intentions with Fogle. He’s my friend. We’ve been through a lot together. I suppose that makes us close. He’s more of a brother than anything else.”
“You would not have him then?”
“No.”
“What if that blossom of brawn dies? Who will you copulate with then?”
“I… I don’t think about that. Especially now when we are surrounded by underlings.” Kam stroked Nikkel’s cheek. “He is a sweet one.”
“If he lives, he’ll break a hundred hearts, like the others,” Cass said. She checked Nikkel’s bandages. Fresh blood had seeped through the cloth bandages. Nikkel coughed. Bloody spittle and saliva dripped down his chin. She gently placed her hands on his chest. Eyeing Kam, she said, “Hold down his shoulders.”
Kam complied.
A warm glow radiated from Cass’s hands. Her eyes became soft fires. She spoke in a gentle voice with quick words. The sound of flesh, cartilage, and bone mending came from Nikkel’s body. He lurched. His back arched.
Kam shoved him down. Nikkel spasmed, gasped, and sighed. He lay like the dead in the cot, but his body was warm. His ashen complexion slowly turned back to sun brown, and his labored breathing eased. “You healed him, Cass. Well done.”
Cass’s fingers dusted over Kam’s arm. Kam tensed. Her body shivered, and she panted. The druid’s touch was vibrant, alive and intoxicating. “That felt good.”
“I know it did.”
Billip entered through the tent flap with his arm in a sling. Fogle was with him. “How’s he doing?”
“Shouldn’t the two of you be fighting for our safety?” Cass said.
“This isn’t a social visit. Mood wants us to evacuate, assuming we have the ability to do so,” Billip said.
Kam rose. “The Columns are lost? So soon?”
“The battle will be long an
d fierce, he says,” Billip shrugged. “But the conclusion seems inevitable. He wants us to go after Venir. Help me.”
“Are you fine with that?” Kam said. “You’ll run.”
“You, Erin, Cass, and Jubilee are the main concern. He wants you safe.”
“There is nowhere else to go. We will stay.”
With his spellbook cradled in his arms and the metallic-looking ebony hawk on his shoulder, Fogle said, “I can get us into Bone.”
“We have no allies in Bone. I’ll stay with the dwarves,” Kam said.
“We’ll find our allies. I have my ebony hawk, Inky. He shall lead us to them,” Fogle said. “This is Mood’s wish, not ours. I’m not going to dispute his reasons. We don’t have to go into the city, for certain, but he wants us to take rations and get out of the Black Columns.”
Kam moved to the other side of the tent and picked up Erin, who was nestled in the blanks. The toddler cooed.
Cass absentmindedly twirled her hair. “I’m not going anywhere with you, Fogle, and I’m certainly not going in that wretched city.”
“I can’t shower you with affection if you don’t come,” Fogle said.
Cass blanched and gave him a look. “Now I’m curious. I’ll go then. But not for you, for them. I like them.”
“We aren’t going anywhere without Brak and Jubilee,” Kam said.
Billip started out of the tent. “I’ll fetch them.”
CHAPTER 25
The underling solider snugged up the noose around Melegal’s neck. He gagged. The coarse fibers in the rope bit into his skin. There were three prisoners to his left and three to the right. On the end to the left of him stood the underling executioner, staring at the group with ruby-red eyes. He wore a black vest of chain mail, revealing bare arms that bulged more than a typical underling’s.
I suppose underlings have their louts too.
Hundreds of underlings gathered on the Royal Roadway. They drank, caroused, and sniggered. Even though the fiends didn’t crack a smile, it was clear they were in a festive mood. Wooden tankards and clay goblets filled to the rim with booze clanked together.
Not even one last drink before I die. Pity me.
Melegal’s nimble fingers worked through the bonds that tied his hands behind his back. He had enough slack to jerk them free. That was the first step. But he was still outnumbered one hundred to one. He could try to free himself from the noose, but the underlings who captured him before had crossbows trained on him. They’d fill him with enough wooden shafts to start a bonfire.
If I had a chance to do things differently, what would I change?
He wasn’t going to die blaming Venir. He’d had a chance to back out. Bish didn’t give any man that many choices either. It was fight or die. Now, it appeared, Bish had finally brought him to the end of his rope.
I suppose it’s fitting to go down like this.
The underling executioner pumped his arms, beat his chest, and grabbed the lever.
The flock of evil cackled with glee.
“I will miss you, Gruesome,” Sanny managed to choke out. “I hope we are buried together. I’ll keep you warm forever.”
“I suppose that’s better than the flies,” he mused. All of the treacherous adventures of his past washed through him. He started laughing. “Heh-heh. Fine, have at me, underlings,” he managed to yell. He caught their attention, including the executioner. He laughed harder. “You might kill me, but I promise you this, the Darkslayer is going to kill all of you! So eat slat, you two-legged arseholes!”
The executioner ripped back the gallows lever. The floor dropped from underneath all of their feet. The noose tightened on Melegal’s neck for a split second. He jerked for a moment, wrenching his neck. There was a snap. His feet hit the ground hard. He rolled onto his backside. The hanging rope lay on the ground with a neat cut through it.
Bish me!
“Stop gawking and get your arse down here!” a voice shouted out from the open face of a storm grate.
Melegal dove for the opening. Underling crossbows rocked to life. Bolts zinged over his shoulders. He squeezed into the narrow opening and pushed through into the pitch-black sewer tunnel. A howl of rage rose up from the underlings.
A husky voice echoed down the dark pipe. “This way, fool!”
Melegal crawled through the pipe like a fleeing rat. Behind him, underlings screeched. They slid through the grate into the sewer and chased him.
“Hurry up, you skinny idiot!”
Melegal took after the voice. The sewer pipe bent, dropped downward and into a larger pipe. He passed from pipe to pipe. Strong hands hurried him through. “Faster, moron. Do you want them to catch you?” A metal grate smashed shut.
The person talking to Melegal locked the grate with something. Underlings slammed into the closed grate.
Melegal was shoved in the back.
“Go, fool! Go!” the voice said. “They’ll find a way through that soon enough.”
Melegal hustled along. His eyes started to adjust. The daylight crept through the storm grates in the alleys above.
“Go left.”
He went left at the next turn in the pipe.
“Go right, then left.”
He followed the directions for several minutes, not slowing a step. The sound of pursuing underlings was long gone. The person helping him panted.
“You can slow up. The next bend and we’ll be safe. See the light?”
“Aye.” He entered a cove. The smell of fresh water hit his nostrils. The guts of cave fireflies were smeared on the walls, giving the alcove a green glow.
His helper closed a door behind them, locking them inside with a full steel door. A spring of water burbled in the middle. Another person stirred in the room, half hidden in the shadows of this long-forgotten underground sanctuary. His liberator ambled over to the spring of water and sucked it up. Finally, in a husky voice that was no longer dry, the woman said, “Where’s Haze?”
CHAPTER 26
Venir and Creed were shackled from their necks to their ankles. A troupe of underlings, including the jailer, led them to an underground concourse that ran from one castle to another. Venir had some familiarity with the old tunnel network from when he was a boy. Royals had kept the networks up in case the citizens rose up, but that hadn’t happened in centuries. As he understood it, not all of the castles used them, but some did from alliances long ago. Many were used for escape, others for trading and hiding.
Now the underlings made use of the ancient tunnels. They were nothing more than straightaways, marred with cobwebs, scurrying rodents, and falling debris from the rafters that held the ceiling.
Shoulder to shoulder, Venir and Creed moved. If Venir had to guess, he’d assume they’d crossed the length of three castles judging by the intersections. Finally, they made their way up to the ground level of a castle. They crossed a long courtyard. Royal soldiers hung from nooses among the long-dead flowers. The banner of the Kling household lay on the ground. The wind picked up the bloody banner and carried it away.
A hundred underlings guarded the outer ramparts and inner archway. They spit on Venir and Creed when they passed underneath them. The jailer met up with Kazzar in a common area, where guests waited before they entered the castle.
Kazzar spoke to the jailer in Underling. There was an exchange of hands, and coins vanished into fingers. The jailer and his troupe of underlings departed. That left Venir and Creed standing alone with Kazzar. “Don’t say anything, either of you. Be silent.”
Venir didn’t speak, nor did Creed.
Underlings in full suits of chain-mail armor from the neck collar down over their thighs accompanied Kazzar and the prisoner through the castle’s inner roadway toward the back end that faced the castle’s outer wall. Venir had an inward smile. Castle Kling was on the west gate side of the city.
There was a stone-and-mortar building nestled against the perimeter wall away from the castle. Gray-white paint peeled from the walls. Many of the
red clay shingles were busted and cracked. Several soldiers, men, were stationed outside. Their faces were sunken and their chins cast down.
Venir and Creed were taken inside the building. Large cages filled with hard-eyed men, soldiers, fighters, possibly royals covered the walls. They all crouched or sat in cages made for dogs, not men. In some cases there were two or three men crammed inside one. The men’s faces were oily, sweating, and greasy. Their eyes latched onto Venir and Creed.
“Welcome to the Huddle,” a man said. He had a gravelly voice and a bad eye. “You have to bark for them to feed you.” He bayed like a wolf.
An underling soldier poked the butt of its spear into the man’s choke, cutting off the howl. The man groaned as he clutched his belly and crawled against the back end of the cage.
A cage was opened up. “Get inside, both of you,” Kazzar said. Venir glared at the man transformed into an underling. “Don’t make a show if it,” he continued. “They’ll gore you.”
Venir ducked into the cage. Creed followed him, and the door closed behind them. Sitting, both of the men’s heads almost touched the top bars of the cage, and they couldn’t stretch their legs out. Kazzar and the underlings left.
“My dogs have bigger cages than this.” Creed eyed a man in the cage across from him. The hairy fella was gnawing on a dead rat. “Better food as well.”
***
Ebenezer Kling skulked in one of the abandoned guard towers as the prisoners were led into the courtyard. “Lords of the Lands,” he muttered. He leaned farther out of the window. The red-headed warrior, Creed, was unmistakable. His athletic frame rippled with well-defined muscle. He moved with a true swordsman’s ease. As imposing as Creed was, he was practically insignificant to the man that towered at his side. Ebenezer had never seen such brawn on a man who moved like a jungle cat. Scarred muscles twitched underneath his sun-bronzed skin with the slightest movement. The man’s blue eyes burned with volcanic fire. His hard stare could crack stone. Who in Bish is that monster?
The Darkslayer: Series 2 Special Edition (Bish and Bone Bundle Books 6-10): Sword and Sorcery Adventures Page 34