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The Darkslayer: Series 2 Special Edition (Bish and Bone Bundle Books 6-10): Sword and Sorcery Adventures

Page 39

by Craig Halloran


  Good for that.

  If there was one thing he was very uncomfortable with, it was the spiders that patrolled the walls like weird guard dogs. He didn’t know how to account for that. He moved over to a trough of water, rolled up his sleeve, and inspected his wound. The gash oozed. He rinsed it off. Eh, that will have to do.

  In all of his years, Melegal had spent plenty of time in the castles. Most of his time was when he was a boy. The other time was when he replaced McKnight as the detective for Lord Almen. Castle layouts were much the same. They were big, and eyes couldn’t be everywhere at once. They had secret passages too, most of which were designed for the servants to come and go through without disturbing the royals. The odd thing was, after so many generations passed, it seemed that the royals weren’t aware of these passages. The servants did what the servants did.

  With his back hugging the walls, Melegal crept out of the barn, using the daytime shadows between the buildings for cover. He kept his eyes upward most of the time. The towers and spires had many windows. Some were rooms and others were guard posts. A sand spider crawled up one of the towers, startling a human guard, before vanishing on the roof of the tower. It sent a chill through Melegal. It gave him an idea too.

  If he were caught, Melegal would have a hard time talking himself out of a dire situation. He had two options. Dress as a soldier, which would nullify his ability to move about with quiet indiscretion, or take on the garb of a servant. He opted for the latter. Pressing against the wall, he watched three underlings cross in front of him and move on. He followed after them into the castle and split off into an abandoned living room with fresh blood stains on the carpet. On a hunch he searched the bookcases. He discovered a false panel. A doorway was concealed behind the bookcase. He entered and closed the door behind him. On cat’s feet, he navigated the narrow tunnels to the servants’ quarters behind the kitchen and peeked inside.

  Looks like a window has opened.

  The servants’ quarters were nothing but small cots lined up along the floor. There were chests at the foot of the cots to store clothing. Melegal could hear the rustling of china and ironware coming from the kitchen. He slipped into the quarters. Rummaging through one chest after the other, he found a brown servant’s smock with a beige collar. He slipped it on over his narrow shoulders. It covered him down to his knees. He grabbed a servant’s cap off a peg. Placing it on his head, he moved on through the kitchen. Two men stirred huge pots of something that smelled awful. They didn’t glance his way.

  Heh-heh.

  Melegal found a wicker broom and dustpan in a storage closet. Head down, he carried it through the halls. Every time he heard voices echoing his direction, he took a knee and began to sweep.

  Underlings escorted a tall warrior dressed in the formal apparel of a high-ranking royal down the hall. The man carried the same commanding presence as Lord Almen. He slowed as they passed Melegal.

  Melegal’s shoulders tightened. He felt eyes on his back.

  “Servant,” the man said.

  Melegal stopped sweeping. Head down, he stood and turned to face the royal. “Yes, lord.” The man gave him a thorough once-over. His eyes searched his face. Servants never looked the royals in the eyes and rarely talked to them unless directly addressed.

  “My mother needs fresh water, right away,” the royal said. “Take it directly to her quarters.”

  He nodded.

  “Look at me, servant.”

  Melegal looked the man in the eye. He knew the name Manamus, and immediately he put together that this was Rayal’s father, Ebenezer. There was a strong resemblance between father and daughter. Ebenezer had the same probing eyes Rayal did. If the Lord of the Klings saw right through him, he didn’t show it. Suddenly, the underlings crowded him. An odd silence fell over the hallway. I’m doomed.

  CHAPTER 39

  Billip, Kam, and Fogle skulked over their table. Kam’s heart was shooting up her throat. It seemed everywhere she turned the walls were closing in. Now, they hadn’t sat down more than a handful of minutes when the corrupt city watch accompanied by an underling filtered into the rank-smelling tavern.

  “Just act like you belong here,” Billip said under his breath.

  Kam draped her leg over Fogle’s thigh. She looked into his eyes and played with his hair. “I bet your druid princess would be really upset if she saw this.”

  “Her? Bone, I’m jealous,” Billip said.

  The city watch sallied up to the bar and ordered some drinks. The underling cruised in and out of the tables. It pulled one man’s head back by the hair. Chittering, it shoved the man’s face back down. The bartender set two full tankards of ale before the city watchmen. He poured a separate goblet of port.

  The underling paid the barkeep no mind. It fastened its eyes on Kam’s table.

  With his mouth inside his goblet, Billip said in a sharp tone to Kam, “Kiss him!”

  “What?”

  “Underlings can’t stand the sight of affection. Hurry.”

  Kam planted a slutty kiss full on Fogle’s lips. He reeled her into him with surprisingly strong hands. The kiss switched over from a playful act to something deeper. Her fingers tangled up in his thick brown hair. Their hungry mouths locked together. She lost herself in his lips and was oblivious to her surroundings. A firm hand cupped her breast and squeezed. She moaned.

  “He turned away,” Billip said. Kam and Fogle kept it up. He kicked the leg of her chair. Their lips broke apart. “I said, they went.”

  Panting, Kam saw the watchmen and the underling leave. Fogle removed his hand from her breast. “Sorry. I became carried away.” His cheeks reddened. “I suppose.”

  “You sure sold them,” Billip said. “The look on that underling’s face was sheer disgust.” He cracked is knuckles. “Perhaps horror.”

  Kam’s fingers slid out of Fogle’s hair. She took a breath and a long drink. She’d gotten caught up in the moment more than she could have imagined. She had feelings for Fogle but never imagined it was anything so strong. In that moment, she’d lost control of her body. She knew it. Fogle knew it. It’s just the pressure, Kam. That’s all. The pressure.

  As the underling and the city watch departed, another man in a full beard bustled through the doors. He drew a scowl from the underling. Billip elbowed Fogle. “That’s Hoff.” He tipped his chin at the man.

  Hoff crossed the room. His beard hung halfway down his breastplate. The chair creaked when he sat. “You live. Good.” He gave Kam a nod. “I see you brought some help. We’ll take all we can get.”

  “This is Fogle,” Billip said. “Glad you found us so soon.”

  “Well, it’s good fortune. There was a stir in the streets, and I got the feeling I better stake out some of our hives. I checked one more before this one. It was on the journey.” He helped himself to Fogle’s ale. “Apologies, but I’m very thirsty. Barkeep. Another!”

  “Any word from Venir?” Billip asked.

  Kam stiffened.

  “Nay. The black hearts have him. I’ve managed to round up a couple hundred willing horsemen when the time comes. Castle Kord offered many.”

  “Slat!” Billip said.

  Hoff leaned back. “What’s the problem? Horsemen are a good thing.”

  “Yes, but only if they are on our side. Word has it that Castle Kord’s alignment lies with the underlings and not their own.”

  “Are you certain about this? Altan Rey gave his word. I’ve dealt with them before. They’ve always been honest fellows.” He sighed. “I’m not certain what to believe. Shall I make other arrangements?”

  “I’d find as many other riders as you can. Be wary.” Billip showed him the dwarven horn. “I’ll watch for the flags and Venir. When you hear this, it’s time to ride down those gates one way or another.”

  “And if they don’t come down?”

  “The dwarves, and most likely us, will be slaughtered.”

  Hoff drank from the pitcher the barkeep handed him. “Bishspeed t
hen.”

  “Aye,” Billip replied.

  Kam barely heard a word any of them said. Her thoughts were on Fogle. Her lips still tingled. How fickle am I? Does my heart betray me? I’m not worthy of Venir.

  CHAPTER 40

  Ebenezer’s brows knitted together. He leaned down and spoke harsh words in Melegal’s ear. “Be quick about it, servant. The longer you delay the angrier she will get, as well as I. Tell her I’m off to the arena.”

  Melegal nodded. He hurried back to the kitchen and fetched a pitcher of water from the cistern then made his way back to the spot where he’d crossed Ebenezer. He could have had me killed but didn’t. Clearly he knew I was not one of his. Perhaps Rayal has gotten word to him. He moved toward the staircase that led up into the castle. He had no idea where Manamus was. There were dozens of rooms to choose from. The vulpine man made it to the second level before a servant woman came his way.

  “This needs to go to Manamus, immediately, per Ebenezer,” Melegal said. He startled the woman. “Her quadrant is not mine, and I don’t want to upset the head usher. I’m come on service from Castle Kord.”

  “I’ve not heard of this,” the woman said as she gathered herself. “It’s not customary—”

  “Having my family gutted in front of my eyes by underlings isn’t customary either. This is not about customs; it’s about survival, so if you don’t want to draw further attention to you or me, I suggest you help out.”

  “I…” She swallowed. “It’s just that many fear Manamus more than the underlings. I don’t want to cross her again.” She brushed her hair back over her ear. The skin was charred black. “She did this when I accidentally stuck her with a pin when adjusting her formal gown.”

  “I see. How many rooms does she occupy?”

  “Just the one in the westward tower. She’s the only one up there.” She cast her eyes down the hall. “Beware.”

  “Not a word of this then,” Melegal said to the woman. “I’m new, and I’d rather not bring you any more troubles. Sorry for your incident. Your warning is heeded.” Melegal hustled away. When he glanced back, the woman had vanished over the staircase. The fear in her eyes didn’t unsettle him. He was used to the royals and their nasty games. One thing was for sure, it didn’t appear that Rayal’s charm came from her grandmother.

  He took the next flight of steps up. The fanciful marble floors turned to cruder cut stone. There were several doors at the top, made from aged hard wood polished and waxed to a shine. The door at the end was black as tar, the brass hinges corroded. The door swung inward with the slightest groan.

  The witch knows I am here. Let’s see what this witch is all about.

  Melegal poked his head in the door. “Pardon, Lorda Manamus, but I’ve been instructed to bring you water by Lord Kling.”

  “Enter, vulpine rogue.” She spoke in the strong voice of an older woman.

  Melegal entered. The door closed behind him.

  “Where do you come from, sneakster?” Manamus sat in her rocker, knitting. Her eyes were on her work. Deep wrinkles creased her face well beyond her years. She was a woman that had given much effort for power. He’d seen it before, a hundred times. “Rayal sent me, so to speak.”

  She stopped rocking and set her knitting needles on her lap. “I see. I’ve spoken to Rayal, recently. I don’t recall her mentioning one as raw-boned as you. The men she mentioned had substantially more meat on them.”

  “I try not to be noticed.”

  Her tightly knit brows lifted. “Vulpine indeed. How did you manage to get inside these walls?”

  “I came inside the belly of a manure cart.”

  “That explains the unsettling aroma. So, you are here to take out the underlings. This plan, as I understand it, is very farfetched, but I sense there is more at stake for you than this.”

  “The underling that calls himself Kazzar robbed me of some special goods that I am very attached to. I don’t take kindly to being robbed.”

  “So, this is personal?”

  “The underlings will kill us all eventually, but I will have what I have before I die.” Cupping the pitcher in both hands, he said, “Do you wish to drink?”

  “Your knowledge quenches my thirst. Tell me, what was it that the servant woman said about me when you encountered her below my stairs?”

  The hairs on Melegal’s arms rose. How did she know?

  “That you are a marvelous master,” he said with a razor-thin smile.

  “And you are a convincing liar,” she replied. “What do you call yourself?”

  “Melegal.”

  Her eyes widened the slightest bit. “That’s a very unique name for an urchin. Where did you get it?”

  “It was the one that I was given.”

  “I see.” She rose out of her rocker and waved her hand. The pitcher of water vanished from Melegal’s hands. She hooked her arms around his. “Tell me about these items that are so precious to you. And tell me about your brutish friend’s armament too. I’m very curious.”

  Very power hungry is more like it.

  Melegal walked along with her as she led him deeper into the room. Her icy cold fingers chilled him to the bone. He decided to be candid with her. “There is a pair of dart launchers I acquired from an assassin. A ring taken from the Royal Almen’s house cleric, Sefron.”

  “Sefron?” She stuck her tongue out. “That flabby toad is dead, I presume.”

  “Very much so. The ring shocks the slat out of people.”

  “Ah, I enjoy trinkets such as that. Anything else?”

  “A personal effect. A cap from my childhood. It’s very striking on my head.”

  “And Altan Rey had these items?”

  “I’m not certain. They might have been taken by one of the guards. But he’ll know.” They stopped and looked outside one of the windows that overlooked the city. “Nice view.”

  “Yes, it’s very nice this time of day, isn’t it?”

  He nodded.

  “I like your company, Melegal. You have an edge about you. I’m not fond of the compassionate, like Rayal. She’s soft as a butterfly’s wings. Elizabeth, however, now she has the true fire of a ruler.” She waved her hand in front of the tombstone-shaped window and uttered smooth, flowing words.

  Melegal tingled from head to toe. Her magic raced through him.

  “Watch and see what Manamus Kling sees.”

  A clear image appeared in the window. It was a picture of the castle courtyard. The servants were working the deteriorating gardens. She passed her hand in front of the window as if she was shoving a sliding closet door aside. A new image appeared. It was of the kitchen. With the flip of her hand, the image changed from room to room.

  “Now you see what I see. I am the master behind these walls. It’s my castle. Are you impressed?”

  “Delighted. Can you find Altan Rey?”

  “Of course. He’s in the arena.” She flipped to another image. It was an aerial view above the arena. The seats were filled with underlings. Painted men battled bloodthirsty underlings to the death. A man fell to his knees with a spear through him. An underling chopped off his head. “Was that your friend?”

  “No, I don’t see him.” The image changed suddenly to a view of the hallway outside of Manamus’s door. A squad of underlings was coming. “What’s this all about?”

  Manamus cackled. “They aren’t looking for me. They’re looking for you.”

  A zap went through Melegal’s shoulders. The world turned dim. He sank to the floor, rigid as a board. Paralyzed.

  Evil witch.

  CHAPTER 41

  Venir and Creed were back inside the preparation room. There was water, trays of cooked meat, cheese, and bread. They ate while servant women dressed their wounds and applied new paint to their bodies. It had been hours since they had seen another prisoner. Ten underlings stood inside the room guarding them. Their gemstone eyes watched every move they made.

  “How’s the wound? Venir asked Creed.

&n
bsp; “My leg’s stiff as a board, but at least the meat is still intact. What do you think is happening out there?”

  “Those other prisoners, you saw them, I imagine they are being slaughtered.”

  “Better them than us.”

  “We’re going to get our turn again. Why else would they be decorating us?”

  “If the circumstances were any different, I think I could get used to this paint.” Creed ran his eyes up and down his sinewy arms. “There’s some flare to it. It gives me a new identity, like the armament did. Do you think it’s here?”

  “It’s where it wants to be, I suppose.” Venir coiled leather around his wrist, making for a crude bracer. “Maybe someone else is waving a big axe in the city, slaying the underlings.”

  “Do you feel foolish giving it up? Perhaps we could have found another way in.”

  Venir showed a gap between his fingers. “We’re this close, aren’t we?”

  Kazzar entered the room, moving fast.

  Creed replied to Venir, “I guess we are about to find out.”

  “It’s time.” Kazzar motioned at the underling soldiers. They surrounded Venir and Creed. The women servants departed. “Master Sinway now graces the arena.”

  Venir stood up and looked down. “What about my gear, Kazzar?”

  “Everything is in place. What happens will happen. It’s time for the contest to begin.” Kazzar led them out of the preparation room, down the tunnel, and back into the dugout. The underling soldiers followed him inside the arena. Kazzar closed the gate behind him, and the guards took their stations around the arena.

  Men were finishing mopping the blood stains off the floor. They picked up fingers, ears, and a foot and placed them in a bucket. The arena reeked of drying death. On Kazzar’s order, the men scurried down the other exit tunnel. The door closed behind them.

 

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