Fogle’s throat tightened. “Er… of course. Will you hold my spellbook?”
“Only if I must. Just take me.”
He picked her up in his arms and began walking up the arena stairs. “So, you aren’t mad at me?”
Running her fingers through his hair, she said with lovesick eyes, “Now why would I be mad at a man as handsome as you?”
“Well—”
She put her fingers to his lips. “Don’t ruin it. Unless, of course, you are too tired.”
“I might be tired, but I’m not that tired. Ever.” Something heavy landed just outside of the skylight. A clamor of dwarven voices rose and carried through the halls. “What in Bish was that?” Fogle looked up at the hole in the dome. Shards of glass busted off the skylight frame, falling into the arena. The ceiling trembled.
A very familiar black dragon poked his huge head inside the dome. His citrine eyes locked on Fogle. He huffed a breath of stuffy hot air that filled the room then made a loud snort.
Cass hopped out of Fogle’s arms. “Blackie! You’ve come back to me!”
CHAPTER 8
Ebenezer sat in the bleachers of his arena, gazing at the hulking black dragon. His jaw hung. Somehow, the creature had managed to squeeze through the dome-light portal, which seemed entirely too small. Portions of the portal ring were torn way. Cass sat on the dragon’s back, hugging its neck and smiling like a child. A man not known for repeating himself, Ebenezer said again, “I have a dragon in my castle.”
A big red-bearded dwarf like Mood, but with black skin, hit him in the arm. “You’re going to have to feed him, too.”
“What do you feed it?”
Walking away, the blood ranger, accompanied by a smaller set of dwarves, said, “Underlings.” The dwarves guffawed on their way out of the arena.
Billip and Nikkel were clustered nearby, either admiring the dragon or ogling Cass.
Venir stood with his sinewy arms crossed over his chest a few rows in front of Ebenezer. He looked back at the royal. “Dragons make excellent pets, so they say.”
“Please tell me that thing is not staying.”
“I don’t know what it is doing.” Venir called down to Fogle, “Where’s Boon? I thought Mood said he was with the dragon.”
The wizard stood in the front row of the arena, several paces away from the group. His smile was upside down. “Well, he’s not.”
Melegal entered the arena shortly thereafter. His eyes were as wide as Venir had ever seen them. Brak and Jubilee were with him. Like children, their eyes were filled with glee. They went straight down the steps, over the wall, and into the arena, where they started petting Blackie. Brak hollered at Fogle, “Where’s Boon?”
“I don’t know!” the mage replied. Tucking his spellbook under his arms, he stormed up the stairs. “I’m going after some fresh air. This place reeks of scales and death.”
“Not so fast, Fogle.” Melegal cut into the man’s path. “The time for peace and quiet is over. Since we are all gathered, I’ve news to report.”
“You have news?” Venir said with a smirk. “You have my attention. What is it?”
“I took it upon myself to do some scouting.”
“What?” Billip marched right up the bleachers with Nikkel on his heels. “This I have to hear.” Nikkel, standing behind the smaller man, nodded. “Melegal scouting. That’s a first. He probably led the underlings right to us.”
“I’m pretty sure they know we are here, idiot. As I was saying, I took it upon myself and made a run through the city. The north, east, and south gates are chock-full of underlings. But that isn’t all. The orcs and ogres are filing in with them too.”
“Slat. How many?” Venir asked.
“They appear to be a small faction of the underlings, but nevertheless, their forces are growing stronger while ours don’t seem to be getting any bigger.”
“We’ve added a dragon,” Fogle said with a clear note of sarcasm.
“The winged lizard will fight with us?” Ebenezer asked.
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Venir said. “Nikkel, will you take the news to Mood? He’ll want to know, assuming he doesn’t already.”
“Well, if he did, you’d think that he’d have mentioned it,” Melegal said.
“There are more blood rangers out there, doing what they do. I’m not so certain we’ll be privy to what they know unless they want us to know it.” Venir cracked his neck side to side and sat down. “Give Mood some time to dwell on it.”
“I suppose I can send Inky out to get a bird’s-eye view of things,” Fogle offered. “I’ll be needing some rest first. Yesterday drained me.”
“Hopefully we’ll see you before the dwarven horn sings,” Venir said.
Fogle started up the stairs and stopped. He said to Venir, “Would you be offended—”
“Go see her,” Venir said. “She’d appreciate you looking in on her.”
With a nod, Fogle headed up the stairs and out of the arena. All of the men watched him go. Cracking his knuckles, Billip said, “He’s very sweet on Kam.”
“True, but I never met a man that wasn’t in one way or the other. It’s not something I have time to worry about. Besides, Kam and I have our matters sorted out.”
“It sounds like she rebounded quickly,” Melegal said. “You have a smile hidden in your words. I can’t find the word for it.”
“Chipper,” Nikkel inserted. “My father used to say it from time to time. Chipper as a black beaver.”
“Chipper I am, then,” Venir said.
“What words did she speak to you, Venir? I’d be curious to know,” Melegal asked. “Was it words or something else?”
“She’s not that far along, I assure you. No, I think after all of this time, Kam and I have an understanding.”
“I see. She’s still delirious. I bet if you served her orc pudding right now, she’d delight in it,” Melegal added. The men, one and all, chuckled. “Tell me, was she drooling when she came to this understanding?”
Venir flexed his bicep. “Of course she was. They always do.”
Nikkel laughed out loud.
“Speaking of women, where are the likes of Jasper and Rayal?” Melegal asked.
“Creed went to fetch them,” Billip said. “I’d expect them back sometime soon. In the meantime, while we wait, perhaps we can play a game or two.”
Melegal wriggled his fingers. “Cards.” He patted the pommels of the blades tucked into his belt. “Or daggers?”
Billip held up a golden coin. “We’ll flip for it.”
CHAPTER 9
The setting suns of Bish glared into the faces of the travelers. Georgio and Lefty walked behind Boon with their heads down. Lefty licked his cracked lips, his tongue dry.
“This is a long walk. My feet are burning. Are you sure we are going in the right direction?” Georgio picked the last flecks of burnt skin, now fully regenerated, from his fingers. “I don’t recognize anything.”
“For the one-thousandth time, we are not lost.” Boon picked up the pace. “Just keep your eyes on the sky for Blackie. Bloody dragon should have come back by now.”
“What makes you think the dragon is coming back?” Lefty asked. His feet were burning. He was tired of walking. He should be running. It had been so long since he ran. He liked running. Keeping up with Georgio’s and Boon’s long strides wasn’t an issue. He was fast, and his abnormally large feet didn’t ache. He was a lightfoot, a halfling breed known for long walks and runs. But in this case, it was getting dreary. All he’d been doing was running since he took up with Venir. It felt like it started decades ago. He scanned the clouds. Turkey buzzards circled high above. “I don’t see any signs of a dragon. I don’t think he’s coming back.”
“Of course you don’t. Just be silent.” Boon trudged along over the dusty ground. “Try to be positive.”
“Positive?” Georgio said, scratching his head. “I don’t really take your meaning.”
“He means be happy
,” Lefty said.
“No, I don’t mean be happy, though, that would certainly be more welcoming than your dour moods.” Boon stepped over a clump of rocks. “Er… watch your step. There might be a rattler in there.”
Lefty changed direction, angling around the rocks on the ground. Georgio stopped to inspect them. “What are you doing?” Lefty asked.
“I wonder if poison can kill me,” Georgio said.
“Are you entertaining the thought of being snakebit? That’s a stupid thing to do.”
Georgio picked up some rocks and tossed them aside. “True, but I’m not known for doing smart things, now am I?”
Lefty shrugged. “Do what you will.” He hustled up to Boon. “You seem very disappointed that you lost the dragon. Is that going to be a problem? I mean, eventually, we will get where we are going, won’t we?”
“True, we will get there, but I’d rather have been there already.”
“’There’ being the City of Bone, right?”
“That’s what I’m aiming for. How good are your eyes, halfling?” Boon said, squinting.
“Are you so old that you have trouble seeing?”
“Perhaps. Do you see that cluster above the grasses, far, far away?”
“That’s interesting. It’s trees, I think. I’m not used to seeing trees in the Outland, not that I’m so well traveled. I’m more used to the southern climate. Is that where we are going?”
“Yes.”
Georgio caught up with them. “I hope there’s water there. Not only am I thirsty, but I’m starving. I never thought I would have missed that grove in the Mist. I’m not much for fruit, but it was tasty. I wonder why the rest of the world isn’t more like that?”
“An interesting question,” Boon said. There was a flicker in his eyes. “Not many would ponder such things. The lands beyond the Mist are very different. I’ve only seen part of them, myself.”
“You mean there is more to Bish than just Bish?” Georgio said.
“There’s the Under-Bish, where the giants come from. That’s one more place that I know of. Its lands flourish in more greenery.” Boon picked up the pace.
“So, how many giants are there?” Lefty asked.
“I don’t know. Not so many, but that’s more than enough. They are treacherous people. The land around them is ample and mysterious. I only saw a fragment of it, but people dwell there, that I could see, not so different than you and me.”
Georgio and Lefty looked at each other. Georgio said, “I think he’s making it up. What do you think?”
“I don’t think it matters either way. I just want to get something to eat.”
The second sun started to set over an hour later. They arrived in a grove of trees that stood about twenty feet tall. The tree branches were gathered at the top and full of leaves. Boon said to Lefty, “Shimmy up there and grab some of those leaves?”
Lefty looked up at him. “Why?”
“They are filled with nectar.”
“They don’t look like they’re filled with nectar, but I’ll do as you say.” Using his feet and hands, Lefty climbed straight up the tree trunk like a monkey. The branches at the top were big enough to nestle in. The leaves were deep green, bigger than his hands, thick, and puffy. They were covered in moisture.
“Eat it,” Boon said. “And toss some down, quickly. You two aren’t the only ones that thirst.”
Lefty plucked the leaves off one by one. “They are heavy. How to you drink from them?”
“You can fold it over and squeeze. The nectar will come out. Or you can bite into it.”
Lefty bit into it. His face lit up. “Mmmm… that’s good.” He tossed leaves to the ground. “Try it, Georgio.”
The three men ate until their bellies were full and both suns had set. The evening started to cool. Lefty and Georgio sat with their backs against one tree. Boon, standing, leaned against another. “Boon, are we going to sleep or walk?” Lefty asked, yawning. “Because I’m getting tired.”
“Rest. Tonight, we will wait.”
With heavy eyes, Lefty said, “Wait for what? Blackie? I don’t think he’s coming.”
“Perhaps. But something’s coming. In Bish, there always is.”
CHAPTER 10
Creed sat on his bed in the master room of Castle Bloodhound. The rangy redheaded warrior’s dog, Manx—a shaggy brute of a beast—lay over top of his legs. Creed stroked the dog’s back as he watched Lorda Almen. She sat at her vanity, facing the mirror, combing her silky black hair. She wore nothing but a black negligee that did little to cover her hourglass curves.
Shirtless and half under the sheets, Creed said, “I have to admit, I’m very surprised at your unwillingness to leave my castle. I thought you would be eager for it?”
Lorda turned in her seat. Her beautiful, piercing blue eyes could capture any man’s soul. “Your castle?”
Creed stirred in the sheets. He tried to move his legs, but the more he moved, the more Manx moved on top of him. “I suppose, when we marry, it will be our castle, but for now, it’s still mine.” He shot her a smile. “Respectfully.”
Brushing her raven locks, she said, “If that’s a proposal, it’s a lousy one. But to answer your question, Creed, no, I don’t want to go. To be clear, I’ve become very fond of this place for some reason. I don’t smell the dogs anymore, and for whatever reason, it’s cozy.”
“I’m flattered, but now is not the time for comfort. We need to rally with Venir and the dwarves at Castle Kling. Strength must be in numbers in a time like this. It’s paramount for my survival. Our survival.”
Her prim brows knit together. “I don’t want to be near this Venir. He killed my precious son, Tonio. If I see that man, I might kill him. My heart hurts for him.”
“I don’t think you will see him. He’ll be out in the field. He’s not a castle dweller, like us royals.”
“Do I hear the sound of ambition ringing in your voice? You aren’t royal. The Bloodhounds are a bastard version of true royals at best.”
“Come now, when I wed your royal blood, we can have a castle vaster than this. Or not, if you like this cozier situation. But I know you, Lorda. I understand your ambitions. You won’t be satisfied here for long.” He scratched Manx behind the ears. “You will want what you once had and more. Once this fight ends with the underlings, if it ends, there will be blood spilt between many castles. We need to be ready.”
Lorda’s eyes lit up. The seductive purr returned to her voice. “Creed, your ambition astounds me. I like it. I like it very much.” She moved over to the bed and snapped her finger. Manx moved to the floor. Creed’s eyes widened. As he opened his mouth to speak, she cut him off. “Don’t speak, just feel.” She straddled him. Her gentle fingers stirred the hairs on his chest. “Take me again, Lord Creed.”
While they were in the throes of passionate kisses, a knock came at the door. “Go away!” Creed said. The knocking resumed, harder and faster.
“Go away!”
The knocking became a pounding.
Lorda Almen broke her lips from his. Panting, she said, “Go ahead. I’m not going anywhere.”
Sliding out of the bed, Creed went to the door holding a pillow over his waist. He cracked it open. Jasper and Rayal stood in the hallway. “Yes?”
“There’s trouble outside the gate,” Jasper said. The gothic sorceress’s eyes were big as moons. “It’s underlings. They pound your very gates.”
Creed look back at Lorda. “Cat, we need to continue this another time. There’s more fighting to do. Get dressed.”
***
Castle Bloodhound was a much smaller facility than the neighboring castles. It could hold one hundred men, whereas the royals could hold hundreds, including family and staff. Unlike the typical royal castles, the Bloodhounds didn’t have servants. They did their own work. It was part of their code, being well-rounded from the bottom up. Every Bloodhound knew how to do what the other did, but some excelled at different things than others. Every ma
n and woman worked hard to reveal his or her gifts.
Creed stood on the ramparts on the front end of his castle, looking down on the Royal Roadway. The wide road not only connected one gate to the other, but it also made a ring around the internal perimeter of the city. He looked down at the men pounding on the gates. They weren’t underlings, they were dwarves. The burly men pounded the entry door with fists that sounded like they were hard as stone. “Those are dwarves! Who reported them as underlings?”
“Edmund did,” Rayal responded. The raven-haired beauty twirled her hair on her finger as she rocked back and forth, looking over the wall. “I’m sorry, but I know the difference between a dwarf and an underling. This is the first time I’ve been up here. The knocking is news to me.”
Creed’s eyes followed the road northwest of his position. A host of dwarves made a full blockade one castle down. No underling would make it down that road unless they came over the rooftops. There wasn’t a spider or underling in sight, either. The City of Bone, once a lively place thriving with activity, had become a dead place. “That still doesn’t explain why they are knocking at the door.” He shouted down to the dwarves, “What do you want?”
The black-beards turned their heads upward. Each dwarf had a big nose on his face. Their beards, some braided and some not, covered most of their chests. One with a hatchet made with a hammer on the back end said something in Dwarven. The only word Creed understood was Mood.” “I don’t understand. Do you speak Common?”
In very broken Common, the dwarf said, “Time to depart. Mood’s orders.”
Creed flung his hands up. “I know. We are working on it. Will you stop pounding on my doors.”
The dwarf shouted something in Dwarven. They hit the door a few more times and walked away.
“That’s odd,” Creed said. Addressing Rayal, he added, “And you said that Edmund said they were underlings.” She nodded. “I’m certain that despite Edmund’s lack of literacy, he wouldn’t have gotten this mixed up. Everyone in this city knows what an underling is by now. Even the blind. Where are my men, anyway? You gave them my summons, didn’t you?”
The Darkslayer: Series 2 Special Edition (Bish and Bone Bundle Books 6-10): Sword and Sorcery Adventures Page 55