“I can’t believe Chongo can’t find him.” Brak hugged the big dog’s thick necks. “That doesn’t sound possible.”
“He’d be able to find his scent if he was still living, I’m afraid.” Mood handed Venir’s long hunting knife over to Brak. “I found this.”
Brak’s eyes became misty.
Kam sucked in her breath.
“Pardon, Kam, I mean to say, living on this world. In the Mist, it’s hard to tell. But I think, wherever Venir went, he took the underlings with him. All of them, I suppose.”
“No underlings have been reported since the reckoning at the gate.” Melegal scratched Chongo behind the ears. “Bone was peaceful an entire three days before the royal bickering began. It’s a shame that Venir couldn’t take them with him, too.” He caught Rayal’s eyes. “Most of them.”
With a faint smile, she hooked her arm in his, and together they walked away.
Brak and Georgio joined Nikkel and Billip. Brak said to Kam, “We are heading out. I can’t help but want to take a look for myself. I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t.”
Kam rose up on her tiptoes to kiss him, but Brak still had to bend down. “Be careful.” She hugged and kissed the other three too. “All of you. I don’t want to lose anyone else.” With eyes full of tears, she watched them go. She looked at Mood. “I take it you’re leaving?”
“Aye.”
“And Chongo?” she said. Erin had climbed up on the dog’s back and was playing with his tails.
“I think he’ll always be here to protect you.”
“Good-bye, Mood.”
After the dwarf left, she said to Fogle, “Are you still going back to Three?”
“It’s my home, and it’s your home, as well. Don’t forget to come and visit sometime.”
“Is everyone leaving at once?” Kam said. She noticed Jarla leading Nightmare out of the stables. She’d been surprised the woman stuck around so long.
“Jarla’s going to escort me. As if I need her protection,” he said with a smile. He wrapped his arms around her. “Good-bye, Kam. I hope Venir comes back someday. If not, you know where I am.”
“Yes, with me.” Jarla helped Fogle into the saddle. “Until we meet again, you red-headed witch.” She gave a quick wink and smile. “Yah!” She and Fogle rode out the gate.
Ebenezer offered his arm. “Shall we get something to eat, Kam?”
With a half-empty heart, she said, “I suppose.”
EPILOGUE
Venir labored through the Mist, an automaton of death. His assault on the underlings did not cease. There was no quit in their pursuit of him. Back and forth they went in a tangle of limbs and busted teeth. Bones were chopped clean through. Muscle was shredded. He did not sleep. He did not stop. He fought.
He shuffled over the dead. Many of the bodies that he came across had rotted to the bone. With vengeance serving as a fuel to avenge all of those whom the underlings murdered and mutilated in the night, Venir hacked his way through the Mist in a dreamlike state. The reality he knew was gone. It was just him, the Mist, and the underlings. Juegen, badoon, spiders, magi, and clerics, with all of their invasive magic and webbing, pursued him. He fought them all. Spears, swords, darts, and bolts coated in poison ravaged his skin. Struck his bones. It didn’t stop him.
Unlike before, when his time in the Mist consisted of a never-ending free fall, he had purpose. The armament led him to his enemies. It led his enemies to him. In a fatal cat-and-mouse game, they fought on. He descended on a camp of them where he caught them sleeping and slaughtered them all. His trek went on for leagues. The days could not be counted.
An underling burst into his unseen path. Brool flashed out like a striking snake. Its head flipped off its shoulders. Venir batted it midair into the Mist. With no end in sight, he kept whittling down their numbers. He delighted in it. He hated it. Pushing himself a hundred times past human limits, he did not relent.
He died.
He rose.
It happened more times than he could remember. The pain was never the same. Always worse, but he’d come back together to fight and die again.
He weaved his way through a channel of rocks. His blood-soaked boots were covered in dust. Webs were cast all around. He sliced through them and came upon a graveyard of bones. Underling bones. Helm throbbed. He spun around. Brool shattered the blades of two underlings. Venir stuffed his shield into their mouths. The tip of Brool ripped their guts out. A juegen in full armor staggered out of a hiding spot. His swords were quick, but not quick enough. Venir busted open the hard metal armor that normal steel could not penetrate. The underling died, its final breath gurgling its own blood.
Helm’s throbbing ended. Venir’s limbs went numb. He stood, axe in hand, swaying. He didn’t sense a single underling living at all. Can it be? His stomach growled. On feet that felt like bags of sand, he walked and walked and walked. Finally, the Mist faded, replaced by bright burning suns in the sky. He kept going for a mile, dropped to his knees, unbuckled Helm, dropped it in the dirt, kissed the sun-cracked ground, and lay down with his eyes to the sky. Exhausted, he fell into a deep sleep.
Venir woke in the soft arms of a beautiful platinum-haired woman. Her eyes shone like the stars. “Hello, Venir, are you well?” she asked.
A part of him wanted to sit up, but he was too comfortable. “Trinos?”
“Yes.” She gently ran her elegant fingers over his face. “You’ve suffered greatly, Venir. I marvel at your endurance. You survived where any other I’ve ever known would have perished. You are a true champion, and I’m grateful. Frankly, I don’t think I’d have made another appearance in this world if you hadn’t. They got to me, those underlings, so vile and full of evil. I should’ve known better. But you’ve restored my faith in many things.”
“I’m hungry, Trinos. Did you bring anything to eat?”
She pointed to a blanket spread out on the ground with a platter of all sorts of food. There were stacks of meat, steaming biscuits, and fragrant cheeses. He rolled off her lap and crawled toward it. “Eat.”
“This isn’t a dream, is it?”
Trinos shook her head. The silvery gown she wore was as gorgeous as her. Her hourglass figure was perfection. She drew her knees to her chest and watched him eat. “What will you do now, Venir?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve slain all of the underlings, and without them your world will never be the same.”
“I’d think it would be better, unless that is too much to ask.”
“Venir, you could stay with me. There are other worlds that could use a spirit like yours. And, I want you with me.”
He drank from a clay jug. “This is wine. Do you have ale?”
Blink. Eep appeared with another colorful furnace-baked jug and set it down on the blanket. The imp glared at Venir.
Venir glared back. “Interesting company you keep.”
“He is my creation. Obedient to his master.”
Venir grunted. “I thought you couldn’t leave Bish?”
She scooted over and cozied up to him. “There is another way that I only recently discovered. You see worlds can be as big or small as you can imagine. I’d like to explore more of them with you.”
He made a gruff little laugh. “Underlings or no underlings, I belong here.” He finished off a big bite of roasted venison, stood back up, and sucked the grease from his fingertips. He helped Trinos to her feet. “Thanks for the food and the axe, but I’m better off on my own.”
Standing as tall as him, she gave him a full-bodied hug and a kiss that set his blood on fire. In his ear she said, “If you ever change your mind just whisper my name. I’ll come for you.” She backed away from him, and holding the sack in her hand, she reached inside. She pulled the bottom of the sack out of the top of the neck, creating a rift in time and space showing a sea of black with twinkling stars inlaid on its tapestry. “Are you certain, Venir? You might not like what you find when you return.”
He slung Brool over his shoulder and said, “I don’t care, lady. I’m going home.”
***
After several days of walking southwest, Venir came upon familiar caravan trails that led to the City of Bone. From over a mile away he caught his first glimpse of the city’s expansive walls. Royal banners billowed colorfully from the castles’ spires. Veering away from the main path that led to the North Gate where the flow of traffic was busy, he headed toward the southern wall. Royal soldiers guarded the walls behind the parapet and battlements. The flow of traffic was easy. No one begged outside the walls.
Not wanting to risk having his axe confiscated, Venir entered into the cave that concealed the secret tunnel. He dug away the dirt that collapsed around it. He found a key in the cleft, dusted out the lock, and entered. Closing the door behind him he walked through the cold darkness of the corridor back into the abandoned stable. The musty smell of barn wood, manure, and hay was welcoming. He buried the armament in the hay and ventured outside of the stable, locking it behind him.
The spiders that filled the rafters when the underlings controlled the city were gone. Now, the pigeons lined the giant skylight that ran from one end to the other. The old barn was as decrepit as ever. Still filthy as a pig in blood, Venir stole a moth-eaten cloak from the stable hand’s nook. It was snug over his shoulders, but it would do. He traveled the streets, not pausing to look at anyone. The foot traffic was much like it used to be. Merchants fought for spots along the road for their carts full of wares and merchandise. Blurry-eyed vagrants staggered through the streets. Small groups of the city watch trampled by on horses. They busted a man who dared to argue with them over the head with a straight club of wood.
Venir weaved his way through the filth-ridden alleys, angling for the Drunken Octopus. As the setting suns shadowed the city and the hot cobblestone streets began to cool, an odd feeling crept over him. Bone was his city, but it was not his city. Something was off. He recalled what Trinos said that he might not like what he found. What was she talking about? Determined to get cleaned up before he pursued Kam, somewhat fearful of what he might find, he stopped outside the Drunken Octopus. The sign that hung above him had a fresh coat of paint.
As soon as he pushed his way through the door, two goons zeroed in on him. “Get out of here, bum!” one man said. He had a chewed-up ear and wasn’t nearly as big as Venir. He shoved Venir in the chest. Venir picked the man up by the neck with one hand. He slugged the other man in the jaw with the other. The goon was out cold, possibly dead.
The one in his grip pleaded in a raspy voice, “Please don’t kill me. Please!”
Venir’s hood had fallen down over his shoulders, revealing his face. Sam, the barkeep, hustled over. With caution he said, “Let him down. He’s just doing his job. Sit, have a drink. It’s been a long time, stranger.”
He dropped the man and took a seat behind the table at the bar. He could feel every eye in the smoky room on his back. They weren’t the same kind of folk he was used to. Judging by their clothing, they were royals, a snickering and snobby ilk.
The pock-faced barkeep filled a tankard of ale to the rim and added a clay tumbler full of grog. “It’s on the house. As much as you want.” He looked over Venir’s shoulders at the men glaring at him from the table making crude remarks underneath their breath. “Just ignore those cackling hyenas. They don’t mean well, but they pay well.”
Venir gulped down the ale. “I need to get some clothes and get cleaned up.”
“I’ll set you up.”
Venir drank one after the other then staggered up the stairs. The chronic tension behind his eyes eased. For the first time in years he relaxed. Upstairs, a bath in an iron tub had been filled with steaming water. Fresh towels and suitable clothing were laid on the floor. He stripped everything off and took a seat in the hot water that sloshed over the rim onto the floor. He let out a long “Aaaaaah!” All alone, he soaked for an hour. He clawed at his beard that was down to his chest. For the first time, he realized that he had more hair than he ever had. He hollered out, “I need a trim and a shave!”
A simple maiden entered. Dressed in drab clothing, she made quick work of his beard and hair. Clean-shaven, Venir dried off and dressed. His boots had been polished, but blood had still soaked into the leather. Refreshed, he made his way down the stairs. The tavern was empty, aside from two dozen royal soldiers in full suits of chainmail armor. His eyes drifted toward the barkeep, who said, “I had no choice.”
Weaponless, Venir raised his hands. “What am I wanted for? I just got here.”
“You struck a royal henchman,” the commander of the group said. He was a stocky man with a coarse head of blond hair. His chin had been split by a blade at some point. “Will you cooperate?”
“I suppose.”
With his arms shackled behind him, Venir was marched down the streets to the Royal Roadway. They passed the West Gate, which was heavily guarded but wide open. They moved on in front of where Castle Kling once stood and entered the courtyard. From there, Venir was led into the throne room. A man in the full array of garish royal clothing sat on a chair cast from pure silver and encrusted with pearls. His head was down. He stroked the fur of a huge black cat on his lap.
He waved his hand, and the soldiers unlocked Venir’s bonds and departed, leaving the two men in the vast throne room all alone.
Venir studied the man. The cat was Octopus. The smoky eyes of the feline made him certain. But the man who could be Melegal he wasn’t so sure about. His fingers were too pudgy and his hips too full for the seat. But the stringy hair that hung in the man’s eyes was salt and pepper. Breaking the silence, he said, “Melegal?”
The man stopped stroking the cat. Octopus hopped away and glided out of the room. The man’s steely gaze met Venir’s. His eyes widened. His jaw hung for a moment, and he said, “Finally, the prodigal lout returns! Where have you been?”
“Killing underlings. What have you been doing, gorging on wine and pastries? Your arse is as wide as mine.”
“Hardly.” Melegal came to his feet with a smile. He trotted down the steps with the same nimble ease, but at least twenty pounds heavier. He slapped Venir’s shoulders. “Welcome, Venir. Welcome to Castle Melegal!”
Venir cocked a brow. “You stole a castle?”
“In a manner of speaking. You’ve been gone quite some time. Things have changed.”
“Yes, you are delusional.”
“No, I am a royal.” Melegal brimmed in a dark sort of way. “To be honest, when Sam reported you had returned, I didn’t believe it. I thought you were gone, forever. You’d never been gone so long. Have you really been fighting underlings all this time?”
“Yes.” Venir noted the crow’s feet, which hadn’t been there before, building in the corners of Melegal’s eyes. There was certainly more meat on his bones. “I just finished fighting the underlings. I killed the last one days ago.” Venir recalled the last time he’d come out of the Mist. He’d lost over two years of his life. He eyed his old friend. “How long have I been gone, Melegal?”
Melegal moved to a serving table and filled a golden goblet with purple wine. “No one has seen a living underling since the day you departed. We called it the Reckoning at the Gate.” He shivered like he’d seen a ghost, drank down some wine, looked Venir back in the eye, and said, “You’ve been gone over ten years.”
“Ten years!”
“Closer to eleven, maybe twelve, perhaps. As you can see, I’ve been very busy. When you run your own castle it’s easy to lose track of the less important things. No offense. I can’t believe you’ve been fighting the underlings for a decade! Only you. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, but I can’t help but be. Have you eaten since? You look as skinny as me.”
“That’s not saying much.” Venir’s tone got more serious. “Where are Kam, Erin, and Brak?”
“Kam waited for you for years, but tired of the turmoil in this city. They returned to the City of Three. Brak and Georgio looke
d for you, on and off, but I think they’ve moved on. I haven’t seen them in…”—he counted on his fingers—“six years, at least. Brak was standing at eight feet the last I saw him. I believe they ride with the Jung now.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Venir, that all you ever knew is gone, but at least you saved this wretched city. Perhaps the world. I know that. We all do. As for the rest of the fine citizens, well, the taverns still whisper about the Darkslayer.” Melegal gave Venir a quick wink. “But, their self-loathing lives move on to more important things. In truth, no one cares unless it’s about themselves. It is Bone, after all.”
“I wouldn’t expect it to be any different.” Venir took a seat on the steps. He found comfort knowing that his friends and family were alive, at least many years ago. He couldn’t blame them for moving on.
“I can send for them,” Melegal added.
“No, I suppose I can find them myself. It’s not as if I have anything else to do.” He eyed Melegal. “Did Kam leave with Fogle?”
“As a matter of fact, no, he left with Jarla to the City of Three. It’s my understanding that they have a nest of children.” Melegal sat beside Venir and patted his broad back. “You can stay here as long as you like, Venir. The linens are as soft as rose petals. I could use a friend at my back too. My enemies are always at the gate, and there is no better friend than you. What do you say?”
Venir sneered. “You sound like a royal.”
“And I feel like one.” Melegal puffed his chest out. “I wash, but I always feel dirty. I thought I would like it better.”
Venir nodded. Eyeing the vaulted ceilings, he said, “How did this all come about?”
“It’s a long story with as much peril and danger as I’ve ever known.”
“Was it worth it?”
“I took a lot of rotten royals down to find that painting in the process, so yes.”
He spied a painting on the wall with a group of people in it. Royals. Melegal appeared to be in the painting, but it appeared much older than from the present times. He pointed at it. “That’s not you, is it?”
The Darkslayer: Series 2 Special Edition (Bish and Bone Bundle Books 6-10): Sword and Sorcery Adventures Page 66