The Darkslayer: Series 2 Special Edition (Bish and Bone Bundle Books 1-5): Sword and Sorcery Adventures

by Craig Halloran

  “Time’s up,” he sputtered.

  The hands of the underling magi charged white with hot power.

  Fogle lifted his chin.

  “Give it all you can, fiends!”

  The ground opened beneath him. Blackness sucked him in.

  CHAPTER 23

  The roughneck with the blue-black beard’s cheeks flushed.

  “Coward?” he snorted at Venir, grinding his teeth. “Coward is the last thing you’ll say.” He pulled two daggers from concealed sheaths.

  Venir slapped the tough hard in the face, spinning him to the ground.

  The gathered crowd gasped, then gawked in silence, watching the tough shake his head. He started up again.

  Venir stood and watched, fire pumping through his arms.

  The burly man’s ale-addled brain hadn’t registered what was going on. Drunken courage and humiliation glossed over his eyes. Unable to comprehend the ultimate warrior who faced him, the man took a knee, wiped his chin, and snatched his daggers up off the filthy floor. His scowl turned into a snarl, and a command followed.

  “Kill him!”

  Venir’s temper unhitched. His long hunting knife snaked out and gutted the closest man behind him. His mighty frame burst into motion. A tiger among jackals.

  Sock!

  He crushed a man’s jaw.

  Snatch.

  Caught one by the beard and slung him into two others.

  People scrambled from his fury.

  Women screamed.

  Venir laughed. It was an angry laugh. How dare they challenge him. He snatched up a chair and spun like a mill. Knife slashing any man who got close.

  “Come on, Children of the Towers! Let’s see what kind of fight you have in you!”

  Smash!

  He brought the chair down on the blue-bearded roughneck’s head.

  The burly man fell limp on the blood-slicked floor. Two more toughs charged, swords in hand.

  Slice!

  Blood spurted from the first swordsman’s wrist.

  Swish!

  Venir ducked under the other’s cut and swept the man’s legs out from under him with his arm. When the man’s head cracked on the planks, his sword fell from his grasp. Venir snatched it up and stood tall, snarling at the crowd with two weapons in his hands.

  “I’m going to kill every one of you men if you don’t get the Bish out of here!”

  Men of all sorts rushed for the door, avoiding his eyes. Only a few stayed, hard-faced and grim, leering and brandishing weapons.

  “It’s a fine day to meet your grave.”

  Venir started forward.

  A woman’s hands locked on his wrists. It was Jasper.

  “Enough,” she said. “You’ve proven enough here, Outlander. These men deserve to live.”

  Venir stared down at her and said, “Says who?”

  Her black lips formed a playful smile.

  “Me.”

  A jolt went through him, standing every hair on end. Edged metal clattered on the planks. He sagged, but regained himself. Snatching Jasper by the wrist, bending it behind her back, and jerking her up on her toes in one fluid motion, he sneered at her and said, “That tickled, Wench.”

  “Slat! You still stand!” she exclaimed, eyes wide. “That should have put you down. Impossible!”

  He slung her into the men across the room. Spat the taste of metal from his mouth. The spell she had cast was similar to one Kam had used on him half a dozen times before. But it was nothing compared to underling bolts. His mind raced.

  Not sure if they want me dead or not.

  And what about Melegal? Are they trying to kill him, too?

  The large and lanky one-eyed bouncer from the front door stepped from the shadows. Almost as tall and broad as Venir, he glided into the room with pantherish ease. Shirtless and coated in oily muscles. A straight pair of fine blades adorned his large and calloused hands.

  “I’ll dance with you, Outlander,” he said, lifting his chin. “Everyone, spread out.”

  Venir faced the man off and said, “It’s your life to waste.”

  The one-eyed swordsman spun his swords with his wrists and started to circle.

  Venir had cut his battle teeth using swords to thwart the pathetic attacks of royal brats. The heavy blade was like an old friend in his hand, but he would have felt better holding Brool, or at least Mood’s dwarven axes. This blade was a crude piece of steel compared to the fine-forged steel in the other’s palms. The smooth gait of the man left him a little uneasy. The man moved with the grace of a true swordsman.

  Suddenly, the man in the eye-patch weaved his swords in a flash of spinning metal and lunged. Venir swatted away the steel tongues.

  Clang!

  The man jumped back.

  “Kill him, Patch!” a tough yelled.

  “All in due time,” Patch bragged. He spoke with a silky accent. “Just seeing what this stranger is made of. If he’s more than the heavy coat of brawn he wears.”

  Venir couldn’t imagine a one-eyed swordsman lasting very long. But the savvy fighter did have an edge in length of blades. Not to mention a home court of rogues at his call. Venir lunged in and skipped back.

  A blade licked out at his throat.

  He banged away another that stabbed at his leg.

  Patch kept his blades up and waggled his neck a bit.

  “I’ve not seen many big men that are so quick. Always thought I was one of a kind.”

  Patch lunged and stabbed his blades.

  Venir’s arms snapped up and batted them away. All four blades started to sing.

  Clang. Bang.

  Clang. Clang. Swish. Bang.

  Swish. Clang. Bang. Bang.

  Patch pressed.

  Venir defended. His footing slipped in blood.

  Patch’s sword dug into his shoulder, making Venir’s blood drip to the floor. The raucous crowd roared. Chair legs made a racket on the floor.

  “Score one for me,” Patch said, bare chest heaving a little. “Only a matter of time now. Of course, you could yield. Leave as peaceably as we met.”

  “You’re a fool, Patch,” Venir said, snarling.

  “Oh?” Patch smiled. “And why is—”

  Venir sprang like a wild tiger. Brought his sword down with zero finesse but with all of his strength.

  Because you fight by the rules of honor, yet you taunt below the belt.

  Patch caught the strike with crossed swords. Steel rang off steel. But the impact drove Patch’s arms down. Shock filled the man’s face.

  Now that downward motion made it easier, Venir struck harder. Again. And again.

  Clang! Clang! Clang!

  At the same time, Venir’s long knife licked a wound into Patch’s belly. Another across his chest.

  The bewildered swordsman fought for his life, bringing his arms up on guard slower and slower each time.

  Clang! Clang! Clang!

  “Nothing to say, One-eye!” Venir said.

  Bang!

  Patch’s sword clattered to the floor.

  Bang!

  So fell the other.

  Heavy for breath and broken out in rivers of sweat, Patch dropped to his knees. He held his arms out wide and cried. “Yield. I yield, you fearsome beast!”

  Slice!

  Venir’s hunting knife took the tips of his fingers off.

  “That’s for making me angry.”

  Bang!

  He pummeled Patch’s head with the flat of his sword. The man dropped cold.

  “That’s for running your mouth.”

  Venir scanned the room.

  “Anybody else care to dance?”

  Fear-filled, the remaining few fighting men exited the room.

  Blood hot as fire, Venir slung the sword across the room and sheathed his grandfather’s knife. Only Jasper and the bartender remained inside with him.

  “Take me to my friend,” Venir said, approaching the woman. “Now.”

  She held her palms up and bac
ked away, saying, “He’ll be fine. Just wait.”

  Underlings!

  Venir’s Outland instincts fired, from fingertip to toenail. He was hearing the cry of Melegal’s voice in his head. How, he didn’t know.

  He unslung his pack.

  “Jasper, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll tell me where he is. Now.” He pointed to the blood-stained floor. “You’ve seen what I can do.”

  “Are you going to kill a woman?” she said, curious.

  “No,” he said, pulling out the sack, “but I’ll kill every man who has anything to do with her.”

  The bartender darted out from behind the door and disappeared through the front door. When Venir turned back around, Jasper was gone.

  “Bone!”

  CHAPTER 24

  The underling’s hands locked onto Melegal’s elbows and held him fast. Black nails dug into his arms.

  Slat that was fast! Any lower, and he would have triggered my bracers.

  Urku’s grip was cold iron. His citrine eyes like yellow fires.

  Melegal remained still as a stone. Skin recoiling. He had seen plenty of underlings over the years, and they always disturbed him. Their bright eyes never slept. Always, there was a dark spark of life in them that remained even after death.

  Uneasy inside, Melegal remained cool on the outside.

  “Zoc,” he said to the meaty man at the table, “is this what I’m here for? To hold hands with underlings?” He sucked his teeth. “I’ve delivered. Now what do I need to pick up?”

  Zoc had started to speak when his fat neck twisted upward. Dust fell from the rafters above, in unison with some heavy thump thumps. The pack of rogues also eyed the roof above, eyes narrowing, chins up with curiosity. The thick dark oak groaned a little.

  Melegal snapped his fingers in front of Zoc’s face.

  “We’re still transacting, if you please.” His eyes drifted back to the underling. “And if you don’t mind, I think your fuzzy comrade can let go of me.”

  “Uh …” Zoc started. “Yes-yes well … I have no control over Urku. He’ll let you be when he wants to let you be.” He cleared his throat. “But it seems you’re handling it quite well. Seems you’re better acquainted with underlings than most.”

  “You could say that.”

  Urku slid his hand away. Chittered a little laughter.

  Melegal so hated the natural scowls on their evil faces. A sneer made up of hard lines. The natural edge to their teeth was another disturbing thing, and the sight of the hairy spiders they’d ride on. Vermin on vermin.

  “So, to continue,” Zoc said, taking his eyes away from the ceiling, where the soft thumps and scuffles had stopped, “it is imperative you have no reservation whom you do business with. There are those that remain loyal to their own kind and don’t find dealing with underlings beneficial.” He dabbed his brow. “You seem comfortable.”

  “I am.” Not! What in Bish is going on!

  Melegal had long-ago realized there were some who consorted with underlings. He knew Lord Almen had, and Jarla. But now one sat in a room with men, dwarves, and halflings. That was unheard of. In every city he’d been to, he’d heard tales of men that died rather than dicker with underlings. The world had changed in what seemed to be less than a day.

  But Quickster.

  He avoided Urku-the-underling’s hard stare and addressed Zoc.

  “I don’t care. If it’s the job, then it’s the job.” He eyed the sack of coins on the table. “Be it one underling or twenty.”

  “That’s good, very good,” Zoc said, “because the underlings have much to offer the upper world. Especially in times of war.” He shoved the sack back to Melegal. “This is yours.”

  Melegal stretched his bony hand over it and said, “I’m taking nothing back? No goods, no nothing?”

  Zoc leaned back on his groaning chair and clasped his hands over his belly.

  “You’ve passed the test, Fearless One. I even think Urku likes you.”

  The underling flashed a crude grin. Made a sharp twitter.

  “And that’s a good thing,” Zoc said, “because if he likes you, so will his brothers.”

  Two more underlings flanked Melegal’s narrow shoulders. The fine hairs on his neck stood up. He glanced at one and then the other. Shirtless, they had many rings in their ears, brandings and marking in their skin. Belts hefted blades around their hard bellies. Eyes like bloodstones.

  “Just two more of our many associates you’ll become acquainted with. Ha!” Zoc said, slapping the table. “You’ll be sharing port with them before long.”

  “And that’s it? I can go and await the next order?”

  “Just remember, breaking with this trade won’t end well. Our eyes and ears are everywhere.”

  “I know,” Melegal said, pushing his chair back from the table. So glad this is almost over. Get out of Three. Get out of Three. Get out of Three! He stood. “Who’s showing me out? What happened to that little black-haired morsel?”

  Jasper emerged from nowhere. Whispered in Zoc’s ear, eyeing Melegal.

  The merchant-thief’s eyes brightened. “Hold,” he said, holding up his hand.

  The underlings seized Melegal.

  Zoc said, “It seems your friend has stirred much—”

  Chok! Chok! Chok!

  The hollow chopping sound came from the ceiling above. Everyone looked and stayed looking.

  Chok!

  A glimmer of light winked through a hole above.

  Chok! Chok! Chok!

  A large piece of the dark oak-wood floor fell through, leaving a gaping hole.

  “What in the world of Bish is going on!” Zoc jumped up and exclaimed.

  A dark hulk dropped through the ceiling, holding a massive axe. Angry eyes gleamed out the eyelets of the dark metal helmet.

  The underlings chittered in rage.

  “Your allies are about to become dog food,” Melegal said.

  ***

  Jasper stood in stark silence. Here again was the man she’d seen make quick work of the men above. He was something else. A destroyer in dark metal armor.

  The underlings screeched. Rage filled their faces.

  Her fingernails dug into Zoc’s meaty arm.

  In two great strides, the man in the spiked helmet crossed the room and struck. The great blade sang with a sharp howl in the air. The yellow-eyed head of the underling Urku flew through the air, leaving a trail of black blood behind it. The second underling darted in, stabbed. A savage chop split its body in half.

  Jasper gasped. She’d never seen black blood.

  Twing! Twing!

  The third underling, the one that held Melegal, howled and hopped, plucking at the darts in its toes. Melegal skewered its back in a lightning-quick lunge. The underling slipped dead from his blade.

  So fast. So fast. So fast. Her lips trembled. Her jaw sagged. She couldn’t even summon a protective spell. Who in Bish are these men?

  That’s when the other rogues closed in. All short weapons. No armor.

  Slice!

  Two men fell at once. Top Hat and Catcher were their names. Humans bleeding to death. Eyes wide with horror and desperation.

  Twing! Twing!

  The other two men caught darts in their throats. Desperate fingers clutched at their necks. The war axe finished them off in two strokes of lightning.

  The halfling ran.

  Twing! Twing!

  Darts filled his legs, and he crashed to the floor.

  The dwarf tried to bowl the helmed warrior over.

  Glitch!

  The attempt was fatal.

  Only one rogue escaped: the halfling, full of darts but crawling on the floor. All the underlings were dead, which left only Jasper and Zoc, standing in horror. So much blood in so little time.

  The wiry thief yelled at the gore-dripping slayer.

  “You idiot! My bargaining was done!”

  The man in the helmet scanned the room. Face eerie. Voice smoky.


  “There are more.”

  “I don’t want more. I want to leave,” Melegal said, straightening his cap. “I’m going.” He turned his head to Zoc. “Are we finished here?”

  Zoc nodded his sweat-covered face. Swallowed hard.

  “I just hope your comrade is finished here.”

  The tip of Venir’s axe appeared underneath Zoc’s chin. He said, “How do I get to them?”

  Zoc swallowed again. Blinking rapidly. Jasper backed away. Heart thundering.

  “Who?” Zoc said.

  Venir pushed the spike a little harder. The heavy man blanched.

  “I wouldn’t play games with him,” Melegal said to Zoc. “He really has issues with underlings.” He pointed at Jasper. “You. Lead me out of here. Not that I couldn’t find my way, but I wouldn’t be caught leaving this snake pit without a decent-looking woman on my arm.”

  Jasper perked up. She was drawn to the man’s smooth words.

  “Which way to them?” Venir growled at Zoc.

  Blood dripped down Zoc’s chin. He pointed toward the dark curtains that hung to the right side of the cold stone fireplace.

  Venir jerked back his blade and nodded at Melegal. In a few steps, he vanished behind the curtain.

  Zoc exhaled and mopped the sweat from his eyes. He scanned the horrific surroundings.

  “How did this happen? He killed almost everybody.”

  “Simple. You did something stupid,” Melegal said. He stuck out his elbow. Jasper took it.

  “Oh,” Zoc said, rubbing his head. “The underlings will be furious with what your friend did. But he shouldn’t be a problem for long. Not where he goes. Not even my best fighting men dare venture down there.”

  “Who?” Melegal said, looking at the dead. “Those guys?”

  “Let’s go,” Jasper said, pulling on Melegal’s arm.

  He followed her lead.

  Zoc said one last thing.

  “There’s more than underlings below. Other terrible things.”

  “And I’m sure my friend can’t wait to meet them.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Fogle’s stomach sank. Wind rushed by his ears.

  Where am I!