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

by Craig Halloran

  “I like most women, so long as they don’t talk too much.” He cleared his throat. “You shouldn’t be jealous.”

  “Jealous?” Jaen perked up. “Ha! Magi are above such trivial things.”

  “Well that’s good, because I’ve take a fancy to Jasper’s charms.”

  Jaen turned her chin over her shoulder and said to him, “I don’t care.”

  “Yet your cheeks redden somewhat.” He smiled. “I’m flattered.”

  “Ha! Don’t overestimate yourself, Envoy. You’re just a commoner to me.”

  “So the wine we shared had no meaning,” Melegal said, locking his fingers behind his head and leaning back. “Even though you picked me, out of all the rogues in the city?”

  “Tell me what happened,” she said, being matter-of-fact.

  “Do I get my Quickster back?”

  “Of course. Your ass means nothing to me, but the fact that it means something to you is quite sad.”

  Melegal nodded. Though he still wondered why the amiable sweet-faced woman had become so frosty. Her personality had made quite a switch. He wondered if Jaen was even the same woman.

  “Well, I think you already know the answer to that, or you wouldn’t have jerked us up here so fast.” He jerked his locked hands over his head and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

  Jaen flinched.

  Melegal said, “Say, how about we discuss this over some wine?”

  Her painted eyes narrowed.

  “No.”

  Melegal leaned back and said, “Alright, then tell me what you know. I know you know something. How, I don’t know.”

  Jaen poured the pouch of gems and jewels out on the table. She picked up a small amethyst and held it to her ear. It matched her earring. She plucked it out and tossed it to Melegal. “Hold it to your ear,” she said.

  He did so.

  “Listen,” she said, pursing her soft lips. She started blowing on the amethyst she held and whispering as well. “You never know who’s listening.”

  He heard it perfectly.

  “I’ll be,” he said, setting the earring down. His thoughts were haunted. He’d had no idea the magi could do such things. It sent a shiver through him. “So you heard everything?”

  She nodded.

  “But fear not. These are rare things.” At a wave of her hand, the earring glided through the air and reattached itself to her earlobe. “We don’t have many at our disposal.”

  So you say.

  “And we have to be careful who we deal with,” she continued. “Keep tabs on their dealings.”

  Melegal eyed the treasure on the table.

  “Are they all magic?”

  “Not all.” Jaen twirled her finger. The coins and gems scratched over the table and back into the pouch. “But enough of them.” She placed her hands on her exposed knees. “Now, seeing how you survived your first test, are you still interested in being an envoy for us?”

  “What, dicker with underlings? You do realize that won’t end well.”

  “Everything was going fine until your comrade spoiled things.” She sighed. “A shame, because he could have been useful. A bit too brazen for our likes.”

  “You lured him there?” Melegal said.

  “Where?”

  “That snake pit you sent me to.” He started feeling a little foolish. “You were testing him too?” His nostrils flared a little, and his easy breathing increased. “How long have you been watching us?”

  “Long enough,” she said. “Long enough to understand that the pair of you have a great understanding of underlings. We thought it might be useful.”

  Melegal raised his voice.

  “Who in Bish is ‘we’?” He scanned the room. “I don’t see anyone else.”

  Jasper rose to her knees, coughing and rubbing her head.

  “What is going on?” She blinked and rubbed her eyes. “Where am I?”

  Jaen sneered and flicked a mystic spark at Jasper. The golden sparkles showered the young woman, drawing a long yawn and stretch of her arms. She collapsed on the floor.

  Melegal’s fingertips tingled. Power came too easily from this woman.

  “Let’s get back on course,” Jaen said. “Shall we?”

  Melegal nodded.

  What other course do I have?

  “Melegal, we want you to keep an eye on things. Most that we’ve dealt with cannot handle exposure to the underlings.”

  Well there is a reason for that! I can only assume they like the thought of having their throats intact.

  “We need someone who can watch, observe, deal, and report back to us,” she said. “The underlings have much to offer from their underworld. We can learn more about them this way. Understand their nature and their ways. And when the time comes, we will, if need be, put them away.”

  “More likely, they will put you away.”

  She cocked her head.

  “I don’t take your meaning.”

  “I think the world is fully aware what a menace they are. They run roughshod through the south. Now they’ve penetrated here, and you are trying to build some sort of nurturing relationship with them.”

  “We need to understand our enemies if we hope to defeat them,” she said.

  Madness! No one in their right mind would ever want to get within ten feet of an underling if they could help it. Underlings hated all the races. The race of men took dire exception to them. It had always been that way, but now that had changed.

  “So you are going to do business with them below, even though they are sending your soldiers home dead, mutilated, humiliated? Have you not seen what they do? I thought you had eyes and ears everywhere?”

  “Blood is often spilled before there is peace.”

  Melegal shot up off the sofa.

  “Peace!” His voice rang in the chamber, surprising him.

  Jaen’s grey eyes grew wide. She raised her hands.

  “Mind yourself, Rogue.”

  What am I, Venir? Settle down, Melegal. This is not your polished way.

  Perhaps not, but the underlings were a problem. A vermin. An infestation. Over the past several months, he’d given serious thought about what Venir said. The warrior wasn’t the cause of their problems. The underlings were. Always pressing. Striking. Killing. Not to mention the meddlesome royals.

  “Sorry,” he said, straightening his clothes. “But I want no part of this.”

  “It pays well. Offers security and safety,” Jaen said, coming closer, her voice more soothing. “You will help us spy on them. You don’t need to concern yourself with anything other than that.” She touched his shoulder and rubbed it. “We need a man with your resolve. Someone strong that can handle it. Deal. Observe. Report. We offer much protection.”

  Her eyes and voice drew him in. His stick body softened. He wanted to help her. See more of her. He wanted to know who we was. After all, the tower could hold an awful lot of people. Maybe I should play along. Slip out of sight later.

  But he backed away and said, “No.”

  “Don’t you want your precious pony back?”

  “Yes, but not at that price. I might be sordid, but I have some dignity. That’s more than I can say for you and the rest of your ilk.”

  “What?” she said, unable to contain her dismay.

  “I’ve done plenty of bad things. I’ve stolen, lied and murdered. But at befriending underlings, I draw the line.”

  “You are a fool,” Jaen said.

  “Not nearly as foolish as you. I know enough about underlings to say with certainty that if you practice this strategy,” he said, pointing at her chest, “then you’re going to die.”

  “Get out!”

  Melegal looked around and said, “It shames me to say so, but I don’t know how.”

  She whirled on him. The entire room shook. A blast of air cut through the room, lifting him from his feet and hurling him out the window. He saw Jasper right above him and turned to look down. The street rushed up to greet hi
m. His whole life flashed before his eyes.

  Nooooooooooooooo!

  CHAPTER 29

  Venir glided down to the water level, head and shoulders low. He eased his way onto one of the docks and waited behind some crates.

  Helm pulsed on his head, urging him forward, onward.

  He kept his rising temper in check. Listened.

  He could hear the men and underlings chatting back and forth with one another. The tongues of the underlings spoke perfectly in the common tongue. Undiscernible from an ordinary man. But under their own breath, the underlings spoke back and forth to one another, the Underling words harsh. Mocking. Dangerous. Helm deciphered it all. Their wicked voices were clear in his mind.

  Foolish humans.

  Doomed sluggards.

  We take their women, their children, for booze and baubles.

  These men will be the first to die when we strike.

  Soon every city in Bish will be ours.

  They laughed under their breaths, watching the rogues throw their backs into moving merchandise along the planks.

  Men are fools. We are wise as serpents. They win the war for us.

  Venir crept closer. He eyed the barge. Women and children quivered. A bloody lash in the hand of a brutish thug kept them silent. The underlings continued to gloat from the planks on the deck.

  I must stop this.

  His sweating fingers squeezed Brool’s handle, making a squeaking sound. His breath became heavy. He needed to get the drop on the underlings. Make it quick. The rogues, he could handle later. He left his shield. Slipped into the water. And under the dock he went. Soft sand squished under his boots. The gentle tide ripped over his jaw. He kept going until he stood beneath the underlings, watching their feet rustle over the planks.

  Let’s give ‘subtle but deadly’ a chance.

  With Brool’s axe tip, he pecked away at the blankets under the underlings’ feet.

  Peck. Peck. Peck … Peck. Peck. Peck …

  The underlings peered down at the cracks, saying, “What is it?” Not a single wicked expression showed worry. Concern was drowned by confidence. They resumed their positions and renewed talk among themselves.

  Perfect.

  He tapped away some more.

  Peck. Peck. Peck … Peck. Peck. Peck …

  The underlings stopped their chatter. One drew a blade and bent over, gazing into the cracks. It slid its blade between the gaps.

  Venir eased out of the way. Readied his axe.

  Peck. Peck. Peck…Peck. Peck. Peck…

  “Kill that bird,” one of the underlings joked. “It will be good practice until we slaughter these dopes.”

  The underling scraped its short blade along the seams.

  Venir could see the dark blue gemstone eyes. He rammed Brool’s tip between the planks.

  Glitch!

  He punctured its grey matter through the eye socket.

  Venir’s iron-thewed arms pumped with fury. Brool’s spike lanced through the planks and into underling feet like a hot knife through butter.

  Jab! Jab! Jab! Jab! Jab!

  The underlings howled and screamed, their shrieks filled with terror.

  Venir glided back through the waters, watching their black blood drip through the planks.

  A clamor on the dock arose, and swords beat at the water. Venir pulled himself up on the edge of the dock where he’d started, hidden from the fervor. He picked up his shield and spied from behind the crate. Underlings sprawled out over the planks, holding their feet. Two didn’t move. They just bled.

  Suddenly, the situation took a turn. The underlings helped their fallen away from the busted blanks, farther up the dock toward the shore. They argued with the rogues.

  “You betray us!” an underling said, sliding out a pair of steels. “Are you so foolish?”

  A tough came forward. A roughhewn man wearing only a jerkin and breeches. He pointed back and said, “We don’t swim in these foul waters. That could have been anything. Don’t blame your misfortune on us.”

  The other roughneck, the one guarding the women and children with a lash, came forward. He had a nervous look as he passed through the underlings. As he passed their speaker, the stroke of death came quick. The underling disemboweled the man.

  “That’s one. We’ve two dead,” the underling said to the rogue foreman. “We’ll have two more of your kind to make it even.”

  The gawping man’s voice trembled with anger. He ripped out his sword. All his men followed.

  “Come and get us yourself, Red-Eye!”

  In an instant, a skirmish broke out.

  Helm urged him into the battle.

  He had something else in mind.

  Let all those murdering kidnappers kill each other.

  Back into the dark waters he went, wading toward the barge that held the women and children. Their eyes were glued on the battle. Venir tapped the shoulder of one that huddled in the back. She squeaked when she saw him. He stayed her with his hand.

  “I’m here to help,” he said.

  Her fragile features blinked repeatedly. She was young. They all were.

  “You see those stairs?” Venir said, pointing to the catwalks and stairs where he had entered.

  She nodded.

  “Then follow me if you don’t want to wind up in the Underland. Tell them to stay still while we cross the water. I’ll do the rest.”

  He unhitched the barge and slowly led it backward through the waters. The clamor of battle was a full fervor, but the crates and barrels blocked his vision. He eased the barge on the sandy shore at the end of the docks and helped the women and children out.

  “No sudden moves,” he growled. “Do you hear me? Slow, low and easy. Don’t even look their way.”

  Most nodded. Others couldn’t hide their horrified looks, but like most on Bish, they were survivors. They’d fight for one breath more.

  Forward he went, with the flock of fugitives right on his heels. The stairs going upward were near. He glanced at the battle on the docks. The men were sliced open like fruit. An underling was buried under the weight of a flurry of knives. Venir wanted nothing more than to jump right in, even if it meant aiding the despicable men. But the battle was almost over, and once it ended, the underlings would notice the barge had moved.

  “Get up there,” he told the fugitives, shoving them up the stairs. “Move quickly now for the door, and don’t look back.”

  The throng of women jammed the stairs. One busted her knee and cried out.

  Several underlings turned with blood dripping from their blades.

  “Get them!” an underling chittered.

  Venir twisted his neck over his shoulder and said, “Run!” He turned back, gritted his teeth, and advanced on the underlings.

  There were six underlings left. The closer they came, the slower they moved, until the dark figures hemmed him in. They gawked at him. Heads cocking. A murmuring chitter started among them.

  Venir rose to his full height. A great man of burnishing metal. His bloodlust started to boil over. But one word they said still registered.

  “The Darkslayer.”

  He cut Brool through the air. A whistle of death followed. The sound the underlings referred to as the ‘last call.’”

  “Which one of you vermin wants the honor of dying first?” Venir sneered.

  They chortled and pounced.

  Venir’s mighty arms swung a black arc of lightning, sheering through the guts and bones of the first underling.

  Bang!

  Blades ricocheted off his shield.

  He spun, left and right, hammering away.

  Chop!

  Clavicles and black chain mail merged with a bloody howl.

  Churk!

  Brool’s tip lanced an underling’s throat.

  Venir could sense their movements, even without Helm. One ran for the caves. Another sprinted around him, chasing after the screaming women.

  “Bone!”

  He bashed t
he closest underling with his shield, knocking it off the stairs. Then he whipped around and hurled Brool like a spear. Straight and true it went, into the chasing underling’s hip. It toppled back down the stairs.

  Slit!

  “Argh!”

  An underling cut through his boot and into the back of his heel. He toppled off the stairs with a crash.

  The ruby-eyed underling screeched and hurled its body on top of his. It clawed at his neck. Jabbed a blade at his ribs.

  Venir swatted it in the jaw with the back of his fist and rolled on top of it. He wrenched its blade from its hand and pinned it down by the neck. His iron grip clamped down on the creature’s throat and squeezed.

  Its eyes bulged out like red lanterns. Its black tongue juttered.

  Venir put all his weight on it.

  Crack!

  It was done. Heaving for breath, he forced himself up to his feet. Looking down at his blood-soaked boot, he grimaced. He scanned the shoreline and docks. Nothing moved. The rogues were dead, lying in heaps of butchered flesh. He could still feel the underlings’ presence though, but he couldn’t see a one of them. Limping, he shuffled toward the stairs, reaching down to pick up Brool. The gory weapon had a bloody glimmer.

  “Well done,” he said to it. Above, there was no sign of the women or children. Nothing moved faster than fear and desperation. Even in the feeblest kind. He slung his shield over his hulking shoulders and hopped up the stairs one by one, his bloody boot heel staining every step he took. The door to freedom looked a mile away at the rate he was going.

  “Move or die.”

  He made it up to the catwalks and lumbered forward.

  A blood-curdling clamor rose. A thunderous bellow from the mouth of a monster.

  Venir peered into the caves beyond the rippling waters. A hulk of humanoid flesh came swiftly through the water like an angry child. Its blubbery arms were long and rangy. Its head that of an ugly mannish beast. A row of hard knots went down its back and shoulders. It was a full twenty feet of troll. Its oversized fists busted the docks to splinters. Under a skull as thick as stone, its beady eyes locked on Venir’s. It let out another blaring below and renewed its charge.