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

by Craig Halloran

  “A formality,” Palzor said, turning the pages of a heavy book. “My, I marvel at how you magi read these things. Of course, I can read some of it.”

  “That’s my book!”

  “Indeed.” Palzor licked his thumb and turned another page. “Remarkable reading, but it does give me a headache. Hmmm … this is interesting, a lightning shower. Most impressive.”

  Blast! I should have left it with Boon after all!

  Palzor closed the book and leaned forward on his table. “I’m sure you’ll cooperate in order to get your spellbook back. I call it insurance.” He pointed his fist at him and closed one eye.

  Twing!

  Fogle jerked away and hit the floor. A dart imbedded itself in the wall.

  “Now that is something more to my liking. A nice touch for a rogue, eh, Melegal?”

  Melegal didn’t respond.

  “Now,” Palzor continued, “you can have your spellbook back, but I’m very fond of these, so I’ll be keeping them. But if you find your friend, then I’ll reward you with your lives, and the lives of your friends at the Magi Roost. After all, they are also in danger.”

  Kam! “That’s a cowardly way to operate.”

  “I’m no coward. It takes courage to get where I am. And money.”

  “Your definition of courage and mine I’m certain are quite different.”

  “It’s about money. I make money. That’s what I do. Who cares were it comes from.”

  “Dealing with the underlings is madness!”

  “It’s business.”

  “It’s suicide.”

  “For you, maybe.”

  Fogle groaned. Idiot! “So, we are to fetch around in the dark.” He held his gauntleted hands up. “And if I come across any danger, then I guess I’ll just slug it out?”

  “That does paint quite a picture.”

  “I can’t go down there without any spells and expect to find him. And I know nothing of the world below this city. Is this really your plan? It’s not very well thought out.”

  “Oh, I assure you, there is plenty of thought behind this, and it’s time you were made privy to it. You will accompany my two associates below. They are quite familiar with the dark.”

  Fogle could smell underling all over them. He’d become more than familiar with their faint but unique stench in the Outland.

  When they unveiled their faces, their black-nailed hands covered with thin grey hairs confirmed it. Two underlings with citrine eyes glared at him with malicious intent.

  “I never could have imagined such a day,” Fogle said. He glanced at Melegal. The thief was stone faced and quiet. “But at least I know what to expect from them.”

  “And what might that be?” Palzor said.

  “Death.”

  “Well, I’m assuming your formidable skills will avoid it, and you’ll return right back to me with your troublesome friend.”

  “What makes you think that we can draw him out?”

  The underlings slid over and dropped two hoods over them as he heard Palzor say, “Because you’re good bait for him.”

  ***

  “Oh, look who’s up,” Jaen said.

  Kam peeled her face up off the table and started rubbing her head. She searched out Jaen’s voice. Her half sister stood behind the bar, and her tavern was filled with a dozen heavily armed soldiers.

  “Can I have an explanation for this?”

  “Certainly. Palzor took your friends out to run an errand. I’m to keep watch on you in the meantime.” She huffed. “A belittling thing, but it was Father’s orders. I think he hopes we can mend things.”

  “Am I some sort of ransom?”

  “You are being held for ransom,” Jaen said, aloof. “That’s how it always works, doesn’t it? Hmmm … Handsome and ransom. I like those words.”

  “You are a whore, the same as your mother.”

  “Which makes our father a whoremonger,” Jaen said. “What of it? Aren’t you a little too old to be worried about the liaisons of men? I’m sure your little brat’s father has had plenty, being a strapping warrior and all.”

  “How long is this game going to be played, Jaen?” Kam straightened in her chair. “Hmmm? You being Father’s loyal little daughter. Will you never learn?”

  “And give up all I have for this harrowing life?” Jaen said, gesturing with her arms. “You must be joking. It is you who are playing games, by pretending to be a commoner.”

  “I have a purpose.”

  “You have nothing,” Jaen said. “Just a quaint tavern. And what has it gotten you? A missing hand. A bastard child.”

  Kam shot up out of her seat and stormed toward the bar.

  A soldier stepped in front of her.

  “Get out of my—”

  Smack!

  The soldier backhanded her across the face and sent her into a table.

  Stunned, Kam shook her head and started to rise again. Her green eyes flashed. “You dare!”

  “Careful, Kam. These men have very fond eyes for you.” Jaen took a bite of an apple. “I’m sure they’d be more than willing to put you in your place. Or on your back might be a better phrase.”

  “You are foul, Jaen!”

  “Not as foul as men,” she said, taking another bite. “Hmmm … I wonder what that Fogle is like. Have you bedded him?” She searched Kam’s eyes. “No? Good. If he lives, I just might have to venture that. But, I don’t think he’ll be coming back.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your friends, well, they are trouble. All of them. I’m pretty sure Palzor is going to get them all killed, one way or another.”

  “Is that so? Why do all of this, then? Why the show?”

  “Need you really ask?”

  Kam felt her knees become weak, and a sickness returned to her stomach. “Royal Games,” she said, dipping her head into her chest. “I should have known.” She lifted her chin and said, “All in the midst of the underling chaos?”

  “It makes the game so much more exciting.”

  Kam’s face turned into an angry sneer. “You’ll pay for this!”

  Jaen nodded to the soldier.

  Smack!

  Kam toppled over the table, cracked her knees on the floor, and moaned.

  “I didn’t realize how much I hated you until I saw you again,” Jaen said. “I didn’t want to come. I really didn’t. But then I thought, ‘Why not? It might be fun.’ Turns out it is.”

  On her knees, Kam found herself surrounded by three soldiers leering down at her. She covered herself the best she could and rose back to her feet. She found Jaen’s eyes between the men’s broad shoulders.

  “You need to let this go,” Kam said. She could feel her face swelling. “Some lines, you cannot cross back over again.”

  Jaen smiled. “I made that choice the moment I arrived here.” She nodded to the soldiers. “Take her!”

  CHAPTER 16

  Lefty ran for his life. Underlings, five in all, were after him.

  Too-wah! Too-wah!

  Darts streaked by his head.

  This is madness!

  He splashed through murky water and wove through the overhanging branches of trees. He glanced over his shoulder.

  Oh no!

  The underlings were only a dozen yards behind him. Their dark bodies, corded in lean muscle, sent a chill through him. Their edged blades made him gulp. His weary legs pumped harder, taking him to the point of exhaustion. His Lightfoot speed was going, diminishing before the fresh legs that pursued him.

  He dashed by a large willow tree out of the underlings’ line of sight and dove into a thicket, where he curled up into a ball.

  The underlings dashed underneath the tree and came to a stop. There were four of them on foot plus one rider on the back of a sand spider. Lefty could see their gemstone eyes narrowing in the mist.

  Please don’t see me! Please don’t see me!

  The underlings chittered back and forth, fanning out. The rider came right toward him. T
he spider’s tentacled feet probed the water.

  I’m in for.

  It came closer. Closer.

  Lefty squeezed his eyes shut.

  The leafy branches of the willow tree shook, and all the underlings looked up.

  “Huzzah!”

  Pall dropped from the branches, crushing the underling on the spider beneath his feet. His fat blades came down hard into underling and spider meat.

  Hack! Hack! Hack!

  The remaining four underlings converged, striking hard and fast.

  Pall batted their dark steel away with power and speed that belied his girth and age.

  Slice!

  He caught one in the neck, sending blood flying. He slipped under the blade of another and rammed his machete through its gut. One underling jumped on his neck and started stabbing with fury. Pall slung it off into the other and pounced on the both of them.

  “Vermin! I’ll teach you!”

  Flesh and bone ripped and cracked. Blood flew through the air. The underlings tore at Pall like rabid dogs. They dragged him into the muddy sod, claws and teeth biting and tearing at his flesh.

  Lefty stirred in the brush. Do something!

  Muddy and bloody, Pall emerged from the muck and fog with his hands locked behind the underlings’ necks.

  “I’ll teach ya!”

  He slammed their faces together.

  Clock!

  He drove their faces into the water and mud.

  Their arms flailed. Their legs kicked.

  Pall’s big, bearded face turned around. “Get out of that thicket, boy!”

  Lefty crawled out of his patch, watching the twitching of the underlings subside and then stop.

  Pall, grizzly and gory, pulled the underlings up and shook them. “Got to make sure they’re dead. They play possum sometimes.”

  Lefty held his hand over his pounding heart and nodded.

  “Ye did well, drawing them out like that.”

  Something seized Lefty’s leg.

  The underling on the spider locked his clawed fingers onto Lefty’s ankle.

  “Aggghhh!” Lefty cried.

  “Use yer axe, boy!”

  Lefty snatched it out of his belt and chopped at the underling’s arm.

  It wouldn’t let go.

  “The head, boy! The head!”

  Lefty sank the axe into the back of the underling’s skull.

  Its fingers peeled away from his ankle.

  Lefty skittered away.

  “That’s more like it,” Pall said. He had dropped the underlings and now began stuffing tobacco into a pipe. “I like a smoke after a battle.” He winked at Lefty. “I think you’re due for one as well.”

  Shaking, Lefty glanced at the carnage. Pall’s efforts were devastating.

  “You’re bleeding pretty badly,” Lefty said, gazing at a gaping wound in Pall’s shoulder.

  “That?” Pall said, eyeing it. “Har. It’s hardly grave.” He rubbed his fingers together over the tobacco in the pipe, and the leaves turned to flame. He began puffing. “Ah, that’s better. I haven’t had a good puff in days.” He extended his hand. “Try it.”

  Lefty recognized the aroma immediately. It was the same as Mood’s cigar, and it began to ease his thoughts. “I’d better not, unless you want to carry me.”

  “Har. That won’t be a problem. You did good, boy.”

  “Lefty.”

  “You did good, boy Lefty.”

  “No, just—”

  Pall started walking away.

  “Where are you going now?”

  “To get them wart-noses. Har.”

  “But …” Lefty’s shoulders sagged. Perhaps I should take his pipe and smoke it.

  CHAPTER 17

  Venir had his shield but no armor. His hand-and-a-half axe throbbed in his hand. His blue veins pulsed with fire.

  Helm urged him into battle. Kill them! Kill them all!

  Venir could feel the underlings’ vile thoughts, too. Vile. Hate filled. Cruel. There was nothing he wanted more than to destroy them, tear them limb from limb. But he needed control. He needed a plan.

  Kill them! Kill them all! Helm beckoned again.

  “I will,” Venir said, under his breath, fighting the urge, “but not just yet.”

  Venir slunk down into the water until he could no longer hear the dogs barking. From there, he waded forward out of the tunnel, eyelets cresting above the dark water. Ahead, underlings and men in a small craft dug long fishhooks into the water. Others scoured the dark beaches.

  Where did so many come from?

  Only the Royals would stoop so low. After all, this was exactly what they had done in Bone. They did the unthinkable: dickered with underlings. So why was he so surprised? He could warn them of the underlings’ plans, but would they listen to him?

  Deeper he went into the shallow river that formed small lakes. He carried on, careful of the lanterns and torches illuminating the gloom with soft, wavering light.

  His heart raced. His nostrils flared.

  Kill them!

  “I see something!” one man pointed Venir’s way. “Over there!”

  Venir sank into the water and scraped along the bottom on his belly, away from the light and the craft that were coming. Long and hooked sticks jabbed into the water, just missing his feet. He swam underneath one craft and waited. All he could see was the faint light shimmering above, and all he could hear were the sticks jabbing into the water. But he was drawing a crowd.

  His lungs began to burn.

  Aw, piss on this!

  He braced his back on the river bottom, gathered his legs over him with his feet against the craft, and heaved upward.

  Men and underlings screamed in surprise. The craft toppled over, and Venir emerged.

  “There he is!” one man cried.

  A chorus of chitters arose.

  Venir’s muscle-laden arms were already swinging.

  He gored an underling with Brool’s tip, picked it up out of the water, and slung it into another rogue-filled craft.

  Hack!

  Blood sprayed from one man’s busted chest.

  Slice!

  An underling’s head popped from its shoulders.

  “Son of a Bish! What is that beast?”

  Shield strapped to his back, Venir swung hard and fast, each cut filled with fury.

  Hack! Chop! Slice!

  He gored. He speared. He decimated.

  “I’m getting the slat out of here!” one man yelled, paddling away.

  Clatch-zip! Clatch-zip! Clatch-zip!

  A barrage of underling bolts feathered the fleeing man’s back.

  Venir chopped through man and through craft. His movement was not slowed by the water, but his enemies’ was. He swung Brool into one man’s shoulder, severing his arm. He gouged a sapphire eye from an underling’s face.

  Brool was an arc of death. Everything coming inside its radius died.

  Clatch-zip! Clatch-zip!

  The underlings on shore fired another volley.

  Venir jerked up Brool’s broad blade, ricocheting the bolts away.

  Roaring, he headed straight for them. “RAWR!” His boots sloshed up onto the shore just as two underlings cut into his path and stabbed at his gut. Venir twisted left, spun a half circle, and turned one underling’s back into a pool of blood.

  The second underling slashed.

  Venir turned, caught the blow on his shield, whipped back around, and skewered its chest.

  Crunch!

  Towering over underling and man alike, Venir hewed them down in lightning-fast strokes.

  Nine!

  Chop!

  Ten!

  Hack!

  Eleven!

  Rip!

  Slice!

  He missed. His battle-enraged mind settled. No one was there. Underlings stood back with their weapons brandished, wary. Men paddled away on their boats, crying out and muttering.

  “Let the fiends have at him.”

  “I
didn’t sign up for this.”

  “My brother’s dead. His face is caved in. Blecht!”

  Helm pulsated on Venir’s head.

  He could hear and feel the terror in the atmosphere he created. He liked it. Broad chest heaving and lathered in blood and sweat, Venir bellowed out, “Come on, you cowardly dogs!” He shook his axe. “Come! Fight!”

  The underlings, gemstone eyes glittering, remained still.

  Venir took a full stride forward. “Then I’ll bring my axe to you!” He took another step and stopped. A ferocious howl rose from behind him in the cave tunnels. He twisted his metal-laden head around.

  Albino urchlings and huge, mangy dogs poured, shrieking and barking, from those tunnels.

  The frenzied horde would overwhelm him in seconds. He dug his boots into the dirt and faced the enemy.

  “Son of a Bish!”

  CHAPTER 18

  Melegal had weakened his bonds by sawing at them with his diamond-dust-covered fingernails.

  Wait for it.

  As soon as the underling dropped the sack over his head, he twisted his bony wrists from his bonds and struck. His hand latched onto the underling’s wrist, and he summoned a charge of power from his ring.

  Zap!

  The underling stiffened and fell limp.

  Sensing the other underling coming for him, Melegal dove on its ankles and squeezed.

  Zap!

  The underling twitched and fell.

  “Seize him,” Palzor cried out to his guards. “Kill that bony wretch!”

  Palzor’s voice was all Melegal needed. His mind underneath his grey cap glimmered. His thoughts became sharp razors. Freeze!

  The two guards came at him, booted feet scrambling over the planks.

  Melegal jerked his hood from his face and slung his elbow into one of the guards.

  The next brute slammed into him, crashing him to the floor.

  Melegal clutched the man’s throat.

  Zap!

  In a clamor, the big man twitched and collapsed.

  Melegal twisted out from underneath the man just as the other guard’s sword ripped from its sheath.

  “Be still, you, else I cleave you in two!”

  Melegal lifted his shoulders and said, “That will never happen.”

  The guard lunged with a well-placed jab straight for Melegal’s heart.