“He’s got two heads!” she cried. “Whose dog is it? Where did he come from? Tell me! Give it to me now, boy!”
The bratty little girl was causing a commotion, and Lefty looked around. He saw another Royal walk up to check out the situation. It was a young lady, maybe twenty, wearing the typical riding garb of the other women with lighter tones.
She knelt down, palm exposed, and Chongo sniffed her in part. Her voice was soft when she asked, “Whose dog is this, child?”
He began mumbling and shuffling so that they could not understand him.
“This boy is an idiot. He cannot speak,” the little girl said. “I want that dog now. Find its owner and buy him.”
“Oh, shut up, Elizabeth,” the young lady said. “You would just neglect it like you do everything else. Now go find our mother and I will wait for you here. And then we shall find the owner. Perhaps there is a litter.”
The little girl stuck her tongue out at her sister, but did as she was told and ran off screaming to find her mother. The young lady then petted the dog, much to Lefty’s liking. Whoever the lady was, she smelled good, he thought. She was observant as well.
“It seems we have more than just a two-headed puppy, here.”
And with that she tilted Lefty’s chin up with her painted fingers. She gasped as she held his tiny head in her hand by his cheek, his eyes widening at the sight of her warm beautiful face.
“What is your name, halfling?” she whispered.
“Lefty,” he said, then regretted it, but he couldn’t resist her.
“Lefty, I am Rayal. I don’t know what you are doing here or whose dog this is, but you better take it home quickly before my sister gets back. She always gets what she wants. She’s an evil little brat, and I like seeing her denied. So go.”
“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you, Rayal! I will do anything for you one day. You are beautiful like a rainbow. Thank you!”
He smiled at her one more time, leaving her blushing as he disappeared.
*****
Rayal had not seen much outside of the City of Bone, but she did know a lot about the different races. She wasn’t sure why she’d let the halfling go, but it was in her nature to protect those when they needed it. Whatever was going on with the halfling and dog was more much more important than the chronic whims of the Royals.
Elizabeth soon reappeared.
“Where did they go? I couldn’t find Mother. Where are they, Rayal?” Elizabeth yelled.
“I am sorry, little sister, but the owner caught up with them. He took the dog. I asked if there was a litter and he said no. Then he took the boy away for a beating because he is the one that let his dog loose in the first place.”
Elizabeth looked satisfied with the answer even though Rayal could tell she was miffed.
“Well, I am not happy. But at least that little boy is getting a beating. If he lost my dog, I would flay him alive.”
“I am sure you would.”
Whack!
Elizabeth kicked her older sister Rayal hard in the shin.
“I think you are a liar!” Elizabeth shouted.
Then Elizabeth ran off before Rayal could catch her—to choke her to death. Curiosity consumed Rayal, though, and she followed Lefty out of the barn. He and the dog had caught her fancy.
CHAPTER 30
Venir smashed a table. Then a chair.
He had snapped at the sight of Georgio’s fingers lying on the tavern table. Rage and guilt rose as he trembled while the thief recounted his encounter with Tonio and McKnight. Venir bellowed so loud that the walls shook. And Melegal was not the only one that cringed. Two of the Motley Girls—Sis and Haze—stood back for fear of their own lives, Venir having arrived just as Frigdah ran off. The rest of the tavern remained clear. No one wanted to rile the big man.
The past day had been bad enough. Venir had been looking forward to returning home for a drink and a bath despite his problems. Instead he ran into an ugly woman in the tavern doorway and then his friend with even uglier news. One problem had now become three.
Looking at Melegal’s sagging shoulders deflated Venir’s confidence even more for resolving their dilemma. He didn’t bother explaining where he had been or why he looked like he just crawled out of a bloody hole; he just wanted to get to the bottom on this. He forced himself to take a deep breath and exhaled. It didn’t help.
“How long has it been since Tonio departed?” he asked.
“Maybe an hour, if that?” Melegal said.
“Any ideas?’
“No,” Melegal replied, chin down.
Venir sat down, shaking his head, feeling exhausted. Never in all of his life, he thought, would he have ever imagined being in the center of so many torrid predicaments. It was one thing to fight and hunt enemies all across the Outlands. It was quite another not being able to find or fight them at all.
Anguish raised in his chest as he stared at the fingers lying on the table. His young friend had been tormented on account of him. The blood of another friend, Luke, was fresh on his mind: another senseless death because of him.
Emptiness overcame him and his reddened skin began to regain its tanned color. Life seemed to drain from him. All of this happened on account of one barroom scuffle, it seemed. But there was more to it than that. He was a pawn, a Royal pawn, he’d found out. For most of his life, he had seen how the Royals, good and bad, played such games with men. Up to this point, he had been able to avoid them but now there was nothing he could do. He felt useless.
Venir stared at his comrade and knew that Melegal was feeling the same thing: doubt. Venir reached for a wine bottle; he was starving and thirsty. He guzzled it down.
“Tomorrow at dusk, huh?” he said. “The Almen gate? I will be there.”
Melegal said nothing for several seconds, then he looked at Venir.
“A lot can happen over the next day, Vee. We have to try and find the boy first. I can’t imagine they would kill him, seeing how special he is.”
Sis stepped up. “Do you fellas still want us to help?” she asked, her voice cracking.
Venir looked at her then over to Melegal, who nodded.
“Okay, girls,” Venir said.
They both grinned like goblins, seemingly overjoyed for some strange reason. Venir didn’t think they’d listen anyway. But the way they looked at him and Melegal told him they were sticking around one way or another.
Octopus the cat jumped out of nowhere and onto the table. It was an odd moment as the massive cat began sniffing the fingers as if they were laced with catnip.
“Melegal, get that cat away,” Venir said.
The black cat puffed up and rumbled when the thief tried to take the fingers away. Octopus’s white eyes widened as if the fingers were a feast of fish or tuna. The cat snatched a finger in his mouth, then jumped off of the table and bounded out the door. Venir slammed his fist on the table, but Haze cleared her throat.
“If the cat likes that finger, it might be that he’ll lead us to the boy,” Haze said. “We’ll follow him. And don’t worry, we won’t lose him; we see him all the time. Plus I know cats. ”
“Go then!” Melegal said. “Go before you lose him. Check back here in a few hours and let me know if you have any luck with that cat or anything else.”
Haze tossed Venir his knife, then the women ran out the door. The men stayed put for a moment as they gathered their thoughts for the next course of action.
“Let’s head up to the room, Me,” Venir said. “I’ll get cleaned up and fill you in on where I have been the past day. Maybe Lefty will show up by then. Anything can happen the way this day has been.”
“You can say that again.”
Once upstairs, the room felt dead without the presence of Georgio’s busy lips and the comforting scent of Lefty’s hot coffee. Instead a cold coal stove awaited Venir with nothing fresh to warm his darkening mood.
He stood within the room watching Melegal pace. One of the two boys was almost always in t
he room, and in the way somehow, but not today. The leather tomes, parchment, ink, and quills were stacked snug in one corner of the room. Venir almost lit the stove, but didn’t. He shuffled around as if he was hoping to find a shred of evidence where they could be. In frustration, Venir washed up a bit then sat down on his cot.
“So,” Melegal finally said, “where have you been, big guy?”
“Well, you aren’t going to believe this, but here goes. And be ready, because you aren’t going to like it.”
The thief frowned, slung his hat on the table, and sat down. “Just get on with it.”
The room began to brighten a bit as Venir got caught up in being able to tell another story. Then he remembered the halfling was not there to record it, and he toned his voice down a bit.
“Here is the short version, Melegal. I left the tavern to find Dresla. When I was cutting through Death Hall, I was jumped by a whole gang of man-urchins. I was dropping them like hot coals when they feathered me with juiced darts. Now this is the part you will hate. I—”
“You woke up in the Slerg dungeon.”
Venir’s eyes widened in surprise, but when he remembered that the Motley Girls had his knife, it came together and he got back on track.
“Yes, I woke up in a stockade, then got knocked out trying to escape, and then I woke up in the manbox.”
He saw his friend’s face scrunch in concern, pushing himself back in his chair.
“The next thing I know,” Venir said, “I am talking to Leezir the Slerg. You remember him, of course?”
Venir paused as he began working himself up with the tale again. Melegal motioned with his hand for Venir to continue.
“So Leezir tells me the whole story of how he and the Slergs used me as a pawn to take out that brat of a Royal, Tonio.” He motioned a chop with his hands. “I didn’t tell them I chopped his arms off and split him in half, so I guess they don’t know he is still alive—although with Tonio and McKnight skulking around, they’ll know before too long. Anyhow, they’re trying to take down the Almens and want my help. He also told me that the Almens are on to me, with bounty, because they can’t find Tonio, and they are about to come after me so I need to be ready.”
The thief buried his head in his arms on the table.
“Leezir offered me ten bags of gold and one bag of rubies,” Venir said.
Melegal’s head came up, eyes bright, chin raised.
Venir raised his hands. “Like that will happen. “
The thief shrugged.
Venir became more animated as he chewed on some stale bread and spicy jerky.
“Then those idiots Hagerdon and Creighton showed up and wanted a tussle, but I scared them. You should have seen their faces when they turned to confront me. They looked like frightened children. Turns out they want me to help them kill more Almens.” He stood up and sauntered around the apartment. “The Slergs seemed different. Leezir was very easygoing, and he and I bartered for my release. At this point, I’m ready to try and kill them all like underlings. Whoo. What a mess,” he said as he ran his hands through his blond locks.
It was indeed a mess. Venir felt guilty for enjoying his tale. But it was what it was. Flee or fight was his option, and he wouldn’t flee without the boys and dog. There was a time when he might have, but those times were long past. The hard man had grown a soft spot—and in this case, it might prove fatal. Venir grabbed his backpack that contained the large leather sack while the thief grabbed a few other items of some use.
“Here’s the deal,” Venir said. “You take the back way out and I’ll head out the front door. Let’s try and meet at the other place within a few more hours. If I’m not there, that means they got me.” He tied his knife scabbard along his thick thigh. “I don’t know what McKnight and Tonio have in mind, but they need us for some reason. Some sick matter of honor is my guess. If the Almens get me first, be sure to let them know. ” He grabbed his friend’s shoulder. “Find my boys, Me.”
“I will.”
His face darkened into a nasty grin as he said, “Don’t be surprised to find out that me and Brool try to take them all down, either.” He slammed the knife in his sheath and left.
CHAPTER 31
Lefty was hurrying through the barn where he’d left the dwarf. He was trotting with the dog in his arms when it lurched. Chongo was beginning to grow. Oh no! He ran as fast as he could in a panic, only twenty-five yards from the stall where Mood would be waiting for him. Lefty was terrified that he would be seen and captured. The dog was now bigger than him. He strained with all his might, but it was impossible, and he collapsed to the ground.
“Ooof! Geez, Chongo, get out of here. Find Mood,” he said, breathless.
The big dog was off and running to the stable. Lefty looked around to see if anyone had caught sight of them but saw no one. The run-down barn was barren of people. He got up, dusted himself off, and headed for the stall, almost skipping.
I did it! Melegal will be amazed when he hears this.
He entered through the open stable gateway then closed and secured it behind him. The secret passageway lay open before him, and Mood, Chongo, and Quickster were nowhere to be seen. But Lefty couldn’t just leave though. He had to stay. I’ve got to find Georgio.
He closed the secret passageway. It was his choice, and he knew the pony and dog were in good hands now. They were safe. Lefty decided to head back to report to the thief. His sweaty feet were soon moving again over the cobblestones inside the City of Bone.
In all of his excitement, the he failed to notice that someone else wasn’t far behind him.
CHAPTER 32
Months had passed since Jarla the former Brigand Queen had set out on a mission of self redemption: the pursuit of her former lover and now archenemy Venir. She had headed north from Outlaws Hide, careful of her identity and inquiries. The trek proved difficult. She had grown soft over the years from living in pointless revelry.
She was a far cry from the strong soldier she once was. Her shambled armor once shone bright in the suns. Now all of her clothing was in tatters. People paid her little mind when she passed. Queen? Hah. She could hear them laughing though they knew her not.
Still, people kept clear of her glare. Her terse questions carried authority and it made the weaker more willing to comply. The once wicked but beautiful queen walked with a degree of humility. Those that chose to cross her with force fell at their peril.
Regaining her gallant warhorse Nightmare was her first objective. Like a fool, she had lost her steed, her most trusted friend all of her years, in a night of games and unwanted pleasure. She was ashamed, almost embarrassed. If anyone on Bish cared for her, it was Nightmare. She had to get her back. She hoped her steed would forgive her.
The dapple gray steed was a commodity and companion that she parted with at the lowest point in her life. If she were to live another day, it would have the purpose of nothing more than saying she was sorry to the horse. She had walked on blistered feet mile after mile and day after day with that simple purpose in mind. When her bloody feet finally stopped, she was in Two-Ten City.
Two-Ten was an open city full of all races. The best of the worst resided there. It was a border town between the north and the south, between the barren Outlands and green forests.
As she advanced into the city, Jarla could see a shabby building in the distance. Caravans pushing cheap commodities came and went. She wiped the dust and sweat from her eyes. She wasn’t going in there; she was headed somewhere else.
As Jarla stumbled along, she thought of when she’d lost Nightmare. Over a year had passed since she’d succumbed to a formidable orcen soldier by the name of Brandoff. He was as cunning with cards as he was with a sword. She was overconfident, figuring the orc to be as stupid as the rest. He showed her otherwise. He was a better cheater than she. She paid for it. She lost her warhorse and the rest of her pride. Today she would regain at least one of the two, or die.
Jarla knew that Brandoff had alway
s spent time with his minions in the belly of Two-Ten City in a tavern called the Ogre’s Nest. It was anything but a typical tavern. It sat outside of the edge of the notorious city, and it looked like a barn. If the orcs and ogres had ever come up with one single brilliant idea in all their lifetimes, it was turning a barn full of stables into a tavern.
The orcs and ogres rode right into the tavern, stabled their mounts, and went right into the reveling. It was the perfect place for their kind. Shoveling was in constant flux, however, as the less-gifted orcen and half-orcen children were tasked with keeping the place clean. They did a poor job. Muck and grime were piled everywhere.
The Ogre’s Nest was the only place of its kind on Bish. If you weren’t part orc or part ogre, then you were not in there. The other races couldn’t tolerate the smell. Smoking wasn’t allowed, either. Even the orcs knew simple fire would burn the entire place down. They smoked just outside. It made them feel civilized.
For illumination, they filled jars with the lime-yellow glowing tail sacs of the gargantuan lightning bugs. The bugs were as big as a man’s head and the juice glowed brightly for weeks on end. They were not always easy to catch but the children always seemed to enjoy doing so. The task kept them busy at night while the older brethren played cards, drank, and indulged pleasures not fit for human eyes.
On this particular night, Brandoff the Brawler sat listening to his filthy comrades. They were swapping stories about his incredible exploits on the battlefield. Brandoff embellished them with tales of all of the women he conquered in his life. His audience lapped it up.
The orc fighter was bigger than the rest. He was almost six and a half feet tall, muscular, and heavyset. His scarred face was covered with a coal-black beard and long braided hair. A broad and sweaty swine-like nose flared above his canine teeth. He jutting chin was smiling at himself most of the time. His brown eyes were smaller than his kin, darting and intelligent, uncommon of their kind. He wore thick black studded leather armor about his chest and sported matching bracers. His arms were long and corded with muscle—and hair. Only the half-ogres were his match but they had no part of him and he none of them.
The Darkslayer: Book 02 - Blades in the Night Page 16