Chaos At The Castle (Book Six)

by Craig Halloran

  She rapped her fist on the table. “I’ll try anything once! Let’s do this!” She learned forward on her elbows and stared into Fodor’s eyes. “You have nice eyes.” She licked her lips. “Now what?”

  Fodor loosened the top button on his tunic, nodded to one of the other wizards, and then turned his focus on her. The petite man’s eyes were like ice blue water, hypnotizing like a snake.

  The men around the table quietly talked among themselves in a strange gibberish and gently laid coins on the table.

  “Are they betting for me or against me?” she said.

  The mage with the crook in his jaw muttered quickly, twirled his fingers, and then touched her forehead with one finger and Fodor’s with another. “What’s he doooooo …”

  Darlene didn’t feel anything, but the man across from her’s face turned snake-like, red tongue licking out of its mouth and striking. It was her, watching herself standing in the dark woods facing off a great snake. She didn’t scream, just whipped out a knife and cut off its head.

  “Is that it? Is it over? Did I win?” Her voiced echoed. But the scene changed. A white mist surrounded her, and the sound of rain filled her ears. “Say, where’s the rain?”

  In the distance, a man stood waving.

  The mist turned from clouds to an Outland desert, and she was hot and thirsty. She watched the man drop a canteen. She was trotting towards it when an orc came from out of nowhere. She shot it with her bow. A gnoll popped up behind her, swinging a bastard sword. She ducked and stabbed in in the thigh. It disappeared. The suns beat down on her as she crawled hands and knees towards the canteen. She grabbed it, tipped it up to her mouth―and drank a mouthful of sand.

  “Ugh! No!” she sputtered.

  Nearby, Fodor stood, hands on hips, laughing.

  “Have you had enough, Darlene?” he said. There was something mocking about him.

  She threw the canteen at him. “No!”

  He picked it up and poured water down his throat and all over himself. “Ah!”

  “This game is stupid, Fodor,” she said. She tried to yell, spitting sand from her mouth. “I quit.” She closed her eyes and opened them. Nothing happened.

  “Why am I still here?” she said, looking around.

  “You half-wit!” he said. He stormed across the sand, sneering. “This game isn’t over until I say it is over! And you, such audacity to speak with me and sit at my table. Oh, you shall pay for it. After this, you’ll tell no more of your stupid stories to anyone again.”

  “What are you doing!” Darlene cried out.

  “Teaching you a lesson you’ll never forget, inbreed!”

  Darlene grabbed her head. Her nose was bleeding! The sound of laughing voices was all around her now, jeering and making fun. Her fears overcame her, and darkness closed in.

  NO! STOP THIS!

  “Ha! Ha! Ha! Look, she peed herself,” someone from somewhere said.

  Angry and embarrassed, Darlene tried to fight back. Lashing out, her figure struck at Fodor with a knife. He rose above it, laughed, clapped his hands, and the knife was gone.

  “Foolish woman, you are not clever enough to beat me!”

  An invisible force squeezed her mind, suffocating her.

  What is going on?

  She felt a sudden loneliness that she’d never felt before. Deep down, painful despair. No one liked her. No one needed her. No one cared for her. Not even her father or mother. Her brothers and sisters even abandoned her. She had no one. She was no one.

  “That’s right, Darlene, no one cares about you at all. Your life doesn’t even matter,” Fodor laughed.

  Tears were streaming down her cheeks, dripping onto the table.

  I’m not so bad. I’m not so terrible.

  A giant snake coiled around her and spoke through its fanged mouth.

  “But you are!”

  It took the breath right from her.

  She deserved to die. She had no friends at all she could count on.

  Or did she?

  SCORCH!

  ***

  Joline had just spent the last several minutes pouring her heart out to the man named Scorch. He was a wonderful listener and something to look at, too. She’d just finished telling him about what happed to Kam and the baby Erin when he turned his attention away.

  “Pardon me,” he said. He was looking for his friend, Darlene.

  “Oh my, how did she wind up with them?” Joline said. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying any attention.”

  Darlene sat in her chair, catatonic, while the men laughed because she’d peed herself.

  “I’ll take care of this,” Joline said. She rushed from behind the bar straight for Darlene’s table.

  “You men cut that out! She’s my guest—”

  Plerf!

  The first man that looked up’s head exploded.

  “Mother of Bish—”

  Plerf!

  The man next to the man whose head exploded’s head exploded as well.

  An arc of red sprayed across the room like a rainbow.

  Plerf!

  Plerf!

  Plerf!

  One right after the other, three more men’s heads exploded. Five bodies fell. Blood was everywhere. Silence fell.

  Joline was shaking. Blood was sprinkled all over her hands and apron. At the table, Darlene wiped the blood from her face, gaping at her.

  “Did I do that?” Darlene said.

  Joline’s tongue clove to the roof of her mouth.

  Darlene turned and looked at Fodor. He sat wide-eyed, blood-coated and trembling in his chair.

  “Did you do that?” Darlene asked him.

  He shook his head.

  Plerf!

  His head exploded.

  “Guess not,” Darlene said. She grabbed the bottle of wine, pulled the cork out of the bottle with her teeth and started drinking.

  Scorch was laughing. Everyone else screamed.

  CHAPTER 10

  The Nest was in Chaos.

  Find Diller! Save Erin!

  Lefty picked his way through Palos’s blood bath and into the streets, where skirmishes among the thieves had broken out everywhere. Screams, shouts and cries of alarm echoed up and down the alleys and across the docks, where members of the thieves’ guild sought escape from one another―and from another predator: the wrath of Zorth’s blade.

  Two thieves tumbled through a storefront. One collapsed in a heap, begging for his life. The other drove a dagger into his chest. Lefty darted away.

  I have no idea who is on whose side. I need to find Jubbler!

  Wind rushing past his ears, Lefty made his way to the docks that had become the battleground of the bloody revolt. Somewhere in the throng, a deep eerie voice rang out.

  “I am Zorth! Vanquisher of all evil!”

  The pleas and cries of men came to an abrupt halt.

  “Get that halfling!” someone cried. “He’s responsible for this!”

  Glancing over his shoulder, he saw two men and one dwarf coming his way. Behind them was the orcen Quarter Master.

  The big orc cracked his lash over his head. “Bring that little blond head to me!”

  Lefty dashed down into the Quarters, wedged himself between the crates, and began pushing himself to the other side. Booted feet rushed over the planks.

  One. Two. Three. He counted as they passed by his spot.

  That was close!

  “That’s a dead end, rogues!” The Quarter Master yelled. His broad back blocked the narrow space between the crates. “Wait a minute. I smell something. Sniff. Sniff. I smell fear!” The Quarter Master turned and peeked into the space.” Ah, there he is!” He reached inside the space, fingers clutching, catching hold of Lefty’s shirt. “I have you now!”

  No!

  He pulled away, but the grip of the orc was strong.

  Come on, Lefty!

  He dug his little fingers into the next crate and held on for dear life.

  “Hah! Hah! Hah! You aren’
t going anywhere, little halfling, except into the murk when I’m through torturing you!”

  The orc’s pimply and pitted face was pale, merciless. Lefty never imagined facing death would be so horrible. Desperate, he bit down on the orc’s finger with all his might.

  The orc roared, but held tight, yanking him out from between the crates with one powerful tug, skinning his face. The Quarter Master held him up by the scruff of his collar and stuck the long yellow nail of his finger in his face. He bared the canines of his teeth.

  “You bit me like a yellow-headed rodent; now I’m going to bite you!”

  The three other thieves gathered round.

  “Take a hunk off his leg!”

  “No, bite his ear off!”

  The dwarf pulled out a long knife and said, “Let me cut off his toes.”

  Lefty kicked and flailed.

  The orc laughed.

  “What’s the matter, rodent? Are you offended that I won’t cook you first?”

  “No! I’m offended by the smell of sewage in your mouth.”

  “Hah! Ha—urk!”

  Lefty drove his foot into the orc’s throat.

  The orc hoisted him over his head and slammed him into the ground.

  He saw bright spots and felt his shoulder pop out of place. His eyes watered.

  The orc stood over him, rubbing his greasy neck.

  “Ooo, that little fit cost you, didn’t it, Halfling? Hah! The little bird cannot fly away with a busted wing. Tie him up. Once this fight is over, we’ll put him on a spit!”

  “Heeeee!”

  “Hooooooo!”

  “Huuuuuuuuuuh!”

  Three burly figures leapt from the crates over them, each landing on a different thief.

  One was Jubbler. The crusty dwarf drove a short sword into the neck of the dwarf. The other men’s bellies were run through with spears.

  Huffing, three dwarves stood there, squaring off on the Quarter Master. The orc ripped his swords from his scabbards.

  “Come on then,” the orc said.

  Lefty scooted back behind Jubbler. The dwarf with pig tails in his beard stepped between him and Jubbler.

  “The revolt is over, Quarter Master. Palos’s reign is done. Drop those blades of yours, if you want mercy! Huh!”

  “Huh!” the orc said. “Fool babbler! Think you I’ll surrender! Think I want mercy?” He beat his chest. “The only thing I’m going to do is skin the hide from your thick dwarven necks, you loon, Jubbler!”

  The Quarter Master sunk his blade in the nearest dwarf’s chest.

  “Hah! I’m a warrior, not a thief!”

  The other dwarf jabbed his spear at the orc’s knees. The Quarter Master spun away, knocked the shaft aside, and stuck his other blade into the dwarf’s skull. The orc flashed them a nasty grin. “I’m gonna carve you both into troll food. Tiny little bits that are easy to swallow.”

  Lefty felt like he was going to vomit. Jubbler was dragging him back, but the dock was running out of room.

  “I’ve a confession to make. Huh. Lefty. Huh. I can’t swim,” Jubbler said. The dwarf eyed the lake and the orc.

  “Everybody knows dwarves can’t swim. Don’t feel bad. I don’t think I can now either,” he said. He was wincing and holding his shoulder. He could maybe run if he had to. Dash right past the Quarter Master. He couldn’t leave Jubbler though. But he needed to find Erin.

  What to do!

  The orc wrenched his dripping blade from the fallen dwarf’s skull.

  “I’m going to enjoy this!”

  Can life get any worse in this world? I’ve failed at everything!

  “Tis a shame, Lefty. Huh. We have this thing won! Huh. Huh. Palos’s rule is over!” Jubbler said. He shuffled back another step. Only a few feet of planks left between them and the water. “Tell you what. Huh. I’ll fight. Huh. You run. Huh. Tell them I need help. Huh. They’ll run this pile of pig slat through. Huh.”

  “Bravery, the blood-letter of fools,” the orc said. The Quarter Master was within striking distance.

  Jubbler stopped, stood up and wrapped both hands around his sword.

  “Nice knowing you, Lefty. Huh. And remember. Huh. Master Gillem would be proud. Just make sure you master those absidium chains.” He raised his sword. “My hide and skull much thicker than my brother’s, Orc!”

  The Quarter Master banged his steel together. “We’ll see about that!”

  Lefty’s heart sank. He didn’t have many friends left. The last one he’d lost, Gillem, he wasn’t close to getting over yet. Something swelled inside his chest. With his magic feet, he might be able to run right past the orc and find safety. After all, he had to find Erin. But the thought of another friend dying tore at him.

  NO!

  The orc swung.

  Jubbler parried.

  Slice.

  Chop!

  Bang!

  Clatter!

  Jubbler’s sword skidded over the deck and plopped into the waters.

  “Run, Lefty!” the dwarf said.

  Fight or die!

  On magic feet he charged. “NOOOOOOOOO!” He slammed into the Quarter Master’s chest, barreling him over.

  “What!” the orc cried out.

  Lefty kicked. It was all he could do. His shoulder was useless.

  Jubbler did the same.

  Whop!

  A steel pommel hit Lefty in the head. Blood oozed over his eyes.

  Crack!

  Jubbler fell face first onto the deck.

  The Quarter Master gathered his feet under him and stood over them.

  “Nice try, little people.” He snorted and licked his lips. “But now it’s time to die. Mmmm. I’m going to be eating good tonight.” He raised his swords over his head.

  Exhausted, Lefty couldn’t move an inch. Beside him, Jubbler lay face first on the deck. Out cold. Lefty spit blood. He’d fought with all he had in him.

  It was the right thing to do. Save a friend a little longer. It had to be. Fight or Die.

  He closed his eyes.

  I’m sorry, Kam and Erin.

  “I am Zorth!”

  Lefty’s weary eyes snapped open.

  Thorn’s face and haggard figure quickly approached, wielding a gleaming sword as long as a man in his hands.

  “Vanquisher of Giants! Dragons and Evil Doers!”

  “What! Thorn!”

  The Quarter Master roared and charged.

  “You’ll not be robbing me of my—”

  SLICE!

  Thorn swung through the big orc, shattering his blades with one stroke. Blood spilled from the slit in his waist. The orc gawped. The great sword sung again, ripping the head from his shoulders. It bounced off the deck and splashed into the waters.

  “I am Zorth! The end of all evil is at hand!”

  Lefty leered up at the tall and rangy man. His face was charred and pink. His eyes black. The man he’d known as Thorn was gone and wouldn’t be missed. But now, whoever had him possessed was a far superior threat. Lefty lost his breath when Zorth looked down on him with burning black eyes. Blood was dripping from the blade.

  “I am Zorth! No evil shall remain!”

  Am I evil?

  Lefty watched the blade go up like it was a mile high in the air.

  Or is he insane?

  Blue eyes wide as saucers, he watched the blade descend.

  Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip!

  Crossbow bolts ripped into the big man’s body.

  Thorn turned and faced his agitators. Filled with bolts in his chest, legs and neck, he stormed up the deck.

  “I am Zorth! Avenger of Good. Vanquisher of Evil!”

  A dozen thieves greeted him. Crossbows rocking.

  Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip! ...

  Zorth crashed into the ones at the top of the bank. A dozen bolts in his chest. The Sword of Zorth rose and fell. Bones were splintered. Cri
es went out. Many rogues twitched on the bloody deck. Others searched for their limbs.

  “I am Zorth! Destroy—

  Clatch-Zip!

  A bolt went inside his one temple and stuck out the other.

  The great sword clattered to the deck. The remaining rogues chopped Thorn into ribbons.

  Lefty wiped the blood from his eyes.

  Thank Bish!

  A strong hand squeezed his bad shoulder. He flinched.

  It was Jubbler. “You alright, Huh!”

  “Aye!” Lefty said, swallowing.

  Erin!

  “Jubbler! Do you know where Erin is?”

  CHAPTER 11

  The world of Palos was dark, sadistic, perverted and dreary. Kam was choking in the man’s darkness with only his laughter echoing inside her ears.

  “Kam,” he taunted. “I told you that you’d be my whore forever. Now I have you.”

  Light of a candle flared, illuminating a small wood paneled room with no doors. Tears swelled up in her eyes as she sat on her knees, now a little girl with all the insecurities in the world. Bugs the size of her fist scurried over the room. Each with a different facade of Palos for a face. One crawled up her bound arms and spoke with antennas twitching.

  “Are you afraid, little girl? Do you fear the night?” He shape-shifted into a rat. “The rodents. The creatures that slither across the floor!” He turned into a burning green snake and coiled his tail around her neck. “Shall I burn your mind the same as you did my belly?” He hissed. “Hmmm… you lactating witch!”

  She couldn’t tear her gaze away. She was hypnotized with his power.

  “What am I doing here?” she cried out. “Where am I! Where am I!”

  The candle went out. Everything was gone. Only the sound of her sobs remained.

  What am I doing inside the mind of Palos?

  She had to find him. Find something. Find a way out of his maze.

  “You never should have come here, Kam!” His voice screamed. “I’ll never let you out!”

  The sound of a heavy metal door banging closed. She found herself inside a room, her full adult body bound up in chains. It was freezing. She shivered without control. Her chin quivered. Her teeth clacked.

  Palos appeared before her, dressed in warm white clothes, handsome and captivating. He lifted her trembling chin into his soft hands and looked her straight in the eye.