Kuurn leaned over her shoulder and smirked. “Are those the people you should have killed?”
She nodded.
He glanced at the vicious. “We’d better finish the job.”
“One of those people is the Darkslayer,” she said.
“Even better. I’m sure Master Sinway would love to have his head.”
CHAPTER 19
Coming out of his trance, Fogle stretched out his arms and yawned. He opened and closed the spellbook in his lap.
One. Two. Three.
The book shrunk down to hand size. He set it aside, rubbed his eyes, and yawned again.
Hours of study take it out of a man. I wonder if there’s any coffee in our packs.
He pushed the tent flap open and crawled outside. It was morning, and the first sun was already above the tree line. The camp was quiet. “Jubilee?”
“Mrph!”
Fogle’s head whipped around. Jubilee was bound up in the same spot Jarla had been. The brigand queen and her horse were gone. He scrambled over to Jubilee and pulled the rag from her mouth. “What happened?”
Jubilee spat. “Blecht! Thing tasted awful. It’s about time you crawled out of there, Fogle. I didn’t think you were ever going to wake up.”
Untying her bindings, he said, “I wasn’t sleeping, I was meditating. Now, what happened? Where’s Jarla?”
Rubbing her wrists, Jubilee said, “I don’t know.”
“How did she get away, Jubilee?” He grabbed her shoulders. “Think!”
“Settle down, will you?” She shoved his hands away and pointed. “I was sitting right there in front of the fire, and we were talking. She was giving me some sob story about her troubled life. It was boring. I fell asleep, and when I woke up I was tied to this tree. Happy?”
“Slat!” he said, rubbing his neck.
Jubilee got up and went to check on Brak. He was still sleeping. “He still doesn’t look so good. Are we going to go after Jarla?”
“Bish, no,” he said, scanning the camp. “Why would we do that? I’m trying to figure out why the woman didn’t kill us all.”
“She probably figures we’re as good as dead already,” Jubilee said. “We really need to do something about Brak. His fingers are turning blue, and his nose is all snotty.”
Fogle stood up and slammed his hands on his knees. “Let’s pack it up, then.”
She looked around. “Pack it up? And go where?”
“Two-Ten City, I suppose.”
“Why?”
Rubbing his head, he said, “I don’t really know why, but I can’t think of anywhere else to go, so it might as well be there.”
“And you know how to get there?”
“It shouldn’t be hard. It’s not like there aren’t trails everywhere. Who knows, maybe we’ll find good fortune along the way.” He reached down and pulled out one of his tent’s stakes. “I hate doing this.”
It took half an hour for them to pack everything up. They still had the horses and mules. Fogle couldn’t help but wonder why Jarla would leave them, but as far as he could figure, she must have wanted to move fast. Still thinking of her, he threw his pack on the saddle and tied it down. “Jubilee, make sure Brak is secure.”
“I will,” she said from somewhere out of his sight.
He turned to grab another pack from the ground and found himself face to face with Jarla. “You?”
Jarla slugged him in the jaw so hard it knocked him on his knees. “It’s me, mage.” She kicked him in the gut. “Now tell me who’s in charge.”
Jubilee rushed at Jarla with a knife. “Get away from him.”
The brigand queen twisted the blade away from the child and backhanded her in the face. She glared at both of them. “I’ve been no more than ten yards away, watching your every move. A blind kobold could have found me.” She reached down, grabbed Fogle by the robes, and hauled him up. Face to face with him, she said, “I should have slit your throat.”
“Why didn’t you?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she half said, half hissed. She pushed him away and marched over to Brak then reached inside a pouch and started putting blue-green moss in his mouth. “Perhaps because he’s still my commander.”
Brak’s jutting jaw started to chew.
Jubilee wandered over to Jarla. “What does that do?”
With a little shrug, Jarla said, “We shall see, won’t we. Let’s go.”
Rubbing his face, Fogle said, “So you’re cooperating now?”
Jarla put her fingers to her lips and made a sharp whistle. Nightmare trotted out of the nearby brush. “Ten yards away,” she said. “You thought you could follow the trails to Two-Ten City, but you couldn’t find an orc if it sat on your nose.”
With his hands on his head, Fogle said to her, “You really do have an unpleasant way with words.”
“It keeps people away,” she said as she climbed up into the saddle. “Coming?”
Fogle gave her a nod.
I don’t know what’s going on, but I think I like it. After all, if she wanted us dead, we’d be dead. I must be growing on her. Maybe I should be surprised. I must have something going.
The journey was slow and steady once they made it into the edge of the jungles at the top of the south. Jarla led the way. She seemed at ease and even talked from time to time. Fogle did his best to keep up with her and engage in the conversation.
He smashed a mosquito on his arm and said, “Is it possible every part of Bish is insufferable? I thought the greenery would give me a break from the sun, but it’s worse.” Sweat dripped into his eyes. He mopped it away with his sleeve. “I miss the dry heat of the Outlands already.”
Jarla looked back at him. Her excellent figure glistened with sweat. She was like a panther back in her home. “You won’t get used to it, so stop complaining.”
“Easy for you to say. It looks good on you. I must look like a sopping-wet hound.”
“You do,” she said.
With Jarla leading the way, they survived another two nights and a day. And then they emerged from the shortcuts of the southern jungles. The vine-coated trees thinned, and the open plains emerged. In the distance was a city. Dirt roads led to it from several directions. A few people milled about. There were buildings too. Nothing tall or notable, but many, huddled together, built from wood and stone.
Squinting, Fogle said, “That’s Two-Ten City?”
“Yes,” Jarla said. “You sound surprised.”
“I just thought it would be bigger. Is it big enough to be called a city?”
Jubilee rode up alongside Fogle and said, “It doesn’t look like a city to me. It looks like a bunch of slat houses.” She fanned her hand in front of her nose. “It stinks. What is that smell?”
Sniff! Sniff!
Everyone turned to where Brak lay on the stretcher. He’d been silent for days. Now, his eyes were open and he wrestled with his bonds. His nostrils were flaring, sniffing and snorting.
Jubilee jumped from her horse and ran to him. “Easy, Brak. Take it easy!”
“Hungry!” he said with a wild look in his eyes.
“Oh no,” Jubilee said. “Fogle, he’s got that look in his eyes. He hasn’t eaten in days. He must be starving! And we don’t have any food.”
“Keep him bound up,” Fogle said. “We’ll go into town and get him some food.”
Brak strained against his bonds.
Jubilee backed away.
Brak tore out of his stretcher and ripped it to shreds.
Snap! Snap! Crack!
Wild-eyed and nostrils flaring, the mountain of a man stormed toward Two-Ten City.
CHAPTER 20
Melegal sat up in the saddle. His back was stiff. He stretched from side to side. For two days he and the company had been traveling nonstop at a quick pace. He’d sickened of the heat already. Now, suns high in the sky, traversing the barren Outlands, he and Nikkel remained with Kam, Erin, and Jasper. Nikkel was in front, and Melegal rode in the rear,
talking to his pony, Quickster, more than anybody.
I’ve never seen the women so quiet before. I wonder what they’re thinking. I bet it’s something like ‘Castrate Melegal. Castrate Melegal.’ Hmm, I’d probably be thinking along those same lines too.
He scanned the horizon. They’d traveled leagues, and little in the landscape had changed. Rocks. Bone trees, cacti, and tumbleweeds. Insects scurried over the sunbaked dirt. A squirrel-like rodent dashed over the ground, snatched up a mantis-like insect in its jaws, and vanished into a small hole.
I miss the city. Even Two-Ten is better than this furnace hot desert of despair.
He cast his glance on Jasper’s back. Her lithe and sensuous figure swayed in the saddle.
Even in the worst of situations, she’s still a sultry form. Though she’s not Elypsa. Curse my heart for lusting after that fiend of a woman. Perhaps my passions did almost kill the lot of us.
He pulled his narrow shoulders back and yawned. A bug flew into his mouth. “Kack! Kack! Kack!” He spat it out.
Nikkel came to a stop, turned, and said, “Is everything fine back there?”
Running his finger through his mouth, Melegal said, “Keep going. I only choked on a bug as big as my hand.”
“It’s a shame it didn’t finish the job,” Jasper said. “Perhaps the next one won’t fail.”
“Oh, she speaks to me. How delightful.” He rode up alongside the sorceress and eyed her. “You miss me, don’t you.”
“Go away.”
“Come now, Jasper. You cannot fault me for my curiosity. Even you must admit the woman was fascinating.”
She charged up her fingers with a purple glow of magic that reflected in her eyes. “Go away.”
“You act as if we were betrothed,” he said, riding Quickster away.
“No, I act as if you are a betrayer! You consorted with an underling!”
Melegal shrugged. “I didn’t treat her any differently than any other man would have. What did you expect?”
“Fool, if it had been a male underling, would you not have expected me to kill it?”
“That’s different,” he said, sounding a little uncertain of himself.
“Is it?” Jasper said.
Kam slowed her horse on the other side of him. “Yes, Melegal. If we thought as you do, we would not kill the men, just the women.”
“Then by all means, the two of you should have killed her.”
“But we should spare the men?” Jasper injected.
“I think most men deserve it long before the women,” Kam said, eyeing Jasper. “Don’t you agree?”
“Certainly,” Jasper nodded. “Perhaps we should just stay out of it, Kam, and let all the men kill each other.”
Melegal shook his head.
See what happens when Venir isn’t around? They start picking on me.
Nikkel came to a stop and addressed the women. “Now wait a moment. I’m not guilty of anything, and you’re trying to kill me off too.”
“No offense, Nikkel, but you are young. Give it some time, and you’ll do something just as vile and stupid as the rest of the men,” Kam said, riding up to him. She reached out and pinched his cheek. “But I don’t wish the men to be gone. After all, they have one useful purpose.”
“What’s that?” Nikkel said.
Kam patted Erin’s little head resting in front of her in the saddle. “You help us make babies, and plenty of joy comes from them.” She rode on.
Jasper followed after her.
“Yes,” Melegal said, riding up to Nikkel, “and plenty of joy comes from making babies too. They didn’t bother to mention that, did they.”
“No, but I think I’d better keep a safe distance from you.” Wary-eyed, Nikkel rode away from Quickster. “Remember they have magic, and I have a feeling if you don’t learn how to treat a lady better real soon, then you’re going to wind up being nothing but a puff of smoke.”
Scratching Quickster’s ears, Melegal nudged the beast forward, speaking to it. “Well, at least I can count on your opinion to never change about me, can’t I, you old feedbag.”
Ahead, the women had come to a stop. Their eyes were frozen on something above them. The horses stomped the ground, whinnying and nickering.
“Melegal,” Jasper said aloud without turning her head, “we have company.”
Melegal leaned to one side, glancing around the women’s bodies, then he looked up. The blood in his veins froze. An underling in long dark-gray robes dropped from the sky and hovered over the ground less than thirty yards away. The fiend’s citrine eyes charged up with fire. Yellow bolts of energy exploded from its hands.
Oh slat!
CHAPTER 21
Venir felt good. The sway of Chongo’s walk beneath his saddle was an old familiar comfort. It had been too long, far too long since the pair had been together. Riding over the dry Outlands with the hot suns on his face, he felt at home. Even the glare of the suns didn’t bother him, and his conversation with Billip was spirited.
“You look happy,” the archer said. Billip sat on top of a painted horse, a rich dark brown and white. Sweat ran down his cheeks. “I’m glad to be out of that giant hole in the ground, but blast my hide, this ride is miserable.”
Venir shook his head. “Happy, you say?”
“Well, that’s what I’d call it. There you are, riding on the back of Chongo with a weird grin forming on your lips.” Billip sighed. “I usually look that way with a lap full of ornery women, though I don’t think it would do me much good now.”
“Take a drink, then,” Venir said, spying the mirages ahead.
The two of them had managed a quick pace trying to gain on the dwarven army, but for thousands of soldiers the dwarves seemed to move unimpeded and really fast. “And I suppose you could say I’m happy. It seems like such a strange word to say. I seldom ever hear a woman use it, let alone a man.”
After taking a long drink from his canteen, Billip wiped his mouth and said, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Happy is an odd word coming from a man.” Venir hid his smile. “It seems quite natural coming from you, though.”
“And what would have been more appropriate?”
“Don’t worry, Billip. It’s just us talking. It’s not like Nikkel or Melegal are around to fillet your swooning tongue,” he said. “But if it were me I would have said ‘spirited’ or ‘lively.’”
“Swooning tongue?” Billip gawped.
Venir started laughing.
“You know,” said Billip, “I don’t care what I call it. You’re happy. I find it very disconcerting.”
Venir pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Well, that makes two of us.”
They rode on, tasting nothing but hot dust for miles. Following the dwarves wasn’t hard, but if not for their footprints, one would never know they had passed by. They didn’t use fires and didn’t leave a scrap of any kind of waste. The dwarves were more efficient than the finest Royal army.
“Perhaps it’s high time I headed back to the others to make sure Melegal’s head is intact,” Billip said. “That is assuming you don’t mind him riding with you awhile. I figure the women have been giving him plenty of heat over nothing but Jasper’s jealousy.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that. Melegal doesn’t sweat.” Venir gave Billip a look and said, “Why don’t you send Nikkel up? I haven’t really spent much time with him―but give me a little time to myself first, say an hour.”
Billip eyed him. “Give me your word you aren’t going to run off on us.”
“Of course not. We have a dwarven army to catch.” Venir peered ahead and pointed at a hilltop of painted rocks. “We’ll be there.”
“You’re the one who keeps saying we all should stay close. No splitting up.”
“True, but I don’t think there’s any danger. If there were, the dwarves would have wiped them out, and I don’t see any signs of battle.”
Rubbing the grizzle on his cheek, Billip said, “Well, you know
what they say. Bish happens.”
“Yes, but probably not today. Now get moving so I can get back to being happy.”
Billip took off at a gallop, leaving Venir and Chongo in the dust alone.
Rubbing the dog’s big necks, Venir said, “It’s just me and you, boy, just like it used to be so long ago. Once we catch up to Mood―and I hope he has his senses back―I’m going to find out how the two of you made it back through the mist.”
Chongo’s tongues hung from his mouths, and he shook his heads and gave a howl.
“Fine, then, you can tell me,” Venir replied.
The reunited pair had traveled another hundred yards toward the hilltop when Chongo’s four ears perked up. His black snouts started to sniff and snort. His front paw dug at the ground, and both heads let out low rumbling growls.
Feeling the vibration in his saddle, Venir grabbed Helm, who was hanging to the side of the saddle.
“Easy, boy,” he said, rubbing Chongo’s neck. The massive dog could smell or sense things long before Venir did, even if he had Helm on. It was one of the reasons he enjoyed his time with Chongo so much. The dog could track Mood or anyone and alert all of them for any potential danger. He was an amazing animal.
Venir put Helm on his head. His senses caught fire.
“Underlings,” he muttered. He reached down and grabbed the handle of Brool, who hung over the other side of his saddle. The wood grain on the haft was warm to the touch. It pulsated with energy. Shield strapped to his back, Venir felt as alive as ever. A snarl formed on his lips. “Time to hunt underlings, Chongo.”
Whoever was out there was waiting for him. He could feel it. And there was a calling in the air, a chittering of whispers. The sounds carried with the wind from the hill he was traveling to.
Chongo lurched forward and headed into a trot. Something was ahead. Something dangerous. Venir would destroy it before it got to his friends.
When they made it to the bottom of the rocky hillside, Venir slipped out of the saddle with the ease of a cat. Head low, he led the way, trusting Helm’s none too subtle urgings. The chittering sound carried like a song in the wind, rushing through the passage in the rocks. Following the winding pass higher and higher he came to a stop in the first clearing. His eyes widened behind Helm’s eyelets. “You.”
The Darkslayer: Bish and Bone Series Collector's Edition (Books 1-10): Sword and Sorcery Masterpieces Page 77
