The Darkslayer: Bish and Bone Series Collector's Edition (Books 1-10): Sword and Sorcery Masterpieces

by Craig Halloran

  Alive. It’s good to feel alive.

  He hated to leave Chongo behind, but not the others. They couldn’t do what he did by himself. The underlings couldn’t see him in the armament, so if he could control the urge to kill, he might slip by them unnoticed. The goal was simple. Get to Mood and bring the blood ranger back to his senses before the entire dwarven army was slaughtered.

  I should have killed that female underling, but I let Melegal stop me―a mistake I need to correct.

  Underling evil. It was a deceptive disease that poisoned the well quickly. Venir had never shown mercy on any of them. No, not one. He’d known better until Elypsa came into view. She was different. Even Helm seemed to have a different reaction to her.

  Women … how easily the mighty fall captive to them.

  Snugged up against the rocks, he navigated through the winding and towering rock formations toward the heated sounds of battle. The rocks were gigantic. Some were shaped like men in a natural sort of way, and others were obelisks stretching up into the night. Huge stones teetered on massive shelves carved by steady rustling wind.

  Venir crept toward the clamoring sounds.

  A mass of underlings had blockaded a narrow pass in the canyon. There were dozens. On the other side of the pass, the gruff voices of the blood rangers were barking orders. Battling bodies were surging against one another. Above, on the canyon’s rim, underlings were throwing javelins and spears and firing crossbow bolts into the night-black gap.

  Helm was burning on Venir’s head. His knuckles were white on Brool’s grip. The fringes of his mind began to boil with rage. He wanted to charge right into the underlings and carve through them all.

  No, Venir. Not yet.

  He had to slip by the underlings, but from this point on, the fiends were everywhere. Even with the armament, he wasn’t sure he could slip by so many undetected. He could hear the dwarves. Stalwart. Strong. They were ready to fight for days. Death in battle was a great honor to them.

  He pressed his body into cover and began climbing up a distinctive rock formation that stood alone inside the canyon. The jagged rocks scraped Venir’s limbs as he climbed his way up to the top. He was fifty feet off the ground and had a bird’s-eye view of things. Below, the underlings had wedged themselves inside the pass, preventing the dwarves from escaping out the other side. With the pass being so narrow and the underlings blocking all the passages in the canyon, Venir was amazed so many dwarves had managed to fit within the miles of canyon.

  Those fiends can keep the dwarves holed up in there for days. We need to get them free.

  There was only one plan he could think of to get the dwarves free of the bottleneck. Another army had to attack the underlings from the other side. The jung could do that, but there wouldn’t be any protection for them from the underlings on top of the rim.

  There’s always more than one way to do something.

  From his position, Venir stayed low and advanced over the rock shelf. The nearest underlings on the canyon rim were over a hundred feet away, launching their weapons into the pass. The pinnacles of rocks he traversed led him to a jagged overlook hanging over the back side of the underlings. Venir found a rock bigger than his head and rolled it up into his lap. It was more flat than round and with many rough edges.

  Don’t throw it. Not yet, don’t throw it.

  Having a higher angle, he searched for another way into the passage. Either side of it was walled off with stone, but there would be a way through on the other side if he could get to it. But the only way to do this was to take the journey across the canyon’s rim. He’d just have to fight through a wave of underlings.

  I need to go back. Report. Convince the jung to do it my way. If we can free up the passage, the dwarves can pour through. The underlings won’t be able to stop them then.

  His impulse to kill the underlings wasn’t subsiding—it was still growing. He lifted the rock over his head and flung it into the underlings. The stone crushed two. The other bewildered underlings looked up in astonishment, their gemstone eyes searching.

  Venir started laughing. He tried to hold it in, but his laughter grew and carried through the canyon.

  The underlings started pointing toward him, searching for the source of the sound. A small band of them was dispatched and began climbing up the rocks toward him.

  Out of his mind with laughter, Venir hurled down more stones, bludgeoning the underlings with rock after rock.

  Suddenly, the tide of the underlings turned. They came up after Venir by the dozens, chittering for blood.

  CHAPTER 34

  Pursued by the underlings, Brak and company chased after Jarla, who had taken the lead. Brak rode behind Jubilee, and the ogres, Olg and Ugg, were behind him on their massive burros. They moved quickly through the jungle, but they weren’t increasing their distance from the fleet-footed fiends. To make matters worse, something was crashing above them through the trees.

  Looking over her shoulder, Jubilee yelled back at Brak. “What is that up there?”

  Brak couldn’t tell. His skin crawled from it, though. “Don’t look back. Just keep after Jarla and Fogle.”

  Jubilee clove to her horse. The company wasn’t at a full gallop, rather far from it. A brisk run was the best the horses could do in the rugged terrain.

  “Head for the clearing. Head for the clearing!” yelled a voice from up ahead.

  Brak saw Slim appear, only to vanish again. The horses were pushing themselves. They trailed each other in a jagged line. He had gotten better at handling the horses, but he wasn’t a master horseman. He ducked down the best he could, but the branches still stung his face. His horse was snorting, cutting back and forth in a wild pattern. It followed after Jubilee and her mount. The girl and horse hopped a tree. Brak’s horse did the same, hitting hard and jostling him in the saddle. Fighting to straighten himself, he veered the horse off the path. Brak caught a branch with his head and rolled from his horse’s back and onto the ground.

  “Ugh!” Instinct brought Brak to his feet with his sword in hand. His head throbbed, and there was blood in his eyes.

  Olg and Ugg trampled right toward him and passed him by.

  Underlings were right on the twin ogres’ tail. More underlings appeared. On fast feet, they converged on Brak.

  He launched a clumsy two-handed chop, knocking the first underling’s sword from its fingers.

  The second underling jabbed at Brak’s ribs, sticking him in the chest but not penetrating his armor.

  Brak jerked the underling up by the arm and punched it with his sword pommel, crushing its face.

  Something fell out of the trees and landed on Brak’s shoulder. A spider the size of a cat.

  “Yug!” He smashed it with his fist, splattering it into goo. The goo held his fist fast. “No!”

  Two more underlings with swords came at him. Their chops were fierce and precise.

  Brak backpedaled and parried with his other hand.

  The smaller agile fiends whacked at his knees.

  Brak defended himself as well as he could.

  The underlings drew blood. Opened a gash up in his thigh. Cut his wrists.

  More spiders fell from the trees, dropping on Brak like huge hairy raindrops.

  “Get off me!” He stabbed at the closest underling and fell down on one knee, exposed.

  The underlings hemmed him in and chittered in triumph.

  Brak could block one blade, but not two. He raised his steel for a final parry.

  A horse and rider blasted out of the jungle. It was Jarla. Her sword licked out in an arc of death, decapitating one underling. Her horse, Nightmare, trampled the other red-eyed fiend.

  Another knot of underling fighters emerged from the bushes and swarmed the woman and horse.

  She cleaved one in the skull. “Get up and fight, Brak!”

  Brak tore his hand out of the gooey webbing, grabbed another spider in his hand, and stuffed it in an oncoming underling’s face. “Eat, fiend!”


  From out of nowhere, Olg and Ugg waded into the fray. The fat pair of ogres grabbed an underling by his arms and legs and tore him asunder.

  Every underling still standing converged on the fearsome foursome.

  They fought hard and fierce. Brak and company overpowered the cunning fiendish fighters with size and brute strength.

  Olg suffocated an underling inside his meaty arms until its spine snapped like a twig.

  Jarla lanced one through the back with her sword, and Nightmare’s hooves turned an underling’s bones to dust.

  Brak stabbed an underling in the belly and flung its corpse aside into the grass. He didn’t see any more underlings. Laboring for breath, he said, “I think that’s the last of them.”

  But a spider dropped onto his head. They were still falling from the trees by the dozens.

  He brushed them off his body and yelled at Ugg, “Don’t squish them.”

  The ogre squished a spider in his hands, popping its flesh and binding the ogre’s hands together. He let out a confused grunt. His pudgy face became angry and filled with strain. He let out a bellowing cry.

  Wheeling her horse around, Jarla flicked off the spiders that crawled on her horse and said, “This is maddening!”

  Brak cocked his head to one side at the sound of an odd whistle. It was a woozy layer of sound, and it awakened butterflies in his stomach.

  The spiders crawled over the ground and back up into the trees.

  Slim appeared, still on horseback. Jubilee was with him. His lips were pursed together and making the odd whistle. Finally, he stopped.

  Brak said, “Why did you have spiders attack us?”

  “I didn’t,” Slim replied. “An underling mage controlled them, and this little woman over here, with a touch of assistance from me, stabbed him … several times.”

  “So that’s the last of the underlings?” Brak said.

  “In the general vicinity, I suppose.”

  “Where is the wizard, then?” Jarla asked.

  Brak didn’t see any sign of Fogle. “That’s a problem.”

  “Everyone stay put. I’ll search for him,” Jarla said. She led her horse back into the forest.

  The upper branches of a nearby tree exploded. An underling fell through the branches and crashed to the ground.

  “You missed one,” Fogle said. He was on foot and standing near a tree across from Brak. He dusted off his hands. “It’s a good thing I sniffed him out. A mage. I don’t sense any more, though.”

  Jarla came back and said, “Where’s your horse?”

  “They killed it.” The wizard looked up at her and smiled. “Can I ride with you?”

  “No one rides my Nightmare but me.”

  CHAPTER 35

  After Jarla’s rejection, Fogle made a convincing case to Jubilee as to why he should use her horse. She was reluctant, but finally she succumbed and agreed to ride with Brak. The girl was angry at both of the men, and she made her feelings clear.

  Fogle didn’t have time to worry about it now. Instead, he needed to focus on Jarla and where she was taking them. Daybreak had come after a long ride through the night. He spurred his horse forward and caught up to the brigand queen.

  Yawning, he asked, “Where are we going?”

  “As I said before, we’re heading toward the Red Clay Forest,” she explained. “But if you like, you can take your chances in the Mist. I promise I won’t miss you.”

  “Well, at least you made me a promise. Makes me feel better.” His eyes drifted toward the Mist. Miles away, a great wall of fog reached higher than his eyes could see. The longer he stared at the natural monstrosity, the more his stomach felt queasy. It was foreboding and haunting. The place appeared to be between life and death. He recalled Venir speaking about his trip inside there―a fall that lasted forever. “Perhaps we would be safer in the Mist if we held hands when we went in?”

  “Perhaps you would feel better if you didn’t have any hands at all?” she replied.

  “I don’t think you would want that.” He held up his hands and wiggled his fingers. “As I recall, you said they were delightful.”

  Sitting proud, chin high, she didn’t reply. She’d made it clear she didn’t want any attachments.

  Perhaps I get attached too quickly.

  He considered giving her some space but thought better of it. There had been a point in their adventure when Fogle was in charge―and now Jarla had retaken command. There was Slim to deal with too. He was agreeable but manipulative. The way the healer had controlled the bugs was strange too.

  Maybe I should summon something to keep an eye on everybody.

  ***

  “How are you feeling?” Brak said to Jubilee.

  She didn’t reply. She hadn’t said a word to him since they got on his horse. Usually, she’d ride with her hands on his waist and lean on his back, but she barely touched him.

  “I know something’s bothering you, Jubilee. You’re never so quiet. Your mouth flows like a stream even on a grim day.”

  She punched him in the ribs.

  “That’s better,” he said.

  “You make me sick,” she retorted.

  “Me? What did I do?”

  She clammed up again.

  Brak started to hum.

  After a few minutes, Jubilee said, “Stop it! Just stop it! I hate it when you hum. You sound like you’re choking.”

  “I don’t sound like I’m choking to me.” He leaned back into her. “What are you mad about?”

  Jubilee pushed back. “Quit doing that.”

  Brak leaned into her again. “What, doing this?”

  “Quit it, Brak.”

  “I’ll stop when you tell me why you’re being so prickly with me.” He leaned back into her again.

  “I’ll just walk,” she replied.

  “You can’t keep up. Your legs are too short.”

  She smacked him in the back of the head and said, “Ow!” Shaking her hand, she said, “Curse you, Brak. Curse you and Jarla!”

  “Jarla?” He tried to turn his head and look at her. “What about me and Jarla?”

  “You fornicated with that greasy snake.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Brak. I know you did.”

  “I don’t even know what forna, uh, what was that word again?”

  Jubilee hit him in the back, saying, “Quit playing stupid. No one’s that stupid. Not even you.”

  “I shared her tent for a few nights, but that was all.”

  “I hate you, Brak.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re a liar, and I hate liars. And Fogle!” She peeked around Brak and stared up at Jarla and Fogle. “Look at him. He’s happier than swine in mud. Dirty old Fogle the Fornicator.”

  “Well, what he does, he does, but I didn’t do what he did.” Brak sighed. “I’m too young for that sort of thing.”

  Jubilee’s tone softened. “Brak, do you promise nothing happened with you and her?”

  “I promise.”

  She hugged his waist and snuggled into his back. “I’m glad you’re still Brak, Brak.”

  “Me too, I suppose.”

  And that’s assuming fornication means what I think it means.

  ***

  “It’s breathtaking,” Fogle said. He barely found his voice to find the words. The southern edge of the Red Clay Forest was layered with beauty. The trees were not gigantic like the ones in the Great Forest of Bish, but of a smaller, more colorful variety. The bark was red, white, and brown. The bushes and trees had a variety of leaves ranging from golden in color to blue as a new moon. “I find it hard to believe anything dangerous lives in there. Have you ever been inside?” he said to Jarla.

  She didn’t reply.

  Slim said, “They say if she doesn’t accept you, she will take you.”

  “Who is she?” Jubilee asked.

  “That’s just what they call the forest, a she,” Slim replied cheerfully. “I’v
e been here several times. Not with ogres or Jarla, but good people die in there as often as the bad. It’s hard to say.”

  “I’m not waiting on an invitation.” Jarla and Nightmare trotted into the edge of the forest and vanished.

  Fogle went in after Jarla, saying, “There are worse-looking places to die than this. Let’s go. ”

  CHAPTER 36

  “You want a feast of steel, I’ll give you a feast of steel!” A man possessed, Venir split the skull of the first underling that crawled up on the ledge. Atop the pinnacle of rock, he ran back and forth, chopping away at the swarm of fiends invading his hill.

  Slice! Slice! Stab!

  Underlings tumbled down the rocky spire, missing limbs and gored. Their furry black bodies collided with the rest of their brood, who nevertheless kept climbing up the rocks like worker ants. Curved swords in hand, a pair of them slid up on the other side of the landing and rushed at Venir.

  With Helm’s eyes in the back of his head, the Darkslayer turned at the last second and gored the first one on the chest with Brool’s spike. He flicked it over the precipice like a wild ape flinging dung. “Spit on you, fiend!”

  The second underling stabbed at him.

  Venir kicked it in the backside, swatted the sword away with the cheek of his axe, and sent the fiend flying over the rim. Helm could sense them all, their hatred.

  They came at him like a pack of starving wolves. A ravenous look was in their gemstone eyes.

  Venir’s iron limbs got to work.

  Slice!

  An underling lost its head.

  Rip!

  Brool tore through the bones of an underling’s chest.

  Chop!

  Venir whacked an underling clear through the knee.

  The rocky spire became a bloody gore-coated ornament in the sky, and with his blood rushing through his veins like fire up a haystack, Venir tore the underlings apart like a tornado inside a barn. As soon as one underling crested the rock, Venir was there, splintering its skull. Shield on his back, he kicked, punched, hacked, and chopped. His fury was savage. Unrelenting.