“Throw him the rope!” Jubilee screamed.
“Jarla! What are you doing?” Fogle added. “Throw him the rope!”
“I’m thinking,” she said.
Slim said, “Stop thinking, and start acting. Do this, and you’ll regret it.”
The quicksand covered Brak’s mouth. He and the horse were up to their nostrils. He could barely make out Jarla out of the corner of his eye. Please! Please! Please! He couldn’t imagine a worse way to go.
Jarla slung the rope over to him. Brak’s hands snagged it. He pulled his chin from the waters. Fishing through the slime, he tied a knot on the saddle horn. “Pull!”
Nightmare surged forward again. Man and beast eased through the soppy grime. The sinking horse’s feet found footing on the pit’s edge. She surged out of the quicksand and up onto dry land. Brak crawled out, mud coated and sucking for air. He kissed the ground.
Storming over to Jarla, Fogle said, “What in Bish was that all about?”
With a coy smile on her lips, she said, “I was curious to see if he was as resourceful as his father. Clearly, he is not.”
“He’s still a boy!” Jubilee said, fists clenched at her sides. “If you ever hurt him, I’ll kill you.”
Jarla laughed. “Says the little lioness. I don’t think so.” She turned her horse away. “Gather yourselves. The danger is past. Now it’s time to break free of the wretched limbs of this forest.”
The chittering sounds of nature and the humming of bugs quieted. The gentle breeze became stale. Another odor caught Brak’s nose.
Sniffing, Jubilee said, “What’s that smell? Brak?”
“It wasn’t me,” he said.
A whoosh rustled the colorful leaves. Hooded men in ruddy robes swooped in from all directions. Brak’s group was surrounded.
CHAPTER 2
“There’s a sea of them,” Mood said. The king of the Blood Rangers puffed on a cigar. He knitted his bushy brows that almost hid his emerald eyes. Blowing an oval ring of smoke, he slapped Venir on the back. “Well, what are you waiting for? Put that metal basket on and get to it.”
The small group of formidable men was nestled in the busted rocks of the hillside two days west of the City of Bone. The spot overlooked a nasty stretch of wasteland with more dirt than sand as far as the eye could see. Billip and Nikkel were with them. Their eyes were bigger than the rocks that surrounded them.
“And I thought that last horde would be the biggest I ever saw.” Billip popped his knuckles one at a time. “I’ve never seen so many people gathered in one place.”
“You haven’t?” Nikkel said. His smile vanished. “Certainly there are more men than them. Aren’t there?”
With one knee perched on the rocks, Venir leaned forward. He shared his friends’ concerns. He’d fought underlings by the bunches over the years. He’d hewn the black fiends down one, two, sometimes three at a time. In the last battle, he’d fought the most underlings ever—at least five thousand of them. But at the moment, there were ten times that number down below.
Venir lifted up his helmet. “The sooner we start, the better.”
Billip pushed down his arm. “No, no, no, no. We’re going to need a little more help than that.”
“Mood has plenty of kin to throw into the fray. We can handle it.” Venir grinned. “Are you in or not?”
Scratching his head, Billip replied, “Jesting aside, how are we going to deal with this? I have as much faith in a few thousand dwarves as anyone does, but there must be fifty thousand underlings down there. Where in Bish are we going to gather an army to match that size, and who’s to say there aren’t more of them?”
“I think somebody should have stayed back with the ladies.” Nikkel’s broad smile returned. “You worry like an old hag.”
“Says the young trooper full of guff. Mikkel would be proud,” Billip said. “I’ll worry all I want about my own arse, and you can worry about yours. If you’re so eager to join your father, then go right ahead.”
“Once you’re dead, you won’t have anything to worry about anymore, will ya?” Mood said.
“I’m all for fighting,” Billip said. “I’d just like to see the odds stacked a little better in our favor. Is that so bad?”
Mood shrugged his brawny shoulders. “Some like a challenge, and some don’t.”
Nikkel chuckled. Venir did too. He set his helmet aside and took a seat on the rocks.
The underling establishment was more of a city than a camp. There were tents, a rich maroon in color, side by side in straight, endless rows. The underling soldiers were like a wave of black ants that scoured the dusty ground. Their sharpened black steel shone in the two suns’ hot light. Banners waved on the corners of the bigger tents, which were black intermingled with brilliant colors. It was a terrifying army that had awakened from the grave. It was death, a plague. The skilled and skittering underlings were surrounded by the fallen. The bodies of dead men and women surrounded the underling camp in a wall of rotting flesh skewered on long poles.
Venir’s nostrils flared. Sweat dripped off of his nose. He thought he’d seen every perversion the underlings could muster since he was a boy, but they always came up with something new. The fiends mutilated people. They found glee in it. They were pure evil. With a shrug, he said, “Perhaps Bish will swallow them.”
With a grumble, Mood replied, “I’ve seen that before, only to see the dirt spit them out again. If we ever get another chance, I say we seal them inside their holes.”
“I like that idea,” Billip said.
“It’s been talked about, just never done. No certainty that it would work, either.” Mood sucked heavily on his cigar. “The leaf is good. Always good.”
“I’m surprised they haven’t come this way. You’d think they’d be curious as to what had befallen the horde we slaughtered.” Venir toyed with the handle on his knife. “They value their own. That’s all they value.”
“Perhaps there are so many they don’t feel the need for worry,” Nikkel said. “Unlike Billip.”
“I’m not a worrier. I’m just concerned. Can we move on?”
“I’d like to think you’re right, Nikkel, but that’s not their way. If we take one of them, they’ll want ten of ours.” Venir slid his long hunting knife from his belt. “I happened across a camp where thirty people had been buried alive. Some of them were skinned head to toe first. Others burned. They hung the charred meat on sticks. A feast for the crows.”
Nikkel’s face soured.
“No,” Venir said. “Something brews in their wicked minds. That’s why we need to keep an eye on them. Mood, perhaps we should move our forces out of harm’s way. A little farther northeast.”
“I like going forward, not backward,” Mood replied.
“It would be a lateral move,” Venir added.
“Perhaps.”
“So what are we going to do?” Nikkel asked.
“There’s always more than one way to attack,” Venir said. “We have to plan and be patient.”
Billip huffed. “You?”
“Me.”
“And I’ll believe that when there’s only one sun setting in the sky.” Billip shifted his quiver on his shoulder, rattling the arrows. He wiped his arm over his sweaty brow. “I’m in the mood for some dwarven mead. Let’s hope not all of the keg barrels have been emptied. Coming?”
“I’ll be along.” Venir’s gaze remained fixed on the underlings.
“I’ll stay a bit myself,” Mood added.
“Good. You never know when he might run away. Come on, Nikkel.” Walking backward, the archer said, “And don’t think if there’s ale left that I’ll spare you any.”
“Venir, you brood like a wolf that starves and cannot eat.” Mood passed him the cigar. “What are you thinking?”
Venir took the cigar between his fingers and gave it a puff. “This fight will never end, will it?”
“You’ll always be fighting so long as you’re on Bish. No fault in wanting to w
ipe out that scourge down there, though.” Mood took back the cigar. “Question is the same as always. How do we wipe them off the map once and for all?”
“We just need to kill them faster than they can breed.”
CHAPTER 3
Snuggled in behind Jasper, Melegal twirled his finger in her hair. “Your locks are thickening like the feathers of a raven.” He gave her shoulder a little bite. “I like it.”
“Don’t remind me.” She yawned. “All it does is catch more dust. As if my body wasn’t coated in enough of it.” She squirmed out of the bedroll. Her head hit the top of the small tent they were crammed in. Warm dew dropped into her eye. “Ew! It’s sweltering in here. It’s beyond sweltering.”
Stretching out his long, slender limbs as best he could, Melegal said, “We needed privacy. One has to sacrifice comfort when one is in the company of a dwarven army.”
“You mean you wanted privacy,” Jasper fired back.
“Well, I didn’t think you’d want to have our affection out on public display. You might find it awkward, although it’s fine with me.”
She kicked at him. “You rotten little pervert. That’s not what I meant. This is easy for you, the one who does not sweat.”
“It is one of my many gifts, I suppose.” He traced her naked back with his fingers then wriggled them. “Ew. That really is gross.”
“Shut your mouth hole.” She grinned a little and lay down by his side. “You didn’t seem to notice earlier.”
Eyeing Jasper’s nubile figure, he said, “That’s because my thoughts were elsewhere.”
She rolled her eyes. “Your thoughts are always elsewhere.”
“True. True enough.”
“Honestly, who copulates at a time and in a place like this? It’s miserable. Only men can find the most inconvenient times and uncomfortable places to express their urges.”
“You didn’t resist. As I recall, you said, let’s go—”
“I know what I said. Oh, never mind. I’m getting some fresh air. At least the moons offer light that won’t set your head on fire.” She started to crawl away.
Melegal caught her by the ankle and drew her in. “Wait a moment.”
“No, I know what you’re trying to do. I need some space.”
He kissed her.
She resisted. “You have horrible timing.”
Melegal’s fingers found their way around her waist and massaged the small of her back. As Melegal continued the long kiss, Jasper’s body began to yield. Her supple limbs merged with his. He pulled her back on top of him. Gently, he caressed her arms with the backs of his fingernails. In her ear, he said, “One more time.”
She shivered. Goose bumps rose on her arms. “You know I can’t resist that.”
CHAPTER 4
Melegal eased out of the pup tent. The first rising sun glared in his eyes. He placed his cap on his head and shielded his eyes. His vision adjusted. A mill of dwarven activity surrounded the small tent. The durable men ripped tent stakes out of the ground with their bare hands. They neatly folded the canvas and packed it into bags.
The yawn of a big dog caught Melegal’s ear. Chongo lay between his tent and another that hadn’t been there the day before.
“Have you been there all night?”
Chongo shook his ears.
Melegal petted both of the dog’s heads just above the bridges of his noses. “I’m not used to it being you and no Venir.”
While Venir scouted ahead with the others, he left the big dog behind. The warrior was very protective when it came to Kam and Erin.
Jasper popped her head out of the tent. “What’s going on?”
“It looks like we’re moving out.”
“Where?”
“Does it matter?”
She shrugged her narrow shoulders and slipped out. Her dark sorceress garments had been enhanced with some dwarven leather that now covered most of her arms and legs. She had a dagger tucked inside her belt.
With a lift of his brows, he said, “You’re looking mighty dangerous for a little thing.”
“Don’t be getting any ideas.” She rubbed her back. “I’m sore enough. I need to stretch.”
“Heh-heh,” he said.
“Don’t flatter yourself. Sleeping in there is like being crammed in a foxhole.”
A knot of dwarves walked past, chuckling. Melegal could see some playfulness in their grim faces. Twisting from side to side, he said, “If you say so, but I never get stiff.”
“Excuse me?”
“You know what I mean.”
“We all know what you mean.” Kam emerged from the tent next to theirs with Erin by her side, clinging to her knee. Kam’s wavy locks of red hair hung over her shoulder in a ponytail. “The entire camp knows what you mean. Everything was quiet in the camp last night aside from the two of you.”
“Sounds like Venir didn’t make it home last night.” Jasper nudged Melegal with her elbow and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be back.”
Kam made her way over and stood eye to eye with Melegal. “The pair of you seem to be getting awfully cozy.”
“War makes her an excellent bedmate.” He dropped to his knee. “Hi, Erin.”
The toddler’s little hands pinched at his cheeks. Erin giggled. “Crow. Crow.”
“What does that mean?” he said.
Kam shrugged. “I don’t know. She picks things up from the dwarves. Who knows—before long, she might be speaking Dwarven.” She scanned the bustling activity. “So you haven’t seen Venir?”
He caught a glimpse of Chongo. “I guess he’s not here—yet. I’ll go take a look around.”
“I’ll go too.”
They hadn’t made it ten steps before a pair of black-bearded dwarves in scale-mail vests started breaking down their tents.
“At least they’re including us.” Melegal adjusted the dart launchers on his wrist. One of the darts snagged on his sleeve. “That’s better.”
Side by side, he and Kam walked with Erin between them. Kam’s head turned this way and that as if it were on a swivel. The three of them had to stop often. The dwarves, a hive of activity, moved at a brisk pace, saying in Dwarven, “Coming through.” The stout men didn’t slow, either.
“I feel like a round peg in a square hole,” Melegal said.
“Huh? Oh.” Kam’s eyes lit up. She grabbed Melegal by the shirt. “There’s Billip. Come on.”
Billip and Nikkel were sitting on the back of a wagon. Each held his head in his hands. Nikkel moaned. “Oh, it hurts. It hurts when I move my eyes. Make the pounding stop.”
“Stop talking,” Billip said, teetering in his seat. “You’re making it worse.”
Both men reeked of dwarven mead.
“What did you two fools get into last night?” Kam picked up Erin and put her on her hip. “And where is Venir? Is he another drunken sot?”
“Please,” Nikkel said weakly, “stop yelling.”
“I’m not yelling!”
Covering his ears, Nikkel curled up in a fetal position in the back of the wagon.
Kam opened up her mouth to speak. Billip cut her off with a flimsy wave of his hand. “I’ll explain. To your first question—we got into a drinking contest with the dwarves, and I’m pretty sure we lost. To the second—I have no idea where Venir is. He and Mood were spying on the underling army.”
“What underling army?” Kam said with intent.
“Oops. I’m kinda vague as to whether or not I should have mentioned that.”
Something stuck itself in Melegal’s craw. Stepping forward, he said, “Are we running?”
“We should be.”
He found Kam’s emerald eyes searching his. What in Bish would cause a dwarven army to turn tail? “Are there more of them than the dwarves?”
“An army at least five times the size of ours.”
“Are we going to engage?”
“No, I suppose that’s why we’re moving.”
“Has Venir engaged?” Kam asked.
Billip huffed. “Not yet.”
“The lout probably has them chasing after us.” Melegal frowned. “Perhaps we should get going. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if they started popping out of the ground at any moment.”
CHAPTER 5
“Isn’t this a delightful situation?” Jarla’s hands were bound up over her head by vines that burst from the cavern’s wall. The cavern was lit by smashed juices of the giant light bugs’ sacks that were stuck on the walls.
Every one of them was bound up in a similar fashion. The ogres were back to back, completely wound up like a ball of twine. The same went for Jubilee, Brak, Slim, and Fogle.
Agitated, Fogle said, “You’re as much to blame as anyone. You’re the one that wanted to come in the forest. I wanted to try the Mist.”
“My, how your flirtations have changed, wizard,” Jarla said. “I think the next time it happens, I might just kill you in your sleep.”
Wrestling with his bonds, Fogle said, “Given the circumstances, I look forward to it.”
Things had gone quickly awry after they were surrounded. The forest came to life, entangling everyone—man, ogre, and horse. The foliage covered them in a suffocating fashion. Fogle remembered blacking out and awakening in the heart of a deep, dank cave. That had been at least a day earlier.
The ogres’ bellies groaned. It sounded like a bear yawning after months of a hibernating slumber. The monstrous pair whimpered, casting heavy looks at Slim. The group had been fed next to nothing and only given water by some of the forest magi who wandered in from time to time.
Fogle had drawn that conclusion based on tidbits he’d heard from Georgio and Venir. The ragged magi—men, judging from all appearances—couldn’t be anything else. They must be those forest magi I’ve heard about. But how do they float? Fogle did find himself somewhat envious of the magi because they floated, much like the underlings, most of the time. They didn’t seem to carry much power, but he wondered how they moved like that. Even if he were to cast a floating spell, he didn’t have the power to stay that way all of the time.
The Darkslayer: Bish and Bone Series Collector's Edition (Books 1-10): Sword and Sorcery Masterpieces Page 84
