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

by Craig Halloran

  “Do I have to slaughter all of these greasy devils myself?” she cried.

  “Fight or die!” Brak roared. His sword knocked a charging underling’s weapon aside. The little fiend snaked under his swing and stabbed him in the side. “Aargh!” Brak gave a backswing, pommel first. He caught the underling in the temple, crushing the bone behind the eye socket. The underling staggered over the sand. Nightmare galloped over it.

  “There are too many!” Jarla yelled. She slung blood from her sword and pointed. “Flee for the rocks! There! Move, you fools! Move!”

  A handful of underlings were dead, but the rest of them descended, brandishing steel at Jarla and Nightmare. She and the warhorse were one. They fended off attack after attack.

  Brak backed out of the slaughter, protecting Jubilee and Fogle. Slim still sagged over the ogres. “Jarla, come on! You can’t fight them all!”

  “The Bish I can’t!”

  A black shadow fell over the fracas. The bloodthirsty underlings gave pause.

  Head to the sky, Fogle whispered, “Son of a Bish.”

  Wump. Wump. Wump. A black dragon with great wings lifting a hulking frame of scales landed in their midst. With a gleam in its yellow eyes and tongue flicking from its mouth, it opened its massive jaws wide and let out a roar.

  Jubilee fell to her knees, covering her ears and screaming, “Make it stop! Make it stop!”

  Brak’s limbs froze. The dragon’s bellow finished. For a moment that seemed suspended in time, no one—man or underling—moved.

  Then Jarla’s sword arm came to life. The black weapon clipped a gaping underling’s head from its shoulders. As blood spit from its neck, the hardened fiends, at a chittering command, rushed the dragon. Orange flames hotter than a blacksmith’s forge gushed from the dragon’s mouth, engulfing the oncoming underlings.

  The hair on Brak’s arms curled. He backed away. Jarla and Nightmare trotted from the deadly fire’s path.

  The underlings burned from head to toe, screaming as flesh melted from bone. The ground remained on fire as the greasy black blood burned like spilled oil.

  Brak plowed into a pair of underlings that were hacking at the dragon’s scales. He mowed them both down with haymaker chops, shearing one underling’s arm at the shoulder and splitting the other underling’s skull.

  The dragon swung its massive head around, knocking Brak from his feet. Its paw pinned Brak to the ground. The heat from the beast’s breath seemed to burn Brak’s skin. It glowered at Brak. He fought against the monster’s power, pushing up with all of his might. He swore the dragon chuckled just before it opened up its mouth, preparing to swallow him whole.

  Brak turned his cheek. The dragon licked it.

  CHAPTER 32

  Two figures slid off the dragon’s back. One was a bald old man who hit the sand and fell to his hands and knees as he kissed the dirt. The other was a woman with hair like gossamer that hung over her shoulders. Her pale-white skin seemed translucent. Her fine features were as radiant as the clouds. She stood firm with small fists on her ample hips and a smile on her soft pink lips. Dressed in scanty, casual cotton garb, she said with a purr in her voice, “Fogle Virgin, have you missed me?”

  The pain in Fogle’s shoulder ceased. His fingertips were numb. Hot blood coursed through his body. In awe, he said, “Cass.”

  She seemed to float as she approached. Draping her arms around his neck, she kissed him full on the lips. Her body melted into his. She reeled him in tight. He grunted, and she broke off the lusty kiss. “Am I hurting you?”

  Finding his breath, he said, “No, but this thing in my shoulder’s ruining the moment.”

  “This thing?” She grabbed the bolt and yanked it out.

  “Ow!” He wavered.

  “Oh, don’t be such a child. It’s just a little thing.” Placing her hand on his chest, she said, “You make it sound like I ripped your sweet little heart out.”

  “I survived your sudden departure,” he said, resting his hand on hers, “but it wasn’t easy.”

  “Oh, your clever little tongue is melting me. You spin the words of a more seasoned man. I wonder.” Cass swung her head around. Everyone had gathered around, from the newcomer—Boon—to Slim, whose eyes clung to Cass’s figure like sap to a tree. Her eyes landed on Jarla, who stuffed her bloody sword into her sheath. She gave a disapproving snort. “You’ve been fornicating with this dark witch, haven’t you, Fogle?”

  In a husky tone, Jarla said, “I don’t know if you could call it that.”

  Cass chuckled. “Hmmm, I like her.”

  “Great, so are you leaving Blackie for her now? That would be entertaining,” Fogle said. “I wonder if the dragon can feel that same heart-wrenching pain that I did.”

  Blackie’s tail flipped sand Fogle’s way.

  “Jealously. I like that,” Cass said. “No, Fogle dear, she’s not my type. I have to admit I missed your thoughtful demeanor. As for Blackie, well, we aren’t getting along so well right now.”

  “Really? Why is that?”

  “He’s not listening to me.”

  “Heh-heh.” Boon chuckled as he approached his grandson. “There’s no better way to drive a woman crazy.” He reached over, clasping Fogle by the forearm. “Please tell me you have the book.”

  “It’s good to see you too.”

  “Don’t be so sappy. I was dead less than a day or two ago. Let me say, there is nothing like living and breathing.” He gave Jarla a heavy look. His voice was raspy. “Accept living and breathing with a fine specimen of a woman. Say, grandson”—he nudged Fogle in the ribs—“tell me it’s so.”

  Fogle cracked a smile. “A wizard never tells.”

  “Hah, now I know you lie. So the spell book. Do you have it?”

  “I do have my spell book. Why?”

  “Aside from the fact that I have no magic at all within me, there are some other needs that have come up.” He searched Fogle with his eyes. “Where is it?”

  “Take a breath. I think many of us would like to get stitched up first.” Fogle noticed Brak down on one knee, tending to the darts lodged in Jubilee’s legs. Jarla dressed some cuts on Nightmare’s flank.

  Great, just great. She’s into everyone. Wincing, Fogle pulled his robes off and checked his own wound. His left arm throbbed all the way down to the fingertips. They were stiff. His eyes widened. “Bloody things are poisoned.” He said it, but his thickening tongue didn’t produce the words. Garble came out.

  “What was that?” Boon asked.

  Fogle’s entire body became rigid. He couldn’t even blink. All he could feel was the sun beating down on his body.

  Boon fanned his hand in front of Fogle’s face. “You’re paralyzed. Perfect—you look like you need the rest. You do that while I charge up with the spell book.”

  ***

  The suns fell and rose before Fogle moved again. His muscles felt as if they weighed a ton. He moved with a stiff gait toward Cass. She stood away from the others, gazing at the rising suns. Boon was nowhere to be found. The others were still sleeping, aside from Jarla, who sharpened her sword and dagger.

  Fogle startled Cass when he strained to say, with a stiff jaw, “How have you been?”

  She turned to him, checking his shoulder for the wound that she’d patched. Looking away, she replied, “You trouble me, Fogle.”

  “Oh, why is that?”

  “Because I thought of you.”

  “And that’s bad?”

  “It is for me. I’m not used to having an attachment to anyone.”

  “If it helps, I’ve never had an affection so strong for anyone, either. The truth is I’ve never been so close to anyone until my world collided with the likes of them.” He gestured toward the others with his head. “But none of them ever compared to you.”

  “Someone is feeling spry, isn’t he?”

  “It’s you. Would you expect otherwise?”

  Her warm smile cooled. “You’re trying to seduce me.”

  “
No, I know better than that.” He gave Blackie a look. The dragon lay on the ground, curled up with his tail wound around him. One eye was open and fixed on Fogle. He had no doubt that the dragon heard and understood every word that he said. “Besides, you’re spoken for.”

  “True, I am.” She twirled her hair around her finger. “Blackie’s so amazing.”

  Fogle didn’t try to hide his frown. “I understand.” His legs tingling with the new sensation of blood flowing through them, he began to walk away.

  Cass caught him by the arm. “Fogle, I adore Blackie as a creature of this world. I admire the living things so much more than the races. But I’m not such a freak that I hope to lay dragon’s eggs one day.” She pressed her exotic little frame into his. “The truth is that one of the reasons that I left you as I did was because I never met a man I was as fond of as you. It scared me.”

  Feeling his heart begin to lift him from his toes, he reeled himself in.

  Boon’s voice overpowered the rising dawn. “Now I’m feeling better!” With the spell book tucked inside his arm and the everlasting fire in his eyes returned, the old mage seemed to crackle with energy. “It’s time to scrape the black scum from Bish forever!”

  CHAPTER 33

  Venir and Melegal sat inside the tavern beside the fireplace, arguing as fiercely as ever. Altan Rey had departed with his companion to one of the rooms upstairs. The mage was going to resume his underling form. That was where things became dicey.

  “You’ve taken too many blows to the head, Venir,” the thief argued. “You think you can fight your way up to the top and behead the leader. It won’t be so simple. It never is. We aren’t here for that. We have a mission.”

  Venir teetered on the back two legs of his chair. “You sound like a soldier. I like it. I knew I’d rub off on you someday.”

  “Pah! And now you want to jest. Have you forgotten that Kam and Mood are counting on you? You can’t do this by yourself no matter how big your axe and ego are.”

  “You can get the west gate open.”

  “Over a hundred underlings man it. Look at us—it’s only five of us against all of them.”

  “We have allies. Altan Rey assured us of that.”

  Melegal leaned forward with his fists on the table. “You don’t fully trust that royal, do you? Certainly, you know better than that. If you press that man enough, he’ll go flat. They always do.”

  “I don’t know. I have a feeling about him.” Venir dropped his chair on all four legs. On the table steamed a mug of coffee that Jasper had poured for them moments before. It had been so long since he’d had good coffee. The brew stung his lip when he sipped. “Ah. Now that’s what I call roasted.”

  “Your wits are roasted.” Melegal took out a thumb knife and carved on the table. “And what are you going to do when they pit you against other men? Huh? Are you going to butcher your own blood too?”

  Venir’s brow furrowed. “I hadn’t considered that.”

  “Of course not. You’re an oaf. You swing first and question the corpses later.” Out of nowhere, a huge black cat hopped up on the table. “Octopus!” The mangy feline’s supine muscles rippled as he purred. Smoky, unseeing eyes scanned Melegal’s face. His whiskers brushed against Melegal’s chin. The thief scratched the big, eight-clawed cat behind the ears. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Octopus lay down on the table. Purring like a tiny thunderstorm, the black cat closed his eyes as Melegal rubbed his head.

  “You should take a lesson from your cat, Melegal. If he’s not worried, then perhaps you shouldn’t be so worried, either.”

  “I never worry.”

  “Hah.” Venir gave Melegal’s words some more serious thought. The thief was right. He couldn’t abandon one plan for another one. The goal was to get the gate open, but with hundreds of underlings in the way, not counting the forces that would rally around them, the task might be impossible. Besides, the steel gates of the portcullis were huge. It took two men to work the mechanisms that lifted the forty-foot wall of steel from both sides. The ramparts on the upper walls of the castle were heavily guarded by men and underlings. Still, Venir wanted a closer look.

  Hitching his arms over the back of his chair, he checked out Hoff, Nikkel, and Billip. The men began to stir. “I’d say that their heads will be aching for a while once they come to.” He reached down and grabbed his pack. “Perhaps it’s time to go for a stroll.”

  Melegal’s brows knitted. “Your legendary strolls sometimes take years.”

  “I’ll be right back.” Venir removed the mystic sack from the pack. One by one, he removed the three elements of the armament, setting the helm on the table last. Octopus rolled toward it. The cat petted the helmet with his paw. “Your little kitten has a good sense of character.”

  “The cat’s blind. He doesn’t know any better.” Melegal pulled the cat toward him. “But I do.”

  “I thought you’d finally succumbed to my character.” Holding Brool by the haft, tip toward the rafters, Venir spun the axe in his hand. “I have to do what I have to do. It’s what we are here for. Keep an eye on things. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  “Bish, no.” Melegal rose from his chair. “I’ll be your shadow.”

  Jasper made her way over to the table. “You aren’t leaving me.”

  “See, someone needs to stay back and protect the women and kittens.” Venir was up on his feet, adjusting his girdle. “You’re the perfect rogue for the job.”

  “No, I’m going, dear.” Melegal patted Jasper on the rump and kissed her cheek. “No worries. Octopus will protect you.”

  “The underlings can’t see me with this getup on,” Venir said.

  “Lucky for them. Too bad I don’t have the same problem. Heh, they won’t see me, either, if I’m hiding behind you.” He adjusted his cap. “I can handle myself. Besides, I know a better way to the western wall.”

  “It’s a long walk, and since when are you so willing to engage with the underlings?”

  “Since they didn’t give me a choice.” Melegal made his way over to the door. “After you.”

  CHAPTER 34

  “You are mad,” Fogle said to Boon. Everyone had gathered around the mages and was listening to the heated discussion. Boon was adamant. Fogle couldn’t disagree more with what the mage had to say. “We aren’t going into the Underland. It’s suicide.”

  “You don’t know that,” Boon said. “I’m telling you they are exposed. The very heart of them. They’ve sent all of their forces to the surface. Their homeland has no defense. Their armies are gathered on the surface.”

  “You couldn’t possibly know how many of them lie within. Besides, there are only a few of us.” Fogle paced back and forth with his hands waving at his sides. “We aren’t an army. We are going to Bone, period.” Shaking his head, he added, “You just came back from the dead, and you want to go visit it again. Certainly, you have a better idea than this.”

  With his fist clenched in the air, Boon said, “I’m telling you that this will be the end of them. One crack in their sunken seams, and they will be wiped out. We can choke them off from their supplies.”

  “They’ve usurped the supplies of the land above, Boon. They have all they need so long as men continue to cower. I’m not stopping you, but you aren’t going anywhere with my spell book.” He stretched out his hand. “You’ve got what you need. Hand it over.”

  Boon clung to the book. “Certainly you wouldn’t separate a withering old man from some light reading material.” He caressed the book. “I wrote most of it.”

  “Hand it over.”

  “Let me show you one thing first.” Boon opened up the leather-bound tome. “Come, look, look.”

  Fogle studied the pages as Boon’s fingers caressed the words of a very powerful and lengthy spell. Boon flipped through the pages. He was practically drooling. The old mage said, “If we cast a tremor such as this in the right place, the entire Underland will cave in. It will be nothing less. The underground
is the source of their power.”

  Fogle nodded. What Boon was offering made plenty of sense. “I don’t think you’re going to get many volunteers aside from yourself.”

  “I can handle it myself if that’s the only choice that I have.” Boon flipped a page. He gasped. “What in the infernos is this?”

  Fogle leaned over the book. The next page to the spell was missing. “Oh, about that. I had a run-in with an old ally of mine. He destroyed a few pages.”

  Boon leafed through the pages. “A few!”

  Fogle shrugged. The tightness in his chest subsided. He did the best he could to hide his relief. Maybe Boon’s plan would have worked, but he had no desire to see the Underland. Slapping his bewildered grandfather on the shoulder, he said, “Looks like we’ll be spending the next few days together.”

  “No, no, no!” Boon’s grim expression changed. “I have another idea.”

  ***

  Brak sat on the ground. Jubilee lay in his lap, rubbing the wounds on his legs. He rubbed his eyes and yawned.

  “What’s the matter, Brak? You’re awfully quiet this morning.”

  “I’m always quiet.”

  “It’s more daunting this time around. What’s going on inside that great skull of yours?”

  “I dreamed of my father.”

  She twisted her head around and searched his eyes. “And?”

  “I saw metal jaws swallowing him up. It seemed so real.” His stomach rumbled.

  Jubilee quickly sat up. “It sounds like you’re about to swallow me whole. We better find you something to eat. Slim, Brak’s hungry.”

  The lanky cleric sauntered over with a husk from a cactus. The needles were cleaned off of the plant. “Chew this. It tastes horrible, but it’s better than eating your fellow man.”

  “I’ll pass. I can handle it.” Brak got up. He walked toward the dragon. The big black thing lay on the ground like a humongous dog. It reminded him of Chongo. The druid woman Cass was lying against the beast. Her pretty eyes found Brak. She waved him over.