Melegal’s nimble fingers worked through the bonds that tied his hands behind his back. He had enough slack to jerk them free. That was the first step. But he was still outnumbered one hundred to one. He could try to free himself from the noose, but the underlings who captured him before had crossbows trained on him. They’d fill him with enough wooden shafts to start a bonfire.
If I had a chance to do things differently, what would I change?
He wasn’t going to die blaming Venir. He’d had a chance to back out. Bish didn’t give any man that many choices either. It was fight or die. Now, it appeared, Bish had finally brought him to the end of his rope.
I suppose it’s fitting to go down like this.
The underling executioner pumped his arms, beat his chest, and grabbed the lever.
The flock of evil cackled with glee.
“I will miss you, Gruesome,” Sanny managed to choke out. “I hope we are buried together. I’ll keep you warm forever.”
“I suppose that’s better than the flies,” he mused. All of the treacherous adventures of his past washed through him. He started laughing. “Heh-heh. Fine, have at me, underlings,” he managed to yell. He caught their attention, including the executioner. He laughed harder. “You might kill me, but I promise you this, the Darkslayer is going to kill all of you! So eat slat, you two-legged arseholes!”
The executioner ripped back the gallows lever. The floor dropped from underneath all of their feet. The noose tightened on Melegal’s neck for a split second. He jerked for a moment, wrenching his neck. There was a snap. His feet hit the ground hard. He rolled onto his backside. The hanging rope lay on the ground with a neat cut through it.
Bish me!
“Stop gawking and get your arse down here!” a voice shouted out from the open face of a storm grate.
Melegal dove for the opening. Underling crossbows rocked to life. Bolts zinged over his shoulders. He squeezed into the narrow opening and pushed through into the pitch-black sewer tunnel. A howl of rage rose up from the underlings.
A husky voice echoed down the dark pipe. “This way, fool!”
Melegal crawled through the pipe like a fleeing rat. Behind him, underlings screeched. They slid through the grate into the sewer and chased him.
“Hurry up, you skinny idiot!”
Melegal took after the voice. The sewer pipe bent, dropped downward and into a larger pipe. He passed from pipe to pipe. Strong hands hurried him through. “Faster, moron. Do you want them to catch you?” A metal grate smashed shut.
The person talking to Melegal locked the grate with something. Underlings slammed into the closed grate.
Melegal was shoved in the back.
“Go, fool! Go!” the voice said. “They’ll find a way through that soon enough.”
Melegal hustled along. His eyes started to adjust. The daylight crept through the storm grates in the alleys above.
“Go left.”
He went left at the next turn in the pipe.
“Go right, then left.”
He followed the directions for several minutes, not slowing a step. The sound of pursuing underlings was long gone. The person helping him panted.
“You can slow up. The next bend and we’ll be safe. See the light?”
“Aye.” He entered a cove. The smell of fresh water hit his nostrils. The guts of cave fireflies were smeared on the walls, giving the alcove a green glow.
His helper closed a door behind them, locking them inside with a full steel door. A spring of water burbled in the middle. Another person stirred in the room, half hidden in the shadows of this long-forgotten underground sanctuary. His liberator ambled over to the spring of water and sucked it up. Finally, in a husky voice that was no longer dry, the woman said, “Where’s Haze?”
CHAPTER 26
Venir and Creed were shackled from their necks to their ankles. A troupe of underlings, including the jailer, led them to an underground concourse that ran from one castle to another. Venir had some familiarity with the old tunnel network from when he was a boy. Royals had kept the networks up in case the citizens rose up, but that hadn’t happened in centuries. As he understood it, not all of the castles used them, but some did from alliances long ago. Many were used for escape, others for trading and hiding.
Now the underlings made use of the ancient tunnels. They were nothing more than straightaways, marred with cobwebs, scurrying rodents, and falling debris from the rafters that held the ceiling.
Shoulder to shoulder, Venir and Creed moved. If Venir had to guess, he’d assume they’d crossed the length of three castles judging by the intersections. Finally, they made their way up to the ground level of a castle. They crossed a long courtyard. Royal soldiers hung from nooses among the long-dead flowers. The banner of the Kling household lay on the ground. The wind picked up the bloody banner and carried it away.
A hundred underlings guarded the outer ramparts and inner archway. They spit on Venir and Creed when they passed underneath them. The jailer met up with Kazzar in a common area, where guests waited before they entered the castle.
Kazzar spoke to the jailer in Underling. There was an exchange of hands, and coins vanished into fingers. The jailer and his troupe of underlings departed. That left Venir and Creed standing alone with Kazzar. “Don’t say anything, either of you. Be silent.”
Venir didn’t speak, nor did Creed.
Underlings in full suits of chain-mail armor from the neck collar down over their thighs accompanied Kazzar and the prisoner through the castle’s inner roadway toward the back end that faced the castle’s outer wall. Venir had an inward smile. Castle Kling was on the west gate side of the city.
There was a stone-and-mortar building nestled against the perimeter wall away from the castle. Gray-white paint peeled from the walls. Many of the red clay shingles were busted and cracked. Several soldiers, men, were stationed outside. Their faces were sunken and their chins cast down.
Venir and Creed were taken inside the building. Large cages filled with hard-eyed men, soldiers, fighters, possibly royals covered the walls. They all crouched or sat in cages made for dogs, not men. In some cases there were two or three men crammed inside one. The men’s faces were oily, sweating, and greasy. Their eyes latched onto Venir and Creed.
“Welcome to the Huddle,” a man said. He had a gravelly voice and a bad eye. “You have to bark for them to feed you.” He bayed like a wolf.
An underling soldier poked the butt of its spear into the man’s choke, cutting off the howl. The man groaned as he clutched his belly and crawled against the back end of the cage.
A cage was opened up. “Get inside, both of you,” Kazzar said. Venir glared at the man transformed into an underling. “Don’t make a show if it,” he continued. “They’ll gore you.”
Venir ducked into the cage. Creed followed him, and the door closed behind them. Sitting, both of the men’s heads almost touched the top bars of the cage, and they couldn’t stretch their legs out. Kazzar and the underlings left.
“My dogs have bigger cages than this.” Creed eyed a man in the cage across from him. The hairy fella was gnawing on a dead rat. “Better food as well.”
***
Ebenezer Kling skulked in one of the abandoned guard towers as the prisoners were led into the courtyard. “Lords of the Lands,” he muttered. He leaned farther out of the window. The red-headed warrior, Creed, was unmistakable. His athletic frame rippled with well-defined muscle. He moved with a true swordsman’s ease. As imposing as Creed was, he was practically insignificant to the man that towered at his side. Ebenezer had never seen such brawn on a man who moved like a jungle cat. Scarred muscles twitched underneath his sun-bronzed skin with the slightest movement. The man’s blue eyes burned with volcanic fire. His hard stare could crack stone. Who in Bish is that monster?
From above, Ebenezer kept his eyes on the group. The men were led into a small barracks converted to a prison for the gladiators of the upcoming games. He’d met the underling
, Kazzar, briefly as they spoke about the games. Once the men were taken inside, he headed up to his mother’s room. The door swung open on his approach. Once it closed, he said, “Our ally Creed, from Castle Bloodhound, is in custody.”
Without looking up from her knitting as she rocked in the black chair, she said, “That’s unfortunate. An odd coincidence as well.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t just sit here and knit all day. I cast inquiring spells that allow me to put my eyes on things. Those men, I reckon, are up to more than just fighting. The heart of Bone stirs. The royals have started some sabre rattling.” The clicking of her knitting needles fell silent. “Something is underfoot. I think it’s time that I paid some of our allies a visit.”
“Castle Bloodhound? But Creed is no longer the lord of the castle; he is here.”
She set her needles and tapestry aside and stood. “You have many strong qualities, Ebenezer, but there are many things that you overlook as well. Do you really think that Creed was running that pseudo-castle that smells like dog piss?”
He nodded. “Lorda Almen. Yes, I imagine she would be controlling things.”
“It should be obvious to the likes of you, but not to Creed. She’s a brilliant diplomat with the cunning of a thief and the cold heart of an assassin. I’m going to see what she’s up to.”
“What about me?”
“Be seen so no one is concerned about me.” With her palms up and eyes rolling up into her head, she muttered a word and disappeared.
Ebenezer’s arm hair stood on end. He rubbed it down and departed.
CHAPTER 27
“Haze is dead,” Melegal said. He made his way toward the spring that burbled up out of the small stone fountain. Sis and Frigdah looked at each other. Both were dressed in the same garb they always wore that looked more like dyed sackcloth. Frigdah had slimmed down. One of her extra chins was missing. Sis stepped in front of Melegal.
He looked down at her. “I’m thirsty.”
“What happened to her?” Sis’s eyes got a little misty. There were bags underneath her eyes, and her paunchy skin was clammy. “Was it the underlings?”
“Let’s just say it was the underlings’ fault.”
“That’s not an answer.” Sis’s voice rose. Frigdah crowded him. “Be straight with us. Haze trusted you. We did too.”
“A drink first? It’s a long story if you want to hear it all.”
“How about a thank you for bailing your skinny hind end out?”
“Do you want to know what happened to Haze, or do you want a thank you? You can’t have both.”
Sis shook her head and stepped out of the way. “Drink, then out with it.”
Melegal cupped his hands and filled them. He drank long sips. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed a drink of water, but today, after coming so close to dying, it was as sweet as fermented nectar. He rinsed his face off in the cool, almost icy water from the Everwell. He sat down on one of the stone benches that encircled the fountain.
Sis sat on one side of him and Frigdah on the other.
“Do you mind? I’m a little uncomfortable with close quarters at the moment.” He touched his neck burn. For some odd reason he thought of Sanny. She would have made a fine motley girl if she were a tad uglier. Now she swings from the sticks. A shame. Neither woman budged. “Haze was killed on our journey to the City of Three. The trek in the Outlands took her. It’s harsh out there.”
“Details, skinny,” Sis said.
Melegal wasn’t sure why he wrestled with what happened, but he did. Losing Haze hurt. He’d failed to protect her, blamed Venir, and it was hard to get over. “I’m surprised you two cow bladders still live. How’d you manage that?”
With her chin jutted out, Sis said, “Girls like us are hard to kill. Out with it.”
“There are strange creatures outside of these walls. In this case, she was taken by them. They are called arachnamen. They are men with black bug eyes and antenna from the torso up. All of the rest is spider. They blow bubbles of webs. They took her in the night. We tracked them to their lair, and by the time I got her out, she was already gone.”
Frigdah let out a slobbery sigh. She flung her soft, meaty arms around Melegal. He stiffened like a branch. “Release me, you mooing calf.”
Sis put a dagger tip to his belly. “You shouldn’t have taken her. I should gut you for it.”
“It was her choice.” Melegal twisted the dagger out of Sis’s hands and held the blade to her throat. “Don’t do that again. Now, where’s the rest of you?”
“There is no rest of us. This is it.”
“The rope that hung me had a clean cut right through it. Someone did that. Are you telling me that was you?”
“I don’t know who it was,” Sis said. “It was coincidence that we caught you hanging. How the rope got cut, I don’t know. I thought you did it.”
Melegal didn’t get the sense that she was lying, but he didn’t believe it was all a coincidence either. “Why were you there?”
“Someone paid us to be there. He gave us a sack of coin.” She shook a black purse hanging from her belt. “Said when something happens, be ready.”
“It was a he?”
“Maybe a she. Very spooky. The rags they wore moved with a life of their own. Gave me chills, but I can get over a lot of strange for a lot of money.” She scratched her chin. “I miss my sister. I never saw her like anyone more than you though. You must have done something right. Either that or you have a real walloper tucked in those trousers.”
Frigdah blurted out a wet giggle.
Melegal scanned his surroundings. The old iron door was barred on the inside. There was a separate tunnel big enough to crawl through on hands and knees leading out. As for this mysterious ally, he didn’t have any idea who that could be. On a long shot, it could have been something Altan Rey set up, though he found it unlikely.
“I wouldn’t like to stick around and chat, motleys, so I’m not going to.” He squeezed out from between them. “Where does that pipe go?”
“Where are you going?” Sis said.
“I have to find Venir.”
“He’s still around? What’s he doing?”
“What he always does; he’s killing underlings.”
“Ah, so he’s the one that the underlings are so worked up about. I knew it was him.” Sis slapped Frigdah’s arm. “He was the one that left a pile of them dead out there. We want to help, skinny. We know these pipes better than the man-urchins.”
“You’ve helped enough. I prefer my own company.” He made his way toward the pipe. Frigdah moved at a speed that was startling from the big woman and blocked the way. She crossed her arms over her chest and stuck her chin out at him. He narrowed his eyes on her. “I’m not in the mood to play your games. Out of the way, fat one.”
Frigdah shook her head.
“We can help. Let us,” Sis said. “You owe us. You lost our sister.”
Melegal considered his options. He could easily play along and leave them later. In the meantime, perhaps they would have something to offer. He didn’t have any other allies anyway. “Fine then, you can help me find what has happened to Venir. But that’s it. Do you understand?”
Both women gave vigorous nods.
I can’t believe I’m doing this. Melegal filled them in on Altan Rey and the battle in the pits that were set up. There, it’s done.
Sis smiled. “Let’s go find the big man then.”
Melegal crawled into the pipe. I can’t believe I’m working with them.
CHAPTER 28
The vibrant sounds of dwarven war horns carried through the Black Columns. The rich, powerful sound rose about the clamor of weapons. The dwarves fought on with the same iron vigor against the murderous wills of the underlings.
Chongo and Brak moved higher up the bluffs. The dog’s jaws clamped down on an underling and tore it apart. Brak dashed an attack spider’s face in with the cudgel. Chongo’s four ears
perked up. He slung the two pieces of underling over the rocks. Chongo moved higher into the rocks, away from the ensuing battle.
Brak tugged the reins. “Chongo, where are you going? The battle is back there. Chongo!”
Chongo moved at a trot through the crags, behind the dwarven defenders, and back down the steep ledges into the Black Columns’ interior.
Brak couldn’t slow the beast. He gave the reins a fierce tug. Chongo’s right head snapped at him. “Whoa!” Brak slackened the reins. Chongo was going where he was going. That was the end of it. They made it inside the main camp, where Mood was waiting with Kam, Jubilee, and Billip. The king of the blood rangers had a brass dwarven horn in his hands. He handed it off to Billip. With both hands, he scratched Chongo behind his ears.
“I see the two of you’ve been fighting hard. Blood covers you like rain,” Mood said.
“What is the meaning of this, Mood? Why did you summon us out of the battle? We’re needed.” Brak searched the eyes of his friend for answers.
“Yes,” Mood said, “you are needed, but needed elsewhere. The dwarves will handle Black Columns. You go with your comrades. Get inside that city and open the gate. We’ll meet you on the inside.”
“We’re leaving?” Brak dismounted. “How are we leaving? The underlings have surrounded the Columns.”
Mood reached up and patted the armor covering Brak’s shoulder. “I must go. Chongo, see to it he stays with his friends. I worry he might have too much of his father in him.” With a host of dwarves in tow, Mood departed.
“Kam, what are we doing?” Brak said. His blood was still up from battle. “We can’t just leave them.”
“We won’t dishonor the dwarven king,” she said. Kam had Erin nestled in her arm. The little girl was getting too big for Kam to hold easily. “You and Chongo will protect us, and we’ll protect you. Come on.”
Jubilee moved along Brak’s side, frowning at him.
“What?” he said.
The Darkslayer: Bish and Bone Series Collector's Edition (Books 1-10): Sword and Sorcery Masterpieces Page 104
