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

by Craig Halloran

  “Not a word of this then,” Melegal said to the woman. “I’m new, and I’d rather not bring you any more troubles. Sorry for your incident. Your warning is heeded.” Melegal hustled away. When he glanced back, the woman had vanished over the staircase. The fear in her eyes didn’t unsettle him. He was used to the royals and their nasty games. One thing was for sure, it didn’t appear that Rayal’s charm came from her grandmother.

  He took the next flight of steps up. The fanciful marble floors turned to cruder cut stone. There were several doors at the top, made from aged hard wood polished and waxed to a shine. The door at the end was black as tar, the brass hinges corroded. The door swung inward with the slightest groan.

  The witch knows I am here. Let’s see what this witch is all about.

  Melegal poked his head in the door. “Pardon, Lorda Manamus, but I’ve been instructed to bring you water by Lord Kling.”

  “Enter, vulpine rogue.” She spoke in the strong voice of an older woman.

  Melegal entered. The door closed behind him.

  “Where do you come from, sneakster?” Manamus sat in her rocker, knitting. Her eyes were on her work. Deep wrinkles creased her face well beyond her years. She was a woman that had given much effort for power. He’d seen it before, a hundred times. “Rayal sent me, so to speak.”

  She stopped rocking and set her knitting needles on her lap. “I see. I’ve spoken to Rayal, recently. I don’t recall her mentioning one as raw-boned as you. The men she mentioned had substantially more meat on them.”

  “I try not to be noticed.”

  Her tightly knit brows lifted. “Vulpine indeed. How did you manage to get inside these walls?”

  “I came inside the belly of a manure cart.”

  “That explains the unsettling aroma. So, you are here to take out the underlings. This plan, as I understand it, is very farfetched, but I sense there is more at stake for you than this.”

  “The underling that calls himself Kazzar robbed me of some special goods that I am very attached to. I don’t take kindly to being robbed.”

  “So, this is personal?”

  “The underlings will kill us all eventually, but I will have what I have before I die.” Cupping the pitcher in both hands, he said, “Do you wish to drink?”

  “Your knowledge quenches my thirst. Tell me, what was it that the servant woman said about me when you encountered her below my stairs?”

  The hairs on Melegal’s arms rose. How did she know?

  “That you are a marvelous master,” he said with a razor-thin smile.

  “And you are a convincing liar,” she replied. “What do you call yourself?”

  “Melegal.”

  Her eyes widened the slightest bit. “That’s a very unique name for an urchin. Where did you get it?”

  “It was the one that I was given.”

  “I see.” She rose out of her rocker and waved her hand. The pitcher of water vanished from Melegal’s hands. She hooked her arms around his. “Tell me about these items that are so precious to you. And tell me about your brutish friend’s armament too. I’m very curious.”

  Very power hungry is more like it.

  Melegal walked along with her as she led him deeper into the room. Her icy cold fingers chilled him to the bone. He decided to be candid with her. “There is a pair of dart launchers I acquired from an assassin. A ring taken from the Royal Almen’s house cleric, Sefron.”

  “Sefron?” She stuck her tongue out. “That flabby toad is dead, I presume.”

  “Very much so. The ring shocks the slat out of people.”

  “Ah, I enjoy trinkets such as that. Anything else?”

  “A personal effect. A cap from my childhood. It’s very striking on my head.”

  “And Altan Rey had these items?”

  “I’m not certain. They might have been taken by one of the guards. But he’ll know.” They stopped and looked outside one of the windows that overlooked the city. “Nice view.”

  “Yes, it’s very nice this time of day, isn’t it?”

  He nodded.

  “I like your company, Melegal. You have an edge about you. I’m not fond of the compassionate, like Rayal. She’s soft as a butterfly’s wings. Elizabeth, however, now she has the true fire of a ruler.” She waved her hand in front of the tombstone-shaped window and uttered smooth, flowing words.

  Melegal tingled from head to toe. Her magic raced through him.

  “Watch and see what Manamus Kling sees.”

  A clear image appeared in the window. It was a picture of the castle courtyard. The servants were working the deteriorating gardens. She passed her hand in front of the window as if she was shoving a sliding closet door aside. A new image appeared. It was of the kitchen. With the flip of her hand, the image changed from room to room.

  “Now you see what I see. I am the master behind these walls. It’s my castle. Are you impressed?”

  “Delighted. Can you find Altan Rey?”

  “Of course. He’s in the arena.” She flipped to another image. It was an aerial view above the arena. The seats were filled with underlings. Painted men battled bloodthirsty underlings to the death. A man fell to his knees with a spear through him. An underling chopped off his head. “Was that your friend?”

  “No, I don’t see him.” The image changed suddenly to a view of the hallway outside of Manamus’s door. A squad of underlings was coming. “What’s this all about?”

  Manamus cackled. “They aren’t looking for me. They’re looking for you.”

  A zap went through Melegal’s shoulders. The world turned dim. He sank to the floor, rigid as a board. Paralyzed.

  Evil witch.

  CHAPTER 41

  Venir and Creed were back inside the preparation room. There was water, trays of cooked meat, cheese, and bread. They ate while servant women dressed their wounds and applied new paint to their bodies. It had been hours since they had seen another prisoner. Ten underlings stood inside the room guarding them. Their gemstone eyes watched every move they made.

  “How’s the wound? Venir asked Creed.

  “My leg’s stiff as a board, but at least the meat is still intact. What do you think is happening out there?”

  “Those other prisoners, you saw them, I imagine they are being slaughtered.”

  “Better them than us.”

  “We’re going to get our turn again. Why else would they be decorating us?”

  “If the circumstances were any different, I think I could get used to this paint.” Creed ran his eyes up and down his sinewy arms. “There’s some flare to it. It gives me a new identity, like the armament did. Do you think it’s here?”

  “It’s where it wants to be, I suppose.” Venir coiled leather around his wrist, making for a crude bracer. “Maybe someone else is waving a big axe in the city, slaying the underlings.”

  “Do you feel foolish giving it up? Perhaps we could have found another way in.”

  Venir showed a gap between his fingers. “We’re this close, aren’t we?”

  Kazzar entered the room, moving fast.

  Creed replied to Venir, “I guess we are about to find out.”

  “It’s time.” Kazzar motioned at the underling soldiers. They surrounded Venir and Creed. The women servants departed. “Master Sinway now graces the arena.”

  Venir stood up and looked down. “What about my gear, Kazzar?”

  “Everything is in place. What happens will happen. It’s time for the contest to begin.” Kazzar led them out of the preparation room, down the tunnel, and back into the dugout. The underling soldiers followed him inside the arena. Kazzar closed the gate behind him, and the guards took their stations around the arena.

  Men were finishing mopping the blood stains off the floor. They picked up fingers, ears, and a foot and placed them in a bucket. The arena reeked of drying death. On Kazzar’s order, the men scurried down the other exit tunnel. The door closed behind them.

  “That must be him,” Creed said, l
ooking at the underling sitting beside the female, Elypsa. His robes were black as night. He was as big as a man, with a presence that dominated the room. “I’ve never seen eyes like that on any of them. They are cold as iron. My blood turns to ice.”

  Venir’s blood started pumping. His jaws clenched. Even without the helmet, the underlings made his blood boil. Now, he was only a few yards away from his greatest enemy, Master Sinway. “Who is that man on the other side of Sinway,” he asked Creed. “Do you know him?”

  “Yes. Ebenezer Kling. A fine swordsman, just not as fine as me.”

  “I thought as much. If he were quick, he’d stick a blade in that black heart’s throat.”

  “He’s quick, just afraid of losing his own life, I’m sure. I can’t say I blame him. Perhaps this is the setup that Altan Rey is waiting for. We are in here, and a fine fighter is up there. Maybe there is a whisker of a chance.”

  The arena was filled to capacity now. The underlings sat shoulder to shoulder. There were mages and fighting men among them. The savage bare-skinned badoon, elite underling hunters, sat among their ranks. It was a small army of leaders all in the same place at once.

  “Just focus on Sinway. It will be a great blow to all of the underlings.” Venir cracked his neck side to side. “I’ll kill all you fiends. I just need my axe.”

  Kazzar held his hands over his head. The underling audience went quiet. He motioned to the underling dugout. Someone inside the dugout pushed Venir’s rucksack through the bars. An underling soldier carried the pack to Kazzar.

  Venir eased over to the door that barred him inside. He gripped the steel with white-knuckled fingers and pulled. The metal groaned. The crowd stirred.

  Kazzar chittered an incantation in underling.

  “What is he doing, Venir?” Creed said. He covered his ears. “Something’s wrong.”

  Kazzar transformed from underling to man. He grinned at Venir and winked. When he spoke again, he spoke in words that both man and underling could understand. “Master Sinway, I, your faithful servant, Kazzar, have a great gift for you.”

  Venir tore at the bars. “You traitor! You’re selling out your own kind!” He shook the cell door’s hinges. His biceps were bursting on his arms. Creed grabbed the bars and shook them as well.

  “I am Altan Rey, from the Royal House of Kord, and we pledge our loyalty to you. To prove our dedication, I have brought you a gift—your mortal enemy known as the Darkslayer. It is him behind the bars. The both of them have served in that same capacity. And I also offer this.” He pulled the stitched-up sack from the pack. “The bag that holds his armament.”

  The underlings hissed. Master Sinway floated from the top seats to the bottom. He stretched his long gray arms out. The mystic sack slipped free of Altan Rey’s fingers and landed in Sinway’s hands. His iron eyes fastened on the stitched-up leather bag. He gripped it as if his life depended on it. “You have done yourself a great service, Altan Rey. What is your request?”

  “Immunity for my house. Prosperity for my castle.”

  “You will have it.”

  “Shall I resume the games, Master Sinway?” Altan Rey said with a bow.

  “Bring them forward.”

  Altan Rey backed away from Venir’s dugout. He sent underlings to open the door. The lock clicked. Venir flung the door open, knocking the underlings aside. He bore down on Master Sinway. Speeding toward the wall, he leapt at Sinway’s throat. The underling’s eyes flashed. An unseen force knocked Venir flat on his back. Creed writhed beside him. Venir couldn’t move a muscle. Something tremendous was crushing him. He couldn’t breathe.

  Sinway’s voice silenced the stirred-up crowd. “Men like these have been a thorn in our side long enough. Today, I will make them feel pain!” The underlings jeered. “We will make them feel pain! I’ll make an example of them for all to see. The games will continue. They will bleed, bleed, bleed through their last gurgling breaths. We shall hang them like banners that drip blood on the castles!”

  BOOK 9: HUNT OF THE BEAST

  CHAPTER 1

  What in Bish has happened to me? Melegal couldn’t see, but he could hear. He was vaguely aware of his surroundings. Manamus’s presence was nearby. For some odd reason it felt like she’d sat on him. His bones creaked in a back-and-forth motion. The witch did something nasty to me. I’m rocking.

  Manamus spoke to underlings in her bitter voice. “Do what you must do and be done with it, you vile things. But you better not damage a single item in my room. I’ll turn your gray skin inside out for it!”

  “Lorda Manamus,” a soldier said shakily. “Countless apologies for the intrusion. There is an intruder that the sentries are searching for. He was seen coming up your stairs by one of the servant girls. He poses as one of us. Have you seen anyone new?”

  “Barnaby, isn’t it?” she said.

  “Y-Yes, Lorda Manamus.”

  “Tell me, Barnaby, do you believe every word that comes from a lesser vessel?”

  “Er… I don’t follow your meaning.”

  “No, of course you don’t. You are a lesser vessel yourself. A man of ignorance created for the sole purpose of following orders. This servant, did she give a fair description? Is the intruder a man or a woman?”

  “A man, drawn up and gaunt,” Barnaby said. “He smelled somewhat like manure.” He sniffed.

  Melegal pictured the scene that was going down. Underlings prowled the room. Tables rattled. Drawers and cupboards were opened. There was much in Manamus’s room to search. There was a bed frame with a canopy, chests and drawers and a single wardrobe. The hinges creaked from the wardrobe opening and closing several times. Pah, I’m not in there. I’m not sure where I am. But that smell of manure, eh, perhaps that lingers. The price for being polite to the troublesome serving wench.

  “How many times must you fiends look in the same place!” Manamus yelled. “You search my drawers! What kind of man can fit in a drawer? Get these fools out of here!”

  “I have no authority over them, Lorda Manamus,” Barnaby said. “Also”—he cleared his throat—“your presence is demanded in the arena.”

  “Oh delight. Nothing like the smell of blood to sour my stomach. Are we finished here, Barnaby?”

  “That is not my call, Lorda. Ah, it seems the underlings are satisfied with their search.”

  “Good. I’ll be down in the arena momentarily,” Manamus scoffed. “You are dismissed.”

  “Begging your pardon, Lorda, but we are under orders to escort you directly to the arena. We won’t be waiting. Please, let us go with urgency.”

  “Barnaby,” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “Remember that threat about turning the underlings inside out? I’m promising the same to you.”

  The man gulped.

  “Now,” Manamus continued, “help me out of this rocker. When I sit too long my knees get stiff.”

  “Yes, Lorda.”

  Manamus, Barnaby, and the underlings departed the room. The door closed on its own behind them. The room became quiet, aside from the sounds of the castle that carried with the wind through the windows. Melegal tried to move, but his bones were stiff as boards. She turned me into a rocking chair. Such power is frightening. She sat on me. More frightening. After what seemed to be a very long time, his body started to loosen. His sight returned. He was standing in a chair position. His joints burned when he moved. “Ah,” he sighed. “A good thing to move again.”

  He peeked out the window. The soldiers, men and underling, moved in squads. It was clear that the manhunt for Melegal had begun. They even had a description. Just when I thought it was going to be easy. Well, if anyone is up to the challenge, I am. He moved toward the door. It silently swung inward, cracking open about a foot. Slat! Two underling soldiers were posted at the end of the hall. One of them cocked its head and stared at the door. Chittering to the other, both of them came his way.

  It seems that success won’t be easily come by today. He crept back into the roo
m. There was no place to hide. Pressed to the wall, he felt something small and out of place rubbing at his ribs. A foreign object was lodged in the pocket of his clothing that he didn’t recall. He dug out the object with his finger. It was a ring made from gold and silver twisted together. It tingled to Melegal’s light touch. Magic. Manamus left me magic, but what?

  The door swung open. An underling’s fingers wrapped around the edge of the door. Its head started to appear.

  Melegal slipped the ring over his right little finger. His body tingled all over. His hand with the ring vanished. So did the rest of him. Haha! I’m hidden!

  The underlings slipped into the room. One of them sniffed. The other walked right by Melegal. As soon as their backs were to him, he darted out of the room, quick as a fox. The underlings didn’t even notice. He bounded down the stairs four at a time all the way to the main level. He went into one of the living rooms. A pair of men were talking to the servant he encountered. She trembled.

  “Yes. I’d never seen the man before. He said he was new.” Her face was flushed, and her cheek was red and swollen.

  Shaking her shoulders, the soldier said, “Why did you wait so long to report it?”

  “I-I didn’t know. That’s why I asked another.”

  “You’ll get us all killed, Molly. All of us.” The soldier shook his head, released the woman, and began to pace the room, his hands on his bald head. He looked right through Melegal several times. “I’m sorry, Molly. But we’re going to have to hang you.”

  You should have kept your yap shut, Molly. I don’t know that I can save you too.

  CHAPTER 2

  Master Sinway’s strong, filed fingertips needled the weather-beaten leather sack. Ebenezer Kling wasn’t entirely sure what the sack was, but no doubt it was of grave importance. The underling ruler held it like a prize that he’d worked a lifetime for. He scooted farther away. As he did, his mother, Manamus, was brought in. One of his soldiers, Barnaby, had her by the elbow. She jerked it away and sat down by Ebenezer. “Welcome, Mother.”