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

by Craig Halloran

  “I don’t like what I’m seeing.”

  Aaluun squinted. “That barrel appears mighty suspicious. I’ll sound the horn.” He put a weathered brass pipe to his lips, the horn curled and ancient with dents in the metal. He sounded out a blaring note. Dwarven eyes fell on his position. Aaluun pointed at the underling on the spider. A score of dwarves broke out of the ranks. They climbed the rock with battle lust in their eyes. “That should put an end to the gray devil.”

  Mood wasn’t so sure. The underling rider dismounted the spider. The hairy arachnid, towing the barrel on its back, scurried underneath an overlook that hung over the position of hundreds of dwarves that were engaged in battle below. The bright eyes of the underling sparkled as it saluted Mood and Aaluun with a foul gesture. “Shoot that underling!”

  Dwarves stationed inside the rocks on Mood’s side fired ballistas across the way. The large missiles clattered off the rock, busting up at the feet of the underling. A second missile hit the underling full in the chest. Clutching the missile, it waved at Mood and pitched forward, plummeting toward the rocks. Its lips were still moving as it fell.

  Mood looked at the overhang where the spider was. There was a bright flash followed by a rock-jarring Kaboom! Huge chucks of rock bounced down the walls, crushing the dwarves below. The rocks came down in sheets. More explosions echoed all around. Pinnacles and spires broke off in thousands of large, jagged pieces. The thunderous explosion echoed all around.

  “Shields! Shields!” Mood called out. It was too late. The Dwarven Holes army was getting crushed. The underlings crawled over the fallen rocks, emerging through the thickened dust, weapons high, chittering in triumph.

  CHAPTER 25

  “Stay behind me, Lefty,” Georgio said, eyeing the underlings advancing toward them.

  “I’m not staying too close. I’ve seen how you swing that sword sometimes. You might kill me.” Lefty dashed toward a mound of sandstone and hid.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m hiding until the fight is over. If they find me, I’ll sting them.”

  “You little coward!” Georgio looked back and forth between Lefty and the underlings mounted on the spiders. “Get over here!”

  “They can’t kill you, Georgio, but they can kill me. You wouldn’t want me to die again, would you?”

  “No, I’d rather kill you myself if I get the chance.” Georgio stole a glance at Barton. The giant was gone. “Great, I don’t guess I can count on either one of you.” He set his feet.

  The underlings vanished underneath the sandy horizon. The wind picked up. He dusted the sand out of his eyes. Georgio’s heart pounded. It was a very long minute before the underlings reappeared. Riding on the backs of the giant sand spiders, two underling riders approached. Coming to a stop, they flanked Georgio.

  Georgio’s eyes slid from underling to underling. He was certain there were at least three riders that he’d seen. He took a glance over his shoulder. No one was there. He positioned himself between the sandstones where Lefty hid and the underlings. “What are you little freaks waiting for?” He beckoned at them. “Come on!”

  The underlings rode on the backs of the spiders like a man rode a horse. The insects had a unique harness that the underlings hooked their legs in. Each underling carried a sword made from blackened steel with a sharpened barbed point at the end. They chittered.

  “I hate the sounds you make.” Georgio moved left. The spiders scurried sideways, maintaining their position in front of him. Even with the hot suns on his back, it gave him a chill. “Are we going to fight or not?”

  The riders crept closer. As they did, the spiders began spinning a glistening web, using their front tentacles.

  “Bish on this!” Georgio charged. Taking aim at the rider on the left, he unleashed a sideways swing. Thwwip! Something snagged his feet out from under him. He hit the ground face-first and rolled to his back. The third rider, sword in each hand, pounced off the back of a spider. It landed right beside Georgio and took a stab at him. Georgio swatted the blow away. “Not today, fiend!”

  The underling backed away, hissing. Suddenly, it lunged. Its blade dug into the meat of Georgio’s thigh.

  “Aargh! Curse you!” Georgio chopped at the underling. It chittered back at him. Shaking its shoulders, it spoke to the others. The other two underlings dismounted. They darted in, taking jabs at Georgio. He knocked one strike aside but took another hit in the meat of his shoulders. He started swinging like a wild man, but the spider dragged him off the ground, keeping him off balance.

  The underlings chittered and poked at him. He bled. Pain assailed his body. He screamed. “Get off me!” Wriggling away from the next strike, his feet came loose from the webbing. At the same time, the spider let out a high-pitched shriek. Lefty gutted the arachnid from underneath with his dagger. Regaining his full mobility, Georgio rolled up on one knee. He turned loose a lethal slash. Georgio’s blade cut the knee out from the nearest underling. It toppled. “You shouldn’t have played around so long!”

  The remaining underlings stabbed Georgio in the chest at the same time.

  “Gah! That hurts!”

  The underlings looked between him and one another. Their ruby eyes widened. Together, they tried to drive their blades deeper.

  Georgio struck the underling on the left in the middle of the skull. The blow split its face open. The remaining underling gaped. Georgio seized its throat with his fingers. He crushed its windpipe. It made one last long, rattling gasp. He pushed it away. “Lefty?” His mouth was dry as a bone. He could barely speak. “Lefty!”

  The halfling wandered over, half-covered in spider guts, with a sour look on his face. “Yes.”

  “Will you pull these swords out of my chest?”

  “What if you need an extra?”

  Clenching his eyebrows, Georgio said, “These things hurt! Get them out!”

  Setting his foot against Georgio’s bleeding thigh, Lefty grasped the hilt of one.

  “No, wait. Let me get myself ready.”

  “Shall I go on the count of three?”

  Georgio nodded. “Yes, but I’ll count.”

  Lefty nodded.

  “One, two, three—”

  Lefty ripped the sword out.

  “Son of an ogre!” Georgio cried. “Bish, that hurts! Just leave the other one in.”

  “You can’t do that. Just close your eyes and suck it up. You’ve been through worse things than this.”

  Panting, he said, “No I haven’t!”

  “Yes, you have. Now, lean forward. I’ll count.”

  Georgio swayed on his knees. “Fine, I’m too tired to count.”

  “Here goes… one, two, THREE!” Lefty ripped the sword out!

  Head to the sky, Georgio screamed at the top of his lungs, “Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!” He fell flat on his back.

  With the expression of a curious child, and standing in Georgio’s sun, Lefty said, “I see what the problem was.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I thought these swords would come out easy, but see here?” There was a hunk of flesh on the end of the blade. “There’s a little barb on the end, like a fish hook. It looks like it’s more for show than function, but it’s not. It’s a cruel device that takes a piece of you.”

  “I’m going to take a piece of you!” Every breath Georgio took made him wince. “Where are those other spiders.”

  Lefty’s head swiveled. “Gone.”

  Georgio closed his eyes. “Good. Do you see any more?” When Lefty didn’t respond right away, he opened his eyes. “Now what?” Lefty stood with a spear tip lowered on his chest. It was held by a seven-foot-tall strider.

  CHAPTER 26

  Awareness. Helm amplified Venir’s intuition. He sensed, heard, felt the thoughts of the underlings bent on his destruction. It fed him. It fed Brool. His wounded body and seared mind came back to life. In a full sprint, he ran for the stands. Crossing the distance, he noticed Eep on the other end, tucked
underneath the wall. The imp rolled his shield to him.

  Flickering its tongue, the imp said, “Killsss them!”

  Killing them was too kind a word for what Venir was going to do to them. He would wreak havoc. Mutilate. Destroy. The gushing hate-filled thoughts of the enemy fed his fury. He brought up the shield as another barrage of magic collided into him. He didn’t slow this time. The painted juggernaut leapt into the stands. Brool whistled through the air.

  Slice!

  Underling skull gave in to brain. Brain gave in to neck and chest. Two more underlings fell in seconds after the first. Setting the shield to his shoulder, Venir shoved against the heaving horde on one side. On the other side, Brool whistled death. Underlings fell to one full swing after the other. The axe was a living weapon in his hand. It sliced and stabbed. Arms, legs, and heads were detached. Fountains of black blood flowed. Venir let them have it! “Raaaaaah!”

  Master Sinway backed up to the benches. His eyes were infernos. Fingers massaging the air, he flung red streams of energy at Venir. The radiant beams encircled Venir’s body. It sucked at the power propelling his limbs. Venir let out a barbaric laugh and hacked through a new enemy. The red energy dissipated. Sinway howled in underling. “Impossible!”

  The fighting underlings became mindless. The presence of the Darkslayer drove them into an abnormal fury. They surged against the lone man, oblivious to everything around them. They wanted his blood. They were determined to bring him down once and for all.

  Venir ascended the steps, leaving the wake of death beneath him. He fastened his attention on Master Sinway. The underlings recoiled. In vain, Elypsa fought through her brethren only to have Sinway pull her back. The master of all underlings was only two axe lengths away. “I’m going to kill you, Sinway! I’m going to kill you all!” Elypsa screamed.

  Brool pierced a lung. The double blades split open chests, necks, and faces. The footing became slippery. The benches sloppy.

  Almost there!

  Venir swept aside a row of underlings with his axe. A gap opened between him and Sinway and Elypsa. “I’ve got you now!” He coiled his legs and sprung. Master Sinway and Elypsa faded. Brool passed through them both. Venir fought for his footing and wheeled around, swinging. Sinway and Elypsa were gone. He sensed it.

  “Bone!”

  Helmet throbbed angrily. Axe high, Venir unleashed his anger on the surging flock of underlings.

  ***

  Melegal hit the ground on his feet. Magic erupted all around. The underlings were intent on slaying Venir. For a long second, Melegal considered fleeing into the bunkers. He changed his mind the moment an underling dropped from the stands and rushed him.

  Chongo charged out of nowhere and crushed the underling in his jaws. Nearby, Brak fought his way to his knees. His clothing and hair were scorched. Ebenezer Kling made it to his feet, woozy and holding his head. He picked up a sword, stumbled forward, and fell down. Melegal helped the man up and shoved him toward the bunker. “Go!”

  “Nay, I will fight.” Ebenezer’s face was haggard. The skin on the fingers of his sword hand had been chewed off. “It’s all the honor I have left.”

  “Have it your way,” Melegal said. “Brak, can you stand?”

  Brak nodded.

  Melegal found the ash cudgel and handed it to Brak. “Can you swing?”

  “I have a few more left in me.” Brak’s lazy eyes found Venir in the stands. His back straightened. His expression got mean. “Definitely, more.” Like a giant, he lumbered toward a knot of underlings. The cudgel’s head hanging in his hand glowed white. He slammed it into them. The blows made loud pops and cracks.

  “Like lout, like lout.” Melegal noticed Creed scooting along the wall on his hindquarters. He was using a strip of clothing to clot the blood from his severed hand. Melegal hustled over to him. “Need a hand?”

  With a little fire still burning behind his weak eyes, Creed said, “Funny. Can I borrow your belt?”

  Melegal gave it some thought. “No, but I’ll fetch you one.” He picked his way through the dead until he found a suitable piece of rope that was used to secure prisoners. He tied off Creed’s arm at the elbow. “That will slow it, but you’ll probably still die. The world doesn’t need a one-armed swordsman anyway.”

  “No, it doesn’t look like it.” Creed’s eyes were on the stands. Venir swung into underling after underling like a high-speed windmill. “So big. So fast. How does he control it?”

  “Don’t give him all the credit. It’s that getup doing the work.”

  “I know all about it. It takes more of a man than me to control it.” Creed grunted. “Help me up. I’m walking out of here if I can.”

  Melegal hooked the man under the shoulder. “Ick. You’re slick with blood. Ack!” Eep appeared right in front of him. He took a stab at the imp. “Get away!”

  “Eep your ally. You get away!” the imp said.

  The imp had almost killed Melegal once before. The sight of Eep made his backside burn. Eyeing the hovering terror, he said, “You are my ally according to who?”

  Eep flickered his tongue at Melegal and blinked away. He reappeared among the underlings. He tore the armorless men apart. Master Sinway sent the soldiers to search the castle. Now, only the mages remained. Unable to control their blind lust to kill Venir, they hurled their spells and bodies at him. Venir shrugged them off, sending them to their doom one double-bladed axe strike at a time. Chongo, Brak, and Eep joined him, attacking with berserk glee.

  CHAPTER 27

  “Creed. Ebenezer. I need you to secure these dugouts as far back as the preparation rooms,” Melegal said. His gut told him it was only a matter of time before every underling in the castle stormed the arena. “Do it now!”

  Ebenezer lumbered into the one where Melegal fought the urchling. Creed followed after him. Melegal hooked his arm. “Not that way, that way!”

  Pale as a ghost, Creed managed to amble into the dugout across the way.

  Eyeing the battle in the stands, Melegal turned his ring. He vanished. Avoiding the fracas of battle, he traversed the stands until he made it to the top. There were four entrances. Paired-up underling soldiers burst through one of them. Melegal slipped out of their path, headed to that exit, closed the iron door, and bolted it shut. One down, three to go.

  Moving clockwise, he managed to close the next two doors without incident. The last door was a problem. Underlings poured through it in a steady stream. Their eyes glazed over the moment they saw Venir. It sent them into a chittering frenzy. He waited for a break in the swarm. It didn’t come. Using the power of his cap, he shouted out, “Stop!”

  The underlings froze in their tracks. Their momentum carried one into the other. One had fallen in the doorway. Melegal reappeared. Bish! It’s never easy! Taking advantage of the catatonic moment, he shoved the underling aside with his foot. Just as the fiend cleared the door, weapons came to life in the underlings’ hands. Melegal called out in underling again. “Stop!”

  With the underlings frozen in their tracks, he shut the door and bolted it. Bright spots filled his eyes. Warm blood dripped from his nose. He started to strike an underling with its back to him. Instead, he teetered and fell. He cracked his head on the benches. When he looked up, three underlings came back to life. Bearing sharp weapons, they rushed toward him.

  This is what I get for playing the hero. An untimely and unwanted death. With a terrible headache no less.

  Chongo plowed into the underlings and tore them to shreds. He turned and licked Melegal in the face.

  “Gack! Did you have to do that?” Melegal straightened his cap, wiped his nose, and headed down to the bottom of the arena stands. On the outside, the underlings were pounding on the doors. On the inside, Venir and Brak finished off the last of the underlings. Over a hundred lay dead. “Woohoo! Venir!” He flagged him down with his arms. “Take that helmet off and listen to me, lout!”

  Ebenezer and Creed appeared from the dugout. They both gave him a thumbs-
up.

  Venir still murmured. His black eyelets sought out the enemy. He headed for the door.

  “Brak! Stop your father.”

  Brak reached out and swiped the helmet from Venir’s face. Venir was a split second from goring his son with the axe. His wild eyes settled. Chest heaving, he turned toward Melegal. “What?”

  “As long as you are wearing that flower pot on your head, they are going to keep coming. We need to get out of here, now.” Melegal hopped the wall into the arena. He landed quiet as a cat. He staggered. Head still hurts. I hate that.

  The underlings pounded at the doors. The echoing sound grew louder.

  “We are trapped inside,” Brak said, handing the helmet back to his father. “We should keep fighting until they are all dead.”

  “No, we should escape.”

  Eep appeared, wringing his taloned hands. “So manysss outside. They gathered. Be here in moments. Yesss.” The imp shook the blood from his wings. “We kill all of them.”

  “You can kill all that you want.” Melegal picked up the sack lying on the floor and tossed it to Venir. “I have a better idea.” He wandered over to a trap door in the floor, grabbed the metal ring on top, and with a heave, opened it up. “We can escape this way if we make haste.”

  Venir peered in the hole while Chongo licked the blood and paint from him. “Chongo won’t fit down there.”

  Melegal’s shoulders sagged. He looked up at the busted skylight. “I don’t suppose he can crawl up there?”

  “No. But there isn’t any reason to stop any of you from going through. We need to raise the flags up and get the signal to Mood. You take care of that.”

  “I’m staying with you, father,” Brak said.

  “Sorry, son, but you are going too.”

  “But—”