Bone Lord

by Dante King

  I should have expected the unexpected from Elyse by now. I was disappointed that she wouldn’t be using Isu’s coin, but then again, I should have known she’d be unwilling to use it. She might warm to the idea at a later stage, though. I’d just have to do a whole lot of convincing.

  “That’s fine,” I said, “of course.”

  Elyse sighed. “It’s a gift from you, so I suppose I’ll keep it. But I won’t allow it to win souls for Isu.” She reached into a pocket of her robe and took out a small purse woven of golden thread. It shimmered strangely in the light and seemed to have a glow of its own.

  “Powerful magical wards are woven into this purse,” she said as she opened the strings and dropped Isu’s coin into it. “Normally, we clergywomen use these to transport items of great evil, for the purposes of either studying or destroying them. Once the item is sealed in here, its magic is rendered useless. I’m not saying that this coin is evil, by the way; the purse works irrespective of that dimension. If I put a powerful holy relic in here, its powers are also neutralized.”

  I nodded. “Let’s get back to more pressing matters. We now know that Nabu is guarded by Resplendent Crusaders. But what about the bishop himself? I’ve seen your powers, so it makes me wonder what Nabu is capable of. I know he’s a fat, wine-glugging piece of trash, but what I’ve learned from many years of fighting is that it’s a very, very bad idea to underestimate your opponent, no matter how they look and act.”

  “You’re right not to underestimate him,” she said. “He’s a foul, ugly fool, but he’s also powerful. He has the same kinds of powers I have—”

  “Like that holy rope thing?”

  “That, and many others. In fact, as much as it pains me to say this, I think his abilities are greater than mine. And I‘ve heard rumors that he’s gained additional powers in the last few months. There are all sorts of strange rumors about what happens late at night in Nabu’s cathedral. Whisperings of evil deeds, blood sacrifices.”

  I chuckled darkly and spun Grave Oath in my hand. “I fear no man, Elyse. Especially not some fat slug of a bishop, no matter what dark powers he’s been meddling with.”

  We talked for a while longer about weapons, fighting strategies, and a possible plan of attack for when we arrived at the cathedral. The fact that Elyse had once had her headquarters there was extremely useful; she knew the place like the back of her hand. Once we got inside the inner sanctum, it would probably be easy enough to find Nabu and his Resplendent Crusaders. The problem was getting to that point, especially with the hundreds of guards and soldiers milling around. Hopefully, Grast was right, and they’d let him drive the wagon to the cathedral steps without inspecting the contents.

  It was close to midnight when we saw the town of Erst appear on the horizon, the massive spires of its magnificent cathedral soaring over the sprawled-out settlement. What struck me immediately, though, was that the whole skyline around the town and the cathedral was glowing in tones of red and orange, and towers of black smoke rose up all over town.

  “Fucking hells,” I exclaimed, “it looks like Erst has just been visited by a dragon or two! Is the town burning down?”

  “Oh no!” gasped Elyse. “I can’t believe I forgot!”

  “Forgot what? That there’s an angry dragon with a grudge against Erst?”

  “No, no,” she muttered, shaking her head. “The town’s not on fire. Those are bonfires, huge bonfires burning all over town and in the cathedral grounds. It’s Saint Jorl’s Night tonight.”

  “Saint Jorl’s Night?”

  “Saint Jorl was a bishop of Erst who saved the town from destruction at the hands of a dragon hundreds of years ago. Jorl used his holy powers to fight the beast off and put out the fires before they consumed the entire town. He died while accomplishing this, and the Church of Light made him a saint. Since then, Saint Jorl’s Night has been celebrated every year in Erst. Everyone stays up past midnight and lights bonfires to commemorate Jorl’s heroic deed.”

  “And I’m guessing that this celebration involves a bunch of drinking, eh? Erst is famous for its wine, after all.”

  “The celebrations do involve a fair bit of, um, debauchery… and it’s likely that it’ll go on until the early hours.”

  “Shit,” I grunted. “So, now, there are likely to be even more guards and soldiers around.”

  “Not just them,” said Elyse grimly, “but also clerics from neighboring bishoprics. Probably local noblemen and their own sets of bodyguards too. People come from miles around to celebrate Saint Jorl’s Night in Erst.”

  “All the more souls to win for Isu,” Rami said as she tossed the coin I’d given her into the air. She seemed to really be getting into the spirit of things, and I couldn’t help but smile.

  Elyse frowned. “Maybe we should pull off the road and set up camp in the woods for the night, wait out the day tomorrow, and then, try to get into Erst tomorrow night, when everyone’s dealing with their hangover.”

  What Elyse was saying made sense in terms of being cautious. On the other hand, we might be able to use this Saint Jorl’s Night to our advantage.

  “You said pretty much everyone is going to be drinking tonight, right?” I asked.

  Elyse nodded. “Everyone except the Resplendent Crusaders. They do not partake of alcohol, or any other delights of the flesh.”

  I chuckled and shook my head. “That doesn’t surprise me. They sound like they’ve got quarterstaffs stuck so far up their asses that they’ve got permanent sore throats.” I paused for Grast to finish chuckling. “I think we have a good chance of getting in without setting any alarm bells off. They’ll probably be welcoming Grast in rather than suspecting him of anything; he’ll be the man of the hour, the wine provider.”

  Elyse bit her lower lip as she considered what I was saying. “If anyone does discover what’s in the wagon, though, well—saying we’d be outnumbered would be the understatement of the century.”

  “But tomorrow night, everyone’s going to be cranky and ill-tempered from their hangovers, even if there will be far fewer guards and soldiers around. What do you think, Rami?”

  “I think it’s always best to strike when the enemy is least alert, even if there are more of them at that moment. I would rather fight three stumbling drunks than one sober soldier.”

  “I agree,” I said. “Our best chance is to ride this wagon all the way to the cathedral.”

  “I’d also say it’s worth trying tonight.” Grast decided to chime in while he wagged his finger in the air. “When I’m on the piss, I don’t give a shit about anything but filling my belly with more grog… and finding a comely wench to warm my bed. Now, where the hell’s my Yorish brandy?”

  “All right,” Elyse sighed. She didn’t have a choice, really, and if she was going to get her bishopric back, she needed our help. This was still better for her than carrying out her idea of a perfect plan alone.

  “Don’t worry, Elyse,” I said. “The guards want what Grast provides in their bellies as fast as possible. Though they don’t know that what they’ll be getting in their bellies will be cold, sharp steel instead.”

  We rumbled on toward Erst, ready to enter the firelit town, surrounded on all sides by thousands of enemies. It was going to be a hell of a night.

  Chapter Eleven

  As we drew nearer to the outskirts of Erst, groups of drunken revelers stumbled along the sides of the road. Elyse was looking at them with no small amount of surprise as we rolled past them.

  “Something wrong?” I asked. “You said there’d be a bunch of drunkards around, but now, you’re looking surprised to see them.”

  “It’s not the fact that they’re drunk. It’s who they are. They’re outsiders.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “Their clothes, for one thing. That kind of material isn’t made from Erst, and few could afford to import it. I suspect Nabu has something to do with their presence here.”

  “I think I might have an idea why they ca
me all the way over to Erst,” said Rami, pointing ahead. “Look at those three.”

  She was pointing at three figures ahead of us. Two were stumbling, and one, walking slightly behind them, seemed perfectly sober. However, as they got closer, I noticed that the sober one was being led by the two drunks via a collar around his neck—and he, a young peasant, was in chains.

  “Slaves,” hissed Elyse. “They’re bringing slaves into Erst.”

  “They seem to be taking them out of Erst rather than in,” I remarked.

  “You know what I mean!”

  “I know, I know… something fucked up’s going on around here.”

  “Perhaps they bought this slave in Erst tonight,” said Rami.

  “That blasphemous, cruel, disgusting pile of shit,” Elyse snarled. “I’ll tear his guts out with my bare hands. Selling slaves is bad enough, but to do such a thing on Saint Jorl’s Night is beyond reprehensible.”

  “How you described it, Saint Jorl’s Night didn’t sound like much of a sacred occasion to me,” I said.

  “Many spend the night drinking around a bonfire, true, but many others do celebrate it as a religious holy day too. They put up effigies of the Lord of Light and gather for prayers of thanks at the stroke of midnight. The faithful’s prayers usually go on for hours. And yes, they do keep drinking throughout the service, but their hearts are in the right place.”

  “And these are the people wagging their fingers at us, sinners.” I chuckled and softly shook my head. “Anyway, look; there’s the gates up ahead. We’d best get in the back.”

  “Don’t worry, my friends,” said Grast, his bulbous nose glowing a soft red. “I’ll get you in, no problem. Those dumb goons at the gate won’t suspect a thing. And if they give us any trouble, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.”

  I grinned and clapped my hand appreciatively on his back. “You’re a good man, Grast. Thank you for helping us.”

  “Lord Chauzec,” he said solemnly, “you’re a good fellow, a damn good fellow for helping us out like this. You’ve got no real reason to risk your neck against Nabu and his bleedin’ Resplendent Crusaders, but you’re doing it anyway. If only more lords cared as much about justice as you do, instead of worryin’ only about how best to stuff their pockets and suck us poor folk dry. If you, an outsider, are willing to risk your neck for us, then, by the Lord of Light, so am I!”

  I chuckled warmly and patted Grast on the back again. He was a cheerful old guy, and although he didn’t have a single fighting bone in his body, he had a stout heart. Hopefully, the guards wouldn’t give him any trouble or harass him on the way in. If they did, they’d have me to answer to.

  Rami, Elyse, and I managed to squeeze ourselves into the back, among my skeletons and Fang, who took up most of the space there. I gave him a scratch behind his ear holes, and he let out a contented rumble. Elyse shuddered and pressed herself against the side of the wagon. Rami, though, was quite fascinated with Fang.

  “We have similar creatures in Yeng.” She marveled at the bright red and deep black patterns of his scales. “But ours are smaller, and they’re colored more drably. They’re very rare, these giant lizards. Their scales and flesh are of great value.”

  “Well, nobody’s taking Fang’s scales or flesh or even a single claw clipping off his paws.” I had to admit, I was surprised at how attached I was becoming to my giant zombie man-eating lizard. “I don’t give a shit how much gold his scales are worth. He’s far more valuable of an asset alive than dead.”

  “Did you create him?” Rami ran her fingertips softly over the armored scales around Fang’s nose. “He is undead, correct?”

  “The eyes are a dead giveaway, aren’t they? Excuse the pun.”

  She smiled and nodded, still petting Fang’s scaly head.

  “I guess you could say that I ‘created’ him,” I said. “I also killed him, back before he became my pet. Mount. Whatever. You know what I mean.”

  “You killed a giant lizard single-handedly?” she asked, astonished. “Really?”

  I couldn’t resist flashing Rami a smug grin. I also couldn’t resist fantasizing about that tight body, its seductive curves and contours revealed so tantalizingly by her form-fitting ai’tendar. Soon, there was a very vivid and unshakable image in my mind of me sliding that tight black outfit off of her, and her firm, pert tits popping out into my waiting hands, and—

  “Tell me how you defeated this mighty monster,” she said, grinning as if she’d discovered a dragon’s hoard of treasure.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Elyse scowling and rolling her eyes as she observed Rami’s behavior. But, a hint of a smile flickered across her face, too, when I started telling the story; she’d been impressed by how I had killed the lizard, even if she was too proud to admit it.

  I recounted the tale to Rami, who was suitably impressed, too. Indeed, she was so impressed that I noticed her nipples stiffening and swelling, straining against the tight fabric of her ai’tendar. Her full lips were parted with seductive delight, and I could see an eager hunger for me lighting up her eyes as I talked. This woman certainly loved combat. I was glad she would be fighting alongside me rather than against me. And if we found a private spot to take some well-deserved rest after our victory, I could think of countless ways we could help each other unwind.

  Elyse listened too, though she did her best to pretend she didn’t care. She couldn’t help grinning with delight after certain parts of the story, and shooting subtle gazes at me when she thought I wasn’t looking.

  I finished telling the tale just as we rolled up to the gates of Erst, having gotten two beautiful ladies’ hearts beating and chests heaving using only my words.

  “You there, halt!” ordered a gruff voice from somewhere nearby. I peered through a gap in the thick canvas curtain that blocked off the back of the wagon from the front seats. Two poleax-wielding guards in chainmail were approaching Grast.

  “Hey, boys, it’s me, Grast!” he said. “And I’m just in time to refill Bishop Nabu’s wine cellar. I’m guessing it’s starting to get dangerously empty by now, eh?”

  “Oh, yeah, I recognize you now, you stupid old git,” growled a guard. “What took you so bloody long? We’ve been waiting an hour for you!”

  “We were slightly delayed loading the wine. Wanted to make sure this wagon was going to carry as many barrels as it possibly could.”

  “They’re not beating the damn slaves hard enough if they can’t load this fucking wagon on time,” the guard muttered. “They should send me there; all I need is a whip and an iron gauntlet. Anyway, let’s have a look in the back. His Eminence will want to make sure your numbers are right. Then, you can head on over to the cathedral’s wine cellar.”

  I quietly unsheathed Grave Oath as Rami and Elyse drew their weapons too.

  “Whoa, whoa, hold up there,” Grast protested. “Like you said, I’m already running a bit late. If you two lads go and start counting all the barrels of wine I’ve got packed in the back, I’ll be even later. As I said, we had them really stuff wine into every corner. By the time you’ve worked yourself through that, Bishop Nabu is probably getting tired of waiting, and, well, you know how he gets. Wouldn’t want to incur his wrath, eh?”

  “Not my problem,” the guard said.

  “It will be when I tell him you were the reason I was delayed.”

  “You do that, and I’ll remove your tongue myself, you fat fuck.”

  “That’ll be hard to do when Nabu has you hanging upside down in a dungeon cell. And I’ll be speaking to him before you will. You know this.” Grast’s tone softened as he continued. “Listen, friend, let me share some of this magnificent wine with the both of you, what do you say? I’ve got a few bottles I brought along for my friends in Erst. You’re welcome to have one if it means I can get going quickly.”

  “Three.”

  “Three?”

  “Gimme three bottles, and I’ll let you pass without an inspection.”

  “All r
ight, all right.” Grast pretended to sound as if he was upset at being ripped off. I listened with bated breath as he fumbled around in the crate under his seat and pulled out three bottles of his vineyard’s finest wine.

  “We’re going to be drinking lords’ wine tonight!” the guard roared triumphantly as he and his friend snatched the bottles from Grast. “No more cheap piss for us. This is the good stuff.”

  “Enjoy, lads,” Grast said. “Now, may I pass?”

  “Yeah, yeah, go on, get moving.”

  Grast cracked his whip, and we kept our weapons in our hands. We were rolling into Erst itself, but we had a long, busy road ahead of us.

  “Well played, Grast,” I whispered through a gap in the canvas.

  “Glad you think so, Lord Chauzec,” he whispered back, clearly excited. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure I get you all into the cathedral cellars without incident. Just keep quiet and stay still until we’re in.”

  As we slowly made our way, I peered through gaps in the planks to see what was going on outside. The thousands of people chatting, laughing, yelling, and singing created an omnipresent roar, waves of raucous noise crashing ceaselessly against the wagon. We were heading down the high street, a broad cobbled road that should have allowed two wagons to pass side by side. But Grast’s enormous wagon, with its long train of oxen that strained to pull its weight, only barely fit between the cramped taverns and stores lining the street.

  Often, Grast had to stop the wagon and wait for the soldiers and guards—dozens of whom seemed to be stationed every few yards along the main strip—to force people to move out of the way.

  “I haven’t seen a single effigy of the Lord of Light so far,” Elyse said, fuming. “I didn’t expect to see many, of course, but to not see a single one… And the cathedral bells should have been rung by now to call the faithful to prayer. It’s well past midnight already. Nabu truly has perverted this holy day.”