The minutes dredged into hours and despite the wonderful shade of the mammoth leaves, it was still hot and humid. There was no breeze. Chongo’s two heads made loud panting sounds, tongues hanging out like red carpet. Quickster panted too, and Georgio’s hair was bushed out and soaked with sweat. It was almost as miserable as being in the sun. There was little cool comfort anywhere in the Outlands, except in the caves or high in the nameless mountains.
“This forest makes me itch all over with the creeps,” Melegal said, scratching his neck.
Venir looked back towards the city thief.
“Eh … nice outfit,” he said.
Melegal had mixed some spotted forest colors in with his usual gray attire.
“That should scare the bugs away.”
He led Chongo up a steep slope of rocks and slippery moss. Georgio clutched at the saddle horn as the big dog lurched upward.
“Er … Venir,” Melegal said, eyes darting back and forth, spurring the sure footed Quickster forward. “… I remember those deadly plants and animals in this forest. You never told me about those strange peoples you encountered. ”
There was a long pause. Venir didn’t see the need to worry anyone. He had no idea what to expect.
“Well…” the thief said.
“Didn’t I? Well, now that you’re here,” Venir’s eyes darkened and he lowered his voice, “… it’s not the people you need to worry about. It’s the trees, man! They stare at every move you make, and then …” Venir glanced back at Melegal’s scowling face, “they do absolutely nothing.”
Melegal hissed profanities from behind while Georgio giggled from his spot on the saddle. A stiff wind cut through their damp clothes as they leveled out on a plateau.
“Ah … that feels great,” Georgio said, widening his arms.
Even Melegal seemed to think so, closing his tireless eyes. Venir’s nostrils widened as his hand fell down to the hilt of his knife. The wind picked up, bending the saplings and tall grass, raising goose bumps on his sweat slickened skin. The smell in the wind was foul, like molded bread. Georgio and Melegal began holding their noses. Venir knew what it was as the foul breeze spoke in his ears. Bone—the magi come!
CHAPTER 30
Royal Lord Almen was seated in his elaborate throne room. His primped brow was drawn down and his chest was heaving. His fist was clenched in the face of another man, all clad in black.
“Why? Who? How!?” he yelled in the cowering man’s face.
His bellows echoed off of the high ceilings, down the corridors, and throughout the rooms of his castle-like home. There was a crash of glass coming from somewhere, a gasp and the sound of footfalls scurrying away. It was not good to be around to see the wrath of Lord Almen of the Fourth House of Bone. Lord Almen was seething inside, far worse than his shaking voice. His finest son was lost. His enemies, any hundred of them, would see this as a weakness in his powerful house. He had to take precautions that his son’s demise would not travel at all.
“Why haven’t the culprits already been brought to me? I want the culprits … Now!”
“It seems that the criminal has fled the City of Bone.”
The man’s voice was silky, but mindful. The swarthy figure spread out his hands and began to fan himself with a wide brimmed hat.
“Go on Detective McKnight!” Lord Almen bellowed.
McKnight drew himself up; his head still dipped down and said, “There is no specific evidence, except that Tonio was mauled to death.”
McKnight spoke fast, but fluid.
“By what, I haven’t discovered yet. It’s taking time to scramble up all of the locals. But we’ll make them talk. The stable master and his help were found dead. Others seem to have vanished. It seems to be the work of an assassin from another family, although the mauling is inexplicable,” the detective shrugged. “I don’t understand it … yet—but I will.”
Lord Almen grabbed the detective by the collar of his cloak, and pulled McKnight up on his toes.
“You better!”
Lord Almen searched for the man’s eyes, but could not find them. He wanted any reason to kill a man, any man would do. But McKnight he needed. He let the detective go and sat down in thoughtful repose. He dipped a jeweled goblet into his wine bowl.
“It is assassination, then?” Evil vermin, those assassins, but not all.
“I believe so, lord, but who and why is curious.”
“That much I know, fool.”
Lord Almen folded his arms and leaned back into his cushions.
“I believe I shall deal with this without your help, Detective McKnight. In the meantime make sure this recent debacle of my son’s death does not get out, especially to my wife.”
Lord Almen waved his hand.
“You are dismissed.”
*****
Detective McKnight could not have been more relieved. Let him find his deviant son’s killers. That way my back will be covered, not buried.
Detective McKnight was one of the finest in the business, having done the dirty work for many Royal families for over twenty-five years. He had seen the worst. This mess, however, was unique. Whatever had killed the foolish Tonio was no assassin of a Royal house. It was perhaps a clever setup, though. It seemed more likely that Tonio had gotten caught up with the wrong locals. It happens.
McKnight knew all too well, from experience, that the City of Bone contained people and creatures that even the mighty Royal houses should not mess with. But they would never believe that. They never would believe a commoner such as himself. They’ll have plenty of time to think it over in the grave.
Dozens of scenarios were running through his mind. He strode through the castle like a ghost in black garb, stroking his thin sideburns and pointed chin. A thin film of sweat built up on his pallid face. Lord Almen was one of the few who made him nervous. He looked straight ahead as he passed the hard stares of the sentries in the exiting corridor. Morons.
McKnight, unlike most in his profession, enjoyed the limelight. He suspected that this was why Almen had hired him long ago. He knew how to handle delicate matters … in the dark. He stepped out from under a small portcullis and into the streets of the city.
“Whew?” he said, scratching a small bald spot on the crown of his head. He had to find out more though. Who killed Tonio? That information would be worth something. It might even get him room in the castle. But first … a drink. He put on his wide black hat and disappeared into the city, singing a cheerful melody, “Ding Dong the brat is gone ...”
CHAPTER 31
Chongo’s four ears were perked up like horns as his tails moved in rigid unison. Venir could hear his dog’s low howls. Melegal reigned in Quickster along Chongo’s side, tucking his nose inside his cowl. The foul air cut through the colored leaves. Venir stood on the grassy plateau holding his hand out in warning. This was no normal breeze.
The wind picked up around the group and Chongo began to howl louder at the whine of the whipping wind. The party stood firm. Georgio clutched on Chongo’s saddle horn, shaking on the dog’s back. The howling wind began tearing at their clothes, louder and louder it came. Venir squinted his eyes, but he couldn’t see a thing. The wind knocked him around a bit as he grabbed Georgio and held him tight.
He yelled for Melegal, “Hang onto to something!”
It must have gone on for over a minute before the wind died. Venir looked about and saw Melegal adjusting his hat. Then he saw them come.
He heard a whoosh, like broken branches flying in the wind. Several floating figures in earthen robes hovered above the ground, encircling the party. Venir tried to make out the forest magi’s hooded faces as he watched them going in circles around them. He had no idea what race they were. It could have been any or none. That is what he had been told.
“Don’t anyone make any sudden moves,” Venir said. “Just be still.”
He wanted to drop his hand over the hilt of his knife. He tugged at the reigns instead. Chongo pressed his ears dow
n and rumbled growls while Quickster chewed on a piece of grass.
“Where are their feet?” Georgio whispered.
Venir elbowed him.
The magi came to a stop. Two of the misshapen figures floated toward Venir, Chongo, and Georgio. Another set bore down on Melegal and Quickster. Venir saw Melegal reaching for something.
“Don’t move, it’s okay,” Venir warned.
Melegal sat like a stone, a scowl crossing his slender face.
Like greedy thieves, the four forest magi pawed and rummaged through all of their belongings. Their groping was uncomfortable, but the smell was worse. Rancid breath filled Venir’s nostrils and he heard Georgio gagging behind his back.
“Vee!” said Melegal, pleading as the magi turned his sack upside down, spilling the contents to the ground.
“Hold off … I don’t think they’ll take anything.”
“Easy for you to say, you don’t—”
“—Ssh thief! For all I know they speak our tongue. We won’t have what they want.”
One of the forest magi’s was shaking Venir’s large leather sack up and down.
Oh no.
If something fell out, the fight was on. He waited for Brool to drop out. Nothing fell. He watched the magi toss it away. He swore he heard a clank, but all the clatter elsewhere covered the sound. Venir let out a soft sigh.
He watched the magi’s search unwind. All of their meager belongings were picked through and dropped. The magi circled around them in silence once more, and broke off into a uniform column and disappeared back into the Red Clay Forest. The stink was gone.
The normal forest sounds resumed, and Chongo’s twin tails wagged again. Quickster was still chewing at the ground, but all of their supplies were now strewn about the forest floor.
“Whew!” Georgio said. “What were those nasty things?”
“Forest Magi!” Venir said, picking up his knife and jamming it in his sheath.
“Oh … then what were they looking for, Vee?” Georgio asked, retrieving some items.
“Magic, no doubt. They’re whores for magic, those smelly fiends. That’s why they live here.”
Venir picked up his large leather sack.
“Why?” the boy said.
“It’s isolated and the forest is supposedly magical. I don’t know if it is, but then again, it doesn’t change like the rest.”
Venir began to pick up more provisions.
“So I’m told.”
Venir noticed Melegal was making no effort to help.
“What’s the matter, Me? Did they rob you of your magic hands?”
Melegal sat motionless, his face dark with emotion.
“Your hat!” Venir exclaimed. Georgio gasped.
At that, Melegal unleashed a fury of profanities never before heard in the Red Clay Forest. For a minute Melegal ranted in an unbroken stream, until at last his outburst began to subside. He stopped, took a breath, and turned on Venir.
Venir was not there. In his place was the form of a brutish muscled man, wearing a spiked helmet, a round shield, and massive battle axe. It was a chilling sight.
The words from the man’s lips were scary and reassuring.
“I‘ll get it back.”
Melegal and Georgio stepped out of his way.
CHAPTER 32
Trinos was pleased with her world, Bish. Whenever she checked in, it seemed to be stuck deep in a mud puddle of chaos. Yet it was not as entertaining as she had hoped, because she knew what was going to happen most of the time. She remembered something from other worlds that they had called repeats; so still she watched, even when she had seen it all before. She liked the people.
But sometimes a ripple here and there would catch her off guard, for good and evil were always somewhat unpredictable. It was those precious thrills that gave her world meaning. The infinite ones had escaped from good and evil over time, as their eternal life transcended it. So it seemed.
Whenever Trinos saw that things had become too mundane, she would place a ripple in the world—a new creature, race, or ecosystem—and come back later to see what effect it caused. This proved the most effective way to keep things interesting, or to create the feeling she had once referred to as fun. It was unique how the life on the world of Bish always reacted to her interventions. The balance would tip in favor of good or of evil. Currently, things were much in favor of evil. So Trinos had her tool in place to protect the good for the time being. And it was a bloody creative tool at that.
CHAPTER 33
Venir took off in a flat run, angling to cut off the forest magi somewhere down the winding paths. His bulk achieved amazing speed as his ragged hair waved like a banner underneath his helm. His unusual breadth was deceptive as he could shoot off in a blink.
“I gotta see this,” said Georgio, dashing after Venir as fast as his chubby legs would carry him.
“Crap.”
Melegal placed Quickster’s reins in one of Chongo’s mouths and hurried after Georgio in several quick bounds.
It wasn’t long before the pair was caught up in the thatches and began to slow. Melegal’s ears were keen, though, and what he might not see, the seasoned thief could hear.
In the distance Venir had stopped. He had almost overrun the pinched path where he intended to cut off the forest magi. He knew the forest well enough to track them down. He stood on stout legs, shoulder width, with a slight bend in his knees. His helmet was keen to his needs, but it didn’t feel like a boiling pot on his head. Not like the underlings, but different. He was in control, but his anger was far from in check.
He laid his banded shield behind him while Brool twirled in his left arm, cutting the air in short strokes. His head rolled, making his neck crackle as he grumbled beneath his black-spiked helm. The forest grew quiet and a score of birds flew away as the magi rounded the bend in the path.
The tallest of the forest magi floated forward, twirled around, making odd gestures with its hands. Venir flexed his grip on his axe, his arm muscles pulsating, thick blue veins rising like small roots. He had played their games before, but he didn’t always win. What’s it gonna be this time? The rest of the magi began forming two columns on opposite sides of the path, centered on their leader.
“One of you took something that was not yours,” Venir said in growl. “I will be taking it back!”
The forest magi weren’t known to take material things, such as a commoners cap. This was considered dishonorable among them. However, though they loved magic, they were greedy little pests, and were not often challenged about what they took. Most would leave the forest magi alone as the fear of the unknown gripped them. Travelers were often happy for the inconvenience as they felt their lives were spared.
The forest magi, greasy and unkempt, were the bullies of the forest. They did what they pleased. Only a fool would tangle with a pack of magic wielding misfit’s. Then again, most people weren’t the Darkslayer, who had faced more than his share of terrors.
Venir watched as one lone forest magi floated forward from the back of one of the columns. Much shorter than the others, the magi came alongside his leader and removed his hood. Venir could make out a human face covered in bright red blemishes. A nasty grin crossed the little magi’s face revealing missing teeth and a swollen tongue licking dirty lips. Atop the magi’s mangy tufts of red hair sat Melegal’s floppy hat.
The little man spread his arms wide, pointing outward, and brought his fingertips to the hat and started tapping it. The forest magi began to tap his chest and twirl while waving the hat in the air.
Venir’s temper began to unshackle at the sight of the creatures countenance. He strode towards the magi, axe drawn behind his back. Each time he drew back to swing, the forest magi floated out of reach, grinning and making childish sounds. The gruesome magi weaved in and out of his kindred, taking off the hat and waving at Venir’s face.
Despite his experience, he could not square up on the floating man for a single swipe. He knew that he wa
s being set up for something. That was how their kind worked, and these were magi after all. Time began to tick as he felt their mutterings inside his head. If something didn’t happen soon, they would be gone, or he would be dead.
*****
Melegal and Georgio had crept up on the scene, peaking from the brush. To Melegal’s surprise, Georgio wasn’t making a sound. The thief watched as a mage was doing a strange dance of sorts. It’s wearing my hat! Fury began to swell in his belly as he watched the remaining forest magi stare, captivated by the spectacle. Melegal’s keen ears realized that the magi were not just watching. They were muttering underneath their hoods. He nudged the boy, dangling a sling in front of him, and Georgio followed suit. Melegal eyes darted back at the magi as he withdrew some stones. The magi seemed preoccupied, unaware of their presence.
“I’ll take the one with the hat. You take the tall one,” Melegal whispered.
Georgio gave several quick nods, brushing his hair from his eyes. It was a rare thing when Melegal felt his heart in his chest. Ten of those things, Bone! He low crawled over to a clearing as the boy squirmed behind him. He looked back and watched the thick beads of sweat drop from the boy’s brow. His breathing became shallow and rapid. Calm. He closed his eyes and thought of a burning candle. He blew it out and his body began to cool. Better to die doing something than nothing.
The Darkslayer: Book 01 - Wrath of the Royals Page 16
