*****
Venir was taking a pounding. The relentless attack was wearing down his inner fury. His chest labored, while his opponents didn’t seem to have the same need for air. They came on like a flood as he restrained himself, fighting the urge to release his own assault. He was waiting for the right moment to strike, but every time he blinked something was surging his way.
The whispers of an underling spellcaster hummed in Venir’s ears. It was a beacon of fire in his mind. Tonio’s tireless blows still hammered into his shield in a chronic rhythm. The one eyed creature stilled zipped in and out. It was time to let it all out.
Venir parried and countered with Brool as the imp flew in, nicking a leathery wing, sending the mystic creature hissing in retreat. Venir whirled and roared like a tiger, as Tonio’s sword clanged one more time off of his shield. Tonio’s corded arms were raised high, face mired with hatred and scars, lips letting out a wrath-filled groan. Venir watched the man’s arms begin to thrust down, dead eyes unblinking. Venir bellowed as he swung Brool in return with all of his might.
Slice!
Tonio’s face remained unchanged as his arms were both cut off at the elbows. The Royal lord’s fresh stumps went on chopping the air with vigor, up and down. Astonishment and anguish set in the man’s eyes moments later. The remaining shred of humanity flashed in the young man’s eyes as he looked up, the axe blade coming from high. Venir brought Brool down with such force it cleaved the man’s head and body in two. One half of Tonio fell to the left and the other to the right. That better do it. More buzzing combined with a screech of fury was coming from behind.
Venir whirled, jabbing his spike as he turned, impaling the screaming imp through the chest.
Crunch!
It squealed as its ribs cracked. It was the first good look Venir got of the thing. Powerful claws were clutching at him, a large red eye burned at him. It was the essence of evil. The thing dangled on the spike, trying to push itself off. Venir’s laugh was gruesome and he charged deeper into the forest.
*****
Oran was feeling a renewed sense of confidence and power. Time seemed to be at his command, and everything seemed to take place in slow motion; he had never felt such magic within him. It was as if the gates that held the magic of Bish had burst open for him. It was unexplainable and delicious. He waited for the Darkslayer to enter his path so he could wipe this brutish human from the face of Bish forever.
The Darkslayer charged into his clearing. He saw Eep was skewered like a chicken for a roast. Oran heard Eep screaming.
“Now you will die, human! Drop your axe and surrender, fool!”
The Darkslayer’s eyelets were like black fire.
“No, you all die today!” Venir bellowed.
The imp was laughing scornfully as the Darkslayer hoisted Brool high above his head and charged into Oran’s path. Oran felt the hatred grow in his belly and fuel his power. He was screaming aloud now, his spell fully prepared, and his triumph imminent. Power filled him like a blast of hot air. Trees limbs bowed and leaves blustered all around.
“Die now, Darkslayer, at the hand of the great underling—Oran!”
A bolt of red-blue fire shot straight at the Darkslayer as he swung down his axe.
“No!” screamed Eep as the spike caught the bolt, frying the thrashing imp into blackened char. The imp was gone, but the man remained.
Oran howled in rage.
“Impossible!”
The bolt should have destroyed the axe and the man. Instead, its blast had knocked the warrior flat onto his back, intact. The smell of fried flesh and hair was heavy in the air. Oran stared wide-eyed at the brute still gripping the axe, body smoking on the ground at the end of the scorched path. One more spell should finish off the prone man once and for all.
Oran was on his own now. His imp was blasted to smithereens, the man chopped asunder. The scourge of the underlings was knocked flat, chest laboring up and down, feet shaking. He’s mine, Oran thought. All mine. He summoned more of the world’s energy into his finger tips. It came slow, easy and willing, filling him from head to toe. Oran wanted the power wipe to out everything that lived and breathed within a mile. One final shot is all he needed.
He eyed the twitching figure on the forest floor, hungry to turn the Darkslayer into a crater of flesh and steel. It was Oran’s time for glory now. His eyes turned to violet-black saucers as the Darkslayer rolled onto one knee.
*****
Venir felt like a piece of shattered glass. Pain coursed through his hardened body, his finger tips were numb. His mouth tasted like metal and his ears rung. He saw the axe in his grip as he lay on his shield. His sluggish mind urged a warning. The underling was near. It felt like an army of them. Move or die. There were no other options. His body was longing to rest, his mind lusting for revenge. His survival instincts would not let him give in, not until he was dead.
He rolled onto one knee.
A radiant swirl of energy surrounded a robed underling whose small hands were rolling before his chest. Venir took a deep painful breath. The black eyes of the hairy underling bore into him, boiling him with rage. His pain was replaced with the urge to destroy the underling. The underling chittered like a hundred voices, waving his robed arms high in the air.
Venir’s leg’s felt as heavy as iron as he sprang to his feet lifting Brool high above his head and charged. The underling wavered back a step as Venir ran like an angry bull. He watched Oran’s hands slap into the air, a crackle came and a burst of brilliant light shot forth. Venir jerked up his shield and dived to the ground. He felt the shield ripped away from his arm, his breath knocked from his lungs. Everything was black and the world was ringing all around him.
He gasped for air, saw fire, and then patted the flames from his clothes. The blonde hairs on his arms were tiny black curls and his teeth hurt. He could see the underling screaming at him now, like a muted nightmare.
Then he heard it, something unnatural that could be heard for miles. The hideous shriek should have torn out his eardrums, if not for the helm he wore. His stomach twisted into sour knots at the horrifying mystic siren. Somehow, he rose from the ground, Brool still in hand, storming against the sound and down the seared path. The underlings filed teeth hung in the shouting maul like daggers as Venir delivered the final swing. Brool struck into the side of Oran’s screaming head, slicing it off between his eyes and nose. Black blood gurgled from the top as the silenced body collapsed on the forest floor.
Venir stood shaking. Only his boots and his shorts remained. His chainmail was scattered in chunks and links on the burnt path. Scorch marks and red welts rose on the rippling muscles of his torso. His giant V remained unscathed between the breadths of his shoulder blades. His purple veins pulsated, and the blood and gore was baked red and black all over him. He looked as if he had just crawled out of the mouth of a volcano. He was the picture of every raw, wild, and powerful element on Bish. Brool hung in his right hand, and his blue eyes still blazed through the eyelets. His chinstrap was still tight under his grizzled chin.
A hundred sets of eyes watched from high above as he banged Brool’s spike onto the heel of his boot, knocking the charred remains of the imp off. He inhaled and groaned. Then he tried to spit the taste of metal from his mouth. He inhaled painfully again, filling his powerful chest with the hot night air. He let out a bellowing battle cry so loud and deep, that time seemed to stop until it was finished. The throbbing in his head subsided as he tried to remember where he was. Another concern came his way. Something was wrong. Where was Melegal?
CHAPTER 78
Chongo’s four ears perked up. An inhuman shriek was cutting through the forest. Lefty was covering his ears, stomach in twisted knots. The halfling looked around, dizzy, his blue eyes rolling up in his head. The sound stabbed in the back of his mind, a meaty hand gripped him as he began to sag. Then the horrible sound was gone. Lefty’s stomach curled as Georgio puked on the ground. Everything seemed to stop for a long
moment as they tried to regain their senses.
“What was that?!” Georgio gasped and then gagged again.
“Turn back!” Lefty wailed, panic-stricken, with one hand over his eyes and a finger in his ear. “I can’t take it, make this beast turn around!”
But Georgio held him tight.
“Don’t worry, Mood and Chongo won’t let anything happen to us!”
The grizzle-faced Mood just grunted through his red beard. Chongo lay down; ears flat, a low wine could be heard. The giant dwarf urged the dog back on all fours. Lefty hung onto the saddle horn, Georgio still sitting behind him. They moved on, between the massive tree trunks, at a brisker pace.
A feint human-like roar reached his ears. Chongo’s feet began to stammer ahead, his tails wagging back and forth in excitement. Mood turned back with smile as Chongo howled. Georgio gave a reassuring squeeze on Lefty’s shoulders causing him to lurch. Georgio was yelling in his ear saying, “Lefty, you’re gonna meet my big buddy!”
“Oh …” he said, wishing when he met Georgio he’d kept on running.
Lefty rolled his neck back, peering upward in the ceiling a blackened leaves. Something was moving from high above. He hoped it was just a roost of birds. But it was not.
CHAPTER 79
A bone chilling sound had thrown Melegal from Quickster’s saddle. The pony bucked and he was sent reeling to the ground. He was covering his ears and choking back bile. He lay there for moments, sucking in his breath after the painful sound was gone. His legs felt like jelly as he got up. He heard another cry, more human this time. It took several more minutes before Quickster would budge.
Melegal trotted through the forest towards the thunderous cracks, screams, and howls he had heard. He choked down his fears; there was nowhere else to go. The forest was black as night, but his eyes were a good as a man could have. He moved on towards the last sound he heard.
The battle cry had to have come from the lungs of Venir. A warming thought of returning to Bone began to dance in his head. It was the simple things about the City of Bone that Melegal enjoyed so much. He pilfered his wants and needs. He tickled the toes of wanton women. He sipped from goblets of the finest wines. He was always one step ahead of the authorities. Now, with McKnight out the picture, there could only be more to come. A satisfying smile crossed his thin lips. He rubbed the pommels of the twin swords on his hips. It was good to have his Sisters back. Now all he had to do was get his arse out of the forest.
Quickster slowed, interrupting his daydreams. There were cobwebs all around. His homesickness intensified as he took a deep swallow. He heard soft movements in the monstrous branches high above. Quickster nickered as he slowly weaved in and out among the web-covered trees. The cobwebs were disintegrating, but Melegal was as stiff as a board.
A clearing opened up ahead. His gray eyes made out a hulking silhouette coming his way; a familiar figure with a spiked helm and axe. Melegal could see a white smile reflecting in the faint moonlight.
“Hah!” roared the silhouette. “A great night in the forest, Me!”
Melegal gave the man a hard look. Venir looked like he was just spit out of a furnace. He could see dried blood, and long scabs scattered all over the man’s half-naked frame. He didn’t care.
He couldn’t hold back his outrage, his fists were shaking. Melegal let it out.
“You go berserk and run off! My pony does the same! I get stuck in this jungle, trapped against all odds! McKnight! Do you remember him from Bone—you idiot!?”
Venir’s faced was pinched in thought as Melegal continued.
“Well … I had to kill him and then come and try to save your butt—great night!”
Melegal felt better, waiting to hear what his friend had to say. He waited for Venir to lay back into him like an overbearing ogre. Maybe split him in two. Venir just stood there, emotionless.
“You killed someone from Bone? McKnight?”
The big man paused, scratching his chin.
“Good!” Venir added with a slap on his shoulder. “Then I guess that’s the last of them. I don’t figure anyone else it still looking for us. But it’s not time to run back home just yet, Me.”
Melegal rolled his eyes.
“Great.”
How much longer would he have to wait things out? It seemed like this had been the longest week of his life.
“Come, take a look at who I killed here. It’s that Tonio guy from the Chimera and the stables.”
Melegal’s face was aghast. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a man cut in twain like that before. Tonio’s body lay in two equal parts, his innards’ seeping toward the ground. Venir picked up one of the man’s arms and waved it at him.
“Shouldn’t he have been dead already? You almost beat him to death, and then Chongo chewed him to death. How does that work?”
“Magic, Me. Evil, powerful, magic. Take a look.”
Melegal looked at the corpse, split down the middle with arms cut off at the elbows. As horrible as it appeared, Tonio had bled very little at all. A chill ran up Melegal’s spine.
“Vee, that is some serious magic. He was already dead when you killed him—or killed him again, that is. Who has that kind of power?”
“Well, did you hear that battle earlier?”
Melegal nodded saying, “I heard something awful, don’t know if I’d call it a battle.”
“That’s who, is my guess.”
He pointed at the robed corpse of Oran.
“That was an underling, very powerful. Certainly the most powerful I’ve ever crossed. He’s dead as a rock now, though. I’m more concerned that an underling and a human were both coming after us.”
“Or after the Darkslayer.”
What had Venir got him into? Melegal felt the pressing need to head back to Bone. There were no underlings there, or were there? Melegal didn’t know what to think, but he’d rather be home.
“It’s strange. This alliance makes no sense. And you didn’t even see the other thing?’ Venir said.
“What other thing?”
“An imp I believe.”
Melegal shook his head saying, “So now what?”
“We make a fire and find something to eat. I’m starving.”
“Good.”
The surrounding sounds of the Great Forest of Bish had returned to normal. The owls hooted and the crickets chirped while the orange fire glowed. It was only a small camp fire, but its warmth and light softened Melegal’s always stern expression. The pale, skinny man from the City of Bone lay back against the furry black belly of Quickster. All was well in the forest, leaving Venir alone in his thoughts.
Venir squatted, stoking the fire with a stick. He was concerned that he had dragged his friend bone deep in all of his affairs. He was aching, his faculties stretched to the limit, but he couldn’t let that on. It was his fault. Just smile and people will think everything is okay. Someone had told him that once. It seemed to work. He would do anything to be back in Bone, soaking in some cool water, getting soaped down by a savory wench. Venir figured that was how Melegal felt most of the time. He did his best to enjoy the finer things in Bone, but the underlings seemed to call. He heard something faint over the whistling nose of Quickster. He stood up, peered around and grabbed his axe. Something was out there. He didn’t stop as he slipped by his friend, deeper into the forest.
*****
All too quickly the morning crept up on Melegal. The sounds of the awakening forest became louder with every moment. Unlike the sounds of the city, these sounds couldn’t be quashed by closing a window or a thick oaken door. Melegal rubbed his groggy face and heard loud snoring on the other side of Quickster. Somewhere he heard Venir’s low voice talking close by. Sunlight warmed his face as he rose up and began to stretch. His hand brushed against something humanoid.
“Agh!” Melegal yelled, jumping clear over the smoldering fire in one bound. With McKnight’s blades drawn, Melegal peered at a small humanoid disappearing behind Quickster.
<
br /> Then he heard Georgio yelp from behind his pony.
“Hey, get off me, Lefty. I’m trying to sleep.”
Two thunderous laughs came from behind him. It was Venir and Mood, both bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Melegal sheathed his swords with a scowl. It seemed several people had snuck up on him last night. It was an embarrassing feeling for him.
“What’s the matter, scrawny man? Got a bed bug?” Mood said in his gruff voice.
As out of place Melegal felt around the dwarf, he was glad to see him back. He waved the bushy face off with his hand.
“What was that creature, Venir?”
“That’s Georgio’s new halfling friend, Lefty,” Venir said, still chuckling.
“Hey, Me, it’s me!” Georgio popped up from the other side of Quickster, face beaming. “Meet my buddy, Lefty Lightfoot. He’s a halfling! See? Look!”
Georgio was pulling Lefty by the arm, but he halfling escaped his grasp and almost ran onto Melegal’s toes, stopping short when Melegal’s sword almost pierced his tiny neck. The halfling froze.
“Easy Melegal, he’s just greeting you. Haven’t you met a halfling before?” asked Venir.
The Darkslayer: Book 01 - Wrath of the Royals Page 30
