Verbard’s saw the grave look in his brother’s eye. His situation was more serious than he was ever accustomed to. Something else flickered in the gold rim of his brothers eyes too. Now would be an excellent opportunity for Catten to kill him. He would be tempted to do the same. Verbard watched with caution as Catten walked back over to the ledge of the cave mouth.
Catten let out a shriek.
Verbard dragged himself up to his feet and took several agonizing steps back to the ledge. “What now? Is he not dead yet?”
He was aghast. He saw one Blood Ranger and the two-headed dog fighting the lone Vicious. The man, the Darkslayer was still on the ground, surrounded by crying faces. Please be dead! The Blood Rangers were routing the Badoon underlings. He was aghast with disappointment. At his side, Catten trembled with rage.
“We have to finish him now, Verbard. Not a shred shall remain,” Catten said. “We may not get another chance!”
Verbard was grim. He need all of his energy to keep his own heart beating.
“I have nothing for you, brother,” said Verbard. “I need all my strength to get home. Do what you can, and do it now.”
The air began to shimmer with energy as Catten began a new incantation. Verbard felt the Darkslayer’s end was near.
CHAPTER 89
Venir felt nothing. He heard nothing. He saw nothing. Everything he was seemed to seep somewhere else. There were memories, faces and moments drifting in his mind. It all appeared in a distant haze only to break up like smoke in the wind. He was ready to go to the abyss of the unknown ….
Thump. He heard a faint heartbeat and the burning of his skin mending together. Thump-Thump! His heartbeat began to grow louder and faster, his blood igniting everything from his head to his toes. The sounds of battle in his ears awoke him from darkness. Cries and sobs were nearby. Something powerful felt white hot on his head, but it didn’t burn. His eyes snapped open to the blood smeared and bewildered face of Melegal.
Venir gasped in a huge gulp of air and his color began to return. He lurched upright into a sitting position and rose to his feet. His blazing eyes searched for the creature that put him in the ground. It was there, trapped between two of his oldest friends. His helmet no longer burned, his mind was his own and his body was whole again. The Darkslayer was back.
Venir extended his hand to Georgio.
“Give me my axe, boy.”
The boy dropped the handle in his awaiting hand.
The Vicious chomped its jaws, up and down, baring its teeth when Venir rushed out to greet it. He was unfettered and determined to kill it. It hissed then surged his way. Venir braced himself, arms springs of steel, axe ready to split the monster like a log. A loud chime of warning rang inside his head.
Thunder cracked from a distant rocky hilltop, and lightning exploded beneath his feet in a blinding flash. Everyone was knocked to the ground, and chunks of rock and debris were falling from the air. Venir was down and stunned as the thunder continued to roll and winds swirled above the battlefield. He could hear Chongo howling as he struggled back onto his feet. Whatever sent the magic must have missed.
The others lay still on the ground, struggling to regain their feet. Venir could see Mood, Melegal and Lefty, but where was Georgio. There was a clicking sound coming from nearby. The Vicious was clutching its nails and holding the big boy in its grasp. The Vicious had seized its opportunity, snatched up the curly-locked Georgio by his neck, dangling the screaming and kicking boy in front of his eyes. Venir saw Georgio’s face going purple as he stood there dumbfounded.
The Vicious hissed out an evil laugh and ran a clawed finger across the boy’s throat, cutting it wide open. Venir felt like he had been stabbed in the heart as he cried out, “NOOO!”
It dropped Georgio to the ground, where he lay in a growing pool of his own blood. The Vicious was snickering in its own evil and delightful way. Melegal and Lefty screamed as Mood howled in outrage. Venir went on a rampage.
The monster cackled as it ducked and dodged from Venir’s blade. Brool’s keen edge got closer and closer with each swing. Venir wasn’t going to let it get away. He would have vengeance. The Vicious could not run, for Mood and Chongo kept him corralled. It had no choice but to face Venir.
Then, quick as a cobra, the powerful creature leapt at Venir, hands clutching for his throat.
SLICE!
One Vicious hand was gone, but another came.
SLICE!
Off came the other. The Vicious wailed in rage.
RIP!
The mocking maul of the evil creature fell to the ground.
CHOP!
CHOP!
Brool cut into bone and marrow.
CHOP!
CHOP!
CHOP!
That was for Georgio.
It was over in a few seconds and the Vicious moved no more.
It had all happened in seconds, but it had seemed much longer. Nothing remained of the Vicious but a blackened heap and two severed hands.
All the while, Melegal held Georgio’s limp body in his arms, his head in his lap, with Lefty giving what aid or comfort he could. Tears were streaming down Lefty’s face. His makeshift bandages were soaked red around Georgio’s neck. Melegal’s face was filled with anguish.
Venir rushed along the boy’s side. Georgio’s face was sunken and listless.
Lefty cried, “You have to save him! He can’t die!”
Venir took off his helmet and lowered it towards his young friend’s head. Tears or sweat streaked down his grimy cheeks. He was torn with his own personal agony.
The boy coughed up blood, then some more. Melegal pulled the boy up and patted him on the back. Georgio screamed.
“Save me, Vee! Save me!”
Venir dropped the helmet and grabbed the boy in his arms.
“Georgio, you’re alive!”
Venir’s eyes were as wide as the boys.
“Let me see your neck!”
He gently removed the bandages. The boy’s neck was caked with drying blood, but the nasty slash was closed and healed, almost as if nothing had happened. Venir fell back onto his seat in rapture.
“By the giants of Bish! You’re a Regener, Georgio! You’re gonna be fine boy!”
Georgio hugged him tight, refusing to let go. Venir let the boy get it all out.
“He’s a what?” asked Melegal, who was busy trying to rub filth off his clothes.
“He’s a self-healer, he regenerates. I kinda suspected it long ago. Anyway, he’s gonna be your friend for a long, long time, Melegal. And I don’t think we could get rid of Georgio if we tried! And I wouldn’t want to, either!” he said, still hugging the boy and rubbing his head.
“Oh great,” Melegal said keeping his head down, trying to hide his watery eyes. Mood showed a glint of yellow teeth behind his bearded face. Lefty jumped onto Georgio’s back shouting with glee. Chongo was busy devouring the remains of the Vicious. Venir noticed that they all were gathered around an edge of smoldering crater. He grabbed his helmet and axe.
CHAPTER 90
“I cannot believe this, Verbard. I cannot believe this,” Catten said, shouting and trembling in outrage.
“We had him, Catten. We had him. And now we have lost a brigade of our finest underling fighters, as well as Master Sinway’s precious pets, the Vicious.”
“My spell did not make a direct hit! It faltered!” Catten spluttered, dumbfounded. “And that human boy appears to have revived!”
“Something has changed this day, brother,” Verbard’s voice was weak and raspy. “Something does not add up. Does that make sense to you?”
“Yes, I think it does. You have no time to spare, however. We must go now.”
Verbard was relieved at his brother’s words. He had no desire to die at the Warfield. He nodded as he offered what magic power he could. The two brothers began concentrating, and blinked out of the cave. It was the first step of a strenuous journey back to the Underland.
CHAPTER 91
No more lightning came from the distance and Venir sensed no more danger nearby. Only a smoking pit of busted rock and shining globs of glass remained. Instead, he assisted in aid to those who were left alive.
Only four Blood Rangers remained at the Warfield, plus their king, Mood. In no other battle had more than two Blood Rangers ever died. But not a single underling hunter from the Badoon Brigade remained. When Venir arrived the Blood Rangers had been able to rally and carve up the underlings who foundered.
Still, the loss of eight Blood Rangers did not seem possible, and Mood was left wondering about this. The past few days had seen strange events, and many people of all races everywhere on Bish had begun to take note of this, including the halfling Lefty Lightfoot.
Georgio was shaken, but the curvy dwarven ladies cleaned him up and calmed his young nerves with their soothing touches. Melegal, Lefty, Mood, and Venir were all amazed that he lived and had not the slightest scar as evidence that he had almost died.
Venir himself had scars all over, but the ones inflicted by Vicious would prove the worst of them all. Venir’s thoughts went back to the lightning.
“Did anyone notice where that lightning came from?” he asked.
“I saw it come from that mountain hill.” Georgio pointed.
“I wonder if that’s something we need to check out. Any ideas?” Venir said.
Melegal didn’t hesitate to offer.
“Yeah, let’s get back to Bone. That’s been my idea all along.” The thief had a sound of cheer in his voice as he was sipping on a flask of dwarven ale.
“Well, I recall it was your idea to leave in the first place. And look at you, not a scratch on you anywhere!” Venir said, taking the buckskin flask from his friend and sucking it dry.
“It was your fault we had to leave. And I avoid booboos, unlike you, the human pincushion.”
“Come to think of it, I don’t even remember why we left!” Venir said, tossing the thief the empty flask.
“I’ll refresh your memory on the way back, then.”
A dwarven woman with big hips and thick lips, standing almost four feet tall, brought him another flask and began rubbing his shoulders. The thief was putty in her strong little hands.
“Thanks, Melegal.” Venir said, “I’m looking forward to it already.”
“Can I come?”
Lefty Lightfoot had been so quiet he was all but forgotten; he had been busy writing something all along. Venir and Melegal looked at each other.
“Shall we let Georgio decide?” suggested Venir.
“Oh … he’s definitely coming!” The big boy was rubbing his neck and looking all about. “But what about the mountain that shoots lightning?”
“It doesn’t appear to be shooting lightning right now, and I don’t feel like fighting any mountains tonight,” Venir answered. He just wanted to put this entire saga behind him. He had had enough sun and sand to last a lifetime. But he knew such was his life on Bish.
“Me either,” Georgio said. “And I really hate underlings now, Vee. I’m glad I’m not dead. I‘d have missed you guys. What would’ve happened if I was dead?”
Venir shrugged. He had no answer for that.
“Let’s have no more close calls, eh … Georgio. Let’s get you back home, safe and sound. But we’ll take a trip back to the big city, first. Sound good?”
“Yes!” Georgio, Lefty, and Melegal all agreed.
CHAPTER 92
Royal Lord Almen had so busy that he had not given much thought to the absence of McKnight, Oran, and Tonio. But now he began to wonder if he would ever see them again. His son Tonio had been the pride of the Castle Almen, and although his new condition did not bode well for him, Tonio was still useful.
Detective McKnight had always been a resourceful ally and henchman, and his loss would be difficult to replace. It was something Almen did not need at the moment while he was under pressure from rival houses. He needed all of the loyal bodies he could find, and his son and McKnight were two of them.
Underling Oran he could do without, however, for he could not be trusted. It had occurred to Almen when they left that it might be the last time he saw any of them. He hoped that he had not been right. In the meantime, he got back to his normal daily activities. He would find out about them soon enough, he decided.
*****
McKnight’s body lay motionless and still. He was in pain, paralyzed and wheezing softly through his nose. The poison hadn’t killed him, but he wished it had. Night had fallen and a sound foreign to his ears began to crawl inside his brain.
Several spider-like beings the size of large dogs scurried down the massive trees and surrounded him. These strange creatures had never before been seen on Bish. They had the bodies of tarantulas, but the torsos of humans, with arms and heads much like people. The faces of these creatures were like those of other men on Bish, except that they had paired eyes like those of insects, and two small antennas protruding from their heads that were covered in jet-black hair. They carried small spears and had no need for clothing.
McKnight tried to recoil as he was drug along the ground. He thought he caught a glimpse of a man’s face staring back at him. He didn’t realize it was Tonio. Two of the arachna-men lifted each body off of the ground, while two others stood before the men and began blowing at them.
McKnight felt himself spinning around. The creatures opened their mouths wide and threads of spider silk emerged and began winding around him. No! No! Noooo! He was enclosed in a cocoon, gathered up and carried high into the giant tree tops of the great forest.
CHAPTER 93
A fresh pot of coffee brewed in the apartment room above the Drunken Octopus inside the City of Bone. The room had little of worth, a small cupboard alongside an iron stove, a round table and four hapless chairs, a couple of cots and some blankets and pillows. It was very warm, but compared to the Outlands it was paradise.
Lefty Lightfoot took the least room. He was sitting cross-legged in a corner, his deft hand writing on a sheet of parchment. He had felt compelled to chronicle all that they did. He asked question after question of Venir in particular, all of which Venir was more than happy to relate. The big man enjoyed having his own personal scribe and Lefty found him very entertaining after his reveling. It took some getting used to, but he began to feel safe inside of the City of Bone. It was there he had friends he knew he could count on.
Melegal lay stretched out on his cot, a jug of wine by his side, the smell of sweet perfume on his clothes. The women of Bone had something to offer that he swore he’d never part with again. If someone came for him again, he’d crawl into the sewers first. But maybe, just maybe he’d adventure to the City of Three.
Melegal had run out of complaints about the last adventure, and decided to give Venir a break. He couldn’t help but notice that his friend had suffered more than he let on. The wounds ran deep from the last battle, and the near loss of Georgio had frightened them all. But it was clear that Venir was affected the most. Everyday Venir swore he’d take Georgio home, but he couldn’t do it, much to Melegal’s chagrin. The boy wasn’t half bad though, at least he made a good pot of coffee, not that Melegal ever said so.
Georgio was not much worse for wear. He sat at the round table and sliced his finger open with a knife. It hurt, more like a sting, as he watched the wound close in seconds. It amazed him every time. He stuffed his third piece of pie in his face and washed it down with a glass of warm milk in one big gulp. Then he patted his belly. The Warfield was more than a mere memory now. From time to time, he woke up at night coated in sweat and screaming. But a friend was always there, and getting back to sleep was never a problem.
Venir sat at the small table as well, smiling at Georgio. He was having a conversation with Georgio, but not listening to a word the boy had to say. Instead he wondered about how many underlings he had killed and how many more he still had to kill. He didn’t realize it wasn’t something he ever thought about before. He reached over to the s
tove and grabbed the pot of coffee, refilling his cup.
Venir was leery and protective of the people in his room. Guilt had crept inside him and responsibility ate at him. He wasn’t comfortable with such thoughts. A man of the Outlands can’t survive on such soft feelings. Bish took who it pleased and there was nothing he could do about that. Just smile and laugh, an old friend had told him, it makes people think everything is alright.
Recreation and relaxation wasn’t such a bad thing either. The women and ale had never tasted sweeter. Venir watched Georgio go over and lay down on the blankets beside his cot. The boy would be fine. He got up, heading for the door, and Melegal’s soft footsteps fell in behind. Lefty waved his feathered quill and out the door they went.
For the changed world of Bish would not wait long before thrusting its greatest hero, the Darkslayer, back into the field. The days ahead would all be different now, more treacherous than before. Scorch had sent a ripple of change throughout the world and nothing could turn them back. The mystic leather sack lay undisturbed underneath Venir’s cot. Inside its sanctuary, the Darkslayer’s shield, helm, and his great axe Brool lay quiet waiting to be called upon again. But someone who had once possessed armament was on a mission to find them once again.
CHAPTER 94
It took everything underling Lord Catten had not to shake. He had been on a single knee, beaten and stripped, head down for what seemed to be days. All he heard was his brother’s ragged breath who knelt by his side, trembling and sick. Verbard had been healed soon after they made their return back to the Underland. Verbard’s body had paid a price and Catten could only see a dull reflection in his brother’s once bright silver eyes.
The Darkslayer: Book 01 - Wrath of the Royals Page 34
