The Darkslayer: Book 05 - Outrage in the Outlands

by Craig Halloran

  Haze’s good eye fluttered open as she tried to say something.

  “It’s Me. Don’t talk. I’ll get you some aid, Haze.”

  Haze’s voice was garbled, and she winced as she spoke, but he could still understand what she said.

  “No. I’m fine. I’ve taken heavier beatings from Sis and Frigdah before. Just get me up and find me some wine, water or something. Oooh,” she moaned, “face feels like it got hit with a sack of gravel.”

  “It looks like it, too,” Jubilee added.

  “What?” Haze looked at the little girl, then up at Melegal. “Who in Bone is she?”

  Melegal helped Haze back to her feet. “I’ll explain when it matters. I suppose those men were looking for me?”

  “Yup,” she said, pulling out a loose tooth and flicking it away. “Why?”

  Slat! That meant either Lord Almen, Sefron or possibly the Brigand Queen were looking for him. But how had they managed to find his apartment so fast? Very little time had passed since he’d left Almen Castle. But that door, something about that door, the magic portal they sailed through. He was certain it had been later in the day when he arrived than when he'd left. At least a couple of hours had been lost. He led Haze to the living room. “What did they say?”

  “They wanted to know where they could find you.”

  “And what did you tell them?”

  Haze managed a smile. “I told them you had a woman in District Seven and you stayed there sometimes. I told them you were a dirty bastard that had a thing for bloated whores. I told them your—”

  “I get it,” he said, patting her on the backside. “Why District Seven?”

  “Just a place where someone I don’t like lives, is all.”

  “Good girl,” he said, stopping to take one last look at his apartment.

  Haze hugged his side and said, “We had good times here, didn’t we?”

  Sadly, he said, “Some of the best.”

  “You’re an awfully strange brother and sister,” Jubilee added, “but don’t worry: I have a nice place you can stay with me down in the sewers.”

  And the rat returns from whence he came.

  CHAPTER 28

  “How much longer are we going to wait out here, Billip?”

  Since being tossed from the Drunken Octopus, Georgio felt tired and agitated. The entire city, a place he’d become quite accustomed to at one time, screamed insanity. The City of Three was so much better. Now, he sat on a melon crate, twiddling his thumbs.

  “Stop fidgeting,” Billip said, cracking his knuckles for the 1000 time. “We’ll go shortly if we have to. Whatever he’s doing, he’s taking his sweet time about it. Wouldn’t surprise me if he was lost.”

  That wouldn’t surprise Georgio one bit. He’d gotten lost in Bone a few times before, himself.

  He looked up at Billip and said, “Do you ever get a funny feeling that things aren’t right? I mean, I just don’t feel like myself right now.”

  Billip slid an arrow from his quiver and started scratching the tip in the dirt. “Ah … that’s just your young loins talking. That girl, Velvet, got you all stirred up down there. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. It’ll show til the day you die. A woman does that to a—”

  “No Billip. Not that!” Georgio pressed his hands to his ears, shook his head, and then let them back down. “That’s all you and Mikkel talked about coming down here. It’s disgusting.”

  “One day, you won’t think so.” Billip smiled, then snapped his fingers. “I bet he’s with a woman!” His green eyes widened. “Oh no!”

  “What?”

  “I just remembered. I think his wife lives in this town.”

  “Mikkel’s married?” Georgio asked.

  “Used to be. Hmmm … but where in Bone would she be? You should see her. Something else.”

  Georgio leaned forward.

  “Really pretty, huh?”

  Billip made a sour face. “Bish, no! She’s squat legged like a kobold and as barrel chested as an ogre. Feisty as a hungry badger. I’d rather cut off my arm than spend a night with her.”

  “She couldn’t be that bad,” Georgio said, laughing.

  “Well, every woman has her graces. Mikkel's woman just hides hers much better than the rest. Like a squirrel hides a nut, that is.”

  Georgio chuckled so hard he fell off his crate. Billip had the funniest way of putting things. He tipped the crate back up and resumed his seat.

  “Billip, really, do you have a feeling that things are not normal? Lefty’s feet used to sweat when things weren’t right. Right now,” he patted his tummy,” I’m not even hungry. I’m always hungry!”

  Twirling the arrow in his fingers, Billip said, “Whatever it is, I’m sure it will go away. Now let’s go.”

  “What? Already?”

  “I’m not waiting on the brute a minute longer. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if he was frolicking with that heifer,” Billip said, slinging his bow over his shoulder and walking away.

  Georgio jumped to his feet and followed.

  “He said he was going to look into things. Maybe he ran into underlings.”

  “I don’t see or smell any. Now come on. He’s smart enough to know where we’ll be.”

  “The stable?”

  “Yes, but first, I want to check out the main gates.”

  “Why?”

  “Look around. All the people are gone.”

  “What about Velvet?” Georgio said, stopping to turn around and look. She’d made quite the impression on him, and he hated to leave her.

  “She isn’t going anywhere. You can look for her when we come back.”

  Billip led; Georgio followed. Ahead of him, the man strutted through the alleys and down the abandoned streets, elbows swinging and head on a swivel. Billip looked like he was trying to keep an eye on everything at once. Not nervous by doing so, but casual. Georgio found himself looking around, too, but he didn’t notice anything. Just ugly buildings that should be torn down. He missed his bed in the City of Three. It was soft and warm. He wondered how Kam was doing. I bet she’s glad I’m no longer around.

  “Quit gawking, Boy. We’re almost there.”

  When they rounded the next corner, Georgio was bewildered by the sight. Thousands of men, women and children now crowded the inner gate. They had pack mules, carts and wagons loaded, fighting and pressing as hard to get out as what he’d seen on the other side to get in.

  “I’ve never seen so many crammed together before. Not even for a hanging,” he said.

  “Look up there,” Billip said, pointing at the top of the wall.

  Georgio had never seen so many soldiers before. Where there were normally ten spaced out along the perimeter, there were at least a hundred, if not more.

  “There really must be underlings in this city,” he said, looking at Billip and all around. “What do we do now?”

  “If I had a business set up, I’d be making a mighty profit now!” Billip said, clenching his fists and teeth. “Now I’m missing out. Nothing like a crisis to fill a smart man’s pockets. Nothing, indeed. Wouldn’t surprise me one bit if the Royals were the cause of all this.” Billip eyed the spire of the nearest castle. “No. Wouldn’t surprise me one bit at all. Bloody thieves. Come on. Let’s lay low in the stable. We aren’t going anywhere this way.”

  “What about Mikkel?”

  “He’ll figure it out.”

  Georgio followed on heavy feet, trying to make sense of what was going on around him. Underlings had invaded his last two homes, and that unsettling feeling was only growing in his gut. Where are you, Venir?

  It wasn’t long before the scent of hay and fresh manure wafted into his nostrils, and some of that odd feeling drifted away. The old barn was quiet and dark. Billip slowed his pace, eyeballing his surroundings. Nothing seemed out of place to Georgio, but as he started to speak, Billip cut him off with his hand. The archer slipped an arrow from his quiver and notched it on the string. One thought raced through Georg
io’s mind. Underlings!

  Georgio had just slid his sword from the sheath when a stark realization hit him like a pan in the face. Every stall and gate was the perfect hiding place for an … Ambush. Had he not seen it used for the same purpose? The time had come for him to start thinking fast for a change. Should we retreat? What about Quickster? He had to make sure the shaggy pony was well. The hilt of his sword was slippery in his palm as they crept farther into the barn.

  Billip stopped and pulled his bowstring back as a stall gate creaked nearby. Something darted across the dirt: black, brown and grey. A cat! One moment there, the next it was gone.

  Billip looked back at him and gave him a wry smile.

  “I almost shot that thing. The poor light can be tricky if you’re not careful. I’d hate to waste an arrow.”

  Georgio swallowed hard and wiped the sweat from his brow. After a few dozen more steps, they stood at Quickster’s stall. Billip guarded the corridor, and Georgio swung open the stable gate. In the dimness, he could see the shaggy pony lying on its back, legs upward, knees bent downward, without a care in the world.

  Georgio entered, bent down, rubbed the pony’s shaggy black belly, and said, “Can I light a lantern?”

  “Go ahead; just don’t burn down the place. Wait a minute.”

  Georgio froze.

  “Someone’s coming.”

  He stepped out of the stall and looked down towards the end of the barn. A man carrying a bottle was swaggering their way.

  “Where’d he come from?” Georgio whispered.

  “I don’t know. He just slipped out of those shadows.”

  Georgio remembered the old stable hand who’d always been there over the years. The old man, a toothless dullard with flakes and lice in his hair, hadn’t been present when they arrived. It was odd. He usually saw the man most of the time. But this man was different. His gait was somewhat staggered, and his tall frame slightly hunched.

  “Looks like a drunkard or vagrant,” Billip said from the corner of his mouth. “I’ll handle it.”

  But Georgio couldn’t stop watching the silhouette that approached. The closer he came, the bigger he was, bigger than most men, almost as big as Mikkel. Venir? He took two steps forward, and that’s when he heard it. The sound of a ragged breath, like someone exhaling broken glass. His fingers started to ache, and the muscles in his body froze. It wasn’t Venir. It was Tonio.

  “You! Tonio pointed Georgio’s way, his voice garbled and broken when he spoke. “I know you. I knew someone would be back. I wait. I find. I kill.”

  “Sh-Sh-Sh …,” Georgio tried to say Shoot but couldn’t.

  Twang!

  Billip’s arrow plunged into Tonio’s armored shoulder. The split-faced man locked his hand down on the arrow, took a swig from his bottle, and yanked it out.

  The sound of the shaft pulling from the muscle and bone made Georgio’s innards flex.

  “Who is this man?” Billip said, pulling back the next arrow.

  “T-Tonio …,” Georgio said, sputtering.

  “Ah, I see. One more step, and I’ll add a third to your head,” Billip warned, pulling the string back along his cheek.

  Tonio dropped the arrow to the ground. Georgio’s eyes froze on the half-dead man. Tonio was tall, plated from the waist up in mismatched armor. Two swords hung on his hips; another was sheathed on his back. His jaw hung to the right side of his mouth. In the twilight darkness, his black eyes sparkled, demented.

  “Shoot him again,” Georgio managed.

  Tonio held up his hand. “Tell me where the Vee-Man is, and I might spare you.”

  Billip said, “Oh, so you are the Yellow Hair Butcher, are you not? There is quite a nice bounty on your head.”

  Tonio’s chin dipped down as he eyed Billip.

  “You’ll never collect it. Tell me where the Vee-Man is … NOW!”

  Tonio’s voice scattered the pigeons from the rafters.

  Billip let another shaft fly.

  Tonio snapped his forearms in front of his face.

  Chink.

  The arrow juttered on the metal bracer.

  “Impossible!” Billip nocked another arrow and fired.

  Chink.

  Tonio took another step forward. Georgio took a step backward, trying to blink the living nightmare away.

  “Tell me where the Vee-Man is!” Tonio growled, ripping a sword from the sheath on his back. “I remember those fingers, Boy. They might grow back, but your head won’t. Not after I eat it.”

  Twang! Twang!

  Billip pinned one foot to the ground, then the other.

  “Pah! You’ll be out of arrows soon, Little Man.”

  Tonio guzzled down what was left of his whine and tossed the bottle aside.

  “Shoot him again, Billip!” Georgio said, shuffling behind the man.

  Billip unloaded another feathered shaft at Tonio’s face. Tonio knocked it aside in one fluid motion with his sword, reached down, and pulled the other shafts from his feet. He drew his other sword. “When Vee-Man comes, I’ll be eating your bones.” He pointed one sword at Georgio. “But I’ll be saving yours for last.”

  “Run, Georgio!” Billip said, backing away as he reloaded.

  Twang!

  This arrow caught Tonio full in the chest, but he was already running. Tonio’s bigger body slammed into Billip, driving him hard to the ground. Billip had his fingers wrapped around one of Tonio’s wrists as the other sword hand came down. There was a sickening sound of metal meeting bone as Billip cried out and went limp. As Tonio rose his arm to deliver the next deadly blow, Georgio charged.

  “NOOOOO!”

  He whacked Tonio full in the chest with the edge of his blade, knocking the man backward. With one mighty swing after another, Georgio drove the monster man backwards. Tonio parried again, again and again, then let out a frightening laugh.

  “Tired are you, Young Man? Do not fear, you’ll not feel fatigue much longer.”

  Tonio swung.

  Georgio parried. The powerful blow stung his hands. Gasping for breath, Georgio took another swing.

  Clang!

  Tonio swatted it away like a child’s rattle.

  “Come, Boy, just lead me to the Vee-Man. His head is all I want. Vengeance I must have for what he did to me. See?” He ran his finger down the face of his nasty scar. “Vengeance so I can rest. Tell, and I shall go away.”

  Georgio’s arms quavered as he rose his sword up. He’d never been so tired before, not even during the challenge. There was quite a big difference between swinging a heavy sword and swinging a Dussack knife. Huffing and puffing, he said, “You won’t find him. You’ll never kill him. He’s gone.”

  Clang!

  Tonio knocked his sword from his hand, grabbed him by the throat, and lifted him from the ground. Georgio couldn’t get over the putrid smell of rot and alcohol as he gawped for air, his face turning red as a beet.

  “He must come back. I must kill the Vee-Man.”

  Tonio looked as cunning as he was deranged, horrifying Georgio, who kicked and struggled, but Tonio was too powerful. Unyielding. Unnatural. It was like that final moment with the Vicious before it cut his throat was happening all over again. I can’t let him eat my head. Fight or Die! He kicked at Tonio’s belly harder and harder, but the man was like a statue.

  “I wait for Vee-Man. But you die.”

  He could hear the leather in Tonio’s gauntlet squeak as the pressure began to build behind his eyes. I don’t want to die again.

  Clatch-Zip!

  Something rocketed past his ear, and he found himself on his hands and knees, coughing. He rolled to his back and looked up to see Tonio reeling, a large crossbow bolt lodged in his neck.

  Clatch-Zip!

  Another bolt ripped through the air, hitting Tonio in the leg, sending him spinning to the ground. A large man with a heavy studded club started pounding the man into submission. The club rose and fell. Wham! Wham! Wham! It was Mikkel.

  Georgio r
eached for his sword and rose back to his feet.

  “Who is this man, Georgio?” Mikkel cried out, bringing down his club with all he had.

  “It’s the Yellow Hair Butcher,” Billip said, blood dripping from his mouth. “And the bounty’s mine.”

  Mikkel hit Tonio again, harder than the last. Georgio could see the sweat glistening on the back of the man’s neck. Tonio was regaining his feet, a golem that would not be put down, swords still dangling in his hands.

  Whack!

  Billip hit him in the arm.

  Whack!

  In the knee.

  Whack!

  Upside the head, but Tonio kept on coming.

  “What in Bish is this man made of?” Mikkel said, laboring for breath.

  “Hit him again, Father,” an unknown voice cut through the darkness, or maybe that was the torch being carried by a young man, about Georgio’s size, who was also holding a heavy crossbow.

  Whack!

  “Good thinking, Nikkel.”

  Whack!

  “Enough!” Tonio groaned, swords flashing in the light.

  Slice! Slice! Slice!

  “Argh!” Mikkel roared, dropping his club. Tonio cut deep into his arm, leg and across his belly.

  Clatch-Zip!

  Tonio stopped. A bolt was planted square between his eyes. He teetered backward and fell to the ground.

  Mikkel was gasping for air, blood dripping from his wounds. “Great shot, Boy.”

  “That’s my bounty,” Billip managed. The archer was grimacing in the torch light. His arm dangled from his shoulder. “I’ll need money to stitch my arm back together. Pah!” He spat a mouthful of blood. “Well … what are you looking at? I’m about to die over here. Do something!” His eyes rolled up in his head as he slumped back to the ground.

  Georgio dashed into the stable and led Quickster out. Mikkel was carrying Billip in his arms. “What do we do?” Georgio asked, worried.

  “I’ve never seen him this bad before. We can head for the nearest castle,” Mikkel shook his head. “We’ll just have to ask the Royals for a favor.”

  “What about Tonio?” Georgio asked.

  When he looked back. Tonio was gone.

  CHAPTER 29