The warrior produced a knife and slid it over on the table. It had two sets of blades and forked edges around the pommel.
Mikkel knew underling steel when he saw it. He tossed a dish rag over all of it. Immediately his thoughts went to his son Nikkel, hoping that Two-Ten City hadn’t been over run and his boy slaughtered.
Billip pressed on with more questions.
“So I merit that you killed all of the underlings before you managed your return?”
“Why are you mocking me? Of course I didn’t kill them all. I gathered a horse and escaped. Those bolts were in my armor—see—here are the holes.” The warrior stuck his fingers in the pierced leather shoulder. “Then, I grabbed that blade from a dead one's grip when I lost my own knife.” The warrior rapped his fist on the table and got up. “Pah … you two dimwits wouldn’t know an underling if you saw one, but I’ve warned you.” He grabbed the underling weapons and tucked them away. As the warrior reached for the bread, Billip pinned down his wrist.
“You’ve had your fill here. Now, we’ve been good enough hosts, so if you want to spread more of your stories, do it elsewhere, Scavenger.”
“What? I’m no bloody scavenger. I ought to cut your throat,” he said as his hand fell to the pommel of his sword.
Billip rolled his eyes, but Mikkel got up and looked down on the warrior.
“Time to go,” he said, taking another step towards the man, “quietly.”
“So be it,” the warrior said, turning and marching through the door.
Returning to his seat, Mikkel rubbed the back of his head and watched the man go.
“Billip, this isn’t good, not good at all.”
The archer sat with a glum look on his face, cracking his knuckles.
“Our time has come, Mikkel,” Billip said.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. We need to head back home to Two-Ten City and check on Nikkel.”
Mikkel slumped over his big forearms on the table. "Ah … I’m sure he’s fine.”
He didn’t believe that, though. He was worried, and every day got longer and longer as the swirl of rumors of the underlings in the South added more fuel to his concerns. “Besides, we gave Venir our word to keep check on these boys and such. And Kam … she needs our help.”
Billip said, “Mikkel, it’s time to assume that Venir’s gone.”
Mikkel frowned. It was too sad to even consider, but it tugged at him anyway.
“Besides, the boys are in good shape here with Kam and Gillem. You’ve got your own to look after. You know Venir would understand, and you know we can’t sit around on our butts when underlings are starting to crawl all over.” Billip pushed away his mug. “We’re fighters, you and I, and we aren’t meant to sit around and watch babies grow. Tell Kam about your boy, and we can both go.”
Mikkel sighed. Billip was right. There wasn’t a whole lot left that he could do here, and he couldn’t sit around and feel guilty all the time. He needed to get his son and bring him back to the City of Three, if need be.
“It’s going to be a long ride, Brother,” he said, taking a drink. “And the bountiful women will be pretty scarce on the trail.” He allowed himself a broad smile.
“Agreed,” Billip hoisted his mug of ale, “and there won’t be much strong drink to take with us, either, so I suggest we round up a cask and head to the nearest brothel.”
He clonked his mug on Billip's.
“Ssshh,” he grinned, “Don’t be so loud. You don’t want Kam and Joline to hear. All of these women have big ears,” Mikkel said, looking over his shoulder.
Billip hoisted his brows and added.
“And bigger breasts to boot.”
***
From a balcony above, Kam heard every word. A tear ran down her cheek. She wiped it from her rosy cheek and blew her nose in a handkerchief. Her simple suggestion spell was powerful, a bit risky, but it had worked. She'd managed to have Billip do all the dirty work, and he hadn't even known it.
Before he'd left her room, she had already planted the question to ask Mikkel in his mind. That part had been easy, very unobtrusive. The next part had been a little more difficult, opening Mikkel’s stubborn mind to the suggestion. His mug of ale, mixed with a part of hers and a part of his, entwined with magic, had done the rest with a little mental prodding.
The whole process left her exhausted, sad and even worse … lonely. Her fingernails dug into the rail, and her heart began to race as she looked down on the two impressive men. A brothel. I could show them a better time than that. She almost felt possessed as she pulled back her shoulders and headed down the stairs. She needed companionship as much as they, and if she went another day longer she might explode. Why not. It’s the least I could do.
As she made her way to the bottom floor, a loud commotion began to stir among the patrons. Shouts and screaming were coming from outside as she watched Billip and Mikkel bolt from the table and head out the tavern’s door. Without even realizing it she was running, squeezing through the patrons as she pushed her way outside.
People were running and screaming from all directions like they were being chased by a swarm of bees. Amid the throng of panic stricken faces she searched for Mikkel and Billip, and that’s when she saw them, up the road, facing a small force of unlikely assailants. Her blood ran cold as she cried out their names, but her voice failed to rise above the sounds of chaos.
“NO!” She shouted when a group of patrons began pulling her back inside the tavern.
She saw Billip and Mikkel and a few others one last time, squaring off against the dark skinned and black clad brood of underlings.
CHAPTER 20
Verbard felt like his stomach was in his chest as he rubbed his aching head and his silvery eyes. Across from him sat Master Sinway, broad and serene in his chair, and beside him stood a Vicious, its long clawed hands clutching open and closed beside his throat. Apparently, Master Sinway wasn’t taking any chances on their little journey. Master Sinway was exposed, or was he?
As Verbard collected his thoughts, Master Sinway stood up and smoothed over his robes. He didn’t ever recall seeing his Master act this way in all of his years, relaxed and poised. Master Sinway’s fearsome disposition was gone, but the edge of his iron will was still there. He made a quick chit sound. The Vicious returned back to his master's side, and the cave dogs sat up and padded his way as well.
“Take it all in, Verbard. The charge I have given you is a big one indeed, but all the forces you need are at your disposal. Your time for greater glory has come. You can help us take back the surface world,” Sinway said, almost smiling.
He groaned inside. His stomach was still a knot of writhing worms as he fought back the bile building in his throat. He forced himself upright in his chair and tried to assess how much power Master Sinway had. The trip, as marvelous as it was, had left him dumbfounded at Sinway’s power. He and his brother combined couldn’t possibly have achieved such a feat. He wanted that power.
“Perhaps, Master, I can finish this port? It should help me conjure a plan.”
“Have all you want; it induces creativity.”
“And you?”
Sinway waved his hand and said, “I haven’t the craving. So … Verbard, I’ll offer you my wisdom at the moment if you wish. You have questions … ask, or else I’ll go.”
Verbard took a swallow and felt his tongue begin to melt in delight. The underling port was unlike anything he could have ever imagined. I could sit and drink this all year, but instead, I have to evict an entire city of humans.
“I would ask how you would have me go about it, Master. And please forgive me, my knowledge of human settlements is somewhat vague.” He hated to admit that, but placing a siege on a human empire wasn’t something he would consider to be his forte. His silver eyes went from Sinway’s chest to his back, as the Master of Underlings paced the floor like a man, robed arms crossed behind him.
“So long ago it was, Verbard,
like a dream, when I lived within the city. The stone walls were not there, nor the spires and towers, nothing but the ground and the waters below, an oasis in the Outlands. Underling Lord Master Sidebor was the Master then, my mentor …”
Verbard let out a short cough at the mention of Master Sidebor’s name, the one considered to be the greatest of all underlings. Master Sidebor had vanished at some point in time, no one really knew when for sure, as the new Underling Master kept his matters very private and exclusive. The only remaining trace of Sidebor—so the underling sages said—was the robe that Master Sinway wore. It seemed strange that Sinway chose this moment in time to bring it up at all.
“… who led us below ground. Mankind has driven us from our home, our caves, our water, our structures. They—with the help of wizards, giants and dwarves—drove us from that land. They sealed off the waters and choked the ground, which was once fertile, but is now what they call the Outlands: barren, wasted and dreadful.”
It seemed unlikely to Verbard that any of this was true. The lands of Bish always had been and always would be what they currently were. The underlings lived in caves and not dwellings above the ground, as they found the heat and bright light uncomfortable.
“So you ask how I would take the city? By siege? By deceit? Magic? Alchemy? Mayhem?” Sinway goaded.
With his stomach settled, Verbard rose from his chair. “I like the sound of them all. Chronic attrition?”
Sinway gave a little snort.
“Yes, you have observed what we are doing on the outside, Verbard, but we need to begin the pressure on the inside as well.”
The pressure in between Verbard's eyes was rebuilding. Please don’t tell me you want me to go inside there.
“Verbard, I want you …”
He felt his black heart stop for an instant as be began missing his quest for The Darkslayer.
“… to work with my son, Kierway, on this.”
I’d rather play in cave dog dung.
“It would be an honor.”
“I thought so,” Sinway sniffed. “Kierway has intimate knowledge of the City of Bone, as did Oran the outcast. You see, despite our hatred for humans and the human hatred for us, we have many allies out there.”
“Certainly, Master, hence the demise of Outpost Thirty-One.”
“Yes,” Sinway began to smirk, “and being such, we know that men can be manipulated just as easily from the inside as the out. There is a key, a magic relic, something Master Sidebor left behind in his failures when he forced us to abandon our city.” Sinway’s face formed a deep frown. “I believe it was done purposely. That key possesses many secrets to the city and all of its long buried wonders. Kierway has worked dutifully for generations in trying to re-aquire it.”
He began to simmer inside. How many things were going on that he didn’t know about? He was one of the most powerful underlings in the Underland, but it seemed he was naive when it came to his kin’s plans in regards to the domination of mankind. He couldn’t help but wonder how much his brother had known that he didn’t. There had always been something between Catten and Sinway that he never understood, until now.
Sinway continued.
“And I’d have you rendezvous with Kierway and help him acquire it, but if you feel there is a better way, then before you move on, I would like to hear it.”
Patience. It was the underling way, but the tone in Master Sinway’s voice was beginning to shift, reverting to his normal demeaning and demanding self. Verbard was beginning to suspect that it wouldn’t be up to him after all on how to take the City of Bone, that once again, he’d be another instrument of his master. He hated that.
“Shall I meet with Kierway first, or shall I begin this conquest on my own … Master?”
Master Sinway removed something from within his robes that Verbard had never seen before: a brass amulet, intricate in its works, with a clear crystal as big a the palm of his hand in the middle. Sinway said, “Take this. You can use it daily, if need be, and keep me apprised of your situation. Keep your reports short and accurate, that’s all I require,” Sinway finished, setting it on the table. “Now, your time to depart from me is here, and your time for greater glory has come. Follow.”
They floated through the castle cave of rock and stone back outside to a ledge overlooking the Underland city. Ranks of underlings stood in formation on a stone plateau below. Soldiers stood, solemn and striking with polished steel spear tips pointed skyward. Some were adorned in armor, others cloaks, crossbows and steels. Albino urchlings were mixed in there with cave dogs, giant spiders and lesser magi conjurers. Badoon underlings headed the ranks, well over a hundred strong, some bald and barren, the others covered in leather, mail and chain. In all, the host looked to be over five hundred underlings strong. It was an army that would bring a new meaning of terror to the world above.
Is this all I get to take over the largest city in the world?
“Your army awaits your orders, Lord Commander Verbard,” Master Sinway said in his ear. “See to it that they do not perish, and do not return until the City of Bone is ours once again.” Master Sinway departed, leaving him alone on the ledge, staring at his new army. I’m a fool. He’d just been handed an army to destroy humans and wipe them from the world, but it didn’t seem right. If Verbard ever missed his brother, Catten, he missed him now, as he floated down to greet his commanders. How did I get myself into this? I don’t even have the Vicious. I’m going to have to find an easier way. But he knew in his black heart there wasn’t one.
CHAPTER 21
Lefty and Gillem stood beneath the City of Three's spires. Long and ornate, the clay shingled towers twisted upward towards the sky. Lefty marveled, as always. Gillem was at his side, guiding him through the streets, a satchel of flowers strapped to his back. Again Lefty peered upward, gaping at the smooth surface and long length of the tower, which was part of a different type of castle system than that which held the Royals, much more elaborate and sophisticated than the rough cut rock of Bone. I’ve got to get in there.
“Come, Lad,” Gillem said, “stare too long and the magi will come after you.”
Lefty followed along Gillem’s side, still looking back and up over his shoulder.
“Do you really think they know we are watching?” He asked. “I mean, I’ve never seen anyone come and go from one of them. How do you know they are even in there?”
Gillem bumped into a woman carrying a package wrapped in decorative ribbon. She snorted.
“Watch it, Halfling,” she said, sneering down at him.
He produced a purple carnation with a long blue stem and bowed saying, “Apologies, Miss.”
“Oh … well, there’s no need,” she remarked, reluctantly taking the flower from his hand.
Lefty sauntered along Gillem's side, smiling.
“And some baby’s breath to go with that, young lady.”
“I, uh, very well. Thank you, little halflings, but be more careful. I wouldn’t want anyone to call the City Watch, which I was about to do.”
Lefty sneezed as she grabbed the flowers.
“Goodness!” she said.
“Pardon me, Miss … uh, you were saying?”
She took the baby’s breath, combined it with the carnation, and said, “Oh, be careful of the Watch. People don’t like how halflings always pester us, but in your case, you’ve been nothing but pleasant.”
Gillem added, “And you are as forgiving as you are lovely, and me and my boy, we promise to be more careful.”
Both Lefty and Gillem bowed as the woman smiled before she turned and walked away with a spring in her step.
Lefty felt Gillem Longfingers massaging the top of his head.
“So, Lefty, what is it I’ve acquired?”
“I must admit, you were quick, but not quick enough. All you got was a silver talent from her pocket.”
Gillem led the way, flipping the coin and saying, “Is that all you saw?”
He and Gillem Longfingers
had been hard at it the past few days, roaming the streets, selling cheap flowers and gifts while picking pockets and running small skims. Lefty liked what he learned, but he was becoming bored with it all and lonely, too. Georgio would hardly speak to him, and Kam didn’t seem to like him anymore. He missed learning magic from her, but with the new baby, Erin, she was too busy. Of course, Gillem saw to it he was busy, too. He just wanted things to go back to the way they were, before he and Georgio met Gillem and Palos.
“Yes,” he said, “Is that all you saw?”
Gillem stopped and looked down on him and asked, “What do you mean?”
Lefty dangled a small golden bracelet in front of Gillem’s puffy eyes that grew like saucers.
Gillem snatched it from his hand and stuffed it inside his coat in one fluid motion.
“Too many eyes, Boy … but impressive all the same.” Gillem shook his head. “My, you are picking up on this stealing too quick. Ho! The sneeze, that’s brilliant, never thought to use that. Come on now, we’ve got enough booty to report back to the Nest. Prince Palos will be expecting us.”
Lefty tried not to slump as he followed Gillem through the busy midday streets, still trading and selling flowers and carrying on. He hated Palos. The man was pushy, demanding, demeaning and cruel. Palos talked to Gillem like a dog and treated Lefty like an infant. The Nest however, was a little more to his liking, as it reminded him of Bone, but with dwarves and even a few halflings. He thought of Melegal often and wondered how he was doing. He wondered what Melegal would do if he had to deal with the likes of Palos and Gillem.
By the time they made it back to Gillem’s flower shop Lefty was droopy-eyed. They gathered their hoard of about six pounds of coins and trinkets of gold, silver and tiny gem stones and slipped through the streets, down the alley and into another underground dock where the gondola waited. He rubbed his eyes as he lit the tiny lantern.
“You’ve not spoke much today Lefty,” Gillem said as Lefty rowed. His shoulders were already aching, but not so much as his heart. Things just weren’t right.
The Darkslayer: Book 04 - Danger and the Druid Page 12
