The Darkslayer: Series 2 Special Edition (Bish and Bone Bundle Books 6-10): Sword and Sorcery Adventures

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The Darkslayer: Series 2 Special Edition (Bish and Bone Bundle Books 6-10): Sword and Sorcery Adventures Page 13

by Craig Halloran


  Another knot of underling fighters emerged from the bushes and swarmed the woman and horse.

  She cleaved one in the skull. “Get up and fight, Brak!”

  Brak tore his hand out of the gooey webbing, grabbed another spider in his hand, and stuffed it in an oncoming underling’s face. “Eat, fiend!”

  From out of nowhere, Olg and Ugg waded into the fray. The fat pair of ogres grabbed an underling by his arms and legs and tore him asunder.

  Every underling still standing converged on the fearsome foursome.

  They fought hard and fierce. Brak and company overpowered the cunning fiendish fighters with size and brute strength.

  Olg suffocated an underling inside his meaty arms until its spine snapped like a twig.

  Jarla lanced one through the back with her sword, and Nightmare’s hooves turned an underling’s bones to dust.

  Brak stabbed an underling in the belly and flung its corpse aside into the grass. He didn’t see any more underlings. Laboring for breath, he said, “I think that’s the last of them.”

  But a spider dropped onto his head. They were still falling from the trees by the dozens.

  He brushed them off his body and yelled at Ugg, “Don’t squish them.”

  The ogre squished a spider in his hands, popping its flesh and binding the ogre’s hands together. He let out a confused grunt. His pudgy face became angry and filled with strain. He let out a bellowing cry.

  Wheeling her horse around, Jarla flicked off the spiders that crawled on her horse and said, “This is maddening!”

  Brak cocked his head to one side at the sound of an odd whistle. It was a woozy layer of sound, and it awakened butterflies in his stomach.

  The spiders crawled over the ground and back up into the trees.

  Slim appeared, still on horseback. Jubilee was with him. His lips were pursed together and making the odd whistle. Finally, he stopped.

  Brak said, “Why did you have spiders attack us?”

  “I didn’t,” Slim replied. “An underling mage controlled them, and this little woman over here, with a touch of assistance from me, stabbed him … several times.”

  “So that’s the last of the underlings?” Brak said.

  “In the general vicinity, I suppose.”

  “Where is the wizard, then?” Jarla asked.

  Brak didn’t see any sign of Fogle. “That’s a problem.”

  “Everyone stay put. I’ll search for him,” Jarla said. She led her horse back into the forest.

  The upper branches of a nearby tree exploded. An underling fell through the branches and crashed to the ground.

  “You missed one,” Fogle said. He was on foot and standing near a tree across from Brak. He dusted off his hands. “It’s a good thing I sniffed him out. A mage. I don’t sense any more, though.”

  Jarla came back and said, “Where’s your horse?”

  “They killed it.” The wizard looked up at her and smiled. “Can I ride with you?”

  “No one rides my Nightmare but me.”

  CHAPTER 35

  After Jarla’s rejection, Fogle made a convincing case to Jubilee as to why he should use her horse. She was reluctant, but finally she succumbed and agreed to ride with Brak. The girl was angry at both of the men, and she made her feelings clear.

  Fogle didn’t have time to worry about it now. Instead, he needed to focus on Jarla and where she was taking them. Daybreak had come after a long ride through the night. He spurred his horse forward and caught up to the brigand queen.

  Yawning, he asked, “Where are we going?”

  “As I said before, we’re heading toward the Red Clay Forest,” she explained. “But if you like, you can take your chances in the Mist. I promise I won’t miss you.”

  “Well, at least you made me a promise. Makes me feel better.” His eyes drifted toward the Mist. Miles away, a great wall of fog reached higher than his eyes could see. The longer he stared at the natural monstrosity, the more his stomach felt queasy. It was foreboding and haunting. The place appeared to be between life and death. He recalled Venir speaking about his trip inside there―a fall that lasted forever. “Perhaps we would be safer in the Mist if we held hands when we went in?”

  “Perhaps you would feel better if you didn’t have any hands at all?” she replied.

  “I don’t think you would want that.” He held up his hands and wiggled his fingers. “As I recall, you said they were delightful.”

  Sitting proud, chin high, she didn’t reply. She’d made it clear she didn’t want any attachments.

  Perhaps I get attached too quickly.

  He considered giving her some space but thought better of it. There had been a point in their adventure when Fogle was in charge―and now Jarla had retaken command. There was Slim to deal with too. He was agreeable but manipulative. The way the healer had controlled the bugs was strange too.

  Maybe I should summon something to keep an eye on everybody.

  ***

  “How are you feeling?” Brak said to Jubilee.

  She didn’t reply. She hadn’t said a word to him since they got on his horse. Usually, she’d ride with her hands on his waist and lean on his back, but she barely touched him.

  “I know something’s bothering you, Jubilee. You’re never so quiet. Your mouth flows like a stream even on a grim day.”

  She punched him in the ribs.

  “That’s better,” he said.

  “You make me sick,” she retorted.

  “Me? What did I do?”

  She clammed up again.

  Brak started to hum.

  After a few minutes, Jubilee said, “Stop it! Just stop it! I hate it when you hum. You sound like you’re choking.”

  “I don’t sound like I’m choking to me.” He leaned back into her. “What are you mad about?”

  Jubilee pushed back. “Quit doing that.”

  Brak leaned into her again. “What, doing this?”

  “Quit it, Brak.”

  “I’ll stop when you tell me why you’re being so prickly with me.” He leaned back into her again.

  “I’ll just walk,” she replied.

  “You can’t keep up. Your legs are too short.”

  She smacked him in the back of the head and said, “Ow!” Shaking her hand, she said, “Curse you, Brak. Curse you and Jarla!”

  “Jarla?” He tried to turn his head and look at her. “What about me and Jarla?”

  “You fornicated with that greasy snake.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Brak. I know you did.”

  “I don’t even know what forna, uh, what was that word again?”

  Jubilee hit him in the back, saying, “Quit playing stupid. No one’s that stupid. Not even you.”

  “I shared her tent for a few nights, but that was all.”

  “I hate you, Brak.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re a liar, and I hate liars. And Fogle!” She peeked around Brak and stared up at Jarla and Fogle. “Look at him. He’s happier than swine in mud. Dirty old Fogle the Fornicator.”

  “Well, what he does, he does, but I didn’t do what he did.” Brak sighed. “I’m too young for that sort of thing.”

  Jubilee’s tone softened. “Brak, do you promise nothing happened with you and her?”

  “I promise.”

  She hugged his waist and snuggled into his back. “I’m glad you’re still Brak, Brak.”

  “Me too, I suppose.”

  And that’s assuming fornication means what I think it means.

  ***

  “It’s breathtaking,” Fogle said. He barely found his voice to find the words. The southern edge of the Red Clay Forest was layered with beauty. The trees were not gigantic like the ones in the Great Forest of Bish, but of a smaller, more colorful variety. The bark was red, white, and brown. The bushes and trees had a variety of leaves ranging from golden in color to blue as a new moon. “I find it hard to believe anything danger
ous lives in there. Have you ever been inside?” he said to Jarla.

  She didn’t reply.

  Slim said, “They say if she doesn’t accept you, she will take you.”

  “Who is she?” Jubilee asked.

  “That’s just what they call the forest, a she,” Slim replied cheerfully. “I’ve been here several times. Not with ogres or Jarla, but good people die in there as often as the bad. It’s hard to say.”

  “I’m not waiting on an invitation.” Jarla and Nightmare trotted into the edge of the forest and vanished.

  Fogle went in after Jarla, saying, “There are worse-looking places to die than this. Let’s go. ”

  CHAPTER 36

  “You want a feast of steel, I’ll give you a feast of steel!” A man possessed, Venir split the skull of the first underling that crawled up on the ledge. Atop the pinnacle of rock, he ran back and forth, chopping away at the swarm of fiends invading his hill.

  Slice! Slice! Stab!

  Underlings tumbled down the rocky spire, missing limbs and gored. Their furry black bodies collided with the rest of their brood, who nevertheless kept climbing up the rocks like worker ants. Curved swords in hand, a pair of them slid up on the other side of the landing and rushed at Venir.

  With Helm’s eyes in the back of his head, the Darkslayer turned at the last second and gored the first one on the chest with Brool’s spike. He flicked it over the precipice like a wild ape flinging dung. “Spit on you, fiend!”

  The second underling stabbed at him.

  Venir kicked it in the backside, swatted the sword away with the cheek of his axe, and sent the fiend flying over the rim. Helm could sense them all, their hatred.

  They came at him like a pack of starving wolves. A ravenous look was in their gemstone eyes.

  Venir’s iron limbs got to work.

  Slice!

  An underling lost its head.

  Rip!

  Brool tore through the bones of an underling’s chest.

  Chop!

  Venir whacked an underling clear through the knee.

  The rocky spire became a bloody gore-coated ornament in the sky, and with his blood rushing through his veins like fire up a haystack, Venir tore the underlings apart like a tornado inside a barn. As soon as one underling crested the rock, Venir was there, splintering its skull. Shield on his back, he kicked, punched, hacked, and chopped. His fury was savage. Unrelenting.

  “That’s all you have, you black-coated fiends?”

  Helm throbbed a warning in his head.

  Ranged weapons tore through the air. Venir flattened out on a rock, crushing a struggling underling beneath him. Bolts, javelins, and spears clattered and splintered off the rocks.

  Dragging the underling by the hair, Venir climbed to the highest point of the spire and yelled at the underlings on the rim of the canyon, “You missed me, fiends!”

  The chittering fiends launched another flurry.

  Venir shielded himself with the underling. The spears buried deep into its body.

  Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

  Laughing, Venir hoisted the body over his head and flung it into the canyon. He beckoned the enemy his way. “Come and get me!”

  Volley after volley came, but Venir hunkered behind the shield and in the cover of the rocks.

  An emerald-eyed underling peeked up over the ledge.

  The Darkslayer spiked its eye out, sending it screaming into the gap.

  “Keep coming, furry rodents! Keep coming! Brool feasts on your eyes!”

  The underlings thickened below the rocky spire. They clawed over one another, chittering from their lips and gnashing their teeth, scrambling up the rock. A sea of them had Venir completely surrounded, more than fifty feet below.

  Helm’s eyelets smoldered with the black fires of a furnace, and Venir bellowed, “Come! Come! I’ll slaughter every last one of you!”

  Volleys whistled through the air. Underling warriors launched themselves at Venir one after the other.

  The towering titan was too quick and skilled. He butchered the underlings one after the other. He evaded the aerial attacks time after time. Black blood dripped down the rocks. Gore coated him from head to toe. Tireless as a river, Venir fought, minute after minute, turning past an hour, fueled by a power beyond mortal comprehension. He didn’t know if he was doing the work or if Helm was. He didn’t care. He liked it.

  A blood ranger horn blared from within the passage below. Not a single underling relented on the assault of Venir. The gigantic warrior caught a glimpse of the dwarves. They pressed through the gap, pushing the distracted underling forces back.

  The tide was turning on the black-hearted fiends. They had their shields at the front, but dwarves shoved through the distracted underling ranks from behind, spilling out of the passage and into the floor of the canyon by the hundreds.

  Lifting his war axe high, Venir let out a dwarven battle cry. “Huzzah!”

  The underling soldiers weren’t prepared for close combat with the heavily armored blood rangers. The stout hatchet-swinging fighters carved a path right into the heart of underlings.

  Venir kept at it. He was a tireless automaton, chopping and hacking away. Brool was covered in gore, and Helm was coated in a hundred layers of black blood.

  Underlings rushed up at him and died.

  Chop! Hack! Glitch!

  They kept climbing. They kept dying.

  Powering his axe through the waist of a sword-swinging underling and leaving it to fall into its guts, Venir howled.

  Helm unleashed a new warning.

  Venir’s arm hairs stood on end.

  Floating underling mages encircled Venir. The black robe-wearing fiends hovered above the rocks, far from his reach. Their sapphire eyes glowed with mystic fire. Sharp black-nailed fingertips crackled with energy.

  Venir grabbed his shield and hunkered down just as explosive bolts of power blasted from their fingertips. Green bolts lit up the sky.

  Sssssrazzz-Boom! Ssssrazz-Boom! Sssssrazzz-Boom! Ssssrazz-Boom!

  The jarring impact skipped Venir over the rocks onto the pinnacle’s edge. He tasted blood and metal in his mouth. His muscles juttered and twitched. Agony coursed through his bones. Fighting the blinding pain, he rose back to his feet and spat. “It will take more than that to kill me, underlings!”

  Evil eyes flashing, the underling magi cocked their arms back and loosed their powers against the Darkslayer again.

  Venir sprung behind some rocks and hid behind his shield.

  Two bolts slammed into it and popped his head back into the rocks with bone jarring force.

  Head ringing and filled with pain, he gored an underling soldier that had crawled into his blind spot. It stuck on Brool’s spike, and Venir moved the underling corpse in between him and the underling magi.

  The fiends launched their mystic fury. The power slammed into the dead underling skewered on Brool’s tip and tore it away.

  Sssssrazzz-Boom! Ssssrazz-Boom! Sssssrazzz-Boom! Ssssrazz-Boom!

  Venir was getting pounded against the rocks with hot glowing energy. The relentless attack singed his arms and tore at his skin. “Is that all you have?” he yelled.

  The blasts kept coming.

  Pounded by the supernatural, Venir couldn’t move. He couldn’t think. The metal of his smoking armor seared his skin. His grip on Brool slipped.

  CHAPTER 37

  Hit by one bolt of power after another, Venir started to rise to his feet. “Slat on you!” He hefted Brool by the handle, and with all of his power he launched Brool spike first at the underling mage in the middle. His aim was true. Brool speared the center underling clear through the chest.

  Glitch!

  Brool and the center underling plummeted downward and out of sight. The remaining underling magi’s harsh faces filled with shock and fury. And then they linked hands and their eyes grew confident again. The one on the end closest to him raised its hands, fingertips glowing.

  “Never again!” Venir roared.
He backed into the rocks, gathered his legs underneath him, and charged. Planting his foot on the ledge, he leaped into the gang of hovering underlings, slamming into the center two and holding on. “I have you now, fiends!”

  The screeching underlings tore at the Darkslayer as they spun in the air and plummeted toward the ground. They kicked and bit at him.

  He held on with anger, dragging them out of the sky. They were no match for Venir’s armament-enhanced might. He locked one up in the nook of his arm and held it fast. Wind whistling through Helm, he glanced down at the horde of unsuspecting underlings in the fight of their lives with the blood rangers and lesser dwarves.

  The underlings’ magic didn’t slow their fall fast enough. The three of them crashed into the ground hard.

  Crunch!

  With the furry black bodies crushed beneath him, the first thing Venir spied among the chaos was Brool. He surged through a wave of startled underlings, snatched up his axe, and turned into a whirlwind of fury. Black blood and body parts flew. A clamoring howl of terror and outrage followed. Venir mowed through the black throng on one side, and the dwarves carved out the other side.

  “Yes!” he cried. “They fall like black rain from the sky!”

  Venir spun in a full circle, turning Brool loose through armor, furry skin, and bone in fatal collisions. The death count piled up around him in a mound of bodies. He stood on the bones of the dead and those that hissed in agony, killing one underling after the other.

  “I’ll have you all!” bellowed the Darkslayer.

  Brool cleaved skull after skull. Smashed through metal and busted through bones. Venir head butted an underling, shattering its nose. He was too big and fast for the brood. The dwarves were closing in and cutting through their back side.

  Muscles pumping axe chop after axe chop, Venir downed his foes with delight. An hour later he was surrounded by nothing but furry black bodies. There was no one left to swing at. He stuck Brool tip first into the death pile, looked at the surrounding body of hard-fighting dwarves, and said, “Huzzah!”

  They replied in kind, “Huzzah!”

 

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