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 15

by Craig Halloran


  “You’ll always be fighting so long as you’re on Bish. No fault in wanting to wipe out that scourge down there, though.” Mood took back the cigar. “Question is the same as always. How do we wipe them off the map once and for all?”

  “We just need to kill them faster than they can breed.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Snuggled in behind Jasper, Melegal twirled his finger in her hair. “Your locks are thickening like the feathers of a raven.” He gave her shoulder a little bite. “I like it.”

  “Don’t remind me.” She yawned. “All it does is catch more dust. As if my body wasn’t coated in enough of it.” She squirmed out of the bedroll. Her head hit the top of the small tent they were crammed in. Warm dew dropped into her eye. “Ew! It’s sweltering in here. It’s beyond sweltering.”

  Stretching out his long, slender limbs as best he could, Melegal said, “We needed privacy. One has to sacrifice comfort when one is in the company of a dwarven army.”

  “You mean you wanted privacy,” Jasper fired back.

  “Well, I didn’t think you’d want to have our affection out on public display. You might find it awkward, although it’s fine with me.”

  She kicked at him. “You rotten little pervert. That’s not what I meant. This is easy for you, the one who does not sweat.”

  “It is one of my many gifts, I suppose.” He traced her naked back with his fingers then wriggled them. “Ew. That really is gross.”

  “Shut your mouth hole.” She grinned a little and lay down by his side. “You didn’t seem to notice earlier.”

  Eyeing Jasper’s nubile figure, he said, “That’s because my thoughts were elsewhere.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Your thoughts are always elsewhere.”

  “True. True enough.”

  “Honestly, who copulates at a time and in a place like this? It’s miserable. Only men can find the most inconvenient times and uncomfortable places to express their urges.”

  “You didn’t resist. As I recall, you said, let’s go—”

  “I know what I said. Oh, never mind. I’m getting some fresh air. At least the moons offer light that won’t set your head on fire.” She started to crawl away.

  Melegal caught her by the ankle and drew her in. “Wait a moment.”

  “No, I know what you’re trying to do. I need some space.”

  He kissed her.

  She resisted. “You have horrible timing.”

  Melegal’s fingers found their way around her waist and massaged the small of her back. As Melegal continued the long kiss, Jasper’s body began to yield. Her supple limbs merged with his. He pulled her back on top of him. Gently, he caressed her arms with the backs of his fingernails. In her ear, he said, “One more time.”

  She shivered. Goose bumps rose on her arms. “You know I can’t resist that.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Melegal eased out of the pup tent. The first rising sun glared in his eyes. He placed his cap on his head and shielded his eyes. His vision adjusted. A mill of dwarven activity surrounded the small tent. The durable men ripped tent stakes out of the ground with their bare hands. They neatly folded the canvas and packed it into bags.

  The yawn of a big dog caught Melegal’s ear. Chongo lay between his tent and another that hadn’t been there the day before.

  “Have you been there all night?”

  Chongo shook his ears.

  Melegal petted both of the dog’s heads just above the bridges of his noses. “I’m not used to it being you and no Venir.”

  While Venir scouted ahead with the others, he left the big dog behind. The warrior was very protective when it came to Kam and Erin.

  Jasper popped her head out of the tent. “What’s going on?”

  “It looks like we’re moving out.”

  “Where?”

  “Does it matter?”

  She shrugged her narrow shoulders and slipped out. Her dark sorceress garments had been enhanced with some dwarven leather that now covered most of her arms and legs. She had a dagger tucked inside her belt.

  With a lift of his brows, he said, “You’re looking mighty dangerous for a little thing.”

  “Don’t be getting any ideas.” She rubbed her back. “I’m sore enough. I need to stretch.”

  “Heh-heh,” he said.

  “Don’t flatter yourself. Sleeping in there is like being crammed in a foxhole.”

  A knot of dwarves walked past, chuckling. Melegal could see some playfulness in their grim faces. Twisting from side to side, he said, “If you say so, but I never get stiff.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “We all know what you mean.” Kam emerged from the tent next to theirs with Erin by her side, clinging to her knee. Kam’s wavy locks of red hair hung over her shoulder in a ponytail. “The entire camp knows what you mean. Everything was quiet in the camp last night aside from the two of you.”

  “Sounds like Venir didn’t make it home last night.” Jasper nudged Melegal with her elbow and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be back.”

  Kam made her way over and stood eye to eye with Melegal. “The pair of you seem to be getting awfully cozy.”

  “War makes her an excellent bedmate.” He dropped to his knee. “Hi, Erin.”

  The toddler’s little hands pinched at his cheeks. Erin giggled. “Crow. Crow.”

  “What does that mean?” he said.

  Kam shrugged. “I don’t know. She picks things up from the dwarves. Who knows—before long, she might be speaking Dwarven.” She scanned the bustling activity. “So you haven’t seen Venir?”

  He caught a glimpse of Chongo. “I guess he’s not here—yet. I’ll go take a look around.”

  “I’ll go too.”

  They hadn’t made it ten steps before a pair of black-bearded dwarves in scale-mail vests started breaking down their tents.

  “At least they’re including us.” Melegal adjusted the dart launchers on his wrist. One of the darts snagged on his sleeve. “That’s better.”

  Side by side, he and Kam walked with Erin between them. Kam’s head turned this way and that as if it were on a swivel. The three of them had to stop often. The dwarves, a hive of activity, moved at a brisk pace, saying in Dwarven, “Coming through.” The stout men didn’t slow, either.

  “I feel like a round peg in a square hole,” Melegal said.

  “Huh? Oh.” Kam’s eyes lit up. She grabbed Melegal by the shirt. “There’s Billip. Come on.”

  Billip and Nikkel were sitting on the back of a wagon. Each held his head in his hands. Nikkel moaned. “Oh, it hurts. It hurts when I move my eyes. Make the pounding stop.”

  “Stop talking,” Billip said, teetering in his seat. “You’re making it worse.”

  Both men reeked of dwarven mead.

  “What did you two fools get into last night?” Kam picked up Erin and put her on her hip. “And where is Venir? Is he another drunken sot?”

  “Please,” Nikkel said weakly, “stop yelling.”

  “I’m not yelling!”

  Covering his ears, Nikkel curled up in a fetal position in the back of the wagon.

  Kam opened up her mouth to speak. Billip cut her off with a flimsy wave of his hand. “I’ll explain. To your first question—we got into a drinking contest with the dwarves, and I’m pretty sure we lost. To the second—I have no idea where Venir is. He and Mood were spying on the underling army.”

  “What underling army?” Kam said with intent.

  “Oops. I’m kinda vague as to whether or not I should have mentioned that.”

  Something stuck itself in Melegal’s craw. Stepping forward, he said, “Are we running?”

  “We should be.”

  He found Kam’s emerald eyes searching his. What in Bish would cause a dwarven army to turn tail? “Are there more of them than the dwarves?”

  “An army at least five times the size of ours.”

  “Are we going to engage?”

 
“No, I suppose that’s why we’re moving.”

  “Has Venir engaged?” Kam asked.

  Billip huffed. “Not yet.”

  “The lout probably has them chasing after us.” Melegal frowned. “Perhaps we should get going. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if they started popping out of the ground at any moment.”

  CHAPTER 5

  “Isn’t this a delightful situation?” Jarla’s hands were bound up over her head by vines that burst from the cavern’s wall. The cavern was lit by smashed juices of the giant light bugs’ sacks that were stuck on the walls.

  Every one of them was bound up in a similar fashion. The ogres were back to back, completely wound up like a ball of twine. The same went for Jubilee, Brak, Slim, and Fogle.

  Agitated, Fogle said, “You’re as much to blame as anyone. You’re the one that wanted to come in the forest. I wanted to try the Mist.”

  “My, how your flirtations have changed, wizard,” Jarla said. “I think the next time it happens, I might just kill you in your sleep.”

  Wrestling with his bonds, Fogle said, “Given the circumstances, I look forward to it.”

  Things had gone quickly awry after they were surrounded. The forest came to life, entangling everyone—man, ogre, and horse. The foliage covered them in a suffocating fashion. Fogle remembered blacking out and awakening in the heart of a deep, dank cave. That had been at least a day earlier.

  The ogres’ bellies groaned. It sounded like a bear yawning after months of a hibernating slumber. The monstrous pair whimpered, casting heavy looks at Slim. The group had been fed next to nothing and only given water by some of the forest magi who wandered in from time to time.

  Fogle had drawn that conclusion based on tidbits he’d heard from Georgio and Venir. The ragged magi—men, judging from all appearances—couldn’t be anything else. They must be those forest magi I’ve heard about. But how do they float? Fogle did find himself somewhat envious of the magi because they floated, much like the underlings, most of the time. They didn’t seem to carry much power, but he wondered how they moved like that. Even if he were to cast a floating spell, he didn’t have the power to stay that way all of the time.

  The mud-coated Brak shook in his bonds. The giant of a man’s head was down. He grumbled.

  Swallowing, a weak-eyed Jubilee said, “If he goes berserk, he’s going to eat us.”

  “I was hoping he’d eat our captors,” Fogle said. “Slim, can’t you come up with anything? Summon some bugs to eat these bonds?”

  In his typical cheery voice, Slim said, “I tried.” He wriggled his spidery fingers. “Whatever I’ve done has not taken. It’s either because of the forest or them, but I’m muted. I can feel it. What about you? Don’t you have anything left in the belly?”

  “Nothing I can direct. I need my hands with what little I have.” Fogle bumped his head against the cave wall. “My lips and hands are one when it comes to my craft. Most of the time.”

  “Your lips and hands were never that useful to begin with,” Jarla remarked.

  “You’re a well of positive energy. No surprise, coming from the queen of cold. Oh, and thanks for getting us into this mess.”

  “You never would have made it this far without me,” Fogle said.

  Brak let out a moan. Everyone froze, even the ogres. With widening eyes, the partially bound-up ogres managed to inch away from Brak.

  Four of the forest magi appeared. Two of them hooked their arms underneath Fogle’ s armpits and lifted him up off the ground. He tried turning his nose away from the smell, but to no effect. “You smell of rotting vegetables. You might want to feed us. If the blond one gets too hungry, things are going to get ugly.”

  The vines loosened from the wall but still entangled Fogle’s wrists. Another vine coiled around his mouth. “Ulp!” The magi hauled him out of the cave.

  Jarla and Jubilee shouted after him. Their echoing words had no effect. Their voices faded as he was brought into the light.

  The other two magi picked him up by his feet. Together, working as a single unit, the four magi hovered over the forest floor. Robes dusting the red clay, they whisked Fogle into a grove where a clear waterfall fell between the flowers. They set him on his knees in front of the falls. There was a large, flat rock covered in blue-green moss between him and the waters. His spell book lay closed on it.

  A mage floated over and lowered himself in front of Fogle, planting his feet firmly on the ground. The mage leaned over, tapping a grubby finger on the book.

  Looking around at the surrounding flock of magi, one as dirty at the next, Fogle shrugged. One of the ones behind him swatted him in the back of his head. He leered back at the person—who could have been male or female—thinking, What do you expected me to do? I’m gagged.

  He focused on the one in front of him. That mage had a sturdier frame than the others. His hands had some meat on them.

  Toughened fingers began tapping the book again. Fogle did his best to speak. It came out in a bunch of angry muffles. Behind him, a mage drew back his arm. Fogle flinched.

  “No.” The mage in front of him spoke in a very neutral tone.

  Fogle still wasn’t sure if it was the voice of a man or a woman.

  Another mage came closer with a staff of gnarled wood the full length of a man’s arm. With a nod from the leader, the mage poked Fogle in the chest. The air crackled.

  Zap!

  Fogle let out a painful moan. His body contorted. All of the hairs on his body turned into tiny lances. He flopped over on the ground.

  The surrounding forest magi let out eerie chuckles.

  The leader spoke again. “Behave yourself. No tricks. With tricks comes peril.”

  Eyeing the mage holding the staff of wood, the wizard gave a feeble nod.

  They set Fogle up on his knees. One of them removed the rag from his mouth. The knot of wood at the top of the staff loomed dangerously close to his temple. Quivering, Fogle whispered, “No tricks. I promise.”

  “One can never trust the word of a wizard,” the leader said.

  “I have no other guarantee that I can offer. I, like yourself, am a user of magic. I don’t know that my word as a man is that much better.”

  The leader sat on the rock and picked up the spell book, which was collapsed down to travel size. “What is your name? Where do you come from?”

  “I’m Fogle Boon. I hail from the City of Three.” He cleared his throat. “And may I have the pleasure of knowing who you are?”

  “I am Rane.” He lowered his hood. The man had long hair twisted up with small vines. His face was painted with arcane white and black symbols centered on his eyes. His features were strong. Familiar.

  “Nice to make your acquaintance.”

  Rane opened the book. He began leafing through the pages. “The lettering is small, as is the book, but there are so many pages within. You will teach me.”

  Shifting on his knees, Fogle said, “Given the nature of our surroundings, I fear that won’t be possible, else I’d be happy to oblige.”

  With a quick nod from Rane, the staff-wielding magi zapped Fogle in the chest. Shards of pain coursed through the wizard’s body. He teetered. His teeth chattered, but he did not fall.

  Still flipping through the pages, Rane said, “You will teach me, or you will die.”

  CHAPTER 6

  With his war axe, Brool, hanging across the great expanse of muscle between his shoulders, Venir marched along with the army of dwarves. They headed northeast, distancing themselves from the growing underling army that merged in the southwest. Kam and Erin rode on Chongo’s back. Melegal and Jasper rode on Quickster nearby.

  Swaying in the saddle to the rhythm of Chongo’s gait, Kam said to Venir, “I know that solemn look. You’re trying to figure out how to wipe out that army all by yourself.”

  “Maybe.”

  “You know, Venir, the underlings aren’t your fault. They aren’t even your responsibility.”

  He gave Kam a look. Sh
e was refreshed. No so long ago, her beautiful face had been haggard and filled with exhaustion, but the strength had returned to her eyes. He thumbed toward his axe. “I was given the metal. What other purpose is there?”

  Kam eyed the crude weapon. “Venir, I’ve come to terms with what you are and what you do. I’m not complaining anymore. I support you as much as I fear I might lose you. But you carry too much of a burden. If anyone is to blame for the mess in the world, it’s the royals. They could have prevented this.”

  “I don’t think anything could have prevented this. It all had to come to a head at some point. Besides, you haven’t forgotten the likes of Scorch, have you?”

  “No.” Kam paled. “Some things are beyond our understanding, I guess.”

  Venir put his hand on her thigh. She laid her hand on his. Chongo snorted.

  “Did you ever think about giving Chongo two names instead of one?” Kam lowered Erin into the front of the saddle. The toddler hung on tight to the saddle horn. “Each of his heads is different than the other.”

  “He’s always been Chongo. He didn’t always have two heads, and he wasn’t always so big. He was just a dog. A dwarven setter.”

  “What happened to him?”

  Using his free hand as a measuring stick, Venir said, “One day he was this big, and the next day he was what you see now.” He shrugged. “And he had two heads. They both answer to Chongo.”

  Kam brushed the hair from her eyes. “There has to be more to it than that.” She turned in the saddle. “Melegal, what’s the story?”

  “You’re asking me? I’d be glad to tell you, but I don’t keep track of all of his overblown adventures in the wild. I’m city bred. One day the dog is small, and the next day, he’s big.” He petted Quickster’s mane. “Now, this is a truly magnificent beast. A marvel. No trouble or mystery at all. I’d be more than happy to share with you how I came about him. Where’s Billip, anyway? He loves hearing this tale.”

 

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