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

Home > Other > The Darkslayer: Series 2 Special Edition (Bish and Bone Bundle Books 6-10): Sword and Sorcery Adventures > Page 46
The Darkslayer: Series 2 Special Edition (Bish and Bone Bundle Books 6-10): Sword and Sorcery Adventures Page 46

by Craig Halloran


  “Show me what you have, exotic one,” Pernsky said. “Please, I must see.”

  Even with a sinking heart, Jarla marveled at the terrifying weapon in her hand. The dark blades shone on the edges. The spike was stark and menacing. She ran her fingers over the cutouts in the blade’s metal. It was light to handle, but there was heft. She fished inside the sack some more but found nothing else. “The day I lost this to him is the day I died.”

  “What is that you say?”

  Jarla faced the ugly man, holding the axe in her hands.

  “Gah! Where did you get that weapon? You cannot possess that weapon! Give it to me!”

  “It’s not a weapon.” She approached the cell door. “It’s a key.” She jammed the spike in the keyhole and twisted. The metal tumblers in the mechanism shattered. She shoved the door open.

  Pernsky cowered. “Don’t kill me! I worship you, great lady! Please, don’t harm me. I’ll do anything. I’ll take you to your friend.”

  “Tell me, Pernsky, how many times have your forced yourself on women?”

  Waving his hands in front of his face, he said, “Never not once, never not once. I’m too ugly. Too ashamed. I used to be handsome before the witch Manamus got me. I’m sorry I teased you, just warrior.”

  “You’re lying, aren’t you, Pernsky?”

  “No, no lies!”

  Jarla wanted to stab him in the heart. She knew he was lying. She’d killed men for less in the past, but now, she didn’t have it in her. This war wasn’t with men, it was with underlings. She marked him on the arm with the tip of her axe.

  Pernsky shimmied away. “You won’t kill me.”

  “I will if you betray me.” She slung Brool over her shoulder. “Now, take me to the pit.”

  CHAPTER 20

  Master Sinway’s mind suffocated Venir’s thoughts.

  “You will die, Darkslayer!” Sinway said. “You will die swimming in your own guts. Now tell me where the armament is!”

  Venir was drowning in a sea of black. The void permeated his body. It burned, everywhere. He climbed through the hellish black fires with a will that would not give. The current of evil tried to take him. He held fast. He’d fought over a thousand times before. One more was nothing. No matter how painful.

  “Tell me all that I must know!”

  Sinway’s mind-probing powers drilled into Venir’s memories. A flood of information came forward from the very first moment he touched the armament and beyond. Venir saw the axe, Brool, plucked from his fingers by Sinway. The underling held it in the air, gloating. A lightning bolt streaked down through the purple-black sky, charging the weapon. Sinway chittered with glee.

  “Get out of my head, fiend!” Venir managed to say. His body bucked in the webs. “Get out!”

  A new image sprung forth—a vicious underling bulging in muscle wielded the armament. It wore a metal helmet with burning black eyelets. Burning ruby eyes glared from the eye holes. It carried a shield with notches designed on the edge. The axe it carried had nasty jagged edges. The underling darkslayer hunted down and slew every friend Venir ever had. Red blood flooded into the gutters on the streets.

  Master Sinway cackled. “You are doomed.”

  Venir, bare chested, faced off with the evil darkslayer version of himself in a dark and dustier version of the Warfield. The evil darkslayer came at him. Venir ducked a fatal swing. He popped up and spit in the fiend’s eyes. “This is my armament!”

  Venir wrestled over the ground for the axe. He landed hard punches. He ripped the axe free from the monster’s grasp and split its face in half. “My axe!”

  Back in reality, his hard blue eyes shot open. His hot gaze locked onto Master Sinway’s iron eyes. There was outrage. Shock.

  Sinway hissed. “You know nothing!” He floated away and turned. “That sack is here still! I sense it! Find it!”

  The underling soldiers broke off into search parties. The rest of the audience remained.

  “I beat you,” Venir muttered. There wasn’t an ounce of strength left in him. His head was pounded like a blacksmith’s hammer on an anvil. “I beat you.”

  Sinway faced him once more. “You beat nothing. You are about to die. Already, the wolf spiders nibble at your fingers. Your comrades’ as well.”

  Brak and Ebenezer screamed. The wolf spiders, with fuzzy white hair and red stripes, gnawed on their flesh.

  “Get it off of me! Get it off of me!” Ebenezer screamed.

  “Heh-heh-heh,” Sinway said in a very human way. “Enjoy your death; I know that I will.” He floated back into the stands and took his place between Elypsa and Kuurn, who were now seated.

  “Father! It hurts!” Brak called out. “Aaaaaugh!”

  Venir’s heart clenched. He fought against his bonds. It did no good. Sinway was right. The end had finally come. The call for the armament had fallen to someone else. In the end, he had failed. “Don’t cry out, son!” he shouted to Brak. “Don’t give them the satisfaction!”

  His shouts carried over Ebenezer’s own wailing. The underlings looked on the dying men, unable to hide their wicked hearts. Their gray faces showed glee… elation. It was sickening to see one taking such pleasure in suffering. The underlings delighted in it.

  Venir crushed a palmful of spiders in his hand. It was all he could do. He squished their guts out with his fingertips. “Fight or die!”

  Brak caught sight of him. His hands, as big as shovel spades, did the same thing. He clenched his palms. “Fight or die!”

  “Fight or die!” Venir hollered back. “The old knight swings! Lady death sings! Fight or die, lads! Fight or die!”

  Together, they sang out the same chorus. Somehow, Ebenezer managed to join in.

  The underlings’ triumphant expressions soured with disappointment. They hissed and chittered in offense. Kuurn shouted out, “Stop saying that!”

  “Slat on you, underling!” Brak shouted fiercely. “Fight or die, you giant rat turd!”

  A strange buzz overcame the room. Venir managed a glance up. There was a spider on his nose. He tried to shake it off. A swarm of termite-like insects with sandy bodies and light-blue wings flew down from the skylight above. They attacked the spiders, goring them with bee-like needles on their tails. The wolf spiders’ legs stiffened like paralyzed hands. Many dropped to the floor. Others clung to the web.

  The wolf spider gnawing on Venir’s nose froze then fell. A bug replaced it. The odd termite had the bulging bug eyes like a strider. It winked at Venir just before it flew away, and Venir swore that it smiled. Slim?

  The spider threat was gone, but they were still stuck in the webbing. He looked up at Brak, who hung a body higher than him. Together, they burst out laughing.

  “Ha! Ha! Fight or die!”

  Kuurn silenced them both with two pairs of lightning jolts from his fingers. The hairs on the men’s bodies sizzled. With a heaving chest, Kuurn said, “No more! Master Sinway, I beg you, can I kill them?”

  Eyes simmering with rage, Sinway said, “Yes, Kuurn, you may.”

  Lightning streaked out of Kuurn’s fingers. Father and son cried out as the bolts of power smote both men’s flesh with scalding intensity. The onslaught burned skin and clothing. The smell of burned hair filled the air.

  CHAPTER 21

  Melegal vanished. As he did so, Ashlyn scurried into a doorless locker, curled up, and covered herself in towels and clothing. Melegal pressed himself into a nook. It came naturally, even when he was invisible. Just in case I’m not invisible. It’s odd not seeing myself. I like it.

  A foursome of underlings jogged into the prep room. Bulging in sinewy muscles, with carved-up skin and body piercings, came the fearsome badoon. Covered in ghoulish tattoos, they chittered among themselves.

  The wickedness in their voices rankled Melegal. He fought the urge to stab one. Just move on, gray hides. After a short, chittering chat, the underlings departed. Finally.

  No one else was coming, but there was still plenty of turmoil coming f
rom the arena. Master Sinway’s voice carried like a bullhorn. So did Venir’s but without enchanted power. Ashlyn came out of her concealment.

  “Why did you hide in an ogre’s trousers?”

  “Where are you?” she said, sparkling blue eyes searching after his voice.

  “I’m here. Come.” He reached out and took her hand. “Better?”

  “I suppose.” She squeezed his hand, trembling a little. “Now what do we do?”

  “We don’t do anything.” He moved into the darkness of the dugout, towing her behind him. “Keep quiet.”

  Venir, Brak, and Chongo were strung up in the webbing. Spiders were eating them. Ebenezer screamed like a woman.

  Ashlyn gasped. “They’re being consumed like the dead. I can’t look.”

  Melegal was at a loss. He couldn’t walk out there and cut the web. The only thing he could think to do was burn it. But that only worked some of the time, and he’d probably have to give up his invisible identity. I’ll never pull that off!

  Madness begat madness as Venir and Brak belted out an abysmal “Fight or Die” song.

  He is such a lout. He doesn’t even know how to die right. I’d be like Ebenezer—screaming like a woman.

  His head tingled. Something lurked in the ceiling. Before Melegal could stab at the unknown enemy, it dropped from its hiding spot. A small muscular body crushed Ashlyn into the ground. Talon-like hands pierced her ribs. Its wide jaws with protruding fangs clamped down on her throat. Wide-eyed, she died instantly with her gaze frozen on Melegal. He stabbed the creature through the spine. Hunchbacked bastard! He stabbed it a few more times. His body became visible. Not again! He twisted the ring and vanished again. I wonder how many times I can do this?

  Shoving the urchling aside, he kneeled down and closed Ashlyn’s beautiful eyes. “So sorry. I intended to save you, regardless of my words. I have a soft spot for most ladies, even the bad ones.” He turned his attention back to the arena. “But, I guess I’m going to have to save my friend instead.”

  Melegal took a deep breath, tuned in with his cap, checked the ceiling one last time, and crept into the arena. It was about then that the humming started. Strange bugs flew in and attacked the spiders. The white arachnids dropped dead or paralyzed on the floor. He climbed into the stands.

  Webs divided the room, keeping the majority of the underlings on the opposite side. He caught his first glimpse of Elypsa standing by an underling with a presence like no other. He dominated the others in the room. Melegal knew it was Sinway, but he dared not think his name for fear of revealing himself. He’d seen what the powerful underlings could do. That’s when a citrine-eyed underling on the opposite side of Sinway let loose an outburst. The lightning flung from his fingertips silenced Venir and Brak.

  “No more! Master Sinway,” the underling mage said. “I beg you, can I kill them?”

  Sinway said, “Yes, Kuurn, you may.”

  Lightning streaked out of Kuurn’s fingers, striking into Venir and Brak. Both men flinched and quavered.

  Melegal weaved his way through the underlings, both dead and living. Only Brak, Venir, and Chongo could leave such a mess. He picked his way through the death-hungry lot. The underlings chittered with triumph while Venir and Brak’s skin smoked as they spasmed. He positioned himself behind Kuurn and raised the sword over the underling’s back for the fatal strike.

  I’ll certainly die after this. Any final words to yourself, Melegal? He kept hearing Venir and Brak singing the horrible fight or die song in his head. Sonuvabish! Not that! Think of the wine, the women. Images of Haze, Rayal, Jasper, and Kam raced through his mind. Ah, that’s better. I’ve had a rotten life, but it’s still been better than most. So long, Venir. I escape. You still suffer. Eh, but you deserve it. I, Melegal, lived, stole, fought, and died. Drink the purple wine in my memory.

  With all of the wroth force he could summon in his scrawny limbs, Melegal stabbed Kuurn. The blade went in the back clean, severing the spine, before exiting the chest.

  The lightning in the underling mage’s fingers went out. The rambunctious crowd was still cheering. It was a long moment before Kuurn’s body slipped from the sword. His head bounced off the bench seats in front of him with a sickening thud.

  Melegal’s reappearance slowly sank in. All of the gem-colored eyes in the stands fell on him. He found himself face-to-face with Master Sinway. The all-powerful underling was bigger in stature than Melegal. His fiery iron gaze burned Melegal’s eyes. The sword in Melegal’s hand became hot. He dropped it.

  Master Sinway said to Melegal, “Who are you?”

  “An uninvited guest just passing through. This is a marvelous ceremony, but this underling was in my seat, so I had to take action.”

  Elypsa shot out of her chair. “That was my betrothed.”

  “Good—” Melegal cleared his throat. “Good to see you, Elypsa.”

  “You know this man?” Sinway said to Elypsa.

  She nodded toward Venir, who was nothing but sagging limbs in the webbing. “He’s one of them.”

  “I see. They are proving difficult to kill, aren’t they? I suppose I must handle it.” The air around Sinway shimmered.

  Melegal was lifted from his feet. He twirled through the air in horizontal cartwheels, spinning faster and faster. He grabbed his cap before it slipped off his head. His body was flung face-first into the web. Gack!

  CHAPTER 22

  Jarla hadn’t been inside a royal castle since she was a royal soldier herself—back when she’d risen to the rank of commander, a rare honor for a woman. She had access to all of the pleasantries that a royal experienced, without being a royal. Times were good then, until the dark nature of men revealed itself. They took her against her will and left her for dead.

  “Come, my queen, come,” Pernsky said. He was hiding underneath the stairs, peeking around the corner. Underlings hustled by, racing up the stairs and searching door after door. Pernsky led them across the hall into one of the many living rooms. This one was decorated in scarlet tapestries and brass fixtures. The fresh flowers in the vases had dried up, and several bloodstains covered the carpet.

  Jarla’s lip curled. She had little compassion for royals. There were some good ones, but most of them were bad. They were pompous, self-indulgent, and only craved more power for themselves. Young, and lacking wisdom, she’d tried to impress them. Instead, they left an impression that stained her heart black. As Pernsky traipsed across the room, she caught him by the elbow. “I said take me to the arena. I don’t need a tour of the castle.”

  “No, trust Pernsky. Trust. The underlings, I know their ways. They search. We evade.” He showed a toothy smile full of missing teeth. “Believe me, I have mastered being unseen. The royals don’t like me.” He slipped behind the drapes, pushed the wall, and a concealed door popped open. “Come. Come.”

  Brool in hand, Jarla navigated the servants’ tunnels. She’d often wondered where they came from. It was rumored that the servants outnumbered the royals three to one. Each royal had many attendants, but you never saw more than a few together. They climbed a narrow set of stone stairs hidden behind the wall. There was an overlook, hidden above the foyer.

  In a whisper, Pernsky said, “We see them, they don’t see us. Look down.”

  Both underlings and royal soldiers had gathered in the grand foyer. The underlings were calling the shots. There were over twenty of them. One of the royal soldiers was describing the stitched-up sack. They split up into pairs.

  Pernsky’s drooping eyes hung on the sack that Jarla had tucked into her belt. “Don’t get any ideas, warted fool,” she said.

  “No, no, never, never,” he said, pawing at her. “You are my queen. I serve you now. We go, eh.” He gave her a funny look. “Will you please tell me your name?”

  “No.”

  “Queen No, I like it.”

  Jarla almost smiled. As grotesque as Pernsky was, he had an odd way that grew on her. “Lead the way.”

  Castle Kling
had as many corridors inside the walls as it did outside. They were squeezing through the network when they ran into a fat servant. Sweaty and big-eyed, the man turned to run. His bulging belly got him wedged between the walls. He tried to suck it in with a quick breath. Realizing he couldn’t get away, he put a whistle to his lips and blew.

  Jarla smacked it out of the man’s mouth. He was the head servant, dressed in a dark-black uniform smock highlighted in red. She stuck Brool’s point underneath his sagging chins. “Whose side are you on, headmaster?”

  Stammering, he said, “I’m only following orders. That’s all. Please don’t kill me! If I don’t do my job, the underlings will hang me.”

  “There’s not a rope that could hold you,” she said. The gentle rattle of sword scabbards jangling on hips carried up the hidden hallway. Red gemstone eyes peeked around the corner. “Move it, fat man!”

  The overweight butler tried to turn. Pernsky shoved him. “Move your fat arse.”

  “There’s no time for this!” Jarla lowered Brool like a lance and charged the underlings. With the corridor so narrow, only one could attack at a time. It chopped its sword down just as she ran it through. The spike poked a clean hole in the underling’s chest. Jarla kept charging, pushing the skewered underling into the living one until she bowled it over. Putting her weight on the handle, she pushed Brool’s tip further through the underling to the other until they both were dead. She ripped it out.

  Tweeeep! Tweeeep! Tweeeep!

  She whipped her head around. Pernsky was blowing the whistle with all of his might. The head servant had squirted through the opening. Underlings appeared behind Pernsky. “You little traitor!”

  Pernsky shrugged. “I am not a traitor. I’ve always been on the side of the underlings! Good-bye, sacred queen. If they don’t kill you, perhaps I will visit you again in prison.” The underlings shoved by him. They were coming at Jarla from both directions. Trapped, she realized she’d only be able to fight against one side at a time. Brool was too big to fight effectively in the corridor.

 

‹ Prev