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

by Craig Halloran

  “Agreed,” Elypsa said. She noted a group of juegen marching down the streets. They were in full metal that covered everything but their hands and feet. Each carried a pair of swords on their hips. “Master Sinway, I would plead with you that I could join them. I want to fight.”

  “Are you hoping to find a suitor down there?”

  “No. I just want to be a part of the final battle. This will be the final battle, won’t it?”

  Master Sinway shrugged. He seemed relaxed, almost fatherly. His rigid exterior was gone for the moment. “Even I cannot predict the future, but I like our chances.”

  “Are you toying with me?”

  “No, I’m toying with the enemy. You should learn how to delight in it, the same as I.” He lifted his hand into the air. The first sun was rising behind them, leaving them in the shade of the castle, but the rays of sunlight clipped the sharp nails on his fingers. “Tell me, Elypsa, which do you prefer, the land below or above?”

  “To be frank, I find the landscape above unbearable. I miss our cooler climates and the comfort of the underlight.” A human servant girl walked between them with a tray of food and crystal glassware. Trembling, she set the tray down on a small patio table between them. There was a vial as well, filled with the green liquid Elypsa had witnessed the underlings making below the streets. It was clear as a green wine now. “I think the under troops are agitated by the suns, as well.”

  “Yes, I want them agitated. The more they hate the humans, the better.” The servant girl turned away. “Stay,” Sinway said.

  All of the royals that lived in this particular castle has been killed on the spot or taken to the gallows. Now, only a handful of human servants remained. This serving girl, in a modest blue working dress and cotton servant’s uniform cap, was one of them. So far, she’d managed not to draw Sinway’s ire. The master of all underlings seemed to be in a good mood, which was strange.

  Crossing her leg over her knee, Elypsa asked, “So, are you going to tell me about this underling brew you have created, or do I need to guess?”

  “I thought you would never ask,” he said. Without even prompting the servant girl, she poured a decanter of clear water into a glass, stopping at the half-full level. Sinway twisted in his seat a little, in a casual human-like way. He picked up the green vial, pulled the cork, and emptied it into the glass of water. “Watch.” The green wine mixed with the water and swirled for seconds, until the contents were clear as crystal. Sinway handed Elypsa the glass.

  She sniffed the rim of the glass. “There’s no odor.”

  “And no taste either,” he said. “You can drink it, but it won’t have any effect on an underling. My concoction was created to take down humans. I’ve been poisoning their wells with it for quite some time. The fools don’t even know it.”

  Elypsa leaned forward in her seat and set the glass down. “And what does this concoction do, Master Sinway?”

  “An excellent question.” He looked up and spoke to the servant girl. “Little maiden, do you see that pigeon on the terrace railing?” The girl had broken out in a cold sweat. She nodded. “Good. I want you to catch it for me.”

  All of a sudden, the girl hopped the table. She chased the pigeon on the rail. The bird spread its wings and flew away. The girl spread her arms wide, jumped the rail, and dove after the pigeon. She vanished beneath the terrace wall. A dull thud followed immediately thereafter.

  “Impressive.” Elypsa got up and looked over the railing. The woman had hit the deck below like a blanket tossed out of a window. She hit face-first with her hands stretched out. “She’s still moving.”

  “Really? The human is more durable than I thought. Now, just imagine, as all of these citizens join the dwarves and whatever royals are willing to fight, just when they are in the thick of it, they are attacked by their own kind. It will be a delicious thing.”

  “I’d say.” Elypsa resumed her seat. “It seems that you thought of everything.”

  “You cannot imagine all of the horrible things I’ve thought of, but it’s coming. Just wait. It’s coming.” Suddenly, Sinway clutched his head. His eyes flickered like iron flames. He knocked the table over, got up from his chair, and staggered.

  Elypsa rushed to his side. She grabbed his arm and steadied him. “What is it?”

  “The Darkslayer. I felt the presence like a beacon.” His clenched fists turned to bright-red flames. Elypsa backed away from the searing heat. “He knows where I am. I feel where he is. The time to attack has come!”

  CHAPTER 18

  The standoff between Venir and Brak went on for a few moments before Venir’s temper cooled. Venir offered a hand, helped his bigger son to his feet, and said, “Well done.”

  Mood opened the cell door and let them out. Brak handed Venir the helmet. Venir stared into the eyelets for a long moment. “One way or the other, this is coming to an end.” He packed the three items of the armament away in the sack. “I could sense all of them. Sinway is near the East Gate. I know that. He was the strongest source. If I can get close enough, I can track him down and kill him.”

  “You tried that once. Now might be the time to try something else. Let’s talk about it.” Mood gave Venir a little shove in the back. “We’ll go up top.”

  Venir slung his pack over his shoulders. The air around him seemed heavy. His heart was heavy. The end was near, and he knew it. He caught Brak’s heavy gaze on him. “Don’t fear for me, son. I can handle it. I always have.”

  “I know. I just want to be by your side until the very end.”

  They headed up the stairs. “Well, I was hoping that I could teach you to be smarter than that. But you’re a man now. The decision is yours. I have my praise and respect. Vorla would be proud of you, Brak.”

  Brak’s expression saddened. He walked on, taking the lead up the stairs. His life had been nothing but hard since he came to the City of Bone, seeking out Venir, the father in his dreams. Vorla, his mother, paid the ultimate price, dying in the streets to a bunch of thugs, protecting the boy in their search for Venir. It was a cruel twist of fate. It seared the young man’s heart. Despite his size and mannish looks, he was little more than sixteen seasons old. He walked on heavy feet, opening the door at the top.

  There was a commotion in the main living room offset from the courtyard. Melegal, Ebenezer, Fogle, Rayal, and Elizabeth were transfixed on the man sitting on the floor. The blood-covered Creed had the pale look of death on his face. His hair hung over his eyes. Cass’s glowing hands were on his back. Billip was pulling crossbow bolts out of his body. Creed flinched.

  “What happened,” Venir asked Melegal.

  “I can’t readily say, but the man slaughtered his own, or they were going to slaughter him. Apparently, Lorda Almen had a hand in the treachery. She mentioned Tonio.”

  Venir flinched.

  “There was vengeance on her mind, but she is dead now. Allegedly.”

  “They were possessed,” Creed said in a raspy sigh. He spit out some blood that dripped down his chin. “I saw it in their eyes. Witchery is afoot. Gah!”

  Billip tossed another bolt aside. “I don’t know how he lives. I’ve pulled out five of these bolts. If he survives, it will be painful living.”

  Venir caught another presence in the room. Jarla lingered by the drapes by the bay window. Her eyes locked with his. They had a deeper connection. It was tied to the armament. He felt it. Looking away, he noticed Jasper lying underneath some sheets nearby. He turned to speak to Melegal.

  “Don’t say anything,” Melegal said. With downcast eyes, he walked away.

  CHAPTER 19

  Mood looked through the long brass cylinder of a spyglass. It was stretched out almost a full arm’s length. From the terrace of Castle Kling he had a clear view of the blockades that the dwarves had set up on the Royal Roadway. With the suns of the early day beating down from above, he said to Venir, “They are coming.”

  “The war for Bone has begun, then.” Venir took the spyglass f
rom Mood. “It’s going to be a long one.” Venir spied from spot to spot on the blockades. Over a thousand strong worked each blockade. They were led by blood rangers, who wore green and red dyed tunics of leather. Their beards were as red as Mood’s. Their stalwart builds gave them a commanding presence among the men and dwarves. “Are you certain you want to stay on the defensive, Mood?”

  “Aye, we need to test their strength and see what the war is going to toss at us. We got a good feel for their forces in the Black Columns, but we have some of the same problems.” He put his foot up on the terrace wall. “They come on those crawlers, up the walls and across the roofs, trying to make it past our defenses.”

  “Crawlers?” Nikkel said. The young black man fastened on a unique set of leather armor. It was dyed black, covering his ankles, torso, arms, and neck. It was special armor that the shadow sentries wore, called ghost armor.

  “He means the spiders.” Billip sat down, buckling the buckles of his own ghost armor suit. “Venir, do we really need to wear this getup? It will slow me. Throw off my aim and timing.”

  “It won’t throw off mine.” Nikkel aimed a bolt thrower toward the sky. Shutting one eye, he said, “My shots will be just fine. Of course, mine are always right on target.”

  “You can’t fight with your bowels spilled out.” Venir looked Nikkel and Billip up and down. The armor gave them a menacing look. “The second skin suits you.”

  “Yes, especially given that your own skin is very thin to begin with.” Melegal stood on the back side of the terrace, helping Brak with his armor. It was a suit of chainmail that Ebenezer procured for him. Ebenezer was helping out with Brak, wearing his own suit of ghost armor. “Slat, Ebenezer, when did you have a man so big that wore this?”

  “The man that wore this suit of chainmail didn’t live in my time, I assure you that. I just came across it when I was retrieving the ghost armor.” Ebenezer turned Brak around and buckled the back straps. “It’s a good fit, and notice how small the links are. Very light and made from the strongest steel. How does it feel, Brak?”

  “It feels like a wood shirt that’s soaked from days of rain.” He shrugged his shoulders. He looked at Venir, who wore a suit of oversized dwarven scale mail. “It will do.”

  “Well, don’t anybody get your head cut off,” Venir suggested with a little bit of mirth. He turned his attention back to the city’s rooftops. Fully armored dwarves and royal soldiers spread out over the rooftops. The royals and volunteer citizens now numbered in the thousands. There were hundreds of horse soldiers too. Jarla was working with them. “Do you think you need more men on the roofs? I can see where that is a problem.”

  Mood shrugged his brows. “There aren’t so many spiders as underlings. I think, given the underlings’ vast numbers, they’re going to try to find one spot and bust it open. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if they didn’t come right down the middle and try to bust that east gate open. They’ll want to collapse on us from both sides.” He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “If that happens, we’re up slat creek without an oar.”

  Nikkel chuckled. “I’ll have to remember that one.”

  Looking through the spyglass, Venir noticed the dwarves at the blockades waving dwarven battle flags. “The underlings are on the move,” he said. All of the men stood on the edge of the castle terrace. There were six blockades of defense that they could see. All of them were waving flags.

  “Aye!” Mood said. “The enemy is in a full advance. They come down all corridors.”

  “Yes, I can see them. Orcs and ogres are coming first. Interesting.” Venir turned and faced all of his friends. “Everyone knows where you’re going and what to do.”

  All of the men nodded.

  “I’ll see you on the battlefield.” He looked at his son. “Come with me, Brak.”

  ***

  Together, Venir and Brak entered the room where Kam and Erin were sleeping on the bed. Venir stood on one side of the bed, and Brak on the other. Kam and his daughter were sleeping peacefully underneath the comforter. Brak’s head came up to the top of the canopy. He had to stoop down to look inside. Whispering, he said, “Are you going to wake them?”

  Kam’s and Erin’s eyes opened wide. Kam rolled over to Venir with a smile. “I was dreaming about you, but you woke me up the minute you came in.”

  The bed creaked when he sat down. “So, you were playing possum?”

  “A little.” She rolled her head toward Brak, who’d picked up Erin. She was pulling his hair. “How are you, Brak?”

  “Fine, I suppose.”

  Kam sat up. She leaned over and hugged Venir. “This is it, I suppose. I was hoping I’d see you one more time, but I had my doubts, seeing how you are.” She squeezed him harder. “I’m glad you came.”

  “So am I, but I can’t stay long.”

  Kam tipped her head toward Brak. “Come over here, son. I want to feel your arms around me, too.”

  Brak’s eyes popped. With hesitation, he crawled onto the bed. Awkwardly, he put his arms around Kam, Venir, and Erin, in an odd bear hug.

  Kam nuzzled his arm. “It’s fine, Brak. You’re every bit the son I could have ever asked for.”

  The bed frame gave way to the heavy weight of Venir, Brak, and their armor. The collapsing cracking sound was as if they’d fallen from one floor to another. Kam burst out laughing. They all did. Erin giggled with glee. “Again! Again!”

  Finally, Venir wiped the joyful tears from Kam’s eyes and gave her a lasting kiss. He hugged and kissed his daughter good-bye, smiling at her. “You are my dearest.”

  Little Erin hugged his neck, patting his broad back. “Bye-bye, Daddy.”

  ***

  Kam didn’t fight the tears. She waved the fingers from the only hand she had left. She cradled Erin to her body with the other arm. Her heart sank as she watched them go. She caught the gaze of Brak. For some reason she mouthed the words, “Take care of him.”

  Brak silently replied, “I will.”

  CHAPTER 20

  The dwarves and soldiers stood behind blockade after blockade of stone piled up across the Royal Roadway. A score of them were behind every blockage, spaced out with ten yards between them in a staggered pattern. The only way through was to step over the men behind the blockades or come right through.

  The orcs, burly brutes with coarse black hair, beat their wooden shields with axes and swords. Howling at the top of their lungs, hundreds of them rushed headlong into the dwarven army.

  “It begins!” Mood bellowed. He waved his huge hand axes high. “The only good orc is a dead orc!” He rushed headlong into the tide of hairy men. Two orcs bore down on the dwarf with flails with spiked balls of steel on the end. Mood’s axe flashed. The first orc’s yellow eyes widened as his weapon hand detached at the wrist. Before the second orc could swing, Mood split his face open like a ripening melon. He put his axes to work.

  Chuk! Chuk! Chuk!

  The dwarves poked holes through the first striving rank of the orcs. The human soldiers’ spears poked the piggish men in the back and belly. The clamor of battle was a glorious death call of steel and metal, slicing and cracking bones. The orcs cried out with hatred for the short, stalwart men who were centuries old. One orc, with a layer of metal armor the others didn’t have and a face painted in dark blue, cracked a dwarf’s skull with a two-handed hammer blow. The dwarf’s broken teeth fell out on the street. He died on the spot.

  “Hardon!” Mood cried out the name of the dwarf. His axes chopped through the battling throng where the orc killer fought like three in one. His coat of mail glistened in an enchanted way. His hammer sang through the air when he swung. The orc’s thunderous blows knocked men and dwarves clear off their feet. Mood collided with the orc at the outermost blockage. Their weapons banged together.

  In a husky voice, the orc, a full foot taller than Mood, said, “Ah, a blood ranger. I’ve always dreamed of killing one. You’ll be the first to fall.”

  With the battle raging fro
m all directions, Mood and the orc went at it. He parried a blow from the orc’s hammer. The jarring blow woke him up a little. In a counter, he slashed his hand axe across the orc’s belly. The sharp dwarven steel didn’t penetrate the coat of mail.

  The orc, with a mouth of teeth that seemed as wide as his head, gloated. “You can’t kill what you can’t cut!” Lifting his hammer over his head, the orc thrust down with power and speed.

  Mood parried by crossing his axes. The fierce blow drove him to a knee. The hammer’s momentum made it pop into the top of his head. Painful spots exploded in his eyes. A knot throbbed on Mood’s dwarven skull. Through clenched teeth, he said, “I felt that! Now you’re going to feel me!” He swung like a farmer slicing down wheat with a sickle.

  Whack! Whack! Whack!

  Mood pounded the orc’s ribs with all the strength he had. His blows came strong and fast. The orc backpedaled, sucking for breath. He couldn’t lift his hammer to swing. Instead, he used the hammer’s handle and his arms to block the blows that were busting his rib bones. Mood flipped his axes in his wrist. He used the flat backsides like a hammer. “You don’t know how to fight with a hammer, piglet! I know how to fight with a hammer.”

  The confident sneer on the orc’s face went flat with fear. Hefting his hammer in front of his chest, he launched one last swing. The momentum sent him tumbling forward.

  Mood swatted the clumsy effort aside with one axe. With his other axe, he busted the orc square on the back of the head. The orc flattened out on the ground, dead. “Huzzah! Who’s next?”

  Three ogres standing eight feet tall waded into the ranks. They each carried a halberd like a man carries a spear. The humongous brutes locked their wicked eyes on Mood. They had stringy hair, big hard bellies, no armor, and arms and meaty hands that could throw anvils like a skipping stone. The one in the middle held a dwarven man’s head. He tossed it over his shoulder and said to Mood, “You are next, red beard.”