He and his men scanned the forest. They eyed the tall tree tops. A couple of them checked the bushes. “No,” he grunted. “Human women are stupid sluts.”
“Oh,” Trinos said, toying with her hair. “But maybe I’m not human. Maybe I’m an underling in disguise.”
The orc got a wide look in his eye and stepped away. “Go check it out,” he ordered his men. “You aren’t an underling. You’re just some crazy woman. A druid, I bet. Now, off with your clothes and hand over those jewels you have on.”
“Or what?”
The orc started to speak but she cut him off.
“I know, you’ll kill me.” She sighed. “I tell you what, Orc. You can have the dress and the jewelry. Here.”
She snapped her fingers.
The orc’s armor was replaced with her dress. His bracers now bedecked her arms, and she wore her own form fitting chainmail armor along with the orc’s battle axe slung over her shoulder. She started laughing.
“What!” the orc said. His hairy hands were filled with a bouquet of flowers. He slung them to the ground. “Undo this, you witch druid! I knew it!”
The rest of the orcs started laughing and pointing. One gusty laugh at a time.
“Stop it!” The orc tore at the dress but it wouldn’t come off. “Get it off me!”
“You look pretty,” one of the orcs said, holding his gut. Another one fell over.
Perhaps that’s why I created them. They have a great sense of humor. Crude, but funny.
The orcen leader charged.
“Die, Witch!”
Oh my!
She froze him dead in his tracks. Not even his eyes moved. She whispered in his ear.
“Come after me again, and I’ll end you. All of you.”
She released him.
He stumbled to the ground and bounced back up to his feet, his ruddy face filled with fury. His fists were clenched at his sides. He snorted in her face, shaking. Afraid.
“Go home, Orc,” she said. “This forest is a dangerous place. Even for the likes of you.”
She returned his axe and armor. Her garment changed to the more common clothes of a traveler. Empty handed, the orcs left her. None of them looked back. A sandaled man and woman clothed in sandy white robes from head to toe appeared at her side with haunting faces.
“You should have let us kill them,” the man said. “I’m itching for a fight.”
“As am I,” said the other.
Trinos turned to them both. They were the Nameless Two. She had found them in the lone hilltop in the Warfield. They had tried to kill her the second she stepped into their lair. And failed. They were an interesting pair. Soldiers born for battle and blood. Loyal to their mountain and all of its secrets. She had healed their faces. Cured their insanity. But the fight was still in them. Fearless. Hungry. She would need it.
“Save your energy,” she said. She plucked a lavender flower from the bushes and placed it in her hair. “There are far more dangerous things in this forest. Come.”
“As you wish,” they both said, falling in step behind her.
Trinos wanted to see her world first hand with her own eyes. She wanted to feel it. Taste it. Experience it. But my, was it dangerous. Even here, on a world she herself had created, she needed protection. The underlings were a problem. Scorch had given them too much power when he meddled with the world the first time. She had underestimated the effects of what he’d done. The scales were now deeply tipped in the favor of evil. The equalizer she’d put in place, the armament, might not be up to its task.
Deeper into the great forest of Bish they went, where a series of caves greeted them like an open tomb.
I’ve created a broken world and I don’t think I can fix it. Not without help.
Inside they went.
CHAPTER 19
“It’s just a friendly visit, Kam,” Master Sidebor said. “There is no reason to seem so mortified. After all, I’ve gotten to know you quite well.” He looked at baby Erin. “What matters most, eh?”
Kam sat down in the chair. Held Erin tight. The baby had stopped crying and her warm body nuzzled closer to her breast. Kam could barely breathe. Barely think.
“What do you want with me? What does Scorch want with me?” She pointed her stump of an arm at him. “I’m no threat to you! Or Scorch!”
Sidebor leaned his shoulder against the wall. His chiseled face wasn’t old, but it seemed ancient somehow. The way he spoke and moved carried power and authority. The entire room was filled with him.
“Scorch likes your place,” he said. “It’s not to my taste, but for the time being it will suffice. I’m just here to keep things in order. He’s attached to the one woman, Darleen. He likes her loyalty. Your own loyalty could benefit you as well.”
“To him or to you?”
“You’re a strong woman, Kam. I can use you.”
“For what?”
“Things are changing in this world. Changing fast.” He rolled his finger in the air. A circle of blue flame ignited, expanded and extinguished.
She blinked. Her body loosened. Sidebor seemed different. Pleasant.
“I want you to be a part of this,” he said, coming closer. He kneeled down and smiled. “I understand you. I admire you. Your tenacity. Maybe it’s this body I’m in. It feels drawn to yours. Put your baby down, Kam.”
“Uh …” She looked at him and then the baby. She blinked hard. The room changed. It was soft. Comfortable. She smelled tiger lilies, her favorite. “Alright.” She laid Erin in her cradle and it started to rock. Erin was fast asleep. Kam felt a breeze flowing through her hair. The air became misty and hot.
“I know what you need, Kam. What you long for. You’re a passionate woman,” he rubbed her knee.
Her blood went hot. Her breath became heavy. Her lips parted.
“Don’t,” she sighed, looking away.
Sidebor turned her chin with her fingers.
“I can’t help it. You’re so beautiful.”
The small dark man was gone, replaced by the strong visage of a warrior. He rose, towering over her, and dropped his robes.
“I miss you, Kam.”
She looked up with dreamy eyes. His face was hazy. His white teeth grim.
“Venir?”
He pulled her blouse off and tossed it aside. Her body ignited. She shoved him onto the bed. Back and forth they went in passion like she’d never felt. Her body shook and trembled on and on until her passions ran out.
***
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Kam.”
Kam shot up in her bed. Eyes wide searching for Erin. The baby was fast asleep.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
“Kam!”
It was Joline’s voice on the other side. She went for the door.
“Slat.”
She was naked. She started shaking. She rubbed her messed up hair on her aching head.
What have I done? What have I done?
“Kam! You open this door right now!” Joline said. “And I’m taking all your Muckle Sap.”
“Coming!”
She snatched her clothes up and jammed them on. Threw up the latch and slung the door open.
Joline startled.
“Kam, are you alright?”
Mercy was at Joline’s side.
“I’ve been knocking for minutes.”
“Where’s Sidebor?” Kam said to Joline, buttoning her blouse, “have you seen him up here?”
Joline shook her head. “Why no. He’s been down at the bar. Quiet as a mouse. Odd as always. Why, Kam? Why? You’re scaring me.”
Kam shoved her way past some curious onlookers and stopped at the balcony overlooking the bar. Billip, cleaning a glass, nodded up at her with a smile. Sidebor sat the bar as he had before. Withdrawn and sipping wine. His ruby eye winked at her.
Bastard!
She stormed down the stairs with fire in her eyes.
***
The walls shook. Plates rattled. Brak dropped
his scrubber and dashed through the kitchen door.
Kam was screaming in Sidebor’s face.
“What have you done to me!”
She started slapping him with her only hand.
Darleen stormed over. She grabbed Kam by the hair and slung her to the floor. Kam jumped into Darleen’s face.
“Get out of my way, Critter Face!”
Darleen socked her in the gut.
Kam collapsed on her knees.
Billip went over the bar and shoved Darleen out of the way.
“What are you doing?”
Georgio, Nikkel, Jubilee, and Brak huddled around Kam. She lay on the ground coughing. Billip helped her to her feet. Her pretty face was drained.
Darleen shoved Billip in the face. He drew back his fist.
“Don’t even try if you don’t want Scorch to roast you again. Now get back to work! All of you!”
No one moved.
“Don’t make me say it,” Darleen said. She pointed at each and every one of them. “Now, behave yourselves. Or you’re done for, starting with Kam.”
Sidebor started to laugh. The sound was chilling.
“Leave them be, Woman. They can bring no harm to me, but I can bring much to them.” He nodded at Kam. “But Red here troubles me. She tried to hurt me. Perhaps you can give her another charge.” He tapped his nail on the pickle jar. “One that’s suited for one arm.”
Something stirred inside Brak’s belly. The ruby-eyed man, Sidebor, was bizarre. The way he talked and moved was disturbing.
Darleen turned on him and said, “I give the charges, wee little man, not you. She does what I say she does, and I don’t care if you don’t like it and she don’t like it, either.” She looked back at all of them. “Get back to work, all of you! Red, you stay with me!”
Brak helped Kam to a seat at the table.
“Are you alright?” he said, looking at her.
She scowled, slapped his face and said, “Go away.”
Now it was Darleen’s turn to chuckle.
“Ew-wee, I didn’t see that coming.”
Jubilee grabbed his wrist and led him back into the kitchen.
“Boy, Brak, for someone that doesn’t say much, you sure have a silver tongue with the ladies.”
“But I …” he started rubbing his cheek. Kam hadn’t even hit him hard enough to sting. It was the look she’d given him that he felt. Like she was hitting someone else. “Never mind.”
Jubilee piped up again.
“Everyone needs to settle down,” she said, looking back at the kitchen doors, “Because I’ve a feeling if we don’t, ole Critter Face is gonna have us all killed.” She tossed him a dish rag. “And Kam’s weird. I don’t know what to make of her. She should just stay in her room, drink, and rock her baby.”
Brak didn’t know what to make of any of it. He felt for Kam. He felt for all of them. He grabbed a dish and started rubbing. He could still feel Scorch’s fire in his belly. See the horrified faces of his friends while they spun in midair, screaming in silence. He snapped a dish in half.
“Brak!” Jublilee said, looking around. “What are you doing? Are you hungry? Don’t go berserk on me. Not now. Slat!”
His hand started to bleed.
Jubilee wrapped it up in a rag. Her eyes like saucers. “Settle down, Brak. Settle down.”
CHAPTER 20
Creed bounced his shoulders and swords.
This is stupid! This is stupid! This is stupid! I’m going to die again!
He could feel every underling closing in on him. Their beating hearts. Gnashing teeth. Each and every one wanted to tear him to shreds. There was no hiding now.
The ornate bracers throbbed on his wrists. Vitality flowed through his veins like a rushing river. He could beat anyone. Anything. He was invincible. He’d felt invincible the last time too.
Control it, Creed. Control it!
He stood in the intersection, slowly turning with his blades. The underlings slowed. Chittered. Crept.
He could feel their apprehension. They knew him. Feared his steel. His speed. Death is feared by all things, even underlings. He scraped his blades along the bricks.
“Come on then, little fiends.”
The shroud throbbed a warning. Danger came from above. Underlings with small crossbows filed along the rooftops. Their triggers rocked the night.
Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip!
His swords sprang up.
Ting! Ting! Ting!
A net fell from the night. He swung.
Slice!
He cut right through it.
“Bone!” You fiends were coming for me all along.”
He ran down the alley whence he came. The one that headed back to Castle Bloodhound.
Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip!
A shot of steel lit up his back. Creed bore down on the throng of evil that waited. Metal met metal. Flesh met steel.
Slice! Slice! Stab! Cut!
Throats opened. Bellies were gutted.
Howls of anguish and anger filled the alley to the rooftops. The frenzied hoard trampled over one another. Bolts zinged through the air.
Creed kept swinging. Stabbing. Cutting. Parrying. A symphony of steel. He headed for the light ahead. The main road led to home. He could outrun them if he could just get away from them.
Faster Creed! Faster! Attack! Attack! Attack!
Underlings fell like bloody leaves at his feet. Dark blood slicked the stones. Throwing elbows and pommels, he fought like a hungry bear.
He sunk his blade into the last underling to bar his path, ripped it out, and sped ahead.
Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip! Clatch-Zip!
The underlings poured through the alleys after him like pack of jackals, all their cunning tactics gone. They wanted his blood. They wanted it bad. Creed had mown down dozens of them. It was personal.
He flew by one lantern on the street then another, yelling at the top of his lungs.
“HOUNDS! HOUNDS! HOUNDS!”
Castle Bloodhound was a hundred yards away. He glanced over his shoulder. The underlings were less than ten yards from his back, gaining. Twenty, maybe thirty of them.
“Little bastards are fast!”
He turned it on. Legs and lungs on fire. His right leg turned stiff as a board. A bolt protruded out of his thigh.
Poison!
Fifty yards away.
A sword licked across his back. With everything he had left, he howled like a hound.
“AaaaaaRoooooooooo!”
His vision dimmed.
Thirty yards away.
Open the door, blast it!
The gate swung open. A tide of dogs flooded out in small coats of armor and dashed straight for him. There must have been a hundred of them, maybe more. The hounds darted by Creed, jaws wide, and slammed into the underlings.
Creed stumbled and hit the ground, gasping for breath. Behind him, the dogs tore into the underlings in a frenzy. The attack dogs were big. Bullmastiffs and Rottweilers. Their jaws were iron clamps on underling arms and necks. That’s why no one messed with the Bloodhounds. Not the City Watch, soldiers, nor Royals. Their dogs were loyal, fearless, relentless unto death.
Painful yelps caught Creed’s ears. He crawled up on his hands and knees. The underling forces had rallied and now struck. One dog went down, then two.
“NO!”
Creed pushed himself over the road, swords scraping over the stone. Strong hands grabbed ahold of him and dragged him away. He screamed once more and the darkness came.
***
“Is he well?” Lord Grom said.
“As well as can be,” Haggie said. She dipped a towel in a strong-smelling substance and rubbed it on his chest. “Strange these wounds didn’t heal like the last ones.”
Creed sat in his bed, inspecting his stitches. They were sore and his stomach was queasy. Shifting in his bed, he groaned.
“Be still,” Haggie said, poking him with her cro
oked finger, “or you’ll tear those through.”
“I’m fine.” He looked at his grandfather, who was glaring at him. “For now.”
He looked away. Here it comes. He found the eyes of Lorda, who sat on the edge of the bed. There was a concerned look in them. She likes me some. She must. Corrin was in there too, leaning on the frame of his door with his hand tucked in his scabbard belt. He’d taken a beating days earlier but his steely gaze had returned.
“Fifteen,” Lord Grom said, glowering at him. He took a deep breath through his nose and exhaled.
“Dogs?” Creed said.
“Aye.” Grom snorted. “And two men as well.”
Creed’s shoulders slouched. The sickness in his belly swelled. It had been over a day since they dragged him inside. A jar full of leeches sat on the table by his bed. Haggie had spent the entire time drawing the poison from him. Stitching over a dozen wounds and doctoring him with elixirs that kept the fever down. He rubbed his naked wrists. His eyes searched for the armament. He didn’t see it.
“Grandfather,” he said, “I can’t express—”
Lord Grom’s glare was like a hungry grizzly’s, his words hot as fire.
“Don’t say it!” He pounded his fist into his barrel chest. “Good men died, and many of our finest hounds, all because you want to play some kind of hero! I told you! I warned you! What were you thinking!”
Creed swallowed hard and pulled his covers up. He’d never felt smaller, nor more foolish. The last of all people you wanted to upset was his grandfather. It took much to do that.
“I’ll make it right,” Creed said, wincing.
“Oh, you can bring back the dead, can ye? Is that your secret from your little bag of tricks?” He held up the stitched-up leather sack and waved it in his face.
Slat! How did he find that?
“Can you stuff the dead in here and bring them back?” Grom roared. “You know I don’t care for this mysticism! You are a swordsman, Creed! A Bloodhound. You can only trust flesh and blood. You are loyal to us, and us alone, or you will be alone!” Grom spit through his beard. “Am I clear!
“Certainly,” Creed said. He reached for the sack.
Grom snatched it away and turned his attention to Haggie.
“How well is he?”
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