“After a few years, the setters are ready. We set em’ free. They can go anywhere they want on all of Bish. They find a master on their own. It kin’ be man or beast, but it’s nearly always a dwarf. I never seen one not come back to Dwarven Hole. But from this litter, Chongo left and never came back. I thought he were dead; maybe an underling got em’, I didn’t know,” Mood finished shaking his head.
Don’t stop, Mood; keep going. An odd few minutes passed as Fogle looked around, willing Mood to continue, but not daring to interrupt the giant dwarf's thoughts. The dwarf’s gaze was transfixed in the distance still; a cloud of smoke shaped like a forest came forth and drifted away. Fogle was rolling his hand. Come on!
Chapter 4
Catten’s stomach growled. His mind ached. Staying afloat days on end was not something he had done before. Now it seemed he had no choice. The wounds he had suffered days earlier from the human mage, Fogle Boon, were almost healed. Yet, he still ached inside. The shock of magic penetrating his skin and boiling his innards had been the first of its kind. He wiped his cracked lips and fingered the black scars on his abdomen. Pain was something he had no desire to ever get used to. Floating beside his brother, he was trying to catch a glimpse of the most brutal and unrelenting opponent he had ever known … the Darkslayer.
Verbard floated at his side, glaring downward at the hills. His brother was determined to take the human apart with another assault. Catten was patient while his brother was not, but his plan prevailed. Wear the man down, starve him to death, and leave not a single drop of water near the ground. Over the past two days they had both used their power and presence to clear any living thing from the man’s path. The Darkslayer below was more concerned with them than his own nutrition. What had sustained the man this long Catten could not comprehend, but something powerful and magical must have given him aid. It was frustrating.
He inhaled the stuffy hot air and closed his golden eyes. Insufferable! It seemed like the do or die mission Master Sinway had put them on was never going to end. Catten wanted to go home and bury himself in the comforts of the caves a thousand feet below. Now, he was out of his element, stuck under the beating suns and in the harsh winds. The smells of the lands began to annoy him, and his brother's chronic suggestions were wearing him down. If it weren’t for Verbard, he swore the Darkslayer would already be dead.
“Do you really think this will work, Catten? The man hasn’t fallen for any of our tricks, many of which have failed,” Verbard said.
“Please Brother, go ahead and try your tactic then. Land on the ground and have your power sweep the man away. When it falters and he finishes chopping you to bits, I’ll pluck your bloody ear from the ground and scream into it, ‘I told you so’.”
Verbard’s black brow buckled.
“Pah! We are not so weak. We have the power between us to turn that man into dust. The longer we wait, the stronger he gets.”
“I disagree, Fool! We have to wait until he is at his weakest, and then strike. You’ve seen the man and what he did to my Juegen, your urchlings, Master Sinway’s Vicious, and the Badoon. He must be separated from those weapons. He’s a man, but with that armament he’s something else. We can’t land and strike until he is flat-footed on the ground.”
Verbard’s eyes were molten silver on him, but Catten no longer cared if his brother hated him or not. He was beginning to think he would be better off on this charge alone. He was tired; his magic was coming and going. There were moments when he felt invincible, but they would pass, and doubt would settle in. No, Catten had to play it smarter, not be hasty, but patient and cunning, the way of his kind. He believed he could wear the man down. He had read the tomes about him from the halfling's written hand. The Darkslayer was only a man, a man named Venir, whose record clearly showed that he hated underlings. Catten watched as his brother floated away. The two had been feeding off each other as well. Maintaining constant flight was not easy, but they were born with the shadow walk, and that helped. The greater the altitude, the more difficult it became to maintain. Both of the underlings knew that if they hit the ground the Darkslayer would be there. They didn’t have the energy to stay in flight and strike at the same time. They had tried that before, expecting to destroy the man and hit the ground in victory. It hadn't turned out that way, so they stayed airborne, captive to the predator below. Catten had another plan, a clever one. If it worked, they could land and take the fight to the man. One final battle—winner take all—and go home.
Catten felt like he was cooking within his black robes. The two suns beat on his hooded black head, leaving his hair matted and sticky. It was hot, obscenely so, and he missed the cool cave air of the Underland. His skin was dry and flaking, and he felt thirsty for the first time in years. He pulled a small vial from the inside of his robes and twisted the cork out. It contained a clear yellow-green liquid of which he added a drop to his tongue. His mouth was filled with a rush of ice-cold water that he swallowed down in a gulp. His stomach filled, and his mouth tasted of baked meat and sweet vegetables. Ah … that’s better.
The potion was something his wife had prepared for him, and the small vial could last him weeks. He missed his wife, her beautiful face and fiendish grin. The thought that he might not see her again was a bother.
He looked into the clouds. Their patterns had been erratic, scattered, and swirling for the past few days. It seemed as if the air itself affected the flow of magic, bringing it in a rush and taking it away the same. Now, for the past few hours, things had been steady. The blue cloud-filled sky seemed normal for a change. He felt normal as well. Maybe Verbard was right, and the time was now.
He watched the hills below. A small figure emerged from the hills before his searching eyes. An axe-wielding butcher scaled the cliff like a natural born predator. The man’s trek was undaunted as he kept coming after them. Catten pulled his robes tight. This has to work. Verbard had gathered himself by his side. Both sets of eyes, silver and gold, were intent on what the man was about to do. Hours ago Catten had set a trap, despite Verbard’s misgivings. It was little more than an illusion, but a good one. There was a thick rotting branch jutting from a hillside. Above it was a nest of vipers hidden in the rock. Catten cast the illusion of a nest in both locations. The branch looked to be more like a sturdy limb of a tree with another nest inside.
“He seems wary, Brother,” Verbard said. “Perhaps we should go. You’ll know if he takes the bait, won’t you?”
“Yes, let’s move farther away. I’ll know it when the time comes.”
Catten and Verbard flew beyond the hill and waited. Catten meditated on his mutilation spells in the meantime. It was time the Darkslayer was undone.
Chapter 5
Kam was sobbing, again. She never used to cry, other than at a funeral or two, but now it seemed to come on all the time. Wiping her eyes with a rag, she rubbed more wax into one of the tables, bringing a nice sheen. It wasn’t a chore she often did, but she was sitting at the table where she had last sat with him … Venir. It was early, and no one was about. The boys, Lefty and Georgio, were still asleep. Her serving staff wouldn’t be in for a couple more hours. It was the only time she could sit here and think about the last time she talked with Venir, which always made her cry. She didn’t really understand why.
She muttered something. Invisible hands tied her long curly auburn hair behind her head, twisting it up in a perfect braid. It was a simple spell she had mastered when she was a girl. She tossed the rag down and had the invisible hands rub her shoulders. She had been polishing the same spot for half an hour. She missed Venir. He brought something she needed, something that other men simply didn’t have. His rugged character, charming smile, and crushing arms melted her. His kisses wanted her, and she missed that. The boys he left behind with her were little trouble, but they were chronic reminders of him.
She pushed herself away from the table and walked over to the semi-circle bar of gleaming black wood. Small brass lanterns with mystic yel
low lights illuminated the bar from above, a personal touch of her own. The shelves behind the bar offered a wide array of bottles, clear and filled with multi-colored liquids. Wine, grog and other things from all over Bish filled those bottles, and much of it was hard to come by. It served to draw a more reputed crowd and kept the more desperate types out. What will it be, Kam?
She twirled her fingers, and a rose-colored bottle floated over to her hand. She lifted the bottle, pulled the cork, and sniffed the bouquet. It was strong and sweet, like honeysuckles mixed with long fermented wine. She filled a tall glass, lifted her chin and drained it. The mead warmed her from throat to belly, the sweet taste of honey and the biting taste of something stronger at the same time.
“Ah! A few more of those and I’ll forget all about that man.”
Kam didn’t care what had gotten into her, but something was missing. A void she could not fill.
“Arse’s up,” she said, draining another glass. Her imagination exploded now with new thoughts, some dark and some light. Was Venir gone, dead? What about Fogle Boon? The morbid sense she had felt when Venir left this time was like a dark shadow in her mind. It told her he might be heading to the grave, facing his final conflict against evil. His smiles had been reassuring, but not warm, not like she knew him to be. The man was racked up in his own personal torment of good versus evil.
“This one’s for you, Venir, may Bish be with you.”
She drained the remaining contents from the bottle. Now toying with the bottle, she watched it teeter-totter back and forth. It wouldn’t be long. Just a few more minutes and she would be ready to deal with the new day. Muckle Sap had a long and lasting effect. It wasn’t her best seller, but it was now her best friend. She took the bottle in her gentle hand and walked back into the kitchen. An older woman with short graying curly hair smiled as she walked by.
“Good morning Kam … I see you’re about ready for a new day,” the woman said in a positive voice.
“Almost there, Joline.”
Kam placed the bottle in a crate that was filled with many other empties. Did I drink all of those? Hey, Joline, did I—”
“Yes, yes you did, you lush. I told you that the other day,” Joline said as she stirred more spices into a large vat of morning stew.
“Well, you better order some more.”
“I already did. Now sit down and have some breakfast.”
“I don’t have time. Maybe later.”
Joline grabbed her with a firm grip as she turned to walk away.
“Sit!”
“But—”
It was too late; Joline pushed her into a seat and poured a ladle filled with stew into the bowl that awaited her. It smelled great! Her tummy growled, and she shoveled a spoonful in her mouth. “Happy,” she said with her mouth full.
Joline’s long face was warm, round-eyed, flat-nosed and unaffected by her appearance. Kam gave her surroundings further study as she added another mouthful. The kitchen was tidy, and Joline’s apron didn’t have a speck of food on it. How does she do it? She had known the cook for many years now, and she knew her quite well. Joline didn’t say much, always focused on serving food, but Kam knew it was time to listen. It wasn’t something she was good at.
“I’ve never seen you so crossed up about a man before, Kam, or anything else for that matter,” Joline said, adding some more spice to her breakfast stew.
Kam took in another spoonful, tasting the potatoes, bacon, and vegetables, all mixed into one, along with something else. The Muckle Sap was taking effect, making her appetite seem to increase with every bite. She began to feel stronger. Her mind eased, but she was itching to dig into something else now.
“It's wonderful, Joline, as always.”
“You need a clear head! You’ve been sulking over that brute for weeks. He’s only a man; you know you can’t count on them for long. Heck, he even left his children with you.”
Kam let out a laugh. The thought of Venir having children, a halfling at that, was amusing.
“Now listen to me, Girlie. You have your pick in this city. Men are always courting you. You’re even a Royal. You just don’t act like one. Get over that big man.”
The woman’s matter-of-fact words brought a frown to Kam's face. Her eyes began to tear up.
Joline’s eyes widened, and she rushed over to her side and wiped Kam's eyes with her apron. Joline started rubbing her hand around in circles on Kam's back.
“There, there, I'm sorry, Kam. Don’t get me wrong. That man, Venir, he’s a good one. He cares for you, those boys too. He’s one of those cut from the better bones of Bish. But Kam, that man’s eyes—as blue as they may be—behind them is a fiery inferno. You get too close …”
Joline's kindness opened the dam, and the tears started streaming down Kam's face. She had never felt so confused, lonely and desperate. Nothing had really changed since he came or since he left. It was all the same, except for the boys. Georgio and Lefty brought her nothing but joy … and the reminder of Venir. He treated her better than any other man ever had, listening, touching, caressing … he had even bought her a gift. She rubbed the tiny ruby earring on her lobe. Men didn’t often treat women like that, not the way he did.
Kam blew her nose in Joline's apron and said, “I’ve never known anyone like him. The first time I saw him, he swept me off my feet in a river of blood and was gone. I missed him, but I got over it, a passing fling. But when he came back this time Joline, I felt something like I've never felt before. It was happiness. The man’s hard as a rock and stubborn as a goat, but the sound of his voice … his presence … made me happy.” She started sobbing again. She couldn’t control it, and that embarrassed her.
Joline hugged her, rocking her like her mother used to. It was comforting. Then she felt a hand patting her back. It was soothing as well, and tiny. Something was wrong.
“Joline …” she said, slipping out of the woman’s embrace. “Were you just patting my back?”
“No.”
Both of the women started looking around.
“Are you sure?”
Joline shrugged, looking all over.
Kam had a funny feeling, and for the moment she forgot all of her troubles. There was pounding out front, coming from of the Magi Roost entrance. It was early for customers, but they would be open soon enough. It was probably just the City Watch. They often gave her updates on any unruly customers they had locked away. There had been several incidents lately. People had been edgy.
“Joline, will you go ahead and open up?”
“Sure, Dear,” the woman said, walking away with a concerned look at Kam.
Kam started to look around again; she swore she felt something on her back. She got up, spinning around slowly and looking up and down. When she turned back around, her bowl of stew was gone. What in the world?
The kitchen wasn’t very large, so whatever was going on wouldn’t be easy to hide. Her head wasn’t very clear, either, from the Muckle Sap. She walked around the kitchen, beginning to think she should have just stayed in bed. When she got back to where she had been a moment earlier, her bowl was there … empty.
“What!?”
She heard a small giggling voice close by.
“Lefty, where are you?”
A tiny finger was tapping her on the shoulder. She whirled around only to see Lefty’s tiny face, eye to eye with her, standing on a table.
“Good morning, Kam. Did I fool you?”
“Yes, you little booger,” she said, lifting him into the air. Lefty was as light as a baby, and she couldn’t resist tickling him.
“Ew … stop it Kam … that tickles … hahahahaha …”
Lefty twisted away, disappearing into a cupboard.
“Morning, Kam. Can I have breakfast stew? I’m starving!”
It was Georgio, rubbing his pudgy belly, shirtless, with his trousers on, held up by his suspenders.
“Not if you don’t get some clothes on. What did I tell you about that?”
/> “But, I am really hungry, Kam! Just a bite … pleeeeease!”
She re-filled the bowl and handed it to him. “Take it to your room, eat it, get dressed, and bring the bowl back down.”
Georgio was filling his face saying, “Mmm … all right.”
“Go Georgio!”
He tilted the bowl up to his nose, swallowed the whole thing down, and handed Kam the empty bowl. She was ready to pull every lock of curly brown hair from his head.
“Buuh-urp!”
Lefty was having a giggling fit inside the cabinet.
“Can I have some water, plea—”
“Get out!” she said, shaking the room.
Georgio was gone, and only an empty cupboard remained. Kam’s feelings for Venir began to take a turn.
“Men!”
Chapter 6
The egg vanished. The branch that held Venir withered and gave way under his weight. Emptiness filled him, and then he was plummeting downward, screaming while the underlings cackled somewhere above. Venir free-fell about thirty feet and then banged into the hillside, almost blacking out. His fingers clawed at the jagged edges of the hill, rock and dirt cutting into his hands. His feet were kicking, arms flailing, but nothing he touched slowed his fall. He barreled down the hill like a stone, sliding faster and farther toward the rugged ground below.
“Bone!” he cried, but it didn’t help. The bottom still neared.
He stopped for a moment, clinging to the face of the hill, clutching at a small finger hold. He pinched at a rock, struggling to pull himself up. His booted feet dug into the hill. His shoulders heaved from the effort to hang on. He could feel the underlings coming now. He peered upward. The branch he had fallen from was a hundred feet above, little more than a withered branch, not what he had seen before. Brool was abandoned up there! The underlings were closing in. He could feel their hatred, confidence, and excitement. He growled from the effort to pull himself up, but there was nowhere to go. He looked over his back, realizing it would be easier to climb down.
The Darkslayer: Book 03 - Underling Revenge Page 3
