Midnight Monster Club

by Gerhard Gehrke

  The applause quickly died down when a distant door creaked open. The gallery lights dimmed to near black as lanterns approached the opposite side of the board. The prisoner next to Digger peered out to see.

  Digger nudged him. “Stay put.”

  He collected his rocks and strained his ears.

  Three contestants were speaking in hushed tones. They sounded young.

  “The sign says ‘Black bishop’s crossing.’”

  “I don’t see anyone here.”

  “That’s because they’re hiding. It’s an ambush, stupid.”

  Their conversation fell to a low murmur.

  “Get on with it!” a spectator jeered, but he was hissed at and shushed.

  “It’s a draughts board.”

  “Bishop’s crossing? I thought we were facing a nymph, not clergy.” The contestant chuckled at his own joke. “Let’s go.”

  Digger couldn’t follow what happened next, but there was a click, a snap, a hiss, and a wet smack in quick succession. Then came a howl of pain.

  “Ah! Ah! Ah! I’m hit! I’m bleeding!”

  A general commotion from the adventurers made it hard to follow what they were saying. But one of them was hurt. Digger clutched his rocks and strained his ears. Timing would be everything if he wanted to beat them.

  “It’s just a dart,” one of the adventurers said. “Let me help.”

  “No! Don’t pull it out! Stop!”

  “Calm down.” Digger recognized Lord Angel’s voice. “It’s not checkers, it’s chess. He triggered the trap by stepping on white. Try staying on the black. Jamie, you stay behind me.”

  The wounded adventurer let out a pained laugh. “Why don’t you go first?”

  “Hector, Gavin. Step only on the black squares along the diagonal.”

  Footsteps were coming closer across the game board. Digger rose and spotted two of Angel’s companions stepping from black square to black square as the rest of the party of contestants watched from the opposite side.

  One of the adventurers pointed at Digger. “There! One of the monsters!”

  Digger chucked the first rock. It barely missed the closest man. The second hit him in the chest and caused him to stumble. The floor clicked. A dart flew out of the nearest wall and struck his arm. He screamed, sidestepped, and triggered another dart. It struck his ear. He stumbled and fell back, and two more darts hit him as he dove off the far side of the board.

  Blade out, the second companion had come leaping towards Digger and was almost across. Digger threw his third rock. The swordsman deflected it with the guard of his rapier. The man would be on Digger in an instant. It was either grab another rock or pick up his weapon.

  As he reached for the whale bone, Paulus sprang up and threw his own rock, nailing the companion on the head. Blood poured from the man’s forehead as he hesitated. Digger approached the contestant only to stop in his tracks as the man slashed wildly.

  Lord Angel sounded furious. “You young lords want your tokens? He has them. Attack!”

  Marisol drew her foil and a thin dirk in her left hand before leading the charge. Two of the others began jumping squares and passing her by. They held short swords and wore bright green masks that covered their eyes.

  The game caller resumed his narrative. “The defenders have revealed themselves! These are no love-mad slaves of the nymph but her personal body servants. Trained. Lethal. Beast men whose minds have been twisted after years of service. These know the catacombs and will die defending its innermost mysteries!”

  “Go monsters!” the heckler from above shouted.

  Digger ignored the renewed clamor from above. The swordsman in front of him wiped blood from his eyes and began to advance on Digger. Another step and he’d be off the grid. Digger charged. His opponent blocked the swinging whale bone but wasn’t prepared for Digger throwing his full weight into him. They collided with a thud and went tumbling onto the board. Squares sank and clicked beneath them.

  Darts hissed and flew overhead. The whale bone slipped from Digger’s grip, but his opponent’s sword was also knocked away as they grappled.

  The contestant closest to them screamed as darts hit him. He dropped his rapier and tore the darts away. He stumbled back and retreated, almost colliding with Marisol, who shoved him aside.

  The man next to Digger tried to stand, hands and feet on the black tiles. Digger sprang up, feet planted on two black squares. Marisol and the others were closing in.

  Where were the other monsters? He didn’t dare look behind him. He had no choice but to retreat. But any advantage the board provided would be lost once the contestants came across.

  He leaped at the closest adventurer. They collided and Digger smashed his skull into the man’s face. Something crunched. Blood sprayed and teeth click-click-clicked across the game board as they tumbled to the floor.

  Darts went zipping everywhere. Some tinked on stone and others struck the wood facades of the cave. More of the oncoming contestants were hit. Marisol had ducked to the floor nearby.

  The man beneath Digger squirmed until Digger landed a series of quick, savage punches. The contestant went limp. Digger thrust him aside and reached for the only weapon close to him. The broken whale bone.

  Marisol was the only contestant on the board not struggling to pull darts from her body. She crawled a few squares closer and paused as she pressed down on a white square. It clicked but no darts flew.

  “Angel!” she cried. “Everyone! Come on! The darts are empty!”

  Digger rose and hefted the club and began to retreat.

  Angel, Marisol, and over a half-dozen armed purebloods were coming for him, and now there was nothing standing in their way.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  DIGGER HAD BACKED AWAY almost to his stalagmite hiding place as the humans grouped together and cautiously crossed the checkered floor. Most of those who had been struck by the darts were coming too, as the missiles had not done more than superficial damage.

  The shock of the trap was gone. Digger had earned their wrath.

  Angel was content to allow the others to precede him, but he continued to hold one of his fellow players back. Marisol had risen and again advanced ahead of the others, her two blades out to either side, her face all business.

  “Paulus,” Digger hissed. “They’re coming.”

  The opportunity to hem the contestants in on the boards was lost. Now they’d be facing superior numbers among the decorative stones and frescos of the chamber of secrets.

  The game caller spoke. “The nymph’s twisted game table barely challenged our group of fortune hunters. Only a lone defender stands in their way...”

  Marisol hesitated once she was off the board. She scanned the ground and the rocks and set her foot tentatively forward.

  Digger reached his hiding place. Two of the fel were still taking cover. Digger didn’t look at them. Instead he beckoned Marisol forward.

  As she advanced, one of Angel’s companions passed her by. He still had a dart dangling from his arm. He charged at Digger, chopping the air with his rapier. But his movements were sluggish. Digger easily avoided the attack. The man was panting heavily, his teeth clenched. His footwork was sloppy. Digger blocked a thrust and stomped on the man’s foot. The companion howled.

  But before Digger could press his advantage, the other fel burst from their hiding places. One smashed the companion with his oversized blade and proceeded to beat him senseless.

  Two more of his fellow monsters went for Marisol but were stopped short as she expertly parried both in a flurry of motion. Paulus stormed towards her and threw his last rock. It smacked her in the head and she fell. But before any of them could finish her off, the rest of the contestants came charging at them.

  A few of the waiting fel shouted and bellowed. One of them who appeared to have drank more than his share beat his oversized blade against a nearby fake rock. The display of bluster caused the oncoming purebloods to pause. Angel pulled Marisol to her fe
et and hauled her back.

  The gallery above filled with whispers.

  “That’s it for tricks,” Angel said. “There’s as many of us as them. And none of them knows how to fight.”

  The group of adventurers hesitated. The pureblood Angel had been protecting tried to move forward but Angel caught his arm and hissed for him to wait.

  “Come on, you pansies!” the heckler called.

  “Why didn’t you attack?” Digger whispered to Paulus. “We had them bottled up.”

  “No one wants to be first to die. Plus, with all the tokens in your pocket, I thought you’d make a good distraction.”

  The two lines of combatants waited for someone to make a move. Then one of the contestants who had been struck by a dart wavered. Another stepped back and vomited.

  “The stings of the trap begin to leave their mark!” the game caller announced. “What poisons course through the veins of our adventurers?”

  The contestant who had puked looked up at the gallery. “What did you do to us?” He wobbled and had to be steadied by another.

  “Now!” Digger shouted.

  He swung his whale bone and connected with a poorly timed parry, knocking a swordsman’s rapier away. He then smashed the club across the man’s hand and wrist. Bones popped. The man cried out and stumbled aside. Digger didn’t follow but switched targets, shoulder-checking a wobbling contestant who wasn’t able to bring his sword up in time. The man went down with a blow from Digger’s club.

  The rest of the fel charged.

  Paulus smashed a rapier aside with his oversized weapon. But his opponent was fast and soon they were sparring. Fel and men shouted and cursed as they collided.

  Digger caught a pommel across the brow. It was the young man Angel had been holding back. But the new opponent wasn’t fast enough to get away as Digger caught a sleeve and brought his club down across the young man’s back.

  They separated.

  “Jamie, get behind me, you fool,” Angel ordered.

  He and Marisol were fighting side by side. Two fel lay at their feet, both writhing and bleeding. Another tried to parry Angel’s sword and strike at him, but as the nobleman stepped away, Marisol lunged and stabbed the fel’s arm with her foil. Lightning fast, her dirk followed, piercing the fel’s chest. He screamed and reeled but she delivered a series of quick stabs before he could escape. The fel tumbled to the floor.

  Panting hard, Digger faced Jamie.

  “You’re Isabel’s lover.”

  Confusion crossed the young man’s face. “You...know her?”

  “We’re friends. You shouldn’t be in here. You're going to get yourself killed.”

  Jamie was panting hard. He glanced towards his brother.

  Digger saw the hesitation. Knew there wasn’t any more time to waste. He smashed the butt of his club into Jamie’s chest and followed it up with a wide swing that caught the man across the brow. Jamie went down and Digger backed away.

  Meanwhile Angel, Marisol, and two of the remaining contestants were facing Paulus and the four last fel. One of the fel attacked.

  Angel got under his guard and stabbed him. The fel cried out and backed away, dropping his weapon and clutching his bleeding abdomen. The other two contestants with Angel were light on their feet and wary. Marisol lunged forward, slapping at weapons with her dirk and thrusting her foil. She was a flurry of motion. Angel and the others followed. The fel retreated.

  “Could use your help!” Paulus said.

  One of the wobbly adventurers had gotten back up to face Digger. He was blinking rapidly as if trying to clear his eyes. But his rapier was steady and every time Digger moved, the man thrusted his weapon at him.

  “Busy,” Digger grumbled.

  From above, the game caller purred. “The adventurers rally. The nymph’s minions begin to fall back. Will they let their mistress down? Will these invaders find their way to her treasure chamber?”

  Lowering the tip of his club, Digger baited his opponent, trying to get him to commit to an attack that might throw his balance off. The man kept his eyes locked on Digger’s and didn’t fall for it.

  Digger took a step back, reached into his pocket, and threw the five tokens out on the floor. “That’s enough for one of your prizes. Take them with your life. It’s that or I beat your brains in.”

  The heckler guffawed and clapped, the lone spectator to do so.

  Digger took a step back over one of the fallen contestants. The swordsman facing him bent to pick up the tokens. Boos erupted above them. Digger snatched the token from the collar of the fallen man at his feet.

  “Hah!” Marisol shouted as she launched a fresh assault and caught one of the retreating fel. Angel dodged a clumsy blow and struck another one down. The other two contestants were closing in on Paulus and the last pair of prisoners. They were backed up against the portcullis with nowhere to go.

  With his opponent distracted, Digger advanced towards Angel.

  The nobleman turned to face him. “You wanted me down here. I’m here.”

  Marisol almost got past Paulus’s defenses as the older fel swung clumsily at her. The heavy weapons were taking their toll. Exhaustion was setting in.

  Digger paused. He motioned for Angel to come at him. When he didn’t, Digger bent down next to one of the dart-struck contestants. The man lay prone and was gasping as if having a hard time breathing. Digger jerked him to his feet.

  Angel swirled his blade in the air. “Stop wasting my time.”

  “Free my friend. You get the page. You walk out of here with your life.”

  “I let him go already. I have you now.”

  “I don’t believe you. We still have your companions.”

  Angel spread his arms. “Where does that leave us then?”

  “Me taking that sword from you and breaking your neck. But him first.” Digger shook the man, who moaned and gagged.

  “Do what you want with him. I don’t know him. But this can go easy for you. Hard for your friend, though. I’ll still get what I want.”

  Digger pressed the edge of the club against his captive’s throat. Squeezed. Heard the man start to choke and felt him shudder.

  From the gallery a woman shouted, “Let him go!”

  Digger glanced up at the shrouded audience but couldn’t see who was speaking. He shook the man in his grip. “He came for our blood. Why should I?”

  The crowd was silent but for the lone woman. “He’s down. Let him live and I’ll pay out your freedom.”

  “That’s not the rules,” the game caller said.

  “I don’t care! He surrenders. Lord Gomez’s son surrenders. Have mercy, I beg you!”

  Digger hesitated. “How does that work?”

  “It doesn’t,” Angel said. He ran Digger’s prisoner through. The man screamed and crumpled to the gasps of the audience.

  Digger released the man and barely blocked a sword thrust. He fumbled with his own off-balance club as Angel chopped it hard. Another blow struck the club and it broke. Digger pulled the fallen man away and snatched one of the darts from his shoulder. Angel pressed his attack, his rapier probing as Digger continued to back up. But then Digger stopped and heaved the dying man at Angel, catching him off guard. As Angel tried to dodge, Digger leaped at him. They collided. Digger jabbed Angel in the arm with the dart and tried to get an arm around the nobleman’s neck.

  Angel slammed the pommel against Digger’s head repeatedly. They clung to each other, Digger squeezing and clawing but unable to protect his head from the hammer blows. He could only hope whatever drug coated the dart’s tip was still present.

  The crying woman in the gallery was drowned out by the crowd’s renewed cheers. The other sounds in the chamber became a blur. Crashes. Shouts. The caller was saying something. But Digger could only hear his own bellows of rage as he twisted and broke the dart in Angel’s arm.

  Angel was howling and finally his blows weakened. Digger felt dizzy. Blood and sweat stung his eyes. But as he tried
to rise, Angel caught him in the side with a small knife. The blow was weak but the sharp blade pierced his shirt and flesh. Digger smashed the knife hand against the floor. The knife tumbled. Angel scrambled away. Digger’s own strength began to ebb as he fought to rise. He found Angel’s dropped sword.

  But Angel was standing now too. He began limping away.

  Digger knew he was about to drop. It took all of his concentration to keep the blade from slipping from his grip as he headed for the portcullis.

  Paulus was the only fel still standing. Marisol was leaning on a nearby wall with a hand pressed against her ribs. She had blood on her lips and was breathing hard but still held her sword. Digger warily stepped past her.

  “Finish it!” the heckler called.

  More jeers and shouts punctuated the taunt. But Marisol limped away and helped Angel to sit on one of the fake rocks.

  Paulus was working tokens free from the two fallen men at his feet. Somehow he had exchanged his own game weapon for a real short sword. Next he relieved the tokens from the dead fel.

  He raised his head towards the gallery. “I want...I want to buy freedom.”

  “The round isn’t finished,” the game caller announced.

  “What have you got left?” Digger whispered to Paulus.

  Paulus shook his head. “Not much.”

  Digger examined the portcullis. The lights had once again adjusted and the alcove was well illuminated. The grating appeared heavy, but he tried to lift it. It didn’t budge. But then he noticed a polished brass plate with a slot. He put his hand to the medallion around his neck.

  “Are they supposed to be doing that?” someone in the gallery asked.

  Digger tugged the chain around his neck free and untied the medallion. It fit perfectly in the slot. He dropped it in.

  The game caller announced, “The nymph’s slaves and the adventurers fought each other to a standstill.”