The Darkslayer: Book 05 - Outrage in the Outlands Read online

“What if they got him already?”

  Billip’s lips twitched as he popped his knuckles.

  “We wait. Those fools over there are just creating a panic. I’d say there’s only ten at most out there, if that.”

  Velvet glided back into her seat, trembling, and draped her arms around Georgio.

  “Will you protect me?”

  He could feel her shivering. Her painted eyes were full of fear. His heart began to swell.

  “Sure. I’ve killed underlings before. Just stay close to me,” he said, running his arm across her back.

  Billip shook his head as the room behind him began to clear out. Velvet’s arms tightened around Georgio's neck as the screaming in the streets began to rise. Something was going on out there. Something bad. Something evil.

  That’s when Sam the Barkeep spoke up.

  “Everyone out!”

  His usual expressionless countenance now unfurled as he took rapid puffs on his cigar.

  The few who remained didn’t waste any time heading out the door. Sam stormed over to the table, smacking his club in his hand.

  “It’s time to get your arses out of here, too. My tavern’s closed.”

  Billip said, “But we’ve already paid for our room.”

  Sam cracked his club on the table.

  “Tough!”

  CHAPTER 20

  “You try anything and I’ll scream,” Kam said as Diller shoved her towards the tub. “I don’t think Palos would be too happy with you accosting me. You saw what happened to Thorn.”

  Diller shoved her hard to the floor. She kicked at his knee. He slipped past and swatted her hard in the back of the head. His calloused hands were strong. He grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her kicking across the floor. One again, she was powerless in the quick and deadly hands of one of Palo’s top men. Still, she managed to bite his hand and wriggle free.

  “Ahhhh!” He said, wincing. “You keep struggling, and I’ll see the little baby starved, you spoiled wench.”

  Kam froze, chest heavy beneath her robes as she drew her legs up to her chin.

  “You leave my daughter alone.”

  She smacked her in the face, drawing more blood in her mouth.

  “That’s the plan, Princess.”

  Kam fell silent. Numb inside. Her courage dissipated as quickly as it had started. There was nothing she could do. Diller reached down, fetid breath on her neck, groping her body while tying her to the legs of the tub with the absidium chains.

  “You sick, wretched pervert. Wait until—”

  “Until what? You go ahead and tell Palos.” He kneeled down in front of her, elbow relaxed on his knee, toothpick rolling back and forth in his mouth. “Princess, you’ll be begging to have me once Palos is through with you.”

  Her green eyes lit up at the matter-of-factness of his statement.

  “Ah … that’s right. I hope you don’t think you’re the one and only pretty thing he’s ever drug down here. You certainly aren’t the first Royal, and you won’t be the last.”

  She swallowed hard and slunk back.

  “Yes,” he brushed the back of his palm against her cheek. “It’s only a matter of time. No woman can ever satisfy a man like that for long.” He laughed, a mocking one. “Then you’ll certainly be mine … or Thorn's. Ah … there will be suitors aplenty to bid on you, my dear. But you better hope it ends up being me.”

  He grabbed her chin. She jerked it away.

  “Never,” she said with trembling breath.

  His knees cracked as he rose to his full height and leered down on her.

  “I’m a patient man,” he said, walking away, dusting off his hands. “You’ll be mine, and fortunate for you, I’m much easier to satisfy than him.” He gave her a lusty look over his shoulder. “And I’m sure I’ll satisfy you as well, not that it will matter.”

  Kam fell into a fit of tears as soon as he closed the door.

  ***

  This is my fault. My fault. My fault.

  Lefty gently banged his head over into the clawed foot of the tub.

  My fault!

  He hit it once more, harder this time. It hurt, but it didn’t ache near as much as his heart, which was slipping inside his chest as Kam’s sobs became deafening. He wanted to reach out. Touch her. Comfort her. Say how sorry he was, but he couldn’t. The truth was, he was too scared. If anyone deserved to die, it was him. And if anyone reserved the right to kill him, it was her.

  My fault!

  He struck his head once more. Perhaps I can spare her the effort.

  “Stop doing that,” Kam managed from beneath her sobs.

  Huddled under the tub, he tilted his head back.

  “Don’t!” she said, her voice stronger, regaining its fiery luster. “I might have use for that little head, after all.”

  Lefty sucked up the courage to look up into her eyes.

  Tears filled his eyes. Kam, still as beautiful as the first day he saw her, was misaligned. Her glorious auburn hair was a tangled mess, and her high cheek bones were now bruised. A split lip accompanied the dark circles under her eyes, and her polished nails were chipped and chewed. She was a lovely white dove now covered in soot and grime. Her robe barely covered her skinned up features and none of her shame. She’d been through something. Something bad. All because of him.

  “Stop crying, you little bastard. I’ve cried enough for all of your years and mine put together.”

  “K-Kam … I’m sorry,” he sobbed, wiping his runny nose. “I didn’t …” Tears streaming into his face, he curled up into a ball.

  She rankled her chains.

  “I said no more crying, Lefty! Now get up.”

  He didn’t move. He just lay there trembling like a frightened bunny.

  Kam leaned back against the tub, pulled her legs under her hips, and tried to make herself more comfortable. She blew the locks of hair from her eyes. I must look horrible. I am horrible. And now she’d terrified a boy, or at least someone who looked like a boy, but was certainly much older. She wasn’t even sure how long halflings lived, and she had no idea how old Lefty actually was. But he was helpless. Far more helpless than her, or so it seemed at the moment.

  All men, no matter how big or how small, are trouble.

  Lefty. His haggard little face told it all. He was exhausted, weary, over-run by the dangerous life that one can easily encounter in Bish, especially when you’re not careful. That must have been what happened to him. Or, maybe he was just trying to deceive her once more. That grin. The one he’d shown earlier, when Gillem was around. The face stuck with her, leaving an unfavorable impression. But at this point, what did they have to gain from her? Was Lefty spying on her? Why not let Diller do that? It seemed odd that they’d just leave him here with her. What else would they want from her?

  She scooted over, stretched out her leg, and pushed him with her toe.

  “Stop crying, you little sot.”

  He kept on. She shoved him again.

  “I’m miserable enough already, so don’t make it worse. Now tell me something. You owe me at least that much. Have you seen Erin?”

  His trembling stopped as he pulled himself to his knees. Tears dripping from his tiny face to the floor, he nodded.

  “I’m s-s-s-soooo sorry! I know it’s all … all my fault.”

  The next question was the hardest for her, but she had to ask it.

  “Is she alive?”

  Her heart stopped as she watched him gulp and take a breath.

  “I’m certain of it.”

  Kam gasped. She would have hugged him if she could.

  “Do you know where she is?”

  “I do, Kam. It was the first thing I did, finding that out. Kam, I swear I was trying to think of a way out of this. I really was,” he pleaded. “But they killed Gillem.” His eyes watered again. “And I was scared they'd kill me and you and Erin. They all lied to me, Kam. They tricked me. The kidnapping. Everything. I never, ever would do anything to hurt you or anyone.
I really wouldn’t. But, I – I just didn’t have a choice. Palos … he’s so mean and cruel and scary.” He dragged his sleeve across his wet face. “He killed Gillem for no reason at all. I’ve seen him kill other men, too. And he keeps the dead bodies in the lake. Gillem showed it to me. Told me that was where I'd live, at the bottom of the lake. I've seen them all dead. Skin hanging off of them. It’s horrifying. Terrible. I didn’t want to be drowned and staring forever up at the living. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry! I just—”

  Kam nudged him with her foot and tried to sound reassuring.

  “That’s enough, Lefty. I’m starting to understand.”

  Lefty was always a jittery little man, a victim of seeing things that were awfully horrible. She actually was beginning to understand. If she were a little girl in the same situation, what would she have done? No. I would have made the right choice. He made the wrong one. You’re better off dying for the right reasons than living for the wrong ones. That’s what her mother taught her anyway, and she remembered passing that along to him and Georgio a time or two. The question now was, could she trust him again?

  “Do you think Erin is well?”

  He shrugged his small shoulders and said, “I think so. That old woman, she’s not so bad, at least not compared to the rest of them. Just ugly is all.”

  It gave Kam little relief, but it was better than nothing.

  “Well, you’re a thief now, right? Can’t you undo these bonds?”

  “I’ve tried. This absidium is really tough, like living wire. Master Gillem could have undone it, but I haven’t figured out how yet.”

  Kam winced as she fought the chains that bound up her wrists. The more you wriggled, the more they bit. It was strange that the metal wasn’t magic, but it sure did act like it, and Lefty was bound up worse than her. Still, she noticed he could wiggle his fingers and toes. It gave her an idea.

  “Do you think you can cast a spell?” she asked.

  “I think, but can’t you?”

  “No, this choker prevents that. If I try, it will kill me.”

  His blue eyes lit up.

  “Maybe I can help. If you lie down, maybe I can get it off.”

  “No, only magic can unseal it.”

  “But I don’t know any spells. And I haven’t practiced in a long time.”

  “True, but I can give you the words, and maybe you can harness the power.”

  He nodded. “Let’s try.”

  She looked over at the doors. If Palos or Diller stepped in, it would be all over.

  Better try something small.

  “Lefty, repeat after me.”

  She started speaking in a slow and rhythmic series of syllables, very quiet, very easy. Lefty's lips followed her, uttering everything as if she spoke it herself. She chanted faster now, repeating the same phrases over and over.

  “Urk!”

  The choker around her neck seized up like a python, turning her face red as she kicked and reeled on the floor.

  “Kam! Kam!” Lefty shrieked, stretching his fingers out to save her.

  The choker was like a living snake around her neck, insidious and in control. All she could do was think of Erin and never seeing her baby’s face again. No! No! The choker released her. Whatever little bit of magic she’d summoned fled her just in time. Now, she lay on the floor gasping, sucking for air.

  “I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!”

  It took more than a minute before she recovered herself. She looked over at Lefty and said, “Lefty, don’t worry about me. If you can do anything, save Erin. Escape and free her.”

  “I have to help you, too. If I take her, they might kill you,” he said with such a sad look in his eyes she felt like she was dead already.

  “That’s my choice, not yours. If I can’t save her, then you are the only one who can. It’s the only way you can make things right with me.”

  “But Kam—”

  “Promise me, Lefty!”

  He nodded his head.

  “I promise.”

  She sat there and let her fate sink in. Palos had her. Without her magic, she was nothing. Just an ordinary woman turned into a madman’s whore.

  Lefty started retching.

  She ignored it. Whatever could possibly be wrong now didn’t even matter. Bish.

  CHAPTER 21

  Galloping on horseback, Venir swept Brool into the nearest underling's chest and shattered another’s teeth on his shield. All around him was chaos. The underlings were fleeing. A screeching black army scurrying as fast as they could into their dark little holes. Venir hewed them down, one by one, preventing the escape of all he could. Left and right, they fell under his swath of destruction. He was a black knight filling a moat with their blood.

  Kill them! Kill them all! The helm urged him on.

  His hatred pushed him further.

  Horses, dozens of them, spears and lance tips lowered to the ground, ran over and through one underling after the other. The Royal Riders, the stoutest cavalry in the world of Bish, had the underlings undone. The underling army fragmented. Spiders, underlings, Juegen and magi fled, bled and died. Their bones, guts and entire camp were trampled into the dust.

  A desperate underling, fleeing for its life, sent a spear into the rump of Venir’s horse. He cried out as the horse bucked and sent him careening to the ground. The underlings, the closest ones that still lived, piled on him, tearing at him, their bright eyes wild for his destruction.

  Venir’s arms and shoulders ached, and his wounded hand felt like it was on fire. Exhausted, he struck onward, upward, downward, until his arms gave out. His wounds many, he pressed on.

  Fight! Fight! Fight! The helm urged.

  He couldn’t go on much longer.

  CHOP!

  The last underling fell beneath the weight of his axe, its arm dangling from its shoulder. Laboring for breath, he fell to his knees. He checked his surroundings Every last one was dead or fled.

  “Finally,” he huffed. Brool was sticky and bloody in his grip as he slipped his blood-soaked hand from the shaft and reached for his canteen. It was no longer there. Bone.

  It was a macabre scene the likes of which he’d never seen before. Dead underlings in their dark mail armor lay baking in the suns. Stout men had fallen to weapons, and others' skin had been sizzled or melted off by powerful magic. Over-sized spider legs were twitching, and webs were scattered everywhere.

  Someone stepped into his sunlight and tossed something on the ground before him. A canteen.

  “You owe me a horse,” a strong and familiar voice said.

  Venir looked up. It was the Commander of the Royal Riders, coated in dirt and blood, leaning over the neck of his horse, a meek but broad smile showing.

  Venir grabbed the canteen and gulped down every last drop.

  “And some water too, it seems,” he said, rising on shaking feet. Then a thought jarred his aching head. “Adanna!”

  “Who?” the commander asked.

  “Can you begin a search? Two women were taken and possibly a man as well.”

  The Commander shook his head and said, “I’m telling you, underlings don’t take prisoners, but I’ll see what I can do." He turned in his saddle. "Men, begin a search. Two women and one male survivor!”

  Venir walked a few steps away. He need to search as well.

  “You can at least give me my canteen back. I’m sure you can pluck a good one from the dead. Huh, I hope that broad back of yours can use a shovel as well as it swings that axe, Stranger. We’ve got many good men to bury.”

  Walking away, Venir tossed the man up the canteen. “And many enemies to burn as well.”

  The underling camp was a small city filled with rows of dark grey tents that no longer stood. Venir limped to the nearest collapsed tent and lifted it up. A bunch of small black spiders scurried out, and he stomped them into the ground. He had an uncanny feeling. Underlings setting up camps like men. It wasn’t normal, not above ground that is, at least in his lifetime anyw
ay.

  Searching one disheveled tent after the other, he cursed his luck. And, as far as he could tell, the Royal Riders weren’t doing their best to look, either. Instead, they sat tending the wounded and catching their breath. Another hour passed, and Venir had covered little ground. His temper and vitality were wearing thin as he limped from one tent to the other. Blast, there’s so many.

  It was beginning to feel like a lost cause. The underlings didn’t often take prisoners, but when they did, they usually weren’t heard from again. As the first sun sunk down over the horizon, the likelihood that his friends survived darkened as well. He hoisted up the heavy canvas of the tents, one after the other, his wounds festering and burning. His leg was so stiff he could hardly walk, and the insides of his cheeks stung from where he'd bitten them in battle. He pulled off his helm. The throbbing in his head subsided, but he groaned as the other aches and pains intensified. He eased himself to the ground as exhaustion quickly settled into his bones. He just wanted to sleep. He closed his eyes.

  “Warrior!”

  The voice sounded like an explosion in his ear and made his entire body flinch on the ground. Everything hurt. It even hurt when he blinked. He rose into a sitting position and looked up at the sky. It was dusk, with little more than a few minutes of daylight remaining.

  He found the commander's face. “What?”

  “Better come with me. I think we’ve found who you’re looking for,” he said in a somber tone.

  With the help of a strong armed soldier, Venir made it to his feet and followed the man, who was still riding his horse. The commander led him alongside a deep pit that was too dark to see inside. The smell of death and decay filtered up through it. Another bottomless pit opened up, this one in Venir’s stomach, and that old guilty feeling rose its ugly head. All his friends were better off without him.

  The commander slid from his saddle at his side, stroked his mustache, and said, “There’s more of them. Not as deep, but the bodies were many. No women, though. This is the last one we found.” He motioned toward a dog-sized sand spider that lay dead on its back, a pair of spears shoved through it. “That thing was crawling out when we got here. Its belly’s full.” The man spat. “I’ve seen plenty of them spiders in my day, but not so many nor so big all at once.”