The Darkslayer: Book 03 - Underling Revenge Page 24

  “Sis and Frigdah already took some money from your purse. They said to tell you they lost a lot betting on you, and that you’d better understand. The rest is all there.”

  Melegal could feel the bulge in his pocket. There wasn’t much left, as he had bet a lot on himself, too. Now he was broke and vanquished from his brothel stoop. He was no longer wanted in the Drunken Octopus. That message was clear. He wasn’t ready to go anywhere yet, still, he had another place to go.

  “I’m gonna need some salve for these wounds, too. Do you know where to get some?”

  Haze’s eyes brightened as she stuck her small chest out and said, “I know where to get the best there is.”

  He tossed her his remaining coins and said, “Good, will you get me some?”

  “I’ll be right back,” she said, backing her way to the door. It was clear that she was all too ready to grant him another favor.

  He waved at her as the door closed.

  Good!

  Grabbing his coffee, he reached down and stroked Octopus. The big cat yawned, its eight pearl white claws fanning out before it tucked them back underneath its chest. Melegal wasn’t sure why the cat chose to keep company with him or why he allowed it, but seeing how he was short on friends these days, Octopus was as good as any.

  “Octopus, why did you let that crazy woman in here? Am I going to have to get a dog?”

  The cat rumbled on the table, the hairs on its back rising up.

  “I was just teasing.”

  He sat down at the table and thought as he peered outside the small window. It was pitch black outside, close to midnight he supposed. He had been out awhile and hadn't even felt the woman stitching his face. He recounted the events of the day and tried to determine whether or not the nightmare was real. It felt real, he thought, as he shifted his swollen jaw.

  “How was your day, Octopus?”

  The cat was silent as its chest rose and fell without a worry in the world.

  “I see. How I envy you, feline. Well, let me tell you about mine,” he said, and he stroked the cat's furry pelt. “I woke up in the throes of passion with a succulent servant girl in Castle Almen. It was a promising start, but then I encountered a bastard of a man named Sefron. You would like him even less than I. He’s fat, dirty and slimy, almost like a slug with arms and legs.

  “Then I had the pleasure of meeting Lorda Almen, as picturesque a woman as could be. She bent my ear and told me to locate her son, Tonio. You remember him don’t you?” he said, stroking the yawning cat.

  “Then it was off to Lord Almen’s study. Yes, the man gives me my charges and decides to throttle me before I even get started. He’s dangerous, that one, possibly the most dangerous man I ever met.”

  How did that big man sneak up on me? ME!

  “Ah … so I come back here, oddly enough, to be confronted by a voracious woman, Vorla. It seems my eyes jostled her ginormous son Brak, the supposed son of Venir. You should have seen this boy, fourteen years old and the size of two men. I think Venir would be proud of that one …”

  Venir … if he had been there tonight, things wouldn’t have been so bad. He took another sip and licked the salty scab that was building on his lip.

  “Hmmm … then I get mugged by the City Watch on the Royal Roadway. I track the Motley Girls down into a dingy hole and throttle another guard. Things were actually looking up at that point. Then Haze leads me to the dungeon that houses Tonio.”

  He paused and looked around before he whispered to the cat.

  “Don’t tell anyone this, Octopus, but I romped with the skinny hag and she wasn’t half bad. I almost enjoyed myself. Ahem … anyway, down a dripping stairwell I go. I put out my coin of light, well McKnight’s actually, and there he was … Tonio. That evil bastard is alive! His eyes were as terrifying as anything I ever saw.”

  A candle-lit lamp was flickering nearby, and he got up and closed the window. He shivered and pulled a blanket over his narrow shoulders. “I must be getting old. It’s too hot in this place to be cold.”

  He went back to drinking his coffee and stroking his cat.

  “And now here I am, back in my home, after getting every bit of slat beat out of me.”

  He took another drink and went to lie down on his cot. He closed his aching eyes.

  “Oh Octopus, how many more horrors will tomorrow bring?”

  Chapter 53

  The orcs were chopping at everything moving, and men and women were screaming in the heat of battle. Scorch just stood nearby, watching the carnage with interest. He looked like a mere man, refined like stained glass, dressed in little more than a traveling cloak and common clothes he had created for himself. He was fair-haired and blue-eyed, but not like that of common men, his features were more vivid and colorful.

  A female screamed nearby, catching his attention. A rugged-faced orc was dragging a woman across the ground by her hair and another one was pulling away her clothes. Perhaps this would be an ideal incident to intervene in. He approached the orcs on casual feet, oblivious to the chaos that surrounded him. One of the orcs charged at him, a long blade high in his hand, and stabbed it deep into his bare chest. The blade sunk inches deep before it stopped. It was an uncomfortable feeling for Scorch, at worst.

  The orcen man began to back away, eyes wary and uncertain.

  “Huh … What man is this? He does not bleed!”

  “I’ll make him bleed,” offered another.

  The next orc punched the woman down, her body lying limp at his feet, and then stood up, pulled his sword from his sheath, and charged. “I bet my orcen steel can cut his throat!”

  Scorch pulled the long knife free from his chest. It didn’t seem like anything he had much need for, but given the situation it would do. The orc rushed in, sword slashing at his throat. As the orc's accurate sword thrusts passed right through Scorch, the orc's black eyes were filled with marvel.

  “My sword!” it cried. “It won’t touch him!”

  Scorch took the moment to jam the knife inside of the orc's bewildered head. There was little thrill in it for him. He found the orcs repulsive and annoying. He decided it was time to eliminate them, but resorting to the use of their own violent nature was not his style. No, he would use something a little more sanitary to rid him of the vermin.

  The orc that stabbed him was yelling something loud, and more began coming his way. He disintegrated the one that was yelling with a single thought. The others stopped, their ugly faces filled with fear. One of them exploded, followed by another. Blood and guts went everywhere. He didn’t like that kind of mess, either, but he liked the results. The rest of the bandit orcs were running now, but he managed to disintegrate a few more to smelly ash before they were gone.

  He noticed the blood and guts on his cloak as he looked around. The humans, whose form he had taken, were nowhere to be found. With another thought he changed his clothes, garnering a simpler and plainer set of robes and sandals. He stepped around the wagons and found the humans all huddled together, sobbing, quivering, with most eyes turned away. Why were they afraid of him?

  A man stood there, tall and long-limbed. He held a spear before him, the tip quavering in the air. He said, “Are you here to kill us, too?”

  Scorch felt something else now. He could sense the awe and fear in them. He liked it. He liked it a lot. He felt something else. As effortless as all of the carnage he reaped seemed, still he felt ever so slightly drained. Then he spoke his first words on Bish.

  “No, I’m not here to kill anyone.”

  The man’s voice was shaking when he said, “Well, maybe so, but you seem awfully good at it. Are you a mage?”

  “Something like that. And what are you men?”

  “Just a family of merchants, moving along with a caravan. We were down to our last guards when you showed up.”

  Scorch began to find himself becoming bored. It seemed these people didn’t have a lot to offer. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to learn more about them and their customs.


  “So what do you merchants do?”

  They all had funny looks on their faces now, but they seemed to be warming up to him. Most all of them had begun to stand up.

  “Er … we take supplies to the city, make trade and such? We have wheat and barley?”

  “What city are you taking these items to?”

  “Hohm City.”

  “Well then, I believe I shall accompany you to Hohm City. Is it an interesting place?”

  The man said, “It’s the most interesting place of all, if you ask me.”

  Scorch climbed onto the seat of one of the wagons and said, “How do you drive this thing?”

  Chapter 54

  The smells of the city didn’t sit well with her. Her creation had many things that seemed to be like chaos run amok. It didn’t even seem natural. Her universe, despite its enormity, was clean. The filth created by other worlds was hardly something of notice, if it was even noticed at all. She didn’t recall her own world, in which she originated, as being a place so wrought with filth.

  Trinos did find some things that she enjoyed with her re-established senses that she was becoming accustomed to. Freshly baked food had an effect that was much of a surprise. She sat straight up on a stool at an outdoor eatery, a fresh piece of pie on her plate. It was wonderful. Her mug of tea was good as well. For hours she sat staring at the people that surrounded her. Almost every one of them was course and cold. Most of their garments were in tatters and wrought with grime. The children had little more than a stitch of clothing on, and every little face was tired and dirty. The children came to her begging for coins or scraps of food. The proprietor of the eatery, an older man with a long moustache, stayed busy whisking the children away with a switch.

  A carriage passed her by and stopped farther up the street. Two guards in hauberk armor and open-faced helms came down from their seat. The men were clean, and their armor and uniforms were impeccable. One of them opened up the door, and two women in colorful attire stepped out. A smile crossed the face of Trinos. That was something more along the lines of what she had in mind for her world.

  Urchins rushed toward the women, pleading and crying for anything of value. The elegant women greeted the children with curses that would blush a whore. The sentries beat the urchins back with the horse lash, catching many of them across the backs of their legs, but some on the fronts of their faces. The children wailed as many more men appeared, dressed in uniforms of brown and gray. The City Watch began clearing the street of urchins with methods of their own. All the children cried as they scurried or limped away, depending how injured they were. One of them was knocked out cold and hauled away. The women scolded the City Watch and then continued on to go shop as soon their own children came forth. They were laughing at the urchins, pointing fingers and making unpleasant comments. This was not at all what Trinos had in mind!

  Her world was filled with both good and evil, she knew that, but it wasn’t as easy to watch up close. These beings were her creations, and for some reason she didn’t like seeing them abused. She had gotten involved once already and made quite a scene. Should she do anything now?

  “Sir,” she said, pointing at the Royals, “what can you tell me about those people?”

  The storekeeper jumped to her side and pushed her finger down.

  “What are you doing, Woman? Don’t point! Don’t point at a Royal, or at the City Watch, for that matter. You’ll get us both killed.” The man was nervous; his head was looking around, trying to find any unwanted eyes. It was clear to Trinos that her comments posed some sort of danger. She saw little reason for him to suffer.

  “All right then, just tell me about those women. Are they Royals?”

  She already knew the answer. She had even spent time among them before, but her memory, it seemed, needed refreshing. She felt a great deal of detachment from her creation, like a mother who had lost the purpose of raising a child.

  “All right, just don’t point. A woman like you don’t want to draw too much attention to yerself, especially when you are new to town,” he said, his face blushing.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “Well … y-y-you're beautiful, radiant, of the likes I’ve never seen. I mean, I’ve never given anyone a free meal before, but with you, I cannot say no.”

  “Free meal? You mean, you desired payment.” She paused. “Oh … I see.”

  She had forgotten that she had made a change since she arrived. She had been a wizened old woman, but that hadn't suited her. Instead, she had opted for something else. She had chosen to be striking: platinum-haired with eyes the color of shards of blue ice. The stares she drew stopped people in their tracks. She donned the hood on her garment and let the eatery keeper finish.

  “Anyhow, I can’t figure how you entered into this city without being taken in by the City Watch. A woman like you would be a high prize for the Royals. I can’t help but think that you are in danger.”

  Trinos tightened the strings on her cloak. She noticed the man staring at her figure, his eyes running over her chest and down her legs. She had paid the man little mind before, as distracted as she was by everything else. His heart was racing, and his wanton desires glimmered in his eyes. Still, there was shame within the man, something that pulled him back, something good within.

  “I appreciate your food and the concern. Have you any family?”

  “Yes, er … well no and yes. My wife died not long ago. My sons were killed by the City Watch,” he said with a distant voice.

  Trinos sensed his lust turning into regret all of a sudden. She realized she needed to pay more attention to these things.

  “It’s a hard place, this City of Bone, isn’t it?”

  “I can’t rightly say, I don’t suppose. I’ve never been anywhere else.”

  She reached in her pocket and pulled out a small stone that was almost the size of the nail on her finger. She held it before his eyes and said, “Take it.”

  He snatched it from her hand saying, “Don’t do that in broad daylight. You’ll get killed.” He looked around, but people were too busy to notice. He took a quick glance in his palm and whispered, “A diamond. I’ve never touched one before.”

  “Can I have some more pie and tea?” she said.

  “Lady, you can have all that you want,” he said, scurrying away.

  It felt good, making that man happy. For the rest of the stay she sat, ate, and watched. She came to know the eatery owner as Murad. He filled her ears with everything that he knew, from his childhood on. Through him, Trinos learned that her creation had become more intricate than she ever would have thought. One lone man whose own survival had very little meaning became a very important source for her. The City of Bone needed some changes, and with the simple man’s knowledge, she had a better idea on where to start. It was time to go.

  “Where are you going, Lady?” he said, wringing his hands in a wash rag with a great deal of sadness in his voice.

  “To the castle,” she said, pointing to the white and bronze spires that jutted into the moonlit sky.

  “Will you ever come back for more pie?”

  “No. Fare well.”

  Trinos was walking away now, unhindered by fear or anything else, for that matter. No, it was time that she began to straighten things out. Creating a world was one thing, telling it what to do was another. Behind her, she could hear Murad sobbing as he cried out,

  “But it’s dangerous up there. You need to stay away from those castles and Royals. Once you go in, they’ll never let you out of their sight!”

  Chapter 55

  It didn’t take long for Verbard to return to Oran’s lair. He felt a sense of relief that he hadn’t felt in months as he slumped down into Oran’s massive couch. He was certain he had never appreciated such comfort before, even though he had. His battle against the Darkslayer gave him a new perspective on things.

  He clutched at his chest. The teleportation scroll had taken a lot from him. It sapped h
im into near unconsciousness as he arrived. It was something else his dead brother, Catten, had provided. His brother’s robes, now crumpled in his lap, had more pockets inside them than his own, and he had many. Finding the scroll in the second pocket he searched had been fortunate. One day he would have to take the time to empty the rest of the pockets and find out what else his brother had hidden from him.

  The coolness of the cave was revitalizing. The weeks above in the blazing suns had dried out his bones and covered his hands and face with grit. Even his dust-coated robes, once a brilliant black, looked like nothing more than common garb. He fanned and dusted them off, but found that he didn’t have the energy to continue.

  The burning green and blue candles that outlined the cavern walls added a radiant glow to all of Oran’s ghastly jars. Verbard’s silver eyes took their time as they went from one jar to the other, gazing at the faces of dwarves, men, orcs and others who had all been drowned with expressions of endless horror. He shook his head. Oran had been an ally long ago, but the underling cleric's desires had become different from his own.

  He found himself staring at the pickle-jarred face of a black-bearded dwarf. If only the Darkslayer’s head was in there instead. He still hated the man, as he hated all men, but ten times worse. The trials he had faced in the Underland to prove himself had been harsh, but they were nothing compared to this last adventure. He rolled his brother's eyes in the palm of his hand. The golden orbs still had life in them, but they were cooling. He held them up to his eyes; let them stare him back in his face. He could sense his brother was still there, the pupils almost seemed to dilate in the faint glow of the candles.

  “Brother, we did it; The Darkslayer is vanquished and we can return home,” he said, but his tone was hollow and unconvincing. For some reason, he felt as if he was the one that should not have survived. It was his brother, the planner and tactician, who had spear-headed their quest all along. His brother had talents and powers that he did not, but he had his own special abilities as well, maybe survival was among those. He set Catten's eyes down on a table by the couch. “But first let me take my rest.”