The Darkslayer: Book 02 - Blades in the Night (18 page)

The swarthy McKnight sniffed the wine. “Is this what your were giving the cat? No wonder it left. This wine isn’t fit for a dog. But, bottoms up!”

He hoisted his glass and took a big sip, then wiped his mouth with a filthy handkerchief.


I have bad news to celebrate with you, my old protégé,” McKnight said.

Melegal sat expressionless, heart racing, hands ready, an escape already planned. He couldn’t believe that he was facing a man he was sure he’d killed months ago, yet he was here, alive and well.
How? How? How!
A storm of questions entered his mind. He expected the worst. Had they gotten Quickster? Venir? Lefty? What could it be?


Well, McKnight, whatever news you have, I am sure it couldn’t possibly be worse than the fact you’re are
alive,
” Melegal said, noting that the room’s bustle had picked back up. “But I must admit, I am very curious why you have come back to life just to tell
me
?”

The detective stroked his moustache. “Oh, the smug little rat still has forgotten his manners. After all I have taught you, yet you still show no gratitude. Of course, what could one expect from an urchin anyway? But, anyway, first off, where is your big friend? The news pertains to him.”

So they don’t have Venir!
Melegal thought, relieved but not showing it.


I don’t know,” Melegal said.


Strange. He’s usually here, from what I’ve heard,” McKnight said, scanning the room.

Melegal just stared at the detective, as he knew McKnight was only trying to draw a response.


Well, I will go ahead and fill you in,” McKnight said, fanning himself with his black hat. “You see, our task for the Royal Almen family was to track down your friend and bring him to justice. He tried to kill Tonio here.” He thumbed in the Royal’s direction. “And he committed other crimes against the Royal house. As you are familiar with Royal ways, we can’t return empty-handed when given a dire request such as this. Rather than being taken in, we would be cast out. In general, we are better off dead as opposed to a life of Royal exile.”

Melegal, of course, was well aware of all of these Royal ways. He saw that Luke remained wide-eyed.
Leave already.
The bard finally glanced his way with a funny look on his face. Melegal shrugged, once again hoping that Luke would get up and leave.


In order to assure that your formidable axe-wielding friend doesn’t evade our efforts any longer,” McKnight said, “we have made some assurances. I guess I can allow you to relay them to him.”


Why don’t you do that yourself? I can’t guarantee that I will see him anytime soon, you know. It could be days or even weeks, knowing him.”


Well, Melegal, I don’t plan on letting the beloved pet of his that chewed up Tonio to live that long. I don’t figure he is accustomed to leaving town without him, either.”

Melegal’s mind raced as things began to come together. If they had Chongo, was Quickster in danger as well? That would explain why Georgio disappeared, and now maybe Lefty, too. Was McKnight about to reveal that he had them all?

He felt the air thicken, dread surfacing, himself shrinking. He refused to show it, though, and only stared back into the detective’s probing eyes. Luke was now sweating, picking his lip, but unable to find words.
Don’t say a word, Luke.
But the bard didn’t hear his thoughts. Luke grabbed his lute.


How about a song, fellas?” Luke said, smiling in good cheer.

Shut up you fool!
Melegal said, kicking Luke under the table again.

But it was too late.

Melegal’s blood turned cold as Tonio’s dagger burst through the front of Luke’s neck. The bard’s eyes glassed over as the Royal laid the limp body down on the table. The Drunken Octopus cleared out quickly as the scarred warrior wiped his blade on the dead man’s back.

Melegal could feel Tonio’s hatred as the young Royal’s sneer of satisfaction bore into him. He felt cornered, uncertain, and couldn’t even glance at Luke’s corpse.


Well, Tonio, you didn’t have to do that, but I guess that leaves more wine for me,” the detective said as he readied another glass. “And I would like dibs on the lute. Any objections?’

Tonio picked up the beautiful red lute and began to pass it over to McKnight. The detective reached over but then the Royal pulled it away and smashed it against the stone hearth, tossing the splintered remains into the fire.

The whole room was empty at that point. The commoners, apparently, were smarter than Luke had been.


I guess that’s an objection,” McKnight said, shaking his head in disgust. “So where does that leave us, Melegal?” McKnight reached into his chest pocket. “Oh, a funny thing happened after we took the two-headed dog. A boy came by and left us this.”

McKnight tossed something onto the table. Melegal looked down, slumping in horror at the sight of what lay in front of him. It was a boy’s finger, pudgy and greasy—just like Georgio’s. The gruesome sight caused his eyes to water, not from sorrow, but rage. He was ready to cut McKnight into ribbons. His sunken cheeks began to redden as he hissed through his teeth: “You are going to regret doing that, McKnight.”


Oh, I wouldn’t let it bother you. The boy grew back another one. It was something I had never seen before. Such a boy will fetch a fine price, wouldn’t you think? Every time I cut one off, another grew back. See, look.”

With that the cruel man tossed several more of the boy’s blood-clotted fingers onto the table. Melegal’s heart sunk at the thought of what his friend had gone through. He felt numb and empty inside.


You are twisted, McKnight. And you won’t live through this. Once Venir finds out, he will kill you and that rotting Royal you are with, no matter where the boy is. I’ll … I’ll find the boy … somehow,” he finished.

McKnight seemed to be relishing Melegal’s torment.


You only have so long to save the boy, rat. You and your big friend, that is. Now I give you my word that if you bring your friend outside of the gates of the Royal Almen House, I will release the boy. That doesn’t mean someone won’t come after him again, but I will release him to you. All we care about is Venir. I will settle my score with you later.”

The detective gave a signal that only the likes of him and Melegal knew. It was a thief’s guarantee, and with that, Melegal knew his former mentor would keep his word.


I will give you until dusk tomorrow to have your friend at the gate. If he shows, I will lead you to the boy. Agreed?”

Melegal nodded. He had no other choice. He felt cornered, and for the first time in a long time, at a loss for words.


If he isn’t there, then the boy’s time will be up shortly thereafter. I will see to that. I know that the boy is hard to kill, but I am pretty sure he can suffocate or drown. Now I will leave you with Tonio while I depart. I can’t have you following me. Not that you could, but I will take no chances. See you soon, little rat.”

McKnight turned to leave but then whirled around.


One more thing,” he said. “Your donkey is dead.”

Melegal was convinced. He watched as his enemy tipped his hat, turned, and sauntered out of the empty tavern, wine and all. Tonio stood before him, gazing at Melegal with a complacent look on his face, arms folded across his chest. Melegal just stared back, unblinking, waiting for the man to leave.

As he waited, Melegal wondered which one of them had cut the boy’s fingers off. How painful that must have been. As he looked into the compassionless face of a once proud warrior, Melegal could see little other than the man’s grayed skin. But he could sense that something did burn deep inside, like a furnace or hatred that gleamed in the back of Tonio’s deep brown eyes.

Melegal was sure that revenge was the only thing actually keeping the young man alive.

About an hour later, Tonio left the tavern. So there Melegal sat, never feeling more alone. A throbbing headache began under his furrowed brow.

He looked down at the table where Luke’s blue eyes stared up at him in frozen horror. The fingers and a thumb of the boy he bickered at so much over the years now lay scattered before him. And his beloved pet Quickster was dead.

Melegal fought back tears. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. He sat there, dumbfounded and helpless. Venir was nowhere to be found; no one was for the matter. His sly and calculating mind for once didn’t have a plan, a response, or anything. Panic was overwhelming his thoughts as he had no desire to move. Just as he began contemplating whether or not he would just be better off if he jammed his dagger into his head, the Motley Girls returned.

 

CHAPTER 24

 

 

Sounds of faint sobbing echoed off of the dungeon’s damp stone walls deep below ground. Cold water drops fell from the low ceiling of a torch-lit corridor, creating thin streams along the muddied pavement. The glimmer of torchlight against the ruddy walls faded as the corridor sloped and wound deeper—toward the sound. At path’s end, where only extinguished torches hung from the walls, a steel-barred door loomed, allowing the sobbing sounds to find escape into the corridor’s dank air. Outside the door burned a small torch that looked to be flickering its last moments of light.

On the other side of the steel bars, a big brown-haired boy, half-naked and shivering, huddled in a corner against the cell’s cold walls. Fresh blood streaked the walls and ground—and the boy’s body, but he didn’t seem to be injured.

With a rumbling stomach and wide eyes that darted back and forth, Georgio pressed himself harder against the walls as large red-eyed rats prepared to nip at his feet and hands.

Between sobs, over and over again, Georgio muttered, “Save me, Vee. Please save me.” Then the last of the torchlight expired.

 

CHAPTER 25

 

 

Lefty moved unnoticed through the busy streets of the City of Bone. His large sweating feet evaded the muck and grime as if they had a nose and eyes of their own. He was worried that his friend Melegal was not heeding his warnings. It did not take him long to reach the large barn where he hoped to find his best friend, but concern crinkled his brow. His trek seemed to take hours as countless horrific scenarios paralyzed his thumping heart.

He pulled his cloak tight over his shoulders and slid in through a side door, taking several glances around. The old barn filled with stables had its usual signs of life at the busier end facing the heart of the city. His own path seemed abandoned by comparison. The enormous barn intimidated him whenever he traveled it alone.

Lefty was never comfortable with large beasts, sometimes even dogs and cats. Good thing for him he could outrun almost anything. He did recall when a young bull set its sights on his plum red vest and chased him over a stable gate and into the mud of grimy pigs. Panic almost cost him his life as he saw the jaws of the brainless animals jerking up and down. If Melegal hadn’t pulled him out, he’d have been dead. The thief followed it up by slapping him silly.

That very day, the thief began instilling principles within the boy to set his mind right in any situation. Lefty, though, still had trouble coping with reality. The thief would reiterate over and over, “Sometimes you just have to act and not think. Better to die doing something than doing nothing.”

The lesson of those words raced through his mind now as he drifted like a shadow down to the stable where he hoped to greet Georgio. Standing just outside the stable door, Lefty listened for the boy singing or Chongo’s low rumblings. He pressed his keen ear to the stable door. Nothing. He noticed that the small door built into the stable was open, with hay scattered about.
He must be moving Chongo or just out
picking up eats again
.

Lefty took a deep breath, nudged open the door, and peeked inside. He saw Quickster slumbering without a sound near the back. He stepped inside. As he cleared the door, a strange scent aroused his nostrils, something sweet and familiar. He paused as his spine tingled. A light rustle stirred beside him as he turned. Something powerful gripped his entire face, covering his mouth and jerking him off the ground.


Shhhhh. Don’t be squirming, or I might hurt you,” a rumbling voice whispered in his ear.

Lefty couldn’t reply as his face was squeezed so tight that his lips couldn’t move. He tapped the rough meaty hand that engulfed his face. The powerful hand that secured him set him down and released him. He couldn’t believe his eyes as a blood-red bushy face stared down at him with a smile.

It was Mood, the king of the Blood Rangers. Lefty stared up at the massive dwarf in awe. Indeed, the dwarf was a giant compared to him, standing near six feet tall and broad as a door. Lefty watched as Mood closed the small door, then knelt down.


Okay, little feller,” Mood said. “Go ahead’n ask me why I’m here,” he said as he puffed on his thick aromatic cigar.

Lefty knew something bad had indeed happened if Mood was here.


Wh-What’s wr-wrong? Wh-Where is Georgio and-and Chongo?”

The fair-haired halfing couldn’t make out the expression on the giant dwarf, but he could see a glint of green in his eyes and detect concern in his voice as he spoke:“I don’t know where the boy is. Chongo, I know. He calls for me in distress and that’s why I’m here.”

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