The Darkslayer: Chaos at the Castle (Book 6) (40 page)

Still, Lorda’s long
-lashed eyes intent upon him gave him a bit of a charge.

Master Kierway chittered to one of his men.

An underling with dark ruby eyes stepped forward, a razor sharp sword in each hand. The steel flickered around his body in a lightning quick display of skill and speed.

Great.

“That’s all show! Go for the ribs,” Creed said. “Like you did to my man. That was a good jab.” Creed muttered to Jarla something under his breath. “He doesn’t have a chance.”

Melegal
glared back at Creed, who shrugged.

“Let’s get this started, shall we
?” Kierway said, raising up his hand.

Melegal swallowed hard
and squared off with the underling.
If I only had my hat.
But it was gone. Everything was gone. The Keys. The hat. His friends.
Maybe they’ll survive this. But at least Sefron is dead. Was vengeance worth it?
He thought about Sefron. The man had been much more than he appeared to be. Was anything in Bish what he thought it was? He’d seen so many things the past several years.

Melegal
glanced at Lorda one last time.

She blew him a
subtle kiss.

I’ll be.

Kierway dropped his hand.

The underling sprang, swords chopping high and low.

Melegal backpedaled and parried the snake quick strokes.

Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang. Bang.

“Keep ‘em up, Detective!” Creed said.

Drained and starving, Melegal didn’t have the strength to fight.
Fight or die.
It rattled in his head, but he didn’t have it. He didn’t have anything.
Die.
He broke it off and threw down his swords.

The underling paused and looked over at Master Kierway.

“Don’t go out like that. Pick the blade up and finish like a man!” Creed said.

Skinny chest heaving, Melegal clutched at his sides and dropped to his knees.

Creed frowned. “He’s got nothing left in him. Coward.”

No, Melegal wouldn’t die fighting. He sucked up all the air he could and fixed his gaze on Lorda.
If I go out. I’ll go out doing what I want to.
He winked at her and mouthed good-bye.

She clutched her painted fingers at him, eyes watering.

“Finish him,” Kierway ordered, dropping his thumb. “And get the woman ready next. Sad, but I bet there’s more fight in the woman than the man. Pathetic humans, letting their women fight with them and against them. Weak.”

The underling warrior raised his blade, sharp teeth showing a savage grin.

Melegal kept his chin up, eyes on Lorda.

“CEASE!”

The entire room shook.

T
he underling warrior froze.

Lord Verbard, silver eyes sparkling, floated down the stairs
with Lord Almen and a hulking Vicious right behind him.

“How dare you
?” Kierway said, jumping up from his chair. “This is no concern of yours, Verbard, you insolent underling! My father—”

“Your father agrees! You can ask him yourself,” Verbard
said. “He’s coming soon, and no doubt he’ll want to evaluate your failures.”

Kierway’s hard jaw slackened. His
ascent up the steps stopped.

“Lord Almen, are these the
humans you want?” Verbard said, pointing down into the arena at them.

“Just
three of them: Lorda, Jarla, Tonio, Come!”

“Tonio!”
Lorda shot Almen a look. “Our son?” She looked at her son. Total shock on her face. She didn’t know him.

“Aye, no
w get moving, Dearest Lorda,” Almen said. “I’m out of parlays.”

“And th
at woman, the black-haired witch? Are you bringing your mangy whore along?”

“What about me, Lord Almen
?” Creed said. “I’m a loyal Hound at your service! You know that.”

Lord Almen
shook his head. “A hound, yes. No more, no less. I’ve plenty of curs at my disposal.” He grabbed Lorda by the wrist.

Creed scowled at Almen, muttering to himself.

Lorda twisted away and continued her ascent, giving Melegal one final glance. “If you get her, then I want him.”

Lord Almen’s jaw tightened. “Be grateful you live, Woman. You can stay with me, or you can stay with Master Kierway.”

Lorda called him a bastard, called out for Tonio, and moved away.

CRASH!

A boulder as big as a pony burst through the glass dome, crushing two underlings into the arena stairs.

The castle shook. Shouts of alarm when up.

“We’re under attack!” Lord Almen said. “It seems my neighbors have awakened.” He looked for Verbard, but the underling Lord was already moving.

“Get your men ready,
Kierway,” Verbard said. “The next battle has begun.”

A large white-yellow ball of energy floated through the broken glass and hovered over the
arena.

Kierway chittered a command.

Melegal balled up, covering his ears, closing his eyes.

Ka-Chow!

Something fell on top of him. It was the underling he’d been fighting. He shoved it off.

What in Bish!

Its red eyes were blinking and its limbs were loose. Melegal, despite his weakness, could still move. He grabbed a sword and stuck the underling.

Glitch!

Creed was on the move. Snatching up a sword, he tore a stunned underling’s head from its shoulders.

Escape
, Fool! Run!

Chaos unfold
ed. The dazed underlings were gathering their wits, heading for the doors. Kierway and Verbard were moving, ordering, unphased.

The
Vicious, a hulking predator, pounced into the arena and darted towards Creed.

Clank!

Melegal
and Jarla froze.

A large leather sack
had landed along the arena wall in front of Master Kierway’s chair.

Slat
on me! Venir?

Long legs churning
, Jarla dashed over and dove on the sack. With a ravenous look in her eyes, she opened the sack and reached in.

***

Tonio was confused. His father was there, calling for him. His mother didn’t seem to know him, and then she called for him too. And the underlings were in charge. Deep in the recesses of his mind, he knew he should be able to put it all together, but he couldn’t. It was frustrating.

“Mother
?” he said.

A
rock fell from the sky, and a brilliant white flash followed. He grunted. Clutched his head and shook it. “Mother!”

A creature with a cat-like face shoved his mother
down. Down the steps it bounded. He didn’t know what it was, but he was going to kill it.


Tonio kill!”

A pair of
underling warriors stepped in his path.

***

“I’m getting used to this underling steel!”

Stab!

Creed yanked the blade from the underling’s neck. Black-red blood gurgled from the hole and seeped into the ground.

The underling, though stunned, recovered quickly
.

Creed, Master Swordsman from the House of Bloodhounds, pressed his advantage.

Slice!

He disemboweled one.

Chop!

He chopped
another’s neck open.

“Who do I have to kill to
get some food and ale around here?” Creed shook the dripping blood from his blades. “I’m so hungry I could eat one of you fiends! Where’s the kitchen?”

He caught a shadow in the corner of his eye and whirled.

“What in Bone are you?” he exclaimed.

The Vicious. Wicked rows of teeth. Claws like razors.

“I see
you’re missing some fingers,” Creed said. “Let’s see if I can even you out and remove a few more.”

Creed lunged.

The Vicious sprung away and hunched down like an ape.

Creed felt something crawl
ing in his belly. He’d never seen anyone that big move that fast.

“Yer not born of this wor
ld, are you? No matter. I’m still going to gut you with my blades.” He banged the swords together. “Give it a go again. I’m ready for you.”

The
Vicious pounced, arms sprawled out, chest bared.

Slice!

He cut it across the belly and rolled out of the way and back to his feet.

“Let’s see how you fight with your guts hanging out.”

The monster turned, showed its fangs, and smiled. There wasn’t a mark on it.

Creed felt his skin turn pale. “I’m in for.”

The Vicious lunged.

Creed chopped with all his might
. The blade shattered on its forearm.

The Vicious ripped a hunk of meat from
Creed’s chest.

“Urk!”

The Vicious snapped him up by the neck and squeezed his neck like a fresh fruit.

Eyes bulging from the sockets, Creed flailed and kicked.

At least I took some more of them with me.

***

“Mine!” Jarla said, licking her lips, eyes wild.

It was her salvation. Her liberation. The sack, after all these years
, was back in her grasp, and nothing would ever stop her again, ever. It would fill her. Restore her. Any kind of enemy Jarla faced, even be they Royal or underling, she would prevail.

Reaching inside, her fingertips tingled in anticipation. The shafts of her axes. The power
surging through her bracers. The awesome awareness from her helmet. Down to her shoulder she reached, fingers outstretched as far as they could go.

“Where
are they?” She reached deeper. “Where are they!”

Her heart emptied. Nothing was there.

“No,” she sobbed.

A shadow fell over her. She looked up. It was the
rawboned detective. He held a heavy club with both hands. She sneered.

“That’s not yours,
” he said. “It’s Venir’s.”

“What
? Are you mad? I’ll never let that lou—”

Whack!

Melegal clubbed her across the jaw.

She tried to speak,
but no words came. Only pain. Then darkness.

***

“That felt good,” Melegal said, gathering the sack, “and I haven’t forgotten that Lorda wants you dead. But I’ll let the two of you fight that out.”

Explosions were still erupting all over the castle
, so the concerns of Lord Almen and the underling leaders were elsewhere right now.

Hidden along the arena wall, no one had sight of him
.

T
he stunned underlings that were coming out of the mystic blast were focused on the fighting in the middle.

Now I just have to hide until I find Venir. I knew that fool must have caused this.

It was simple. All he had to do was find a place between the walls until he figured out where Venir was. Then he could free him and let him deal with this mess. And he just might be able to get his cap and Keys back.
Just the cap. The cap would be good.

A doorway, up the steps on the other side of the arena
, was open with no one to bar his path.

Move or die.

He was darting along the arena wall, concealed for the first twenty steps, when he heard a familiar voice shout out.


Seize him!”

It was Lord Almen pointing and shouting
, his face filled with rage.

Melegal jumped up
, grabbed the lip of the wall, and slung himself up.

Two underlings bolted towards the door,
cutting off his path, weapons ready. 

He was too late.

Bone!

Two more were closing in from behind. All he had was a club and a sack. Expecting Venir to appear
any second, he shook his head.

Where is th
at brute?

Dropping the club, he sat down, laying the sack on his lap.

 

 

CHAPTER 56

 

 

“Mmmph!”

Tuuth tried to pry his mouth open, but Venir wouldn’t give. Teeth clenched, he fought on.

“Hold him still!” Tuuth ordered.

The brigands, stout as they might be, struggled. Each slipping into the mud from his efforts.

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