Torment and Terror (13 page)

CHAPTER 34

“It’s an odd plan,” Billip said to Venir. He was looking through a spyglass, and it was just the two of them. They’d been traveling three long days, and the days weren’t getting any shorter. Lying low, the small army managed to avoid any underling troops. It was easy. They just followed the destruction the underlings caused. Caravans. Nomads. Small remote villages. The marauding underlings mutilated everything. Crops. Herds. The youngest and oldest of people.

“But I like it.”

“Of course you do. You seemed to enjoy yourself quite well the last time we were there.” Billip chuckled. “Just don’t say anything in front of Joline. She’s pretty needy, and it’s been to my advantage. I’d hate to spoil it.”

“You’re the envy of all the camp,” Venir said.

“I’m not alone in my status. You and Kam seem to be doing well for a change.”

“She picked a fine time to like me again, I’ll give her that.” Venir took the spyglass from Billip. “But I’m not complaining.”

“I don’t think she is either. She’s actually been smiling.” Billip pointed his finger toward a distant village on the horizon. “What do you make of that?”

Putting the spyglass to his eye, Venir followed the direction of Billip’s finger. The small clay building still stood. He didn’t pick up any movement either. “Odd,” he said. “Nothing smokes or burns. It’s possible they fled long before the underlings got to them. Or the underlings could be on to us and it’s a trap.”

“Maybe we’re close enough to Dwarven Hole that the underlings don’t venture here.” Billip cracked his knuckles. “Eh?”

Venir turned around and faced the army. It moved slowly, at least two hundred yards behind them. The setting suns were against their backs. The men were weary, the supplies low. They’d scrounged up what they could in the towns and cities. That wasn’t all that they found either. Every place they went had a small remnant of survivors, most wounded but living. The jungs wanted to put them out of their misery, but Venir had none of it. So the small battered army trudged along, getting bigger, slower, and weaker.

“Venir, do you think anyone else wants to fight, aside from us?”

“Sometimes I wonder if there is anyone alive but us.” He collapsed the spyglass and tossed it to Billip. “We’ll know soon enough. The jungs sent for more of theirs. The striders did the same. It’ll be interesting to hear what the dwarves have to say about it.”

“It’ll be interesting if they even talk. Aren’t you going to be on the outs without Mood around?”

Venir’s chin dipped.

Seeing Mood go that day at Outpost Thirty-One had been a kick in the gut. To make matters worse, Chongo was still gone too. The two-headed dog he missed the most though. The giant bull mastiff was a friend unlike any other he ever had. His instincts, tracking, and loyalty were irreplaceable.

“You’re right, Billip. Worst-case scenario, we might have to venture into the Mist. The underlings probably won’t find us there. I just don’t know how we’ll survive it.”

“The Mist!” Billip shook his head. “I think I’d prefer death, based off what you told me.”

“It wasn’t so bad.”

Billip frowned at him. “Heh. You’re full of slat. I know better than that.”

Venir slapped him on the shoulder. “That you do.” He stared off into the distance. “That you do. So what do you think?”

“About what?”

“Do you want to scout that little village ahead together, for old time’s sake, or should we let someone know?”

“You mean to tell me you aren’t going to run off all by yourself? You’re actually asking?”

Venir dropped his pack and pulled out the sack. He hadn’t even bothered trying to withdraw Brool and the armament. There hadn’t been a need yet, even though Helm certainly offered plenty of aid. Instead, he kept his long knife on one hip and Georgio’s sword of the long vanquished Tonio on the other. He ran his fingers over the tiny jewels encrusted on the pommel. “The unknown,” he murmured.

“What was that?” Billip said to him.

Venir stuffed the sack back inside the pack. “Uh, nothing. I think I’m going to leave well enough alone for now.”

“Why’s that?”

Venir slipped the pack over his broad shoulders. “No sense in drawing any attention to myself. The armament sometimes does that.”

“A true enough statement.” Billip held up his hand and waved it back and forth toward the army. “There. They all have warning enough. Let’s go then, shall we?”

“Aye.”

Billip took off at a fast trot.

Venir glided in behind him.

With their boots kicking up dust, it wasn’t long before they reached the edge of the small city. They slowed just inside the inner rim and walked from there. That was when they saw the first body.

A woman’s head was severed from her shoulders. She was on her knees, and the head was nowhere in sight.

Venir’s sword snaked out of his scabbard.

Billip readied his bow and arrow.

“That blood is fresh,” Venir said under his breath.

Heads on a swivel, they ventured farther inside the town.

The dead started to stack up. Men who were poorly armed with hatchets and sickles were carved up.

Venir kneeled down and inspected one. “These cuts are clean. Precise.”

“I don’t see any tracks either, Venir. Not of any underlings, that is. Normally they are all over.” Billip had his hand on the booted impressions on the ground. The small buildings cast shadows over the scene. “It’s as if a bladed ghost attacked them.”

“Look at this,” Venir said.

A hardy man lay on the ground stiff as a board with his eyes frozen toward the sky. Another person was broken into large pieces, and no blood ran out.

The hairs stood up on Venir’s neck. “I smell underlings.”

There were at least forty bodies scattered all about. Not to mention all the people who were probably dead and hidden inside their homes.

On ginger feet, the two of them picked their way through the bodies.

One group of the dead huddled together. Tongues were swollen outside of their mouths as if they had choked to death. Hands were chopped off others who had crawled through the dust and bled to death.

With the suns sinking, Venir and Billip continued their investigation.

The abnormal death count continued to stack up. Whoever had done this had to be close by. No more than a league away, if Venir were to guess.

Billip cracked his knuckles. “We probably don’t want to camp here tonight. Let’s go back and tell the others.”

“Aye,” Venir said. “I’ll stay close.”

“I say we stick together.”

“Fine.” Venir sheathed his blade. “Let’s get out of this dead city.”

As they marched out of the town back toward the oncoming army, a cry of alarm rang out in the distance. Horses galloped out of the regiment in all directions. Bright pyrotechnic lights lit up the sky.

Howls of pain and horror caught Venir’s ears, and he was off and running.

Kam! Erin!

CHAPTER 35

Master Sinway sat on the Kling throne. His iron eyes were boring a hole into one of his soldiers—a Juegen, one of his elite guards, covered head to toe in a light suit of dark full plate armor. Beside that Juegen, another one lay dead. A large hole gaped inside his chest. His entrails were cooked and still smoldered. The armor was red and hot to the touch.

Tapping his fingers together, Sinway asked the remaining Juegen, “I’m not so sure that I hear you right. Did you say that my prisoner escaped?”

Still kneeling, the Juegen glanced at the dead soldier, faced Master Sinway, and said, “Yes.”

Sinway’s fingers crackled with new life. Lightning danced there. Things were going well. Too well. Sidebor’s escape was the last thing he needed. And to make matters worse, this was an outright betrayal. He had thought he could trust Elypsa, but it seemed she had plans of her own. And of all places, they had fled into the outlands. Why?

He got up from the throne and floated over the steps of the dais. Everywhere, he was surrounded by beauty. Exquisite paintings and tapestries. Gold-flecked marble. Oversized and ornate crystal chandeliers. It was much too much, but Sinway liked it. It showed how easy the men above the world were bought and sold. It made his conquest easy. It made him wonder why this avenue had not been taken before.

He floated down alongside the Juegen. “Take your helmet off.”

The Juegen did as he was commanded. Fire burned in the master swordsman’s eyes. There was fear in there too. Eyes watering, he averted his gaze from Sinway’s.

“I hate unfortunate news,” Sinway said. He put his palm on the underling’s head. “But it was your duty to bring it.” He gazed around. There were other soldiers in the room too. His guards. Underlings soldiers with deep blue eyes. They wore black leather armor. Swords were strapped on their hips. Two cave dogs, massive beasts with shaggy fur, lay at the foot of the throne. Eyes alert, the beasts were to pounce and devour anything. “Take off your armor.”

“Yes, Master Sinway,” the Juegen said. Starting with the gauntlets, the underling stripped down to nothing but his breeches. The dark-skinned fighter was a knot of corded muscle and long braided hair. His back had a huge brand on it. The symbol of the Juegen. He set the armor in a neat pile and kneeled once more. “What is your bidding, Master Sinway?”

Sinway pointed to one of his guards. “Send a message throughout the Underland: Find Elypsa and my prisoner. I want them alive, but if they don’t surrender, dead will do. I want the bodies.” He patted the Juegan on the head. “As for your body, well, it will do well. My dogs are hungry. Will you feed them?”

The wide-eyed Juegan nodded. “Anything you wish, Master Sidebor.”

“Good, very good.”

The doors to the throne room burst open. Ebenezer the head Kling marched in. The powerful man had an angry look on his face. He took a quick knee and got up again. “I must speak with you, Master Sinway.”

Slowly, Sinway turned in mid-air. His iron eyes narrowed on Ebenezer. “You dare march in here unannounced? My, it seems you have not suffered enough.”

“It’s an urgent matter.”

“I decide what is and is not urgent. What is it?”

The greying warrior pulled his shoulders back. “We found a patrol of your underlings slaughtered in a nearby district.”

Sinway pulled his hand away from the Juegen’s head and squared off on Kling. “And I assume you have apprehended or killed the culprits.”

“We’re rounding up suspects as we speak.” There was a smile behind Kling’s eyes. “But I’m not so sure we have the right ones.”

“Kill them all anyway.”

“We have to have some sort of order in this city!” Kling blurted out. “If you would quit carving our people to death, this wouldn’t be a problem. Exercise some diplomacy!”

“This is still a conquest, mind you, Kling! We don’t have any need for your kind. Perhaps I should slaughter every human, starting with you.” Sinway sneered. “Your bickerings are becoming as boorish as they are annoying. I think it’s time to cut your throat out. Let’s see if that anvil on your hip can back up that mouth of yours.” He tapped a Juegan on the shoulder, pointed to Kling, and said, “Kill him.”

The underling slid his curved blades out of their scabbards. Blades bared, he glided like a panther toward the much larger man.

Kling’s hand fell to his hilt.

The underling waded in.

Quicker than a mongoose, Kling’s broadsword scraped out of the scabbard.

Shing!

The heavy blade came down in a lightning fast stroke.

Slice!

It split the underling’s face in half.

After ripping the blade free, Kling wiped it on the underling’s body and gently stuffed it in his scabbard. “Your bickerings are boorish as well,” he said to Sinway. He turned and walked away. “Good day.”

CHAPTER 36

“Oh wonderful, another decimated city. I can smell the dead baking already,” Melegal said.

Sitting behind him on the back of Quickster, Jasper sniffed the air. “I don’t smell anything.”

Melegal reached back and squeezed her knee. “That’s because you’re a city girl.”

“You were bred in the city too,” she said, playing with his ears. “But I like the idea of seeing you barebacked and farming. Wouldn’t that be a sight, sweaty with a hoe in your hand.”

“I have a hoe already,” he said, leaning back into her.

The last couple of days had been hot and miserable. The only comfort Melegal had was the intimate time he squeezed in with Jasper. The little sorceress and he made the most of it. He’d even gotten touchy and feely with her.

Now, he wanted a bed. A city. Some song and some wine.

The outlands were growing old on him. And it didn’t help that the hardy jung fighters’ eyes and comments were getting heavier toward the women. The striders were just weird, and another dozen injured and wounded rescued were like marching with the walking dead.

He petted Quickster’s neck. “We’ll find you some good grain, boy.”

“I don’t want to camp in another dead city,” Jasper said. She shifted behind him. “I need to get down. I can walk from here.”

He brought Quickster to a stop, slipped off, and assisted Jasper out of the saddle. “Good idea.” He wrapped his arms around her and massaged her rump a little. “Getting used to the ride?”

“No, but I could get used to what you’re doing.” She planted a soft kiss on his neck.

“I bet you could.”

Suddenly, the air went still and the entire army came to a stop.

Something crept in between Melegal’s shoulder blades. His hands slid away from Jasper. A jung pointed toward the sky. Every man, woman, and strider gazed upward.

There, thirty feet in the air, a black robed underling hung like a moon. A bright red gleam was in his eyes. His fingertips sparkled with red fire.

“Oh slat,” Melegal murmured. “Boon!” He looked around.

“I haven’t seen him all day,” Kam said. She was still on top of a horse with Joline and Erin.

“Everyone stay close,” Melegal said. He backed Quickster up and huddled with the women.

The rest of the army formed a circle around them in a close-knit wall of men, striders, and horses. It protected the women and the wounded.

Nikkel found his way to Melegal’s side. Raising his crossbow to his shoulder, he said, “I didn’t see any other underlings out there.”

“Me either,” Melegal said.

His cap told him that the being in the air had a supreme confidence about him. Dark and formidable.

“I don’t suppose he’s here to barter.”

The jung and striders readied their crossbows, bows, and arrows. Strings were stretched taut and scraped along their cheeks.

The jung leader dropped his hand.

The missiles took flight. Over a dozen sailed true—and passed right through the underling in the sky.

A chittering chuckle turned up Melegal’s ears. A split second later, fire flashed from the underling mage’s fingertips.

The lead jung was struck in the chest.

The red beam spread through one soldier and horse after another. The entire circle of fighters glowed with burning hot light. Horses dropped dead. Others bolted. Jungs fell to their knees, gasping and screaming at the burning holes into their bodies. Striders’ mantis-like faces burst into fire.

“Nikkel, shoot him!” Kam yelled. “He can’t be ethereal and cast a spell!”

Clatch-Zip!

Nikkel’s heavy bolt rocketed through the air true to the mark. The bolt stopped inches from the underling’s head and quavered. The bolt turned to smoke and ash.

Gaping, Nikkel said, “Sonuvabish!”

Amid the cries and screams, the durable army pulled what was left of it together. The jungs cursed and clamored with weapons raised. The striders hefted their spears up high. Though battered and bloody, they’d fight to the last among them.

“Kam! Jasper!” Melegal said, checking his dart launchers. “Do something to protect yourselves.”

Out of nowhere, a white-haired wisp of a woman appeared within the ranks. A cry of alarm went up. Weaving in and out of the army, her swords struck like snakes.

Is she an underling!

Melegal’s jaw hung.

The woman was gorgeous. Cotton colored hair spun behind her head. Her black-skinned body moved with the grace of a ballerina. She struck with the speed and power of a cobra. She was a marvel. A sensuous assassin. A cold calculating murderer.

She’s amazing!

The jung swung at her with determined ferocity.

She side stepped and disemboweled them. She spun away from hacking blades and slit throats. She was a wisp, and the army was dropping like flies. No one got a glove on her.

Three striders surrounded the underling woman. Spears ready, they stabbed with deadly pokes.

She parried. Countered. She shore off their hands with lightning-quick strokes. She cut them down at the knees. Pierced faces and hearts and ripped her blades free. She slung her hair away from her face and marched over the wounded, straight for Melegal.

Nikkel stepped in front of him. “I’ll take her.”

Melegal whisked out his blades and slipped back in front of Nikkel. “You’ll do no such thing.” He threw his blades down on the ground and held his hands up. “We surrender.”