The Darkslayer: Book 01 - Wrath of the Royals (18 page)

He began pulling on his clothes, giving his friend a hard look as he buckled his belt.

“Why not tag along on this one? It’s been a while, and you’re getting rusty. These city walls make you soft, Melegal. Even though you’ve got it all under control here, there’s bound to be a day when the walls come down. You might not be ready.”

“There’s no comfort outside these walls. It’s as nutty as Bone out there! Ant’s bigger than my hands. Ground as hard as stone. What’s to gain? I have money, privacy, and a nice place to live. I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts. And the women are a lot easier here too. Out there they usually have three eyes, hairy backs, and a row of rotten canines. I’ll pass!”

“That last lycan about did me in. Who’d have thought she’d kill half the women I even looked at for no reason. I don’t want to take the chance of running into her again. My guess is she’s still around.”

Venir pulled on his boots.

“Fair point … she was fetching in the light though, except the tail. Look, I’d like to stay, but … I gotta go before I wind up killing somebody,” Venir said, attaching a large belt pouch around his waist.

Melegal gave him a rueful look and said, “I’ll walk you to the stables, then I can check on Quickster. If Georgio isn’t doing his job I’m gonna kick his fat butt. Hey, maybe he can go with you. Then you won’t need me anymore.”

“If you say so. How about first heading down to the market with me? I gotta load up with supplies before I get outta this stinking city.”

Venir tossed the remainder of his belongings into a backpack while Melegal started setting some homemade intruder traps. As the two adventurers went out, the door quietly shut behind them. Melegal produced a razor-thin key, self-made, and stuck it in a well concealed key hole. The lock tumbled into place with a quiet
click
.

“Is that necessary? Nobody’s gonna break in before you get back,” he said, scratching his head.

“I’m trying to not go
soft,
being prepared, like you were lecturing. Now, let’s get you outta here, before you hurt someone.”

The two companions headed down four flights of creaking steps onto the empty floor of the Drunken Octopus. They hit the malodorous city streets as the stinging rain hit their face. The showers from above disguised the sound of footsteps following from behind.

It was mid morning when he and Venir reached the stables. Melegal was executing his haggling with the local grocers to perfection. Their arguments over prices with him didn’t hold salt. Nothing was worth what he didn’t want to pay. He was doing them a favor by not stealing it.
Stupid merchants. Just thieves in fancy clothes.

His lumbering friend’s backpack was now stocked up with plenty of dried meat, fruit, and water to last the journey south. It was a stupid place to go, but at least his grinning friend could have a belly full. Anything was better than nights of eating bark and fried toad. Melegal had enough of those retched days in the wilderness. This city might smell worse, but it tasted so much better. He pinched a pair of plums from a wart-faced woman’s cart and padded alongside Venir.

The walk was much longer than he was used to and his narrow legs began to ache the ever slightest.

“I hate long walks in daylight like this. It feels like ten miles to the stables. You need to find a new stable closer to the Drunken Octopus.”

The back alleys of the massive city remained gloomy even in the daylight. Most of the city wasn’t safe, even on the brightest days on Bish. Only the main streets offered some safety. The two companions always took shortcuts, however, leaving a confusing trail in case of unwanted pursuit. Melegal always led Venir on a different route. He never got used to the big warrior moving like a ghost behind his shadows.

He looked back at Venir who paid his glance no mind. Melegal knew is friend’s mind was elsewhere, tracking and killing something. The pair had managed to survive some of the worst punishment as adolescents that the Royal’s had to offer. It was Venir who was the beacon that pulled them through. The big teenager at the time knew that Bish had better things to offer.

Venir told him about his family, pets, fish fries and more in his home village. He could almost taste and smell the words as they rolled off of Venir’s enthusiastic lips. Venir gave him something he never had before ... hope.

The Royals tried to beat it from Venir, but never could. How could anyone find the humor in that, but somehow Venir did. Now the man’s face was dark and distant these days. His friend was strapping and full of mirth many years ago, yet hard as iron inside and out. That festive smile was now replaced with something grimmer. Ever since the man came back from the clutches of the Brigand Queen the crafty ranger was not the same.

As each year past the hardy warrior returned thickened by battle and time, rangy muscles turned to bullish brawn. Now the youthful face was scuffed and hard as stone. His friend was on a lone mission that his even his forthcoming words could not explain. Venir was a talker, but said little about what was inside. Every time Venir left, Melegal felt it would be the last time he saw the man. He assumed the armament protected the man, but it did harm as well. A piece of his jovial friend disappeared little by little whenever he returned.

“Do you think that Royal boy learned his lesson?” Melegal wondered aloud. “Or do you think he’d have the gall to come after you again?”

“Well, I’ve discovered he’s from a very high Royal house,” he said with a sheepish look. “They don’t like scum like us screwing with their own. They can be vengeful.”

After several more minutes of walking his fleet feet fell onto a wide cobblestone street that crossed between the alleys. People plowed through one another, bargaining in the buzzing market places. Shouting and bartering could be heard everywhere, passing from slick lips and hefty hips. The streets were alive with trading, soliciting, and stealing, amid shouts of joy, shock and surprise.

Not far from the cobbled road loomed the great southern gate standing five stories high. The mighty portcullis was a woven steel maul locked shut. Traffic of people, wagons, carts and mounts were directed in and out, through a smaller gate on the east side, by an assertive squad of the City Watch. It was the main gate that controlled the passage of all vehicles and pedestrians in and out of the southern part of the city. Desperate people tried to press inside, only to be beaten back by whips and thick watch sticks. One hapless transgressor was beaten to death by a six pack of the City Watchmen.

The wall surrounding the City of Bone was a sight to behold. It stood over four stories high, made of massive stones no group of men could have ever moved. None knew where they came from, and nor did they care. The story of the old seers was that giants had built and occupied the City of Bone. There was no evidence to support such a tale. Only the boulders knew where they came from and they had no interest in talking. On the top of the huge stone walls stood many battlements lined with smaller walls of brick and mortar. Dozens of guards in studded leather armor and helmets were posted in pairs, spaced along the wall, as far as the eye could see.

Along the foreboding wall, a few hundred yards east of the main gate stood rows of massive barns. A dozen large wood-framed barns were laid out in two rows, each over twenty feet high and a hundred yards long. Melegal headed toward the barn in the rear, furthest from the gate. His feet were beginning to burn and the thought of a callous ate at his brain.

Gonna have to buy new shoes too.

Melegal tugged open a small nondescript door.

Finally here. Ew.

The smell of hay and manure magnified ten times when he stepped inside. He fought the urge to hold his nose; instead he tucked it inside his cloak.

Filthy.

Hundreds of stables lined the walls, and the sounds of stabled beasts rose to the rafters. Banners of the militia and Royal houses were displayed at the utmost northern end. An open roof cast light on several well-bred horses that were standing in the distance and being tended by stable hands hard at work with chores. He remembered those long days, frail arms shaking, face filled with sweat and grime. Urchins—the bottom of the barrel—worked here.

Pitiful, but I was smart enough to make it back to the castles and out of the stink.

Venir followed him into the southern end, away from the rustles and neighs that fell behind. The open roof was shadowed by the city’s wall, leaving the area quiet, undisturbed and run down. Another wooden fence, several feet in height, barricaded the south from the north. He climbed between the rotting planks as Venir pushed his gear through and climbed over the top, landing by his side.

*****

A curly-headed boy seated on a stool was buffing his shoes with a horse brush in the distance. Seeing the two coming his way, the young fellow squinted, jumped up and began running toward them, while trying to put his shoe back on.

“Venir!” the boy yelled, running up and wrapping two arms around his waist.

“Georgio!” he said, patting him on the head, trying to pry his arms off. “Easy, big fella. You’re getting stronger every day, I see.” Seeing the boy brought a smile to his face.

Venir watched Georgio finish his trot to a stable many yards away. The boy was nodding and mumbling between the planks of the gate. The stable was quiet, more so than normal. Something was missing. He crooned his ear expecting hear the eager baritone yelps of Chongo. The barking did not come. He watched Melegal walking towards the boy and the skin on his neck began to itch. Something was amiss. Venir started to turn.

“Don’t move!” a raspy voice said from behind. He froze.

Ahead of him, Melegal had whirled back his way, daggers drawn. He saw the thief’s chin dip, eyes flaring wide. Melegal’s lips were mouthing the word …
Tonio
.