The Darkslayer: Book 01 - Wrath of the Royals (4 page)

Venir paused ten steps away from her, heart thundering in his temples, brandishing his longsword and hunting knife. Beside him, Chongo barked and growled.

“Mmm … dog meat, my favorite,” she said, licking her maroon lips.

He measured his next move, knowing that he had more support than she. She did not seem worried about the likes of him, though, or the rest of them. She stood before him, tall and proud. Now, Venir was so close that her ranking features captured his imagination. Her dark blue eyes burned from behind the eyelets of her helmet, intelligent and cunning. He yearned to know more about the woman with blood dripping from the axes that hung loose in her hands.

“Hey … yellow hair,” she said in a taunting voice, “… if you see something you like, why not just come and get it.” He didn’t know what to say as she added, “Seems I have a mute boy hear, it’s a shame, all muscle and no tongue.”

A bright white smiled grew under Venir’s nose as she stepped forward, then back. He sheathed his sword and knife and folded his arms over his chest.

“I can’t help but wonder why, a woman such as you, would run around with filthy gnolls? Surely you can keep better company?”

“Ah, the boy has a tongue. I might have use for you yet.”

She stared back and took better measure of the man she faced. Her battle-hardened body began to loosen. He felt her eyes bore into his chest as if she liked what she saw. He was ready for her to spring at any moment, fighting to maintain his composure. He felt something churning inside of him as she continued to look him up and down.

Rivets of blood slid off her coated helmet as she removed it. Her face was beautiful, slender and strong, her dark eyes searching his. Her blood smeared skin was browned by the suns, her cheekbones high and noble, scarred and somewhat disfigured; but he kept his gaze on her eyes alone. She seemed to like that, a smile coming and going from her lips. The closer she came he seemed to fall under her shadow, for she was taller than him. If this woman isn’t the Brigand Queen, he thought, she must be the queen of something. She stopped just out of striking range as he hushed his barking dog that dropped to his haunches. Danger still prickled the air, but it could wait.

“So tell me, yellow-hair,” she said in a voice as polished as silver, “why did you kill my men? They had no quarrel with you … or yours.” She looked around, but there were no signs of his companions.

“My name is Venir,” he said, “and gnolls are not men, they are beasts that we like to kill. Luckily for you, you are not a gnoll, and we don’t like to kill women, or you would be dead too.”

“Hah!” she said. “Even if I were a gnoll woman, you wouldn’t be able to kill me.” She waved her battle axes in front of his face. Their craftsmanship was of the likes he had never seen. He found them almost as fascinating as her.

A few silent moments went by and the tension in the forest seemed to ease.

“I tell you what,
Vee-neer
. I’ll spare you and your men if you tell me what business you have in my forest.”

“Spare us? Now it’s my turn to laugh. Hah!” he said, not hiding his chuckle. “…anyway, we are looking for some people.”

“What kind of people?” she said, wiping blood from her lips.

“Ones who follow a brigand queen named Jarla. If she lives in your forests you may have heard of her,” he said, not withholding an ounce of sarcasm. “I hear she mates with gnolls and has a butt like an ogre. Ever hear of her princess?”

“You are a witty one, Venir, I will give you that. It’s been a long time since a man made me laugh.” She gave him another once over as she looked around. “It seems I’m in need of a new escort. I need to report back to this
queen
you spoke of.” She rolled her eyes. ”Perhaps I can help, she is very fond of me.”

“Tell your two men to come on in. I’ll take you back to
my
camp and feed you. But, don’t kill any more of my gnolls. Got it?”

“I’m not promising anything ….”

Billip and Mikkel were quiet as they accompanied their friend back to her camp. It was unsettling. Marching a more-than-capable warrior back to her own camp, containing natural enemies among the ranks, was not the best idea for survival. Chongo stayed back with the two men. Venir was oblivious to their concerns. He didn’t know why he followed, but he did, his passion overcame his reason. He didn’t notice the dour looks behind his back, but he would have done the same for them. Melegal, however, managed to evade the situation and she had given no indication that she knew of his presence.

The hike became sluggish the further they went as she led them miles deep into a wide, ravine-like pass. Few words were said among them. Venir would have followed her athletic figure anywhere across Bish. He thirsted more than usual as he watched her long glistening legs pass through the brush and climb over mossy edges. He looked back at his friends whose faces were grim and downcast.
They’ll be alright.

The ravine was narrow and wet and he felt notched bows bearing down on his chest as he looked up into the thick tree branches. The singing birds became silent as the pass bottomed out before a massive hill, made up of jagged rocks and vine-like trees, rising towards a flat top.
Good place to hide.
She crested the hill disappearing from his sight. A foul smell began to choke the humid air. Doubt grew inside his chest as he scrambled after her as shards of rock slid down the hill, bringing sharp complaints from below. He made it over the top and crouched by the rim and stared on in wonder of the brigand camp.

Billip, Mikkel and Chongo gathered at his side. It was laid out similar to the army camps they had served in over the years. Most noticeable was the variety of races that grouped together and the slaves they had acquired to serve them—a cruel and despairing life.

“This is disgusting,” Mikkel muttered as he began climbing back down the hill.

The archer grabbed him and said, “You leave they’ll feather you like a chicken.” The big man frowned but stayed his ground in silence.

Humans, orcs and half-orcs were gathered by fires, armored and as filthy as a pig in the mud. The stench of sewage and rotting flesh filled their nostrils as large flies buzzed in their ears. Venir knew at that moment that they had seen all they needed to see—but they weren’t going anywhere.

Venir and the rest stood stupefied as she spoke.

“Make yourself at home.”

She strode away, her head held high as all the men of the camp stood at attention and saluted her.
Jarla the Brigand Queen …..

The humans were a welcome sight in the midst of the other brash races. It was clear to Venir, however, that their time in the brigand army had worn down their humanity. Many of the men chewed food and grunted like a beast as they tormented the hapless slaves, women and children among him. He wanted to run them through.

The suns were setting and they made a small camp near the edge of the plateau. No one or thing approached them as he watched humans abusing humans. The brigand men didn’t seem to care what happened to their own kind at the hands of the gnolls, orcs, or kobold bandits. He saw them make sport of a pair of human boys that wrestled in the slime of sewage. A gnoll, tall and powerful, barked fearsome commands as one child beat the other child senseless into the muck. They wanted to avert their eyes, but could not. Instead, they looked on the yellow eyes of the dog-faced gnoll. It snarled and looked away.

Two days had passed and the men did all they could do to blend in while staying removed. It was evident that he and his men were not welcome. Their arrival with Jarla had an impact and no one dared approach them, but it was awkward. He watched as Jarla stayed busy controlling her camp like a field general. The decrepit army was an organized shuffle at her beck and call. She said little to him, but ignored his companions like the plague.

“Vee, we got to go!” Mikkel said for the hundredth time.

Venir sat, toying in a log with his ancient hunting knife. If he could only get used to the smell it wouldn’t be so bad, that and the chronic griping. He convinced them that he was still figuring things out, so they had to trust him and wait.

Venir listened to the hundred different ways Mikkel would kill the kobolds. Those small humanoids looked a bit like halflings, with ruddy, snakelike skin, dog-like faces and two tiny horns on their heads.

Mikkel rambled on through his sneered lips saying, “I’ll shoot them in the back of the head. I’ll bust their little heads. I’ll cut them in the belly. I’ll—”

Venir knew his friends were concerned, but he assured himself he had things under control. He told himself he really wanted to find out what this brigand army was all about, but in truth he was infatuated with Jarla. The powerful warrior woman had captivated him in ways he did not understand. He was uncomfortable with it, but wanted to discover what she was about and why he was drawn to her. Indeed, she might be his enemy and it seemed only prudent to keep a close eye on her—a task he hoped to enjoy ….

Venir was sleeping by the burning coals of the campfire when ferocious growl from Chongo stirred him. They all sat up, hands gripping hilts. Two heavyset half-orcs with beady eyes, sweaty snouts and flails approached. They were part of Jarla’s escort.

“Jarla wants to see the one called Venir,” one said as the other spat. “Come with us.”

Venir shrugged and couldn’t help a grin at his men, as he followed the pair away. Mikkel and Billip looked at each other and rolled their eyes, then lay back in their grassy beds.

“Go back to sleep, I’m just messing with you. Don’t get me thinking about it too, things are bad enough. Even that orc woman missing an eye is starting to look attractive to me.”

“Well, just you dream about her then, not about my woman—got it?” Mikkel said, giving his friend a shove in the back.

“Got it, now go to sleep,” Billip said, hiding his grin.

Mikkel rolled over and was fast asleep, but Billip kept churning the whole night. He was ready to leave and determined to convince Venir to do the same. The hills didn’t have walls, but he could feel it closing in. He rolled up, stoked the coals, petted Chongo and cracked his knuckles. This place is evil, he thought as he waited for dawn to break. He swore he heard voices laughing at them somewhere in the distance.

The escorts left him at the entrance to Jarla’s extravagant tent. It stood in the center of the camp, ten feet high with the makings of a Royal field general.
How did she get this?
His nerves were on edge as dozens of favorable scenarios inside her quarters raced through his mind. He pulled his flaxen hair back from his eyes, took a deep breath, and entered with a smile.

Her tent was plush, filled with purple and red pillows, hand stitched carpets and curtains, twinkling silverware and china lay out on the tables. The shining candle lights were absorbed in the dark tapestries and there was a fragrance, overwhelming at first, but soothing. It was so much better than the foul air that surrounded him earlier. He saw no sign of her as he walked toward the center, spinning around on his heel. He wanted to dive into the sofa and guzzle the crystal carafe of wine on a table nearby. He rubbed his filthy hands on his dirty trousers. From behind one of the curtained sections he heard a playful and sultry voice.

“I’ll be with you in a moment, Venir.”

He was all too eager to find out what awaited him behind the purple and gold curtain. He swallowed the lump in his throat. His temples began to pound, as if he were entering the battlefield to face an enemy he had never seen before.

After a few more agonizing seconds, she emerged from behind the curtain, wearing thick gold hoop earrings and a sleeveless black silk gown that stopped mid-thigh. Her dark blue eyes were magnetic, drawing into his as she approached him. Her jet-black hair was pulled into a pony tail that lay over her shoulders and her wine colored lips revealed a small welcoming smile.

She brushed her chest against his and looked down into his blazing blue eyes.