The Darkslayer: Chaos at the Castle (Book 6) (4 page)

“B
ish,” he muttered, “I feel a hundred years old.”

Alongside the fire, a small black figurine sizzled with mystic fire. It was his familiar, Inky, the ebony hawk he had made. Barton had crushed the bird days earlier,
losing many of the key components.

“This better work
.” Fogle reached over and touched the object. The black bird was cold to the touch. “Ah, what am I missing?” He eyed the bird with his green eyes, scanning the ground. “Oh yes.” Reaching over, he picked up Venir’s hunting knife, and with a small scalpel-like dagger, he shaved off part of the carved horn from the hilt.

“Son of a Bish!” he exclaimed as the knife slipped and he gashed his thumb.
The blood dripped freely to the ground. “Just a scratch, Fogle. A tiny wound of the flesh.” He pulled the shaving from the hilt and pushed it into the figurine.

He checked his thumb.

“Still bleeding. Ugh. Stop bleeding.”

Cass would be laughing at him if she saw the look on his face. He didn’t care for the sight of his own blood running down his arm.
She’d probably laugh at me. That two-headed dog would, too. Toughen up, Fogle Boon.
He scooped a pile of dirt up in his good hand.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Boon said
. The man blinked. Rubbed his eyes and sat up. “You aren’t giant flesh, you know.”

“Do what?”
Fogle said. He dropped the dirt and stuffed his bloody thumb in the folds of his robes. His green robes, once garish in their own way, now looked little better than what a starving nomad would wear.

Boon stood up
. His bearded silhouette was formidable against the night sky.

“You know what
. You aren’t made out of mud, you know.” Boon reached over. “Let me take a look at it.”

Fogle shifted away.

“I’ll be fine, Boon.”

“Well, at least wrap it up
, will you? We can’t have you dripping all over Bish. Underlings can smell the blood of men for miles, don’t you know?”

Fogle sighed. It was pretty hard to believe that underlings could smell his blood from miles away. “It’s more likely that they’d smell the odor of Barton long before my fragile wound. Besides, I wouldn’t be surprised one bit if you were excited that they were right on our trail. Looks like you are plenty rested up for another battle, aren’t you?”

Scratching his chest, Boon groaned. “Well… I admit that I wouldn’t be against it, but I’d rather have a trap set first. There’s nothing quite like seeing a look of surprise on an underling the moment before their face melts away. It tickles my teeth every time.”

He’s insane. I’m the spawn of a madman.

“Tell you what then, Grandfather. You stay here.” Fogle pointed at the ground. “Set a nice magic booby trap while me and Barton go and search for our friends. Does that fit into your plan? Because I’m not sticking around so you can get us all killed. Sure, I realize the underlings are evil, but there is a time and place where you pick your battles.”

“NO! You are wrong, Grand
son. The time is anytime. The place is anywhere. Every chance you get to kill them, you take it. You don’t let evil linger around. You can’t let it take root. You must destroy it because if you don’t!” Boon seemed as tall as a giant, but his voice was deep and cold. “It will destroy you.”

Fogle tucked his chin into his chest and swallowed. He knew the truth when he heard it. Everyone did. The difference in most people was
they ignored what they believed, rather than acting on it. He’d been locked inside the mind of one underling already. Even if it had only been a glimpse, an underling’s mind was the darkest, most sadistic thing he’d ever seen. The underlings took pleasure in all the vile things they did.

“
I understand that. We should kill them. We should kill them all. But right now,” Fogle stepped nose to nose with Boon, “I need you to help me find Cass, that dog, and that man. I need your word, Boon. Will you help me find them first?”

Boon rubbed his bearded chin and made some clicking sounds with his mouth.

“Boon?” Fogle said.
“I … well … hmmm … well, you really are fond of that gorgeous woman, aren’t you? I’d fight a thousand underlings for a woman like that.”

“You’d fi
ght a thousand underlings for pleasure.”

Boon huffed a laugh.

“You take as much joy in killing them as they take in killing us, don’t you?”

“Well, it’s not worth doing if you don’t enjoy doing it, Grandson. You wouldn’t be pursuing the
druid if not for her libidinous thighs. Certainly you enjoy them?” He perched his eyebrows up and down. “Hmmm? Hmmm?”

“I pursue her because it’s the right thing to do, not because of anything else. Her thighs, her hair—”

“Her bosoms?”

“No
—not her bosoms!” Fogle turned away. “And stop changing the subject!”

“I remember the first time I saw your grandmother. She had the most amazing bosoms, like
those of three well-formed women in one. She was bathing at the Three Falls. I’d been trying to catch a peek for weeks…”

Fogle stuck his fingers inside his ears
. In the process, he ripped his bloody thumb from his robes. “Ow!”
Blood maddened Wizard. He’ll get us all killed.
I wish Mood were here.
He kicked the dirt. “Bish! Bone! Slat!”

He looked north
, where the moons were rising. How long would it take to get back home and sip some wine?
Will I ever see the City of Three again?
And how far was it, anyway? The truth was, he didn’t have much of an idea where he was or where Boon had taken him. He paced towards the forest where Barton had trotted off. There was no sign of the giant, but he noticed a track. Mood would be proud.
I can track a giant.
He sniffed.
Humph. I think I can even smell him as well. Pah, why am I looking for the giant, anyway?
He headed back towards camp. For all he knew, he was on the other side of the world.

“Boon, where in Bish are we anyway?”

The old wizard pointed one finger toward the dipping suns and the other at the rising moons and spun around slowly three times. “Let me get my sense of direction. You know, in the Under-Bish, the suns and moons were quite different.” He stopped and shrugged. “Well, I don’t know where we are, exactly.”

“So, maybe we are f
arther away than we started then? That would be convenient, now wouldn’t it? Next time, why don’t you send us straight to the Underland? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Why don’t you just rest, Grandson
? Things will be better when you rise up tomorrow.” Boon patted his stomach. “I could use some food about now. Say, where’s Barton? I bet he could scare something up.”

“Boon!” Fogle grabbed him by the arm and squeezed it. “Get your own food. As soon as my familiar is ready
, we are moving in whatever direction it leads us toward Cass. And there’s rations in the saddle. I don’t think we need to be making too much noise about it. Have you forgotten that giants are still after us too? Not to mention the underlings and Bish knows what else that lies out there. Now, give me your word you will help me find her, or else!”

B
oon peeled Fogle’s hand off his arm. “Grandson, you have my word, but don’t tussle with your elder unless you want to lose that hand.”

“And don’t tussle with your
grandson if you want to keep yours!”

They stood eyeing each other
. Unmoving. Unblinking.

Boon’s eyes were as hard as diamonds
: passionate, powerful and fearless.

Fogle
admired them. He wished he had them.

Irritated
, Boon said, “Tell me about those golden and silver-eyed underlings, Catten and Verbard. Why did you give those eyes back to them? Did you not realize what you had? Burning them would have dealt a blow to the entire Underland.”

“How d
o you know their names?”

“Never mind that
.” Boon motioned him over toward the fire and patted the ground. “Just have a seat.”

Fogle did so
with a sigh. He’d forgotten the conversation they were having earlier when the hoard of underlings attacked. Now it was time for both of them to satisfy each other’s questions. As for the golden eyes of the underling he’d given away, he was certain he’d done the right thing, but there was always doubt inside him. He remembered what Mood had said.
You cannot bargain with evil. Evil wins every time.

With a wave of
Fogle’s hand, a small book floated out of his sack.

“It was the only way to get the
spellbook back. A trade. The eyes for the book.” He swallowed. “And the robes too.”

“Pah!” Boon spat. “You cannot bargain—”

“I know! With evil! Yes, I know, but you can’t sit there and honestly tell me that you wouldn’t have done the same.” Fogle waggled their spellbook under Boon’s nose. “Huh? Wouldn’t you?”

Boon took the book from his hand
. “Well, I could always make another spellbook.” He ran his hands over the leather binding. “And I know it wouldn’t be the same, but there is only one golden-eyed underling. And he’s one of the most powerful ones. He’s the one known as Catten. The other is Verbard, and how did I learn their names? I discovered them when I fought some of their allies. Gold eyes. Silver eyes. The only two of their kind. They were close. So close. I felt them. They felt me. I was young, like you, decades ago.” His voice trailed off. “I’d say Catten is fully restored by now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Underlings can bring back their dead so long as they have the eyes. That’s why people burn them. Why else would his brother, Verbard, have wanted them?”

Fogle
shivered. He sprinkled mystic energy from his fingertips on his ebony hawk. It was almost ready. “He was killed once already, you know.” He grabbed the knife. “He had this punched through him. Venir did that. And I say if he can be killed once, he can be killed again.”

“Give me that
.” Boon snatched the knife away. “I knew there was something unique about that blade. I could smell it. I might even be able to track that underling down with it.”

“No! You gave your world we’d find Cass
! You won’t be getting any help from me on that quest!” He grabbed the book and closed it. “And you won’t be taking this book.”

“Grandson, if we can catch them, surprise them, kill them,
and burn their eyes up, then it will be the end of them. The underlings would sink back into their holes and not come out for decades.”

“That’s never happened, Boon. You’re delusional
.” Fogle scoffed. “You have to quit obsessing over them.”

“No
.” Boon’s eyes glazed. Drifted. He ran his fingers over the blade. “They must be destroyed.”

“You’re mad.”

Boon shook his head.

“You’re a fool. You don’t realize the peril this world is in
. I’ve never felt so many underlings on the surface before. They have invaded. This is not some skirmish. It is full-blown war!”

“Well, if you want to kill them, then I think your best chance is to find Venir. Find
The Darkslayer. And if you help me find Cass first, I think I can have a quicker way to find those underlings.”

“
Oh?” Boon grunted. “Tell me now.”

“First, I’m going to prepare some spells for our quest
, and when I’m done, you can prepare some as well,” Fogle said.

Boon
’s forehead wrinkled. “Grandson, tell me what you know now.”

Fogle tapped his head with the tip of his finger. “I’ll keep it safe
from you until the time comes.”
I’m in control now, you crazy bastard.

CHAPTER 6

Two days. Long, hot and miserable. Slim had bitten his nails down to the skin since Venir left. He sat alone, despite being surrounded by a few hundred of the finest horsemen that had ever been. He didn’t feel safe. Not because he feared them, but because he’d have felt safer with Venir. Since the warrior left, a feeling of dread had crept into his belly, and it wouldn’t go away.
Come on, Venir. Send that flare up.

The horses nickered
. The Royal Riders muttered. The foreboding sense of doom continued to grow. Early in the day a scout had returned, reporting another small army of underlings was leagues away. Bigger than the last one they’d fought. The Royal Riders were bold, brave, fearless as any, but they wouldn’t be trapped and slaughtered. They’d fight until they bled their last drop, but it would be on their terms. Given the choice.

“Cleric,”
said a large man with a long mustache and plate armor, “we can’t wait much longer. It’s time we go.” It was Commander Jans. A good man. A better soldier. His eyes were hard iron. He stared up into the gloom of the forest. “He was a good man, your friend, Venir. A good one.”