The Darkslayer: Book 02 - Blades in the Night (37 page)

“
Are you ready for bed now, big boy?’

“
Am I ever,” he said, tossing her over his shoulder.

She giggled.

Trinos’ conversation with the discovered nemesis Scorch was as unpleasant as it was surprising. She approached the other infinite being who drifted on the edge of the massive black void with hostility. Scorch was not fazed by her as he seemed preoccupied with other things. He ignored her efforts for conversation, not seeming to either understand or care, as he had other things in mind. She touched him. The contact put a jolt of new reality in her universal body. So long it had been since she had been in contact with anything alive that she had forgotten sensation, and was suddenly overwhelming. It got his attention too.

What?
Scorch asked.

Why my world?
Trinos returned.

She heard his thoughts with clarity. She did not agree, either. She would not be satisfied with his remarks, either, as Scorch tried to move away, but she stayed with him. She did not know why she pursued her interests as she did, but she felt the need for some satisfaction, but all Scorch would communicate was,
What difference does it make?

Scorch stared into the void, certainly contemplating something. She was certain he would pitch himself into the everlasting blackness. Trinos thought his demise would be fitting but she didn’t want to see him go. After all, he’d made the last few moments in her existence more interesting. So she made him an offer.

Return to my world with me, and within its realm, let’s settle this. You can always leave.

Her offer seemed to intrigue him. He drifted back her way. She could feel something stir inside him. She felt something when he agreed.
What is that?

Horace the hill giant was frustrated. He was unable shake his adversary, the dwarven king Mood. The stocky giant was hidden by magic high in the rocky outcrops miles from Dwarven Hole in the barren Outlands in the northeast, many miles south from Hohm’s Marsh. He ground his teeth and waited.

Over the decades,
the giant would encounter Mood and his clan. He loved to taunt them then disappear. It was the way of giants. They waded in and out of the realm of Bish and into another realm of their own. They were bound by the world and bred by magi long ago. They were careful. They avoided normal eyes when they wanted to.

The giants were an aloof race, but far more aloof than intelligent. Men of the races had managed to acquire their service from time to time by crafty promises that often were not paid. The giants kept to themselves for the most part after those times, but they would forget their folly over the course and be tempted by their worldly wants once more.

The generations would pass and they would forget what they had done. They desired to fit in with the rest, be smaller, so they could enjoy the things in Bish that were abundant, such as food, wine, and women. Their men were few and their women far fewer. Many times, the magic of men would size them down from their astounding height to the size of a man—a very large man.

Men would give them their fill of pleasure and then trick them into promises that they would keep. The giants would be deceived into service that often brought them a shattered life of slavery. They built and destroyed cities among countless other things. The giants were big, strong, and amiable, but shortsighted, lacking in common sense, and reckless in their desires.

Horace, though, was different. He was crafty, cunning, cruel, and cold. His bitterness in his black heart came from his stature. He only stood ten feet tall, a runt among his kind. They shunned him. He hated them. He had the same desires and was more prone than most to act on them.

His size was abnormal, treated so, but his mind was not right, either. The hill giant was moderately insane, lacking care or consciousness, and he tended to unleash his fury on smaller things … such as the dwarves.
Horace’s massive head was ugly, with long braids of brown hair that hung to his thick neck, brooding black eyes, and a broad nose. Coarse hair covered him from head to toe, a foul mouth full of curses and rotten teeth, a square jutting chin, bearded black.

He wore priceless baubles of gold and silver, and hooped earrings adorned his lobes, plus he sported a buckled belt, and rings on all fingers that would fit on a warrior’s biceps. His muscles bulged under his grizzly bearskin vest. Pelts and hides of beasts wrapped his legs and arms like trophies as skulls rattled around his neck. He was worshipped by ogres, which he adored, and despised by dwarves, which he hated.

Now he found himself in a quandary as his efforts to escape the Blood Ranger Mood were becoming more and more in vain. He knew he could not be seen or smelled by the common nose or eye, as he relied on that advantage for survival. Horace could smell and hear the beast that accompanied the dwarf; it was an unfamiliar scent, yet he hated it.

The giant had not seen his pursuers, as he was wary to keep his distance from their relentless pursuit. Magic somehow aided the snout of the beast or dwarf, and there would be no avoiding the conflict today. The hill giant gripped a massive studded mace in his hand. Its thick oaken shaft was nearly six feet long and thicker than a man’s leg. Its head was a ball of black metal studded with welded steel. The weapon was impossible for a mere man to swing in combat, but Horace was eagerly flipping it around like a child’s rattle in anticipation.

He pondered moving on all together, to somewhere else, as his kind could and often did. But his arrogance and hatred would not allow him to be hounded any longer. Besides, he hated Mood and his Blood Rangers.

Horace liked staying on Bish too, and saw no reason to leave its comforts. The giants wouldn’t want him back anyway. No, he would wait for the dwarf and the beast. He had a trap in place. He pictured the look on the dwarf’s face, then laughed to himself.

Venir was having second thoughts. So he spent his time trying to fast-talk the mage Fogle Boon from his charge of following him into the Outlands. Every time he placed an example of the menaces of the land, Fogle implored him to know more. He had never been asked so many questions in his life.

There he sat in the Magi Roost, surrounded by people he was quite fond of. Kam, Fogle, Georgio, and Lefty seemed to be in harmony with the rest of the room. It was Venir who felt out of place. He had put the boys through too much. He couldn’t do it again.

He saw Kam cast him a glare. He knew he deserved it. He’d duped her into taking the boys while he was away. She didn’t mind it so much as she let on, though. The boys always talked about the glimmering pools and the fascinating web-footed water cats. Georgio had brought one home, but it was gone the next day.

Venir told his stories as he watched them all. Lefty’s deft hand scribbled away as Fogle looked over his shoulder in amazement. The mage had been trying to pick up on the halfling’s shorthand, and seemed to be doing so on his own. Lefty checked Fogle’s notes and gave him a nod. Venir finished his latest tale, bowed at their applause, and stepped outside for some fresh air. It was midday, but the horizon in the south was overcast. He was itching inside. He had to go. He wondered how Melegal and Mood were doing.

When he returned to the table, a long piece of steel rod was on the table.

“
What’s this?” he asked.

“
Do it, Vee?’ Georgio said with his fists bunched.

“
Do what?” Fogle and Kam asked.

“
Bend the bar,” Lefty said.

“
Hah! He can’t bend that bar. No man can,” Kam said.

Fogle was silent on the matter.

“
Can too, “ Georgio said, then stuck his tongue out at her.
Venir picked up the hefty rod of steel in his hand. It was as thick as his thumb. He put the bar over his monstrous shoulders, grasping it as both ends. He pulled down on it. It bent slightly, then straightened.

A new crowd gathered.

Venir looked at Kam and Fogle. He saw doubt in their eyes. He didn’t like it. He pulled down on the bar again. He pulled at it, around his bullish neck, with all his might. The steel groaned. He roared. He didn’t hear the excitement in the voices around him, only the blood rushing in his ears. His veins popped out under the strain, muscles corded like snakes bulged out. He gave a final heave as the steel crossed between his fists. He let out a blast of breath.

He pulled the loop of steel off of his neck and put it on Georgio. The crowd applauded.

“
What did you think of that?” Venir asked.

“
Amazing!” Kam said.

Fogle just applauded.

Georgio started tugging at his tunic. “How did you get so strong, Vee?”

“
Ah … you know this one, boy,” he said, rubbing his curly brown head.

“
I don’t, you big brute,” Kam said, running her leg up and down his.

He had two urges, but he opted to tell the story. He settled in …

“
My village sat on glimmering streams that boasted the best fishing in all of Bish. Fish were big business in every city large and small. But our fish and fisherman were the best. Every race on Bish fishes and even the orcs would surprise you with their skill. But sometimes, fights over fishing territories get ugly. But that’s another tale.

“
I remember the day well. A gentle breeze cut through treetops and swooped over the waters that were cascading over river rocks and tamping down the reeds along the bank. I waded between the banks with my fishing pole, casting over and over in a particular spot. I was only ten years old and fishing like a veteran of thirty years. I was good. I was trying to hook a fish the likes of which I had never seen. It was a silver fish! Or so I thought.

“
My father and my grandfather recalled the one time they had seen one skipping up and down the streams like a spawning trout, its thick scales as bright as polished silver. They told me it contained mystic powers—if you ate the meat underneath its scales.

“
There was nothing more I wanted to do than catch that fish. I wanted to make my family proud. Chongo was there too. Treading water like a duck. He kept spooking the fish. Sending it farther downstream. He wouldn’t shut up.”

“
I followed that fish stream all day. I couldn’t let up. When night hit, it was gone and I collapsed on the bank. The next morning, the fish was there again. I don’t know where I found the strength but I cast on.

“
The fish settled in a deep part of the stream. I wanted him so bad that I could taste him. I could just imagine the look on my family’s face when I brought him home.”

He smacked his lips.

“
And that’s how you got strong? By catching a special fish?” Georgio asked.

“
Patience, boy, patience,” Venir said, then winked at Kam. “I remember my father telling me to avoid the dark spots in the streams. But I didn’t care. I wanted that fish. He was very far away, just hovering over the black water. I cast over and over. My arm tired. I crept farther in, my feet slipping on the rocks below.

“
It was just ten feet away. It was the most magnificent fish I’d ever seen. It was over two feet long and slender, and its fins waved at me slowly, in rhythm with its tail. Its mouth would open and shut over and over again. I had the best bait, but nothing worked. It just hovered there in mockery.

“
I inched closer. I could hear Chongo barking like a dozen hounds behind me, but I didn’t listen. Something caught my foot. Whatever it was held me fast, but I still kept casting with my rod.

“
Before I knew it, I was sunk down to my chin. I was still sinking. Something was pulling me under. I’d never been so scared in my life.

“
The water began to swirl around me. I splashed around like a fish on a line. I was pulled under. In that clear water, I could see the fish. I could almost touch it but my arms were too tired to lift. Its silver eyes stared at me. I could swear it smiled.

“
I was drowning. I’d never see my family again. It seemed like every day of my life raced through my mind. Then it hit me. I wasn’t going to catch the fish. It was catching me.

“
I looked at it one last time. It was almost touching my nose. I looked below. A dark hole was there and silver tentacles were creeping out of it a dozen feet from my toes. I yelled, bubbles bursting out. I pulled out my grandfather’s knife and thrust at that fish. I struck it behind the gills. I grabbed its tail and drove the blade in deeper. I swear it screamed.

“
I saw silver blood streak in the water. I felt something pulling me by my neck. Somehow Chongo dragged me to shore, but I had passed out. When I woke up, I saw the fish, lying on the ground beside me. I was starving. I had no idea how long since I’d eaten. I wanted to take it home.

“
But I couldn’t resist it. I tore it open with my hands. Chongo and I ate every bit of that raw fish.”

“
Ewww,” Kam said.

“
Even the scales,” Venir said. “It was the most delicious thing I ever tasted in my life. Every ounce of strength I’d lost was gained back immediately. I felt like I could do anything. When all the fish was gone, I cried. I knew no one would believe me. My dad would be mad that I’d been gone. I was sad.