Torment and Terror (9 page)

CHAPTER 22

“Kill me, really?” Sidebor huffed. Eyeing the keen edges on Elypsa’s black bladed swords, he added, “Don’t dull that exquisite steel on me.”

“You are weak, Sidebor.” With the grace of a panther, she closed in on him. Her blades, like black cobras, were ready to strike. “I don’t like it.”

“Weak?” His black blood boiled. “You think you can take me with that steel, little girl?”

“I think I can take anybody.” She cut her blades in an X. “Easiest of all a thousand-year-old man with part of his essence missing.”

“Try me, you little white-haired witch,” Sidebor said with a sneer. His fingertips glowed hot red. “Try me now–”

Elypsa’s swords started to sing.

Slice! Slice!

Ching! Ching!

Sidebor caught the blades in his hands, which were aglow with blistering heat. The steel turned red hot.

Sweat burst out on Elypsa’s brow. She jerked her hands away. “Impossible!”

Sidebor tossed the blades aside with a clatter. “Nothing’s impossible. Trust me, little girl.”

“Don’t call me that. I’m more than two hundred years old.”

“Hence the term, little girl.”

A blade whisked out of one her sheaths, and she pressed it to his neck. “This little girl’s going to sever your neck.”

“Heh-heh, if that were the case you’d have done so already, Elypsa.”

She pulled the blade away and sheathed it then stepped back and walked over to pick up her swords, eyeing the blades. “You didn’t warp them. That’s a good thing.”

“It was not my intention.” His hands winked out. “Had it been, your blades would have the sharpness of spoons.”

Sheathing her swords, she resumed her trek through the winding caves. Sidebor followed.
What is this bewitching woman up to?
He couldn’t help but be curious, and her seductive gait was inspiring.

So they walked and walked for miles—maybe a league or more—until the underlight was no more. Now, the light came from a different source.

Elypsa stopped. Ahead, a crack of light burned like a winking eye.

Sidebor stopped by her side. “You’ve never seen the real suns before, have you.”

“You know that most underling women haven’t. We’re not allowed.”

“You are our buried treasure. We dare not risk it.”

Guarding her violet eyes, she resumed her march forward.

Sidebor grabbed her arm. “What are you doing?”

“Let me ask you something, Master Sidebor, what are your thoughts on Sinway?”

“I hate him. But he is my son.”

“A son that keeps his father prisoner.”

“I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same, given the circumstances.”

“Just so you know, I hate him too. That’s why we’re leaving.”

“Leaving? You’re taking a trek into the outlands?” He laughed. “The heat will be more than your precious hide can bear. You’ll perish within a league. And you have no supplies.”

Elypsa ventured to the cave’s mouth. She pushed away some rocks and revealed a pair of backpacks. She tossed one to Sidebor. “That’s why you’re coming with me.”

“To my peril? I don’t think so.”

“Your peril has already been set in motion.” She slid the pack on over her shoulders. “Any moment now, they’ll learn you’re escaping. I wouldn’t be surprised one bit if the underling hunt has already begun. And I’m sure Sinway will indeed have your head for it. So, are you coming, or not?”

“You need me, don’t you.”

“I need you, yes, and you want me. Yes. Don’t worry, I’ll make it worth your while.”

Something shuffled in the cave darkness behind them. A pair of Vicious emerged with claws and fangs bared.

“Tell me they’re with you.”

Elypsa shook her head. “I was hoping they were with you.”

CHAPTER 23

Georgio looked on aghast as the balfrog continued to cause splatter. Boon’s small army was devastated. The ranks faltered, and the underlings pressed into the startled army with a renewed charge. “We have to kill that thing.”

“Brilliant idea.” Boon dropped out of the sky and landed beside Pall. “Any ideas, blood ranger?”

“Sure, just climb inside its belly and carve him up from the inside out.”

“You’re joking,” said Georgio. “Right?”

Boon shrugged his brows.

“Well, shoot him with lightning or something,” he said to the wizard.

“I hate to admit it, but I am quite drained.”

“Now that I’ve seen it in action, I think that blade of yours should do the job, lad,” Pall said to Georgio. He shoved the curly haired man in the back. “Get after it.”

“How am I supposed to get inside that thing?”

“Just let him eat you,” Pall suggested.

“That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard,” Georgio argued. “Why don’t you do it?”

“He won’t eat a dwarf. Don’t like our flavor for some reason.”

The balfrog continued to snatch up the ranks, plucking up the men, striders, and jung fighters like flies. The underlings surged to victory.

“I’ll go,” said a young voice.

Georgio turned to see Lefty standing there with a dagger in his hand. “No, you won’t go.” He reached for Lefty. “You stay right here.”

Lefty ducked out of his reach. “No. Everyone’s always doing things for me. It’s time I did something for them. I’m off, Georgio!” Running at a full sprint, he weaved through the knot of angry soldiers and made a bee line for the balfrog.

“I can’t believe him!” Georgio growled. “Cover me!”

***

Taking aim on the balfrog’s eye, Billip shot another arrow. It sailed true, smiting the monster’s orb. The feathered shaft protruded from the monster’s eye, but it didn’t slow the beast.

“You need a bigger arrow,” Nikkel said, hefting up his father’s heavy crossbow. “Something more like this.” The young black man took aim and squeezed the trigger.

Clatch—Zip!

The long bolt soared true and penetrated deep into the balfrog’s eye and vanished.

The monster lurched. Its great mouth unleashed a horrendous sound.

“KROW—ACK!”

The sonic blast knocked Billip and Nikkel clean off their feet.

“KROW—ACK!”

Billip’s stomach turned. He covered his ringing ears. “That’s one sickening set of hiccups!”

“Yeah, those are even worse than Georgio’s!” Eyeing the balfrog, Nikkel grimaced and covered up his ears. “Here it goes again!”

“KROW—ACK!”

All around them, jungs and striders dropped their weapons and fell to the ground, covering their ears.

On hands and knees, Billip shook like a leaf. The devastating sound knocked the life right out of his limbs.
This is miserable!

Ahead, the balfrog resumed its dinner. Quickly, its tongues snapped out and snatched up the fallen—one, two, three at a time.

Gulp! Gulp! Gulp!

Gathering his strength and fighting through the spinning of his stomach, Billip readied another arrow. “Never thought I’d see the day when something could out-eat Brak and Georgio.”

From his knees, Nikkel pulled back the string on his crossbow. “Yeah, me either. Slat, Billip, how are we going to kill that thing?”

Billip let loose a feathered shaft into an unsuspecting underling’s neck. “Maybe we should just focus on what we
can
kill.”

A wee little figure of a man appeared between him and Nikkel. It was Lefty. He stood there blinking his bright blue eyes, dagger in hand. “Hi Billip! Hi Nikkel.”

“Boy, what are you doing here?” Billip pointed to the hills. “Get out of here before you get yourself killed.” He fired another arrow into the fray. “Now!”

“I’m going to kill that balfrog,” Lefty said, matter-of-fact-like.

Nikkel huffed a laugh at him. “With that little blade?”

“It’s dwarven steel. Pall gave it to me.” Lefty shrugged his little shoulders. “It should do.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Billip retorted. “Get clear of here
now
, Lefty!”

“Bye, Billip. Bye, Nikkel,” Lefty said. “If I don’t survive, well, it’s been nice knowing you both.” He took off in an incredible sprint and stood right in front of the balfrog.

“He’s mad!” Nikkel said.

“Stop him! Stop him!” said a loud and desperate voice. It was Georgio, laboring for breath. “Why didn’t you stop him?”

“Seems his mind was made up,” Billip said, “and I didn’t exactly take him seriously.”

Thirty yards away, the balfrog’s big bulbous eyes fell on Lefty.

The halfling stood still with his arms wide out.

The monster’s tongues struck, snatching him up and sucking Lefty deep into his mouth.

Slurp!

Jaw dropped, all Billip could hear was Georgio’s scream.

“Nooooooooooooo!”

CHAPTER 24

Gondoon’s fingers locked around Brak’s throat like a pair of iron pythons. The mammoth ogre was nothing but animal-like brawn. A savage snarl was on his twisted lips. Spit dripped from the canine teeth in his mouth. “You will die this time, human!”

Brak dug his fingers into the ogre’s neck and squeezed with all his might. Blue veins rose up on his hands and arms and around his temples. Eyes fixed on Gondoon’s, he choked out the word, “Never!”

Locked up, the titans shuffled back and forth on the dusty ground. Pressing. Pushing. Pulling. Neither fighter would give.

Some of the brigand men chanted, “Gondoon! Gondoon! Gondoon!”

Others threw in uninspiring words.

“No mortal can kill Gondoon!”

“Not even a sword can pierce him!”

“The big lout’s neck shall soon snap like a twig, and I shall have his little woman!”

There was laughing. Scolding. The shuffle of coins clinking and bets about how much longer Brak would last.

“Don’t quit, Brak!” Jubilee shouted. “You can beat that oversized coward!”

“Shut your mouth, you!” A brigand backhanded her across the cheek.
Smack!

It gave Brak’s tired body a burst of energy. He shoved Gondoon back and pushed his thumbs in deeper.

Gondoon’s big ugly head growled. Despite Brak’s tremendous efforts, the ogre still spoke somehow. “I cannot be killed, fool.”

Brak kept squeezing. He dug deeper into the thick muscle of the ogre’s neck. He fought to push all doubts aside.
Anything can die.
His father,
Venir, had said that. Brak held on to that belief. Muscles aching, he kept on.

“My, what a red and purple face you have,” said Gondoon. “And those ears. Red like fruit. They’ll make a fine adornment around my neck. I might even have them gold-plated.” With a heave he pushed Brak down to a knee.

“It’s almost over, men! Someone break out a cask of ale!”

Heart pounding in his ears, air supply being cut off, somehow Brak kept his hands locked on the ogre’s neck. His eyes stayed fixed on the ogre’s.

Gondoon sneered at him. His lips started puffing. It was the final surge to finish Brak off once and for all.

The viselike fingers dug deep into Brak’s ox-thick neck muscles. The dirty nails bit deep into his skin and drew blood.

“It’s almost over!” yelled a brigand.

Snorting and puffing, Gondoon turned it on.

Brak’s neck didn’t yield. His own grip didn’t either.

Suddenly, Gondoon’s grip eased. His big yellow eyes widened. Worry filled them.

Brak pushed up to his feet.

The clamoring brigands fell silent.

The layers of muscle in the ogre’s neck gave way, and Brak’s thumbs pushed deep into Gondoon’s throat. Brak took a gasp of air, and with an angry face he said, “You talk too much!”

The ogre’s once tireless limbs gave out.

Brak shoved the massive man to the ground, and with hands still clamped over Gondoon’s throat, he let out a barbarous shout.

Gondoon’s wide-eyed will gave way. His throat gave in as well.

Crack.

Gondoon flailed in the last throes of life. He bucked and punched at Brak and died.

Fighting for breath, Brak slumped over flat on his back alongside the dying stink of Gondoon. Eyes blinking in the burning light of both suns caught a glint of steel. Swords and spear tips surrounded him. “I killed your leader,” he said in a cracked voice. “It’s only fair that you let us go.”

“It’s only fair that we kill you the same as you killed us,” said a rugged bearded orc. “You may have somehow beat Gondoon, but you’re every bit as dead as you should have been before.” He spat dark juice on Brak’s boot. “And your comrades are finished too. But we’ll have a bit more fun with them first, eh, lads?”

Brak didn’t reply. He’d used all of his remaining energy on his last sentence. He could barely think. All he could feel was his throbbing body and the pounding heat of the suns.
Is there only death in victory?

“You cannot kill us,” said Fogle.

Some of the brigands parted.

Brak got a full view of Jubilee and the wizard. He expected Fogle to have some mighty orb of power surrounding him. Or some lightning clutched between his fingers. Instead, he got a haphazard-looking man chewing on his fingers.

“Gag his lips,” the orc ordered.

“I know your ways,” Fogle interjected. “Your leader is dead. Vanquished in a fair fight. That man on the ground, he’s your leader now.”

The orc licked his sweaty lips and turned up his broad piggish nose and squealed a laugh. “Fool. Stoneskin was not our leader.” He shrugged. “Though his smarts exceeded those of a typical ogre, we didn’t take all of our orders from him.”

Blocking the hot wind in his eyes, Fogle said, “You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?” The orc pulled out his sword. It was a heavy blade with a pair of teeth on the end called and orcen fang. “I’m all for order among our brood’s ranks, and I’ll follow it to the death. But I assure you.” He kicked Gondoon. “This was not our leader, not since a while ago.”

Brak managed to make it to his knees. The spear tips were still dangerously close to his neck. He was eyeing Fogle.

The wizard’s hands were still behind his back.

No one was guarding him.

“Come now. Quit playing games,” Fogle said. “You only delay. That man, Brak, is your new commander.”

In the near distance the sound of a horse neighing caught Brak’s ear. Slowly, still breathing heavy, he stood up. A rider came from a small grove of tents. Hair billowed like a banner behind the rider’s back. Closing the short distance, hooves thundering through the sands, every brigand dropped to a knee and bowed.

“Get down, you fool!” said an ugly pie-faced brigand.

Holding his cramping side, Brak stood tall.

Fogle and Jubilee crept over to him now that the brigands who had been holding them were flat on their bellies.

The rider and horse were black silhouettes in front of the suns.

Finally, Brak got a good look.

Hard-faced, deeply tanned, and beautiful, the rider sat tall in the saddle. Her hair was long and jet black. The deep-blue-eyed woman surveyed the bloody scene. Men were dead. Some still dying from mortal wounds. She scowled at Brak. “Did you kill my best ogre?”

Voice cracking, Brak replied, “Yes.”

“Great.” She drew a longsword that hung from a scabbard on her dapple grey horse. “Now I get to kill you.”