The Darkslayer: Book 01 - Wrath of the Royals by Craig Halloran Page B

scar. Get a nice tattoo over it and the ladies will love it, especially the orcen ones.”
    The tunnel was silent for a moment as Venir watched all eyes draw on him. Other than Slim, the bunch looked ragged and beaten. He wanted to collapse, his belly burned and his body ached from head to toe. It seemed there was no other way out. One choice, Fight or flee.
    “Let me take care of you big guy, that’s a nasty mess in your belly.”
    Venir’s voice was harsh.
    “No, let’s go.”
    The cleric stepped out of his way …
    Slim tried to convince the sentries at the outer grate to come along, that remaining would be to their immediate peril. They laughed. They were hard and loyal men and would not abandon their duty. The soldiers made it clear they would rather die than run, wished the men good fortune and turned away. Closing the storm drain behind them, before sealing it shut, one yelled out.
    “Bish be with you!”
    Now the men stood in the forest, listening. Venir could hear the rising crescendo of bloodshed ringing in his ears. He could picture the underlings and the brigand army spilling inside the outpost and blackening its interior. The gates were compromised. The shouts of Royal orders were silenced by magic, missiles and manslaughter. Plumes of fire and smoke began to fill the sky.
    It was clear that the onslaught was overwhelming and no Royal man or beast would survive. A great chunk of evil would follow the valiant soldiers into the bloodied ground however, that seemed clear judging by the roar of the fighting above, but it would not be enough.
    Mikkel was nodding his head.”
    What is the plan!?”
    “The last plan was to get word to the northern cities for assistance,” Slim said. “So let’s head that way, or else I’ll go alone.”
    Venir said, “No, we go south. They won’t be looking as hard there. The northward route will be the most heavily guarded. The underlings will be thick for miles.”
    “They underlings will be everywhere—period!” Mikkel added.
    Slim had something to offer.
    “I have magic that should conceal us all. But I don’t want to use it until the last possible moment; it won’t last long. We’re going to have to move like a banshee to get clear. I’ve got other ideas, too. Are you guys with me?”
    Having ventured with Slim before, Venir had some idea of what he had in mind. He wasn’t keen, but they had little choice other than to trust his magic. It could do more than heal.
    “I’ll take the point. For some odd reason they can’t see me. You guys should be fine. I just hope there’s nothing worse than underlings out there looking for us.”
    Slim tightened the cords on his sandals.
    “Awesome Venir, you just gave me another idea. By the way, nice helmet or whatever that is. It makes you look mean … like Melegal.”
    Venir barreled down the ravine with Chongo at his side. The others followed not far behind, all thoughts heavy on the downfall of Outpost Thirty-One. Mikkel managed to recover his heavy crossbow as they passed by the ambush site. Venir maneuvered through the thick foliage like a metal apparition, striding through the dark like a bobcat. He could sense underlings were all around, but not close enough to pinpoint. He fought the urge to find them, as the awareness made the battle very compelling. He began to realize that he could lead them all out of harm’s way if he could stay focused on fleeing, rather than killing.
    Nevertheless, the spiked helmet on his brow beckoned him to make contact and destroy the underlings. He had to stop more than once to regain his composure, rather than succumb to the battle lust. His will was strong and only his loyalty to his friends prevented him from giving into his reckless desires.
    He led them through the forest, minute after minute, stirring little more than a muskrat. His nerves were on edge as every unfamiliar sound seemed amplified. He looked back time and again as Billip signaled they weren’t followed. They