The Slayarians - Book One by JM Barnes (the best electronic book reader .TXT) 📕

struck home catching the boy squarely in his left eye. His anguished scream cut the night air like a wounded animal caught by a hunter’s arrow. The dagger protruded straight up from the orb pinning the cloak over it. Ralac kicked out, blindly pushing himself backward. His eye burned like hellfire and warm vitreous fluid flowed between his fingers.
The boy was clear of the creature allowing Gemini to release the only spell he could call to mind at the moment. He clenched his fist then opened it palm up facing the cloak covered creature.
“Fier den Oberah!” Flame burst from his open palm like a stream of burning fluid. Instantly the cloak erupted in a fiery blaze.
A thousand screams echoed in the mage’s mind as the tentacled orb hurled itself toward the stables. It smashed through a window dripping fiery bits of melting cloth in its wake. He looked to the boy who still lay in the dirt moaning. Frightened screams sounded from within the stables and roused voices shouted from the inn. The mage threw open the stable doors and rushed in to free the panicked animals. The stable was quickly filling with smoke from fires burning in the hay and beginning to climb the old wooden walls. Sharp crackles and pops mingled with the shrill cries of horses stricken with fear. There was no sign of the creature save for the flames it had left in its wake and another broken window on the far side of the stable. The mage made his way through the stable releasing the steeds from their holds and allowing them to escape the inferno.
He staggered outside leading his dapple gray. Several men passed buckets along a line from the well on the side of the inn. He went to the boy and knelt before him.
“My name is Gemini and you saved my life, young warrior.” He took hold of the boy’s hands gently moving them to get a better look at the wound.
He gasped in shock at the sight before him. The boy’s left eye was completely gone leaving a gaping hole behind. Blood flowed freely once the pressure was released running in streams about the boy’s cheek to drip from his chin.
“My blade! I need my blade!” He grabbed hold of the mage’s sleeve. “What of the creature? Oh gods it burns!”
“He started this fire! The elf did it!” A lanky tavern hand shouted from the line. “I saw him hurl fire at the stable with my own two eyes, I did!”
The fire was growing larger and threatened to spread to the inn as glowing embers swirled into the night sky. Bells began to ring in the distance alerting the watchmen to trouble in the district. Soon the city would be awake and Gemini knew he would be held responsible for the fire. He swung into his saddle as angry workers turned their attention to him.
“Get down from there, pointy ears, yer goin nowhere!” Now a burly man who looked like a cross between a dwarf and a giant stood between his mare and the yout brandishing a large sledgehammer. “You and the little scamp are gonna pay dearly fer yer crimes here this night!”
Ralac got to his knees behind the large man at the mention of being indicted for his crimes. Gemini took the cue and nudged the mare forward with a slight pressure from his feet upon her flank. The mare struck the burly man in the chest before he could bring the sledgehammer to bear. The burly man stumbled backward, tripping over the kneeling boy and toppled over landing hard on his back with an audible exhalation as the wind was knocked from his lungs. Ralac staggered to his feet still clutching his eye. Gemini reached down grasping him under the arm and hauled him to the back of the mare.
“Gem?” A gentle voice caught the attention of the mage as he prepared to flee. Standing on the porch steps was Nerielle a confused look in her questioning eyes as she glanced from mage to fire and back.
“Truly sorry, milady, but at the moment I am as confused as you!” He shouted over the roar of the now totally engulfed stable and the shouts of men on the fire line trying to contain the blaze. He reached in his cloak and removed a small pouch from an interior pocket. He tossed the pouch to the tall dark haired beauty with the bright green eyes.
“That will cover the damage, fair lady.” He moved forward and kicked the hammer wielding man under the chin. The man promptly dropped face first into the dirt.
“Please see he is compensated also!” He looked back as a contingent of watchmen rounded the corner at a full run with buckets in hand.
“Truly! I’m sorry!” Then he spurred the mare and galloped off into the night.
Upon the steps of the Silver Bite, Nerielle opened the pouch using the light of the fire to see the contents. The pouch was half full with sparkling green emeralds, a king’s ransom in gems. The stable collapsed in upon itself sending a wave of glowing cinders into the dark night. Nerielle slid down the wall clutching her knees to her chest still unsure if she would soon awake next to the graceful elf or if this nightmare had been all too real.
In the months that passed there were stories told by travelers stopping at the now sprawling Silver Bite Lodge of an elven mage with gold streaked hair and a patch eyed young man that traveled the countryside, hunting foul creatures that threatened the land and its people.

^ ^ ^

Stingara was pleased. The All Mother was indeed all knowing and all seeing. The mistress of the night and all that occurred during it found her first new worshiper. Skilled as an assassin but full of good intentions the young man she had found would serve as a perfect example for the worshipers that would follow him. Soon, due to her gentle manipulations, he and his elven companion would run across the trio Anghar had become so enamored with. Then, when they met, she would instill within them all a feeling of kindred. They would fight beside one another as if they were born to do so.
As Anghar had voiced to her his desire to see Darkon rise to the stature of his father, Stingara saw an opportunity. By having Ralac join in Darkon’s adventures the two would hopefully become comrades and as the son of the Black Tiger rose to his fated position, her own favorite would stand beside him. Thus ensuring her own prominence among the ranks of the new Demonslayer people. Never again would she allow her followers to become as they had before.
Even though, throughout time all Demonslayers were as equals and were always brethren, there had ever been an obvious difference in the treatment of Stingara’s followers. Many of her followers were thieves, assassins and dealers in darker trades and it was they who often dirtied their hands on deeds no other would or could. Misunderstood and often forgotten were her heroes, but no longer. She would see that Ralac quashed all that and set a new pecking order. Through time Ralac would gain in skill and wisdom and then Stingara would show him her ways. No mortal could ever resist her, she knew, so the only obstacle to her now was time. Time, of course, was nothing to a goddess.


CHAPTER 18
FATED BY NIGHT


After a week of traveling, Darkon, Galen and Graton had fallen into a quiet routine. The night watch was Darkon always first and Graton ever the last. Graton caught the morning meals and Galen prepared them. Darkon meanwhile tended the steeds and packed away their belongings. All three rode brown mares that were of average size and timid demeanor. The horses had been bought quite cheaply since they were aging and skittish. Sometimes it was only Graton's elven sensibilities that kept them from bolting at every odd occurrence.
The land was at first fairly clear, sparse forest giving ground to flat plains. The plains would never last more than a few miles before another copse of trees broke the horizon. On three different occasions small villages they passed by on their way, not stopping even when small children ran out to greet them. Conversation was often limited to Galen describing his homeland and its politics. He knew that no citizen would ever relish the taking of his father’s throne so there would be an easy route to the palace of Mastalon as long as the folk weren’t held under martial law. They discussed what trails to take so as not to forewarn Satar of their coming and what homes might take them in if they needed a place to hide. The main concern to Galen was how many of his father’s guards and soldiers had been replaced and how they would react to his reappearance.
Darkon, through much of this, was often silent. He still mourned the loss of his love and inside him stewed a grief that threatened to consume his spirit. When he spoke it was usually of his anticipation for the battle to come. Graton often tried to speak to him with comforting words. Reminding him that Sevele was in a better place but Darkon was sure that better place was with him.
So they journeyed, grim and determined and another week neared its finish. Another seven days and the kingdom of Genossia would be reached and two more after that the palace and city of Mastalon. Darkon's manner had not lightened especially when an ugly pair of ogres blocked their path. The creatures were near ten feet in height and their naturally massive build made them resemble huge outcrops of rock. In their hands were massive wooden clubs seemingly carved individually from tree trunks, yet still, the fight didn’t last long.
Darkon charged his steed forward at first sight of the beasts and aimed for the closest one. The ogre chuckled deeply thinking the human had lost control of his horse for no human had ever run toward him. As he closed to within a tree length of it Darkon stood nimbly in his saddle and changed his arm from flesh to steel, startling the ogre into inaction. Allowing the force of his horse’s charge to do the rest he impaled the ogre’s skull with his bladed arm. He nearly fell from his steed from the impact but he clung onto its mane in desperation. The ogre fell dead at its comrade’s feet its blood spraying out with the final beatings of its heart.
Graton summoned his glowing spear and launched it at the second beast while Galen followed Darkon's lead. The prince thanked elven accuracy as the spear hissed past his head and struck the huge creature in the stomach. Distracted by the sudden pain it did not see Galen jump from his saddle and hew at its treelike leg. Magically strong the blade severed the leg just below the knee causing the dumbfounded ogre to topple sideways and then directly onto the spear that impaled