Revenge Of The Elf (Book 1) (2 page)

“You know who I am,” Talek said eventually.

It wasn't a question, but Raste shrugged in reply. “Yeah. Been looking for you for a while. Some folks said you'd headed north. Had about given up on finding you. Can you imagine how surprised I was to find you were out here all along? Right on the path we were heading down to begin with? Hadn't really believed you'd gone north anyway. Heard you don't even like Fnords.”

“Nothing against them, really,” he said. “Just don't like their food is all.”

“I'll ask again. She around? Hiding inside?”

The scarred elf shook his head, relishing the chimney's warmth as it spread into his shoulders. Saw no reason to lie. “Went to Highwall. Head back the way you came. You'll find a crossroads. Take a left. Couple hours, depending how fast you walk. She'll be in the inn. From there, good luck to you.”

The nervous kid gave a surprised giggle. “Don't like her much?”

“Love her more than life,” Talek said simply.

“Can't love her that much if you'd tell us where she is,” the kid sneered. “Know what I'd do to her?”

Talek's smile lacked warmth. “Know what she'd do to you, is all.”

The kid, eager to impress the group with his bravado, took a half-step forward. Rubbed his crotch as he cooed; “She'd warm my cock all night.”

“Sure would,” Talek agreed mildly. “Over a small fire. Probably eat it in the morning if she were hungry.”

The little elf snarled and made to step forward but was blocked by Raste's firm arm. “Step down, Doket,” the red-haired elf growled. “Now.”

“Good kid,” Talek commented. “Got him toilet trained, yet?”

Raste's answering smile was icy and his eyes glittered. “Heard you've got a sense of humour, Talek. That's good. You're going to need it. Reckon you should know why we're here. Here to collect something is all. And I reckon you know what it is. So. How about we skip all the bullshit where you fuck me around and I let my boys do what they do best until you tell me everything I want to know? Make it easy on yourself, Talek. Tell me. You got it on you? Tell me where the box is.”

“You're in for a disappointing day, Raste,” he said, his voice soft. “I ain't one to open up.”

CHAPTER TWO

The words had barely left his lips when fear bloomed wildly inside him.

The box.

He could see it in his mind.

Big enough to fit snugly in the palm of his hand. Seamless, and with no visible lock. Dark wood bound by thick metal straps. What it contained was a mystery his family had protected for generations.

His father told him many stories when he was a child. Family legends guessing at the box's contents.

The key to a city of gold.

The finger of one of the long-vanquished Vampire Kings.

The last breath of a dying god.

Many nights he sat with his father around the family hearth, staring at the box. Mesmerised by the alien runes scorched into the wood. What did they mean?

When he was young he'd been desperate to understand them. But now he was older, it didn't matter. Whatever lay inside wasn't important. All that mattered was it should be kept safe It must never be opened, his father told him.

Over and over.

Earnestly repeating what had been passed down from father to son for centuries.

Never open it.

It must remain hidden.

He looked into Raste's burning eyes and believed in nothing else. “It ain't here.”

“It better be,” Raste said. “Or you're a dead man.”

Talek laughed. And was momentarily pleased to see it rattled them. The young one, Doket, shuffled on his feet. He'd be easy to rile, Talek thought absently.

“Dead man?” he held up a twisted hand. “Open your eyes, you stupid son of a bitch. I'm already deader than a fucking three-day corpse. Just ain't fallen over yet.”

“We can do worse than kill you,” one of the others said coolly. He slid an ugly hooked knife from its sheath and held it up. The blade glinted. “Get my meaning?”

Despite fear peeling apart his insides, Talek grinned. “Boy, you ever tried to piss through a cock that's been burnt to a fucking stump? It ain't easy. And it hurts more than anything you can do to me. Every fucking day.”

“Figure I like that challenge. Bet you I can make you scream louder than you ever screamed before.”

“I doubt that,” the elf drawled. “But stick around 'til my wife gets home. She'll teach you how it's really done.”

“Enough!” Raste boomed. He charged onto the porch and grabbed Talek by the shirt. “Tell me where it is! If you tell me, I'll kill you quick. End your pain. End everything. I mean, what the fuck, Talek? You got nothing to live for. King Jutta turned his back on you when you were no use to him anymore. Why protect him? And others like him? With the box, I can make a difference. I promise you, all those who turned away from you will die. I'll give you that.”

“You think I want revenge?” Talek blinked. “For what?”

“Look at you.”

“I'd rather not. I look like shit.”

“They tossed you aside! You stood in front of a Caspiellan spellslinger as he torched the fucking palace to ashes! You stopped him in front of the King himself. Killed him, too. And what you get for it? Nothing. They kicked you out on your ear for offending Jutta with your new good looks.”

“So?” he shrugged. “I'd have done the same. What good am I to him like this? The palace doesn't need doorstops.”

“You're lying.”

And he was. A cold ball of hate rested in his guts. It simmered there every day since he'd left Lostlight.

They'd used him. Used him until he was no good to them anymore. Then, without even a soldier's pension, they pushed him aside. Because his scars made the King feel guilty. Guilty for hiding behind the throne like a frightened child.

Not that Talek blamed him for that. If he could go back, he probably would have hidden behind the throne, too. But for afterwards. For avoiding him. For refusing even to look at him.

None in the palace would offer anything more than muttered regrets before distancing themselves from him for fear of offending the King.

Only Nysta had stayed by his side.

Even followed him from the city, forsaking the guild which had nurtured her.

Poor girl.

His pity for her could never end.

He sighed. “Maybe. But it ain't for you, kid. That box was meant to be protected from people just like you. And you can cut me up like a fucking jigsaw all day and I won't tell you shit.”

Raste shook his head impatiently. “Stubborn bastard,” he growled. “Fenis. Doket. Get inside. Find that box. Rest of you start looking around. Torak, you take the barn.”

The handsome blonde elf looked surprised. “The barn?”

“You gone deaf?”

“But, Raste, I-”

“The fucking barn, Torak! Move! Doket! What the fuck are you waiting for? Get inside!”

Talek threw him an offended look. “I look like a dumb fuck? It ain't in there.”

“Raste?” Fenis raised an eyebrow.

“Inside!” screamed the red-haired elf.

The two pushed into the house without further argument and all but one of the other elfs wandered off with shrugs and low mutters.

“We can't do much to you,” Raste said calmly, as though the rage had all been an act. “But you think about her, Talek. You think about what we can do to her. Nine of us, Talek. Tubal here, he doesn't know what gentle even means. And the twins? Well, they cum as a pair, if you get me? Know what they call us? They call us the Bloody Nine. We were at Logen's Run, Talek. Heard of that? We'll tear her apart.”

Talek's eyes narrowed. The Musa'Jadean were a proud and elite guild. They specialised in moving behind enemy lines. Their mobility was legendary and few guilds could claim to be more expert in the art of killing.

The fact they were trained by the shadowy assassins of the Jukkala'Jadean guaranteed them a reputation for ruthlessness and efficiency.

A reputation which was exceeded at Logen's Run, where stories of a rogue squad of Musa'Jadean had surfaced. Hideous stories of torture and depravity fuelled the horror tales and while many grubby thugs in the Deadlands claimed some kind of tie to the infamous squad and its mysterious leader, Talek had no doubts Raste spoke the truth.

“Shame she ain't here now,” Tubal said softly. Talek liked him even less than the others. In his years as a soldier, he'd met all kinds. This kind was the worst. They didn't so much love the killing as the pain they caused.

They lived to hear the screams which were music to their crazed minds.

Broad of shoulder and taller than Raste, he carried an evil-looking axe like it weighed nothing. He dragged his forearm across his greasy lips and spat in direction of the cat as it crept off the porch to stand looking up at him.

It watched the spit fall short.

The soldier's grin was like cracked glass. “I could do with a whole different kind of pussy.”

“Try over there,” Talek jerked his head toward the goats. “They look more your type.”

“Think you're a funny cunt, don't you?”

Talek shrugged.

The axe flashed as it cleaved the little ginger cat in half before burying itself in the hard earth. Tubal jerked the massive axe free and gave it a shake to clean the blade of gore.

Hate drilled through Talek's chest and exploded behind his eyes, but though he could see the sword leaning unnoticed against the rail, he knew he'd have no chance to grab it. Knew he couldn't move fast enough to catch a snail let alone take two professional soldiers by surprise.

So he glared at the large elf, burying it inside. “Didn't have to do that.”

“What it gets for getting too close,” the large elf smirked. “You know what they say. Curiosity killed the cat, yeah?”

“Quit fucking around,” the red-haired elf said. “Just look around back. Check on the others. Make sure they're lifting every fucking stone.”

“We're wasting our time. We should be heading south already. Not pissing about over some fucking fairytale trinket.”

“It ain't a fairytale!” Raste hissed. “It's real. Just look around, Tubal!”

“He probably buried it. It's what I'd do. We could dig up this whole fucking valley and still won't find shit. They won't wait for us, Raste. And if we're late, it won't matter what information we've got, we'll never be Accepted. We don't have time for this.”

“Make time!”

Doket emerged from the house, a disgusted expression on his face. “There ain't shit in there. It's fucking empty. Hardly even a fucking spoon. Place reminds me of a cell.”

“Like the goatfucker said,” Talek grinned. “You're wasting your time.”

“Let me cut him,” Fenis lifted the hooked knife.

Raste grabbed hold of Talek's matted hair and jerked hard. “Where. Is. It?”

“Up. Your. Ass.”

Raste held the scarred elf's gaze tightly for a moment before shoving him back. “Fuck!” He spun away, bounding off the porch and kicking a few stones. Grunted as he nearly trod in the cat's remains. “Fuck!”

“Didn't think this through, did you?” Talek asked gently. “Ain't much you can threaten a cripple like me with.”

Fenis's tongue flicked out. “Raste?”

“Yeah?” he glanced over his shoulder. Caught Fenis's questioning look. “Yeah. Go on. Whatever. But don't kill him. I want him to talk first.”

Smirking, the elf pressed his hook blade against Talek's cheek. “Want you to know something,” he breathed. “I ain't feeling sorry for you. All burned up to a crisp like that. Means you weren't good enough. You don't deserve pity. You're a loser, Talek. Ain't worth shit in my book. So, I won't be gentle on you just because a few peasants in Lostlight think you're some kind of hero.”

The scarred elf held Fenis's gaze. “Oh, I don't mind, lad.” Jerked his head toward Doket. “I can take it. Besides, I reckon you save being gentle for him on those cold nights out under the stars.”

“What he say?” Doket frowned.

The hook knife pressed against Talek's cheek, drawing a slick ribbon of blood. “Say it again.”

“No need to get all excited, lads. Maybe my first impression was wrong. But you both look like more than just friends, you know? And there ain't nothing wrong with that. Out here, it's only natural to feel lonely,” Talek's grin made his scarred face look even more monstrous despite the cheerfulness of his words. “Don't be ashamed about it, fellers. Each to their own. Free world and all that. Be all you can be, right?”

Fenis struggled with Talek's seeming lack of fear. “We ain't-”

“Piece of fucking shit! What you say? Say it again! Say it a-fucking-gain! I'll pull that fucking tongue out your fucking head!” Doket lashed out with his boot at Talek's damaged thigh. The impact made him groan, but he grit his teeth and grinned through the pain.

“Doket!” Raste warned. “Back down. I want him alive.”

Scowling down at Talek, Fenis reached an arm out to grab the little elf's elbow. “He's just trying to get to you, Doket. Don't let him.”

Talek let the smirk grease his face. “Take his advice, kid,” he wheezed. “Should always listen to your husband.”

“You-” Doket roared, his fist slamming hard into Talek's jaw.

The damaged elf felt his head crack hard against the chimney. Stars shattered behind his eyes. He twisted in his seat, his body twitching as reflex tried to dominate his actions. The second fist exploded into his temple.

He tasted iron.

“-Fucker!”

“Doket!” Raste lurched up the stairs and threw the little elf away, tossing him down the stairs. Doket landed badly and rolled across the ground before pulling himself to his feet in an enraged tangle. Raste followed fast, stabbing a finger at Doket's chest. “When I fucking tell you to back down, you back the fuck down! You got me?”

Fenis leaned in close. “You're gonna pay for what you said.”

“I get it wrong again?” he said, blood bubbling over his lips. His voice barely scraped above the sound of the frozen wind curling around the house. “Sorry. I never was a good judge of character. Didn't mean to offend. Just. He's just a kid, you know? A little boy. Barely out of his mama's apron. Must be hardly fifteen. Figured you were the man, Fenis. Thought it was you ramming your dick up his ass. But you the bitch, right? You like the taste of that little boy's cock? Like it when he slides it into your mouth? Yeah. You look the type. Can see you love the taste of a little boy's cum on your t-”