The Darkslayer: Book 01 - Wrath of the Royals by Craig Halloran Read Free Book Online

commander shrug and walk back into the tent. No one seemed to be dispatched to find more guards.
    Yes!
    Despite his better judgment he chose to wait it out, chancing that there was little likelihood of anyone coming in his direction again. Inside the tent, the meeting was heating up. It was being conducted in human tongue, but he did not hear Jarla’s voice. The doggish voice of a gnoll was in control. Billip pulled his hair behind his ear, after flicking a mosquito from his nose. The tones were low, but he could still hear through the thick canvas of the tent. Excitement was rising in the voices of the commanders, followed by cruel laughter. He heard something he could never have anticipated. The ambition and evil plans of Jarla and her commanders … and it did not bode well for humans. He learned something else was behind the army’s exploits that he found incomprehensible.
    Oh no!
    The meeting began to unwind; the savvy scout had no time to waste. He rolled out of the tents shadow and made his way back to the campsite.
    It can’t be!

 
     
CHAPTER 9
     
    “Mikkel …” he whispered, poking the snoring man in the ribs, “Wake up!”
    Mikkel sat up as if he’d been shot, his black bearded face groggy and perturbed. Chongo stirred at his side, greeting him with a few licks.
    “You’d better have a good reason, Billip. I was dreaming of my woman and those dreams don’t come often in this stinkin’ camp. What’s going on?”
    “Listen to me; we’re in danger.”
    “Me? Why’s Me in danger?”
    “Not Mee-legal . You—me, and especially Venir. Now get your gear ready and don’t make it obvious.”
    The big man shook his head as he rolled out of his army blanket. Billip watched as Mikkel fumbled around the tent and pulled on his boots. He began cracking his thick knuckles in a chronic cadence. Mikkel’s large hands clamped down on his and then continued rounding up his gear.
    “Billip,” Mikkel said, staring down in his eyes, “… tell me what you heard, brother. You’re worrying me.”
    “Okay, but keep calm; I know how you get. Hear me out.”
    Mikkel gave a faint nod.
    “I just listened in on one of the commanders’ tent meetings. They’re planning to attack Outpost Thirty-One in the next few days and—”
    “There ain’t no way!” the warrior was almost shouting. “Outpost Thirty-One has a thousand well-armed soldiers of the Royal house legions.”
    “Keep your voice down,” Billip motioned. “Let me finish. They already have help; over two thousand strong are waiting to help sack the outpost—”
    “—Even with that many it’ll be hard to take. They’ll have to starve them out, and by then help will have arrived. Besides, no one just attacks a Royal army outpost. It would be suicide— an act of war. Even gnolls and orcs don’t have the numbers to face the humans when you come down to it.” Mikkel sighed, stuffing everything in a sack and looking uncertain what to do.
    Billip nodded.
    “Let me finish, again ; it’s not orcs or gnolls or humans or dwarfs or striders or even halflings for that matter.”
    Billip paused, raising an arched brow. Mikkel was giving him a funny look. Billip waited, watching his friend scratch his cheek.
    Mikkel’s eyes brightened, something flicked on in his mind, smacking his hands together he said, “Ogres!”
    “…No Mikkel, not ogres, worse. Worse than all of them combined,” he said through clenched teeth.
    “Will you just tell me?” Mikkel said, loading his crossbow.
    “If you’d just let me finish you’d know by now.”
    “Well, if you’d quit arguing, maybe I’d let you finish.”
    “We got more important things to do now than have another stupid argument.”
    Mikkel was chuckling now as he plucked a straggling hair from his head and blew it in the air.
    “Since when?”
    An odd silence fell as Mikkel looked at Billip with a blank stare. He’s as dumb as Venir. The archer caved in.
    “Underlings—you idiot! Jarla’s brigand