Beyond the Dark Gate

by R. V. Johnson

  LOSS OF STEEDS

  With his great sword slick from the sweat of his palm and blood splatters, Garn tossed it from his bloody right hand toward his left. Spinning, he grabbed the familiar handle as it hung in the air and followed through with his Bear Swipes Deer stance, using the momentum of his spin and the sword form’s downward slash design to cut into the beetle’s carapace. His arm sank in the creature’s oily black blood, splashing him to the elbow. He gave a silent curse, wiping his free hand on his leg, though he’d covered it with the vile substance from his previous wipes. The boulder beetles tended to fountain when their hard shells were penetrated.

  “Everyone!” General Karnas bellowed. “Back up Garn. He seems capable of killing the blasted things without wearing himself down to a pair of dangling, useless arms. Most of you carry swords, not hammers, follow his example!”

  Screeching, sounding as if two rocks had scraped together, a huge beetle barreled toward a soldier chopping at another beetle. The creature’s mandibles opened and closed in anticipation, coming at the man from behind him.

  Jumping ahead, Garn cut the pincers from the thing with two quick strokes, keeping his sword well away from the scissor-like claws. He’d seen the mandibles slice through armor with ease. Without them, the creatures could only knock someone over and attempt to flatten them under their weight, which was unlikely as lumbering as they were. Most of the men wore plate armor that should withstand the smaller ones’ bulk.

  Garn let it go. Careening through its mates; it knocked them side to side, upending a half- dozen as it headed straight for the burial cairn Jade had climbed when the beetles had attacked. Captain Bozlun stood beside her, perhaps as protection, yet the blasted fool still had his scimitar sheathed.

  Most of the beetles, even those assailing him, reversed direction, spreading out behind the big beetle, moving toward the cairn.

  A sea of swaying blacktop boulders stood between him and his daughter. Blast me! Why wasn’t I watching how far I was getting from her?

  Garn leapt upon the top shell of a beetle and then jumped to another as soon as his boot made contact. In two strides, he was dashing across the bubbling black sea, using beetle shells as stepping-stones. His adrenaline rose with his fear. He wasn’t going to get there first.

  A rock slammed into the lead beetle.

  A quick glance showed him Jade had thrown it as she launched another. Good girl, Garn thought, pumping his legs harder. I need more time.

  The huge beetle suddenly veered, taking the crowd south with it.

  With a few additional jumps, Garn landed at the base of the cairn. He scrambled to the top, heedless of the sharp clatters of sliding rock as he spun to face the enemy at the cairn’s top, keeping Jade behind him.

  Captain Bozlun moved to the edge, away from him. “They return to their lairs.”

  Garn took no chance. Though their spidery legs carried them away at a fair pace, they could change direction at any time. He kept his sword raised until the last of the boulder beetles vanished inside the dark holes scattered on both sides of the narrow pass. Only then did he slip it into the sheath at his back.

  Dropping the rock she held, Jade moved to his side. “You were amazing,” she said, her voice low.

  Even so, Garn shot a glance at Captain Bozlun. Though the man seemed absorbed with watching the pass, he kept their subterfuge, speaking at a normal tone. “My training included many sword forms designed for multiple foes.”

  “Well, the beetles certainly qualified as multiple.” Jade spoke normally.

  Garn was proud how fast she caught on. “I must commend you, my lady. Throwing those rocks was quick thinking.”

  Jade flashed a smile.

  Captain Bozlun’s snort of disdain was loud. “One has to wonder why those you protect would have to make such a feeble attempt at defense. Is not a guardian’s place but at his charge’s side?”

  Garn took a step back, putting himself between Jade and the captain. “If you wish to state something of importance, do so, or remain silent.”

  Captain Bozlun’s brown eyes hardened. “You dare speak so to me? I am captain.”

  “So you are, but you are not my captain. I answer to your great lord.”

  “As long as you ride with my regiment, you ride under my direction,” General Karnas said, climbing the low end of the cairn. He halted beside Garn, though he regarded his soldier. “Captain Bozlun, you, however, follow my command. Retain your provocations for your men, or I may choose another to carry your title. This man saved many lives.”

  Open-faced, the helm Captain Bozlun wore was a good fit. It remained in place as he inclined his helm forward and then back with a sharp jerk of his neck. “Noted,” he muttered.

  General Karnas paused. His full helm made his face unreadable. Two black steel mesh screens allowed him a wide vision, and a slit cut in the helm at the mouth permitted vocals, which gave one the illusion of interacting with a machine. Yet the general carried the air of living command, which exuded partly from the helm’s blankness, from the look of no expression whenever the black metallic eyes fell upon him. Garn imagined the dark polished steel had its original design intended for such a purpose. “Adhere to your duty. Gather a report of the men and horses lost, organize the burial,” the general added.

  Again, Captain Bozlun inclined his head, slower this time. “As the general so commands.” Navigating a rocky path, he half-slid, half-strode, to the bottom and then made his way to a large group of soldiers already piling rocks on one side of the pass, creating a wide pit—the final resting place for the fallen.

  General Karnas removed his helm. Close-cropped white hair topped his flat nose and sunken, but lively, light blue eyes. A groomed, silvery-gray beard added a wizened look to the man. He regarded Garn with a sweep of his eyes, avoiding looking at Jade, which Garn found curious.

  “You fought well for a mercenary. Every other one I have known has fought only for a single paid service and does not work well in groups. Several of my men owe their lives to you, though they are not even aware of it,” the general said, the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes speculative.

  Garn watched for the minute signs of subterfuge in the man, a tic at the corner of an eye, a quick glance away and then back, perhaps a subtle rigidity in the stance. There was none. “Your soldiers owe me nothing. Battling those creatures required every man. Most were unprepared with how to accomplish a kill, however. Have they not fought them in the past?”

  General Karnas strode to the top edge of the cairn, gazing upon his regiment as he spoke. “There has never been a need. Rock beetles are docile creatures, content to feed from the fungi growing on and around rocks, in damp shady areas. This type of behavior may well be a first for them, and it troubles me.” Looking over a shoulder, he set a sharp eye upon him. “You, however, fought the beetles with some success. Tell me, are such attacks a common occurrence where you hail from?”

  Garn met the man’s gaze, recalling a job not long ago the Alchemist had taken him and the henchman Codar on, before moving into the Citadel. That one had consisted of a one-way escort into the desert for the previous owner of the Old Town Coliseum’s topaz gateway. That man’s eyes—someone he would likely never know the name of—had been much the same color and vibrancy as General Karnas’ eyes.

  Codar had extinguished the spark from them on the hooded man’s orders. Yet another reason, of many, to kill the Alchemist. “Not these kind, sand beetles are quite numerous on the outskirts of Gray Dust; they are a higher threat there. They travel at greater speeds. The white ones are the deadliest,” Garn replied.

  General Karnas gave a slight nod. “So I’ve heard. All the same, the black ones are a nonaggressive species. Something drew them from their lairs… or should I say someone.” He turned, sweeping a meaningful eye upon Jade.

  Jade’s round green eyes grew wide. “Me?”

  Garn was surprised. “What makes you say that?”


  General Karnas continued to regard her even as he replied. “They moved straight for her until we got in their way. As some died or were hit with grievous injury, they broke off the attack, charging for her once again.”

  Garn knew he was right, though he had to scoff it off and keep the man from asking too many questions. “Perhaps. It might be the reason the great lord wishes her taken beyond the Dark Gate, without harm. I would not think to question the great one, nor will I fail my charge.” Garn spoke the latter sentence in a milder tone but with conviction.

  General Karnas eyed him again and then placed his helm upon his head, sliding it over his face with a practiced ease. “No need for the stark reminder. I, too, gave my word to the great lord. The young woman will arrive safely at the Citadel, or we shall all die protecting her. For now, desert man, know that you have garnered some small measure of my gratitude.”

  Garn was spared a reply as a soldier trotted up, halting below the general. He wore black chain armor with no helm. “Captain Bozlun sends his report, General.”

  An imposing figure, General Karnas stood at ease, his gauntleted hands resting casually on the pommels of the two long swords sheathed at his hips. “Before you begin, soldier, answer this question: Has Captain Bozlun viewed the state of your report personally or has he commanded it passed on through you?”

  The soldier’s face paled, seeming odd for a man of his stature. Most all in the regiment of soldiers were tall and sported obvious muscle. General Karnas had chosen the best. “He directed me to you, Sir.”

  “I see. What are our losses then? Speak, man, don’t keep me in suspense.”

  The soldier flushed, returning color to his skin. “Nine men and two steeds have perished, my lord.”

  Garn was again surprised. “Only two horses? Are you certain?”

  With his dark eyes fixed on the general, the soldier ignored him.

  General Karnas shifted his stance, his back gaining some rigidness. “Are you daft, man? Our friend asked a question.”

  The soldier jumped at the harsh words and then gave a slight bow of his head. “My apologies… friend. Horse Master Jerrol led the mounts back the way we came when the first of the boulder beetles struck.”

  Garn nodded. “Jerrol is to be commended. The loss of horses is a delay I cannot allow.”

  The soldier shifted his weight from his right to his left foot. “There is something else I detest to mention, but duty requires it.”

  “Out with it, man, we have much to accomplish before day’s end,” General Karnas commanded.

  “A horse and rider are unaccounted for.”

  “Who?” Garn asked.

  The soldier looked to the general, who waved impatiently. “Scot, Sir.”

  “How well do you both know him?” Garn asked.

  “Less than a season, Sir, though he’s performed exemplary with his duties until this point,” the soldier replied with no hesitation this time.

  Rage had darkened the general’s features. He controlled it with difficulty. “Scot saved my life more than once. I personally chose him for several missions, though it means naught now. Desertion and cowardice is punishable by death. Send two men to bring him back, kill him if he resists. Bring me his sword either way.”

  The soldier bowed. “Your command will be done. There is one final matter, Sir, if you will. Captain Sammon died protecting the horses. Captain Bozlun wishes to salvage his plate armor.”

  General Karnas began his trek down from the cairn. “We shall reclaim the plate for certain, Captain Adonal, but I think you shall don it. Your new designation has a nice sound to it, does it not?” he asked, striding past the soldier. “Come with me. We go to inform Captain Bozlun that our newly promoted Captain Adonal is going to don plate armor. I do like the sound of that.” The general’s words drifted in the air after them.

  Garn motioned Jade to join him at the edge. His daughter seemed so frightened, the shock from the revelation the beetles were hunting her apparent in the brightness of her eyes and the slight quiver to her lips. Garn had to restrain himself from giving her a reassuring squeeze. Someone was always watching.

  They started down the mound. The regiment would be mounting soon. Though Garn was careful not to show it, he wasn’t happy with the amount of steeds remaining in the company. Those left meant the number of men he had to contend with was still high, though the unexpected desertion removed three others for a time. He would’ve preferred to insist upon leaving men behind from the loss of steeds to ride rather than have them die.

  Now he would have to find a way to kill them.

  Killing was a distasteful part of his job of keeping Jade away from the Dark Citadel. Garn would not allow that to happen, even if he had to let his youngest daughter see the cold violence he was capable of, and soon. Nightfall was coming.

  EVERYONE ALIVE

  Afraid that fatigue had made her hear wrong, Crystalyn stared up at the Valen man. Sweat glistened on his hairless bare chest and arms, but his breathing was steady even though he’d run uphill to the old quarry. “Why are they withdrawing? Have they caught on to my ruse?”

  Whipping his long golden hair back and forth, he shook his large narrow head. “We do not believe so, Sarra’esiah.”

  “There’s that word again. What does it mean?”

  Sureen answered. “Translated roughly it means ‘Star Savior’ in the common tongue. To the Vale people, it likely means ‘savior beyond the stars.’ or something similar.” Her mother stood beside her, next to the fallen evergreen tree the Dark Users had broken two days ago. Had that many days passed already?

  The adage she’d penned from medical school slipped into her mind. Wear the right emotional mask and people will respond. Crystalyn put on her stern instructor face. “I am no one’s savior, Vale man; I cannot even get through to rescue my sister with that blasted army in the way. What do I call you?”

  The Valen’s blue eyes were troubled, the corners of his broad mouth pulling down as he frowned. At least, they were normal and not glowing like some underground white phosphorescent plant or something, just big. “RaCorren, Sarra’esiah,” he finally said.

  Atoi laughed. Lying prone below the ledge overlooking the valley, the little girl clamped a tiny hand over her mouth to keep the sound of her mocking laughter from carrying below.

  Crystalyn sighed. “Fine, RaCorren. Do your scouts have any idea why the enemy hasn’t chased them to the meadow below the cliff? How are we supposed to bombard them with arrows and magic if they don’t go where they’re supposed to go?”

  RaCorren’s fine eyebrows drooped with puzzlement. “The enemy withdraws, Sarra’esiah,” he repeated.

  “Is this true Do’brieni?”

  “The enemy has pulled back to the Vale.”

  “I suppose it’s possible they only wanted the Vale from the start,” Hastel mused. He spoke over his shoulder, keeping his vigilant watch hidden inside the dying, but still green, branches of the fallen evergreen. “This is the second time the Vale has sustained an attack, though not like this, it cannot survive, too much has been put to the fire or blown apart. The Vibrant Vale is no more.”

  Concealed under the tree, Crystalyn stared at the blackened forest of the great faluns; most had burned through the night. Now within the golden evening light of spring’s end and summer’s beginning, the great falun trees smoldered, sending great plumes of gray smoke to blanket the land. All were hundreds of seasons old. The sight sickened her to no end, elevating her ire and impatience. Two days, and she still hadn’t found a way to Jade.

  Crystalyn had brought those capable of long-range retaliation to the old quarry with the hope of weakening the enemy and allowing Jade the opportunity to escape, while delaying pursuit as the refugees slipped over the mountain ridge, something the enemy may not expect. An unnecessary hardship now, it seemed.

  Her anger grew alongside a frustrated sense of running out of time. Jade was in danger, lost somewhere down
there. At least Durandas had someone going after her. She’d been heartened when he’d told her, though no word had come since that contacting. The First Light did not believe it safe to attempt another exchange so soon. When she caught up to the white-robed man as he led the refugees away, that was going to change.

  Even though Crystalyn knew frequent attempts ran the risk of Dark Users breaking into the contacting, perhaps implanting something vile, like the mind worm she’d cleaned from Lore Rayna; she’d done it once, she could do it again. Crystalyn shivered thinking about it. Never was too soon to have to battle one of those again, but she would if it meant reaching her sister. Why had they pulled back?

  “Why destroy the Vale?” she snapped to no one in particular. “Why not overrun it and keep it as a stronghold? Was the Vale so great a threat that the Dark Citadel felt compelled to ravage it to the ground at such great expense? They’ve taken heavy casualties and not just in lives lost. Those burning creations must have cost a lot of the Flow to create.”

  “Each one drained the life from thirteen Interrupters,” Kara Laurel said, the tone of her voice grim. Carefully keeping her bandaged thigh from touching the ground, she slid down the small slope to the quarry pit. Blood spotted the white gauze at the center as she picked her way forward, though none leaked down her bare leg.

  As soon as they’d found Lore Rayna, Hastel had pulled the bolt from Kara Laurel’s leg unceremoniously while she was unconscious. Lore Rayna had then given what healing she could. Now it was up to Crystalyn to complete the healing, but she’d been too busy causing a retreat, it seemed.

  Pushing a branch out of the way with her staff, Sureen joined Kara Laurel as the woman halted near Crystalyn. “What do you know about Dark Users and their Interrupters? Where have you been, Kara?” Sureen asked without preamble.

  Kara Laurel opened her mouth to speak, but Crystalyn held up a hand. “RaCorren, do you still possess the strength to carry a message?”

  “My strength has not yet truly been tapped, Sarra’esiah. Your wish is my command.”