The Legend of the Gate Keeper Anthology: The Shadow, Land of Shadows, Siege of Night, Lost Empire, Reborn, The Trials of Ashbarn, End of Days

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The Legend of the Gate Keeper Anthology: The Shadow, Land of Shadows, Siege of Night, Lost Empire, Reborn, The Trials of Ashbarn, End of Days Page 1

by Jeff Gunzel




  The Legend of the Gate Keeper Anthology

  Copyright 2016 Jeff Gunzel

  Table of Contents

  The Shadow

  Land of Shadows

  Siege of Night

  Lost Empire

  Reborn

  The Trials of Ashbarn

  End of Days

  Books by Jeff Gunzel

  The Legend of the Gate Keeper Series

  The Shadow

  Land of Shadows

  Siege of Night

  Lost Empire

  Reborn

  The Trials of Ashbarn

  End of Days

  Tainted Blood Series

  A Rip in Time

  Of Blood and Blade

  The Shadow

  Chapter 1

  Lightning crackled across the western sky, the flash briefly revealing a glimpse of the jagged mountain peaks, many still capped with snow and ice, but it was too dark to see. After a few moments, a slow, rolling thunder rumbled through the night. The storm was still several miles away, but it would arrive soon enough. Leaves rustling in the trees quivered towards the east as the winds picked up sharply.

  A low fire crackled away, its flickering light sending shadows dancing around the camp—an ever-changing, uneven light that made the trees themselves appear as if they were closing in. It was best not to pay attention to it. The darkness could play horrible tricks on a person’s mind, especially after being alone out here for months at a time.

  The fire popped and fizzed, sending a flurry of orange sparks swirling upward toward the night sky. The stranger ignored it, concentrating on the live grasshopper he held between two fingers. Carefully pinching the head, he pulled it out and down at a slight angle. The head pulled loose, stomach still attached. He threw them aside, then added the headless grasshopper to a pile of ten or so. One at a time, he slid them down a thin piece of wire, then held the wire over the open flame.

  His stomach growled while he eyed the steaming insects, the legs already beginning to turn black. “Just a little longer,” he mumbled to himself. Showing as much discipline as he could, he continued to turn them over the fire until the whole feast was nearly black. Burning them to a crisp was the only way to ensure he wouldn’t get sick.

  Still plenty hot, he slid them off one at a time. He crunched away greedily, mouth wide open letting some of the steam filter out. They were so burnt they tasted like ash, but that didn’t matter. This was the first thing he’d eaten today, and he relished every bite.

  After picking a few crisp legs from his teeth, he began rummaging through an old leather backpack. Retrieving a rolled parchment, he carefully laid it across his lap. The map was old and faded, but still legible. Using the poor light from the fading fire, he studied it for a time, tracing his finger along a white line. “There,” he mumbled, nearly poking a hole through the parchment. “We should be in town by tomorrow evening.” He got back to his feet and turned around. “Did you hear what I said? One more day and I’ll be rid of you once and for all.”

  There came a sudden movement from the base of a nearby tree. With her hands and feet bound with twine, a young girl kicked and squirmed in response, her head thrashing back and forth. She tried to scream through a filthy gag shoved in her mouth, only managing to form a series of urgent groans. The stranger approached her slowly, his dark-gray hooded cloak rolling in waves with the increasing wind.

  He knelt down beside her. Reaching out, he attempted to brush aside her sandy blond hair. She jerked away as if his hand were poisonous. With a light chuckle, he pulled the rolled cloth from her mouth, half expecting her to scream out. She didn’t. Instead, her lips just quivered soundlessly, tears streaming down her cheeks. She gazed up at him, her soft blue eyes filled with terror. “You–you don’t have to do this,” she said, voice soft and meek, cracking with each word. “Please, just let me go.”

  With his hood pulled low, face shrouded in darkness, the stranger appeared even more menacing than she remembered. “I’m sorry, but you know I can’t do that,” he whispered. There was a mild edge of compassion in the man’s voice.

  She burst into sobs, her chest heaving in and out. “R-return me to m-my family, and I promise you gold,” she moaned.

  With his face masked in darkness, she couldn’t tell if he was considering her offer, or merely stalling. “We both know that if I brought you back, a rope around my neck would be my only reward,” he said at length. Then, ever so slowly, he pulled back his hood. There stood a young man in his late twenties or so. “Besides, I already have a plan as to how I’ll get my gold.” The slow rumble of thunder in the background seemed to emphasize his statement. The girl wanted to shriek, or to at least look away, but she did neither. Instead, her gaze remained locked on those dark eyes of his. Knowing eyes that were wise beyond his years; had seen death up close.

  The dark eyes of a hawk...

  * * *

  The horseman rode through the city, pressing hard while paying little to no attention to those unfortunate souls who hadn’t moved in time. Baskets of apples and sacks of grain flew into the air as men and women dove to one side or the other. A chorus of angry shouts and shaking fists followed in the path of reckless destruction. It was a wonder no one had been killed. But that was of little concern to the rider. On he pushed through the crowded streets of the great city of Taron.

  * * *

  General Ninal Rothsul paced about the barracks, hands alternating between rubbing his temples and clapping nervously. So many questions that needed answering. Why hadn’t the caravan arrived in Athsmin yet? What had happened to them? The city of Taron had sent out its finest scouts to investigate. So far, they had found nothing. No trace of the missing wagons, nor a single witness to any crime. They seemed to have just disappeared into thin air. In frustration, he threw his fist against the long cloth banner hanging against the wall. Waves rippled up the green fabric, causing the yellow star at its center to dance about.

  The convoy had left Taron a week ago, accompanied by twenty of Taron’s soldiers. The armed men had been a direct request from the governor of Athsmin, Hyet Drine. The two cities had conducted business regularly for a number of years. Taron supplied weapons and grain, while Athsmin was famous for its fine porcelain, oil paintings, and other luxuries sought by the higher classes.

  These back-and-forth trades between the two cities were nothing new. In fact, the only thing that had made this shipment special was the presence of Hyet’s daughter, Anna. She had insisted on riding along this one time. Being perfectly away of his daughter’s stubbornness, Hyet didn’t bother to try and talk her out of it. He only requested that Taron supply additional protection when escorting them back to Athsmin.

  That was the last anyone had heard from them...

  Needless to say, the governor was crushed by the news that his only daughter had gone missing. Tension between the two cities was now at an all-time high. Whispers of possible war filled the streets. Athsmin’s military was nowhere near the size of Taron’s, but they did have access to nearly limitless gold and other resources. They were not a city to be trifled with.

  “Twenty soldiers should have been more than enough,” Ninal grumbled, completing his hundredth lap around the room. Soldiers seated around the barrack eyed the general, but remained silent. They felt as helpless as he did.

  Suddenly, the door blasted open from a swift kick, and in barged the rider. “Gen-
general Rothsul. I—” he blurted out, words broken between deep breaths. His body bent forward, hands going straight to his knees as he gasped for air. Clearly he had sprinted all the way from the stable.

  Normally, the general would have been more sympathetic to the young man’s condition, allowing him to calm down and catch his breath. General Rothsul was a large man, well into his middle years. His short, tight hair displayed more gray than brown these days. But he moved with surprising quickness, streaking across the room and grabbing the young man by the collar. “Report, lad. What have you found?” he said, shaking the poor man’s shoulders. It was hard for the other soldiers to see their general like this. Usually, he was in complete control. Always calm, even in the heat of battle. But not this time.

  “The caravan—” the scout attempted once more, taking another deep breath. “There was an ambush. They were attacked on the main road a day’s ride from the city.”

  “Impossible,” said Ninal, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Both cities have sent patrols up and down the main road. There has been no sign of—”

  “Their remains weren’t found on the main road!” interrupted the scout. He immediately drew in on himself, embarrassed by his outburst in the face of a higher rank. But worse, he was horrified by how bluntly he had just delivered the news of their deaths.

  “Go on then, lad. Finish your report,” said Ninal calmly. With his worst fears now realized, a sort of calm washed over the general. With his hands clasped behind his back, Ninal tilted his head back and closed his eyes. It was out of his hands now. All he could do was listen, then decide what their next course of action might be.

  The scout looked around the barracks. Solemn faces stared back at him. It was only now that he realized the soldiers in the room were listening to his every word. It almost seemed funny to him now. When he had first arrived at the gate, he had felt rushed to report his findings as soon as possible. Now it felt as though he had nothing but time.

  “All the remains were found two hundred paces to the north, off the main road, sir,” said the scout, eyes on the floor while trying to avoid everyone’s gaze. “The dead merchants, soldiers, and even the wagons had been moved off the road, then hidden. They took the time to sweep the area, eliminating all signs of battle. Heck, they even covered the tracks leading away from the road. We would never have spotted the torn-up wagons if it hadn’t been for a local famer who stumbled across them. He flagged us down when he saw our patrol approaching.”

  “Strange. That doesn’t sound like ordinary bandits to me,” said one of the soldiers leaning against the wall: a short, heavyset man with long blond hair. “Why go through so much trouble just to hide the robbery? What was the point of hiding the wagons?”

  “You are correct, sir,” said the young scout, looking the short man directly in the eye. “These were not ordinary bandits. This was a well-planned raid, and could have only been executed by an organized group.”

  “Bah! It still makes no sense,” said the short man, throwing his hands in the air. “If they were just going to rob and kill everyone anyway, they would be long gone before anyone found the remains. Why even bother to—”

  “Did they?” interrupted the general, suddenly showing strong interest. Ignoring his soldier, he stared at the scout.

  “Did they what?” the scout replied nervously.

  “Did they kill everyone?” said the general, impatience starting to build in his voice. “Has that been confirmed?”

  “We found none alive. All the bodies,” he swallowed hard, “were beheaded when we found them. They were lined up, then executed.”

  Ninal took a deep breath. He didn’t want to get angry at the lad. After all, he was trying his best to offer all the information he had. But Ninal needed a more specific answer to the question. “Listen to what I’m asking you, lad. I understand you found no one alive, but were all the bodies accounted for?”

  The blond-haired soldier’s eyes lit up with recognition. Now these questions made more sense.

  “Well, that I don’t know for certain,” said the scout, a bit taken aback by the question. “We just assumed—”

  “From this point forward there will be no more assumptions,” said Ninal, his deep voice booming through the barracks. He pointed to one of the soldiers. “Casey, I need the names of everyone who was with the caravan that evening. Speak with whoever was on gate duty that night. They’ll have a list.” The man nodded, then scampered away. Ninal motioned to another soldier. “Gham, I need you to assemble a team of trackers. The best available. We’ll need at least five dogs, and I want them ready within two hours.”

  “But sir,” said the young scout, boldly questioning the actions of a superior. “Whatever group committed these heinous acts is long gone by now.”

  “All the more reason to hurry,” said the general. “That is why they hid the wagons and covered their tracks. They were buying time, and were successful, I’m afraid. Where are the other scouts from your party?”

  “Well, they...they’ve been dismissed,” the young man stuttered. “The only job left was to make my report to you. Only one of us was needed for that. In fact, reporting our findings to you was supposed to be the last of my duties, sir.”

  “What is your name, lad?” asked Ninal.

  “Um–Ardo, sir,” the boy replied.

  “Well then, Ardo, consider yourself reinstated,” said the general. “You’re going to lead our men back to where you and the others found those remains.”

  Standing tall with his chest puffed out, the young scout failed at trying to hide his smile. “It will be an honor, sir.”

  * * *

  The heaviest rain had passed to the north, leaving them to get sprinkled on. Not as bad as Azek feared, but enough annoyance to affect a good night’s sleep.

  The girl mumbled incoherently, her head rolling to the side. At first, Azek was tempted to let her rest a while longer. After all, the nights had been restless since her capture. But he decided against it. If they were going to make it to Corper by nightfall, they needed to leave soon. Besides, the increasing intensity of her groans only proved she was having yet another nightmare. He rubbed her shoulders lightly while whispering her name. “Anna, Anna,” he repeated several times before her eyes began to flutter.

  She lunged forward, eyes jetting open as she gasped for breath. The ropes around her shoulders and neck drew tight immediately, causing her to cough. “Shhh, you’re alright,” said Azek, lightly pushing her back against the tree. “You were just having a nightmare.”

  “I’m still having a nightmare,” she croaked, her voice a hoarse, gravelly whisper. She surged forward again and spit in his eye. “When my father tracks you down like the dog you are, you’ll be begging for that rope around your neck.”

  “Ah, yes, so you’ve told me,” he replied, calmly wiping the wetness from his eye. “In fact, I do believe you’ve made that exact threat to me several times now.” He quickly glanced over both shoulders in turn, feigning fear with his mouth open and eyes bulged. “Are they here? Shall I run away now, or wait until after breakfast?”

  Her anger seemed to melt away, replaced by a bleak hopelessness. She looked away, eyes pooling with moisture. “Oh, there now,” said Azek, tapping her shoulder lightly. “I’m only teasing. After tonight, I promise you’ll never ever see me again. Now, speaking of breakfast...” He began to rummage through a small leather bag, then pulled out a small loaf of bread and a few wedges of cheese. Both items were beginning to harden, but remained edible. Breaking off a piece of each, he held the bits to her mouth. Anna hesitated a moment before taking the offering, her hunger overriding her anger.

  “You’re letting me eat this?” she mumbled around a mouthful, eyeing him suspiciously. “You ate insects last night, but didn’t touch my food?”

  “Of course I’m letting you have this,” he replied, breaking off another few pieces. “This is what I found you with, therefore it belongs to you. My rations were depleted two days ago.
” He broke off another piece of bread. “Regardless of what you think of me, I am no thief.”

  “No,” she hissed, voice soft and threatening, her eyes narrowing into tiny slits. “You are not a thief.” Each word came out slow and deliberate. “You’re willing to commit murder any time the asking price has been met, caring nothing for the suffering families your victims leave behind. Tell me something, what is the cost of a human soul? A gold piece, maybe two?” He began to interrupt, but she spoke right over him. “You think you’re a soldier, but you’re nothing but a common thug. A sword for hire to anyone who’ll throw you a coin, or even a whore to warm your bed for the night. And now you can add abductor to that list, ready to sell me to the highest bidder. But no, you don’t see the truth of your actions. This mercenary looks to cling to some twisted sense of honor. Some deranged sense of pride that enables him to feel human. The murdering cutthroat looks at me with a straight face and says... ‘I am not a thief.’”

  Azek lunged to his feet, throwing the bread and cheese down onto her lap. “And what does someone like you know about someone like me, Lady Anna Drine, highborn daughter of Hyet Drine?” He dipped down into a low bow. “Is not everyone a criminal to your eyes? How dare that servant leave a spot on my table made of pure crystal? Why was my dinner served a heartbeat later that yesterday? I’ll have the cooks skinned alive!” Azek moved in closer, his face an inch or two from hers. “I know you may find this hard to believe, but some of us must engage in less than honorable acts to make a living. Not all of us were born into wealth, then handed everything our hearts desire.” He stood and backed away.

  “Typical view from a heartless butcher,” she said boldly, working up the courage to meet his eyes. “You know why you mock people of privilege?” A hint of a smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “Because you’re so certain you will be judged, that you rush to be first to do the judging. What you don’t realize is your feelings of inferiority are all in your head. You’re really judging yourself. Did it ever occur to you that maybe some of us attained our status and wealth through hard work, not inheritance?” She took a deep breath, her eyes still locked with his. “And I can assure you...my family didn’t gain our wealth through taking hostages or committing murder.”

 

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