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

by Jeff Gunzel

  “First thing you need to do is relax,” said Azek, fearing he might lose some bargaining leverage if the girl was in hysterics. It might appear as if he were peddling broken goods. “Next, I want you to start thinking about your family. Concentrate on them and nothing else. The wolves’ lair is going to take you into custody, arrange an exchange with your family, and send you home. And that will be the end of it.”

  He believed his own words—for the most part. That was the way they had always done business in the days when he was in charge. Someone else was running things now, but that shouldn’t mean anything.

  “Promise me,” she squeaked. Her voice was so weak, Azek couldn’t be sure he heard her correctly.

  “What? Speak up, dear.”

  “Promise me again that I won’t be harmed,” she said, her voice steady that time. “Tell me what you said before. I need to know you meant every word. Tell me no harm will come to me and that I’ll see my family again soon.”

  Azek shrugged at the harmless request. “Sure, I promise.”

  “No,” she shrieked, leaping to her feet, prompting him to jump up as well. She grabbed the sides of his face, forcing him to look at her. What he saw in her eyes was beyond terror. “You must say the words, and look at me as you do. I don’t want the typical explanation of some common thug just saying what the victim wants to hear. I need the word of the Shadow! Please, promise me!”

  When he gazed into her eyes, a gut-wrenching guilt began rolling deep within his chest. It had been years since he felt this way. Telling someone what you believed to be true was not the same as a promise, and right now he could feel the difference. For the first time, he felt wholly responsible for her safety.

  Steeling himself, he gently removed her hands from his face while his dark, piercing eyes remained on hers. “Lady Anna Drine, daughter of Hyet Drine,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I swear to you on my life you will not be harmed in any way. Within a few days’ time you will find yourself reunited with your family once again. I, Azek Lamanton, give you my word.”

  The tension in her face and shoulders seemed to melt away as she let out a deep breath. She nodded to him, then looked up to the ceiling. The drumming of heavy rain was now bombarding the old roof. When the double doors swung inward, a flash of blue from outside highlighted a dark outline around the shadowy figure standing in the doorway. An icy breeze blew in, visible by circling spirals of dust and leaves.

  The tall stranger stood in the doorway silenty with his large arms crossed over his chest. “Stay here,” said Azek, before walking over to the man. “I assume you are the one I seek,” he said, having to look up in order to meet his gaze. He looked into ice-blue eyes, so light in color it made him appear as if he might be blind. The giant smiled down at Azek, golden fangs catching the light from the lanterns. They seemed to sparkle for an instant. Without a word, the tall man turned back toward the door. “Where are you going? We have business to discuss.”

  The giant spoke without looking back. “My name is Arkare Chijaki, and this is my town. My rules,” he said, then leisurely drifted out into the street. Azek nodded in respect. He himself had once conducted business in a similar fashion. No doubt there were armed men in hiding, waiting to see him out into the open. That’s what I would have done, he thought. Azek pointed to Anna one last time. “Remember what I told you. You’ll be going home soon,” he said, then followed the towering figure out into the street.

  The heavy rain was coming down in sheets. Cloudy puddles bubbled with foam, the rain pelting their surfaces. Arkare stopped at ten paces then turned back. “I assume you’ve come back to reclaim your status,” he said, once again in a voice far too calm and gentle to have come from this giant. But Azek recognized the tone for what it was. Unwavering confidence. The confidence of a man who had just put himself at a great tactical advantage.

  “I’m afraid you overestimate my ambitions,” said Azek, hood drooped low to help shield him from the rain. With only his mouth visible, he couldn’t see much more than Arkare’s boots. “I lost the taste for this life some time ago. Rest assured, I am no threat to your position.” In a subtle movement, he cocked his head to the side as if listening to the storm, then pointed to a nearby cross section. There was nothing visible there. “Before we continue, I ask that you tell them to lower their crossbows. I admire your forward thinking, but such precautions are not necessary.”

  Arkare looked amused, a wide grin showing his fangs once again. He raised his hand and closed it into a fist. Three men holding loaded crossbows peeked out from around a corner across the street. They didn’t unload their weapons, but pointed them towards the ground. “Impressive,” said Arkare with a nod. “Now then, shall we discuss—”

  “The two on the east roof, as well as the other four crouching behind that wagon over there,” Azek interrupted. “If you please.”

  The smile melted away from Arkare’s face. He didn’t like being made a fool of. Perhaps he had underestimated Azek. “Do not press me,” he growled, glaring at the smaller man. “If I give the word, you will die where you stand.”

  “As fair an offer as I will receive, I suppose,” Azek said dryly. “Very well then. I have a business proposal for you. One in which we both shall benefit, I believe. I have with me a young lady who—”

  “I’m perfectly aware of who she is,” Arkare cut in. “It is already known to me that the blood pack recently attempted to abduct Lady Anna Drine. I doubt any of the other vested parties have figured out the specifics yet, but my spies wander these woods like ghosts. So then, my assumption is that you’re seeking a bit of coin for this precious treasure?” Caught off guard by the accurate assessment, Azek didn’t reply. His silence was answer enough. “I see. Then my next question to you is why don’t you arrange the ransom yourself?”

  “I don’t have the manpower or the resources to do that,” Azek said, beginning to feel foolish. He had hoped this would be a simple arrangement. Cargo for coin. But he was beginning to realize he didn’t have much to bargain with. “Look, I’ve already done the heavy lifting for you. I’ll take one thousand gold in exchange for the girl.”

  “One thousand gold?” Arkare said sarcastically, as if the price were outrageous.

  “You know she’s easily worth ten times that,” Azek shot back, unable to hide his irritation. “But I’m sure you’ll hold out for more when the time comes.”

  The tall assassin tapped a finger against his chin. “An interesting proposal. You claim to have done the heavy lifting, yet my men and I would assume all the risk.” He spun on his heels and gazed upward, appearing to ponder the offer. Azek almost laughed at the stalling tactic. It was clear the man’s mind was already made up, but the game simply needed to play on a little longer. “Five hundred gold, and I’ll remove your burden.” Azek rolled his eyes at the lowball offer. “But, seeing as how you once held a fair amount of prestige in this town—at least, in the eyes of a few who now work for me—I’ll make it six hundred and fifty.”

  Azek sighed, wondering if he had any other choice. With some proper investments, he might be able to make do with a sum that large. But more importantly, this lifestyle would finally come to an end. He would finally be able to look in the mirror and not hate the man looking back.

  “I suggest you take your gold and leave my town,” said Arkare, breaking Azek from his daydream.

  “Under the circumstances, I feel I’ve no choice but to agree to your terms,” Azek replied, Arkare’s smile widening with every word. Arkare knew her value would be high. Much higher than the agreed-on price. “However, I do wish to add one final set of terms to our tentative agreement,” he said, almost as if it were an afterthought. “There are no losers here, everyone involved stands to profit. And I would like to see that gesture passed all the way up the line.” Arkare stared at him hard, suspicion gleaming in his eyes. “I need Anna to be delivered unharmed. I’m sure you will agree, you get can get a much higher price if the girl is untouched.”
>
  Suspicion flew from Arkare’s eyes, immediately replaced by amusement. He roared a deep laugh, echoed by the men hiding in various places around the area. “After I ram my sword in her ass, will she still be considered unharmed?” called a man from a nearby rooftop. The echoing laughter only intensified.

  “I mean it,” said Azek, his hard, dark eyes staying locked on Arkare. “It’s a simple request. And on your honor, I expect you to keep your word.”

  “I haven’t given my word,” Arkare hissed like a snake. “When a farmer sells a pig to a butcher, the farmer doesn’t request any special treatment for the animal. He just takes his coin and leaves. After all, it’s just going to end up on somebody’s plate. Whether the pig suffered before it got there or was treated like royalty means little in the end.”

  From the darkness, a man came running up to Arkare. He handed him a bulging sack, then ran back the way he came. Arkare shook the bag with a jingling sound, then nodded in satisfaction. He tossed it at Azek’s feet, gold coins spilling onto the street. “She’s worth more to me alive than dead,” said Arkare, a dark smile on his face. “Therefore, the men’s playtime will be...limited. That’s all you need to know. Take your gold and go. Our business is finished.”

  Azek stared down at the coins. Arkare was right: he could just take his gold and leave, never to return. He could begin his life over again. It all started here...now...with this one last deal. All he had to do was leave Anna to her fate and walk away. She would survive, probably. Just take the gold and leave. Easy. Walk away and never look back. One final broken promise ensures you’ll never have to do it again.

  But it was as if someone else was controlling him. Azek looked up, meeting those cold, lifeless eyes. He kicked the half-full sack, sending it back toward Arkare, then couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “No deal. Consider the contract terminated.”

  Chapter 4

  Enraged, Arkare’s lips curled back into a snarl. “The contract is terminated when I say it is,” he said, his voice suddenly low and gravelly. His eyes flashed towards the coins scattered around his feet. “The gold was only a courtesy, a token gesture to a man once highly respected by a few of my men. I don’t take your former status lightly.” He took two steps forward, eyes blazing with fury. “Nor do I take being made a fool of...lightly.”

  Azek scanned the darkness, searching for any additional threats. The men he spotted before had already taken up new positions, hidden amongst the shadows. He had lost track of them and couldn’t afford taking his eyes off Arkare for too long. He realized his impulsive actions had put him in a dangerous position. This reckless behavior was not like him. What was driving the usually cool, calculating assassin to these mad decisions? No matter now. What was done was done. It was time to defuse this dangerous situation and cut his losses. Whether or not he could still find a buyer for Anna was now the farthest thing from his mind. How did this deal go south so quickly?

  “No one is attempting to make a fool out of you, Arkare,” Azek added hastily. “You wouldn’t adhere to my modest requests, yet they were every bit a part of our agreement. A simple addition to our contract that would have cost you nothing. This is of course your right, and I have no intention of questioning your motives. For me, this only means I’ll have to find another buyer.” He began to back away, inching toward the tavern. “I will now take back my captive and bid you good evening.”

  “Oh, I’m afraid it’s too late for any of that,” said Arkare, his soft, carefree voice returning once more. “You see, you were right about one thing. Lady Anna Drine will be worth an exceptional amount of coin, and I can’t just let you walk out of here with my rightful property. Now can I?”

  Azek stopped backing away. The self-doubt that had been driving his cautious retreat suddenly vanished like smoke, leaving a smoldering spark burning in his chest. It was a primal instinct he had fought hard to suppress over the years. Controlled rage he once unleashed on all his enemies, but had learned how to push it into the deepest corners of his mind. Just like that, recent years of self-imposed discipline and control began to crack like a wall made of glass.

  “She is not your property,” Azek hissed, fingers inching towards the hilts of his blades. “Nor is she my property.” Even as he said the words, a sudden revelation washed over him like freezing water. That is correct. She is not my property and never was. She is a human being, and I’ve put her in grave danger. “We are not bartering over the life of a pig, but a human being. An innocent one at that.” He could hear the distinct sounds of clicking crossbows echoing through the darkness. “If this is the way the wolves’ lair conducts its business these days, so be it. That will be your downfall, not mine. Heed my warning, because there will not be another. We are leaving right now. Do not try and stop us.”

  Cackling laughter rang out from nearby alleys. More echoed across the rooftops and down into the street. It was obvious there were many more hiding than before. Grinning, Arkare drew his swords with a slow, grinding hiss that seemed to take several seconds. His swords were obviously custom weapons, with spiraling gold and silver lines wrapping around the hilts. The blades themselves were astonishingly long, and looked to be too heavy and cumbersome to be effective in real combat.

  “You’re warning me?” Arkare replied. He briefly joined in the laughter of his men, before his hot glare returned. He twirled his swords with a whooshing sound, each spinning several tight circles before bringing them to a sudden halt. That explosion of movement proved they were either astonishingly light, or he was impossibly strong. “I’m sorry it must end this way, friend. Think of... death... an... example to...”

  Arkare’s broken words were falling on deaf ears. They were nothing but a distant hum like the wind as it rattles leaves on a tree, something only noticeable if you listen to it carefully. But Azek heard nothing. He could feel the glass wall as it shattered, shards of broken crystal crumbling down around him. Discipline replaced by chaos... Control supplanted by rage... The civilized man he worked so hard to become was now choking on blood. The chaotic hunter had returned, and was now in control.

  The air around him seemed to change when the assault began. Azek saw nothing...but felt everything. Instincts long suppressed took over in an explosion of movement as the hunter’s body seemed to maneuver on its own. Gripping the fabric of his cloak, he spun in place like a violent tornado. Crossbow bolts ripped into the cloth, each slightly misdirected just as the tips penetrated. A few passed through, grazing his stomach and chest, but most remained tangled in the fabric like fish in a net.

  Completing his final spin, he dropped to one knee, launching a dagger in one smooth movement. With a loud clang, Arkare’s blade intercepted the dagger inches from his throat, sending it tumbling away in a shower of sparks. Enraged, the giant charged forward with deceptive speed, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye.

  On instinct alone, Azek parried the lightning-fast sword strike. His hands numbed from the shocking power, but managed to counter with three quick slashes. Arkare seemed to flow out of harm’s way; his smooth dodge was fluid like silk. His body seemed to melt more than move, as if he had no bones.

  The giant thrust forward again, his sword strikes silky yet faster than a viper. Blades crashed over and over in a deadly dance of steel on steel. So smooth were their movements that it all looked practiced, each sword intercepting the other before redirecting momentum into a counterstrike. This was the speed and power of muscle memory in motion. No conscious thought, just the reflexes of skilled warriors taking over.

  Another crossbow bolt zipped past Azek’s ear. The slight flinch it caused was almost enough to lose him the fight. That minuscule loss of concentration found him whirling his blades defensively as Arkare pressed harder. Azek had to weather the aggressive barrage, then flow back into his rhythm. The bladed dance was a game of inches, and neither could give up even one. This monster had the speed of a man half his size, and polished bladesmanship that should have ta
ken a lifetime to attain.

  I cannot lose focus again. Not even for a second. But getting shot in the back won’t help me much, either.

  Because of the fighters’ close proximity, the men with crossbows were reluctant to let loose for fear of hitting the wrong man. Azek used this to his advantage, moving circles around Arkare while their crashing blades rang out into the night. In a desperate attempt to get out of this position, Azek slashed low with both swords. His surprised opponent leapt back, dropping his blades down to block. Azek charged forward, his left sword driving up toward the giant’s face. The hard blow was solidly parried, but it created the separation he needed. Arkare’s off-balance block forced him back a step, giving Azek a chance to run past him.

  He streaked down the street with urgent speed as crossbow bolts zipped past his head, others impaling the ground around his feet. With a sharp turn he sprinted to the left, still more bolts whizzing past his head. With the aid of his built-up momentum, he scrambled up the side of one of the buildings—the old, soft wood proved to be perfect for traction. Within three strides he was hanging from the rooftop, and with a mighty tug he pulled himself the rest of the way up.

  A wave of bolts blasted the wall where his body had just been hanging. He could feel the thudding vibrations through the roof as he lay flat on his stomach. From here he couldn’t exactly see where the attacks were coming from, but that made him confident they couldn’t see him either. Feeling reasonably safe, he decided to lay low for the time being.

  “So this is the legendary Azek Lamanton,” called Arkare, the sound of his voice ringing out through the darkness. “The man once feared by all hides in the shadows like a frightened rabbit.” His taunt was followed by the sounds of laughter and the clicking of reloading crossbows. “Very well, then. If the coward wants to hide, I say so be it.”