Branded (Master of All Book 1)

by Simon Archer

  Branded

  Master of All Book 1

  Simon Archer

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  5. Petra

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  8. The Weaver

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  13. Sullah Sona

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  19. The Weaver

  20. Sir Reginald Thorpe

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  23. Shikun

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  28. Khaba va’Khem

  A Note from the Author

  1

  “Do you truly believe your father’s tale, Master William?” Sir Reginald Thorpe asked me as we crested the rise.

  If the old British explorer had his doubts about the veracity of Dad’s story, he picked a hell of a time to bring it up. I almost laughed at his question as I pulled my parka hood close to cut off the biting Canadian wind. The tinted goggles helped with the snow glare as I scanned the frozen wilderness that filled the valley before us.

  “Do you think I’d have asked you to help me with this expedition if I didn’t believe my old man, Reggie?” I retorted with a grin, almost savoring the wind burn on my scruffy cheeks as I took in a deep breath of the clean mountain air.

  “Normally, I would never question Professor Tyler or you,” Reggie mused as he knocked the frost from his bushy grey mustache. Somehow, even in this distant forgotten corner of the Northwest Territories, the aging gentleman managed to keep himself as dapper as a dandy. “However, you must admit that the letter in his will was… rather extravagant in its claims.”

  I frowned at that as I assessed the path ahead of us. The late afternoon sun was mostly hidden behind the clouds that showered us with light snow, but I had a bad feeling a blizzard was coming in. If I had deciphered Dad’s letter correctly, our goal was only another hour away… down the steep slope of the hill and into the valley below. Ice and snow clung to the craggy rocks, but unless we wanted to take three times as long and get caught in that blizzard, we’d have to risk the climb.

  As for Reggie’s question, I shot him a sidelong glance as I unslung my framed backpack. “I’ll admit, Dad’s insistence that he not only found a passage to a world hidden beneath our own but had spent years living there on and off seems pretty crazy…”

  “I sense a ‘but’ coming,” the scholarly explorer mused aloud as he did the same, sensing my intention to prepare for the climb without needing to ask.

  “But,” I flashed him a grin as I dug through my pack, “as crazy as it sounds, I know he’s telling the truth.” There was my tightly wound coil of rope, my harness, pitons, everything I needed just as I’d packed it. “Think about it. You’ve known me my entire life, Dad for longer, and you can’t tell me that this doesn’t explain a lot of things.”

  “I suppose so,” Sir Thorpe mused as he stepped into his climbing harness. He worked slower than me, but for a man thirty years my senior, he moved quite sprightly. I only hoped I aged so well. “All those strange sabbaticals from the university, not to mention the very eclectic course of studies he encouraged you to undergo.” Reggie sniffed as he clicked the harness across his chest. “Though all proper gentlemen should have a wide-ranging education, stick-fighting, Krav Maga, linguistics, and primitive survival courses do test the limits of that idea.”

  I was already setting the anchor points and hammering home pitons for the descent as I nodded. “There were more than a few times when I was a kid when I seriously contemplated running away from home.” I smiled to myself at the thought of it. “I think I was going to go become a circus clown, figured that’d be a no-hassle life after all the stuff Dad was trying to get me to do… but the fact of the matter is, I’m glad he put me through all of that.”

  Reggie’s hand was on my shoulder as I straightened up. “Indeed, you’ve grown into quite the man, a man your father was proud of, William, as I am proud of you now.” I turned to see him smiling, something the reserved old man rarely did. “Now, let us uncover Professor Tyler’s last great secret, shall we?”

  “Thanks, Reggie,” I said, hefting up the coil of climbing rope I had anchored into the rock as I grinned. “Let’s do it.”

  With that, we moved swiftly to finish preparations for the descent. Ropes dropped, rappelling devices set, equipment double checked. The whole time, I kept one eye on the darkening skies. The snow was already starting to come down, and the cold was intensifying crazy fast, almost unnaturally so.

  If I didn’t know better, I would have thought that something was trying to keep us away from that valley.

  Maybe something was. With all that Dad’s letter had told me, a lot more than what I had shared with Reggie, anything was possible, but hell or high water, I was going to see this through. With a final nod to Reggie, I took a firm grip on my brake line and went over the edge of the cliff. The icy rocks of the cliff side were the worst mix of loose and slick, and I hadn’t descended more than ten feet before a wicked crosswind rose up from out of nowhere. In a matter of five minutes, what had already looked to be a difficult climb was turning into a deathtrap.

  I swayed precariously, the brake rope threatening to slip in my grip as I tried to find one decent foothold to give me a reprieve. When a chunk of rock broke free under my weight, I barely managed to stop myself from swinging in the wind by slamming my foot into a narrow crevice in the stone and bracing. Thank God that crevice held. After a moment, that initial gust seemed to calm. My deep sigh of relief came out like misty dragon’s breath, and after a second to gather my wits, I glanced up to where Sir Thorpe was looking down over the cliff, hands on my ropes as if he were about to try to haul me up himself.

  “The first step’s a doozy,” I shouted up at him before flashing him a thumbs-up. “But it’s all good now. Come on!”

  The worry on Sir Thorpe’s face melted away as he nodded back, then moved over to start his own climb. With the momentary crisis averted, I took a deep breath and continued my descent. The winds continued to stay calm, and after a few moments, I began to chide myself for even thinking that anything more sinister was afoot than shitty Canadian weather. Though the ice was still slippery and the cliff side unstable at best, we made great time from there, and within a few minutes, the snow-covered canyon floor was almost under my feet.

  That’s when a low, keening howl cut through the sounds of my heavy breathing. I paused for just a moment and leaned back to cock my head towards the sound, just in time for that first howl to be answered by another… and then a second and a third. Sir Thorpe stopped his descent next to me and gave me a curious look.

  “Probably just a pack of wolves on the trail of a moose or some such, my boy,” he huffed out between hard breaths. “Nothing to worry over.”

  “Yeah,” I muttered after a moment. I knew as well as Reggie that the myths of man-eating wolves were greatly exaggerated, that only the most hungry and desperate of packs would go after two fit, adult humans, but the hairs on the back of my neck were on end, anyway. “Right. Let’s get down to safety before those winds pick up again.”

  “Indeed, William! Allons-y!” he replied with a grin and rappelled onward, with me close on his heels. Even though the remainder of the climb was short, we were treated to another round of wolf howls, piercing notes that sounded… desperate. Hungry.

  A sense of relief was
hed through me the moment my boots hit terra firma, and I unhooked my rappelling rig as quickly as I could. Sir Thorpe was doing the same in a more leisurely pace, not worried in the least about the wolves, but I just couldn’t shake a sense of foreboding. It was almost like something was watching our progress the moment we stepped up to the cliff to look over the valley. Even if Reggie couldn’t sense it, Dad had always impressed on me to trust my gut instincts, so I wasn’t going to ignore them now. I kept a hand close to the hilt of the full tang survival knife at my belt as I scanned the valley.

  The scrubby permafrost at the edge where we stood turned into a surprisingly thick tangle of evergreens within a few yards. Of course, under the dusting of white snow, it was hard to see the green underneath. There were no paths, no game trails, just a primeval mini-forest guarding the way. It was just like Dad’s direction had laid out, so all we needed to do was head due north, to the far side of the canyon and the caves that were supposed to be there.

  More importantly, I swore that I heard the faintest crunch of snow mixed with the rustle of the needle-laden branches, and it sure as hell wasn’t the wind.

  “Really, William?” Reggie scoffed as he fumbled with the last of his harness’s buckles. “I say again, it is simply hunting wolves no doubt having lost track of a caribou or some other large hairy beast, hence their mournful tones.”

  “Normally, I’d agree with you,” I said softly, my focus more on trying to pick out the approaching sounds. “Trust me, though. I have a bad feeling about this.”

  He chuckled as he walked past me and turned his back to the woods, gesturing over his shoulder dismissively. “See? Even the howls have stopped. Nothing at all to worry about.”

  As if on cue, the trees behind Sir Thorpe parted almost silently, the only sound accompanying the almost emaciated wolf’s charge being its low growl of hunger. The beast’s jaws were parted, its golden eyes crazed, and my first fleeting thought was that the poor thing was diseased. I left that thought behind as I rushed forward, past a rather startled Reggie, to intercept the gray-furred wolf before it could take down the old explorer from behind.

  I got my knife free of its sheath, but I didn’t lead with it. That wouldn’t stop seventy pounds of pouncing canine. No, I tackled the wolf right out of the air, coming at it from the side to wrap my free arm around it. The impact was still jarring. The crazed wolf might have been thin with hunger, but its muscles were still wiry and strong, but at least I didn’t get caught by its jaws. In a tumble of man and beast, I took the hungry predator right into the frozen earth and slipped my free hand to its throat even as it tried to get a bite out of my arm. The second I got a grip on the wolf’s neck, I pinned it to the ground, even as its claws tore at my parka.

  “Reggie, get your head out of your ass!” I growled as I planted my knee on top of the wolf’s thin gut. Even though I was throating the canine, something that’d make most animals of its kind go into submission mode, the thing was still thrashing. “More are going to come!”

  Sir Thorpe might have been old, but he was unflappable, and the remnants of his youthful reflexes kicked in then. “Of course!” he got out, drawing his positively antique Webley Mark VI revolver in a fluid motion as I finally got an opening to slam the point of my knife between the pinned wolf’s ribs.

  I was right. Even as the snarling beast under me let out a howling whimper of pain before entering its death spasms, two more wolves, smaller than their leader but no less wild-eyed, burst from the trees to both sides of us. Classic wolf pack maneuvers, flanking their prey. Whatever was pushing them on, hunger, disease, or madness, gave the wolves insane speed, so fast that I barely had time to pull my knife free before one was on me.

  The last wolf, well, I caught the muzzle flare and booming crack of Reggie’s pistol out of the corner of my eye as I met my new attacker head-on. A tremendous howl of pain combined with a sick splat as the massive .455 round blasted right into the beast, just as my wolf barreled into me.

  I just managed to get my forearm, shielded by the thick all-weather jacket and the cable-knit sweater underneath, in the way of its jaws as the impact threw me onto my back. Wolf slobber dripped onto my face as those sharp teeth tried to tear through my clothes, and the pressure of the bite made me want to scream in pain.

  I bit that scream back though, there was no time to be hurt right then. I twisted and pulled my trapped arm, anything to keep those jaws from getting a clean purchase and ripping up the vulnerable flesh under the clothes, as I brought my knife upward. The blade punched up into the soft belly of the beast even as I felt its teeth scrape my skin.

  And that’s where it ended. I twisted the knife viciously, a roar of effort and triumph overwhelming the whimpering cry that echoed from the wolf’s throat. It released its grip in an effort to try to escape with its tail between its legs, but as the wolf managed to tear itself free of my blade, blood and guts spilled out of its belly. It only managed two staggering, painful steps before Sir Thorpe showed it mercy by putting a bullet into its brain.

  The wolf’s blood drenched my jacket and sweater, its warmth a strangely comforting thing as I pushed myself to my knees. Reggie calmly holstered the Webley, now in full alert mode as he came to my side.

  “Are you hurt, Master William?” he asked as he offered a hand to help me stand. Never one to turn down a helping hand, I took it and hauled myself the rest upward.

  “Nothing but some scratches,” I replied as I sheathed my knife. A quick glance at my torn-up sleeve confirmed that while the jacket and sweater were a mess, there were only a few bleeding scratches in my arm. “Stings like a bitch, but nothing I can’t deal with.”

  “Still, perhaps a field dressing…?” Reggie’s look was only of mild concern. Despite the posh exterior, he had gone through as many hardships exploring the far corners of the Earth as anyone, and he expected that toughness in others.

  “It can wait until we find that cave,” I replied as I flexed my hand a few times to work out the pain. It would sting the whole way, but considering how cold it was getting, it’d grow numb over our hour-long hike. My eyes turned down to the carcass of the alpha at my feet and the golden glaze that still filled its eyes even in death. “What do you make of them?”

  “Hungry mongrels, nothing more.” He let out a bit of a snort as he nudged the wolf’s head. “No foam, no clear signs of rabies. Simply exceptionally desperate and cunning.”

  I grunted, not quite as convinced as my British friend. “Well, whatever. We lived, they died. I’ll call it a win as we move forward.”

  “Hear, hear, and well said. Lead the way, old boy!” Sir Thorpe gestured grandly into the woods. “Have to beat that storm, right?”

  I nodded resolutely and pushed on. A quick glance at my compass confirmed our bearings, and from there, it was just a matter of navigating the thick needles and branches. To be honest, it wasn’t that difficult, especially compared to the climb down and the wolf welcoming committee… but that sense of a watchful eye never left me.

  Maybe it was just the fact that there was an entire section of Dad’s deathbed letter that I hadn’t shared with Reggie that darkened my mood a little. My father had been adamant on the matter. Even though his strength had been robbed by his year-long fight with cancer, his hands had been like iron as they clutched mine and his eyes burned as he made me swear to keep the full depth of his secrets between us.

  “Only when you are about to pass through, to fulfill your destiny, can you tell him,” he said with a hint of his old steel. “It’s too much, even for Reggie, and you will need his help to get to the portal.”

  I didn’t argue at the time, and I kept my vow the whole way during this month-long expedition, but we were close now. Maybe I could tell him now, with the end of the road being within reach…

  And before I could worry about that more, Sir Thorpe let out an astonished gasp that brought me out of my thoughts. He had gotten a few steps ahead of me, shrouded behind the branches of a fir tree, so I pus
hed ahead quickly. As I shoved past the thick needles, I stepped out of the mini-forest and into a small clearing by the canyon wall.

  As for what Reggie was astonished by, well, my eyes widened at the sight before us as well. Dad’s descriptions of the cave entrance had been meticulous but limited by his academic way of presenting it, and it in no way prepared me for what we saw.

  To call it a ‘cave’ was kind of like calling a cherry-red classic Porsche 911 a car. It was technically accurate, but an utter disservice to the object in question. While no doubt the archway before us had begun as a natural cave, skilled masons and sculptors had expanded it and carved it into a veritable work of art. The sides of the arch had been carved into pillars that mimicked the classical Greek style, while the top was a piece of what had to be imported obsidian. Intricate runes that bore no relation to anything I had seen in my vast studies of human cultures were inlaid in gold in the volcanic glass, and despite every rational idea of how erosion and time should work, the entire structure looked like it had been carved yesterday.

  It was magic. There was no other way to describe it, and that was just the entrance. What beckoned beyond, perhaps a dozen paces deeper inside, was a swirling mass of scarlet and black light, barely confined inside another archway even more rune-covered than the last.

  “I can scarcely believe my eyes,” Reggie whispered, ignorant of the snowfall that was only growing in intensity.

  I recovered from my awe faster than him. I at least had some forewarning of the true nature of the portal Dad had tasked me to find. As I passed by Reggie, I put a hand on his shoulder, my touch seeming to snap him out of his daze.