The Gate - An Ancient Connection

by B. N. Crandell

  The door swung open and a maid entered carrying some clothes. Gerard pulled the bed covers up a little further over his chest. The maid placed the clothes on the corner of the bed.

  “I see you’re finally awake, my lord. I’m sorry it took so long to prepare some clothes for you. Would you like the drapes open?”

  Gerard wasn’t used to being referred to as ‘my lord’ and wondered at why he was being called so.

  “Leave them closed please. I will open them myself once I have dressed. Where is Sylestra?” The woman looked a little aghast at the mention of Sylestra without the use of her honorary title but Gerard refused to use it, particularly since he figured that she must have drugged him last night in order to seduce him.

  “The supreme mistress is breaking her fast. Once you are dressed I will take you to her. Can I do anything else for you, my lord?”

  Gerard shook his head and watched the maid leave the room, closing the door behind her. He slowly got to his feet, ambled over to the clothes and put them on. They were nowhere near as extravagant as the clothes he remembered wearing last night, in fact they were very basic indeed; a thick, white shirt and a light brown pair of pants along with some clean underwear and socks and a plain pair of leather boots.

  Once he was dressed he walked over and pulled open the drapes. He squinted against the bright sunlight and held one hand to his forehead to shade his eyes. The view looked down onto an exquisite garden. A miniature river network fed into a large pond, complete with small wooden bridges wherever the paths met the water. A paved courtyard surrounded the pond and benches and tables were scattered about. Flowers of all varieties and colours brightened the garden while neatly trimmed hedges supplied privacy to sections of the garden. Gerard had never seen such a large, well-kept garden and he imagined that it’d take days to explore every corner of it.

  The bedroom door opened behind him and Gerard pulled his gaze away and watched the maid enter.

  “Beautiful isn’t it?” said the maid walking over to stand beside him. “I walk among the gardens daily and still find myself in awe of its magnificence.” Gerard nodded in agreement as he turned back to admire it.

  “Does Sylestra take good care of you?” he asked the maid after a moment of silence while still gazing out the window.

  “The supreme mistress treats me very well.”

  Gerard looked at the maid and couldn’t help feeling that she was holding something back. However, from what he had seen so far, Sylestra’s servants looked very well looked after.

  “We had better not keep her waiting,” said Gerard turning for the door. The maid took up step beside him and led him back to where he had dined the previous night.

  The room looked different bathed in sunlight; larger and not as endearing. Sylestra sat in the same chair she had the previous night eating her breakfast. The table was once again filled with platters of fruit, meat and steaming dishes and bowls of assorted foods. Sylestra noticed him and beckoned him to take a seat.

  “Good morning, I trust you slept well,” she said with a pleasant smile as Gerard took his seat.

  “Did you drug me?” asked Gerard through gritted teeth.

  “Now what kind of greeting is that?” asked Sylestra feigning hurt.

  “Did you drug me so you could seduce me?” repeated Gerard firmly.

  “No I did not. You shared my bed of your own free will. Perhaps you should take it a little easier on the wine in future,” said Sylestra in a serious tone.

  “It wasn’t the wine. Wine has never had that effect on me and my memory is so vague once I entered your room.”

  “A pity, for we had such a wonderful time.” Sylestra smiled seductively. “Help yourself to some breakfast. It may clear your head a little. I should have warned you about how strong our wine is.”

  Gerard looked down at the food and his stomach grumbled. He threw the food on his plate. He didn’t believe it was the wine; at least not just the wine. Sylestra had done something to him he was sure and he hoped some food did help him to remember.

  “I really must be going now,” said Sylestra standing up. “Now that you’re awake I’ll send a clothier to you to get your measurements. I hope to spar with you again later today.”

  He started eating his breakfast and tried to ignore Sylestra as she rhythmically walked by him, but he found his eyes still wandered to catch a glimpse of the shapely woman and he hated himself for it.

  * * *

  Sarai was working diligently away at her work station lost in thought. She was feeling better about herself today and looking forward to seeing Brendan again tomorrow. She got quite a fright when something tapped her firmly on the shoulder.

  “You! Come with me,” an orc said gruffly.

  Sarai’s heart began to flutter. What had she done wrong? To hesitate was to make matters worse, so she got up at once and followed the orc.

  She was taken high up in the Palace, her heart pounding harder with each step. They finally came to a door and the orc opened it and gestured for her to go on in. It was a dining room and a human male, with wavy brown hair, sat at the table eating breakfast. Even seated Sarai could see that he was larger than any man she had seen. He turned and looked at her with deep brown eyes and then to the orc standing next to her.

  “You are to get this man’s measurements and make him a gambeson as soon as possible,” said the orc handing her a measuring tape, a quill, a small bottle of ink and a piece of paper. She nodded her understanding, took the items from the orc and approached the man.

  The man stood up and Sarai had to stop herself from gasping. He must be nearly seven foot tall. Despite his massive frame, the man had a kindly face enhanced by the small smile he gave her.

  His biceps bulged and the white shirt he wore stretched tightly around his muscled chest. He stood with a confident stance and maintained eye contact with her until she nervously looked down.

  “Could you step away from the table a little, my lord,” requested Sarai timidly as she placed the paper, ink and quill on the dining table. The man did as she requested and turned to look at her. His intense gaze made her feel self-conscious.

  “How’s that?” he asked in a deep masculine voice.

  “Very good, my lord.” Sarai wasn’t sure if she was calling him an appropriate title or not, but no one had corrected her yet so she figured it was safe to continue calling him that. “Now if you’ll just hold your arms up please, my lord, I’ll measure your chest.” The man did as she instructed and she reached up and wrapped the tape around him. Once she had the measurement, she told him to relax as she wrote it down. She continued to get all the measurements she needed and then asked him for his preferred design.

  “Make the length to mid-thigh, flaring slightly from the hip. Some padded pants would also be nice as Sylestra does enjoy the occasional low blow.” He said this with a widening smile that made Sarai’s heart flutter. His reference to the supreme mistress without her honorary title shocked her however; it was an offense normally punishable by imprisonment.

  “As you wish, my lord.” Sarai bowed her head, collected her measurements and writing equipment and made for the door. The orc opened it before she got there and returned her to the compound.

  * * *

  The female clothier was the first woman he had seen since arriving in Sylestra’s Palace wearing plain clothes and no make-up. Despite that, he saw a natural beauty. Her long, untamed blonde hair was not as shiny or as decorated as the other women, but it framed her rounded face well. He briefly noticed her blue eyes when she had the confidence to look up at him.

  She had not smiled the entire time she was in the room and Gerard sensed that smiling was rare for her. Even without the orc escort, he would have assumed her to be a slave.

  Two orcs came into the room and stood by the door before he had finished eating his breakfast. He was determined to take his time with it and eat as much as possible. One could never tell when meals such as this would cease. Even when he had f
inished, he stretched back in his chair and made no move to rise.

  Eventually the two orcs asked him to stand up and follow them. Still, they had had more patience than Gerard thought they would. He walked between the two as they directed him through the maze of corridors.

  After descending the fifth flight of steps Gerard had a good sense about where he was heading. His suspicion was confirmed a short while later as they approached the dungeon door. Cheers and exclamations of relief met him when he reached the cell door and was ushered inside.

  “We thought you must have been put to death when you didn’t return,” said Jeff with a hard slap on the shoulder. “Where have you been?”

  “With Sylestra,” replied Gerard shortly.

  Jeff raised an eyebrow at him. “All night?”

  Gerard nodded miserably.

  “Well I’ll be!” shouted Jeff. “Here we were crowded in our hard cells worried sick about ya while you’ll off frolicking with a beautiful woman.”

  Gerard balled his fist in a rage and swung hard at Jeff connecting solidly on his jaw and knocking him to the ground.

  “You insult the memory of my wife so?” yelled Gerard as Jeff looked up to regard him. “You insult me so? You of all people should know me better.”

  * * *

  Pilk stood as straight as possible, patiently waiting for the crowd of over two hundred wizards to be seated in the Academy Hall. The padded cloth seats were permanently set in a crescent shape around the stage. On either side of him the backstage rooms could be accessed by a small set of steps from the auditorium. The carpeted hall ascended in increments with a wide access door in the rear. Before speaking, Master Pilk looked down at Grand Master Reibeck who was seated on a chair to his right.

  “Most of you likely already know what this is all about, but for those that do not, I will summarise it,” said Pilk once he held their attention. He told them about the appearance of the Gate, the first loss of soldiers as they confronted the new orcs, how they had been delayed for so long due to the attacks from the orcs in the Ki’hara Mountains and how they had marched an army to the orc fort and the ensuing agreement. Mostly the wizards remained quiet, but an occasional gasp or loud retort was uttered.

  “I have recently spoken to the orc shaman responsible for its creation. He told me thirty-two shamans helped create it and have been adding to its power ever since. He estimates that we’ll need a minimum of eighty-two wizards to close it in sufficient time. So far I have nineteen volunteers. As you can see, I am a long way short.”

  “I thought you’d be use ta bein’ short by now, Master Pilk,” shouted a wizard from the crowd which resulted in a roar of laughter.

  “Indeed,” said Pilk when the laughter had died down. “I realise not all of you are able to contribute for various reasons, but I hope the rest of you will see how serious this matter is and volunteer. There is no reason why we shouldn’t have at least one hundred capable wizards helping to close the Gate three days from now.”

  “Why so soon?” shouted another wizard, “I hear that the Raziyans are pulling numbers back from the northern border to meet the threat of these orcs in the south. Wouldn’t it be better to let these orcs capture more Raziyans and take them back to their world? Better still, perhaps the Raziyans will kill them all at great loss to themselves alleviating two threats at once.”

  A chorus of agreement went up supporting the wizard.

  “General Krak’too’s orcs are no threat to us. But aside from that fact, there is a great threat making for the Gate now; a powerful orc tribe led by a human woman with dark magic. If she was to make it through with her army, it would surely spell doom for all of us.” A hush fell over the crowd.

  “Are you referring to necromancy, Master Pilk?” shouted a wizard near the back.

  “I am,” he replied.

  “A magic of myth!” shouted the wizard. “It has been tried by many and all failed. There is no such magic.”

  Pilk sighed. So many haughty wizards willing to spout their knowledge and not act when needed. He took a deep breath and related the story about the destruction of the mother world, Aleri, and how the necromancer Sylestra was responsible for it.

  “My belief is that her god did not come to this world and therefore has no power here,” finished Master Pilk.

  “Then how can she be considered such a threat if her magic would be useless here?”

  Another loud chorus of support went up.

  “Because it’s obvious that her god did follow her to this orc world. If this god of dark magic could follow her there, than she could follow her here.”

  Nods and shouts of agreement told Pilk that he had at least convinced a few.

  “Now, can we have a show of hands of those willing to help?” asked Pilk getting tired of all the talking. A few hands went up and then slowly but surely more hands followed. Pilk took a count and could scarcely control his frustration that only fifty-six wizards had volunteered. This made for a total of seventy-five which was better than what he had, but still short of what they had figured they needed. Still with his plan of marching the army through and back again it may be enough.

  “Those who have raised your hand I thank you very much. Please arrange to be in Arthea three days from now. Those who didn’t raise their hand, I hope you will give it some more thought and change your mind. You will all be very welcome in Arthea. Please spread the word to any you know who weren’t in attendance here.” Pilk closed the meeting and accompanied Grand Master Reibeck off the stage.

  * * *

  Decker sat on a flat rock and looked out over Lake Forster’s sparkling water. He had come to his land for a quiet place to think. When he first arrived he started thinking about where he’d like to build a house and how he wanted it designed. He had mused over it for many hours.

  After a while though, his thoughts drifted back to Cressida. He had thought things were progressing very well with her. He was falling more and more in love with her by the day, but perhaps that had blinded him to the fact that her feelings for him weren’t following the same pattern.

  He mulled over every conversation he had had with her and shed a different light on it. They had rarely had any deep conversations and Decker just realised that it was because she had continued to deflect such talk. They had kissed and cuddled and held hands but that was as far as their physical relationship had developed. Decker had admired her for that and he thought she had admired him for not pushing for more.

  She never spoke of Jaz’s father and the little information he had from Master Pilk didn’t help much. He assumed that he was dead for it seemed as though Cressida still held some deep feelings for him. He thought perhaps that was her reason for not wanting to get close to him; that she wasn’t ready for another serious relationship or that she feared losing him too. He wished that she could speak to him about it so they could resolve it, but instead she had gone running off back to Zin-Baiden.

  Perhaps if I had asked her to marry me. Maybe that would have made her stay, or perhaps it would have made her run away quicker. He threw a rock into the water and bowed his head in defeat. He just didn’t know how to handle the situation.

  He had no idea how long he had been sitting there, but a hard bump on his back had him up and alert in an instant, sword at the ready. He lowered his weapon immediately as the horse reared up with a loud whiny and stomped the ground.

  The black mare had approached so quietly that even his sensitive ears had not noticed. The horse calmed down as he sheathed his sword and lowered her head giving a small whicker. Decker approached slowly and tried to appear non-threatening.

  “You came to me,” he said gently, “so don’t be running off now.” The horse raised and lowered its head as if it understood him. Decker reached out and stroked the horse’s nose. She remained still and allowed him to do so for some time.

  Eventually he made his way around to her side and patted her muscled shoulder. Still the horse remained calm and made no move to run o
ff, so Decker worked his way around further and patted her side in long slow strokes. The horse twisted her neck to regard him and gave another little whicker.

  “Do you mean for me to ride you?” asked Decker in a hushed voice. The horse lowered and raised her head once more. Decker was astounded. Could this horse really understand him or was he just imagining it?

  Deciding to try his luck, he kicked his foot out at a nearby rock and used the momentum to leap on top of the horse’s back. The black mare stirred and started to gallop forward. Decker almost fell but caught the horse’s mane at the last minute. She kicked in protest at the painful pull of her hair and it took all of Decker’s skill and strength to remain seated upon her back.

  Eventually he got himself upright and balanced and eased off his pressure on the horse’s mane. She rewarded him by straightening up and increasing her speed. Decker whooped loudly in sheer delight as the wind swept his hair out behind him.

  Good or Evil?

  “How’s the jaw?” asked Gerard as Jeff approached him.

  “Feels like it’s shattered in a million pieces.”

  “A nice reminder for your smart mouth then,” quipped Gerard with a smile.

  “I truly meant no offence. I was so relieved to see you return … I just wasn’t thinking,” stammered Jeff as he sat down on the bed beside his old friend.

  “I probably acted a little hasty too, but I was already dejected over what happened. I’m sure she drugged me or something. She claims it was only the wine, but no way could the wine cause me to dishonour my wife so. I still only have a vague memory of what happened after I entered her bedroom.”

  Jeff remained silent allowing Gerard to speak his thoughts.

  “What is the last thing you remember?” asked Jeff after a moment of silence.

  “I remember her reaching up to whisper in my ear,” replied Gerard.

  “What did she whisper?” asked Jeff