The Gate
Invasion
Book Three of the Gate Series
B.N. Crandell
The Gate - Invasion
Copyright © 2015 by B.N. Crandell
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
ISBN 978-0-9924217-7-9
www.bncrandell.com
Published by Oz Authors
www.ozauthors.com
Acknowledgments
Editing: Serena Tatti Editing Services, www.story-editor.com
Cover Design: Dean Samed, Conzpiracy Digital Arts
Interior Art: Claudia Domrose, Art Illusions
Andrey Kiselev, Dreamstime.com
Karol Sabat, 123rf.com
AlgolOnline, 123rf.com
Table of Contents
Offer of Challenge
Breaking Through
The Challenge Festival
Escape Plans
Stalemate
Changing Plans
Breach
Ultimatum
Battle
Organised Retreat
Caged
Rescue Plans
Fight for Freedom
Chaos in the Compound
Slaughter in the Slaughterhouse
Sacrifice
Palace Fight
Pursuit
Recovery
Traitor
Visiting Fort Lowmount
The Ivory Sailor
A Second Gate
Nefari's Orb
In Search of Food
A Growing Power
Nydel Falls
Under Threat
Eskania
Evacuation
Sending a Message
A Third Gate
The Gate - Closure
Glossary
Ka’ton
Ki’arantha
Chapter 1
Offer of Challenge
It had been another long hard day at the Slaughterhouse. Gerard had visited the Bathhouse on the way home. He still couldn’t get used to the idea of public bathing, but it was better than being dirty.
He stood in the middle of the main room and looked around at his tiny, simple dwellings. Could he really continue his life this way? It was certainly an improvement to the way he lived among the Black Skull tribe, but he still lacked the freedom he so craved. Every chance he had throughout the day he thought about how to escape but kept coming back to the same realisation — he resided on a hostile world not knowing his exact location except that he was many days away from his only chance home. Locating the Gate and returning to his home-world seemed like an impossible dream.
Life in the Palace, sparring with Sylestra and being pampered by her palace staff looked like a very attractive offer. He had actually thoroughly enjoyed his sparring matches with Sylestra even though he could not defeat her. Sparring against a superior opponent like that quickened his reflexes, sharpened his mind and increased his body control. It made him a better fighter. Aside from that, he actually enjoyed Sylestra’s company. Her intelligence and differing opinions kept him thinking and even re-evaluating his deeply entrenched beliefs.
His eyes eventually settled on the piece of paper that Sylestra had left on the table. He walked over and picked it up. After reading the address, he put the paper in his pocket and headed out the door.
It didn’t take him very long to find the dwelling. With a slight hesitation he knocked on the door. Within moments the door opened and a woman that he recognised stood there in a black silk night-dress.
“You — you’re Sarai,” he stammered. The woman looked vastly different to the first time he had seen her. The night-dress looked simple enough but very revealing and showed off the woman’s shapely figure. Her long, wavy blonde hair hung over one shoulder and the night-dress finished at mid-thigh, exposing her long, well-shaped legs.
“I am,” replied Sarai in a sweet voice, “and you must be Gerard. The man I’m making the gambeson for.”
“That’s me,” he replied, trying to sound confident.
“Well do come in, Gerard,” said Sarai as she stood to one side and waved him through. The room had a pleasant smell to it — certainly more pleasant than the musty smell of his residence. The blind remained closed and the room lit by a single candle positioned in the middle of the table. As he turned around Sarai came in close, wrapping her left hand around behind his neck and her right on his buttocks, pulling him in tight against her. She pulled his head down and kissed him gently on the lips. Gerard pushed her away to arm’s length with difficulty.
“I cannot,” he said as he looked into her questioning eyes.
“I — I do not please you?” she asked innocently.
“No — I mean yes — I mean it’s not that you don’t please me, but that I don’t know you,” stammered Gerard.
“My name is Sarai and I am your breeding partner, what else is there to know?” Her voice was quiet and troubled.
“We’re not animals,” said Gerard trying not to yell and scare this timid woman. “We should have the right to choose our partners, to fall in love with them and spend our lives with them. This situation is not right. I came here tonight not to breed with you, but to get to know you.”
“But I don’t have time for that. It has been eighteen cycles since I had a baby. If I don’t become with child within six more cycles, I’ll be sacrificed,” said Sarai in a pleading voice.
“You’ll what?” asked Gerard incredulously. His voice had risen and Sarai had taken a few steps back from him looking ready to cry. For that he felt bad, but he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.
“I’ll be sacrificed to Nefari as I’ll be seen as no longer useful,” explained Sarai softly.
“Nefari? Who or what is Nefari?” asked Gerard.
“Nefari is the goddess of Darkness. She grants power to the strong through sacrifices of the weak. How is it you don’t know this?” Sarai looked at him curiously, as if he were growing horns.
“I — ah — come from a different world,” said Gerard trying to think of the best way to say it. “On my world humans are the dominant race and the orcs, which are smaller and dumber than these brutes, live in the mountains and are hunted.”
“How is that possible?” asked Sarai hesitantly. “How did you come to be here?”
“I have to go,” said Gerard. “I’ll return tomorrow evening and tell you more, but for now I have to go and talk to a friend.”
“You’ll not mate with me?” Sarai’s mouth turned downwards, her blue eyes glistened with unshed tears.
“No, I’ll not mate with you.” Gerard’s words came out harsher than he intended. “But I’ll make sure you are not sacrificed either,” he added in an attempt to calm her. She did relax a little, but tears flowed as he stepped around her and made for the door.
A little while later he knocked on another door on the men’s side of the compound. The door opened and a tired-looking Jeff stood there.
“We have to escape this place,” said Gerard without greeting.
“Well it’s about time ol’ friend. I thought you were goin’ all soft on me.” Jeff opened the door wide and allowed Gerard to come in.
Gerard sat at the table which looked identical to his own and waited for Jeff to sit opposite him before telling him about his latest discovery. Gerard studied Jeff’s face as they both sat in silence. He couldn’t believe how blind he had been. The orcs of the Black Skull tribe had told him of the Ta�
��zu and their deadly magic and barbaric practices, but he had come to believe that their stories were false or at least exaggerated, thanks to the honeyed words of Sylestra.
She had shocked him when she told him that there were no homeless beggars among her populace. He thought that every kingdom had that problem, but Sylestra had found a way to combat it. While he didn’t agree with her slave compounds and the lack of basic freedoms of those within, he couldn’t deny that they were looked after far more than any of the homeless back in the Kingdom of Lertia.
Her breeding program had also troubled him but once again he had to admit to himself that it had its benefits. In the same way that a horse breeder attempted to breed the best of bloodlines, Sylestra ensured that the best characteristics of her slaves would carry onto the next generation. He even had a similar program on his sheep farm. The men he worked with each day were perfectly suited to their roles and the slave women he had seen were very pretty indeed. But humans weren’t horse or sheep. They had intelligence and free will.
While he disagreed with her methods, he had been willing to overlook them to a degree and take up her offer of swearing fealty to her and enjoying a life in the Palace — perhaps even having his son brought here. But sacrificing innocent human beings to increase the power of others was wrong. He couldn’t overlook this and it made him sick to his stomach.
Jeff looked ready to say something but obviously thought better of it. Finally he did break the silence.
“So do you have any plans for our glorious escape?” Jeff folded his hands on the table in front of him.
Trust Jeff to side-step the serious part of a conversation and move on. Anyone else perhaps would have wanted more details about the sacrifices or at least expressed their own distaste with it, but not Jeff. He had seldom spoken to Gerard about the death of his wife, Adrianna, in the six weeks since it had happened. Gerard had found it easier to talk about the death of his own wife and daughter to young Jethro than his life-long friend.
However, Jethro had died in their escape from the Black Skull and Gerard had had no one else he felt comfortable with to share his feelings. Not to mention that he didn’t think it fair to share his own distress when all the other men and dwarves who had survived had also suffered so much.
“Not yet,” replied Gerard. “I just found out about this and came straight over to see you. I’m sure we can come up with something though.”
“Well let’s start out like we normally do — stealth? Or bash and crash?” Jeff stood up from his chair and started pacing the very small room with his head lowered.
Gerard thought about it for a moment.
“Surely this calls for stealth. I can’t see how we can ‘bash and crash’ our way out of the compound, out of the Palace, out of the city and then out of Sylestra’s domain without facing the full force of the Ta’zu which is undoubtedly the most powerful tribe on this world.”
“Yes and look how few it took to capture us in the first place. So stealth it is.” Jeff resumed his pacing which made Gerard smile. He was sure his face would crack it had been so long since he had smiled.
“Perhaps we need to do some reconnaissance work before we tackle a full blown plan.” Gerard looked up at his friend as he stilled and returned the gaze.
“Good idea!” Jeff’s sudden excited outburst caused Gerard to jump in his chair. “We must find out more about how this place functions — the guards’ schedules, weak points, a supply of weapons, that kinda thing.”
“We need to spread the word to all the others too. Between all of us we should manage to get a good sense of this place in short order. The dwarves are working at the weapon smith and armoury so they may be able to acquire weapons and armour for us,” added Gerard.
“One of our biggest problems will be defending against their magic if we are spotted. The dwarves have a natural resistance but even they succumbed to their dark magic.”
Gerard nodded solemnly. He couldn’t beat Sylestra in a fair sword fight. Add her magic to that and he wouldn’t stand a chance against her and she’d personally track him and take great delight in slaying him.
Supreme Mistress Sylestra landed a few feet away from General Jak’ho. She unbuckled herself and jumped from the back of her mighty wyvern, Zaydok. The winged, dragon-like creature flew off, creating a breeze that blew Sylestra’s dark hair into her eyes. She brushed it aside as she approached the heavily tattooed General with a practised ease. He towered above her and his arms were at least three times thicker than her legs and yet if it ever came to a fight between them, there was no doubt who the victor would be. Sylestra had been honing her skills for centuries untold.
The late afternoon sun reflected off his metal tipped fangs as he formed what the orcs considered to be a smile. While she flew over the city of Gnash she noticed that the General had not been idle in her absence which did not surprise her — he was one of the most dutiful orcs she had ever known.
He had divided the army into three so as to surround the city; the southern wall skirted the Black Rock Canyon so any attack from that direction would be impossible. Camps had been erected and great siege weapons were being assembled. If Sylestra’s plan worked out as she hoped they would not be needed but it did no harm to keep the army busy.
“Any news to report?” Sylestra stopped a few paces in front of him, glancing beyond his formidable frame to the fortified wall and back again.
“Aside from a few threatening words from Gilkan all has been quiet, Supreme Mistress.” General Jak’ho folded his arms across his chest.
“You have met with him already?” Sylestra opened her eyes wide, surprised that the General would do so without her being present.
“He shouted it from the wall. Without repeating all his vulgar profanities his basic message was that he’d like us to pack up and go back home.” The edge of General Jak’ho’s mouth folded up into a crooked grin.
Sylestra chuckled and wished she had been there to see it. A raised eyebrow on the General’s weather-beaten face told Sylestra that he was curious as to how she had fared.
“This side of the Gate belongs to us but they’ve managed to seal the other side with a stone wall,” she explained. “A battle was already raging when we arrived. Gilkan evidently received the message from my spy and sent a force after O’tukka but instead they met an army of dwarves and men. We slaughtered the Black Skull warriors but that gave the Ka’tonian army time to flee back beyond the Gate. We pursued with worg riders but they managed to seal the Gate before more of our warriors got through.”
“So our worg riders are all dead then?” General Jak’ho shuffled his feet and gazed at the ground.
“Most likely.” His question annoyed her but he wasn’t accusing her so she let it slide. “I sent my remaining force to the eastern wall to help stop any attempted escape.”
“So what’s our next move, Supreme Mistress?” The orc General stood tall with feet together.
“I want that battering ram and two of those ballistae sent to the Gate at once with crews to operate them continuously.” Sylestra pointed to where the siege engines were being assembled. “They are to smash the wall blocking it before the dwarves can strengthen it too much.” She had no doubt that the industrious dwarves would be even now strengthening that wall and human wizards would be working non-stop on closing the Gate for good.
“But Supreme Mistress, we will need that ram here. Gnash will not be as easily penetrated as Izlalek and Ken’thor.” The General looked at her with eyes wide open as he gestured to make his point.
“No — Gnash will be even easier to penetrate and to conquer. I will do that single-handedly.” Sylestra turned away from the General. He would do as instructed. With her head held high and a slight smirk, she walked toward the high western wall of Gnash.
As she neared, she cast a spell of protection upon herself. A translucent, dirty-grey outline formed from out of her skin and continued to expand until it was about arms-length away from her body. The shield
appeared to be invisibly attached to her as it shifted to accommodate her every movement.
Since she didn’t carry a banner of truce, the Black Skull weren’t obliged to remain passive and yet they did. They allowed her to walk to within twenty paces of the gates.
“I would have a word with Gilkan the Fierce One of the Black Skull tribe,” she shouted to the top of the wall.
“The Fierce One is not present at the moment.”
Sylestra located the orc that had shouted the response. He looked to be solidly built from what she could see as half his body remained hidden behind the merlon of the battlement. She made out clear enough the intertwined purple, red and yellow ribbons attached to his leather breastplate identifying him as a general.
“Well go and fetch him then,” she allowed a bit of exasperation to creep into her voice. “I’ll wait right here.”
“And who are you to be giving such demands?” The General spat the question back at her.
Sylestra’s irritation grew and was tempted to kill the orc where he stood to make an example out of him. Instead she replied in an authoritative voice, “I am Supreme Mistress Sylestra, rightful ruler of the Ta’zu tribe.”
“You’re a mere human. More likely that you’re a slave of the Ta’zu sent here to request an audience with the Fierce One while others of the tribe plan some great treachery against him. Go back and tell your masters that the Fierce One will speak with the true leader of the Ta’zu.”
Sylestra took a deep breathe to calm her rising anger.
“I am the true leader of the Ta’zu,” she screamed. “Perhaps you have noticed me flying overhead on the black wyvern? Do you think a mere slave would be given such trust or have such power? Send for him now before I strike you down where you stand.”
“Brave words for one who flies no truce banner. I only need to say the word and a hundred arrows would pierce your weak flesh in an instant.”
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