Zealot
by Joshua David Smith
Copyright © 2015, Joshua David Smith
All rights reserved.
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Chapter 1
Day 1
The snow, it’s like sand, finding its way inside your clothes, your hair, your mouth; it gets everywhere, covering everything in a sea of white. But unlike sand, snow bites, stinging you viciously until numbness overcomes the agony.
It was difficult for Gretel to picture the warm sandy beaches of the village where she had spent the majority of her adolescence, the place she still referred to as home, while trudging up the backside of snow covered Castle Mountain; but she tried anyway. She was exhausted, not just by the climb but because Gretel hadn’t had any sleep in well over twenty four hours.
Just making it to the base of the mountain was not without its share of complications. It had required months worth of conditioning and prep work to start. Then, before beginning the climb, Gretel, upon locating the secret pass that happened to have a guard camp posted at its entrance, snuck by the guards without being sighted, and continued to follow the pass for hours in the early morning without the light of the sun. Afterward, upon reaching her intended destination, Gretel was faced with a brutal three thousand foot climb to a man made platform, the same platform which now loomed only a hundred feet above her.
Gretel was actually fairly lucky to have found the man who knew of this secret exit from the Castle of Five Spires in the first place. The exit, which Gretel was about to alternately use as an entrance, had been built as an escape for the royalty in case the castle was ever under siege. This was not unusual as most castles have precautionary measures such as this. However finding the secret exit was, ‘more than difficult, but less than impossible,’ as Gretel would say. Perhaps the most difficult part had been in finding someone who knew where it was in the first place. Even then it had required certain aggressive interrogation techniques to force the someone who knew, to let loose his tongue.
It’s no wonder the exit is so far from common knowledge; Gretel considered it a reasonable thought as the pass is well off the beaten path, and even when standing directly below it, the platform was nearly impossible to see. As Gretel had learned, the platform was built so that even if one did happen to see it, they would think it nothing more than a natural extension of the mountain. Truly, the only way one would recognize it for what it was, is if they came here with the express purpose of finding it.
This climb had once again reminded Gretel of how much she missed having the use of all her fingers. She found that even something as seemingly unimportant as one's left, little finger, proves its usefulness in it's absence.
To bad I already killed the man who took it, thought Gretel as she continued her climb, making a last bit of significant progress. In hindsight she thought it would have been better to have forced the man to live his life without the use of a few of his digits, as opposed to just killing him. Gretel, also often considered that the thumbs would have been best to take, because after all, what can a man do without thumbs? Her logic sometimes seemed more logical and less vengeful in her head than when it came out of her mouth. But none of that mattered now anyway, as he is after all, dead, and her finger, is gone.
“Just a few more feet now,” Gretel whispered to herself, arms feeling as if they were about to give out on her at any moment.
She had trained hard for this, and she was not about to fail before she even entered the black castle fortress overlooking Kingsgate. There was no turning back now; this would either end in her success, or her execution. However, she refused to die here, plummeting to the mountain floor. With that, she ignored the bitter wind, the ice, and cuts mercilessly given to her by the mountain. Putting all things aside, she pushed forward with all the might Gretel had left.
Gretel's coat was heavy; being made of thick wool it proved a new obstacle. Without it, Gretel would have frozen by now, but needing to loose weight, not unlike a sea crew that throws cargo into the ocean to save their own lives in a raging storm, it was either the coat or her sword and satchel. Making the decision without further thought, Gretel threw off her coat letting it tumble down, flapping in the now strengthening, icy wind, to the bottom of the mountain. But, as Gretel threw off her coat, she slipped, falling a couple of feet, barely catching the mountain as she desperately reached out.
After taking a moment to steady herself, Gretel again struggled forward. Fighting off feelings of despair, Gretel crawled six inches, one foot, two feet, until she closed the gap. Gretel took one last gasp, letting a small whimper follow, then, with her eyes locked onto the ledge, she reached. Upon grasping the edge, Gretel screamed, pulling herself up over the ledge, onto the platform. Panting heavily, she sat down in the snow, taking a brief moment to catch her breath and regain a bit of strength before pushing on.
A few minutes had passed since Gretel had seated herself, intent on catching her breath. She wasn’t concerned about any guards being posted around the exit, as the whole purpose of the exit was not to be found by someone like her. With that being considered, this was the last moment of relative safety Gretel would have for days even if she wasn’t caught. So, this being highlighted in her mind, she relished it as much as the icy weather would allow.
It’s no wonder why peoples like the Gahnen have such a war torn history; the brutal cold of the Northern lands is not kind, Gretel thought as she picked herself up off the ground. Gretel knew that if she didn’t start moving again soon, hypothermia would set in, and she didn’t plan on loosing any more fingers today; maybe her head, but not her fingers.
Gretel removed her special gloves and placed them in her satchel. She removed them because they interfered with her ability to use the sword which was currently in a sheath strapped to her back. The dark cave loomed in front of her, and to her right she could see a large lever that would release the long hanging ladder built onto the platform which she would use to climb down to the ground safely upon her exit. There was no door blocking her entrance into the cave which she was told would wind through the mountain, leading eventually to a trap door on one of the floors of the castle. The man also told Gretel that she would have no problem finding her way in the dark. She hoped he was telling the truth, after all, sometimes cutting off a man’s fingers in a tavern one at a time until he spills the beans, can have the opposite of the desired effect. Sometimes they don’t spill beans, they just spill lies, a prospect that at the moment was less than appealing.
Gretel didn’t like deep dark caves, but then again who does. With that, she drew a deep breath and walked not so fearlessly into the darkness.
Gretel had been fumbling uneventfully through the cave for what felt like hours, before finally coming to what seemed to be the very entrance that she had been searching for.
Ah, here it is. Now all I need to do is… there, and then…
She breathed a sigh of relief as she heard the click from up above. Following the click, Gretel couldn’t help but smile as she popped up the floor piece, moving it to the side. She then pulled herself up out of the cave and into an empty room.
It must be a few hours after midday. Gretel looked out the wide window which sat on the opposite side of the room as compared to the location of the door.
I wonder how many people in the castle even know of this caves existence.
Gretel reached for her sword and pulled it out of her sheath knowing she might need it at any moment now.
The room was dark due to the snow storm which had recently moved in, and the stone walls only worked to amplify its gloominess. Also, the abhorrent lack of furniture or decor in this room didn’t help to alleviate the poor first impression made by the Castle.
Gretel dropped her satchel, thinking it would be best
to leave it in the cave in case of capture, before she then resealed the trap door shut and placed the old rug, apparently the only thing hiding the caves existence, over what she soon hoped would be her exit. Gretel, then walked quickly to the wooden door on the other side of the room and reached out with her left hand, turning the knob. Creeek! The door opened a bit too loudly for comfort.
Gretel went on, peeking around both ways up and down the long hall.
The inside of the castle was far more decorated and welcoming when one looked into the hall. One would think judging by the castles black steel coated exterior that the inside would be more foreboding. Actually it was almost beautiful. The walls were painted white, and the floor had glossy black tiles. There was a red carpet about five feet wide running up and down the middle of the hall. Gretel, saw quite a few paintings and portraits adorning the walls in an orderly fashion, set in gold frames. Then, every so many feet on either side were four foot high, rectangular tables, which lined the hallway. On each table there were ornate lamps; lamps which Gretel could obviously tell to be worth a fortune.
The hall was massive, being at least one hundred yards long and ten yards tall. It also appeared to have a width of about fifty feet. Gretel was told that Five Spires was built with ten stories; each one up to the sixth floor was built with a massive hall, every one like the last, running the length of the castle front to back. On the sides of the halls there were many rooms, some bigger, some smaller, some used, some not. On the first floor the large, steel, double doors, being the main entrance to Five Spires, stood at the backside of the massive monolith. Then, on every level, there was also a round terrace placed on the front side of the castle, each giving a bird's eye view of the most populated city in the known world; Kingsgate. On both sides of the terraces there were two circular staircases that ran all the way up and down the castle. She was told that beyond the first level there would be guards posted in increasing number depending upon how high one went. The man also told Gretel that the first floor would be lightly guarded with just one guard standing on the terrace. He said when asked about the castle entrance that the double doors remained unbarred most of the time. He stated that there was a huge compliment of guards stationed outside, but none immediately inside the doors. This made sense to Gretel as she figured they were trying to keep people out, not in.
A slight grin spread across Gretel’s face. Well, it looks like that little man told the truth after all. Peeking out in the direction of the terrace she saw the lone guard halfway across the hall. He was leaning over the four foot high terrace cross guard facing the city with both hands being used to prop himself up. Her grin turned to a smile as she quickly but quietly made her way across the first floor. She hoped her fortune wouldn’t turn as it was still a relatively long way, and one shout from him could send the guards above clamoring down the stairs. She was counting on the sound of the icy wind, the wrath of the storm, to cloak her approach in silence.
With phase one of her plan completed upon entering the castle the second phase had begun, and this step was pivotal. She needed to interrogate someone inside the palace as no one outside could give her precise directions to the dungeon. As uncanny as that is, apparently no one who has ever gone in has ever come out. At least that’s what they say; Gretel never really believed that though, it was just too unlikely, too mythic. Someone always escapes or gets released, unfortunately she just couldn’t find that someone. But that didn’t matter now, what mattered is the perfect mark standing in front of her, unaware that in just moments his day would turn for the worst.
There he was, now just ten feet away from her. He hadn’t really even moved accept to scratch himself once or twice since Gretel walked out of the room. I’m never this lucky.
“Hello,” said Gretel.
The guard, surprised, immediately turned, reaching for his sword. But Gretel was faster, she rushed forward, left hand closing his mouth with her sword held against his throat. She pushed his back up against the rail, not so fast that he would topple over, but also not slow enough for him to escape.
“Shhh… I am going to ask you a few questions; if you call for help I will spill your blood on the floor right here and now. If I don’t like your answers, then well, we’ll see if you can fly. However, if you don’t call for help, and I like your answers, then you may just live to continue your illustrious career in service to the Empire.”
Gretel was never going to let him live of course, and if he had just a smidge of intelligence he would know that. But telling someone you were interrogating or kidnapping that they were going to live if they complied, whether it was true or not, is the only way to get them to do what you want. After all, someone who thinks or knows that they are going to die no matter what they do, is far less likely to comply than someone who has hope.
“Do we understand each other?” asked Gretel right before slowly removing her hand from his mouth.
“Yes,” replied the guard as he quietly followed with a stressed swallow.
“Good, I like that answer,” said Gretel before asking, “So, I need to know where the dungeon is and how to get there?”
“Why?”
“Now that answer, I didn't like; let's see if you can fly shall we,” said Gretel while putting pressure on his neck, slowly pushing him over to the point of teetering on the rail.
“No, stop, please,” the guard said in a panic but still keeping fairly quiet.
Gretel stopped for a second holding him in place. At that moment a devious smile spread across her face which served to frighten the guard even more.
“I know what you are thinking,” Gretel said with a chuckle.
“What, what am I thinking, what…?”
“I think you think you can fly,” Gretel said before making a fake movement suggesting that she was going to toss him over the edge.
“No, no stop, I’ll tell you, don’t, I swear I’ll tell you what you want to know…”
Well that was easier than usual.
It didn't take long for him to reach his breaking point. But this is where the man tells Gretel about his kids, his wife, and anything she actually needs to know. Gretel was competent at this, she knew how it worked; this wasn’t her first time, and with a few exceptions they’re all the same.
“…please just stop, I have kids, I have kids,” the guard finished with near whimpers.
Gretel, now straight faced, responded with her own dark sarcasm, “What, no wife?”
“She... died a few years back.”
“Huh, I see,” replied Gretel coldly.
Gretel would have liked to let the man live, truly, but that just wasn’t possible. She would not even be here if her mission wasn’t so important, so personal. Gretel had difficulty feeling sorry for any soldier serving under Tiburon’s banner, but children loosing their father, that is never right. However, the children are often made to suffer for the sins of their fathers; this is the way of things.
Gretel pushed in a loud whisper, “Well? tell me how to get there… speak!”
The guard began to do as she asked when all of a sudden, the castle entrance on the other end of the hall, flew open.
Chapter 2
Day 1
“I request an answer as to the purpose of this audience with your majesty, and I inquire as to the purpose of my being summoned to Kingsgate,” said Tiberius as he knelt on the floor of the throne room, twelve feet before Emperor Maximillian.
“Ahh... Tiberius, what a tedious start to a simple day,” responded the emperor with a sigh.
Tiberius attempted to bite his tongue but was rather unsuccessful, “Forgive me your Majesty but perhaps one would have a word with those that deliver his messages. For after all the summoned do not summon themselves, and is it the fault of the summoned that the summoner is not prepared to receive a timely appearance by the summoned? Should the summoned return later, perhaps when the summoner is more prepared to conduct the simple meeting which now lies before him?”
The ru
ler's expression immediately turned sour from his previous look of boredom and slight agitation, “How dare you insult me with belittlement and accusations of incompetence!”
“Forgive me your Highness. I will choose my words with more care, for I did not intend to express belittlement,” responded Tiberius as he attempted to mask the amusement and pleasure he received from insulting the emperor.
Tiberius’ response only helped to further anger Maximilian, but do to the emperor's clear eagerness to get Tiberius out of his sight, he continued with the meeting. Taking a second to compose himself the emperor continued, “I have no time for your… trying nature today Tiberius. Did you do as my message instructed?"
“Yes my Lord, I withdrew my personal units from combat and had all imperial units under my command transferred to Legatus Malcus. If I may, as earlier I request an explanation as to why I have been pulled from my commission in Gahnen and summoned to Kingsgate?”
“No you may not, my reasons are my own. Malcus is fully capable of dealing with the rebels in your absence; and as of today you are currently… on leave.”
Malcus, hah, that foolish warmonger is the reason another rebellion sprung up from Gahnen in the first place.
It was all Tiberius could do to keep what was in his mind from exiting his mouth so he simply replied, “As you wish your Majesty.”
“You may leave Tiberius.”
“Of course, I will see myself from your sight.”
With that Tiberius rose before striding down the steps leading away from the throne, and across the long room adorned with all manor of riches and beautiful craft works. He did not bother to look out any of the large glass windows that gave one an eagle’s eye view of the mountains from the tenth floor of the menacing Five Spires. Upon reaching the massive double door the two elite guards opened the throne room’s entrance. The guards eyed Tiberius as he exited the room, then continued to close the door shut behind him.
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