by Jeff Gunzel
Winds
of
Chaos
By
Jeff Gunzel
Copyright 2015 Jeff Gunzel
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Books by Jeff Gunzel
The Legend of the Gate Keeper Series
The Shadow
Land of Shadows
Siege of Night
Lost Empire
Reborn
The Trials of Ashbarn
End of Days
Tainted Blood Series
A Rip in Time
Of Blood and Blade
Winds of Chaos
Prologue
Stepping out through the temple doors, a light breeze caught Assirra’s face, cooling the sweat on her forehead and neck. Early as it was, colorful birds in the treetops still sang their songs, determined to wake every tarrin in the village of Eldham. Already, the forest was coming alive. But many were already up and working on the morning meal. After a long stretch, she brought her hand down to her mouth, stifling a yawn. Rest had not come easy as of late, and she was feeling the effects this morning.
Heavy eyelids betrayed her attempt to hide her fatigue as she forced a smile, waving at her brothers and sisters down below. Descending the steps around the boxa tree, her legs felt heavy, each labored step making her feel aged beyond her years. Distracted, her mind whirled with pressing matters beyond her control—an exercise in futility, to be sure, but she couldn’t help herself. So much had changed as of late.
After reaching the bottom, she made her way towards the rows of tables pushed together. As usual, they would all enjoy a morning breakfast before starting their day. Face muscles straining to maintain her smile, Assirra rounded the first table, touching shoulders in silent acknowledgment while making her way to its head. As usual, sliced fruit and pitchers of juice were laid out in an array of color. To the eyes of a human, it may well have appeared too beautiful to disturb. But these orderly, artistic meals were nothing new to the tarrins.
“Brothers, sisters,” she said, raising a glass in toast. “Once again we give thanks to Odao and all his blessings on this fine morning. Once again I awaken, even though this day was never promised to me, and I may look upon your smiling faces knowing each breath is a blessing.” Glasses were raised to whispers of “Odao,” a few stronger voices rising up above the others. “And let us not forget our human friends as they embark on their journey. Keep them in your prayers and close to your hearts, for I know that Odao will watch over them as well.” Far less enthusiastic grumbles resonated around the tables, a few outright scoffing at the unpopular premise of this morning’s prayer.
Assirra’s lips tightened at the cool response, her eyes skillfully singling out the most vocal among them. “Odao’s patience has no limits,” she said, her eyes squarely focused on one individual. “So I shall do my best to lead by his example. Sister Rhendal, please speak your mind so we may all be enlightened by your wisdom.”
With pasty white eyes so perfectly round that they looked more like a doll’s, the lean tarrin slowly rose to her feet. “I meant no disrespect, Assirra,” she said with a slight nod.
“And yet disrespect is exactly what you’ve shown me,” Assirra replied, her tone calm and even. “So why don’t you share your thoughts with us so we might understand why you felt the need to interrupt our morning prayer?”
The wide-eyed tarrin’s green skin appeared to turn crimson as she cleared her throat. “High Cleric, it’s just that not all of us share your views regarding these...humans.” A slap on the table here and there, followed by more than a few nods, seemed to support her claim. “Never have we meddled in the affairs of humans, yet they came into our world bringing with them the trouble and violence they are renowned for. Brothers and sisters have died for them, and still you sing their praises as if they were one of us. I wish to remind you that they are not of our world.”
Rhendal lowered her head, as if unsure of how much explanation would be too much. “Although blood has been spilled, it is over now, and I don’t wish to live in the past. But why must we continue to be reminded daily of the ruin they left behind? They are gone now and that’s fine with us.” More grumbles of agreement resonated around the tables. “Why can’t we just move on with our lives and forget about those nasty creatures?”
Assirra smiled at her, holding Rhendal’s gaze an uncomfortably long time until she had to look away. Even then, at least another minute passed before she spoke. “Indeed, we can move on with our lives,” she said at length. “For you see, with each passing day that those nasty creatures manage to keep Viola alive, they provide you all with yet another day in which to eat,” she flicked a grape from the bowl in front of her, sending it rolling across the table, “sleep, pray, breathe, and even criticize those who have done nothing but help you.” Tarrins shifted in their seats, eyes dropping.
“Of course, helping the tarrins was never the humans’ goal,” Assirra continued. “And still, the entire realm benefits from their tireless efforts. They did not come here to inconvenience us; they came for our help when there was nowhere left to turn. And help them we did,” she said in a softer tone. “For that, I couldn’t be more proud. I am not asking any of you to sacrifice any more than you already have. My request is a simple one: Keep them in your hearts and wish them well on their journey, for the price we’ve paid is but a fraction of what lies before them.” She dipped her head, arms rising from her sides. “That is all I ask, nothing more.”
Without another word she retook her seat and all began to eat in an uncomfortable silence. But for Assirra, the silence was welcome, for her mind was elsewhere. She was not in the mood for conversation or any other distractions this morning. Even the scolding speech she was forced to give barely registered anymore. Already if felt like an old memory, something that had happened months ago.
Once the meal had concluded, Assirra rose from her seat and headed towards the trail leading into the forest. A few questioning glances were flashed in her direction, but no one said anything as she disappeared into the greenery. The High Cleric had been acting strangely as of late, wandering off whenever she felt like without any explanation. For the most part, they decided to just let her strange behavior run its course. She, like the rest of them, had gone through a trying time. Sooner or later she would be her old self again.
After a time, Assirra stopped and glanced around to make sure she hadn’t been followed. She gazed back down the trail, searching for even the slightest hint of movement. Once certain, she stepped off the trail, slipping her way between two bushes. Wincing, she pressed through slowly, feeling their spiny thorns drag across her skin. Low-hanging branches rustled about at her feet, no doubt a family of surprised rabbits scurrying off. Scratched and further irritated, she nearly fell when stumbling out through the other side of the bushes. “Where are you?” she whispered, glancing left and right.
Slinking out from the other side of the small clearing came Jarlen, creeping along on his backside like some crab on a beach. She cast out her hand, sending an apple tumbling towards his feet. He snatched it and bit it in a single motion. A moment later he was assaulted by several more tossed fruits. Juice dripping from his chin as he gorged, he glanced up. “Is this all you brought me?” he asked boldly. Assirra quickly covered the distance between them, then blasted his chee
k with a backhand. He turned back to meet her glare, flashing an open-mouthed grin with a mouthful of apple.
“I should have just let you starve,” she hissed. “But even that wouldn’t make up for the things you’ve done!”
He rolled his eyes, spitting out what little bit he still had in his mouth. “We’ve already been through this!” he protested. “How many times must I explain myself? I didn’t have a choice. It was either her or me.”
“Then it should have been you!” she roared, kicking leaves and dirt across his legs. Jarlen flinched and looked away. Raising a yellow fruit to his lips, he changed his mind and tossed it aside. Starving a minute ago, he had suddenly lost his appetite.
“I know,” he admitted softly, mostly to himself. “But how was I to know? I’ve been locked up like an animal for the better part of a decade. I suppose I have you to thank for that.” This time Assirra dropped her eyes. “It’s not like her importance to the ghatins was common knowledge, even less to a slave forbidden to see the light of day. If I had known—”
“If you had known, nothing would have changed!” Assirra cut him off. “Because that’s the kind of man you are: greedy, violent, and small. You would have sold your sister for a mug of ale!” She continued speaking right over his attempted protest. “Two days... Two days and I want you gone from here. I don’t ever want to see you again.”
“Where will I go?” he said with a dejected sigh.
“What do I care?! Go live in the forest like some kind of animal. Go jump in a river and see where the current takes you. But whatever you do, you must do it soon. Two days!” she repeated, turning to leave. She wiped a tear from her cheek, thankful he hadn’t seen it. “I can’t believe I ever loved you,” she whispered to herself.
Chapter 1
Laughter radiated throughout the smoke-filled room. Frosty mugs clanked together, ale splashing up and over their sides. Topless barmaids held trays of mugs above their heads, inching their way across the crowded tavern. The energy was wild tonight, far beyond anything that had been seen in years.
Liam turned at the sound of shattered glass. Ignoring the broken mug at his feet, the man at the corner table spun a passing girl down onto his lap. His fingers raked down the front of her dress, spraying buttons across the floor. She squealed as her breasts popped free, though made only a halfhearted effort to cover herself. Patrons around them whistled and shouted, urging the man on as he groped away. She leaned back into his chest, allowing him to suckle her nipple.
All but ignoring the man latched to her breast, she leaned back across the table and began kissing another man. Seeing her engaged with two men, more moving in to get in on the action, Liam sighed and looked away. This was obviously going to get worse before it got better. It was clear that the local patrons wouldn’t be easily contained this night.
And it wasn’t just this particular tavern having some sort of private celebration. The whole city had come alive with the news. Yet another creature, just like the one they had watched for years, had recently been discovered. A female no less. What did this mean? Was she a killer just like the other one was? The king had made no secret of his discovery, so it could only be assumed she would be used in the same way. The city of Shadowfen buzzed like a living entity, its energy reaching new heights that bordered on chaos.
Lethargic, beaten, standing out among the wild energy of the tavern, the group sat in silence at their lone table. How had this happened? What was she thinking? What had they done to lose her trust and make her run off like that? Had a third party whispered in her ear, casting doubts about their otherwise honest intentions? If so, who would have done such a thing? These, among a slew of other questions, blazed through their minds. But one burning question rose up above all others: What could be done about it now?
Sleepy-eyed, Xavier fumbled around to get a grasp of his half-full mug. Easily within reach, he groped at its cool, damp side before his fingers finally grasped the handle. Tipping it back too quickly, the frosty ale splashed against his lips while only a modest amount managed to get inside his mouth. Most of the beverage ran down his neck. With a heavy swallow, he raised it a second time before ever putting it down. Oddly, it seemed to drift back down onto the table of its own accord. His sleepy eyes glared at two fingers pressing down in his wrist.
“I never thought I would say this, boy,” said Owen. Those unfocused eyes rose up to meet the hunter’s. “But I think ye might have had quite enough already.”
Xavier scoffed, then gestured around the room. “Look around you, hunterr,” he slurred. Owen humored him with a token glace over his shoulder. “Can’t you feel the energy tonight? We’re celebrating! Our friend has been captured while we stood by and did nothing.”
“Lower your voice,” Liam warned, glancing around to see if anyone was listening. The situation was bad enough without anyone suspecting they were affiliated with Viola in any way. But as far as he could tell, their quiet group was practically invisible to this drunken bunch. If anything, their lack of enthusiasm was the only thing that might be making them stick out.
“They are going to make her fight in the pit, and she will die like so many before her,” said Xavier, his voice breaking with intermittent laughter. “We promised to protect her, and now look at what’s happened. This might just be our greatest failure ever. So why shouldn’t we celebrate? Cheers!” He slammed his mug into Owen’s, shattering them both. Owen leaped up, hands in the air to avoid at least some of the spray. Glass scattered across the sticky tavern floor, adding more mess to the already substantial amount of spilled ale. Disgusted, Xavier tossed the broken handle down onto the table and turned to go sit at the bar.
Strangely, the aggressive outburst didn’t seem to attract the slightest bit of attention. If anything, perhaps the show of emotion made them fit in a little better. Liam raised a pointed eyebrow at Owen. “There isn’t a damn thing I can do about it,” Owen replied, answering the unasked question. “It just needs to run its course. Anything I say or do will just push him further away.”
“Wise words,” Liam agreed. “Some demons a man must face alone.”
“Aye.”
“I’m not certain if this is just a human thing, or the typical male ego that seems to infect all species,” Thatra intervened, clearly annoyed. “I don’t know about you two, but I see a troubled friend who needs our support. If you will excuse me.” She pushed back her seat and left to join Xavier at the bar.
Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Xavier glanced back briefly before returning his attention to a fresh drink. Thatra cringed upon watching him drain half the mug in one large gulp, but decided against drawing any more attention to his excessive drinking. He likely wouldn’t take kindly to any more criticism. Xavier slammed it back down, a mass of froth sliding down its side, collecting near its base. “Her mind was made up,” he said, unfocused eyes wandering aimlessly around the wet-ringed bar top. “She was determined to leave us, and nothing I said or did was going to make a difference.”
“And she was wrong to do so,” Thatra said, reaching out to steady him before he tipped over. “She made a mistake. We all do from time to time, but what’s done is done. We need to stay focused now. As far as we know she is still alive and unharmed. The king obviously has plans for her, so that alone has bought us time.” Xavier brought the mug up once more, only to have it slapped back down. “Time we cannot afford to waste drinking.” Already she had broken her promise to herself about not mentioning his drinking. Unable to watch any longer, she simply couldn’t help it. “Xavier, she needs us to be focused, clean, and sober. Do you understand? Are you with me on this?”
“I’m wissh you,” came a slurred voice from behind. Surprised, Thatra rose up on her toes as an open hand cupped her rear. She slapped the hand away and twirled around. Short, but really only when compared to her, a young man stood there grinning. His face was shadowed in stubble, and a rather poor excuse for a beard proved to her that he might even be younger than he looked. Still
wearing that ear-to-ear grin, he turned to call across the tavern. “Huager look, a teggerin! There is a teggerin here!” Following his gaze, she could only assume he was speaking to the man across the way. Not even acknowledging his friend, the man had a bar maid on each lap, and seemed quite busy at the moment.
“I’m a tarrin,” Thatra corrected, raising an eyebrow at the odd young man. “And if you don’t mind, I’m speaking to my friend here.”
“Oh come on,” he begged, having his hand slapped away again when he boldly reached around her backside for the second time. “You’re working, right? How mussh? I’ll pay you more than he is. I’ve never been with a teggerin!” She almost corrected him a second time, but laughed instead as she watched him fumble around for his coin purse. Slipping, his foot came straight up, arms twirling wildly. The warrior reached out, grabbing his collar just before he tumbled backward. This only made her laugh harder at the ridiculous human.
She should have been offended by his awkward advances, but somehow she wasn’t. Simply drunk, no different than all the other humans here, he had mistaken her for a working girl he could purchase for the night—an honest mistake, given that most of girls here fell squarely into that crowd. Yet she found it flattering in some peculiar way. Perhaps it was just his liquor talking, and he would almost certainly think differently come morning, but it never really occurred to her that a human might find her attractive.
For a fleeting moment, she actually entertained the idea. The company of a human might prove to be...interesting. Not unlike his claim, she had never seen many humans until recently, and certainly had never bedded one for an evening. But she shook away the entertaining thought. They had bigger problems. She had no time for such nonsense. Even so, this aggressive young man needed to be taught a lesson before she simply let him go.
She stepped towards him, chest out, drawing herself up to her full height. Nearly a head taller than the human, her milky white eyes looked him up and down. “I am not for sale, human. And even if I were, I’m not so certain you would survive the experience.” Touching his slender shoulders, she slid her hands down to his biceps and clenched. With a sudden iron-like grip, she lifted him off the ground. Feet dangling, only now was he able to look her directly in the eye. Her arms bulged with tension, yet she held him easily, showing no signs of strain.
