by Janean Worth
Mathew glanced at him in concern, wondering if he meant them harm. Beneath the hood, Truchen’s gaze met his as the man helped to lift the massive bar free of its binding.
“I wish to come with you. I have seen the right way, and I want to come with you,” the man murmured, his words for Mathew’s ears alone.
Mathew nodded, wordless with surprise.
In seconds, the bar was freed.
With a group effort, they pushed the massive wooden sides of the Gate wide open, freeing them once again from the Sovereign’s dominion.
As the Gate swung open, the sun topped the far horizon, stippling the meadow beyond in bright streaks of butter yellow and lighting the way to the wilderness, and freedom, beyond.
Mathew mounted Gallant once again, and saw that Truchen had grabbed the mane of one of the riderless horses and was struggling to mount the bareback bay. Kara flung herself up onto the back of the little filly, and the group burst out of the Gate.
The Strays around them gave a shout of triumph as they left GateWide behind. Mathew glanced over his shoulder and saw that the Enforcers, still afoot, had not broken off their pursuit. The mounted Strays and tracken quickly outdistanced them, and the riderless horses continued to follow along. Together, they left GateWide behind, journeying toward the city, and the safety of the unknown.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Gabert struggled through the tangle of foliage, slogging through the swampy sludge beneath his boots. He knew he must have stumbled inside the dreaded Mire. He had, heretofore, only glimpsed the awful place on the map that hung in the Sovereign’s private antechamber on the one occasion that he had been unfortunate enough to be invited there to ‘discuss private matters’. At the time, discussing private matters had meant trying to come up with a plan to capture the Enforcers who had deserted the Sovereign and GateWide.
Gabert tried to recall any information that he had ever overheard about the Mire, but he could only remember two things: its general location on the map which was far, far from GateWide, and that it was a treacherous and deadly place to be.
He now knew a third thing: that the Mire had been aptly named by whomever had given the place that moniker. The ground that he struggled over was slick with putrid smelling mud that sucked at his boots and threatened to mire him down into its foul smelling depths. Every step was a struggle, and Gabert had begun to wonder why he was even bothering to try to survive any longer. In the Mire, it was obvious to him that he would not last long. He had belatedly realized that he should have stayed in the Old Forest, because even with its infestation of Fidgets, it was far less treacherous than the Mire he had stumbled into. When he had finally realized that fact, it had been too late, because he had been lost in the Mire by then and now seemed unable to find his way back out again.
He had been stumbling around the Mire for what seemed like forever, and even his considerable strength was beginning to flag. He knew that he should probably just allow the place to swallow him up and go ahead and die as he’d told Truchen that he would, but he couldn’t quite allow himself to part with his last precious gift: his own life.
There were insects and creatures in the Mire that he had never seen or heard about before, and he wondered at this place that was so different from GateWide, and also about the secrets of other similar places that the Sovereign kept from the citizens of the community. Small flying insects constantly bit at his exposed skin, leaving behind itchy welts, and when he had slapped at one on his arm, he realized that the things were also taking a small sample of his blood with their bite. This disgusted and frightened him. There were no such insects in GateWide. As with so many other things that he had seen since he had left behind his group of Enforcers, he hadn’t known of their existence, it had been kept from him along with many other secrets.
The Mire was also filled with snakes of every shape and size, and Gabert had given up trying to decide which ones were venomous and which weren’t, instead he made his best effort to avoid all of them. This was an impossible feat, as it seemed that the creatures could be found underfoot in the muddy water and in the hanging streamers of moss that draped the trees all around him.
Even the mud itself was like nothing he’d ever encountered before. Where GateWide and the surrounding meadow and forest were fairly dry and the ground firm, the Mire seemed to be mostly mud. The Mire’s muck was slick on top, filmed with a greenish coating of some slimy substance that smelled foul and rotten, and underneath it sucked at his feet as if it were trying to swallow him up, feet first.
As he slogged through yet another deep puddle of sludge, he wondered what the significance of his life had been. What had he accomplished? What had his life been about? He had never questioned his existence before, but now, faced with imminent death, he did. Why had he faithfully served the Sovereign for his entire life, even knowing how evil the man was? Why had he helped the Sovereign to heap suffering and misery upon so many in GateWide, particularly those who were innocent of any wrong doing and were, in fact, only children who had lost their parents?
As he now felt misery himself, he was shamed at how he had blithely helped to inflict it upon others so many times in the past without even thinking about it.
Gabert rubbed at a spot high up on his neck, just beneath his skull, that had begun to sting and continued to slog through the Mire as he wondered how he could have been a party to such heinous acts as he’d witnessed as an Enforcer to the Sovereign. Now that he had survived travelling through the Old Forest alone and on foot, he realized that he had had another option, though he hadn’t thought so at the time. Living in GateWide, he hadn’t thought that he had any options, but he realized now that he could have taken his family and escaped to the forest to try to live free of the Sovereign’s evil.
Living in GateWide had been all that he’d ever known, and being an Enforcer had been his goal since he’d come into adulthood. A place as an Enforcer was a coveted role in GateWide. Enforcers received the best of the best in the community. As an Enforcer, Gabert had always thought that he’d been doing what was right for his family, providing them with an Enforcer’s stature, an Enforcer’s income, and other perks that came from being one of the elite Enforcers, but now he knew that hadn’t been true. Now, he could see that he had been wrong. But now was too late.
His family was back in GateWide, already thinking him dead and gone, and he was in the Mire, where he was sure he would soon meet his demise since he could find no food or fresh water to sustain him as he searched for a way out of the fetid swamp.
He wondered about his lovely wife and their two sons. How were they faring with him gone? Had the Sovereign already removed them from the grand housing reserved only for the Enforcers of GateWide? Were they even now living in a hovel? Was his wife being forced to work in the House? Did they even have food to eat?
And what of Hedert and Truchen? Had they met a bad end because of Gabert’s own failure to catch the Stray that the Sovereign so coveted? Or, were they being forced to search for him, as he himself had been forced to search for so many others in the past?
He laughed loudly at the notion of his disappearance being kept a secret from the citizens of GateWide, as had the desertion of so many before him, and the derisive sound startled a bird from its hiding place among the thick growth of reeds to his left. The enormous white bird burst from its cover, lifting itself into the air with a startled sound that echoed out across the Mire. He watched the bird flap its enormous wings and fly away, easily gaining its freedom from the foul smelling swamp that held Gabert in its grasp, and wished that he could as easily have found his release.
The stinging in his neck reached a frenzied pitch, and his head began to throb from the pain of it. He wondered idly if a snake had bitten him without him having realized it, but when he ran his fingers over the area, he could feel no wound. Still the area throbbed horribly, and he rubbed at it with grubby, filth-encrusted fingers, wishing the pain way.
He was no stranger to pain, bu
t this pain was something altogether different from the aching muscles and joints that came from the daily Enforcer training that he’d endured all of his adult life. This pain was like the jabbing of a long-bladed knife scraping at the bone of his skull. For a moment, Gabert wondered if the Sovereign had found some way to reach him and kill him from afar, even as far away as he was in the Mire, but then he discarded that notion. If it had been possible to do so, the Sovereign would have done it many times before to others.
Gabert’s ears began to ring and his vision blurred as the pain reached a fever pitch. Dizziness assailed him and he stumbled to his knees in the slime, gagging at the smell of it as the mud oozed up his thighs.
Knowing that there was no one to hear him, Gabert allowed himself to scream with the pain as he felt himself begin to slide into unconsciousness. In the last flickering vestiges of his vision before it faded to black, he thought he saw an army of shadows surround him, closing in on all sides.
He tried to force the pain away and focus on the danger. The shapes were too tall to be Fidgets, weren’t they?
His hearing was the last of his senses to leave him, and he heard a popping sound from inside the bone of his own skull, originating from the center of the throbbing pain, and then he felt something small tear itself out of his skin and roll down his shoulder. A tiny plop sounded as the object fell from his shoulder into the mud surrounding him. The pain immediately began to lessen, but he could not stop his slide into unconsciousness, and the last thing he heard were the voices of some of the men that he had once hunted for the Sovereign. Ghosts from his past failures.
“It will be okay now, Gabert. The Sovereign’s tracking device has been removed,” said one of the voices. “The pain will fade.”
He had a moment to wonder if they were hallucinations, but the feel of strong hands upon his arms, lifting him from the mud, seemed incredibly real. His mind let go of consciousness, and he sailed away into black nothingness as his body was hauled upright and dragged through the Mire.
~~~~
I hope you have enjoyed reading THE SOVEREIGN’S SLAVES. If you liked the book, please consider leaving a review of it on Amazon.
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Do you like suspenseful Christian novels full of action and adventure?
If so, keep reading to find an excerpt from THE INVISIBLE, my new Christian Supernatural Thriller.
The Invisible
By Janean Worth
The more often we see the things around us - even the beautiful and wonderful things - the more they become invisible to us. That is why we often take for granted the beauty of this world: the flowers, the trees, the birds, the clouds - even those we love. Because we see things so often, we see them less and less - Joseph B. Wirthlin
The Invisible is a work of fiction. Characters, names, incidents, and places are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally, with much creative license. Any resemblance to actual locations, places, events or persons, either still living or deceased, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2016 by Janean Worth
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying, recording, xerography or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author, Janean Worth and the publisher, Author’s Art, www.authorsart.com
Cover photograph licensed from Adobe Stock Images
Cover design by Janean Worth www.janeanworth.com
Foreword:
This book deals with fictional characters who possess supernatural abilities. Although I have never personally met anyone who has been gifted with a supernatural psychic ability, I do believe that God blesses each of us with a gift as described in 1 Corinthians 12.
I also believe that, as described in Matthew 17:20, should any of us have faith the size of a mustard seed, nothing would be impossible for us. If we genuinely wanted to use our gifts only to serve God and His desires, and had sufficient faith, we could possibly be gifted with such physical gifts as I’ve seen fit to give the fictional characters on the following pages.
Chapter One
Connor Jensen hadn’t known how much more there was to the world until he was able to see what had previously been hidden from him. His journey had started out quite innocuously. He’d been on his way home from work and he’d taken the subway, as usual. It had been Friday evening, and he’d been looking forward to getting home, trading his work suit for a pair of sweats, and slumping down in front of the TV for a little rerun time. But then he’d met her and his life had changed forever.
He’d noticed the woman the moment she entered the subway car, and when she took the seat beside him, Connor had been rendered speechless at her beauty. Hers was not the traditional prettiness that so many women cultivated. No, she had something different about her, a beauty that seemed to emanate from inside. Of course, her face and form were gorgeous too, but it was something else that drew Connor to her. Something almost spiritual. She was completely without artifice. She wore no makeup that Connor could see—which, in his experience, was quite unusual for a woman—no nail polish, no cloying perfume, no eye shadow, lipstick, or face powder. Yet she seemed to be spectacularly beautiful to him. Her long blonde hair was loose and free around her face, and her blue eyes were clear and happy.
Connor was immediately drawn to her. He sat there beside her, arguing with himself. Should he be bold and ask for her number? Or should he be polite and ignore her presence? He was sure that, with her looks and inner beauty, men asked her for her phone number all the time. He was still arguing with himself when she spoke.
“Actually, you’d be surprised to know that no one ever asks me for my phone number.”
Her voice was as beautiful as the rest of her, and for a moment her words did not register. He heard only the sweet, husky timbre of her voice, and he was a little bewildered over the fact that she was talking to him. But then he realized what she’d said.
“Excuse me?” he asked, trying to be polite.
“You were wondering if you should ask for my phone number, and thinking that it might be rude, since so many other men must have done it before you. Weren’t you?”
Connor nodded dumbly. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I was. But how did you . . . ?”
“How did I know? Simple. I can read your mind. I can read the mind of almost anyone, really. Most people don’t know the secret of how to protect their thoughts, or even see the need for it at all. And, just for your information, most men don’t ask for my phone number because, quite truthfully, they usually cannot see me. It is quite odd that you can.”
Connor cleared his throat, trying to think of something polite to say. Why was it that, when he finally had the chance to talk to a beautiful woman—one who interested him in a way that he hadn’t been interested in for a very long while—she turned out to be insane?
She laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not insane. Far from it, actually. I don’t know what to call it exactly, but it is definitely not insanity. Perhaps extreme spirituality?”
“You really can read my mind, then?”
The woman winked at him, then put a finger to her lips in a motion for him to be quiet. She pointed to several of his fellow passengers, who were all looking at him oddly.
“You’d better stop talking to me, or they will think you are the insane one. You are the only person here who can see me, it seems.”
“But . . .” Connor looked around. The other passengers were,
indeed, looking at him oddly. He had so many questions for the woman, though. How was she able to read his mind? Why was he the only one to see her? He decided that he didn’t care if the other passengers thought he was crazy—it wouldn’t be the first time they’d seen someone crazy on the subway.
He opened his mouth to speak to her again, but she interrupted.
“Suit yourself. I don’t care if they think you are crazy, either.”
Connor couldn’t help it; he grinned. She was something else. But was what she said true? Connor decided to find out.
“Excuse me,” he asked the man sitting across the aisle from him. “Can you see the woman sitting next to me? She tells me no one can see her but me.”
The man’s eyes moved to the seat next to Connor, then back to Connor’s face, then back to the seat again. He looked a little afraid.
“No, there’s no woman sitting there. But, hey, man, if you say there is, I’m not going to argue with you.”
“Are you sure you can’t see her? She’s really quite pretty.”
The woman chuckled. “Thank you, Connor.”
The man looked nervous. “Uh, sure, if you say so.”
Connor laughed and turned back to the woman, certain that his fellow passengers thought he was certifiable now. And maybe he was. After all, he could see her quite clearly. Maybe she was an angel. Was it his time to die?
“No, you’re not insane. And, no, I’m not an angel, though if you can see me, you should be able to see them as well. And no, you aren’t about to die. To be honest, I’m not sure what is happening to you. As I said, you really shouldn’t be able to see me.”
“This started out to be a normal day. And, as far as I know, I can’t see angels. I haven’t seen anyone with wings all day.”
