The Emperor's Guard

  The Emperor’s Guard

  The Resurrected © 2019 by Kevin Hopson

  Hunting Glory © 2020 by Kevin Hopson

  Traitor’s Mark © 2020 by Kevin Hopson

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or events, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover art by Warren Design & Dorothea Liseth Roaldsnes

  Cover design by Warren Design

  Edited by Doug Laycock

  First Edition February 2021

  THE RESURRECTED

  CHAPTER ONE

  Asgall sat across from the middle-aged man. He’d been the victim of a recent attack and stared at the solid oak table in front of them, either too embarrassed to speak or trying to hide his swollen eye.

  “What did he look like?” Asgall asked.

  He glanced at Asgall, briefly meeting the commander’s gaze before setting his sights on the table again. “Tall. Heavy build. Dark beard.”

  “Sounds like several men I know, including a member of the Guard I have standing outside.”

  The man shook his head. “He wore another insignia.”

  “What?”

  “He wore the mark of the Resurrected.”

  # # #

  Gazing out a window atop the palace, Asgall noticed the fire getting closer. What started out as a distant glow only days before had manifested into a blaze, engulfing the woodlands outside the city walls and encroaching more each day.

  “Do you think it’s a coincidence, sir?” Colum asked, his blue eyes unflinching. Despite being the youngest member of the Guard, Asgall depended on him greatly.

  “The fire and the Resurrected?” Colum nodded. “We’ll have to send out a scouting party to be sure, but there’s something else I need to do first.”

  “What, sir?”

  “Ensure the Emperor is safe.”

  # # #

  Ever since the attempted coup months ago, more and more people were refusing to obey the laws of the land. The power struggle left doubt in the minds of many, encouraging some to challenge authority. Asgall moved through the palace, the memories paining him along the way. Several of his men had turned traitors in their attempt to oust the Emperor, and Asgall had been forced to take lives, some of them friends. The Res, or Resurrected, defectors of the Emperor’s Guard, were growing in numbers. They kept to the forest at first, but now they were becoming bolder. Stronger.

  # # #

  A strange wailing sound came from the Emperor’s bedroom as Asgall neared. He rested an ear against one of the double doors, but the room had gone quiet.

  “Is everything okay, Your Highness?” he asked.

  No reply.

  Asgall wrapped his fingers around the dagger’s handle, pulling it from its sheath along his belt. He pressed the palm of his other hand against the thick wood, pushing open the heavy door and peeking inside.

  The Emperor sat in the corner of the room, fidgeting with something. He turned to Asgall. “Good morning, Commander. Would you mind helping me with this boot?”

  # # #

  After assisting the Emperor with his wardrobe, Asgall eased into a velvet-covered chair. The Emperor sat along the edge of his canopy bed, the burgundy coverlet matching the hue of Asgall’s leather armor. Consisting of a head rest and two posts at the foot of the bed, the intricately-carved awning was designed by one of the city’s finest carpenters.

  The Emperor stood and made his way over to a free-standing mirror. He grasped a comb, gliding it through his russet hair. “What would you like to discuss, Commander?”

  “An incident, Your Highness. One of the Res has infiltrated our walls.”

  # # #

  Asgall proceeded to enlighten the Emperor, detailing the victim’s statement from earlier in the day.

  “Do we know for certain that the assailant was an outsider?” the Emperor asked.

  Asgall shook his head. “No, Your Highness. It’s possible that we still have dissent from within.”

  “If you have a plan, I’d like to hear it.”

  “My primary concern is your safety, which is why I’ve posted more men to the palace. However, I’d like to send a small scouting party to Niverborg Forest, and I personally want to head up the search for the Res.

  The Emperor nodded. “Do it.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “You’re leaving now?” Bedo objected.

  Owin was a full head taller than the man and a hundred pounds heavier, too. He could have introduced Bedo to his knuckles if he desired, but it wasn’t Owin’s style.

  “I’ve done my job,” Owin replied. “The longer I wait, the more difficult it will be.”

  Bedo took a long breath. “You’ll need help escaping the city. They’re stopping everyone at the gate now that the news is out.”

  Bedo handed Owin a small bag, which Owin grasped and shoved in the pocket of his cloak.

  “I know someone who can assist,” Bedo said.

  # # #

  Owin had anticipated a dark alleyway, someplace secluded and withdrawn from the center of the city. What he found, however, was just the opposite. The shop was situated along a main street where plenty of people went about their day. Thankfully, the damp and cool conditions warranted certain attire, so no one gave Owin a second look as he approached in his cloak. He lifted a boot to the set of steps, the weathered wood creaking under his weight. Before he even made his way to the top, the door opened, and an elderly figure appeared.

  “Quickly,” he said. “Inside.”

  # # #

  Owin sized up the man as he sat opposite of him at the table. Bifocals rested on top of the man’s narrow nose, and patches of white hair sprouted from each side of his head like moss on a tree.

  “Bedo sent me,” Owin said. “He said you could help.”

  The man nodded. “You’re a member of the Resurrected?”

  Owin didn’t answer. He had no idea of the man’s allegiances, so it was best to be discreet.

  “You needn’t be concerned,” the man said. “We’re all brothers fighting the same fight.”

  Owin’s gut told him the man was being truthful.

  # # #

  Owin inspected the room. Against the far wall, there was a countertop with a glass display below. Dummy heads, with wigs attached, lined the case. At least a dozen of them.

  Owin glanced at the elder. “You’re going to disguise me?”

  The man shook his head. “No. We don’t need to take those measures.”

  “What then?” Owin looked away, but a gentle caress of his neck caused him to flinch. He noticed the man’s finger only inches from his throat. “What are you doing?”

  “Just determining its size. I can conceal it, and the guards will never know the difference.”

  # # #

  The cobblestone streets turned to puddled gravel, then mud, as Owin neared the city’s front gate, his boots meeting more resistance with each step. After examining himself in a mirror at the elder’s shop, Owin felt comfortable with the man’s work. However, one concern continued to linger. Prior to yesterday, Owin hadn’t been inside the city’s walls for months, and his thick beard and long hair were recent additions. Still, he wondered if certain people would recognize him. Even with the cloak, his size drew wanderi
ng eyes from time to time, but it was the guard’s scrutiny he feared most.

  # # #

  Owin spotted the stone archway ahead, five soldiers standing between him and freedom. One soldier occupied the guard shack while the other four were divided into two pairs. Two of the men had their backs to Owin, situated along the outer part of the archway. Given his familiarity of the city and its workings, Owin knew their job was to be cautious with anyone attempting to enter. The other two soldiers faced him, their eyes scanning the small square. Those same men eventually set their sights on Owin. He met their gaze and breathed deep before coming to a halt.

  # # #

  “Where are you going?” a soldier asked, approaching from the right.

  The second soldier, the shorter of the two, closed the gap to Owin’s left. Both wore plated torso armor, resting a hand on the hilt of their swords as they neared.

  “Dimbarrow,” Owin said.

  “Lower your hood,” the taller one commanded. Owin obliged. The man tilted his head and squinted. “He shows no mark.”

  “The elders don’t have marks,” the other soldier interrupted.

  “Does he look like an elder?”

  The shorter soldier shrugged. “Hard to tell with a beard like that.”

  The lead soldier eyed Owin again. “Carry on.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  The little boy’s idea of heaven was staring straight at him. Asgall couldn’t help but smile at the child’s comment, and he glanced at Colum before turning his attention back to the boy.

  “So, you want to be a member of the Emperor’s Guard one day?” Asgall asked.

  Sitting in the alley with his back against a stone building, the boy nodded, his mother hovering over him.

  “What if I were to make you an honorary member of the Guard?”

  The boy’s hazel eyes bulged, a grin stretching across his face. “Really?”

  “Of course. Would you like to help us?”

  # # #

  “A gentleman was attacked in this alleyway last night,” Asgall said. He looked over his shoulder and stared at the building behind him. “He remembers a light coming from that window up there. It’s where you and your mom live.”

  “Yes, sir,” the boy said. “That’s my bedroom.”

  “Do you recall seeing him?”

  “I heard shouting and looked outside.”

  “And what did you see?”

  “It was dark, so it was hard to tell what the men looked like.”

  A slight moan escaped Asgall’s lips.

  “But I remember one was big,” the boy continued. “He might have had a beard, too.”

  # # #

  “The boy’s description seems to match our assailant,” Colum said.

  Asgall nodded as he walked alongside Colum. “But we have no idea who he is. Only that our victim saw him in the nearby tavern shortly before the altercation.”

  Colum stopped, his eyes narrowing. “How did he identify the symbol? As the boy mentioned, it was dark.”

  Asgall came to a halt. “He claims the insignia was burned into his neck. It even glowed in the dark.”

  “Glowed?”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “Was he drunk?”

  “He said he wasn’t.”

  Colum shrugged. “What now?”

  “We pay a visit to the tavern.”

  # # #

  Asgall had visited the tavern on a few occasions, but he wasn’t much of a drinker. It mattered little either way, though, because the head of the Guard never took a break from his duties. The same could be said for all of the men under his command. As Asgall stepped through the door, he spotted the barkeep straight ahead, Colum brushing against his shoulder as he passed. Several barrels lay on their side next to the counter, and a fire burned in a cozy room off to Asgall’s right.

  “Commander Boyd,” the barkeep said. “It’s good to see you.”

  # # #

  The tavern was empty except for a party of three at one table. Asgall’s boots scraped against the stone floor as he maneuvered toward the counter, Colum sidling up to him. Wooden planks creaked overhead, their weight supported by several large beams. The tavern also acted as an inn, so Asgall assumed some of the guests were moving about. He looked to the barkeep. The man had more hair on his round face than he did on his head.

  “How are you, Gille?” Asgall asked.

  “I’m okay, Commander. I’d offer you a drink, but I presume you’re here on business.”

  # # #

  Asgall took a seat at the bar, Colum following suit.

  “Are you aware of the altercation that took place last night?” Asgall inquired. Gille’s brows scrunched together. “Just down the street from here?” he elaborated.

  Gille shook his head.

  “There was a gentleman in here last night,” Colum said. “A big fellow with a beard. He wore a cloak.”

  “That’s about half of my clientele on any given night.”

  “He most likely would have kept to himself,” Asgall said.

  “Again. It doesn’t really help.”

  “You don’t owe them nothin’, Gille,” a man shouted from behind. “They’re the Guard after all.”

  # # #

  Colum had already gotten to his feet, standing in front of Asgall as the three men approached.

  “And who are you?” Asgall asked.

  “Ain’t none of your business,” the lead man replied.

  “Watch your tongue,” Colum barked. “You’re speaking to the Commander.”

  “I’d advise you to watch yours as well.”

  Colum took a step forward, a hand on the pommel of his sword. “Is that a threat? Because any threat to the Guard is considered a threat to the Emperor himself.”

  “We have a few open cells,” Asgall said, “if you and your friends would prefer spending the night there.”

  # # #

  Asgall worried that the confrontation would escalate, but his words gave the men pause. They paid their tab and left. However, it didn’t stop any of them from giving Asgall and Colum the evil eye on the way out.

  “Don’t mind them,” Gille said. “They don’t care much for authority.”

  “Obviously,” Colum said. “Unfortunately, it seems to be a growing theme among some of the people nowadays.”

  “Once again, I apologize. I wish I could help.”

  “We appreciate your time,” Asgall said.

  As the two of them made their way outside, Colum pulled Asgall aside. “I have a plan, sir.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  It took Owin until mid-afternoon to reach the encampment. Situated in the Niverborg Forest, several miles upwind from the raging fire, the camp consisted of nearly a dozen white tents, each one capable of sheltering a small group of soldiers. The pavilions stretched from one end of the clearing to the other. He neared one tent in particular, and a figure squeezed between the loose flaps as he loomed. A woman. Her head was shaved on both sides, and the mohawk on top had been grown out, extending past her shoulders.

  “Welcome back,” Nesta said. “Was your trip a success?”

  # # #

  Owin and Nesta sat inside the tent, facing one another. Despite being a foot shorter than him, the woman’s unwavering eyes forced Owin to swallow, a bit of uneasiness creeping up inside of him.

  “The fact you made it back,” she said, “gives me optimism.”

  Owin nodded. “I carried out your orders.”

  “And what about Bedo? Was he suspicious of your actions?”

  “No. He thought I’d been sent for another reason, but I hid my intentions well. He wasn’t expecting me to leave so soon, but I told him it couldn’t be helped.”

  “And you made your presence known?”

  �
�Yes.”

  # # #

  “Where have you been?” Berian shouted, parting the tent flaps and standing before Owin and Nesta. He wore a breastplate with a short sword sheathed at his side.

  Owin stood, and Nesta did the same. Owin stared at Nesta, waiting for her to speak, but she pursed her lips.

  “I’m talking to you,” Berian said, gawking at him.

  “Southwallow, sir,” Owin mustered.

  “Southwallow?” He glanced at Nesta and then eyed Owin again. “What in Hurdur’s name were you doing there?”

  “I sent him there,” Nesta said after a long pause.

  “You did what? Why would you send him to Southwallow?”

  # # #

  Berian was in Nesta’s face before Owin could even blink, and he feared Berian would strike her given the outburst.

  “It was a surprise, sir,” Nesta said. “We retrieved some important information for you.”

  “I don’t care what you retrieved,” he fumed. “You’re my second-in-command, and every request goes through me first. I should strip you of your rank for going behind my back.”

  “We know their defenses, sir,” Owin stuttered.

  “What?”

  “Southwallow. I found a map of their defenses.”

  “As former members of the Guard, we’re already aware of those things.”

  “No disrespect, sir, but that’s not entirely true.”

  # # #

  Owin could smell the ale on Berian’s breath. He titled his head forward and lowered his gaze, meeting the commander’s glare.

  “What do you mean by that?” Berian asked.

  “Things have changed since the attempted coup,” Owin said. “They’ve taken different measures. Surely you didn’t expect them to carry on as before, especially when their enemy came from within.”

  Owin wanted to take those last words back, and he expected Berian to lash out, but the commander nodded instead.

  “Where is this map you mentioned?”

  “I couldn’t take it without drawing suspicion, sir, but I memorized every part of it.”

  # # #

  Nesta waited until Berian was well clear of the tent and no other soldiers were lurking in the vicinity. She turned to Owin.