Dimensional Log A1: Dimensional Log, #1

By NG Daniels

Welcome to the world of N G Daniels. A blind man whose talents will teleport you to new worlds and take you to new dimensions.

 

An anthology of Science Fiction & Fantasy, Daniels brings you the best of both worlds with a twist at the end of each. The novellas and short stories will leave you with a sense of wonder, excitement, and awe. Be warned, once you cross over, you might not make it back. So be sure to mark your location before you take the first step.

• Language: English
• Publisher: NG Daniels
• Release date: Sep 16, 2021
• ISBN: 9781716071331

Book preview

Dedication

For the longest time, I have been wanting to do this. I dedicate this anthology to my son, Justin, and my granddaughter, Jamie. And, of course, to my daughter-in-law, Kyla.

I also would like to thank Lucki, Larry, Chris, Jen, Robin, Will, and my parents. Believe it or not, I have two sets, and I love them both very much.

I am throwing in the dogs, cats, and all others who have passed through my life. I love you all, and I am grateful for your support and patience with me on this project. I hope to have more in the future.

Acknowledgments

To Kevin Doc Eddy, who put the time in to check and edit my proofread, I am grateful. I thank my friends who read my work in the raw and put up with all of the mess before printing. For all of my other supporters: Cæsar Zuniga, Elsa Escobar, Joseph Jenkins, Alonso Ledzama, Dr. Roy Klassen, and his son Darren Klassen (1969-2019), Julian Roque, and my good friend Manuel Player Ramirez.

And for the last, to all of the writers who have preceded me. If it were not for those authors lighting the flame of thought in my mind, I would not even have tried.

Backbiter

As the opposing armies arrayed themselves on the field, Rylo stood among the heavy infantry of the Hussac army. The calm spring day was warm, and a slight breeze flew by the treetops, a perfect day for a battle. Rylo stood tall in his heavy breastplate, arm and leg grieves, and helm. As they prepared for the coming fight, the creaking of leather and clang of metal was all around. To the left, archers lined up with armored men in front of them for protection. To the right were the heavy horsemen with lance and shield at the ready.

Rylo was excited about the coming battle, and his heart was pumping in anticipation of the clash that would soon come. His face hid behind the visor of his helm, but there was a smile under it.

Rylo could feel his sword’s power coursing through his gauntleted hand and up through his arm. This time, his feelings were not of victory as he had felt so many times before, but internal apathy.

He spent all morning arguing with Krite, his sword. Krite would not let up about the enlistment into the Hussac army. Krite argued that the Hussac army was wrong and that enlisting with them was a mistake. The Brero were only defending what was theirs, no more, no less.

Rylo did not care about who was right or wrong. When it came to deciding who to join, the only things that mattered to a mercenary were gold and prestige. Krite continued to press the issue, but Rylo had hardened his heart and stifled Krite’s complaint. Rylo thought he had won the argument and was satisfied that Krite finally saw the matter’s truth.

The conversation was underway. The scene was of banners flapping in the breeze. Rylo could see the pretty white horses and the glint of jewel-encrusted sword hilts and the flash of highly polished armor of the Nobles riding out in the vanguard. Rylo fantasized about being in the van with them and sitting on his warhorse, glaring over at the enemy.

The kings came close, the talks began, and they passed many vibrant words between them. Several of the insults were much sharper than any sword or ax on the field this day. There was sword rattling, dirty mother insults, and spittle flying in faces. Once this ceased, the kings delivered the final ultimatums with passion before they finished and returned to their respective armies.

You are not going to start this again? Rylo thought in his head as he felt Krite’s hostility throbbing in his arm while the kings argued.

I will not stand for it! Krite answered. Do you hear them? I can hear their insults!

So?

Did you hear them? Krite’s voice was a shout in Rylo’s mind.

None of my business, Rylo thought with a touch of sarcasm. We are paid to do a job and do it well. Why does it matter to you, anyway? You’re just a sword!

Just a sword! Just a sword— Krite gave a mental huff. I have saved your neck more times than you can count. Oh, that’s right, you can’t count. I do this all for you, remember?

I’m the one who wields you, and that makes you mine, not the other way around. I command where you go, and you serve, Rylo said in an arrogant tone.

Oh, really! Krite replied with a touch of resentment. We shall see about that.

How would you like me to melt you down? A volcano, perhaps? Or a smithy’s forge? Or would you like me to drop you into some secluded lake?

You wouldn’t! Krite sounded incredulous. After all, to think of what he had done for this want-to-be soldier.

Keep this up, Rylo threatened, and I may.

We shall see— Krite trailed off. The feeling in Rylo’s hand made his mind go back to the same old bloodlust he had felt before, except a bit less. Rylo smiled and said, That’s better.

Time seemed to creep, but Rylo knew that the battle would be forthcoming as the two kings parted with screams of death. The glamor of the parley was over, and the bloodletting would soon commence. Everyone was restless as the Hussac King and his van of nobles passed back through the skirmish line. The leaders then passed reassuring words down the ranks as they pepped the men on to victory. Rylo could not even remember the king’s name as he rode up and down the line. His harsh voice carried as he raged on about the enemy and how they squashed them under the Hussac’s gauntleted fist. Rylo just wanted to fight, and he was more than ready to conquer the enemy.

The dreams of wine, women, and song danced in Rylo’s mind. The thought of victory and prestige filled his heart — regardless of what Krite thought.

Krite kept his thoughts to himself, inwardly disgusted. Is there no way to be rid of this once-valiant man?  Krite thought. He then had an idea, and a good one at that.

The Hussac King was finished with his speech and entered the ranks to take up a position. Then, a sharp, high-pitched horn sounded for the army to get ready for the advance. More horn blasts sounded, which set the cavalry to prepare for a charge. Again, the horns blared for the infantry to advance. The air sang with metal scraping as the infantrymen drew their swords. Then, the king heard the clanking of armor plates as the infantry began their march toward the enemy.

Two hundred paces seemed like miles as the Hussac army marched across the field. The horns sounded for the cavalry as the horsemen rushed past the infantry on the right with thundering hooves. Twangs from the Hussac archers on the left stopped singing their song of death long enough for the cavalry to plunge deep into the Brero skirmish line. Rylo felt a pang of jealousy that they might not leave anything to fight once the famed Hussac cavalry finished their devastating attack. He hoped that the pace would quicken a little. As if hearing his prayer, it did.

The horns sounded for the infantry to charge, and the pace picked up, closing the distance with a mad rush of shield and sword. The Hussac cavalry had done their job of wreaking havoc on the Brero skirmish line. As more Hussac volleys rained down on the newly disarrayed Brero army, they returned arrows of their own.

Shafts of enemy missiles fell from the sky upon the advancing Hussac infantry. A man fell next to Rylo. The fletching of the arrow protruded from between his fingers at the man’s throat. Rylo sidestepped the dead man’s body. Blood was nothing new.

Another Hussac soldier paused long enough to break and pull the arrow’s shaft from his thigh before continuing. To Rylo’s right, an arrow sprouted in a soldier’s chest. The man fell at his very next step, dead before he hit the ground. It was the same everywhere. A few fell here, and a few fell there, but that did not hinder the mad rush as the men felt the bloodlust rushing through their veins.

The Hussac battle cry went up as the soldiers met the enemy. It was a simple parry for Rylo and then a death blow that never struck home! Rylo was stunned.

He had a perfect opening on the Brero soldier. There was no way he could have missed! The feel of Krite filled his body with the same bloodlust that he had always felt. Rylo parried anew as the enemy Brero attacked, and then he tried again. The man caught his attack and riposted. Krite moved fluently and stopped the Brero’s returned attack with ease.

But the Brero soldier facing Rylo made a fatal mistake, and Rylo, with the advantage, missed again! The enemy soldier could not be that good, Rylo thought. Rylo again missed, but only by a fraction of a hair.

What are you doing? Rylo held Krite up before him. The Brero soldier was startled by Rylo’s outburst. The man quickly snapped back to the task at hand and pressed another attack. Again, Krite moved Rylo’s arm fluently to block. The ring of the clash sounded clearly in both of their ears. Rylo’s eyes were filled with bloodlust as he went berserk and pressed with a flurry of blows that should have gotten through but did not.

Rylo stopped right in the middle of the raging battle.

Holding Krite up before him again, he yelled, What are you doing?

The enemy soldier stopped in utter confusion and then answered. I am defending my country! Then he launched a counterattack of his own. Without another thought, Rylo’s arm moved effortlessly to block the enemy’s sword strikes. Krite was true to his word.

What do you think you are doing? Rylo asked again. I control you, not you me!

Wrong, Krite answered.

The Brero soldier stopped again. Are you daft, man?

Shut up! Rylo spat at the man. Can you not see that I am busy?

The Brero soldier just shook his head as he backed away before searching for another enemy to fight while muttering, They’ll hire even crazies to fight for them, the dirty dogs.

What do you mean, wrong? Rylo yelled while ignoring the fight going on around him.

You do not control me, nor I you.

Rylo furrowed his brows and curled his lips in a disgusted look of puzzlement and fury. Another Brero soldier ran at Rylo with a battle cry, Die, Hussac heathen!

Again, Rylo effortlessly blocked the onslaught of swings and thrusts. Rylo then wanted to be sure that Krite was not controlling him and struck back at the Brero soldier. Still nothing.

Why do you thwart me so? Rylo screamed. Again, the Brero soldier paused.

Thwart you? the soldier asked. I want to kill you!

Be gone, dog! Rylo snarled at the soldier, a slather of spittle drooled from his mouth. The soldier attacked him again, but Rylo just ignored him as he went back to speaking with his sword aloud.

You are impossible. I do not believe you are doing this to me!

Krite easily parried the Brero’s attacker. I wanted you not to do this. Krite moved Rylo’s arm to catch an overhand hack from a Brero soldier that came from behind. I do not like the Hussac King, and I do not wish to let him win.

I do not care who wins. We have been paid a generous amount of gold to fight.

The Brero soldier behind Rylo ran up to tackle him, but Krite caused Rylo’s gauntleted fist to pummel the soldier with a backhand. All the while, Rylo walked through the battlefield as if on a quiet spring day by the lake.

You are wrong! Krite exclaimed. First, you were paid the gold, as I have no use for it. Second, I do not like your attitude and wish you would change your ways. Third, I will not kill for you, nor let you be killed without cause.

Great. Rylo stretched the word out sarcastically. Krite parried yet another attack that Rylo would have never seen coming. A sword with a conscience.

Yes! Krite jabbed.

You are just a sword. So, what right do you have to say what a man does with you?

The soldiers surrounded Rylo. Krite deftly moved him around, and none of their attacks fell close. Rylo hardly noticed the battle now since he began the argument with his sword.

I have every right to do so. You do not own me, but I have accepted you, Krite retorted.

Ha! when I found you, you would not shut up! You babbled for days!

There was another flurry of attacks from the Brero soldiers. Krite caused Rylo to jerk, dodge, and parry. The soldier’s faces filled with puzzled looks.

Rylo continued, You were begging me to take you. You promised me glory, fame, and gold. And now you are going back on your word!

The two closest soldiers to Rylo looked at one another and then back at Rylo. One of them then asked Rylo, Who are you talking to?

Shut up! I am arguing with my sword. The Brero soldier was taken aback by Rylo’s snap.

Fine then. Suit yourself. The two soldiers then attacked Rylo at the same time. The Hussac’s anger waxed great, and he tried his hardest to strike the men down, but with no luck. Rylo screamed a blood-curdling yell, which gave the Brero men pause.

Blast you! Rylo shouted down at the sword. I shall throw you away!

‘E’s bloomin’ mad, Charlie, one soldier said to the other.

Then he should be easy to kill, Charlie rejoined.

Ah dunno. Seems to me ‘e’s good with that sword of ‘is.

Maybe ‘e’s demon-possessed! Both men’s eyes lit up with fright. They both backed away and moved off into the fray.

Men from both sides fell all around Rylo and Krite. To Rylo’s irritation, not one was from his arm. The battle line had moved away from him as the Hussac army pressed the Brero on the defensive. Rylo stood enraged at the audacity of Krite’s contempt for him. Rylo’s face was almost purple with anger; he was visibly shaking.

Listen to me! Krite pleaded with Rylo. You can just walk away, and we will start over.

But I do not want to start over! Rylo stomped his foot and flexed his arms like a petulant child.

The Hussac soldiers that passed him on the field looked over at him with questioning eyes.

Then fight for the Brero! Krite screamed in Rylo’s head.

What? Rylo said through gritted teeth. Many near him who could see through his visor and the expression on his face moved a few paces away. I am a mercenary. I fight for the side that pays me!

Not anymore, you do not.

Rylo looked to the left and then right. What are you looking for?

I am looking for a place to bury you!

Come now, Rylo. Be reasonable. I will work for you as long as you follow the rules.

Never! Rylo’s anger lifted higher. Never again shall a hand wield you!

Ha! A hand will wield me again. But by someone with more skill! Krite said with confidence.

Rylo’s voice went deadly calm. Oh, you think so?

You are just an average warrior that would not have lasted a minute in this battle without me, Krite taunted.

You, stupid piece of metal! Instead, I think I will have you melted down into a fine trinket to hang around my neck.

You, stupid piece of meat! I do not know why I even keep you alive!

The Brero army rallied and pushed the Hussac infantry back. The line was inching ever closer, and Krite taunted Rylo even harder. I know who will win this battle. The Brero!

As Krite hoped for, Rylo, in a fit of ultimate rage, threw Krite high into the air and yelled, Fine! Go to the dogs! I will defeat the Brero without your help!

Krite arced and spun through the air over the battle line as Rylo looked around for a fallen sword — Hussac or Brero, it did not matter — and found one. Rylo picked up the new blade and hefted it once to judge its weight before plunging into the battle. He cut deep into the enemy as men fell before Rylo’s frustration from Krite’s harsh words. This rage caused the Hussac to rally around him and push the Brero army back. The skirmish line moved several yards, then Rylo knew only black as someone hit him from behind.

*       *       *       *       *

When Rylo woke, he was nearly naked as all of his armor had been stripped, and he was wearing only his leather pants and boots. Heavy fetters bound his hands