Stranger Passing: The Sword and the Flame Novella

Chapter 1

Author's Note: Hello agan, everyone! Starting this week, I'm sharing the first novella that takes place within my Sword and the Flame universe. Hope you enjoy it. :)

The cold rain pelted against his cloak as Reinhart's leather-gauntleted fist hammered against the wooden gate. A moment after his final strike, a grating sound of metal on metal cut through the night air as the gatekeeper pulled aside a slide cover big enough to reveal a portion of his face.

The gatekeeper had never been one to appreciate being awakened in the dead of night. Irritable at what his life had become, his grizzled face peered through the opening in a sneer towards the stranger. "What in blazes do ya want at such an hour?"

Reinhart lifted the hood of his cloak from his head, allowing his eyes to be seen, and locked them on the gatekeeper's. "Entrance into your city."

The gatekeeper stared at him for a few seconds in an effort to size the man and his profession. Men coming to the gate at such a late hour had a reason for doing so, not that it was his business. He just didn't want to have his job questioned and be put out onto the street like a common beggar. Feeling he was a good judge of character, the gatekeeper nodded and closed the slide cover. Loud clanking noises signaled the locks on the gate were being opened and the door positioned in the center of the massive wooden wall opened enough to allow Reinhart entrance into the small city.

The fact the door opened at all surprised Reinhart, as he expected to be told to move along. Had he been a bandit, this would've been a golden opportunity. Whatever reason the gatekeeper had for allowing him entrance, he wouldn't complain and was pleased to have the opportunity for a dry bed to sleep in for the night. Once inside, the gate closed behind him and he got his first good look at the gatekeeper.

Despite the man's age, he had a burly build with white tousled hair and dirty beard. The sword held in his right hand was steady, telling more about his combat prowess than would've been possible had Reinhart not been deemed worthy of entrance. He wagered the man could've face an Ogre and won when he was younger. The look in the man's eyes told Reinhart his assessment was correct.

"All right, yer in. No trouble from ya, else the Magistrate will have yer skin." There were few duties the man had as gatekeeper, but one of them was to assess anyone entering the city. The new arrival's demeanor showed his knowledge of weaponry, but unless he did something stupid by the gatekeeper's post, his skill wouldn't be tested. With his work done for the moment, the gatekeeper turned towards the small alcove off to the right of the gate. Behind the alcove stood a small stone hut he used as a home when not on duty.

The sight of the man's dwellings reinforced Reinhart's conviction when it came to his life on the road. Being a ranger was anything but easy, but it proved more dignified than being thrust aside and having to work for the bread one already earned. Without owing his loyalty to a man or crown, he was free to do as he pleased. At least, the man that greeted him had a roof over his head; many couldn't claim that much as a benefit to their job following years of service.

Reinhart couldn't help but notice the man's severe limp as he walked. Most people walking in such a manner were either born with the malady or suffered an injury of some sort. The way the man held his sword and the look in his eye when he stared Reinhart down left little doubt as to the man's profession before being "retired." Woe to the warrior forced to survive as that wretch was forced to, with no dignity or respect from any but the occasional passing warrior.

The ranger pulled his cloak tight around his neck while forcing the images and thoughts of his own future away. Was it truly better to live with the possibility of having no one to mourn his death? Was the freedom the life of a ranger offered worth dying in some unknown forest on the blade of some half-assed warrior dreamer? The question never bothered him much, but when it did, it made itself known to him with a vengeance.