Tales of High Fantasy

Tales of High Fantasy

by Robert E. Keller

Smart Goblin Publishing 2014

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

*The cover art for this book was created using paid, licensed, modified

stock images from Bigstock in an original interpretation.

Copyright © 2014 Robert E. Keller

Content Notice:

A collection of fantasy short stories.

About the Author:

Robert E. Keller is a fantasy writer who has had more than 30 stories published in online and print magazines, and he is the author of several epic fantasy novels. You can find more information on his projects at www.robertekeller.net

Other books by Robert E. Keller :

Novels:

Knights: The Eye of Divinity

Knights: The Hand of Tharnin

Knights: The Heart of Shadows

Knights: The Blood of Kings

Knights: Defenders of Ollanhar

Knights: Legends of Ollanhar

Knights: Shadows of Ollanhar

***

The Curse of Credesar

***

A Knight of Tharnin, Book I

Table of Contents:

Barrel Rider

Two Men and a Sword

Rage of the God Heads

Gauntlet of Winter, Sword of Spring

The Web of Bloated Indulgence

The Battering Ram at Doom's Gates

Brock Strangebeard and the Towers of Matterkill

Barrel Rider

(Originally published in Mirror Dance magazine.

Revised for this collection.)

Farmer Sneedon stood on the river bank and studied the barrel with great interest, wondering if this was his lucky day. It looked stout--made of some type of pale wood bound in what appeared to be iron rings--with strange markings burned into it. His fishing pole lay wiggling at his feet, its line in the river. But Farmer Sneedon couldn't have cared less if a fish had taken the bait or not. All he could see was the unusual barrel that had just drifted down the river and washed up on the bank next to the roots of a sprawling oak.

Can't understand how it opens, he muttered to himself, running his hands over the smooth wood and metal that felt strangely warm. The river ran on for hundreds of miles through forest and farmland before merging with a huge lake surrounded by towns and cities, and the barrel might have held something quite valuable. Sneedon gave no thought to whether or not he was justified in claiming it, since the barrel had little hope of returning to its owner. At last he smashed a rock down on the barrel, his eyes smoldering with determination. But he couldn't even scratch it.

He was startled by a noise like grinding metal, and a previously invisible door in the barrel's side swung open to reveal a small, bearded man within amid gears and levers. Farmer Sneedon leapt back, his eyes wide, the rock slipping from his fingers.

Well, hello there! he said in shock.

The little man stepped out of the barrel, grinning. He was an ugly midget. His bearded face was lined and wrinkled, his hook nose excessively long. His eyes were dark, like pools that revealed nothing except a mischievous glint, and his teeth were large and yellow. His red hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and like his beard, it was a series of tiny braids. He wore a plain brown tunic and brown trousers, and a leather belt with an oversized silver buckle encircled his waist. His black leather boots split in two at the ends like cloven hoofs. A broad, sheathed dagger with a rune-covered, silver handle hung from his belt.

He bowed. I am Gatheon Mudoolis, traveler from distant lands. And you are...? His breath smelled of whiskey.

Farmer Sneedon blinked, still overcome with surprise. I'm a farmer. Um . . . Sneedon, that is. Nate Sneedon. Nice to meet you. Clumsily, he extended his hand. For an instant, the oddness of the situation was so profound that he wondered if he was dreaming. Had a little man actually just stepped out of a barrel to greet him? He decided he was indeed awake and experiencing something remarkable that would hopefully lead to his great benefit.

The midget shook it. They call me a Barrel Rider, Mr. Sneedon. And can you guess why that might be? He chuckled, then cleared his throat. Anyway, I'm from inside the Gold Dust Belt, where people are smaller. I'm seeking to make my fame and fortune amongst the large folk.

But that's not possible, said Farmer Sneedon. No one travels through the Gold Dust Belt. It's poisonous to breathe. The Gold Dust Belt was a ring of vapor hundreds of miles long and at least three miles thick at any point. It was said to be of magical origin and of unknown purpose, created when the world was very young.

Gatheon pointed at his barrel, his chin held high with pride. She's airtight when I want her to be, Mr. Sneedon. Only a Barrel Rider like myself can travel through the Gold Dust Belt and live. Got just enough air in there to make it through--maybe even a little to spare. And we small folk can hold our breaths for a long time. His eyes gleamed with delight. My barrel can even travel upriver, against the strongest current.

Farmer Sneedon was impressed, but still baffled and taken aback. I've never heard of any little folk, he said. He pondered for a moment. Well, there are legends of gnomes living inside the Belt. But those are just children's stories.

Indeed, said Gatheon, waving his meaty hand in a dismissive gesture. You large people have such silly legends. I'm a man like you, Mr. Sneedon. Just smaller. Nothing magical about me--except for maybe my charm. He laughed. Anyway, I didn't mean to startle you. If you don't mind, I'm kind of hungry and I'd like some dinner. I'm a hard worker. He eyed the farmer's basket of fish and licked his lips.

Huh? said Farmer Sneedon, still trying to sort out the situation in his mind. He wiped sweat from his thin, weathered face. It wasn't every day that strange little men popped out of barrels. Sure, you can help with a few chores after dinner, and sleep in the guest room. Won't be a problem. I often let travelers stay at the farm in exchange for work. And I need some help catching up on things today.

Gatheon smiled warmly and extended his hand. Farmer Sneedon noticed it was just as calloused as his own, which meant the little man was probably indeed a hard worker. They shook hands again, and Sneedon thought the midget wasn't such a bad fellow. He had a lot of questions he wanted to ask, but he decided to wait until later, lest he scare the traveler away.

Thank you so much, my good, good man! said Gatheon. I'll do all I can to make it worth your while. First, I must hide my barrel in the woods. Please wait here for me, as no one can know its location.

You can bring it to the farm, said Sneedon. It should be safe enough there.

Gatheon shook his head several times. No, no, no. That wouldn't do at all. We little folk always hide our barrels, preferably near rivers. Plain and simple. No one must find it! It's nothing against you personally. It's just our way of doing things.

If you must, said Farmer Sneedon, with a shrug. The little fellow was odd, but pleasant enough. He had a certain charm about him that made him very likable. Farmer Sneedon felt this traveler would prove to be excellent company.

After Gatheon had carried his barrel off into the woods and then returned empty handed, Sneedon gathered his fishing gear and the two set off for the farm. As they walked, they spoke little, but questions kept building in Sneedon's mind. If the midget did indeed come from inside the Gold Dust Belt--a land that no one could visit--the farmer wanted to know all about it. Yet he held his tongue, determined to wait on his inquires until the little man smelled some cooking food and was less likely to get offended.

The farm was small--containing a horse, a few cows, about two dozen chickens, a goat, a barn, and a two-story house. They followed the road out of the woods, through a cornfield, and into a muddy yard. Farmer Sneedon's wife, Tamella, stood on the front porch, an uncertain smile on her lips as they approached.

Farmer Sneedon started to introduce his new companion, when Gatheon brushed past him, raced over, and planted a kiss on Tamella's hand. My beautiful lady, Gatheon said. I am more than pleased to be at your beck and call.

Tamella smiled in surprise and delight. She had been very pretty once, but like her husband, she was in her late forties and farm life had taken its toll on her. However, she still possessed some of her former beauty--especially when she smiled--and she retained most of the blond color in her lush, curly hair. Well aren't you a charming little fellow! And where did you find such a gentleman, my husband?

Farmer Sneedon explained what had happened.

Tamella's eyes were wide. What an unusual story. But you're certainly not from around here. Your fine manners alone are enough to tell me that.

They went inside. While Tamella fried up the fish her husband had caught, Farmer Sneedon tried to strike up a conversation with Gatheon, seeking to learn about his homeland and people. But the little man seemed suddenly distracted, and he gave vague answers that the farmer didn't find satisfying in the least. Finally, the farmer fell silent, deciding Gatheon was probably just hungry and would loosen his tongue after he'd had some fried fish (or else Gatheon really wasn't from inside the Gold Dust Belt in spite of his claim).

Gatheon kept his gaze fixed on Tamella, acting as if Farmer Sneedon wasn't there. The farmer started to comment on the weather, but Gatheon interrupted him. Beautiful lady, he said softly, the smell of your cooking is intoxicating.

Farmer Sneedon nodded. Yes, my wife is indeed a good--

And you have a lovely home, Mrs. Sneedon, Gatheon continued.

The farmer cleared his throat. So how long will you be--

Do you have any children, Mrs. Sneedon?

A grown son and daughter, said Tamella. Both are married with children of their own. What about you, Mr. Mudoolis? Do you have any children?

Gobbled up, Gatheon said.

Tamella wheeled about from the stove, her face pale. Excuse me?

That fish will soon be gobbled up. I'm so hungry you just wouldn't believe it. He grinned, showing his large yellow teeth.

Tamella laughed nervously. Well, it won't be long until we eat.

Gatheon produced a big flask from his tunic and sipped it heartily. He smacked his lips. Stout stuff. Been sipping it for the past three hours off and on. Takes the edge off my hunger. He took another hearty swig.

So you ride the rivers in a...barrel? Tamella said. How extraordinary. Is it a special barrel made for such travel? Where is it?

Gatheon's eyes narrowed. In a safe place. In the woods. A sly look crossed his face. No one will ever find it beneath the bird's watchful eye. He hiccupped. Anyway, I'm talking too much. Happens when I sip whiskey.

As the three sat down for dinner, Farmer Sneedon started to say a prayer. But before he finished speaking, Gatheon had bitten a fish completely in two and was chewing fiercely to get it down. He grunted as he chewed, and sweat dripped from his forehead. Crumbs from the breading hung in his beard. At one point, he made a gagging noise as if choking on a bone. Alarmed, Tamella quickly poured him some water, but he refused it with a frown and a wave of his hand. He made the gagging noise again and then swallowed.

Are you okay? Farmer Sneedon asked.

Gatheon ignored him. The fish is delicious, my lady. Splendid! We little people can handle fish bones. We've got a worm in our bellies that grinds them up. Even the scales are no problem for us.

Farmer Sneedon felt queasy. A worm, you say?

Not like an earthworm, said Gatheon, his eyes still fixed on Tamella. Just a slimy little device that looks like a worm. It's a handy little organ, because we eat our fish raw--scales, head, guts, and all. He chuckled and patted his