Sam Sykes - Tome of the Undergates (The Aeons Gate, Book 1)
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The debut novel from an extraordinarily talented twenty-five-year-old author. Fantasys next global star has arrived. Lenk can barely keep control of his mismatched adventurer band at the best of times (Gariath the dragon man sees humans as little more than prey, Kataria the Shict despises most humans, and the humans in the band are little better). When theyre not insulting each others religions theyre arguing about pay and conditions. So when the ship they are travelling on is attacked by pirates things dont go very well. They go a whole lot worse when an invincible demon joins the fray. The demon steals the Tome of the Undergates - a manuscript that contains all you need to open the undergates. And whichever god you believe in you dont want the undergates open. On the other side are countless more invincible demons, the manifestation of all the evil of the gods, and they want out. Full of razor-sharp wit, characters who leap off the page (and into trouble) and plunging the reader into a vivid world of adventure this is a fantasy that kicks off a series that could dominate the second decade of the century.
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Table of Contents
Tome of the Undergates
SAM SYKES
Orion
www.orionbooks.co.uk
A Gollancz eBook
Copyright Sam Sykes 2010 All rights reserved.
The right of Sam Sykes to be identified as the author
of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First published in Great Britain in 2010 by
Gollancz
The Orion Publishing Group Ltd
Orion House
5 Upper Saint Martins Lane
London, WC2H 9EA
An Hachette UK Company
This eBook first published in 2010 by Gollancz.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
eISBN : 978 0 5750 9031 6
This eBook produced by Jouve, France
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor to be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
www.orionbooks.co.uk
ACT ONE
Few Respectable Trades
Prologue
NO ROOM FOR HOPE
The Aeons Gate
Sea of Buradan, two weeks north and east of Toha
Summer, late
Sea of Buradan, two weeks north and east of Toha
Summer, late
Contrary to whatever stories and songs there may be about the subject, there are only a handful of respectable things a man can do after he picks up a sword.
First of all, he can put it down and do something else; this is the option for men who have more appreciable talents. He could use it to defend his homestead, of course, as protecting ones own is nothing but admirable. If he decides hes good at that sort of work, he could enlist with the local army and defend his kin and country against whatever entity is deemed the enemy at that moment. All these are decent and honourable practices for a man who carries a sword.
Then there are the less respectable trades.
Theres always mercenary life, the fine art of being paid to put steel in things. Mercenaries, usually, arent quite as respected as soldiers, since they swear no allegiance to any liege beyond the kind that are round, flat and golden. And yet, it remains only a slightly less respectable use for the blade, as, inevitably, being a mercenary does help someone.
Now, the very bottommost practice for a man who carries a sword, the absolute dregs of the well, the lowliest and meanest trade a man can possibly embrace after he decides not to put away his weapon is that of the adventurer.
There is one similarity between the adventurer and the mercenary: the love of money. Past that fact, everything is unfavourable contrast. Like a mercenary, an adventurer works for money, be it gold, silver or copper. Unlike a mercenary, an adventurers trade is not limited to killing, though it does require quite a bit of that. Unlike a mercenary, an adventurers exploits typically aid no one.
When one requires a herd of cattle guarded from rustlers, a young maiden protected, a family tomb watched over or an enemy driven away, all for an honest fee, one calls upon a mercenary.
When one requires a herd of cattle stolen, a young maiden deflowered, a family tomb looted and desecrated or an honest man driven away from his own home, all for a few copper coins and a promise, one calls upon an adventurer.
I make this distinction for the sole purpose that, if someone finds this journal after Ive succumbed to whatever hole I fell into or weapon Ive run afoul of, theyll know the reason.
This marks the first entry of the Aeons Gate, the grand adventure of Lenk and his five companions.
If whoever reads this has a high opinion of this writer so far, please cease reading now. The above sentence takes many liberties.
To consider the term adventure, one must consider it from the adventurers point of view. For a boy on his fathers knee, a youth listening to an elder or a rapt crowd hearing the songs of poets, adventure is something to lust after, filled with riches, women, heroism and glory. For an adventurer, its work; dirty, dusty, bloody, spittle-filled, lethal and cheap work.
The Aeons Gate is a relic, an ancient device long sought after by holy men and women of all faiths. It breaches the barriers between heaven and earth, allowing communication with the Gods themselves, an opportunity to ask why, how and what.
Or so Ive heard.
My companions and I have been hired to seek out this Gate.
To address the term companions, I say this because it sounds a degree better than a band of brigands, zealots, savages and madmen. And I use that description because it sounds infinitely more interesting than what we really are: cheap labour.
Unbound by the codes of unions and guilds, adventurers are able to perform more duties than common mercenaries. Untroubled by sets of morals and guidelines, adventurers are able to go into places the common mercenary would find repulsive. Unprotected by laws dictating the absolute minimum one must be paid, adventurers do all this for much, much less coin than the common mercenary.
If someone has read this far, he might ask himself what the point of being an adventurer is.
The answer is freedom. An adventurer is free to come and go as he pleases, parting from whoever has hired him when the fancy strikes him. An adventurer is free to stop at whatever exotic locale he has found, to take whatever he has with him, to stay for as long as he wants. An adventurer is free to claim what he finds, be it knowledge, treasure or glory. An adventurer is free to wander, penniless and perpetually starved, until he finally collapses dead on a road.
It also bears mentioning that an adventurer typically does leave his employers charter if the task assigned proves particularly deranged.
Thus far, my journey has taken my companions and me far from Muraskas harbour, where we took on this commission. We have travelled the western seas for what seems like an eternity, braving the islands, and their various diseases and inhabitants, in search of this Gate. Thus far, Ive fought off hostile natives, lugged heavy crates filled with various supplies, mended sails, swabbed decks and spent hours upon hours with one end of mine or the other leaning over the railing of our ship.
My funds have so far accumulated to twenty-six pieces of copper, eleven pieces of silver and half a gold coin. That half came from a sailor who was less lucky than the rest of us and had his meagre savings declared impromptu inheritance for the ships charter.
That charter is Miron Evenhands, Lord Emissary of the Church of Talanas. Mirons duties are, in addition to regular priestly business, overseeing diplomatic ties with other churches and carrying out religious expeditions, as which this apparently qualifies. He has been allocated funds for the matter, but spends them sparingly, hiring only as many adventurers and mercenaries as he must to form a facade of generosity. The ship he has chartered, a merchantman dubbed the Riptide , we share with various dirty sailors and hairy rats that walk on two legs.
My companions seem content with these arrangements, perhaps because they themselves are just as dirty and smelly. They sleep below deck even as I write this, having been driven up top by foul scents and groping hands. Granted, the arrangements are all that they are content with.
Every day, I deal with their greed and distrust. They demand to know where our payment is, how much money were getting. They tell me that the others are plotting and scheming against them. Asper tells me that Denaos makes lewd comments to her and the other women who have chartered passage aboard the ship. Denaos tells me that Asper mutters all manner of religious curses at him and tells the women that he is a liar, lech, lush, layabout and lummox; all lies, he tells me. Dreadaeleon tells me the ship rocks too much and its impossible for him to concentrate on his books. Gariath tells me he cant stand the presence of so many humans and hell kill every one to the last man.
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