The Guardian

By Rob James

11th Century Italy
What began as a normal patrol for a contingent of Byzantine Army troops becomes a fight for survival as vicious, bloodthirsty monsters, led by a terrifying, malevolent creature of nightmare proportions, hunts them down.

Unbeknownst to the dwindling troops, as well as the citizens of Southern Italy, another creature straight out of myth and legend is also hunting.

It was the last of its kind. Born for one purpose.

It was The Guardian.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rob James
• Release date: Feb 4, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370206698

Book preview

Table of Contents

Title Page

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

Copyright Notice

For Nicholas

Southern Italy, 11th Century.

The cold, thick fog enveloped the lush, mountainous Italian countryside like a wet, suffocating blanket. It had begun rolling slowly across the rocky hills and valleys overnight, encompassing everything in it’s path. Trees. Animals. Villages. Everything. Even the two farmers attempting to tend the crop of corn in their field. It was a fog so thick that it almost completely extinguished the concept of time. The sun, which was completely obscured from view, meant that any person caught in the fog’s embrace, would be unable to tell just what time of day it was. After walking through the fog for a substantial amount of time, (and if they even had the concept of time travel in the 11th century), one could almost visualize walking out of the pea-soup thick fog into another dimension, after being so totally cut off from the rest of the world.

Not only was the fog so thick that one could walk within two metres of another person and not be aware of them, but all sound was completely dulled as well. The crunch of leaves underfoot sounded like a soft whisper. The flow of water in the stream sounded more like a soft trickle. Also, the directions from where the sounds came from were distorted, and were assumed from coming from different directions.

Not that there was a lot of sound present anyway. For one thing, all the animals had gone to ground. There was not a bird chirping, a dog barking, or an insect buzzing. It seemed as if they had all gone to ground from fear. And it was partly well-founded. Even though the fog was a natural phenomenon, albeit an unusually thick one, it seemed to have an evil presence to it. And the two farmers, Alessandrus Famia, 43 years of age, and his teenage son, Maximus, 16, both sensed that the malevolence was getting stronger. To both farmers, there was a great feeling of despair associated with the fog.

Although dampness was normally associated with fog, in this case the cold dampness seemed to penetrate their very soul and tear it out, entering their body, firstly, through their lungs as they breathed in the thick vapor, and also through their clothing, drenching them both in minutes, thereby also increasing their feeling of cold and despair. Whereas initially, they had worked in the fog without a care, just as they had multiple times before, now a prickly, fearful sensation rose to almost completely overwhelm them both. It was like a heavy weight was pushing down on their shoulders, and all they wanted to do was run away in terror.

Having already told his son to keep within arm’s reach so that they didn’t lose each other in the fog, Alessandrus could see the fear etched in his face. Now he reached out to his son and gestured to him to stop working, telling him that they should head back quickly to their modest home. It was located only a couple of hundred metres away, but in this fog it might as well have been on the other side of the world.

The advantage that he had, however, was that he knew every inch of his home and the fields that he owned, and he also knew the sounds that the surrounding landscape made. He had grown up on the farm as a child, and his plan was to pass it down to his son when he had a family of his own, just as his father had done for him. Situated in one of the many valleys in the region, with a mix of rocky peaks and fertile hills on all sides, the farm had been in the family for more than five generations.

The sounds of their shoes were muted as they were walked slowly back to their home. Alessandrus stopped suddenly, having heard something. Sensing that he should not make a sound, the son kept stock still, waiting for his father to tell him what to do. The father continued to listen, and then heard it again. Or rather, a number of sounds.

Firstly, he heard what sounded like the faint thudding of steel on something solid, like a body, and this worried him greatly. He had seen the provincial allagion, a military unit of around 100 Byzantine, or East Roman, Army troops, pass through the area yesterday. The sound of steel on flesh could only mean that they had come into contact with an enemy. How close they were, he did not know. Not by the way that this fog was distorting sounds around.

The other sounds that he heard were what worried him more. A lot more. He heard what sounded like faint human screams and cries of men dying, and in pain. Having served in the army for a time when he was a younger man, he knew from experience that the two sounds were unfortunately linked. What he couldn’t place, however, were the louder, monstrous shrieks that were joining with the human cries into a sick chorus of death and mayhem. Like the soldiers were attacking wild animals. Or vice versa.

He had heard horrifying rumours in the nearby towns of monstrous creatures and supernatural events that he had taken as fanciful tales meant to scare children. Now though, after hearing the inhuman shrieks in the distance, he was having second thoughts. And he also noticed that the sensation of fear was increasing by the minute, almost as if it was getting closer to