House of Gates (Book One)

By Lawrence Caldwell

Lucia and Florencia, two halves of an empire, split down the center in a war that has raged for centuries. In the recent decades of the hostilities, the two sides have been particularly egregious towards one another.

With the Battle of the Dead Emperors, the rulers and their immediate heirs on both sides of the conflict have been killed, leaving Lucia and Florencia with rulers not expected to be within the immediate line of succession.

Together, Empress Caelestinius of Lucia and Albion Justin of Florencia have met in secret to discuss a plan to end the war once and for all.

Nothing is certain as a plan to force the respective nobilities together to resolve their differences is enacted in the form of a trap.

The houses will unite in marriage—or they will drown in blood.

Maximilian Silvanus, lord of Lucia, is one such man of the nobility. He has fought and bled for Lucia. He has endured the childish taunts of his nemesis, Lady Gabriela Farreli on the field of defeat on several occasions.

And now he must end hostilities?

A letter from the Empress reaches him, commanding that he do so in order for him to make all due hast with the rest of his noble countrymen for the ancient and mysterious House of Gates.

Max does not believe the ‘parley’ with the Florencians will go well.

And if he sees Lady Farreli at the House of Gates? Why, he may just snap her neck before running her through.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lawrence Caldwell
• Release date: Sep 17, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005245870

Lawrence Caldwell

Lawrence Caldwell is believed by some to be a wandering samurai, or a vagrant, or possibly a ninja—though perhaps in his infinite mystery, he’s none of these things. Whichever the case, he wanders home as Odysseus did after the great Trojan War in some realm unbeknownst to our world. And—by direct theft of a quote from a certain dwarf named Varric Tethras—he "occasionally writes books."

Book preview

House of Gates

By

Lawrence Caldwell

Book One in the House of Gates Series

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

Copyright © Lawrence Caldwell, 2021

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THE JINNI AND THE ISEKAI

The Jinni and the Isekai

The Black Cobra of Mar’a Thul

Coil and Strike

The Sultan of Darshuun

Sultan’s Legacy

ANARCHO

Fracture Rating

Hussy

Landfill Lich

Rescue Operation

Dreams of Forever

THE PRINCESS AND THE MAGICIAN

The Wind Steppe Princess and the Amalfi Magician

PARADISE

Icon of Paradise

HOUSE OF GATES

BOOK ONE: A Grand Summons

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BOOK ONE: A Grand Summons

"Our enemies are Medes and Persians, men who for centuries have lived soft and luxurious lives; we of Macedon for generations past have been trained in the hard school of danger and war. Above all, we are free men, and they are slaves."—Alexander the Great

Prologue

Empress Zanna Caelestinius of Lucia stepped out of her carriage, accompanied by none of her advisors, courtiers or upper nobility.

She had come to the House of Gates, largely alone, save for her most trusted knights, mages and other magickers from the army.

I have wanted this my whole life.

She was only sorry that for this moment to come to pass, the Battle of the Dead Emperors had to have happened first.

Lucia and Florencia, two empires locked in mortal war for centuries, had been destroying themselves ever since. And though the hostilities waned at times, the last decade had been particularly grievous—for both sides.

Thunder rumbled in the black clouds overhead.

My Empress! Sir Hariacci said, and thumped a fist to his armored chest. He stood. All has been prepared for you.

Very good.

She walked across the grounds, her shoulders straight and her head held high as befitted her stature. Statues of lions, eagles and other majestic creatures lined the entrance of the Lucia side of the House of Gates.

Also in a long line were her knights and mages, loyal only to Zanna

The house—if it could ever truly be called a house or even a mansion—was brightly lit, the luminescence cascading out into the grounds.

She stepped into the foyer, her boots clacking against the polished tiles. At her hip, her rapier swayed with her steps.

Empress Caelestinus! October said in greeting. It is a pleasure to see you.

General, she said with a nod. I will not be accompanied into the citadel drawing room.

She walked, and he followed closely at her side, a small procession of knights and high-ranking officers on their heels.

"Forgive my impudence, Empress—but is that wise? With such hostilities between Lucia and Florencia, I must insist that I accompany you personally, at the very least.

Smiling, Zanna said, No.

I beseech you, Empress!

Stopping within the sumptuous hall, she glanced at her general. October, you well know that I could best you in a duel within moments. Your presence would be nothing more than a formality.

His countenance was one of mild embarrassment. Even so, Empress.

You will remain at the drawing room doors, she said, feeling completely at ease. If I call for you, then—and only then—may you flood into the chamber to protect me. But I know it will not come to that.

How can you be certain?

October was a tall dapper man. He was not a leader to get his own hands dirty with fighting. He wore crisp black trousers and a jacket with white-lace cuffs, his hair, also black, pulled back into a short tail at the nape of his neck.

She regarded his dark eyes.

I know Emperor Albion well, she said. Need I explain myself to my generals—or do you trust your empress implicitly as well as explicitly?

He took a step back, realizing his overreach. My sincerest apologies, Empress Caelestinius. By the Gods, I serve at your pleasure and yours alone!

Then follow me.

She stalked forward, not slowly, but not at a speed that bespoke hurry. That would be unbecoming of her. Ever was she the proper Empress of Lucia—a being of near perfect perfection.

At least in the eyes of the people of Imperial Lucia.

Albion left his entourage behind as he grasped the golden handles of the doors leading into the citadel drawing room and pushed them open.

Though Emperor of Florencia, he was not one to have his servants do something as trivial as opening doors.

Glancing beyond, the doors on the other side had not yet been opened. Empress Caelestinius was always one to be fashionably late—even before her ascension to the throne. She had, to Albion’s knowledge, never changed her character to suit the throne of Lucia.

She was born for it.

Unlike Albion, who felt out of place ruling his own empire, an empire come to him because of the Battle of the Dead Emperors. Nearly having abdicated the role, he had decided against it, due to his good friend Toni, who had encouraged him during those dark times.

Walking further into the drawing room, he glanced about. He had refused his guards to check the room beforehand. Albion trusted Empress Caelestinius. Zanna was… an old acquaintance.

Even still, he was looking about the drawing room.

There were no others in the chamber. Pushing out with his feeble magicks, he sensed no hidden auras in the chamber.

The House of Gates was something to behold. The rugs themselves, of dark floral patterns, were worth that of entire villages. The blood red silk curtains in this chamber alone contained enough materials to furnish the royal palace of Florencia.

The white doors on the other side of the chamber, gilded in gold floral patterns, opened to reveal two knights, Empress Caelestinius in an opulent white dress between them. Her upper arms were exposed, but her gloves covered her bare skin up to her elbows.

As she walked forward, her boots knocked against the floor, making sounds that could draw the ear from thirty paces away.

Albion swallowed as he went nearer the furniture in the center of the room. There was a series of sofas and small tables that created an enclosure—almost a separate room within the chamber.

Albion, Empress Caelestinius said with a barely perceptible nod.

Zanna, he said, returning the gesture.

They both sat on the furniture.

Zanna was as straight-backed as a piece of the wall furniture, her posture seemingly at complete ease. Albion doubted he looked half as decorously prim in his trousers, tunic and doublet—even with the lace.

In the past I felt like a commoner in her presence. As I do now. If there should be one ruler of the two empires, it should be her.

How was your journey here? he asked, trying to maintain propriety.

Damp, she said.

Zanna’s face carried a slight smile, or was that simply a look of superiority? If it was, she was not improper to feel that way in his presence.

With a nod, he said, You look well.

Thank you. As do you, Albion.

He couldn’t help but smile at her compliment. You are too kind.

There was a pause between them.

Finally, Zanna said, This cannot go on, Albion. Our empires have been tearing each other apart. We are weakening.

I agree, he said.

I am sorry that it took the Battle of the Dead Emperors to bring us together like this. In truth, Zanna and Albion had been the emperor and empress of their respective empires for nearly a decade,

Glancing into her eyes, he nodded.

Then she smiled. You always were a quiet one.

What are we going to do? he asked. She had hinted in her letters, but never outright told him what she thought the solution was to the endless bloodshed between Florencia and Lucia.

Our enemies are on our doorstep and tensions between Lucia and Florencia are worse than they have ever been in my life.

He nodded.

We must unite—but not only to defeat our enemies, but to stop our rivalries. An exchange of nobility will not be enough.

That failed the dead emperors.

Often called the dead emperors, the past leaders of Florencia and Lucia were in fact the parents and grandparents of both Albion and Zanna.