Disclaimer: The characters within are used without permission for the sheer non profit enjoyment of fans of the Gabriel Knight genre. Part 3
Flash! Bright, burning light... fades away accompanied by a blaring wail overhead. Motion and rhythm... a bumpy ride. A carriage gone insane. Illness returning again... hot and cold wafting over his aged senses, eyes glued shut with hot tears, lips painfully dry. Listening...
"Gabriel, what the hell's goin on?" An irritated voice... off to the left. No one he recognized. The name... Gabriel. He was safe.
"I have no idea!" Gabriel's voice-- the Shattenjager. He was indeed safe. "Just get us to the station. I have a bad feeling out here tonight. This phone work?"
Their conversation dulled to his ears and he fell back to the seat, brow furrowed in pain. Muscles contracted oddly and his bones ached. The back of his head felt as though someone had cracked it open and he could feel the oozing blood spill from an open wound. Unconsciousness overtook him like being submerged in a warm liquid...
He was dying.
It was obvious. He had seen enough men die in his lifetime, witnessed the expression upon their faces... held their hand through the end to know. He hadn't much time. And worst of all, he would die before giving Gabriel any information... Warning aside, he needed more. If he only hadn't been so cryptic...
A woman in white stepped forward, her hand extended. Long flowing hair danced about her as though some pleasant sea breeze were attacking her from all sides... The gown furled behind her and snapped audibly, the texture seeming of silk... "Come to me..." Her ethereal voice beckoned him forward, requested him to take her hand... "You've served your time, my love..."
Duty wrestled with temptation. He suddenly missed her so much. Porcelain skin-- green eyes... her generous smile. That wasn't so long ago and now he was offered his reward for his service... A life filled with torment. A life void of happiness. All made better at the end to spend his eternity with her.
He looked down at himself and marveled. Young... he was young again. Strength surged through his body, a vigor he'd lost. The weariness was gone. When had it started? When was it that age began to rip through his soul and take away all that was precious to him? What sort of horrid dream would grant it for a time and not allow it to come true...
He struggled with himself a moment, his mind and soul at conflict. This was no dream. This was the turning point for his spirit. His mind screamed to him of duty. His heart cried out for release. Emotions for him had always been strong but he'd never been their slave... 'Fight you fool... fight.'
The warmth began to fade and a sudden chill assaulted him. His face was wet, warm saliva clinging to his cheek. The numb tingling in his legs and throbbing pain in his head told him this was not the eternity that he may have been promised but rather that his mind won the battle. He was returned for duty... again.
The castle loomed in the distance and Kail breathed a sigh of relief. Two days of travel had him weary and though the weather had been favorable he felt worn and chilled to the bone. It had been a warm day but as the sun descended beyond the horizon the air dropped in temperature and he trembled-- his body completely exhausted.
Miles, the stable hand ran out to greet him but the smile on his young face dripped away as his eyes fell upon the body of Reinhold draped over his horse. "What in God's name happened Kail?" His voice broke from grief and tears were already welling in his eyes.
"We were attacked by bandits." Kail answered evenly... his emotions had been taxed upon holding the man in his last moments of life and while he was still grieving, he didn't have the capacity at the moment to sound too depressed.
"This is terrible..." He heard Miles say, shaking his head. "Horrible tragedy..."
Kail dismounted and pulled his uncle off of the mount. "Take the horses in and get them cleaned up and fed, will you Miles? I'll get Reinhold to the chapel for the ceremony." With a strength his frame didn't betray, he lifted the burly dead man on to his shoulder and bore him off to the back gate.
He heard the challenge cry of Johan, one of the five guards under the employ of the Shattenjagers. "Who goes there?" The tension in his voice caught Kail off guard. Perhaps something more was amiss than his uncles demise...
"Johan, it's Kail." He grunted, the burden finally getting to him. "Something has happened! Reinhold is dead!"
"What?" Johan's voice sounded strained and he sighed wearily. "Then we have been on alert for good reason."
"We need to talk but I must get Uncle Reinhold to the chapel. Can you call out Kristov?" Kail had reached the gate now and was able to just barely make out Johan in the door, obscured by the shadows. He was a tall man, well built with a mail shirt and chain coif over his head. He was leaning on a spear.
"Certainly." He turned and took a few steps into the castle and called out in a loud voice.
"Kristov! Lord Kail is back, get over to the East Gate."
The call was answered by a muffled affirmation and Johan turned back to help Kail bring Reinhold into the courtyard. As they set him down, Kail rubbed his shoulder and circled his arm both falling stiff quickly. "Tell me what's been going on Johan?"
"It's your father sir.... Someone tried to kill him."
"What?" Kail had had just about had enough of these attempts on the lives of his family. "What are you talking about?"
"It happened three nights ago. An assassin crept into the castle and tried to end your father's life."
"Did you catch him?"
"We were forced to slay him."
"Is father alright?"
"A bit shaken but he was able to fend off the villain until we arrived."
"Can you and Kristov see to Reinhold? I'm off to see him." He didn't wait for a response as he crossed the quiet courtyard and entered the castle, jogging up the stairs to his father's room. "Father?" He called, knocking once before entering.
He encountered his father sitting at his desk pinching the bridge of his nose. He was an aged man, a bit older than Reinhold though not nearly as burly. Kail had received the majority of his build from his father-- the fairness of skin and hair from his mother. "Kail?" His father asked, voice drawn with worry.
"Aye, 'tis me." Kail hurried over and leaned against the desk. "What in God's name is happening?"
"I was attacked... 'tis nothing now. The fiend was driven off."
"Father, Uncle Reinhold is dead." Kail took a deep breath. "And if someone tried to kill you too..." He let his words trail a moment and clucked his tongue. "Is someone after us?"
"We have many enemies son." His father leaned back in his chair. "We always have to have our guard up." He looked at the talisman. "I see that Reinhold passed it on before he died."
Kail nodded slowly. "He did. I wouldn't have donned it until ordained otherwise."
"You are a worthy choice, my son." His father smiled. "But now we need to worry about this current threat."
Kail reached into his pocket and pulled out the broach he'd taken from the assassin. "I found this on one of the bodies of the brigands that attacked us." He dropped it on the table. "Have you ever seen its like?"
His father examined the broach carefully, squinting with obvious concern. "This belongs to a guild, son. Specifically, the carpenter's guild. This must be a mistake."
"No mistake father. This was taken from the man who stabbed Uncle Reinhold... I took it from his cloak."
"I can only assume that it was stolen from one of the guild members. Your attackers were brigands." He reminded.
"But father, why would brigands attack two lone men with the intent to kill without any warning or threat? No challenge at all. They didn't bother to ask us for anything. They just charged out of the woods without a sound and attempted to waylay us."
"I understand your concern, Kail but we can't assume that the merchant's in the carpenter's guild are wicked."
"You and Reinhold shared the same illusion. We can ask about there. We can narrow it down to ranks within the guild to maybe a particular person beside the man that we slew. Perhaps find out where the true nature of this lies and seek it out to destroy it before we fall under its machinations."
"Kail, I give you leave to explore whatever possibility you see fit but remember that we must be careful in our inquisitions..."
"Of course father." Kail nodded as he turned to leave. "I have more of a capacity for insight than either Reinhold or you ever had... I won't falsely accuse anyone."
"See that you don't." His father rose and met him at the door. "God speed son. Good luck." They embraced a moment and Kail patted his father on the shoulder before proceeding down the hall to his own room.
"Tell me what the hell you wanted when you got on my bike, damnit!" Gabriel fumed in front of the elder man as they sat in the confines of Mosely's office. They had arrived not a half hour earlier but the older man was still in a state of recovery from wounds tended at the hospital. At four o' clock in the morning without any real sleep and only a crack on the head for comfort, Gabriel wasn't in the most pleasant of moods.
"I'm sorry, Gabriel..." The man took a deep breath. "I came to you to warn you about a cult... an order that has been attempting to destroy the Ritter family line for generations... They are after you now."
"Great." Gabriel sat on the desk and regarded the man through half closed eyes. "And would you mind telling me why they want us dead? What the hell did we do to them?"
"They are a society that serves a formidable enemy to anything good in this world..."
"Cut the melodrama!" Gabriel pushed himself from the desk and paced. "I want to know what these guys want, how they operate and where they are..."
Mosely nodded agreement. "You tell us who they are and we'll go pick em up. They won't be hurtin anyone then."
The old man shook his head. "Neither of you understand!" He scowled at Gabriel. "These men aren't so simple as to be 'picked up'. They are assassins! Generations in training and skill. They are who you least expect when you least expect. You may kill one but then you'll have the countless others to contend with."
"Great so I'm basically going to be living the rest of my life with a target on my head, is that right?"
"In a sense, that will always be the case as you well know... But in this instance, you can fight and you can win."
"Okay, tell me. What do I have to do?" Gabriel leaned against the wall and folded his arms. "And who the hell is behind it all?"
"They have no formal name." He sighed. "They worship the god Ali Nocht."
Gabriel paled noticeably his arms dropping to his sides. He looked over at Mosely with wide eyes and bit his lip. "First Leber now this..."
Mosely looked confused. "Huh? What about Leber?"
"Leber gave me a call a couple weeks ago while I was still in Rittersburgh. He thought that he needed to bring to my attention a crime he was investigating... One he felt that I would have some interest in." He looked up at the ceiling. "Apparently, a young man was found dead in the Munich subway... he'd had his throat cut. The strange part was that there were some ritualistic carvings on the body..."
"And why did Leber call you?"
"After the... the Von Glower incident, I filled him in on what I was... about the Shattenjäger business. He had little choice but to believe and even found it within him to offer some kind of assistance." He sighed. "The strange part of it all was that the man who was killed shared my families name. His name was Alexander Ritter. I didn't see anything important involving it at the time but... perhaps this is related."
"It very well could be." The older man piped in. "They want your family. They won't segregate and they will be thorough."
"That's just perfect." Gabriel said turning his back to the both of them, looking through the one-way mirror into the station. Mosely frowned after him and regarded the man sitting in front of him.
"So why haven't you told us who you are?" Mosely asked. "I mean, for all we know yer in on this whole deal tryin to lead us astray."
"That's not the case. I assure--" The old man grasped his chest falling from the chair to his knees a grunt of pain exploding from his withered body. Mosely was up in an instant kneeling beside him.
"What's wrong fella?" Mosely took him on either shoulder and tried to lay him down but was met with surprising resistance. "What the hell? Gabriel help me!"
Gabriel moved over and took the man's other side and they forced him to the ground. Mosely checked his pulse and shook his head. "This guys really freakin." He commented more to himself. "Gabriel, get out there and tell em to get an ambulance. We need to get this guy back to the hospital and fast."
Gabriel turned to leave but his hand was clasped with an iron grip. "Gabriel..." The aged man managed. "It's always who... you least expect... Ali Nocht... The Maliphrae..." His voice broke and he gasped for air before continuing. "Your uncle's... memoirs...." He fell back with a final gurgle as blood surfaced from his mouth sliding down his cheek like a slow motion river, dripping on the floor. His breathing ceased and his body settled to the ground quite dead.