The Chronicles of Outsider: Humble Beginnings

by Justin Wayne

  Chapter Twenty Four: Resurgence

  Outsider scanned the ground one more time just to be certain. Head low, knees bent, he crouched on the side of the trail and gingerly walked parallel to the light footprints set in the hard ground. The definition in the heels revealed the maker to have worn boots and some fashion of armor as the footprints were too short to be a large creature, yet obviously heavy enough to sink in the frozen earth.

  Or perhaps carrying a burden.

  “I don’t understand it!” Merlon blurted exasperatedly. “Why would he leave such a trail if he’s tryin’ to get away with Thom?”

  Cuke nodded in agreement. “Indeed, it’s almost like he wants to be found.” The two dwarves stopped and gave each other a deadpan look.

  “I see you’ve caught up then.” the hunter replied. He stood then and pointed along the path. “They went this way, seems like his horse gave out or needed a rest so he’s carrying him on foot. But Blaine’s a crafty one and he’ll find another way.”

  He swung back into the saddle and lightly pressed on Jiff’s sides to set a light trot. The two ponies followed with Horsey tethered to them. They went on for several miles in silence as Outsider concentrated on the marks in the dirt. From them he was able to discern direction but not destination. They were headed west, back the way they had came from their inlet and where Cuke had been living. However he wasn’t certain as to where they would go.

  “They could go to Cain Sander.” he said as they rounded up for the night in a small clearing surrounded by brush. “But that wouldn’t explain why he would want me to follow him. What he could gain by meeting me there?” Outsider mused.

  Merlon shrugged and set to getting the tinder alight. Cuke scratched his balding head and leaned back on one side to face him. “Maybe he seeks to find revenge and payment in one fell swoop.”

  The older dwarf cocked an eyebrow, not understanding.

  “I mean, perhaps he wants to lure you there with Thom to kill you, and then bring Thom in for his bounty and make some coin.” he explained. “Least that’s what I would do.”

  “Would ye’ now?” Merlon said slowly and deliberately. “And would ye’ also kidnap someone, barely a boy, to make such copious amount of cents? Eh?”

  The cleric shook his head and held his arms at his sides in confusion. “No, I wouldn’t, I was just trying to help. It’s a sound idea if this Blaine fellow is so pragmatic. Making money and pleasure together in one place is sound logic.”

  Merlon snorted and blew on the small tuft of grass he had kept in his pocket for a day to dry out as he set his sparks to it. Slowly the bright orange flecks began to smolder and catch, then would crawl about on the grass like maggots before dying out.

  For several more minutes he struck away at it and for several more minutes warmth evaded him. After a particularly thick patch of sparks harmlessly bounced off the grass his patience was up.

  “Damn it all!” Merlon cursed and threw down his stone. “Everythin’s gone south now!” He turned around and stomped away from the camp, disappearing into the darkness. Only the sound of the crickets chirping slowly filled the brisk night air.

  A moment later Cuke shivered and dusted his hands off. “Right. I’ll handle this.” He stood as tall as he could and braced himself, screwing up his eyes in concentration. “One fireball coming right up!”

  Outsider tackled him to the ground then rolled back to his feet without slowing. “Why don’t you just let me take care of it?” He took up the stone and bit of metal from Thom’s old knife and scraped it with a loud grinding noise. A few minutes later and the grass caught with a tiny breath. He placed it beneath the teepee of tinder and leaned back on his elbows to survey his handiwork and enjoy the warmth.

  For as much as he enjoyed the cold, a northern winter was nothing to go into unprepared. The weather, he believed, would be their biggest obstacle in finding Thom if it took too much longer. Already the wind carried the chill that would just as soon snuff a fire as burn your skin raw and the nights often had a light dusting of ice and sleet.

  Outsider wrapped his cloak about him tighter and stoked the coals. He and Cuke were quiet for a long while and just watched the flames coil their way up the wood until their dancing was vivid enough to survive heavier firewood. The cleric dropped a log onto the far side of the teepee and slowly it began to smoke.

  “I could have done it you know.” he said quietly and staring straight ahead at the fire. “I could have made that campfire.” He knew no reply would be forthcoming so he just nodded and continued. “I know I don’t always get things right and sometime my spells go sour. But I can do so much now. So many things that even you, my oldest friend, have never seen me do.”

  He looked over his left shoulder to the hunter as he spoke. “You’ve always been so good at things. Talented and just picking them up as you go. I know you don’t see it that way but I do, and I would kill for it.

  “Every time something comes up you know what to do, meanwhile if I make a plan, it’s usually shot down immediately or ‘someone else should do it’. But I can do this. I can carry my own weight and give more. I just need the chance, Outsider.”

  The elf looked over at him then and they shared a nod. Cuke smiled then beneath his beard. “Just give me the opportunity and I’ll prove myself.”

  Outsider cleared his throat embarrassedly; taking absolutely no comfort in such a personal conversation. “You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

  “Who said it was you I had to prove something to?” Cuke replied, staring at the ground. The silence resumed then for several minutes until Jiff laid down behind Outsider who rested back against his side with a contented sigh.

  “You’ve got a new horse.” Cuke observed long ago but now had the time to clarify.

  Outsider nodded and smiled as the gray gelding whinnied lightly. “Bought him off an old farmer who said he was too wild to be ridden and worth only for his meat.” He laughed then at the memory. “I rode away on him an hour later after paying a single gold cent.”

  The dwarf howled with laughter and wiped tears from his eyes. All the previous tension melted away and was replaced by mirth. Even now as they searched for their lost friend who may be dead or worse even as they speak, they had to enjoy the little things in life lest they be driven insane. So when Merlon returned with a pair of dead conies in hand and declared he had also killed a skunk on accident, all laughed heartily and concentrated on that feeling.

  That feeling they so often had dashed away.

  “This meat is quite good.” Cuke observed as he picked away at his bowl. “Might be that I should take a whack at rabbit one of these days. I’m an excellent cook you know.” He smiled and continued eating, missing the look Outsider shot at Merlon in warning.

  “I’ve heard that before I have.” the old, grumpy dwarf replied as he wiped the stew from his beard. “And I learned long ago to decide for meself.”

  Cuke nodded and drained his bowl. “Then you’ll be in for a treat my good dwarf! My seasonings are a rare blend of special herbs and spices I’ve found from all over. Very secret recipe mind you so you’ll understand if I don’t tell you all the ingredients..”

  The two dwarves talked about food and their favorite dishes for nearly an hour. They compared rosemary to nutmeg and argued the difference between stew and soup until they were red in the face; which then led to an argument over whether cherries of tomatoes were a brighter shade of red.

  Needless to say for dwarves, Outsider had to intervene before it led to blows.

  “I’m going to Cain Sander to look for Thom.” The debate broke and they both stared at him with mouths agape. They shared a concerned glance then looked back at the elf and at the same time both prepared to speak. “Alone.” he cut in once more. The two dwarves again shared a look then turned to face him.

  Merlon rested a hand on Cuke’s shoulder to placate him. “Why alone?” his gravelly voice asked worriedly. Wrinkles lined his forehead as testament to
his concern. “Wouldn’t it be safer if we all went?”

  “Yes.” Outsider replied hesitantly. “And no. Blaine is a bounty hunter and relies on stealth as much as he does combat; something I understand and you two do not. No offense intended, but this is something I think I can better handle alone. I’ve got the mix of skills to track regardless of location.

  “Meanwhile, you two should head out to Journ and see if you can’t identify and get rid of whatever haunts the town. Then I can meet you there afterward with Thom in tow.”

  The two dwarves agreed reluctantly and knew the hunter’s logic was sound. But that didn’t mean they had to like it. After a night of planning they were up at dawn and fully packed for travel the following morning.

  “If you go and get yourself murdered, I’ll kill ye!” Merlon threatened with a shake of his fist. “I mean it, elf. There are too few dark elves in this land to prove they’re not all bad. And even fewer who would help an old dwarf against some evil spirit.” He shook Outsider’s hand firmly. “Bring the boy back, Outsider.”

  Merlon clambered onto Ebony and steadied himself shakily atop even the little pony. Cuke did likewise but drew Ivory beside Outsider whom was whispering to Jiff.

  “Well, at least let me tree travel you there.” Cuke pleaded. “I know you don’t like it but it’s the fastest way to get back to Cain Sander. You might even get there first.” he added as he saw the stubborn look in those gray eyes.

  “Only if you can promise to do everything you can for Merlon and his home. He’s done more for me than I can ever repay.” the elf countered and Jiff pawed the ground in unison.

  “Agreed.” Cuke shook his hand and dismounted from his pony. He led them over to the tree they had used before and placed his hand flat against the rough bark. He whispered to the tree and called out to Reiin until his hand began to meld through the living wood. He smiled at the tingling sensation that numbed the end of his arm. “Are you all set to leave?”

  “Aye, let’s be on our way.” Outsider replied and took hold of the cleric’s shoulder, other hand holding firm to Jiff’s reins which were wrapped around his wrist. Moving forward into the shadows he held his breath and closed his eyes.

  Then opened them outside the great white wall he had passed weeks earlier.

  “Here we are at the great city of Cain Sander!” Cuke announced smugly. “There goes a four day trip in less than four seconds.” His eyebrow rose in a fashion as if to say, you’re welcome. “Well don’t go and screw this up. Thom’s counting on you eh? And Merlon too.”

  Outsider nodded solemnly. “He really cares for the hobbit.” He glanced over at Jiff and felt a similar emotion. “I don’t think he has any children of his own, and not once has he mentioned a wife.”

  “It is not unusual for dwarves to spend much of their lives single and devote themselves to their work,” Cuke explained. “However, the time for such a change is nigh for him; a reason I believe he cares so strongly for his town and its people.”

  The two shook hands briskly. “I shall not fail him Cuke, nor shall you.”

  With that, he turned about on Jiff and made off to the city, aiming for the tall, ironwood gates. He covered the field quickly and passed through the raised portcullis without looking back. Behind him, Cuke bowed his head and returned through the tree in a pull of shadow.

  The hunter passed through the crowds after leaving Jiff at the stable. He slipped between the masses that bustled about to and from the many shops and business without bumping into a single one of them and quickly made his way atop the closest tower.

  Taking the ladder, he stood tall on the roof and stretched then crouched low with eyes narrowed. He scanned the city from his viewpoint as thoroughly as he could memorize in such a short time; taking note of the more populated taverns and shops, as well as the shady alleys obviously devoid of guards.

  A thousand buildings, shops here and there littered throughout the many homes and guard barracks, all a multitude of shapes and sizes which really showed the multiple races and heritages within the city. The taverns and inns had the heavy wooden architecture full of intricate carvings and stable foundations that would last generations; the dwarves’ work, and a few shops including the chapels were of a light stone with great sweeping walls and decorated doors; made by the elves, and the last of all was the pragmatic and often cheaply crafted shops and homes of men.

  The alleys he saw were narrow and between walls so tall they were in constant shadow, with decrepit old men passing in and out of them at random, sometimes with younger men and women. Once he saw a cloaked man emerge and he thought he had found Blaine, only to see the man ran through with a sword and fall to the ground without his hood on, showing him a human.

  “Too many people here for this.” Outsider whispered and slid down the ladder back to the ground. Eyes cast low; he sped through the streets like a specter, slipping into alleys and side passages without slowing his pace until he had crossed the city.

  Scanning the room as he walked in, he settled in the front near the door of a pub named the Hangnail. With his back comfortably against the wall and his chair eased back enough for him to lean against it casually, he waited. A few minutes later, a scrawny man wearing rags and tattered pants sat across from him with a curt nod.

  “How can I help ya friend?” he asked with a mostly toothless grin and scratched the scruff on his neck audibly. Outsider ignored the onion-like smell of body odor the man emitted.

  “I need to find someone.”

  The man nodded again and tapped the table with two fingers. “Information don’t come cheap.”

  Outsider smiled beneath his cloak. “Neither do doctors.” the elf replied and pointed down. The man followed it and leaned to the side to look under the table, where a small crossbow was pointed at him. The man’s eyes widened and he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “Don’t you try to run or I’ll have a bolt in the base of your spine before you take a single step.”

  The man gulped so loudly Outsider could have watched his Adam’s apple rise and fall. He nodded for the third time then and gripped the sides of the table nervously.

  “Who ya lookin’ for then?” he whispered and his voice quivered nervously.

  “A bounty hunter named Blaine.”

  The man’s eyebrows rose then fell. “Never heard of ‘em.”

  “Liar. You can’t control your facial expressions as well as someone learned in the ways of deception. Now answer me truthfully lest you prefer a second naval.” The crossbow clicked as he slid back the latch.

  The man sat forward then and he looked near to crying. “Alright, alright! He hangs around a tavern named Six Feet Deep by the waterfront! But if he ever finds out I told you..”

  Outsider watched the crestfallen man and flicked him a silver piece. “Trust me, if I get what I came for, Blaine won’t be a problem for you.” Then he laid the small hand crossbow on the table, pointing at the man, and pulled the trigger with a click. The man flinched with eyes squeezed shut and teeth grit.

  A few moments passed before he realized there was no pain or sensation of poison coursing through his veins. He opened his eyes hesitantly and saw the mysterious cloaked man had vanished. Then he looked down at the crossbow and saw it was not only devoid of any bolts but broken as well.

  He sighed deeply in relief and pocketed the silver piece with a nervous chuckle.