The Outlaw's Quest (Keeper of the Books, Book 2)

by Jason D. Morrow

  Rachel and Alban seemed more upset by Droman’s attitude toward things, but it was Marum who was their travel companion. She was the one who should have stuck up for them in the first place. Yet, here they were, their hands tied behind their backs, Nate bloodied and bruised. At this point, he wouldn’t put it past Marum or Droman to kill the three of them and forget they ever existed.

  Corruption was a powerful thing. A criminal’s mind easily forgets those who once loved him.

  Nate drifted in and out of sleep throughout the evening. At some point the air turned extra cold and he knew it was deep into the night. He didn’t look over to see Alban or Rachel, but he could hear their deep breaths going in and out slowly. He was glad they were resting. He wasn’t sure if it was the position he was in or if the beating he’d received was just too painful, but Nate couldn’t fall into that deepness that was sound sleep. Drifting in and out wasn’t what he wanted or needed. He needed to be in that hotel room in Strakfield. He needed to be asleep with a warm meal in his belly, washed down with burning whiskey.

  He’d been tied up before. Several times actually. And just about every time, thoughts like these would enter his mind. He would think back to those times when he was comfortable and cozy, or about days when he was happy with Abigail. He would think about warm fires with pans above them filled with sizzling bacon. These thoughts always brought him out of where he really was and gave him even just a few moments of reprieve. Even the pain would leave sometimes. But the chill of the night air kept that from him this time. No amount of positive thinking would stave off the biting cold.

  The worst part was when a gust of wind would push open the flap in their tent and he would be overwhelmed with cold as if it rode in like an ocean wave. His body gave way to shivering, but it failed to warm him.

  There was another blast of air and this time he was tempted to try and get up from his spot to see if he could somehow rig the flap to stay closed, but before he could even attempt to move, he felt a warm hand press against his mouth.

  The way his head was pressed against the floor, he couldn’t easily look up to see who it was. He wondered if this person had come to slit his throat quietly. Part of him wanted to scream out, to bring attention to the person standing above him, but he quickly wondered what good it would do if the person had been ordered to kill him. No one would stop the knife from cutting into his veins.

  The person above him shushed him quietly and then moved the hand away. The hand then went under Nate’s armpit and pulled up. Nate used the momentum to roll onto his side and sit up straight.

  The person in front of him was none other than Marum. Nate blinked soundlessly, wondering what the scenario called for here. Either she was here to kill him or to free him.

  Being the untrusting outlaw that he was, his face twisted into a snarl. “You better make good use of that knife,” Nate whispered.

  Marum shook her head and got on all fours, crawling behind Nate. She then slipped the knife between his wrists and pulled up on the rope.

  Blood rushed to his fingers when his hands fell free and he couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. He rubbed at his wrists, switching from one hand to the other. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve come to get you three out,” she said.

  “I thought you were helping your brother.”

  “One of us needed to remain free.” She crawled to Alban and Rachel, placing a hand on both of their mouths. The two of them opened their eyes wide, though they didn’t make a sound when they saw Marum in front of them. She reached down and cut their bonds. Marum then crawled toward the entrance of the tent and grabbed a large sack. When she reached inside, she pulled out Nate’s gun belt, along with his rifle and strap. She tossed them to him and he caught them in his lap.

  Nate checked his guns over, making sure everything was in order as best he could. He pushed out the cylinder and saw that it was still fully loaded. He then snapped it back into place. Just as Marum was handing Rachel her pistol, Nate pulled back on the hammer and set the barrel of his gun against Marum’s temple.

  The gray elf froze in place, her purple eyes wide with fear. She was in no position to reach for her own pistol or the rifle that was slung over her shoulder.

  “Nate, what are you doing?” Rachel scolded.

  “I trusted you once and look where that got us,” Nate said. “I’m going to give you one chance to tell me why I oughta trust you again.”

  “Because I’m getting you out of here,” Marum said.

  “Wrong answer,” Nate said.

  “Wait! Wait!” Marum said in a harsh whisper.

  “Nate, we don’t have time for this,” Alban said.

  “What do you want me to say?” Marum asked. “I couldn’t do anything at first. I didn’t know my brother was going to send men after you. I didn’t know he was going to tie them up.”

  “You never told us why you were going to be executed,” Nate said. “You never told us that you actually worked for your crazy brother!”

  “You never asked,” Marum said. She dared to turn her head toward Nate. “It’s not like you’ve told us all your secrets. But knowing everything about each other isn’t what this journey is about. I’m sure we all come with our own baggage. Mine just happens to be the reason you’ve been tied up.”

  Nate kept the gun pressed against her head. He couldn’t say he ever thought he was going to kill her. It hadn’t been the plan. He’d just done what came naturally to him.

  “Yes, I may have been arrested for helping my brother,” Marum said, “but traveling with you has changed my mind. Hearing all the talk of you being a Sojourner. Gwen thinking you’re the one who can actually get one of the relic keys…I’m with you all the way in this.”

  “That’s it, ain’t it?” Nate said.

  “What?”

  “You’re after the relic key.”

  “Nate…” Alban said.

  “That’s right,” Nate continued. “You’re gonna wait until I have it in my hands and then you’re gonna take it from me and give it to your brother.”

  Marum stared at him, her face stern. Finally she shook her head slightly. “I don’t know what to say, Nate. I can’t make you believe anything one way or another. All I know is right now, you’ve got a choice to make. You can either kill me and bring the whole camp in here for a shootout, or you can follow me and I’ll get us out of here.”

  Nate watched the gray elf. He didn’t want to fall into the same mistake of trusting her again, but even if she planned to betray him in the future, she was offering a way out now.

  He pulled the gun back and away from her head. He released the hammer slowly and set the gun in its holster. This time he pointed a finger at her. “If I get even a sense of you doing something sketchy, I’ll shoot you between the eyes.”

  Marum’s eyes narrowed, almost as if she wanted to challenge the outlaw, but she held her tongue. Maybe Nate had this all wrong, he didn’t know. All he had was instinct, and instinct told him to get away from these people as soon as he could. That included Rachel and Alban. The two of them didn’t have instincts like Nate did. They were part of the reason they were in this mess to begin with.

  “How long before they figure out we’re missing?” Nate asked Marum.

  “The guard outside the tent looks like he’s sleeping,” Marum said. “He’ll be out cold for a while. Unless something unusual happens, we should make it out of here and be an hour north before they figure out what’s happened.”

  “And if we follow the tracks we will see the train,” Alban said.

  Marum nodded and rose to her feet but remained in a crouch. She looked at each of them with a cautious stare. “If you follow me, I will take you to your horses.” She then turned toward the tent entrance and peeked outside.

  Nate looked at Alban and Rachel, trying to gauge how they felt about following Marum, but the two of them seemed ready. Rachel set a hand on Nate’s shoulder as she passed by him. The two met eyes for
only a brief second and then they were out of the tent behind Marum.

  Nate fastened his belt quickly and slung his rifle and strap over his head and then moved into the back of the line. The night air was much colder outside the tent. He looked to his side and saw the gray elf guard who had been standing watch outside their tent. A thin line of blood had dripped down the side of his face and congealed in the cold.

  He was surprised to see his own horse among the string of others. The gray elves must have led it along after they kidnapped him in Strakfield. For some reason he felt lucky that the horses were already saddled and ready to go, but thinking about it, it wouldn’t have made sense to strip them of their riding gear. The gray elves were here for only a short time to meet with Kellen.

  They are about to be disappointed, Nate thought.

  As quiet as shadows, they climbed onto their horses, trying their best not to startle them or to let them make noise. Nate looked at the camp in front of them for just a moment. The fires were dying in the middle of the camp, and the tents flapped in the frigid wind. It wouldn’t be long before the gray elves figured out what had happened. The four of them needed to head north along the tracks with hope that they could stay ahead of their pursuers.

  Gwen

  Winter, 903 A.O.M.

  Mayor Farron wasted no time in gathering soldiers. The gnomes of Lorne were ready for this kind of thing even though it had been some years since they had fought against ravagers.

  The gnomes scrambled throughout the day and long into the evening. Those who were not soldiers grabbed any weapon they owned or could find, ready to defend their homes should the ravagers break through the gnome ranks. But Farron seemed confident that wasn’t going to happen.

  The short mayor was dressed in armor—a breastplate and coverings for his arms and legs, inlaid with intricate designs of gold and silver. The regular soldiers were not dressed in such fine armor, but they were covered in all the necessary places and armed as well as any army Gwen had seen. Each soldier carried a short rifle slung over his shoulder and a sword at his side. Gwen watched them get into formations at the edge of the city, all the while thinking about Kellen on that train and how she hoped Nate and the others were ready for him.

  Of course they weren’t ready for Kellen. Surely the others would have the wisdom not to take him head on. The man would kill them. Gwen couldn’t believe she’d sent them off on their own to meet the Sentinel. But she had been so confident that she would reach Kellen first. She had thought for sure that by splitting up, she would gain the speed necessary to reach him and then to stop him from taking the book. And her calculation hadn’t been too far off. They had only been an hour or so late. She knew it did no good to try and think of what she could have done differently. There were a million things. But that didn’t stop her from regretting some small decisions that brought them here.

  But she was a senior Sentinel and she had a pupil beside her to teach and Gwen needed to be an example. Gwen, Elise, and Jesse were there now, and their job no longer had anything to do with Kellen. They had to help defend the city of Lorne against the coming ravagers. None of them knew how big the opposition might be, and none of them knew how long this might take. But Gwen knew, without that wall blocking the caves, even if this were a small attack, there would be bigger ones in the future. If this were a large attack, there would still be more to come. The gnomes would be fighting off the ravagers until there was another wall, or at least until they could collapse the cave system entirely, but that was a dangerous choice. The caves under Lorne connected to other cities. It was possible to move from Lorne, to Shalto, to Maban, and to Ivano without ever stepping foot on the surface, though only the gnomes really understood the maze of passageways that proved to be more complex than even the dwarf halls that had been carved through the mountains. The dwarves liked to keep things simple and straightforward, but the intricate minds of the gnomes enjoyed the winding cave system, though they preferred to live on the surface. Collapsing the cave would cut the gnomes off from the other cities by way of the underground, and that left the gnomes vulnerable from other attackers.

  Gwen and her two companions, along with the army of gnomes around them, spent the night on the cold hilltop overlooking the cave entrance. She had assured Farron that the cave would remain sealed off for some time where she and Elise had collapsed it. She guessed it would take the ravagers the entire night to break through, and so it did.

  Gwen didn’t sleep at all through the night. Jesse and Elise fell asleep a couple of times, but it was fitful. Gwen was fairly certain that none of the soldiers before them had gone to sleep even though Farron commanded them to take shifts throughout the night. The gnomes were ready to defend Lorne, and none of them wanted to be caught unaware.

  The light of the morning sun shined over the hills to the east, though its rays were not warm enough to melt the snow on the ground. She thought about the train and how it would be reaching the meeting point in a few hours. She wondered if the others had made it, or if they had fallen behind or gotten lost. She desperately hoped they hadn’t tried to visit Droman, despite their long past. The gray elf, though passionate and right in his own mind, was dangerous and unafraid of killing.

  Gwen knew she could look in on them if she concentrated hard enough, but she needed her strength for whatever lay ahead.

  She stood at the top of the hill with Jesse and Elise on either side of her. They were quiet. Stilled. None of them knew what to expect in the coming moments. The sight before them was incredible, however. There were at least 500 gnomes standing together in rows, all of them armored and ready to fight. Mayor Farron stood in front of them all, shouting to the top of his lungs that they didn’t know the threat they faced, but whatever it was, they would fight to the bloody end to protect the city of Lorne.

  Gwen knew they had no other choice. Hawks had been sent to neighboring gnome cities with messages that stated that soldiers should be ready to march should news reach them of a need.

  When Farron finished with his battle speech, he made his way to the back of the ranks to meet with Gwen. She watched the soldiers standing about, talking to each other, making promises to stand by one another. They would shoot and stab whenever the ravagers showed themselves, and the ravagers would have a tough time reaching the top of the hill, but it was only a matter of time.

  “You’re telling me this was all because of a Sentinel?” Farron snapped as he walked up to Gwen and the others.

  Gwen shook her head. “I cannot know the true reason behind all of this. All I can do is help you to the best of my ability. Only after we fight and beat them back can we start to investigate Kellen.”

  “I never did like him,” Farron said. “Always had that strange look in his eyes.”

  “Can’t say I’ve ever noticed,” Gwen said.

  “Bah! The Sentinels are blind to each other. You spend so much time with your noses in your books or butting into the affairs of others, you hardly have time to study each other.”

  “We have a thousand years to study each other,” Gwen said. “You would try to leave your office if you had to spend so much time with the same people.” It was an offer at some humor, but Farron didn’t bite. He simply huffed and turned to see a hawk flying in toward him.

  He stuck out his short arm and the blue-eyed hawk landed. “I was told you called for me, Mayor,” the hawk said. To Gwen, the hawk looked about as big as the gnome himself.

  “That’s right,” Farron answered. “I need you and your companions to watch the battle from above. I have a few flaggers throughout. If any of them wave a red flag in the air, that’s for you to fly to the other cities and tell them Lorne has fallen. If you see a blue flag, that means to tell them we have won the battle and will not need their assistance.”

  “Is that all, Mayor?” the hawk asked.

  Farron nodded. “If there are no flags, then I will instruct you myself, or that means there is no one left alive to wave a flag. In that case, the r
ed flag protocol is in place.”

  “I understand.” The hawk then hunched low and jumped into the air, catching itself with its wings as it tore into the sky to speak to the other hawks.

  Gwen looked down at Farron. “It might not be the worst idea to have more gnomes come in for backup even if you aren’t sure of the outcome.”

  Farron waved her off. “It’ll take two days from Maban, and another two or three from any of the others. We are only 500 soldiers. If we need back up, then we needed to send that message three days ago.”

  “Are there any in Lorne who are capable who aren’t out here?” Elise asked.

  “I’m sure, young lady,” Farron said with a smile. “But it’s their job to protect their homes—not to be out here on the battlefield. If the battle gets to the city, then we are finished already.”

  Gwen knew the gnome was right. The ravagers weren’t known for their mercy. They wouldn’t just take over the city. They would do as their name suggested. They would destroy all of Lorne until there was nothing and no one left.

  She’d fought ravagers before. They were little more than animals, it seemed. In fact, Gwen would have never considered them more than animals but for the fact that they could communicate with words. It was as though each one was born without a conscience. There was no right and wrong with the ravagers. They simply had a mission and they sought to accomplish it.

  They were barbaric in the simplest of terms, but they were far worse than that. It was said that they used to be men, long ago. But greed had corrupted them. Their souls were dark, though their skin as white as a cloud. Most of them had long, straight hair that fell to their chests or the middle of their backs. To intimidate their foes, they cut off the tips of their children’s noses, giving each of their faces the look of a skull. They were about as thin as skeletons, too, though they carried a power within them that could not be explained—the extreme tolerance for pain.

  The most frightening part of a ravager was not the skull-like appearance, or the deceitful thinness of their frames, but it was the sounds they made as they attacked. To scare their enemies, the ravagers would let off a screech through the air that sounded like a child screaming. But not just any scream, a scream of desperation and horror. It was a distinct sound to the ravagers. It was creepy enough in its own right, but when there were hundreds of them, all screeching through the air to send chills through the enemy, it was enough to make the fiercest soldier cower.