But these gnomes would not cower. The ravagers were not as bad when you knew what to expect. These warriors had encountered plenty over the years, though never had these come against an entire army of them. Gwen had seen so many in her long life. She had seen fields of them, screeching out, crying for blood, demanding the organs of their enemies. She’d seen them eating, feasting on the bodies of their fallen adversaries. It was how they gained their sustenance, though Gwen suspected it played more to their intimidation factor than anything. She didn’t think they ate each other within their own homeland, though she wouldn’t put it past them completely.
Farron moved away from them, talking to some other officer about the battle ahead. Gwen knew her role in this fight—to take out as many ravagers as possible. There was not much to discuss, though when she looked at both Jesse and Elise, she sensed a nervousness within them.
“They need our help,” Gwen said, almost as if to assure them.
“I don’t mind saying I think we’ve helped them enough by warning them,” Jesse said.
“You are not required to stay here,” Gwen said. “Your duty is with the Sentinel Keep. Not with the gnomes.”
“What about Elise?”
“My duty is here,” Elise said. “If Sentinel Gwen thinks we should be here to fight, then that is what I will do.”
“You really think this is our fight?” Jesse said, looking at Gwen.
“Here, there are no gnomes, elves, or men,” Gwen said. “There are people in need. There are enemies who would destroy them. The three of us can offer help. A good deal of help, I’d say.”
Jesse looked at Elise and nodded. “I wasn’t thinking of leaving,” he said, shifting in his spot. “It’s just that I wanted to make sure that was our plan.”
“That is our plan,” Gwen said. She stepped forward, walking toward the front of the gnomes. She kept herself from smiling, though it wasn’t too hard. She appreciated the nervousness of Jesse and Elise. She had felt it many times before. She felt it even now. But this would not be their last day, she was sure of it. There was no premonition, there was no foresight that told her this. She could just feel it.
She hadn’t left Jesse and Elise to go anywhere in particular, though she didn’t mind assessing the gnome soldiers as she walked by them. But she wanted to give Jesse and Elise a moment. Their relationship as lovers was finished, but that probably also meant the end of their friendship. This would be one of the last times the two of them were together before Gwen either took Elise somewhere else to train her, or promoted Jesse to be an agent of the Sentinels. In that role he would be sent away from the keep more often than not, doing the business the Sentinels needed him to do. Gwen wasn’t going to disqualify Elise because of her love. She wasn’t going to sack Jesse either. If anyone knew what it was like to have a forbidden love, it was Gwen. The other Sentinels would not have it, and frankly, neither would she. It was true that love would interfere with both of them. Their work was for the betterment of Galamore, not to live for each other.
She looked at them as they spoke to each other. Elise kept her gaze averted from Jesse, making sure not to look him in the eyes. Gwen was proud of her. Glad that she had enough devotion to her work to at least try to deflect the advances of Jesse. It wasn’t much, but she would let them have their moment.
She turned away from them and looked into the cave that sat at the bottom of the hill. The ravagers were hungry and they had come to feast.
The gnomes are a creative bunch, Gwen thought to herself. She watched them as soldiers dragged large metal bins to the edge of the hill leading to the opening of the cave. The bins were as wide as they were tall, and they stood at least twenty feet high. There were four of them, each one set facing the cave entrance. They were so large that it took about fifty gnomes using ropes to drag each one to its spot, but the gnomes had trained for this and knew exactly what they were doing.
At the front of each bin was a door held closed by a latch connected to a chain. Upon closer inspection, Gwen saw that if one pulled on the chain hard enough, the door would open and logs would tumble out and roll toward the entrance of the cave.
When she first thought about it, she didn’t think it was the best defense. All the ravagers would have to do was wait for the onslaught of logs to end and then they would eventually break through. But when she got closer to the bins she could smell oil. This wouldn’t be a simple barricade of logs, they would be a flaming, burning wall of death hurtling toward the ravagers. Anyone trying to get over them would be burned alive.
The gnomes were patient. Farron ordered the logs not to be burned until they knew the ravagers were coming. He’d sent two gnomes deep into the cave to watch the barrier that had been made by Gwen and Elise. Once the ravagers looked like they were about to break free, the two gnomes were to sprint out and command them to ignite the fires. Then, they would wait for the ravagers.
Gwen knew many would burn. She knew the ravagers would try to cross over the logs despite the pain, despite the death. It was that tenacity that made them so dangerous. It wasn’t that they were oblivious to pain or that they didn’t fear death, it was that they cared more about seeing their enemies destroyed than anything else.
When the first bit of Gwen’s barrier broke away, everyone outside the cave could hear the incessant screeching—the childlike screaming of terror from the ravagers. This confirmed that they were not about to face a few, but many. Gwen hoped this small gnome army was equipped to hold its ground.
She stood next to Elise and Jesse now. Jesse held tightly to his pistol and made sure his sword was loose in the sheath at his back. Elise had been given a gnome sword that was more like a large dagger in her hands. Gwen chose not to use a weapon—thinking it had been so long since she had used one—her best chance was to conjure her magic to fight them. She was not a Sentinel who had studied the art of battle magic as Kellen had, but she knew enough to stay alive. All the Sentinels were required to know enough to stay alive, though it didn’t always help them.
The screeching within the cave got louder and louder, the voices of the ravagers echoing throughout the caverns. It wasn’t a minute later that they witnessed the two gnomes sprinting out of the mouth of the cave, screaming for the soldiers to ignite the logs. The gnomes at the bins tossed their flaming torches onto the top of the logs and immediately the wood erupted in flames. All four bins billowed with orange fire, black smoke towering into the sky. The flames grew hotter and brighter, and Gwen could feel them even from the back of the line.
The sounds of crumbling rock echoed off the walls below and they knew the ravagers were mere moments away from charging up toward them.
Gwen wished she knew how many there were. At least if the gnomes had been attacked by an enemy on the surface, they would have been able to see them coming. They might have been able to prepare. For all they knew, the ravagers would be crawling out from the caves for days.
More crumbling rocks pounded through the cave, sounding much like a sequence of muffled gunshots in the distance.
The emergence of the ravagers was unmistakable and they were even more frightening than Gwen remembered. Their round, pink eyes, and their bleached-white skin and hair seemed to make them glow. They looked like skeletons charging up the path from the mouth of the cave, the skin pulled tight on every part of their bodies, their teeth yellow and black with rot.
Then came the command to release the logs, and simultaneously the bins opened and the fiery wood tumbled toward the opening of the cave. The logs had not been so consumed with fire that they lacked substance. They were still solid and sturdy enough to bowl over all the ravagers in their path.
There was no hesitation from the ravagers as they charged forward, ignoring the logs and keeping their eyes set on the gnomes ahead. But these were consumed by fire, and crushed by the rolling logs. More screeches cut through the air as the smell of burning flesh clouded upward, finding its way into the nostrils of their enemies. The logs continued to t
umble downward until the bins were tipped forward to empty whatever might be left inside.
These burning logs created another barrier for the ravagers that covered the entire entrance of the cave, though Gwen could already see them crawling through the gaps. Searing flesh sizzled audibly, followed by the gut-wrenching cries of the ravagers as they crawled forward.
Farron gave the order for the gnomes to fire at will, and each one aimed his rifle at anything that moved through the burning heap and fired.
Gwen watched some of the ravagers try to crawl over the burning coals, through the licking flames. She stared at them as they transmogrified into black, charred bundles of flesh, still scraping forward until their limbs either burned away to ash, or a bullet ended them.
Gwen felt sickened by what she saw—how they crawled ahead without regard to themselves, their pain. The ravagers needed no strategy, for they replaced it with persistence. They needed no weapons, for they preferred to viciously attack with their clawed hands and sharp teeth.
She turned away from the sickening view before them and stole a glance in Elise’s direction. Both she and Jesse stared at the scene before them in utter horror. For a moment, she thought Jesse might vomit at the sight as he bent forward slightly and covered his mouth with his hands.
Gwen should have warned them about this. She had seen this kind of thing before—that a ravager wouldn’t stop fighting until it was dead. No matter the pain. No matter the circumstance. No mercy could be shown to a ravager, because there was no plea for it.
She set a hand on Elise’s shoulder and the two of them looked at her. “When they eventually reach us, be sure you kill them. Don’t try to disarm them. Don’t try to incapacitate them. Aim for their hearts. Aim for their heads. Whatever you can do to kill them. Because if you don’t…”
“They will destroy us,” Elise said.
Gwen knew they could see it. They now saw the ravagers as not some fabled being from stories meant to scare children. They were real. They were breathing people, though so much less than people. They had feelings, but they were so corrupted they didn’t deserve another thought. Gwen wondered if the ravagers thought the same about them.
She didn’t care.
The logs started to break away into coals and the ravagers crawled forward in higher numbers. That meant more melting flesh set ablaze, more shots silencing the screeches of pain.
Now many of the ravagers charged forward, stepping on the burned bodies of other fallen soldiers. Though many still caught fire, others made it close to the gnomes before being shot down in their tracks. The ravagers were making progress, however, and soon they were on top of the gnomes.
Guns were replaced with swords as the ravagers tore into the gnomes. Jesse and Elise held steady to their weapons while Gwen stood in front of them, waiting for the ravagers to break the lines.
It didn’t take long. The gnomes had moved back by at least twenty feet and soon the lines had vanished. The entire crowd was a mix of gnomes and ravagers, blades against hands. Gwen conjured a glowing ball of fire about the size of a small pebble that floated just above her palm. A ravager charged toward her and she sent the fireball into its face, engulfing its head into a flaming stump at its shoulders. The ravager fell limply to the ground, but there was no time to watch it.
Gwen abandoned her defensive posture and went on the attack. Whether it was through magical attacks or by the force of her hands, Gwen tore through the ravagers. In one attack, she sent a ball of fire toward a ravager’s chest and in the same motion bent down to pick up a dead gnome’s sword off the ground and sent it sailing into the heart of a different ravager.
Gaping throats and severed heads and limbs were the gnome injuries found all over the field, though the gnomes dealt their own mighty blows.
Out of the corner of Gwen’s eye, she spotted Jesse firing his gun at ravagers and sending them to the ground only feet in front of him. Elise, on the other hand, found herself much closer to the enemy than Gwen would have liked, considering her close-range weapon. Still, Elise didn’t cower from the ravagers, and stood upright, slicing and stabbing with precision.
Many of the ravager deaths could have been avoided if any number of them might have thought about a better plan of attack, but there was no thought other than attack.
And as Gwen looked toward the mouth of the cave and watched them continue to pile through, she feared that strategy was all the ravagers needed to destroy them all.
Devlin
Winter, 903 A.O.M.
Devlin and Bastion had picked up their trail about a day before. The seasoned Ranger hadn’t told Devlin the full extent of their mission, but he had at least learned they were tracking Slaughter Okoro, the infamous gang leader, and a band of his men. By the tracks, it seemed that there were about ten to twenty men, but he couldn’t be completely sure. He didn’t know why they were tracking them, nor did Bastion care to give him any clues. When Devlin had asked for the third or fourth time, Bastion didn’t even acknowledge that he’d spoken.
They traveled in the northernmost part of Galamore, just west of Lochlan. The area was hilly and rocky. The Great Ridge stood tall in the distance to the north, defining the northern border of Galamore. They would be in Elf Country by nightfall. There was the chance, however, that they would be overrun by bandits. These parts were notorious for them. Travelers didn’t pass through this territory if they knew what was good for them. Most would travel along the North River, up to Lochlan, and then into Elf Country. That provided the safest and most secure route. But that would have put the Rangers behind, so they had to cut directly westward from Tel Haven, putting their lives at risk.
Bastion didn’t seem to be worried, however. The man would have been confident in taking on a tornado if it looked at him wrong. The absence of fear in the man was unnerving to Devlin. He’d tried to voice his concerns once or twice to Bastion about different things, but each time the Ranger gave Devlin a look that made him feel like a small child, refusing to answer him.
Complaining of his injuries was out of the question as well. Devlin winced once or twice as the horse plodded up jagged rocks, and Bastion laughed at him, saying, “Imagine if you had to ride these lands with your arms dangling by a thread of muscle and your eye slashed out!”
Devlin didn’t have to ask if this had happened to Bastion. He didn’t want to. He imagined a younger version of Bastion nearly cut to shreds, laughing about it as he trotted on his horse.
No. Any concern for safety or injury was to be suppressed. Bastion wouldn’t hear of it. Where other human beings might feel concerned, Bastion found pleasure. Bastion wasn’t a human being, Devlin thought. He couldn’t have been.
In any case, Devlin hoped that the Crimson Army uniforms they wore might ward off any bandits. They had enough weapons with them. Devlin carried his precious rifle in his saddle, his saber at his side, and a pistol at his belt. Bastion had the same. But it only took a single bullet to the brain or heart to kill a man. Even a man like Bastion could be stopped by a well-placed shot. But Bastion seemed oblivious to this notion, and seemed to even welcome somebody to try.
That was why Bastion didn’t flinch when bandits actually did come after them, and Devlin’s limbs started shaking.
They heard the thudding sound of horses trampling toward them, coupled with the continuous booming of gunfire growing louder by the second. Bastion sat upon his stallion, calm and ready. The wind whipped at his white hair as he scanned the terrain with his one good eye. Devlin sat a few paces behind him, pistol in hand, trying to keep himself from shaking. He wished they were in the forests of Elf Country already. He would be able to lose their pursuers in there, but alas they were not close enough to the edge where rocky hills started to give way to flat grasslands, and eventually, trees.
“Shouldn’t we try to run?” Devlin asked, hopeful of the man’s approval to the idea.
Bastion spat on the ground and sat a little straighter. “The bandits have already seen us. They�
��ll overtake us if we run.” He shrugged. “Maybe if they see that we are Rangers from Tel Haven, they won’t be so quick to attack us.” He turned his head to Devlin and scowled. “Put your gun away. And sit up straight. You look scared.”
“Bandits don’t usually take prisoners,” Devlin muttered to himself as he holstered his six-shooter.
“You’re right about that,” Bastion said. “But as intimidating as they may be, they are cowards. They will run if what they are up against is too much for them.” He turned his head toward Devlin again and smiled wide, his teeth yellow and gapped. “Today you get your first lesson as a Ranger: to know when to stand your ground and when to flee.”
“I don’t understand,” Devlin said. “We might have been able to outrun them if we had started off the moment we heard them.”
“And then what?” Bastion spat again. “Lesson number two: Rangers of Galamore are protectors of peace. If we see bandits on the road, we destroy them, we bring them to justice, for their very existence is against the laws of the land.”
The thundering hooves and shots were getting louder, rapidly increasing the beat of Devlin’s heart.
“But what about the mission?” Devlin asked almost in a panic. “Is the mission not the top priority?”
“Your mission is to do what I tell you without question,” Bastion said. “You may technically be a Ranger of Galamore, but right now you are in training. When I say we stop and confront the bandits, you will agree, am I understood?”
The Outlaw's Quest (Keeper of the Books, Book 2) Page 23