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Back The Lost Books Save as PDF
Chapters (132)
  1. COVER PAGE
  2. CHOSEN: LOST BOOK 1
  3. BEGINNINGS
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE
  33. THIRTY
  34. INFIDEL: LOST BOOK 2
  35. BEGINNINGS
  36. ONE
  37. TWO
  38. THREE
  39. FOUR
  40. FIVE
  41. SIX
  42. SEVEN
  43. EIGHT
  44. NINE
  45. TEN
  46. ELEVEN
  47. TWELVE
  48. THIRTEEN
  49. FOURTEEN
  50. FIFTEEN
  51. SIXTEEN
  52. SEVENTEEN
  53. EIGHTEEN
  54. NINETEEN
  55. TWENTY
  56. TWENTY-ONE
  57. TWENTY-TWO
  58. TWENTY-THREE
  59. TWENTY-FOUR
  60. TWENTY-FIVE
  61. TWENTY-SIX
  62. TWENTY-SEVEN
  63. RENEGADE: LOST BOOK 3
  64. BEGINNINGS
  65. ONE
  66. TWO
  67. THREE
  68. FOUR
  69. FIVE
  70. SIX
  71. SEVEN
  72. EIGHT
  73. NINE
  74. TEN
  75. ELEVEN
  76. TWELVE
  77. THIRTEEN
  78. FOURTEEN
  79. FIFTEEN
  80. SIXTEEN
  81. SEVENTEEN
  82. EIGHTEEN
  83. NINETEEN
  84. TWENTY
  85. TWENTY-ONE
  86. TWENTY-TWO
  87. TWENTY-THREE
  88. TWENTY-FOUR
  89. TWENTY-FIVE
  90. TWENTY-SIX
  91. TWENTY-SEVEN
  92. TWENTY-EIGHT
  93. TWENTY-NINE
  94. THIRTY
  95. THIRTY-ONE
  96. THIRTY-TWO
  97. THIRTY-THREE
  98. THIRTY-FOUR
  99. THIRTY-FIVE
  100. THIRTY-SIX
  101. THIRTY-SEVEN
  102. CHAOS: LOST BOOK 4
  103. BEGINNINGS
  104. ONE
  105. TWO
  106. THREE
  107. FOUR
  108. FIVE
  109. SIX
  110. SEVEN
  111. EIGHT
  112. NINE
  113. TEN
  114. ELEVEN
  115. TWELVE
  116. THIRTEEN
  117. FOURTEEN
  118. FIFTEEN
  119. SIXTEEN
  120. SEVENTEEN
  121. EIGHTEEN
  122. NINETEEN
  123. TWENTY
  124. TWENTY-ONE
  125. TWENTY-TWO
  126. TWENTY-THREE
  127. TWENTY-FOUR
  128. TWENTY-FIVE
  129. TWENTY-SIX
  130. TWENTY-SEVEN
  131. TWENTY-EIGHT
  132. TWENTY-NINE

Jackov’s drinking canteen was half full, and he gave himself a spit bath hoping the water was lake water—but he doubted it. Fighters rarely put the healing lake water in their drinking canteens so as not to mistake it for ordinary water and waste it by drinking rather than bathing with it.

There was no way he could make it to the forest on foot in time. His only chance of survival was to find a Horde horse. But tomorrow would be his third day without a full bath, thanks to a decision encouraged by Jackov not to bathe earlier in the day. Better to wait until the Red Valley so the effects of the healing water would last longer if they ran into trouble, he’d said.

Now, the disease would be setting in by morning. With each passing hour he would grow weaker and less capable of finding or taking a horse.

He used the spyglass to scan the valley again, but the light was completely gone and he couldn’t make out the hills, much less Horde on the hills.

Thomas shoved the glass under his belt and turned west. There, low rolling hills led into several shallow canyons. He had to reach them, but not until he’d gotten their attention. Played their game. Shown himself. Let them know their plot had succeeded. He would draw them into a pursuit on his terms, so that he stood a chance of ambushing a stray group and taking a horse.

If their objective was to strand him in the valley until the disease took him, they wouldn’t attack him until he was weak—his reputation would buy him at least that much time. That is, unless they were fools, and this general wasn’t.

Thomas took a deep breath, looked left then right into the night, and headed down into the open valley to show himself to this general who called himself Justin of Southern.

THE SKY WAS JUST STARTING TO LIGHTEN WHEN JOHNIS reached the city’s main gate. Within an hour the Horde would begin to stir. One hour, or all is lost, he thought.

Speed was his friend. Speed and boldness and more than a little bit of foolishness. For the moment, speed and stealth were impossible companions, so he went for speed alone, kicking the horse and forcing it into a full run straight up the city’s main road.

The street was made from hard-packed dirt, not stone, so the hooves thudded rather than clacked, but the sound was still enough to wake those in the houses that lined the road. With any luck, those dead asleep would wake, but he would be past, and they would roll over for more sleep.