Sea Queen (4 page)

The trinket gave no indication that his words had affected anything, so he sat, waiting and wondering what his next move should be. Perhaps he should return now to searching the coast and leave the others to their fate. He didn’t have time to care for them, and Tyson seemed as good a leader as any. They had no food, but they had money. Talon remembered that Tyson had cut the coin purse from the dead guard—and he had not yet offered Talon any for helping them escape. He would have to remember that the next time Tyson wanted food. The coin would help him to replenish his rations and might even get him a room somewhere. The idea of a hot bath left his tired bones aching even more, and the idea of hot food made his mouth water.

He daydreamed about Agoran cuisine as he fought to stay awake. The rain had stopped before he’d come out on guard duty, and the clouds had begun to part a little. By the passage of the moon, he counted the hours. It must have been near midnight when Chief returned and woke him with a nudge to the arm. He jumped with a start and yelled Akkeri’s name.

“Oh…Hey, boy, did you break up the search party?”

Chief barked and sat down with his head on Talon’s lap.

“Good, Chief, that’s my boy.” Talon laughed as he scratched him behind the ears. The wolf quickly turned onto his back for a belly rub. He marveled again at how real Chief felt.

“Them runaway slaves in there are tired and hungry. Think you can rustle up some game? A few rabbits or something? I think they might share in their coin if we give them a hot meal.”

Chief sniffed and sneezed twice, and pawed at his nose.

“What’s that, boy? Did you come across game trails?”

Chief sneezed again and yawned. He got up off his back and shook his furry coat. Something caught his eye and he growled low in his throat. Talon turned to see Tyson standing in the doorway, wide-eyed. He didn’t call off Chief right away, letting Tyson fear him for a moment.

“It’s alright, Chief.” Talon met Tyson’s eyes. “He’s a friend.”

Chief stopped and the hair on his back relaxed. He wagged his tail and offered himself to Tyson, who petted him cautiously.

“Good magic wolf.” He laughed nervously as he pet Chief with longer strokes.

“Like I said, Chief. Tyson, here, won’t mind parting with a few coins for some fire cooked meat.”

Tyson offered a sly grin. “I was going to split it with you, anyway. I owe you that much at least.”

He untied the purse from his belt and sat down next to Talon. The coins clanged heavily as he dumped the contents onto the grass. Talon recognized silver, and guessed that the dull brown coins were bronze. There was no gold. Tyson picked one of the silver coins up to inspect it, and Talon did likewise. One side of the coin portrayed the head of a bearded man wearing a pointed crown, below the bust was the name TOBIAS. The other side of the coin depicted a small island, as seen through the clouds. At its center Talon could make out a castle. The bronze coin was less adorned—on one side was a single S set within a circle, and on the other, a soaring eagle clutching a sword in its talons.

Tyson counted out the coins. There were four silver and twenty three bronze pieces. He gave Talon two silver and eleven bronze. Knowing that there was one left over Talon cocked his eyebrow at him. Tyson held up the extra coin.

“This one’s for luck. Isn’t every day you meet someone famous.”

Talon didn’t know what he meant, and Tyson saw his confusion. He pocketed the coin with a chuckle.

“So you says you escaped Volnoss, eh? You must be the Skomm the Vald been looking for.”

Talon froze, not knowing what to say.

“Thodin’s harry arse—it
is
you!” Tyson yelled and slapped his knee, and noticed how Talon cringed. “Relax, friend. You’re far from where anybody knows what I’m talking about.”

Talon started hastily gathering his coins. “I should go.”

“What’s the big hurry?” Tyson grabbed his arm as he tried to stand.

Chief stood up with a growl.

“Alright, alright,” said Tyson. He let go and held up his empty hands. “Feikinstafir, you two are jumpy. Stay—we can help you look for this girl of yours if you want.”

Talon took a few paces left and then right, not knowing what to do. He was tired of being alone, and though he had Chief, it wasn’t the same as someone who talked back. He liked Tyson well enough…and he
had
given him half the coins… He wasn’t sure how much they were worth, but he guessed a lot. The guard had been dressed in nice clothes, and the sword didn’t look cheap.

“Don’t you have plans of your own?” Talon asked.

“What plans?” Tyson extended his arms wide. “I been in Agora about as long as you—what
plans
would I have? Up until last night, I thought that I was doomed to a life of slavery.”

“Well…we’re gonna gain more notice as a large group. We look a lot different than these people. Look at Thorg—he stands heads over any man I have seen here, and Windy is nearly as tall as him.”

“Marcus looks more like them than any of us, with his blonde hair and all. He can pretend to be our master.”

“Where are our chains?”

“It ain’t always like that. Once slaves are broken, there ain’t no need for chains. I even heard on the slaver that we Skomm slaves are the best ones, and the most loyal. Ain’t that some shyte?”

Talon absently pet Chief’s head. “I don’t know.”

“At least stick around till Marcus is in shape for travel. Him and the others could really use your wolf’s protection and hunting skills.”

“Alright. For a little while anyway. But I’m headed back to the coast—I have to find Akkeri.”

A wide smile grew on Tyson’s face. “Excellent! Now how about those rabbits you were talking about?”

Friends he shall find, and enemies as well. – Gretzen Spiritbone, 4991

Talon woke to the smell of meat cooking on an open fire. He sat up with a start and felt for Chief’s figurine in his pocket—his hand clasped the relic, and he gave a sigh of relief.

“Mornin’,” Tyson said. He was slowly turning a stick over the small fire in the center of the room. Three rabbits were skewered and browning over the flame. Fat hissed and crackled as it dripped from the meat into the fire. The others were awake as well and sat huddled around watching the food cook.

“Where’s Chief?” Talon asked, rubbing the sleep from his itchy eyes.

“Watching the perimeter. He came back with these three beauties a little after you fell asleep. Hope you don’t mind I used your knife, needed it to skin the rabbits.” He tossed the leather bound blade back to Talon.

“You went through my things?”

Tyson shrugged. “Didn’t want to wake you to ask for the knife—figured you wouldn’t mind. We’re starving, and the sword is too big for that kind of work. I seen the handle through the top of the bag.”

Sure you did,
thought Talon. He always tightened his pack shut with the draw string, out of habit.

Tyson pulled free a piece of meat and popped it in his mouth. He huffed as if it were too hot and licked the grease from his fingers. “Rabbit’s done! Get it while it’s hot!”

Talon’s stomach pangs made him forget his anger. He took a seat with the others and ate his portion. The rabbit meat was greasy and delicious. The five of them tore into the meal and didn’t let up until they’d sucked all the marrow from the bones. Talon found his water skin full and glanced at Tyson, who sat back with a content grin on his face and said, “Filled her up in a crick a bit south of here.”

Talon nodded a thanks and downed large gulps of the cold water. He passed off the skin to Thorg. The lot of them sat back for a time, enjoying their fullness. Windy gave a giant burp which left them all giggling, and soon it became a belching contest. Talon hadn’t laughed in a long time, and it felt good. For a while he forgot his guilt and his worries, and enjoyed the familiar friendly banter. They all seemed to relax for the first time since escaping, and even though they likely had people searching for them, no one would have known by the laughter and merriment echoing throughout the windmill.

After some time, Chief bounded into the tower, startling the group and reminding them of the peril they were still in.

“What is it, Chief?” Talon asked.

The spirit wolf moved to the northern wall and pawed at the stone.

“People coming from the north?” Tyson asked.

Chief barked once.

Tyson took control. “Alright, everybody, let’s get going. Douse the fire and cover it with dirt. We have to move!”

Talon, Tyson, and Chief rushed outside as the other three went to covering up the camp inside the windmill. Together they peered around the corner, looking north toward the wheat and corn fields. Talon found no sign of the search party, but he knew they weren’t far away. Soon the others joined them and they took off to the southwest, through the forest.

“We need to find a stream or river to cross in case they got them hounds with them still,” said Tyson.

“Is the ocean water enough for you?” Talon asked. “As I said before, I’m returning to my search.”

“We can’t go back north just yet.”

Talon stopped. “Then I’ll be seeing you. I’m returning to the coast. Come on, Chief.”

As he turned to leave, Windy jumped in urgently. “Wait! We might need the wolf again to shake them off our trail.”

Marcus and Thorg nodded agreement.

Talon glanced to the north and sighed. “Listen—I helped you escape from the slavers. I’ve shared my food…I’m sorry, but I got my own troubles. You’re welcome to come with me, but my road runs along the coast.”

Marcus, Windy, and Thorg glanced at each other in silent agreement and stepped forward to join him.

Tyson glared at them all as if insulted, but quickly replaced his scowl with a wide smile and said, “Whatever the group wants to do.”

Talon nodded, and Tyson returned the gesture curtly.

“Alright, Chief, back to the coast. I want you to scout ahead. Return if you see anything,” Talon instructed.

Chief barked and ran off.

They traveled through the forest and soon came to the creek where the water skin had been filled. Talon stopped to fill it once more as the others drank their fill. They followed the small stream until it turned too far east, at which point Talon led them once more north toward the coast. By noon they reached the ocean and found Chief waiting for them on the beach.

Talon guessed they were a few miles west of the town where he had found his new friends. He wondered if the slave ship had yet sailed—and if Akkeri was on it.

“So, what are we looking for?” Tyson asked, as they stood on the beach in the hot summer sun.

Talon shrugged. “She left Volnoss on a small keipr during the Eye of Thodin.

“So we’re looking for a shipwreck?” Thorg asked. He received a swift slap upside the head from Windy.

“You really
is
stupid as you look, ain’t you?” she said, shaking her head.

“It’s alright,” said Talon. “We very well may be looking for a shipwreck.”

They started off to the west, walking along the beach when they dared. Ships appeared now and again off the coast, but none of them were near enough to make out the group. Nevertheless, when they did spot a ship they moved away beyond the dunes where they could still spy the beach. Windy hummed Skomm fire songs as they went, and a few times the others joined in. Talon led them at a quick pace but no one complained. He suspected they would do whatever he asked, given that he was Chief’s master. He sensed Tyson’s annoyance over his apparent leadership, and though Talon didn’t care whether or not they followed him, he knew Tyson did. The young man barely spoke, and when asked something by one of the others, he often gave only a grunt of indifference.

When they approached the outskirts of another fishing village, Tyson’s demeanor changed dramatically. “Get down and shut up!” he said, and dropped to his belly on a dune covered in long, thin grass.

Talon and the others complied.

“We should go around,” said Marcus. He was awkwardly trying to hide his large frame with the others.

“Just get your golden mop out of sight and let me do the thinking,” Tyson barked.

“What do we do, Talon?” Thorg asked. A sigh was heard from Tyson, having been passed over for advice.

“I have to check the docks—she might have put in here. You four do what you want, but we can’t all go into town.”

“Can’t we?” Tyson asked. He glanced at the others. “Hot food…hot bath…maybe a drink or two...”

“You out your mind, Tyson?” said Windy.

“What? You going to hide in the woods the rest of your life? You going to return to Volnoss?” No one spoke. “Like I said before, Marcus and his blonde hair shouldn’t tip anyone to his being Skomm.” He turned to Talon, his eyes alight with ideas. “You got rope in that pack of yours?”

“Yeah but—.”

“Perfect! Marcus and I can bind the three of you and make like you are newly purchased slaves. Marcus, act like our master. I’ll play your loyal slave guard.”

“Hold on,” said Talon. “I’m not going into the village with my hands tied. And why do you get to be his loyal slave guard?”

“Because,” Tyson grinned. “I’ve got the sword.”

“Look, this is all getting out of control.”

“If you’re scared, say you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared.”

“Then what’s the problem? I, for one, would like a bath and hot food and drink. If we’re going to fit in with these people, we gotta start somewhere.”

“Should we start with a lie?”

Tyson scoffed. “Right, instead we should tell ‘em the truth. Hi, we’re five runaway Skomm slaves from Volnoss. We killed a man in the town back east a ways. We’re looking for a place to sleep.”

Everyone but Windy and Talon laughed.

“Yeah,” Thorg giggled. “Here, barkeep, we stole these coins from the dead guard.”

“Shut up Thorg,” said Tyson. He turned back to Talon. “Listen Brother, we gotta stick together, and we have to bathe. The lot of you are starting to stink.”

Talon couldn’t help but laugh. Tyson patted him on the back.

“What can go wrong? I got a sword, you got the wolf.” Tyson glanced at the ring as he spoke. “Shyte, man. There are five of us, and we’re bigger than most of them.”

“Fine, but you ain’t gonna convince anyone Marcus is our master when he’s wearing them rags.”

Tyson regarded the outfit and nodded. “Very true. I like your thinking.”

“Yeah Tyson, we can’t wear rags and make like Mar—“

“Shut up, Thorg,” said Tyson. “We gotta go in and steal some clothes first. I’ll do it. You four stay here with the wolf—don’t want him setting off the dogs.”

Talon and the others watched him go, and then waited in silence behind a stone wall, which seemed to wrap around the entirety of the neighboring farm. After an hour or so, Tyson returned carrying an armful of clothes and a wide grin, and the others ran to meet him.

Marcus was tall, and the clothes were a little too small for him. However, once he had dressed in the white shirt, brown trousers and jacket, Tyson slapped him on the shoulder in celebration and said, “It’s perfect.”

“He looks like he stole somebody’s clothes,” Windy mumbled.

Tyson sighed. “Talon, lend me your knife.”

Talon complied, wondering what he had in mind, but was soon confused when Tyson made a few small cuts and proceeded to tear them into larger holes. He even tore off a sleeve. Handing the knife back to Talon, he stepped back and eyed his work with a nod.

“There…maybe that will take the notice off the fit. Here’s the story: We all work for Marcus, and we was hit by a group of thieves out on the road—barely escaped with our lives, and they got off with our wagon and horses… Savvy?”

They marched down the road toward the fishing village and Talon’s apprehension grew. Why had he agreed to this? He didn’t have to be reminded to put his head down as the eyes of the fishermen fell upon the group—it was second nature. He twisted his hands making sure he could still get out of his bonds if need be. The ring on his finger gave him courage, and the thought of Chief watching their backs gave him the resolution to go on. He thought himself a coward then—the others had no magic rings, no spirit wolf, yet they followed Tyson’s plan without much complaint. Only Windy objected, but her misgivings were put to rest by Tyson’s reassurances.

The sun was high in the sky, slowly being overtaken from the east by dark, grey clouds. The trees showed the bottoms of their leaves as the wind picked up, and soon the rain would start.

The village seemed almost deserted, which was fine with Talon. Likely most of the men were out on the fishing boats, trying to check all the nets before the rains came. In the distance the tops of the tallest trees swayed in a wind unfelt on the ground. The clouds began to overtake the sun then—fat, churning clouds, lumbering slowly but menacingly across the sky. Talon was glad he had decided to come—a night spent huddled next to a rock in a downpour would be a miserable and sleepless one. He just hoped a worse fate didn’t await them.

“Alright, Marcus. You’re a slaver from…Anybody know the name of a town ‘round here?” Tyson said, as they approached the village.

Talon’s mind raced to remember one of the towns from his amma’s old maps.

“Brysten,” said Windy. “I heard of the place on the slaver. Some of the elders talk ‘bout it being in southern Shierdon.”

“Right,” said Tyson. “Marcus, you are a wealthy slaver from Brysten. You bought this lot in that last town and were headed home when we were attacked by bandits. Your horses, wagon, and all your possessions were stolen. Got it?”

“What about—”

“Ain’t no what about—that’s it!”

It was fairly quiet when they entered the village proper. To the right was an inn, and Talon dared a quick glance at the sign hanging above the door—The Mermaid’s Teet.

“That there looks like a good enough place to get a drink,” said Marcus.

“Keep dreaming, Blondie,” Windy hissed under her breath.

Tyson pointed toward the ocean. “Nah, lead us to the inn up ahead.”

The inn was called the Sleepy Sailor, and as they followed Marcus through the heavy door and into the common room Talon couldn’t help but gawk—the place was beautiful. The furniture was plush, with leather cushions and frills adorning the ornately carved wood. A number of naval paintings lined the long walls on both sides. Rows and islands of tables were scattered throughout, and a stage took up a good portion of the south wall. On the opposite side stood a huge fireplace glowing with a low flame, just enough to dry out the damp air.

Marcus and Tyson strode up to the empty bar as if they had been there before. The others meekly followed behind, pulled along by the rope in Tyson’s hand.