Sea Queen (20 page)

Elf has been away from me for many days. They come, they take him. His elders are angered by his actions. He goes to speak for himself. I say I will go, I will speak. Give them long-eared elves my mind. But he smile, he say no. He leave me books, so many books I could read for years. Strange tales in elf language, long history they have, as old as the heavens they seem. My magic is strong here, and grows by the day. Elf say he knows not why, I wonder if he lies. I have dream last night. I see boy again. Old heart soars – Gretzen Spiritebone, 4997

The Sea Queen sailed south without incident as the night returned to claim the heavens. The bright moon, five days waning, lit the way as they made for an uncertain future. In the heat of the battle Talon had forgotten Argath had been taken to one of the cells. He left Grimald at the wheel and, with Chief in tow, made his way down into the prisoner hold. Talon called Argath’s name as he raised a lantern to the small windows. When the soft glow revealed the outline of the man Talon fumbled with the keys until one worked. He threw back the door and ran inside.

“Argath, Argath, tell me you’re still alive!” he cried as he approached the hanging man.

At first he thought him dead. His body was covered in dried blood, and his face was nearly unrecognizable. On his right foot he wore a rat cage that, while closed off from his foot for the time being, had been in use. Three of his toes were missing, and chunks had been taken out of the other ones.

“You’ll get nothing from me, you feikin bikkjas,” Argath mumbled.

“Argath, it’s me, Talon. We won! We freed the slaves. We’ve control of the ship!”

The gladiator’s head lolled and speculative eyes tried to focus. “Dragonshyte!”

Talon thought he might burst with excitement. He unstrapped Argath’s bloody foot from the hideous contraption and kicked it to the corner. From the big ring of keys he tried to find which one would unlock Argath’s chains. When he finally freed him, the gladiator fell.

Talon heaved the man to his feet. “Come on, Argath! Your crew awaits.”

The words brought strength to the wounded Skomm, and he lifted himself higher. It took a long time for them to get back on deck, but when they did, a bleary eyed Argath was met with applause. He glanced around at the Skomm and turned teary eyes on Talon.

“By the gods!” he said. “Tell me this isn’t a dream.”

“This
is
a dream,” said Talon. “One that has come true.”

He left Argath on the quarter deck and returned to the cells. He found Skomm and Agorans alike in many of the holds.

He found Gill-Gammond hanging from chains and approached cautiously.

The lunatic raised his head shakily. Swollen eyes regarded him. “Aye, lad. Would you be so good as to release us?” said Gill.

Talon reached up and unlocked the shackles. Instantly Gammond screeched and dove to the back of the cell.

“The rat who stole our cheese!”

“It’s alright, Gammond,” said Talon, showing that he was no threat. “You are safe now. McGillus is dead.”

The lunatic stepped closer, cautiously sniffing about. “Dead, you say?” said Gill.

“Yes. You are free.”

The night was spent tending to the injured. Demoore did his part, neither looking surprised by the day’s events nor troubled by them. The healer simply went about his work as though nothing was amiss. Only two of Argath’s toes could be saved, and Demoore said he was lucky to still have the biggest, his limp wouldn’t be so bad, but it would be permanent.

Argath seemed not to care. Throughout his surgery he had clung to the sides of the wooden operating table and listened to Talon recite the details of the rebellion. When he finally passed out from the pain, and the liquor meant to kill it, Talon took his leave.

He made his way to the deck and found Grimald standing at his post beside the wheelman. Upon seeing him, the lich lit up as Talon had never seen him do.

“Windwalker, master. The wheelman has instructions to sail south around Eldon Island. In Isladon slavery is illegal. I believe the Skomm will find safe haven there. I have done as you asked. I have helped you to free the slaves.”

Talon was reminded that he had a powerful lich at his disposal, as well as a magic ring and a spirit wolf. With such weapons he would be unstoppable. The Vald and Vaka alike would pay for their crimes, and Talon could become chieftain over all of Volnoss…

“I have seen power corrupt men before,” said Grimald. “But I have never been surprised.”

His allusion sobered Talon and he turned away in shame. His thoughts had been strange of late. The power of Kyrr was intoxicating, and Talon found that he was drunk.

“You are right, Grimald. You have done well for your people. Before you are freed, I would ask what you know of Akkeri.”

“The red-haired lass was sold to the royal family of Shierdon. You will find her there, on the lake island of Belldon.”

Argath had been right. But then a thought occurred to Talon. “Why didn’t he just sell her to Fylkin? Wouldn’t he pay more than the royal family?”

“You must remember, McGillus was a business man above all else. The Shierdon royals are much more powerful than the Chiefson of Timber Wolf Tribe. And with Akkeri in their possession, they would have leverage over the tribe. They paid a handsome price for the runaway, and will use her to placate the barbarians.

Talon feared for her all the more.

“Thank you, Grimald. Must you go? You would be a great help in the liberation of the Volnoss Skomm.”

The lich looked out over the ocean and seemed to consider the offer.

“No. I have had enough of this world of violence. I wish only for peace in the eternal void.”

Talon held the necklace out before him. “Very well. I hereby release you. You are free.”

The lich pulled his hood back as his body began to flake away in the wind. He extended a vein riddled hand and Talon shook it.

“You are a good man, Talon Windwalker,” he said as his body was taken by the wind like the ashes of an urn. “Be careful that power doesn’t change you,” came his voice on the breeze.

Talon thought about the man’s words as they sailed toward the setting moon. He knew they rang with truth. All the years of running, hiding, wishing he could fight back—all of it came rushing back when he fought with Kyrr and Chief at his side.

No,
he thought,
I’m not like that, I’m nothing like Captain McGillus. I’m nothing like Fylkin or the traitorous Vaka. I fight for something more than power. That is why Azzeal chose me.

He told himself so, but a nagging voice in his head told him he was lying. He turned his mind to other troubles. They would be hunted now. He didn’t know how long it would take for word of their escape to get out, and he was vague on his knowledge of sailing—how long it would take to reach Isladon and so forth. And all the while he sailed south, farther away from Akkeri. In the excitement of the rebellion he had forgotten all about her—a fact that disturbed him.

Surely she hadn’t forgotten about him.

Talon found what sleep he could there on the quarter deck. The wheelman ensured him he could handle the course, and even Brakk, who Talon had tasked with overseeing the feeding of all the former slaves, ensured him they would get on fine, but he was reluctant to return to his quarters.

The rising sun roused him from his sleep and he rose slowly, his every joint and muscle screaming in pain. The ring had its benefits, but dealing with the many injuries that went unnoticed whilst using it proved difficult.

He went with Torrance down to the mess hall and ate a heaping portion of gruel and ham. While they ate, Torrance gestured to him and grinned. “You haven’t asked me about your winnings.”

Talon shrugged. “I’m more concerned about your allegiance.”

Torrance seemed hurt. “What was I to do when they attacked Argath? I did the same as you. I waited. And when you came back I fought for our side. What else you want?”

“I’m sorry,” said Talon. He didn’t remember seeing Torrance fighting, but then things had been chaotic.

“Anyway,” he said, forlorn, “I bet all your winnings every fight. Was a bikkja to move that much gold, but I did. And you’re left with more than two-hundred, my cut being taken out of course.”

“Thanks, Torrance,” said Talon.

Around noon Argath returned to the deck and joined Talon at the bow as the ship sliced through the small waves, her sails full of the southerly winds. He put his weight on a sturdy, knotted cane, but his face shown only with pride and joy. He took a deep lungful of the air and exhaled slowly.

“Not many Skomm have ever smelled that,” he said.

“Smelled what?” asked Talon.

“Freedom.”

Talon smiled. He glanced at Chief, who sat near the rail scratching himself with his hind paw. Alert to Talon’s attention, the wolf strode forth with tail wagging, nudging him on the hand for a pet.

“Nothing ever smelled so sweet,” Talon concurred. “Listen, I don’t want to be captain of this ship. My road leads elsewhere. Besides, the men respect you. You should be captain.”

Argath put a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, Talon Windwalker.”

The night passed without incident, and Talon got what sleep he could in his quarters. He slept fitfully. The faces of those he had killed haunted his dreams, and he woke more than once thinking the Sea Queen was being boarded.

When morning came the mess hall was in chaos. The slaves were being held back by the gladiators, who insisted they go first. Talon suspected many of them were loyal to McGillus at heart. They still saw their people as inferior, and themselves, somehow superior. When one of the gladiators pushed Crag, sending him crashing to the floor, Talon snapped.

“Hey!” he screamed, and the entire room turned to regard him. “Leave him alone.” He walked over and helped Crag to his feet. “This man might seem simple to you, but he tossed nearly a dozen Agorans from this ship. He’s got every right to eat as you do.”

The man who had pushed him bowed his head. “Sorry, Windwalker.”

Talon took pause at the rare show of respect, but then raised his head high. They had every reason to respect him.

“Every Skomm here is equal,” he continued. “Pride, greed, cruelty…these are the things that got us here in the first place. If you can’t be good to your own people, you have no place on this feikin ship any longer.”

“Come on, keep the line movin’!” yelled the cook from the window. The Skomm—gladiator and slave alike—waited patiently in a neat line after that.

Crag stood towering next to Talon, staring down at him with a stupid grin.

Finally Talon gave in with a laugh and asked what he was looking at.

“Ain’t no one ever stuck up for me much before,” he said shyly.

Talon shrugged. “You’re good people, better than most. You deserve the same as anyone else.”

Crag nodded understanding, though Talon could see his wheels turning.

“You a smart man, ain’t you, Talon?”

“Compassion ain’t smart or stupid, it’s just right.”

“Yeah.” Crag nodded. “You a smart man.”

They met no resistance as they sailed south. If an Eldalonian ship was spotted, the crewmen called down from the crow’s nest and they steered wide. For many days they sailed south without incident, and when the Isladonian city of Del’Harred came into view, the crew rejoiced.

“We made it,” Talon mused as he stood with Chief and Argath at the helm.

Argath nodded. “You should be proud. You’ve done what no Skomm has done before.”

Talon gave him a dubious look. “The credit isn’t mine alone.”

Argath nodded stubbornly. “Well, a good portion is.”

“What will you do now?” Talon asked.

“If the tales are true, the Isladonians will take in the slaves and tend to ‘em better than we can. I intend to keep those who want to stay on. Once we sell some of the captain’s loot we’ll have enough supplies for the trip back to Volnoss.”

“Back to Volnoss?” Talon asked, perplexed.

“Of course. Like I said; I intend to buy as many Skomm as possible—show ‘em freedom. I’ll gather as many as Isladon will take. This was my father’s dream, and so it will be my life’s work. It’s…it’s the least I can do.”

Talon glanced at Argath, his eyes shimmering at the memory of his father. “He didn’t hold you responsible, you know.”

Argath turned away to stare out at the ocean.

“He said your mother’s death…it wasn’t your fault,” Talon added.

Argath’s head sagged and he shuddered a few times before raising his head and wiping his eyes. “You’re words are a gift,” he said, smiling.

They docked in the Del-Harred harbor and Argath led the landing party ashore while Talon stayed back with the others. They returned shortly before nightfall with good tidings that the former slaves would be taken in by the city.

In the morning those Skomm who’d decided to make a future in Isladon unloaded. Talon and Argath saw them all off as they loaded into rowboats. Many stopped to thank the mighty Windwalker and the fair Captain Argath, who accepted their thanks graciously.