Sea Queen (6 page)

“You’re bluffing,” said Talon. “I’ll let you take back your coins and fold. I don’t want to take all your money.”

The room had become silent as the other three watched.

“The bet stands,” said Tyson.

“Have it your way. I call.” Talon laid down his hand and said, “Four High Priests.”

Marcus gasped and Thorg giggled.

Tyson’s eyes widened and his brow shot high. “That’s a nice hand.”

Talon gave him a sympathetic smile and reached for the pot.

Tyson laid down his cards slowly. “But I’ve got a Royal Season.”

Talon’s heart dropped and he thought he might vomit. Tyson shook his head as he scooped all of Talon’s coins toward him.

“I tried to warn you by going to war,” said Tyson.

Marcus whistled long and Thorg groaned.

“You evil bikkja!” Windy yelled. “You had it the whole time and didn’t even bet your hand. You trapped him—give him back his money.”

Tyson laughed. “There ain’t no give-backs in
keep-‘em
.”

“Give it back!” she pressed.

Talon got up from his chair. “Don’t bother, Windy. I know how to lose like a man. Nice hand, Tyson.”

The smoke in the room was suddenly too thick to breathe. He went to the window to catch his breath and tried not to get sick. In the heat of the game, he had lost track of how much he’d drank. Now his head swam and the room seemed to teeter. He bid the others good night and stumbled across the room to the door, trying to keep his feet.

Windy took him by the arm. “I’ll help you.”

Marcus whistled and hooted and the other two followed suit.

“Consolation prize! Way to go, Talon!” Tyson jeered.

“You three are pathetic,” said Windy, before slamming the door.

She led Talon to the next room and helped him to the bed. The room spun and lurched like a keipr in strong waters.

“Here, drink as much water as you can,” she said, holding a cup to his mouth.

After he choked down as much as he could, she helped him out of his boots and pulled off his shirt.

“I wanted to thank you for freeing us.” She was giving him a strange smile.

“You’re welcome,” said Talon. He was unable to focus on her for too long, but thought he knew what she meant with her look and was relieved she didn’t press it any further.

He soon passed out, his dreams reminding him he was no closer to finding Akkeri.

The elf conjures a gale to fill small sails. I fear he angers god of wind, and cause him to send brother of high seas to crush us. These waters make me afraid. Them go on like the stars at night, make me feel small. I tell elf, stop angering gods, he smiles and laughs. Family of whales join us, fourth day, south, them sing with elf. I ain’t for knowing the words, long and sad, them give me tears. Night last I dream of blood. I see the boy chased by many men. I see again, man with golden tooth, him like chief of his own tribe, him with krellr standing behind. – Gretzen Spiritbone, 4997

“Wake up! Wake up!”

The voice ripped Talon from his deep sleep, and he sat up with a start. His head pounded, and his mouth tasted like whiskey flavored vomit. A fire raged from inside his belly all the way up his throat. “What’s going on?” he mumbled, trying to focus his eyes. A swift slap jerked his face to the side, and his head exploded with pain. “Feikinstafir!”

Windy handed him his pack. “There’s big trouble. Come on, we have to leave.”

“Trouble?” He looked to make sure he still had his ring. He rubbed it and reached for the timber wolf figurine in his pocket—it wasn’t there. Frantically he felt his other pocket, and then jumped out of bed and tore off the sheets.

“No, no, no, no,
no
!” he said under his breath.

“What is it?” Windy asked.

Talon turned a suspicious eye on her. “Where is it?”

She was confused. “Where’s what?”

“The timber wolf trinket. It’s a carving…looks just like Chief.”

“We got bigger problems than a godsdamned trinket right now. The slavers have found us. They got Marcus and Thorg outside as we speak.” She moved to peek out the door. “Those two morons got themselves caught. Won’t be no time before the slavers trace ‘em back to here.”

“Where’s Tyson?”

“He woke me up, told me what was happening, then he took off.” Her voice cracked as she tried to get a look out the window. “He says they’re beatin’ Thorg and Marcus real bad.”

Talon shouldered his pack and stormed into the next room.

Tyson’s sword was gone.

“Son of a bikkja!” he yelled and punched the wall.

He moved to the window and looked outside. The sun was just beginning to rise. He scanned the village and caught movement at the edge of town. He recognized Tyson, running down the road leading south.

“There he is! He’s making a run for it.”

“We should do the same,” said Windy. “They’ll be checking the—“

The door crashed open, and a wide shouldered man filled the doorway. “Well, what do we have here?” he said, in a low, menacing voice.

More men peered in from behind him.

“Leave us alone!” said Talon, putting himself in front of Windy. Kyrr flared to life, illuminating the dimly lit room, and the men’s eyes went wide in the glow.

Time seemed to slow down as Talon assessed the situation. He was suddenly extremely focused and aware, sensing great strength and speed at his disposal. He met their eyes with confidence and waited for the attack.

After a second or two, the initial awe of Kyrr’s display seemed to dissipate, as if the big man had convinced himself it was no more than some form of fancy trickery, and he advanced with new determination.

The approaching fist seemed to move slowly, dreamlike…and was stopped easily by Talon’s forearm. The small Skomm quickly hit the man square in the chin, sending him through the air and crashing into the others.

“Out of my way!” came a voice from the hall, and the men were shoved aside by a tall, lanky man wearing a cape—clearly their leader. He held a dagger in each hand, and a grin that told of his eagerness to draw blood. “You done messed up now, Skomm.”

Talon looked around frantically for a weapon, and his eyes fell on a chair. He snatched it up and charged, but his opponent sidestepped and slashed down with one of his blades.

Talon jumped back immediately, but the dagger still grazed his arm. The leader quickly advanced, but Talon fended him off with the chair.

He yelled to Windy and told her to go, but before she could even climb out the window, some of the captain’s cronies were already on their way down the hall to intercept her outside. Two remained behind, and they entered the room cautiously. One carried a club, the other a short sword.

“You lot killed an Agoran—did you think you would get away with it?” said the leader.

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Talon pleaded.

“Tell it to the hangman.” With that, the caped man attacked in a flurry of dagger strikes.

Talon, however, was the faster. He dodged to the side and tangled the man’s arms in the chair legs. A quick punch to the face laid him out as the other two came on with club and sword. Talon charged the man with the club and slammed him into the wall—so hard, his head cracked one of the long planks which spanned its length. He pulled hard and swung him to collide with the swordsman. The two collapsed in a heap, and Talon jumped on top, raining down blows that left them bloody.

Windy’s scream tore him away and he ran to the window. To his horror, he saw the beheaded bodies of both Marcus and Thorg lying in the street. Four men were trying to subdue Windy, but she fought like a bear.

Talon felt his strength swell once more and took a few steps back. He grabbed the daggers from his previous opponent and, with two quick steps, leapt out the window. He hit the first floor roof, and rolled off to land on the ground in a crouch.

“Leave her alone!” he bellowed.

The slaver search party numbered nearly a dozen, and they all carried weapons. The men Windy fought with finally subdued her and a blade was pressed up against her neck.

Just then, a well-dressed man on a black horse rode out from the alley behind them. Talon recognized the dragon scale boots immediately—
McGillus
.

He looked at Talon coldly. “Tell us where the other one is, and we’ll spare both your lives.”

Talon stood his ground. “We had nothing to do with the killing.”

“We’ve got half a dozen witnesses that say different. Tell us where the other one is.”

“Alright…hand her over and I’ll tell you.”

McGillus laughed and nodded to his cronies, who began to circle Talon. “I don’t think you understand what’s happening here,” he said. “The punishment for killing a Shierdonian in cold blood is death. You, my friend, are a condemned man. I offer you this last chance.” He glanced over his shoulder at an archer on a roof across the street.

Talon searched the other roofs and found two more, their arrows trained on him as well. McGillus smiled, confident in his victory.

Talon had to do something.

“Now, Chief!”

Tyson
? Talon whirled his head around in confusion.

A streak of blue mist shot across the rooftops and the archers screamed as they fell to the ground. Tyson ran out from one of the alleys, screaming, sword raised, and attacked one of McGillus’ men.

The world turned into a blur of action.

“Kill them all!” cried McGillus.

Kyrr shined brightly and time seemed to slow as Talon ran to help Windy. He dodged the men’s clumsy groping and late sword slashes with ease—but was not fast enough to stop the knife held to Windy’s throat.

Talon heard himself screaming as he slammed into the men who held her. They all went flying in a tumble of flailing limbs. He recovered and went to Windy’s side, trying in vain to stop the blood as it poured over his trembling hands.

Her eyes fluttered.

She was gone.

He looked up at the headless bodies of Marcus and Thorg, and something snapped within. He remembered standing over Fylkin after he’d knocked him out with the big wooden beam—how he should have finished him off.

Two men came at him suddenly, and he snatched up the daggers, lunging forward with incredible speed. He sent a sword slash wide and stabbed the wielder through the throat. The other man brought up his blade, but Talon’s well placed boot sent him flailing back, crashing through a wagon. He ducked a blow from another slaver, and stabbed him in the chest before spinning and burying both blades into yet another attacker. The man dropped his sword and Talon rolled to retrieve it. He came up in a twirl, slashing and hacking, and together with Chief and Tyson, took down the remaining slavers.

Panting, his heart knocking in his chest, Talon held the bloody blade before him. Something like a dream overcame him. His head spun and his mind screamed. Tossing the blade aside in disgust, he looked at the dead men laying in the street. A small crowd of villagers was gathering, and in the distance a bell tolled. Tyson was rummaging through the dead men’s clothes, collecting coin purses. He retrieved Marcus’ coins as well—those that he had lost to the man in cards the night before.

“Come on! That bell is a call to the Shierdonian guard,” said Tyson.

Talon grabbed him by the arm and held him firm. “Give me the trinket.”

Tyson handed it over with a shrug and started out of town at a run.

“Come on, Chief,” said Talon.

As soon as they were out of the village, a great commotion rose up and calls to the guard rang out. He remembered that he hadn’t seen McGillus anywhere when the fighting stopped. At some point in the battle he must have slipped away, likely back to the slaver. He would be hunting them now with renewed vigor. Talon began to regret ever meeting Tyson.

They ran for an hour to the west, through the forests and fields along the coast. Talon hated not checking the shore as he passed, but they had to put some miles behind them. Finally Tyson stopped to catch his breath. He tipped back a water skin he had taken from a dead man and drank greedily. Talon stalked over to him and slapped the container out of his mouth.

“Hey! What the—“Tyson began, but Talon punched him in the face, knocking him down.

“What the feikinstafir happened back there?” Talon screamed. “You got them all killed!”

Tyson put up defensive hands as Talon came at him again. “Those two idiots got themselves killed. They went into town boozing after I fell asleep. They got found out all on their own.”

“You stole my figurine!”

“I tried to wake you up when the commotion started, but you were out cold. I seen how you controlled the wolf with the trinket—so yeah, I took it. I was trying to help.”

Talon loomed over him, wanting to kill. “You’re a no good liar. I saw you out the window, running away!”

Tyson leapt to his feet and got in Talon’s face, standing a good foot over him. “Yeah I ran. And I came back, didn’t I? I went downstairs and found that the slavers were beating Marcus and Thorg in the street. You wouldn’t wake up so I took the trinket knowing that Chief could help…I didn’t know what to do so I ran.” He stared at Talon, who glared back. “Go ahead hit me again, but that ain’t gonna change anything. Marcus and Thorg screwed up. But at least we killed those godsdamned slavers!”

Talon turned from him and slumped down against a tree. The realization struck him. “I killed five men,” he said to Tyson as much as himself.

“They got what they deserved.”

“I’m not a killer—what we did was wrong.”

Tyson sat next to him, nursing his split lip. “You ain’t a killer, eh? Coulda fooled me, the way you sliced those men up back there. You’re a born killer if I ever seen one.”

Talon covered Kyrr with his hand, and Chief trotted over to him for a scratch behind the ears. “What we did was wrong,” he said again.

“Listen to me, Talon, those men were slavers. They think it’s alright to enslave other people, beat ‘em when they see fit, rape the women as they please…It was self-defense. We did what every Skomm should do. The real sin is in doing nothing. When evil men do evil things to good people, those that stand by and watch ain’t no better.”

Tyson’s words rang with truth but they did nothing to make Talon feel any better. He couldn’t get the men’s dying faces out of his mind. What had been their names? Were they truly evil men? Did they have families who would miss them?

Talon suddenly became sick.

When the heaves passed, he gave a groan and sat back against the tree, taking a drink from his water skin.

Tyson watched him.

“They…they killed Windy,” Talon said, remembering the look on her face. “I wasn’t fast enough.”

“There’ll be time for lamenting later. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but we got to worry about ourselves right now. The dead will still be dead when we’re safe.”

Talon scowled at him.

Tyson ignored the sentiment. “So what’s our next move?”

“
My
next move is going back to searching for Akkeri. I don’t give a good godsdamn what you do.”

He got up to leave but Tyson jumped to his feet and blocked the way. “We’ve got to stick together,” he insisted.

“Get out of my way!” Talon snapped.

He stepped aside and Talon walked toward the coast.

Tyson called after him, “McGillus got away, you know. And now soldiers will be after us as well!”