Sea Queen (8 page)

His gifts will catch many eyes and tempt weak hearts. –Gretzen Spiritbone, 4992

They hung the deer, using Talon’s rope, and made the trek to the nearest trees. After five trips with armfuls of deadwood, they started a fire near the entrance to the cave. Talon fashioned a torch and went about searching the vast cavern. What he found astounded him. Upon the walls were murals of elaborate artwork. He was overcome with a strong foreboding as he recognized one of the scenes upon the walls—a boy and a wolf pup watching a girl with a red ribbon, standing alone in a snowy field. His mouth went dry. “Bring another torch!” he yelled to Tyson.

Tyson hurried over. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a
krellr
.”

Talon noticed another mural and gasped at what he saw. “It can’t be…”

The mural depicted a woman on her deathbed, her skin discolored with the sickness. In another, a boy played in a field with a wolf pup. There was one with the boy standing well under the
Miotvidr
stick—all around him, giants laughed and pointed. The next showed him being nursed to health by the girl with flowing red locks…

Talon fell to his knees, stunned. He stared at the mural of his mother—he had never seen her before.

“Feikinstafir, Talon! You’ve got to see this one.”

Talon was dizzy. What did all this mean? Why was his life depicted here on these cave walls? He made his way to Tyson and stared, wide eyed.

“Now, that is the strangest shyte I have ever seen in my gods forsaken life,” said Tyson.

The wall portrayed the two of them looking up at a picture of themselves, looking up at a picture of themselves.

“What the hells is going on here, Talon?”

“I’ve no idea.

Chief barked and they both jumped with a start.

“What is it, Chief?” Talon asked, his voice shaky.

Chief was on his hind legs waging his tail and staring up at the wall. Talon raised the torch and tears welled in his eyes. Tyson came up beside him and patted him on the shoulder.

“She was here,” said Talon.

The painting showed a weary looking Akkeri sitting in the cave, holding herself as though she were cold. A smeared handprint of wood ash had been placed beside her picture—Akkeri’s handprint? Talon raised his own hand and pressed against it, shuddering.

“Akkeri!” his tortured voice echoed throughout the dark cave. He had to scream or else fall apart.

“Is she here somewhere, Chief? Can you smell her?” asked Tyson, but Chief only lowered his head and stopped wagging his tail.

Talon wiped his eyes, angry at his tears, and scoured the walls for more information. “Why wouldn’t she just wait for me if she found the picture of…”

Talon’s voice trailed off as he found another mural. This one depicted a group of rugged looking sailors standing at the mouth of the cave—McGillus among them. Beyond him, out on the open waters, sat the big slave ship.

“Godsdamnit! She’s been on the slaver the whole time,” Talon yelled. He kicked a nearby stone and pain shot through his big toe, but he ignored it. “You were on the slaver—you never saw her?”

Tyson shook his head. “Sorry. Like Thorg said, you can hardly tell who you’re pissin’ on.”

“Which direction was the ship headed?”

“Hard to tell. When we were sold by the Vald they put us below deck right off. Which way we sailed from the island was hard to know.”

“How long were you at sea?”

Tyson thought for a moment. “Not long, the journey lasted about a day or so. After the ship stopped moving, we sat in that hole for a few more before they brought some of us up on deck and then to an auction. It was the village where you found us.”

Talon realized that if Akkeri was found out, she might well have been returned to the Vald.

Tyson seemed to know his mind. “I doubt anyone would’ve known who she was. Timberwolf Tribe don’t sell their Skomm the same time my tribe does. The slaver came and went miles from your village.”

Talon was grateful for his reassuring words. Still, an annoying flicker of doubt remained. If Fylkin somehow found out about her being on the slaver…

He couldn’t think that way. “Alright,” he said, trying to clear his head. “What kind of people are women like her sold to?”

Tyson shrugged. “I’m not an expert on slaving just ‘cause I was on a ship for a day. But I would guess that a looker would be sold to…to the pleasure houses, or to someone with a lot of coinage. A…whatever it is they call such people ‘round these lands.”

“A nobleman,” Talon said, liking that possibility much better than pleasure house.

They went on to search the rest of the cave. The main cavern split off in three different directions. As Tyson went right, Talon took the middle and soon came across depictions of him and Akkeri gathering apothecary supplies, Vaka Brekken’s death, and the explosion at the mines. The tunnel opened into another wide cavern, and there the paintings ceased—but for one. Maneuvering among the stalactites, Talon raised his torch to the last painting and sucked in his breath.

Tyson walked in behind him. “What did you find? Anything?”

Talon whirled around. “Nothing much. You find anything new?”

Tyson glanced at him suspiciously. “What is it?”

Talon laughed and pointed back toward the entrance. “Nothing. Let’s go check that other—“

Tyson tried to inspect whatever Talon had been looking at, but Talon blocked the way.

“Move,” said Tyson.

Talon shook his head and stood his ground. “You don’t need to see it.”

“Get the hells out of my way,” said Tyson, pushing past. When his torchlight fell upon the painting, he froze. “Why would you try to keep this from me?”

“It doesn’t mean nothing. It might not happen.”

The painting depicted Talon kneeling by a bloody Tyson, closing his eyes with two fingers.

Chief came padding into the cavern, and he too stared at the painting. He licked Tyson’s hand and whimpered.

“I feel the same way, Chief,” he said, petting his head.

“This doesn’t mean it’s going to happen,” Talon said again.

Tyson offered him a smile that said,
Thanks for that, but you’re full of shyte
. He turned from the painting and left the cavern.

Talon followed him through the main chamber and into the last tunnel. This one too had depictions of his life in Volnoss. Scenes he didn’t recognize were there as well. In one, Talon was fighting a big man in a sand pit surrounded by screaming onlookers. In another, he was sitting, watching a sunset with a huge man who looked to be Vald. Their backs were to him, however, so he couldn’t see the man’s face.

“Most of these are in the past, right? But others, like the one that shows me dead, are the future.”

“
Possible
future,” said Talon.

“Sure. Well I think this one is the future, unless you’re friends with a silver hawk.”

Confused by his words, Talon hurried to see what he meant. This one showed Talon standing in a field beside a hawk three times his size. From across a field, Akkeri ran to him with arms wide, a big smile spread across her face. The tears streaming down her cheeks were formed by shining minerals in the stone rather than paint.

“It looks like you’ll find her after all,” said Tyson.

“This isn’t set in stone,” Talon said, but then realized his choice of words. “I mean, no future is certain. We can stop that from happening.”

Tyson was skeptical. “How?”

Talon bowed his head as the realization occurred to him. “We should split up…forever. If we aren’t together, I can’t be around when you die.”

Tyson nodded, conceding the point. “True, but I can still die all the same.”

“We’re
all
going to die. But if we aren’t near each other, at least you won’t die like that.”

They returned to the fire and found it nearly burnt out. Tyson added dried wood and stoked up a roaring blaze as Talon went to skinning the deer with his knife. When the work was done, Tyson quartered it with his sword, and Talon cut fine venison steaks. Chief sat by the fire, contently gnawing on one of the thigh bones.

Tyson left the cave to gather greenwood for smoking the venison after instructing Talon on how to build a stone cooker. Chief watched with a lazy grin as his master gathered the right sized stones.

“Go on and look out for Tyson. We still got men after us,” said Talon.

Chief barked twice and swirled around before shooting through the roof of the cave.

By the time Talon was finished with the cooker, Tyson had returned with Chief in tow and a big bundle of green branches and leaves.

In his mouth, Chief too carried a small bundle wrapped with rope.

“Thanks for sending Chief out with me,” said Tyson. He threw the branches on the ground. “I appreciate it.”

Talon offered him a nod.

“Alright. Good job on the smoker—that’ll do just fine.”

With a piece of bark, Tyson scooped up a big pile of coals from the bottom of the fire and placed them in the cooker. He then sat down and went to work weaving what could have been the bottom of a basket out of green, vine-like branches.

Talon sat and watched, intrigued. He had seen meat smoked before, but his amma did things a little bit differently.

Tyson finished his work and placed a handful of green branches across the open top of the smoker. He then laid the weaving over the branches and secured it all in place with a few stones. He nodded to one of the thick pieces of shale which the meat was laid out on, and Talon brought it to him. He carefully arranged it atop the weaving, and then stuffed a handful of green foliage on top of the coals. Instantly a thick grey smoke snaked its way up through the weaving. “We’ll leave this batch half the night and then start another.”

They settled in and got comfortable around the fire, eating meat they had skewered earlier. The venison was tender and delicious, and reminded Talon just how hungry he had been. His appetite was incredible. He ate five of the steaks to Tyson’s three—even though the other Skomm was a good foot taller than him—and they sat back drinking from their water skins. From his pack Tyson took a pipe and stoked it with a burning branch. The sweet aroma of cherry pipe smoke floated lazily.

Tyson laughed to himself, shaking his head.

“What?” Talon asked.

“What kind of life you must live. Who in the hells are you anyway?”

Talon shrugged. “I’m just a Skomm, like you.”

That received a belly laugh.

“Just a Skomm like me, eh?” Tyson mused. “Just a Skomm with a mystical ghost wolf and a magic ring. And cave paintings dedicated to his life in another country…”

“Well, when you put it like that...” He wanted to tell Tyson all about Azzeal and his amma Gretzen’s mystical powers, but he still didn’t trust him—he doubted he ever would.

The cave paintings, he could not explain. He wondered if they were possibly drawn by Azzeal. It was the only explanation that made sense.

“You’re not going to tell me are you?” Tyson pressed.

“Not much to tell. I was born during the frozen plague. My mother died giving birth to me. I was premature and too small for my father’s liking. My amma raised me. I failed the measure and was sent to Skomm village.”

Tyson stared expectantly. “
And
…What about Chief…and the ring? Who the hells painted these walls?”

Talon sighed.
What harm is there in the truth
?

“Chief was a gift from my amma. She saved him from a hunter’s blade. He was killed the night I tried to escape…so was Jahsin. And Akkeri was swept out to sea by the Eye of Thodin.”

“That was a bad storm—my part of Skomm village was leveled,” said Tyson.

“I was taken prisoner by the timber wolf Chiefson, as good as dead, but I was saved by an elf.”

Tyson stared at him. “An
elf
? Right. If you don’t want to tell me just say so.”

“It’s the truth,” said Talon. “He’s the one who gave me the ring.”

Tyson studied his eyes for a moment. “You’re serious aren’t you?”

Talon nodded.

Tyson shook his head. “Thodin’s hairy arse…An elf. Why not? Fits right in with all the crazy shyte I’ve seen since meeting you.”

“After he saved me, my amma gave me a piece of bone to carve Chief out of. She trapped his spirit in the figurine somehow. As for who painted these pictures, I can only guess it was the elf. Maybe he was here years ago or something. I take it he travels a lot—he said he was in Volnoss to study our plants and animals.”

“Your amma some kind of shaman or something?” Tyson asked.

Talon nodded and reached for another piece of meat. “She is. I never took her seriously, not until she captured Chief’s spirit in the trinket.”

Tyson stared at Chief, mesmerized. “Can you imagine what is possible with a pet like him? You use him to hunt and as a lookout, but imagine—between him and the ring, you could do incredible things.”