Winds of Torsham (The Kohrinju Tai Saga Book 2)

by J P Nelson

  Dessi thought to himself, ‘these must not be the kind that heal fast … but they are bad enough as is.’

  His tunnel only travelled another sixty feet, then opened up twenty-five feet, give or take, from the lagoon. Sixty feet away he saw the Waddles where they had secured her to stake.

  Thankfully there was not a lot of wind among the walls. He glanced around the honeycomb effect and saw his object of interest. Off to the other side was an opening just a few feet from the lagoon’s surface. He needed to regroup. So far he did not know what kind of shape he was in, and that was important.

  Other than a bad headache, probably a concussion, he could not tell that he was injured. To be of any use to the team, he also needed some energy, which meant food and water. Then he could go up and scout.

  Dessi dove into the water and made quick time to Waddles. He immediately grabbed a blanket, dried, then paddled to the low tunnel.

  Inside, he built a small fire and relished in the heat while making a soup from water and crushed Sean Dodgers. He had his soup, then wrapped in thick blankets and leaned back and closed his eyes, his mind going over all details as he made plans.

  After a time, Dessi got up, breathed in deep of the clean air, and walked to the edge overlooking the lagoon. It was pretty. Casually, he looked up to see the sun glittering against the cliff top. Suddenly two figures … no, three … one broke apart into one smaller and one larger figure … hurtled over the edge … what the …?

  Startled, by reflex the Marine stepped into a ready-fight posture. He watched as the figure in the middle, a human, did three perfect backward somersaults and straightened out into a long dive … Seedle … on either side of him was a large beast-like creature floundering in the air.

  The hair stood on Dessi’s neck; those must belong to the creature tracks they had seen. Had one been biting Seedle as they went over?

  Dessi exclaimed, “You crazy, damned, son-or’a-jym …”

  No time for emotion, Dessi dropped his blanket and readied to dive, knowing in his heart there was a one-in-a-million shot anything could survive that fall.

  The creatures’ yells could be heard, and when they hit … well … it was a splattering splash. Death yelps not unlike a canine’s echoed through the lagoon. But Seedle’s entry was with grace and beauty.

  Dessi hit the water only an instant after with the thought, ‘Could he have actually survived?’

  In short order he found his friend, drifting under the cold surface. Dessi felt the swirling current underneath, actually warm, as the vortex seemed to help push them up. Grabbing Seedle, he noticed the stain growing from his inner thigh. Quickly towing him to the opening, he got him first into the Waddles, then the tunnel.

  Seedle was limp and Dessi saw no sign of breath as he drug him inside, speaking anxiously, “Come on, man, do not quit now. Fight with me, sailor, fight … make that fist … swing …”

  Dessi marveled at his attire of only long-handles and leggings, even his feet were bare, torn and ugly. What was he trying to do? He saw the blood still coming from the leg as he tried to assess as quickly as he could. Reaching for the leg wound, he applied pressure, but instinctively knew the artery had been nicked. If it had been cleanly severed the man would have already bled out.

  Yelling at the still unresponsive man, “Hang in there … hang---”

  Dessi saw the little pouch that held Seedle’s talisman. Just what could it be? Could it help? He grabbed the pouch and was surprised at the feel of it. It was tied and knotted by a cord and attached to Seedle’s belt. Dessi seized it and tried to yank it loose with the one hand. No luck. He let go pressure on the wound, the blood was oozing through his fingers anyway, grabbing his dirk he sliced the pouch neck and dumped a small, one ounce vial of deep dark red liquid into his hand.

  This was his secret luck? Shit! There was nothing to loose. Dessi broke the seal, tilted Seedle’s head back, with his teeth pulled the small cap and spit it out, then slowly poured the syrupy liquid into his mouth saying, “Penguins, buddy, penguins …”

  Seedle was not swallowing.

  Dessi yelled and rubbed Seedle’s throat, “Swallow, damn it!”

  It still was not going down. Only one way he could think of, Dessi grasped his nose, set the head and clamped down for mouth to mouth resuscitation and blew hard, then again. Did it go? He looked down to the leg. The blood had stopped. Was he … was he gone?

  “Damn it! Shit! Son of a …”

  Dessi suddenly felt incredibly light-headed. He was trying to do cardio pulmonary resuscitation, but then everything around him seemed to spin sideways at awkward angles. It was like when Jade slipped that hallucinogenic Tera Juice in his drink that time.

  She told him, ‘You and mom are the only people in my life who do not get high or drunk. If you want me you need to float.’

  He could still remember the shock on her face when he said, ‘No thanks, good bye. You are not worth it.’

  He fell back and tried to steady himself, he was reeling, everything was twisting in and out … for a couple moments.

  Then Seedle’s body convulsed. His left hand twitched and popped, his right clenched tightly in spasm, then released. Seedle wrenched and writhed like a thrashing serpent for a moment, then on his right side he coughed violently, then sneezed hard four times.

  Dessi shook his head and contemplated on a moment’s sensation of euphoria. The headache was gone and he suddenly felt good. But what was that nasty taste in his mouth?

  Seedle leaned on his side, his expression one of shock as he gazed around confused.

  Dessi grabbed a blanket and draped it around Seedle’s shoulders while declaring, “Now I know why it is you rely on penguins.”

  “Huh? What did you say …?”

  Dessi laughed, “Let us get you next to the fire.”

  “Wha-what happened … where am I?” Trying to comprehend, Seedle looked at Dessi and tried to focus, “I thought … you …”

  “Relax, Seed. We are going to be fine.”

  Dessi wanted to check that hamstring wound, “Hold still.”

  “What!? Hey …” Seedle twitched weakly, “… what are you---”

  “Easy … you had a bad gash.”

  Seedle watched skeptically. Dessi gingerly fingered open the tear in the leggings. Shaking his head in pleased amazement, he looked into Seedle’s incredulous face, “Wow, man. It is gone. And the scar upon your face … How do you feel?”

  Seedle thought about it, then looked at his hands, flexed them, and with a perplexed breath of a laugh said, “I do not know … I … I … except for feeling exhausted … I feel … I feel great.”

  Dessi licked the inside of his cheeks, that taste was nasty.

  Seedle lapped his tongue against his lips, then said, “My mouth tastes like shit. I-I-I dreamed a walrus coughed inside my mouth …”

  Dessi glared at him for a moment, then saw the still confused look on Seedle’s face. The Marine blew a short laugh.

  Seedle looked at him, “What is so funny …”

  Dessi shook his head, “Nothing, nothing at all.”

  Seedle absently reached down and felt for his good luck piece, then became alarmed when he found the pouch top cut.

  Dessi nodded, “It saved your life. All this time, you have been carrying around a magic potion.”

  “A magic potion?”

  “Yes, a magic potion. You said your mam-maw gave it to you?”

  Seedle was rubbing his head in overall wonderment, “Yeah.”

  “Any idea where she got it?”

  Seedle stared blankly, “No idea.”

  Looking out the front, then back to Seedle, Dessi said, “I thought you were gone, mate. I am going to fix you some soup, then you need to rest. You may be put back together, but you lost a lot of blood. We need to get you---”

  “We still got to---”

  Dessi had his hand up, “No. What is done is done. We are going to get something in your belly, then I am going up topside to
do a little recon. After you eat and rest a bit, we can talk about it.”

  “You are not going to the east side, are you? I do not think there is anything there. The Arnold went under the ice like you did. Took everything with it, I think.”

  “No, just up there,” Dessi nodded to the cliff, “I want to salvage what is useful … and there is a sword I want if it is still up there.”

  Seedle felt a pocket on the side of his leggings. With a grin he slowly pulled out Dessi’s flask, seemed to study it for a long time, and then took a swig. Savoring the taste as if it were nectar, he took another good pull. Handing it to his friend he said, “Penguins?”

  Dessi took it and held it a moment, then answered with a warm smile, “Yes, to penguins,” then he took a couple long pulls of his own of the Avalon Brandy. It was cold away from their fire, what to do next was not clear, but they had supplies, a boat, and they were alive.

  Chapter 62

  ONE HUNDRED AND thirteen men were recruited to board the Qua’Korr out of Sterine. All but one of these was hired as men-at-arms. His name was Tammin and he billed himself as a Master of Alteration.

  When he presented himself to Albri at the dock where Qua’Korr was tied, the scientist was not impressed, which surprised Tammin, especially when Albri remarked, “In other words, you for the most part do illusions.”

  Before the man could answer, Gordi stepped around and said, “Ah, Tammin the Alterer … I heard a’you.” Looking to Albri he added, “He’ll do …” then he glared at the man and his voice got rough, “… as long as he keeps his hands in his pockets!”

  Tammin was tall, thin, stooped, clothes dirty and unkempt, with stringy long brown hair and a three-day growth on his face. His speech was characterized with a slow, drawling, harsh accent as he spoke with all innocence, “I do not know vat you cou’d mean.”

  Gordi crossed his arms, “Brie, listen to him roll those v’s and flatten them w’s, he’s from Genoa. Nothing good comes from Genoa. Ten to one says he’s running from law somewhere.”

  Tammin was still innocent sounding, “I am hard vorker, making to try make moneys to raise many son and daughter.”

  Albri asked, “Can you swing a sword?”

  “This I can do.”

  Gordi asked, “Are you any good at it?”

  The man shrugged and rolled his chin, “I can, vat you say, ho’d my, my …”

  Gordi offered, “Hold your own?”

  “Yes, this is vord.”

  Albri looked up at Tammin square in the eye and said bluntly, “I advertised need for warriors for likely engagements in a search and rescue mission, possibly about the Pel’Fynqiuah Peninsula. We cast off in the morning. I am tired, sir, and have no time for games. What good could you be?”

  “I make good in other vay …” he wiggled his fingers and twitched one eye, then the other, “I am wery good vith make change of thing.”

  Albri asked, “Have you training with anyone of good report?”

  “I make train vith N’Ugarr the Great One.”

  Albri and Gordi looked at each other, then back to the man, then Gordi said, “We knew him.”

  “He is good man.”

  Albri said, “He was an elf …”

  “He is good man, e’f-f-f.”

  Mahrufael walked up and added, “… and he is passed on.”

  “He vas good man, e’f-f-f.”

  Albri asked incredulously, “How long did you train with him?”

  “For a time.”

  Gordi said, “We knew him well.”

  “It vas much time ago.”

  Albri said, “We knew him very well.”

  “Ven I vas a poy.”

  Albri was frustrated, “Show me something, damn-it … no illusions, either. This man,” he nodded to Gordi, “can feel through them, this man,” he nodded to Mahrufael, “can see through them.”

  Gordi glanced to Albri with an eye raised, almost amused, almost, but not quite, he had seen mild-mannered Albri angry before.

  Fhascully, Kravieu, Klaus and Feila all walked up to see what was going on. Tammin raised a palm toward Fhascully, then pointed to a nearby crew member, then flashed his hand at a piece of wood.

  A bit of blue sparkle and a slight crack in Fhascully’s glasses suddenly repaired, the crewman’s leather belt unbuckled, and the wood shriveled into a piece of charcoal without any smoke.

  They all looked at each other and Albri’s eyebrow raised, “Not bad, not bad at all.”

  With a look that suggested he was entertaining a crowd, Tammin turned his back on them, walked to the pier’s edge, grabbed a gaff hook, flipped it end over end, then tossed it into the water. Looking to the group with his jaw hanging half open and his head tilted, he looked where the hook sunk below and with a wrench of his wrist he snapped his fingers.

  He turned back, walked past Albri and looked at the sky as he said, “It is good you get it pefore it sink again.”

  They looked, and sure enough, the metal tool rose to the surface. Gordi did his own thing and reached out his hand. Tammin turned to see, and his own eyebrow raised when the hook levitated up from the water and floated to the man’s hand.

  Gordi shook the water off and looked to Albri, “Nope, no illusions here. Your call …”

  Albri asked the man, “Books?”

  Tammin tarried his answer and gazed full upon Mahrufael. One who knew and understood could see the contemplation of challenge, but it did not come. Also, Tammin glanced to the ship’s bow where U’Lahna was talking with Ervis.

  He answered by pointing to his temple accompanied with a shake of his head, then pointing center of his chest saying, “My power is inside my sou’.”

  Albri said, “Good enough.” He indicated Feila, “You talk to her, she is the head of combat. She needs to know what you can do. If that is a problem, do not step on board.”

  Albri started walking away while speaking to Gordi in low tones, “That gives us one hundred and twelve hired blades, and eight manifestors of varying natures; a …” he indicated U’Lahna, “… whatever she is, a field cleric, elvin doblé wizard, I am guessing Tammin is some kind of sorcerer, you-the-telekinetic, that girl who eats magic and the mentahk.”

  Gordi was caught off guard as he walked beside Albri, “Huh? What? Did you say we had a mentahk? We got a mentahk and you didn’t tell me?”

  “I did not?”

  “No, you didn’t!”

  “Oh. Gordi, we have a mentahk.”

  They walked away as Fhascully asked Mahrufael, “What exactly is a mentahk?”

  Mahrufael squinted his forehead together, “That, my friend, is a good question.”

  ___________________________

  Seedle awakened to a roaring fire. How long had he been asleep? Dessi had been above and collected everything and anything of value. Over to the side was a pile of troll clubs, which they were using for fuel.

  Dessi was squatted over two good-sized fish broiling, Sean Dodgers heating in a pan and a pot of strong tea. He glanced to Seedle with comment, “Boy, when you sleep, you sleep. You were right, some big fish in here, and not too hard to catch.”

  “How long …”

  “More than a day. You hungry?”

  Seedle wiped his face and said, “Yeah, but more thirsty than anything.”

  Seedle could remember them talking it all out.

  He felt so-o-o tired. The vial was obviously magical. He had heard of potions of healing. It was convenient his mam-maw had found it to give him, of all her grandchildren. He was wondering about that.

  Dessi dished out some chow for Seedle and offered it to him while saying, “There are clothes for you, boots, a coat, I even washed out some socks for you.”

  “Gee, thanks …”

  “There is a leather body armor, I retrieved the sword I told you about, two Vedoan Dirks, a hand sickle, three bola, one crossbow and fourteen bolts … there is a crude machete from one of the trolls---”

  Seedle pointed, “What is that?�
��

  “I do not know. I think it is a wizard staff of some kind. It is what that one was aiming at you with … I think he was aiming it. Over there is his side bag and a belt with a pouch. I have not looked inside. And over there is a wave-blade dagger he wore.”

  They both ate in silence. Neither asked what they were to do next. It was already understood. They were men of honor and duty. Seedle had fulfilled his mission as best as he could. He made sure the pack got beyond the ice barrier, now it was in the hands of Caroll and Telroy.

  Seedle said, “Well, you are the survival expert …”

  “I figure the trolls think us dead or gone. That will give us an edge. We have supplies, the Waddles, we could hit the river in a couple days. There may be something usable in the wreck … if we could get around behind and figure what has happened, we could throw a tool in their gears.”

  “It would be nice if one of those flying things were left, only how would we make it work? You think they will let them in, do the bottleneck and trap strategy?”

  “It will be a last ditch effort. I told Corad to keep his eye on the commodore. Seed, I do not think they are yet finished, we have some hardy boys in that group. Every man will die hard.”

  They were quiet again.

  “Dee … do you really think the old captain taught that troll how to fence?”

  The Marine nodded, “I do not see any other way. That troll was skilled, mind you.”

  Seedle walked over to the long, gnarled stick and picked it up. As he held it, it felt strangely warm. Then a tingly feeling went through him and he inhaled with exclamation.

  Dessi was alarmed, “What is wrong?”

  “I … I do not know.”

  Seedle felt a rush in his body, a powerful, almost erotic feeling … like the time he held back more than three hours with that woman, Loretta. The explosion he felt, it was like he could not quit … he should not be thinking about such right now. Something, something in the staff wanted out and it wanted him to release it …

  He … he … could not hold it … the staff was pointed at the edge of the tunnel and … Seedle felt as if he had had an orgasm through his hand … into the staff … out the head …