Talon crawled to Jahsin’s side, joined by Akkeri. He gingerly turned his friend over and Akkeri wiped the snow from his face. Talon’s heart sank when he saw the way Jahsin’s head lolled.
“Jahsin, wake up, wake up!” Talon began to shake him.
Akkeri’s hands stopped him, “Look,” she said, pointing toward the bubbles of blood in his nostrils growing and retracting as he breathed.
Talon sighed with relief and Jahsin groaned in pain. His head rolled back and forth and his eyes opened groggily. As awareness hit him, he jolted and scrambled back from the two.
“Relax, Jah; it’s over now,” Talon promised.
“Over?” his friend asked, holding the side of his face. “Then how the Feikinstafir you still alive?”
Majhree had been watching from the crowd; she shuffled over, regarding them with a sideways glance, bent as she was. “Best you three get gone and quick; c’mon!”
Talon helped his friend up, and together with Akkeri, they followed Majhree to her house of healing. Talon and Jahsin were led to beds opposite each other and Majhree went on to inspect Akkeri’s face. She clicked her tongue and shook her head.
“I done seen it all, girl; what kind of fool thing you do?”
“It worked,” Akkeri replied.
“And you’re lucky it worked; don’t pretend like you planned the whole thing,” said Majhree, turning Akkeri’s head to the side none too gently. The girl shrugged and regarded Talon with a mischievous grin.
Had she planned it all, he wondered.
“Let’s see where the whip really hit you,” Majhree said, searching her person.
“Here,” Akkeri showed her, indicating a spot near her shoulder.
“You clever, clever girl.” Majhree could not help but laugh.
She went to tending to Akkeri’s face and turned on Talon and Jahsin with an angry eye. “What you two have to say for yourselves?”
They shared a glance, not quite knowing what to say.
“That’s right, nothing, ’cause there ain’t no excuse for stupid,” she said, glowering.
The two boys lowered their heads in shame, “yes, ma’am.”
“I’m sorry, Majhree,” Talon confessed.
“You right you are! Next time a Vaka raises his hand to you, you best be standin’ still. Anybody with two good ears best listen! You nearly got yourself and your friends killed tonight. A miracle they don’t come for you still.”
Dread crept over Talon and Majhree saw it on his face. “Ah, but I care too much,” she sighed.
She finished up Akkeri and sent her on her way, but the girl moved past her rather than to the door. “I’m helping,” she said and came to Talon’s side. She began to help him out of his clothes, having to wet the coarse fabric to peel it from the dried, dirty wounds. Talon shuddered with pain and his head spun as she gently pulled the fabric from his wounds; he was convinced the skin had gone with it. When finally he was down to his underclothes, Akkeri and Majhree began to pour strong whiskey over the wounds. Jahsin put a stick wrapped in leather in Talon’s mouth for him to bite on and offered a strong hand to squeeze.
Talon passed out long before the work was through.
He awoke the next day and the pain came rushing back to him. He shuddered beneath his coverings and gained control of the pain. Akkeri was there with a damp cloth once again, and Talon thanked the gods for the whipping if it meant he could see her again.
“Good afternoon,” she smiled as she gently blotted his forehead.
“Hi,” Talon replied, his cheeks and ears suddenly burning.
“You were very brave last night,” she said.
“Majhree thought I was stupid,” Talon laughed but soon regretted it as he was reminded of the heavy boot to his gut.
Akkeri laughed in a voice like music—music that Talon wanted to hear for the rest of his life.
“I didn’t say smart; brave isn’t always the smartest choice,” she said.
“What about you? Why did you risk your life for me last night? Did you really plan the whole thing?” Talon asked.
Akkeri grinned mischievously and her raised brow hinted of diabolical genius. “No,” she finally admitted. “I just couldn’t bear to watch you being hurt so.”
“Why?” he asked, “You hardly know me.”
“You didn’t know the old man at the mines,” she retorted.
“How did you hear about that?”
“Word travels fast in the village,” she shrugged. “Not every day someone stands up around here. If they do they are quick to the ground.”
She turned and soaked the cloth once more. “Why did you keep the red ribbon all this time?”
The question made Talon turn away nervously. Why had he kept the ribbon?
In an instant, all of the words rushed to Talon’s head that he knew he could not say: Because it smelled of your hair, like snow lilies in the clear crisp air of a moonlit night. Because you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. You remind me that there is more to this world than violence, hate, and death. Because…I love you.
“I don’t know…I thought you might want it,” he stammered instead, wishing he could tell her how he felt. She smiled at him as though she had read his thoughts.
The mention of the red ribbon had brought Talon’s thoughts back through time, to the night before they had met, when the Vald had killed the two lovers.
“Who were they?” he asked.
Akkeri didn’t ask who he meant; her face shone with understanding and sadness.
“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s all right,” Akkeri breathed. “She was my Systir, Feather. She had gained the eye of Vaka Brekken when she was fifteen; he put a baby in her belly. Of course he would not admit such a thing to the Vald, and named her friend Arri as the father. Feather begged Arri to stay out of it, to save himself, but of course he would not. They loved each other so…”
Tears pooled in her eyes, and Talon wished he could take her pain away and make it his own. He understood now why she had risked showing Brekken the small blade as he knelt dying.
“I was oft sick when I was young, and my parents sent me here. Feather and Majhree saved my life. Systir was born with a bad leg, Majhree took her in too. She is the closest thing to a real mother I have ever had.”
Talon smiled. “She is a loving person.”
He wondered as he often did what it would have been like to know his own mother. If it hadn’t been for the frozen plague he might have grown to be a tall Vald like his father. The old pang of sorrow constricted his throat, and he shook the thoughts from his mind, they never led him to a good place.
“Where is Jahsin?” he asked, seeing the empty bed.
“Off to the mines,” she said. “We are allowed a replacement. Long as the work gets done, the Vaka don’t really care who does it.”
Talon moved to sit up. “He has his own work to do; I don’t want to cause him any more trouble than I already…” Pain exploded from the numerous wounds.
Akkeri helped him to lie back on his side. He broke out in cold sweats instantly, and his head swam once more.
“Shh, you just sit back. Jahsin insisted on taking your place. He set out before dawn to get a head start on the work. He’ll be all right. Been here since birth; he knows how to handle himself with the Vaka.”
Talon knew she didn’t mean to insinuate anything about him, but she may as well have. He had only been in the Skomm village for a few days, and already he had been whipped and beaten and had caused someone’s death, albeit a hateful Vaka’s. Still he felt no satisfaction from Brekken’s demise. The man may have earned such a punishment in his lifetime, but he was as much a victim of the barbarians’ twisted culture as any of the Skomm.
“I have my apothecary duties to attend to,” he sighed.
“Majhree is the one who reports your work to the Vaka. Fret not; your herbs are being collected. You must rest.”
Talon was glad to comply. If it
meant being in the care of Akkeri, he hoped he never got well again.
Chapter 10
A Place in the World
Oh, how they curse themselves with word and deed.
—Gretzen Spiritbone, 4990
Talon eventually healed from his wounds and returned to the mines where he worked by day, and then went out with Akkeri during the night to collect supplies under the stars. Although his days in the mines were hard, the nights made up for them tenfold.
He thought often of Chief and prayed to the spirit wolf, Valdr’Skaer, to watch over his friend. His amma had told him Valdr’Skaer had come to her in a dream, and told her where to find the timber wolf pup. The spirit also told her to give the pup to Talon, though she would not say why.
Talon was determined to save Chief’s life, as the wolf had done for him. He, Jahsin and Akkeri had searched throughout the village when their duties took them there, and other times sneaking at night; however, they had yet to see the wolf. Akkeri told him not to worry, that they would find him soon. Talon wanted to believe her.
By the time the endless cold of the long winter gave way to the thaw, Talon had become accustomed to his new life. He kept his head down and minded to not gain the attention of the Vaka or the Vald. He saw Fylkin Winterthorn more than once in Timber Wolf Village, and the chiefson’s glare reminded him he had not been forgotten.
In the mines he had been moved from the cart and given a long hammer due to his youth and energy compared to the half-broken Skomm elders (anyone over thirty). At first the hammer was heavy and cumbersome, but as the days dragged by it became lighter and lighter still. Talon grew half a foot over the next six months and chalked it up to the humor of the gods.
When they had gotten far enough ahead in their foraging for apothecary supplies, or on days when the mines shut down, he, Akkeri and Jahsin spent their time playing bones in the commons with friends or sitting under the wide expanse of stars, seeing who could make out the most constellations and dreaming of leaving Volnoss forever to explore the wide world together. Sometimes their fantasies had them sailing around Agora living a life of leisure. In others they all found a warm corner of the world, built a farm, and lived off the fat of the land. In nearly all of their daydreams, Jahsin added how he had somehow gained the love of an elven beauty. He named her Vindalf, after the beautiful wind-elf of children’s bedtime stories—whose fury was that of a hurricane, and whose love was as gentle as a soft summer breeze.
In all of the fantasies, Talon secretly dreamed Akkeri was his wife, and they had a half-dozen little gingers running around raising the hells.
He knew she wanted him only as a friend. Why would she want him for anything more? He was small and weak, and nothing like the big brawny men women liked. He didn’t mind. Friendship was fine if he could be with her. She had a laugh that made Talon happier than anything else, and he wanted to hear it always. She often gazed at him longer than normal, but Talon suspected she was searching for the meaning to his stares. He was reluctant to admit his true feelings, for if they were not reciprocated, the admission would force an eternal wedge between them—one that could be overlooked, yes, but never ignored completely. Things would always be different.
Time for planting came sooner than anyone had guessed, and the elders told of good tidings. The winds blew softly from the south, and the green was on the trees a full two weeks before normal. Many of the older naysayers warned of another frost, but then again they always did, and enough seeds were kept back in case such a thing occurred. The frost never came, and the seedlings soon took hold.
Talon loved planting time, though the wait for the vegetables to bear fruit seemed nearly as hard as the wait for winter’s end. To him spring was a testament to all the good in the world—a time of birth and rebirth, of younglings, family, and celebration.
The Vald and the Skomm alike had many celebrations attributed to spring, and to their credit the Vald let the Skomm have their festivals. Talon had never partaken in any of the Vald festivities, knowing he might likely get himself killed trying to mingle with the giants. But in the Skomm village he had become part of the community—just another Throwback trying to guzzle as much grog as possible before the taps went dry. That spring was the best one he had ever known. It was the first time he ever danced with a girl, and to his utter delight the girl was Akkeri.
The spring celebration, or Kelda Agaeti, marked the first day of spring, and the entire Skomm village and the Vald alike took part in separate festivities. For the Vald the celebration was just another excuse to drink too much and fight. To the Skomm, to the Throwbacks, the season meant so much more. They saw spring as a time of plenty. Where gruel and the occasional scrap of meat or fish from the underground trade market had been the way of winter, now was the time of fish aplenty.
The ice had begun to loosen from the shore, and the boats had been launched in preparation for the thaw. The Strait of Shierdon never froze over, and fishing there to the south of Volnoss was good; however, the Shierdonians fished the strait and guarded the waterway with warships and rammers. Any barbarian vessel caught in those waters was destroyed, though they were allowed to fish off the shore in the south.
Jahsin had been working his way into the underground trade, called Kaupmadr by the Skomm. He came to Talon and Akkeri on the morning of Kelda Agaeti as they headed out for the day’s work.
“Come on, look at this,” said Jahsin as he passed them coming out of the hut.
“Close the door!” he said with a hissing whisper. Talon glanced sidelong at Akkeri, who only shrugged and closed the door.
Jahsin peered over their shoulders at the closed door as he unwrapped his clutched bundle as if the contents were invaluable. The burlap fabric fell away, and a grin spread across his face. He lifted up a bottle with a dark, red liquid inside.
“What’s that?” Talon asked, though he guessed spirits of some sort.
“Dwarven whiskey!” said Jahsin.
Akkeri, who had been in the midst of rolling her eyes, became intrigued. “Dwarven?”
“Feikin dwarven,” Jahsin said with a proud smile.
Akkeri grabbed the bottle and reached for the cork as if to smell it.
“Easy now, eh,” Jahsin urged.
Pop! went the cork, and Akkeri took a whiff. Her head snapped back and she pressed her hand against her nose. Talon took a sniff as Akkeri handed the bottle back to Jahsin. The fumes erupted in his nostrils and he coughed.
“Thodin’s beard, Jah, the stuff’ll kill you!” Talon laughed.
“You don’t need much is for sure; it’ll be fun,” said Jahsin, corking the bottle once more.
Akkeri shook her head and patted Jahsin on the back before heading to the door. “See you tonight, crazy man,” she waved as she left the hut.
“It’s gonna be fun,” he promised Talon as he too left.
“All right, Jahsin, see you tonight.”
The day went by slower than most. Talon spent all morning shoveling stone and dreaming about the night’s festivities. He cared not so much for the food or the dwarven whiskey Jahsin had procured; instead he looked forward to dancing with Akkeri. He had at first been apprehensive about dancing, but her smile had lured him into the dancing circle. He had lost himself in the midst of the music and energy of the crowd.
The horn marking the quitting hour blared, tearing Talon from his reverie. The days had grown longer, and therefore the sun remained to guide him home from the mines.
As he walked the many miles back to the village and crossed through the small forest, a sudden wailing cry came from the woods to his right. As his head swiveled to pinpoint the sound, he spotted a white owl watching him from a tree. The cry sounded like the call of the lynx, but with a desperate keening to it, almost as if the cat cried, “help, help, help,” as was surely its meaning.
Talon and the owl studied each other for a time, but soon Talon could not bear the sound of the lynx’s suffering. He moved to leave and the strangled cry of the trap
ped animal stopped. The last of its keening cry echoed through the forest and died away as if it had never existed.
Talon thought then of the baby’s cry. Shaking the memory away, he searched the woods. What snow remained sat in scattered patches; piles remained gathered beneath the wide pines whose canopy kept the sunlight away. The earth was sodden with the melt, and branches encased in ice had begun to drip steadily to the forest floor.
He waited for the lynx to cry once more, but no sound came. Looking from the owl to the sun, he gave a sigh.
“Leave well enough alone, Talon,” he said to himself.
He began again down the road and thought of the baby and the lynx. He stopped in the road when his thoughts became too overwhelming to bear. Why had the lynx stopped crying, he wondered.
With a frustrated sigh, he started into the woods, heading in the direction he thought the sound had come from. A shadow flew across the snow as the owl flew overhead, deeper into the woods. Talon started into a jog and followed the owl through a patch of pines that gave way to white birch trees and other scattered varieties. A rustling came from his left and he crouched to listen. Something thrashed beyond the thicket. Twisted vines and thick underbrush forced him to take a roundabout route. The vines grew along a big, dead tree that had fallen to lean on others. Going around, he came to the other side slowly. Movement caught his eye and his guess was confirmed. A big, white lynx peered at him through the ferns. The animal appeared to have been snared by a trap.
Talon searched for a stick to defend himself should the animal become violent. Skomm were forbidden to carry any kind of blade, unless it had been approved for a job.
What am I doing? This cat will tear my face off if I try to help. Besides, the fur belongs to the owner of the trap now. Talon told himself, and he knew it to be true, but that didn’t stop him from investigating further.
He walked cautiously toward the lynx and it followed his every step. Only its head moved as the eyes followed him around to the side. One of the hind legs was sticking straight up, hanging from a partially fallen tree. Talon didn’t know a lot about trapping, but he was pretty sure the trap had not been intended for this animal; at least he told himself so. The snare had caught its hind leg, and from the looks of it, the lynx had fought frantically to extract itself and had gotten hopelessly tangled.
Talon: The Windwalker Archive (Book 1) Page 7