In that moment, Talon wished that he had never met Akkeri and that she had gone about her life without the shadow of Talon’s curse darkening her days and extinguishing her future. His actions had led her to her fate. He alone would be responsible for her every pain. He vowed then to make her pain his and to push himself to the brink of death and beyond, if need be, to right his wrongs. He would push himself every day in the mines, and he would bleed her blood.
“As Thodin is my witness, I will free you both from this hellhole!” Talon screamed at the heavens.
The door opened and Jahsin peered in with one meek eye.
“You want company?”
Talon nodded to the chair beside his bed, and his friend came in the room and closed the door as if a bear slept in the corner. He walked timidly to the side of the bed and sat down. His eyes jumped quickly from the floor to Talon’s eyes, and back down again. Talon saw what his nails had done to his friend’s face, and a lump grew again in his throat.
“Jahsin, I’m sorry. I…”
“You did what any man would do, and I did what any friend would,” said Jahsin, meeting his gaze. “She’s my friend too, Tal; I feel your pain. We all do. Only yours is all of ours combined, and burnin’ in your belly like the midday sun.”
Talon was grateful to have Jahsin at his side. He might’ve seemed a right jolly village idiot to some, but Talon knew better, as did anyone able to look beyond his squinting eyes, his big, stupid smile, and his stump of an arm.
Jahsin saw things others did not. He could read a person with a glance and an open ear, and gauge the mood of a room from the doorway. With his one hand he accomplished more in a day than many did with two. His disability drove him to keep up with everybody else to such an extent that he often surpassed them. He felled trees all day with only what the gods had given him. To Talon he was worth a dozen Vald, one-armed or not.
“I’m going to get her back, Jah. I’m going to get Chief back too.”
“I know you are, Tal.”
“Then we’re getting off of this gods-forsaken island,” Talon promised.
Talon pushed himself to the breaking point in the mines every day thereafter. He went about every job with reckless abandon, driven by the images incessantly playing in his mind. He saw Akkeri everywhere, and he took his frustration out on the pick axe, imagining Fylkin’s face was on every rock he split. When Talon was pushing the cart, he imagined shoving Fylkin into a burning pit of lava. Every stone he carried was one to be dropped on the chiefson’s head. He began to hope that Fylkin would come after him during Freista. Majhree said Talon had to beat them with his mind, and he intended to.
When he could not stand Akkeri’s imagined cries any longer, he did something to gain the attention of Vaka Groegon’s whip. He began to crave the pain, the reminder. Every lash scar was a penance for his crimes; every one of his silent cries was an echo of hers. When the whipping failed to silence the visions of her pain, he incited further beatings from the Vaka. A mark had been on his head since Kelda Agaeti. The Vaka understood that Talon’s arse belonged to Chiefson Fylkin—that they could bruise it but not break it. Vaka Groegon was particularly skilled at inflicting pain without real damage, and Talon welcomed it all.
With Akkeri gone, Majhree asked Jahsin to collect apothecary supplies with Talon during the nights. She assured them that she had gained approval from the new Vaka who had replaced Brekken.
They began to piece together the parts of the raft in the dark of night. Neither of them got much sleep, but neither of them cared. Jahsin had procured half of the rope they would need and expected the other half well before the start of summer. They had yet to find a sail. Finding a used one proved impossible; sails were not often discarded but rather stitched and repaired. They had progressed in other areas, however; already the rudder was half finished. Jahsin found a suitable piece of hardwood and cut out the dimensions.
They had been at it every night for two weeks, whittling down the rudder to the right shape with the best tool they could find for the job. Talon had gotten the idea one night while they were gathering clover. He returned to where he had freed the lynx and found the skinning knife where he had left it. Talon didn’t care if he got caught with it; he would slit the throat of the Vaka who found it. He had noticed Jahsin’s concerned looks, which he gave more as the weeks passed by. Talon didn’t care.
He and Jahsin were assigned to collect wet-weed almost daily. Majhree sold it off to make the cover story seem legitimate, and more orders came down the line from healers who swore it had special properties. Talon used the time at sea to get to know Vaka Bjorn. Jahsin had initially been wary about the idea, but after a few days around the man, he agreed there might be something more to him.
They learned from the other Skomm that Vaka Bjorn had gained his title only five years ago, after the previous Vaka was killed by one of the fishing crews. The entire crew had been executed and their heads set to pikes near the docks, but the warning did nothing to quell the Skomm sailors. They had always been the hardest of the Throwbacks to control, and therefore one of their own had been chosen to oversee the docks. Vaka Bjorn was well-liked and highly respected among the Skomm fisherman, and he successfully managed the rowdy sailors. One of his tricks was forbidding any spirit but wine for the fishermen. Liquor and ale made them far too agitated. The wine, on the other hand, put them in a right jolly mood, and the songs of the drunken sailors were many.
“What are the sails made of?” Talon asked one day while the ship headed back to collect the first of the nets put out in the morning.
Vaka Bjorn gave him a curious glance as he watched billowing sails. “They’re made of hemp, sometimes flax,” he said.
Talon didn’t want to press the subject as he felt suspect talking to a Vaka about such things. As it turned out, he didn’t have to.
“Them eyelets in each corner, them called cringles,” Bjorn explained. “The top rod there works in unison with them ropes at the bottom corners to keep the sail taut.”
Talon nodded as he mentally took note of the details.
“Why you ask?” he asked suddenly, and Talon was left with his mouth gaping.
“Ugh. I don’t know. I was thinking it would be easier and more productive for the fishing if we had a small boat to get the seaweed ourselves.”
The words came out of Talon’s mouth before he knew what he was saying. His eyes went wide and he averted his gaze to the sun high above.
“That’s not a bad idea,’ said Bjorn. “The weed is in high demand,” he added with a sideways glance of silent understanding. “Say I was to procure such a boat. What you think it’s worth to Majhree?”
Talon realized he was in the midst of negotiating an underground deal with a Vaka. His mind scrambled to remember why he trusted the man. Could it be a setup? he wondered. No, he trusted the man. He didn’t know why, it was just a feeling—one he prayed was correct. He tried to remember the terminologies of traders but his mind only came up with, “twenty-five percent.”
Vaka Bjorn looked down on him with a stern eye, and Talon worried he had been made. “Thirty percent,” the captain finally muttered.
“Deal!” Talon blurted and spit in his hand, offering it to the man.
Bjorn eyed the offered hand and then suspiciously at the working crewmen. He turned to face the rail and shook Talon’s hand quickly.
“I’ll get you a small, single-sailed keipr, small enough you and your friend can manage. The boat’ll be ready in a week. But it’s gonna cost you. We’ll take it out of the profits ’til the balance is paid in full; then the split begins,” said Vaka Bjorn.
“Agreed,” Talon grinned.
What the Feikinstafir just happened? he thought as he left Bjorn to bark orders to his crewmen.
“You ain’t gonna believe this,” he whispered to Jahsin as he joined him at the rail.
“What?” Jahsin asked, leaning in conspiratorially.
“I’ll tell you when we’re on land,” Talon a
ssured him.
After the ship returned to the docks and they were safely alone walking back to the Skomm village, Talon filled Jahsin in on the deal he had made with Vaka Bjorn.
“Our own boat?” Jahsin said, amazed. “How in the hells you manage that?”
Talon shrugged with a grin. “I don’t know, it just sort of happened.”
“Fylkin gets wind of this, he’s never gonna let it happen,” said Jahsin.
“I don’t see why not. Our seaweed is in high demand right now. We’ve been on three trips this week alone. You have to remember: nobody has a clue what we’re up to. So what if a couple Skomm have access to their own puny keipr? Plenty of Skomm already do.”
Jahsin laughed nervously as they passed two Vald headed to the docks. Once they were out of earshot, he leaned in to whisper though no one was around.
‘You’re not just another Skomm, Tal.”
“Don’t worry; everything’s coming together,” Talon assured him.
“You sure we can trust Bjorn? Might be a setup.”
“What would be the point in setting us up? They can kill us anytime they want.”
“You got a point,” said Jahsin. “Just seems too good to be true. What about the raft? We should take it apart and get rid of the evidence.”
Talon shook his head. “I think we should keep on with it as a backup plan. Better to have two plans than one. Plus we now have access to a sail and more rope if we need it. Once the profits from the wetweed start coming in, we can have a little accident and lose the sail or sink the keipr and take the sail. Vaka Bjorn will get us a new one.”
Jahsin nodded with a growing smile next to him. “You got it all worked out, don’t you?”
“Majhree said we gotta beat them with our minds. We have to think of everything,” said Talon.
They returned to the village to find a note from Majhree tacked to the door of the hut. The letter beckoned Talon to come by when he got in. He wasted no time and headed straight for the house of healing. When he got there, Majhree was tending to a Skomm woman with multiple whiplashes across her back. Majhree and a small Skomm girl were applying the thick salve.
“Ah, Talon, come in,” she urged him and reached into her pocket as she turned from her patient.
Talon came in close and she handed off a piece of paper. “See it’s burned when you done reading it,” she urged.
Talon’s heart leapt with anticipation; he knew it was a note from Akkeri. He removed himself to one of the curtained beds at the other end of the room and with shaking hands unfolded the letter. It read, “Ever are you close to my heart and mind; I love you.”
He turned the letter over, thinking he had missed something, but he had not. He read the sentence again a dozen times and reluctantly burned it. It did his heart well to hear from her, but he found himself focusing on the things she hadn’t said, which were many. She hadn’t said that she was doing well, that she wasn’t in pain. The short message had a finality to it that left him feeling hollow. He tried to tell himself that she had written in haste and that she would have said more if she had the time, but he remained unconvinced.
Majhree left the girl and shuffled over to speak to him.
“How is she?” Majhree asked with an expectant smile.
“She didn’t say; just said she was thinking of me.”
“Oh,” Majhree frowned but quickly recovered her smile.
“This is good news,” she beamed with effort. A worried frown cast a shadow of concern over her face and marred her efforts. “I hope this news means you won’t be taking up a bed as often.”
Talon avoided her allusion to his self-inflicted injuries at the hands of the Vaka and changed the subject.
“Vaka Bjorn has suggested Jahsin and I have our own boat for collecting your seaweed. He wants thirty percent of all profits after payment for the boat is reimbursed.”
Majhree stared at him, dumbfounded. “Well, I’ll be damned,” she said with a shake of the head and click of the tongue. “Told you there was still a chance; you three can sail out of here whenever you want.”
Talon hadn’t thought about it that way. His mind had been set on leaving on the night of Freista, when the chaos would afford them a distraction. He still thought it a good idea to leave on the new moon, however. His mind began to shift from attaining a sail to freeing Chief and Akkeri. He had been so absorbed with building the raft that he had not thought much about how they might be freed.
A week later he and Jahsin got the promised keipr. It was a small boat, similar to other two-man keiprs, only slightly larger and with a single sail in the middle. They loaded up the seaweed pots, trying to hide their glee as Vaka Bjorn recited instructions and precautions should they capsize. Talon barely heard a thing the man said as he waited in quiet anticipation of getting out onto the waters. He could see Jahsin was nearly jumping out of his skin himself. Their excitement was not missed by Vaka Bjorn.
“You two look like you seen mermaids,” he laughed. “In you go.”
They boarded the keipr, Talon taking up the forward position next to the sail and Jahsin manning the rudder. Vaka Bjorn paused before pushing them out and deadpanned to them in turn. “Mind you come back, ya hear?”
“Course we will,” said Talon, trying to keep his face blank.
Bjorn smirked and gave the faintest of winks before pushing them off. They each took up a paddle as they left the shallows and headed out to sea.
“Mind the winds and the current!” he yelled from the shallows as they paddled themselves out further.
“And keep land in sight!”
Voices carried over the water, so neither of them spoke until they were well beyond earshot. The small waves crashing into shore would make them harder to hear, but they didn’t want to risk it. When they were well enough away, Talon turned to regard a stupefied Jahsin.
“What the hells was that about?” Jahsin asked with wide eyes.
“I don’t know.”
“He suspects somethin’,” Jahsin pressed nervously.
“Well, if he cared, I doubt he would have given us a boat,” said Talon.
Jahsin nodded as if to reassure himself, but worry still etched his face.
“Come on, Jah; we could spend our whole lives worrying about maybes. We have a boat; now we need to figure out a way to free Chief and Akkeri. I say the sooner, the better.”
“All right, all right. But you gotta stop getting whipped all the time. You bein’ laid up for days in the healin’ house ain’t helpin’ nobody.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
“I am worried, Tal. You got more whip marks than anybody I know. Feikin sakes, man, seems like you been tryin’ to get beat.”
Talon said nothing but loosened the sail and tied it off. The wind caught and the keipr lurched forward. Sea spray shot up over the bow and covered them in mist.
Jahsin said no more on the subject, and they sailed in silence. Talon felt a freedom on the open waters he had never experienced on land. The whole world seemed to be laid out in front of him as they made for the deeper waters. From here they could go anywhere. He had seen a map his amma had left out one night. He was old enough to read at the time and had been amazed to discover that Volnoss was so small compared to mainland Agora. The names of every kingdom and city made his imagination go wild. Eldalon, Shierdon, Uthen-Arden, and strange elven names like Elladrindellia and Cerushia, and the long dwarven mountain ranges, Ky’Dren, Elgar, and Ro’Sar. From that day on, he had dreamt of what life might be like for the people of Agora. Better than his, he guessed.
Behind them Volnoss became a faraway bump on the horizon, and Talon became giddy with excitement. He couldn’t wait to set out with his friends and Chief to their new life in Agora. It would be the best day of his life.
Chapter 17
The White Owl
Could he be the first to pass the test? In my centuries I have met few like him.
—Azzeal, 4996
They named the keip
r Kvenna, after Talon’s mother. Jahsin had suggested they name her Freedom but soon agreed the name would be too blatant. They took her out twice a week and gathered enough of the wetweed to pay back the cost of the boat in only four trips. If Vaka Bjorn suspected anything, he kept his thoughts to himself, though he did regard them with a knowing glance.
The profits from the wetweed started coming in and Majhree insisted they take their cut in any form they chose. They decided to continue with the raft backup project and traded their wares for more rope and food. Soon they would stage the sinking of Kvenna far offshore so they could hide the theft of the sail.
Talon had spent a few days teaching Jahsin how to swim, as they would need to make it back to shore after the boat went under. They decided to blame the accident on sabotage. Already they had begun to put it in Vaka Bjorn’s head that there was competition for wetweed somewhere on the island. Jahsin sold large quantities of the stuff through underground channels anonymously to solidify the story.
The ploy worked better than they had hoped. One day, three weeks before Freista was to take place, Vaka Groegon informed Talon he was done in the mines. The man could barely contain his anger at the order.
“Looks like you so good at woman work they want you flower pickin’ full-time,” he said with a sneer.
Talon had the urge to laugh at the sad, angry man, but he held his tongue.
“Don’t matter anyhow. The night of dying is comin’ sure as sumar be on its way. I’ll be watchin’, boy; I’ll be there to see your head stuck to a pike.”
Talon: The Windwalker Archive (Book 1) Page 12