“Wolf and Bear Tribe got a red-haired streak in ‘em. Ain’t so rare as you think,” said Windy.
Tyson shrugged, conceding the point, and then said to Talon, “You got any food or drink? Marcus, there, ain’t doin’ so well. He ain’t gonna last much longer without eatin’.”
Talon glanced at Marcus, who slept fitfully beside Windy as she stroked his forehead.
“Perhaps that wolf of yours can rustle up some game,” said Tyson, motioning to Talon’s pocket.
Thorg perked up. “Wolf?”
“That what caused all the commotion and helped us escape?” Windy asked.
“I’ve got some food here,” said Talon. He shrugged off his pack and ignored their probing about Chief.
He took out two long slabs of dried meat and his brick of goat cheese. The slaves gathered round, all but Marcus. Talon took a swig of the water skin and passed it off to Thorg. The thirsty slave tipped it back but had it torn from his grip by Windy, who brought it over to Markus. “You would drink before the sick, wouldn’t you?”
“Well it makes a hells of a lot more sense than drinkin’ after the sick, don’t it?” he argued.
Windy offered him a withering glare and cupped Marcus’ head to help him drink. He coughed his first drink all over her before keeping the second one down. She took a swig after, and gave him another before handing off to a sour-faced Thorg. He shook his head and wiped the spout before drinking greedily. Tyson snatched the skin from him and took a long pull before handing back to Windy.
Talon divided his meat into five, and likewise split half his brick of goat cheese. The runaway slaves looked on eagerly licking their lips. When he passed the food around, they all tore into it with ravenous hunger. Seeing their state of starvation, he tore half his loaf of bread into five pieces as well.
Thorg offered muffled thanks through a mouthful of meat and cheese, and Tyson nodded agreement. Windy chewed long and slow, and broke off bits of bread to gingerly feed to Marcus. The food roused the man, and he took his piece of the loaf and ate vigorously.
When they had all eaten their fill, they passed the skin around again until it was empty. Water would be easy enough to replace, but the food had been meant to last Talon a few weeks, and the four of them had eaten half of it already. Tyson was right—Chief would need to find them some game.
Marcus passed out again shortly after eating, and Windy and Thorg soon followed, leaving Talon and Tyson to keep watch. Tyson was not far behind them, however. His drooping eyes told Talon that much.
“What’s your story?” Tyson suddenly asked. “How’d ya escape the slavers?”
“I didn’t. I escaped from Volnoss on a raft.”
“Dragon shyte, you did. Nobody escapes Volnoss.”
Talon shrugged. “Here I am. Why would I lie about the how?”
Tyson shook his head and regarded Talon with renewed respect. “And what’s with the wolf? That was magic if I ever seen it.”
As fun as it would be to tell someone the tale of Chief, and as much as part of him wanted to brag, he didn’t trust Tyson. He got up and slung his pack over his shoulder. “I’m going to guard for the night.”
Tyson eyed the pack. “No need to lug that around. I’ll watch over it.”
Sure you will, Talon thought. And you wouldn’t mind making it lighter I bet. “None to worry. Get some sleep—you look like you need it,” he said, and stepped out into the night.
He walked around the windmill and then stretched out his tired muscles, wishing he would have made camp instead of going into the village. When he was finished he settled down to the left of the door where he could keep watch to the north—the direction from which they’d come. Chief was out there somewhere, and Talon worried that he had gone too far from the trinket. He wasn’t sure how far the spirit wolf could go from his earthly anchor, or what would happen if he did. Lifting the trinket up before him, he wondered if Chief could hear him through it. He brought it to his lips and whispered, “Chief, you hear me, boy? Come back if you can.”
The trinket gave no indication that his words had affected anything, so he sat, waiting and wondering what his next move should be. Perhaps he should return now to searching the coast and leave the others to their fate. He didn’t have time to care for them, and Tyson seemed as good a leader as any. They had no food, but they had money. Talon remembered that Tyson had cut the coin purse from the dead guard—and he had not yet offered Talon any for helping them escape. He would have to remember that the next time Tyson wanted food. The coin would help him to replenish his rations and might even get him a room somewhere. The idea of a hot bath left his tired bones aching even more, and the idea of hot food made his mouth water.
He daydreamed about Agoran cuisine as he fought to stay awake. The rain had stopped before he’d come out on guard duty, and the clouds had begun to part a little. By the passage of the moon, he counted the hours. It must have been near midnight when Chief returned and woke him with a nudge to the arm. He jumped with a start and yelled Akkeri’s name.
“Oh…Hey, boy, did you break up the search party?”
Chief barked and sat down with his head on Talon’s lap.
“Good, Chief, that’s my boy.” Talon laughed as he scratched him behind the ears. The wolf quickly turned onto his back for a belly rub. He marveled again at how real Chief felt.
“Them runaway slaves in there are tired and hungry. Think you can rustle up some game? A few rabbits or something? I think they might share in their coin if we give them a hot meal.”
Chief sniffed and sneezed twice, and pawed at his nose.
“What’s that, boy? Did you come across game trails?”
Chief sneezed again and yawned. He got up off his back and shook his furry coat. Something caught his eye and he growled low in his throat. Talon turned to see Tyson standing in the doorway, wide-eyed. He didn’t call off Chief right away, letting Tyson fear him for a moment.
“It’s alright, Chief.” Talon met Tyson’s eyes. “He’s a friend.”
Chief stopped and the hair on his back relaxed. He wagged his tail and offered himself to Tyson, who petted him cautiously.
“Good magic wolf.” He laughed nervously as he pet Chief with longer strokes.
“Like I said, Chief. Tyson, here, won’t mind parting with a few coins for some fire cooked meat.”
Tyson offered a sly grin. “I was going to split it with you, anyway. I owe you that much at least.”
He untied the purse from his belt and sat down next to Talon. The coins clanged heavily as he dumped the contents onto the grass. Talon recognized silver, and guessed that the dull brown coins were bronze. There was no gold. Tyson picked one of the silver coins up to inspect it, and Talon did likewise. One side of the coin portrayed the head of a bearded man wearing a pointed crown, below the bust was the name TOBIAS. The other side of the coin depicted a small island, as seen through the clouds. At its center Talon could make out a castle. The bronze coin was less adorned—on one side was a single S set within a circle, and on the other, a soaring eagle clutching a sword in its talons.
Tyson counted out the coins. There were four silver and twenty three bronze pieces. He gave Talon two silver and eleven bronze. Knowing that there was one left over Talon cocked his eyebrow at him. Tyson held up the extra coin.
“This one’s for luck. Isn’t every day you meet someone famous.”
Talon didn’t know what he meant, and Tyson saw his confusion. He pocketed the coin with a chuckle.
“So you says you escaped Volnoss, eh? You must be the Skomm the Vald been looking for.”
Talon froze, not knowing what to say.
“Thodin’s harry arse—it is you!” Tyson yelled and slapped his knee, and noticed how Talon cringed. “Relax, friend. You’re far from where anybody knows what I’m talking about.”
Talon started hastily gathering his coins. “I should go.”
“What’s the big hurry?” Tyson grabbed his arm as he tried to stand.
<
br /> Chief stood up with a growl.
“Alright, alright,” said Tyson. He let go and held up his empty hands. “Feikinstafir, you two are jumpy. Stay—we can help you look for this girl of yours if you want.”
Talon took a few paces left and then right, not knowing what to do. He was tired of being alone, and though he had Chief, it wasn’t the same as someone who talked back. He liked Tyson well enough…and he had given him half the coins… He wasn’t sure how much they were worth, but he guessed a lot. The guard had been dressed in nice clothes, and the sword didn’t look cheap.
“Don’t you have plans of your own?” Talon asked.
“What plans?” Tyson extended his arms wide. “I been in Agora about as long as you—what plans would I have? Up until last night, I thought that I was doomed to a life of slavery.”
“Well…we’re gonna gain more notice as a large group. We look a lot different than these people. Look at Thorg—he stands heads over any man I have seen here, and Windy is nearly as tall as him.”
“Marcus looks more like them than any of us, with his blonde hair and all. He can pretend to be our master.”
“Where are our chains?”
“It ain’t always like that. Once slaves are broken, there ain’t no need for chains. I even heard on the slaver that we Skomm slaves are the best ones, and the most loyal. Ain’t that some shyte?”
Talon absently pet Chief’s head. “I don’t know.”
“At least stick around till Marcus is in shape for travel. Him and the others could really use your wolf’s protection and hunting skills.”
“Alright. For a little while anyway. But I’m headed back to the coast—I have to find Akkeri.”
A wide smile grew on Tyson’s face. “Excellent! Now how about those rabbits you were talking about?”
Chapter 4
The Sleepy Sailor
Friends he shall find, and enemies as well. – Gretzen Spiritbone, 4991
Talon woke to the smell of meat cooking on an open fire. He sat up with a start and felt for Chief’s figurine in his pocket—his hand clasped the relic, and he gave a sigh of relief.
“Mornin’,” Tyson said. He was slowly turning a stick over the small fire in the center of the room. Three rabbits were skewered and browning over the flame. Fat hissed and crackled as it dripped from the meat into the fire. The others were awake as well and sat huddled around watching the food cook.
“Where’s Chief?” Talon asked, rubbing the sleep from his itchy eyes.
“Watching the perimeter. He came back with these three beauties a little after you fell asleep. Hope you don’t mind I used your knife, needed it to skin the rabbits.” He tossed the leather bound blade back to Talon.
“You went through my things?”
Tyson shrugged. “Didn’t want to wake you to ask for the knife—figured you wouldn’t mind. We’re starving, and the sword is too big for that kind of work. I seen the handle through the top of the bag.”
Sure you did, thought Talon. He always tightened his pack shut with the draw string, out of habit.
Tyson pulled free a piece of meat and popped it in his mouth. He huffed as if it were too hot and licked the grease from his fingers. “Rabbit’s done! Get it while it’s hot!”
Talon’s stomach pangs made him forget his anger. He took a seat with the others and ate his portion. The rabbit meat was greasy and delicious. The five of them tore into the meal and didn’t let up until they’d sucked all the marrow from the bones. Talon found his water skin full and glanced at Tyson, who sat back with a content grin on his face and said, “Filled her up in a crick a bit south of here.”
Talon nodded a thanks and downed large gulps of the cold water. He passed off the skin to Thorg. The lot of them sat back for a time, enjoying their fullness. Windy gave a giant burp which left them all giggling, and soon it became a belching contest. Talon hadn’t laughed in a long time, and it felt good. For a while he forgot his guilt and his worries, and enjoyed the familiar friendly banter. They all seemed to relax for the first time since escaping, and even though they likely had people searching for them, no one would have known by the laughter and merriment echoing throughout the windmill.
After some time, Chief bounded into the tower, startling the group and reminding them of the peril they were still in.
“What is it, Chief?” Talon asked.
The spirit wolf moved to the northern wall and pawed at the stone.
“People coming from the north?” Tyson asked.
Chief barked once.
Tyson took control. “Alright, everybody, let’s get going. Douse the fire and cover it with dirt. We have to move!”
Talon, Tyson, and Chief rushed outside as the other three went to covering up the camp inside the windmill. Together they peered around the corner, looking north toward the wheat and corn fields. Talon found no sign of the search party, but he knew they weren’t far away. Soon the others joined them and they took off to the southwest, through the forest.
“We need to find a stream or river to cross in case they got them hounds with them still,” said Tyson.
“Is the ocean water enough for you?” Talon asked. “As I said before, I’m returning to my search.”
“We can’t go back north just yet.”
Talon stopped. “Then I’ll be seeing you. I’m returning to the coast. Come on, Chief.”
As he turned to leave, Windy jumped in urgently. “Wait! We might need the wolf again to shake them off our trail.”
Marcus and Thorg nodded agreement.
Talon glanced to the north and sighed. “Listen—I helped you escape from the slavers. I’ve shared my food…I’m sorry, but I got my own troubles. You’re welcome to come with me, but my road runs along the coast.”
Marcus, Windy, and Thorg glanced at each other in silent agreement and stepped forward to join him.
Tyson glared at them all as if insulted, but quickly replaced his scowl with a wide smile and said, “Whatever the group wants to do.”
Talon nodded, and Tyson returned the gesture curtly.
“Alright, Chief, back to the coast. I want you to scout ahead. Return if you see anything,” Talon instructed.
Chief barked and ran off.
They traveled through the forest and soon came to the creek where the water skin had been filled. Talon stopped to fill it once more as the others drank their fill. They followed the small stream until it turned too far east, at which point Talon led them once more north toward the coast. By noon they reached the ocean and found Chief waiting for them on the beach.
Talon guessed they were a few miles west of the town where he had found his new friends. He wondered if the slave ship had yet sailed—and if Akkeri was on it.
“So, what are we looking for?” Tyson asked, as they stood on the beach in the hot summer sun.
Talon shrugged. “She left Volnoss on a small keipr during the Eye of Thodin.
“So we’re looking for a shipwreck?” Thorg asked. He received a swift slap upside the head from Windy.
“You really is stupid as you look, ain’t you?” she said, shaking her head.
“It’s alright,” said Talon. “We very well may be looking for a shipwreck.”
They started off to the west, walking along the beach when they dared. Ships appeared now and again off the coast, but none of them were near enough to make out the group. Nevertheless, when they did spot a ship they moved away beyond the dunes where they could still spy the beach. Windy hummed Skomm fire songs as they went, and a few times the others joined in. Talon led them at a quick pace but no one complained. He suspected they would do whatever he asked, given that he was Chief’s master. He sensed Tyson’s annoyance over his apparent leadership, and though Talon didn’t care whether or not they followed him, he knew Tyson did. The young man barely spoke, and when asked something by one of the others, he often gave only a grunt of indifference.
When they approached the outskirts of another fishing village, Tyson’s
demeanor changed dramatically. “Get down and shut up!” he said, and dropped to his belly on a dune covered in long, thin grass.
Talon and the others complied.
“We should go around,” said Marcus. He was awkwardly trying to hide his large frame with the others.
“Just get your golden mop out of sight and let me do the thinking,” Tyson barked.
“What do we do, Talon?” Thorg asked. A sigh was heard from Tyson, having been passed over for advice.
“I have to check the docks—she might have put in here. You four do what you want, but we can’t all go into town.”
“Can’t we?” Tyson asked. He glanced at the others. “Hot food…hot bath…maybe a drink or two...”
“You out your mind, Tyson?” said Windy.
“What? You going to hide in the woods the rest of your life? You going to return to Volnoss?” No one spoke. “Like I said before, Marcus and his blonde hair shouldn’t tip anyone to his being Skomm.” He turned to Talon, his eyes alight with ideas. “You got rope in that pack of yours?”
“Yeah but—.”
“Perfect! Marcus and I can bind the three of you and make like you are newly purchased slaves. Marcus, act like our master. I’ll play your loyal slave guard.”
“Hold on,” said Talon. “I’m not going into the village with my hands tied. And why do you get to be his loyal slave guard?”
“Because,” Tyson grinned. “I’ve got the sword.”
“Look, this is all getting out of control.”
“If you’re scared, say you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared.”
“Then what’s the problem? I, for one, would like a bath and hot food and drink. If we’re going to fit in with these people, we gotta start somewhere.”
“Should we start with a lie?”
Tyson scoffed. “Right, instead we should tell ‘em the truth. Hi, we’re five runaway Skomm slaves from Volnoss. We killed a man in the town back east a ways. We’re looking for a place to sleep.”
Everyone but Windy and Talon laughed.
“Yeah,” Thorg giggled. “Here, barkeep, we stole these coins from the dead guard.”
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