Servant of the Serpent (Serpent's War Book 1)

by Jason Halstead

  Gor stared at him. “Your kid got taken?”

  He nodded.

  Gor sighed. “That’s a damn shame.”

  “That’s putting it mildly.”

  “You know what they do with kids? She’s a maiden, right? Figured—you don’t seem the sort to let her sneak out with a boy. Anyhow, they do a lot of sacrifices and use a lot of maiden blood in their unholy magic. Scare the shite right out of most people. They got a taste for young flesh, too. Like to eat the raw meat fresh off the bone.”

  Gildor fought back his revulsion to say, “That’s enough. We don’t think that’s happened to them. They want them for something else.”

  Gor shrugged. “Don’t matter to me. Got nothing better to do, either. This is as good a way to die as any. Where’s my sword?”

  “You don’t have a sword; you sold it,” Gildor said. “I’ve told you that three times now.”

  “Oh.” Gor frowned. He looked at his hands and then grabbed the side of the boat to pull himself up. “Guess I can crack heads together just as easy. All the same, keep in mind I’m bad luck.”

  “Luck is just that, chance,” Gildor said. “I’ve made a decent life by controlling what I leave to chance. What I can't control, I find ways to tip the odds in my favor. A prayer to Saint Dice don’t hurt, though. Maybe you should try?”

  “Saint Dice can kiss my arse,” Gor snarled. He shook his head. “I got no time or interest in them saints.”

  Gildor frowned and took a step back. He realized what he’d done and opened his mouth to apologize. Gor beat him to it.

  “You’re right to stay away. I keep inviting them to send a bolt of lightning my way but they enjoy my suffering more.”

  “You’ve got problems,” Gildor said. “Try not to draw their wrath too much. At least not until after I find my daughter.”

  Gor’s snarl faded and he chuckled. “Fair enough. I’ll kill snakes for you. I owe the motherless bastards a thing or two myself.”

  “That’s all I’m asking.”

  Gor nodded and turned to stare at the approaching cliffs. Gildor studied him a moment longer and then turned around. Corian was standing a few feet back and studying his bow. Gildor shook his head. “I trust you heard?”

  Corian glanced up. “Heard? Oh, sorry, I was—”

  “A terrible liar,” Gildor snapped.

  Corian smiled. “Yes.”

  “Here’s the deal,” Harlon said as he walked up behind them. “My Lady’s got a shallow draft. Shallow enough we can skim right over the rocks and shoals around this part of the island. There’s a cove with a beach we can get you in and drop you off. We’ll be able to beach, so no swimming or anything. Getting back out isn’t as simple; we’ll have to row our way to open water and in order to stay off the rocks, my floats will need to stay down. That means rowing by hand. It’s all our arses on the line—I expect you’ll help with extra oars?”

  “Understood,” Gildor said.

  “Good. I’ll have everything ready. Stand ready by the bow.”

  Gildor glanced at Corian and Gor. They nodded to show they’d heard and moved up near the bow. They watched the cliffs approach and grow in front of them. Gildor began to grow concerned when he could start to make out details in the dark wall of rock they were racing towards. Harlon swore there was a cove but the cliffs looked unbroken to him.

  Corian gasped and jerked his head back from where he’d been staring over the rail. Gildor frowned and risked a glance, only to see irregular shapes in the water. Given the only light was from stars and moon, he knew he shouldn’t be seeing anything. That meant the rocks were close to the surface. Very close.

  Harlon called out orders to his crew and soon had the ship turning back and forth on a route that none but he knew. Gildor wondered how the man came by such knowledge. It was worth questioning, but not now. Now he wanted the sailors to focus fully on their job.

  The Lady Hornet turned to port, requiring the sails be shifted to handle the southerly wind. Harlon took over for the sailor on the rudder and put his weight against it, keeping the ship slicing across the water and nearly lifting it up on the starboard float.

  “Hold on!” Harlon warned a second before he shifted the rudder the opposite direction. “Drop the mainsail. Pull the bow sail to starboard.”

  Gildor spun in place, trying to keep up. The mainsail was pulled down and laid in neat folds so it could be raised without tangling. The starboard line holding the bottom of the bow sail was pulled back and tied off before the port line was let out so it shifted to gather the wind and pull the boat forward. Harlon kept the rudder lined up with the cliffs and, when Gildor lifted his focus to the island again, he saw they were sailing towards a niche in the rocks he hadn’t noticed before.

  The cliffs were less than forty feet apart and looked even more sheer and imposing when they sailed between them. Gildor stared up at the rocks until the white specks of stars covered the window into the sky above them. If rocks fell from the peaks, they’d smash the boat to tinder. He shook the thoughts away and stared off the bow, past the fluttering bow sail. A beach rose ahead, split by a river that didn’t look wide enough to handle the Lady Hornet.

  Harlon guided the ship and began to spill speed by fishtailing the ship back and forth in the narrow waterway. Gildor and his two companions staggered forward when the outriggers scratched the sand and beached the boat.

  “Halfway there,” Harlon said.

  Gildor pushed himself off the railing he’d fallen against and turned to the captain. “Halfway?”

  “Aye, we still need to get back to Easton.”

  “Oh, okay,” the guide said. He nodded.

  “Well? Be off then,” Harlon urged. “I want the rest of my gold and you’ve only got about twenty-two hours until we’ve had enough.”

  “You said you’d leave after dusk?”

  “Aye, that’s after dusk,” the captain said. “More important, it’s enough before dawn I can be sure we’ve got distance enough between us the snakes won’t know we were here.”

  Corian pointed up the river towards a distant waterfall he could see. Gildor could only hear the faint roar of falling water. “Where do we get up to Shathas at?” the elf asked.

  “You’ll need to head up riverside. There’s a trail behind the waterfall to some ledges and caves that take you up and into the city sewers.”

  “I’ll show you,” Gor grunted.

  Gildor’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “You’ve been here?”

  “Said I owe the snakes, didn’t I?” he responded. Before Gildor could ask more, the large man stepped up on a barrel and then launched himself over the edge of the boat. Corian and Gildor rushed to the side and saw him standing in ankle-deep water that was still rippling around him.

  Gildor grunted and waited for the man to move before he crawled over the edge and dropped into the water. Corian followed, landing light but splashing Gildor nonetheless. The pathfinder ignored him and waded ashore to follow Gor.

  “Half a moment!” Harlon called to them. “Let me throw down some lines so we can get turned around and be ready to heave off.”

  Gildor hesitated and then nodded. The man had a point, especially if they were being pursued on their way out. “Let’s be quick about it,” Gildor said. “We’ve a large city to search and no idea where we’re going.”

  “They’ll be in the dungeons,” Gor said. “I can show you that too.”

  Gildor’s eyes met Corian’s. They shared a look of uncertainty and then jumped when a rope splashed in the water between them. “Boat first,” Gildor decided. They’d come too far to second-guess anything now. If things were going to take a turn for the worse, they’d have to figure their way out then. There was nothing the splisskin could do to stop Gildor now, he was sure of it.

  Chapter 22

  Jillystria stroked Allie’s hair and pressed her body against the young woman’s to share her warmth. Allie trembled and let an occasional sob slip out. They lay huddled together
in the corner farthest from the door, the same corner Jillystria had been in when Allie was first shown into the room.

  “I’m sorry this is happening to you,” the elf whispered. “I’d do anything to make it stop.”

  Allie trembled in her arms. “Why?” she sobbed. Jillystria knew the question wasn’t directed at her. “He doesn’t even talk.”

  Jilly brushed the back of her fingers across Allie’s cheek and winced when she felt the dried blood. “He just hurts you?”

  “Yes,” Allie cried. “He hits me and cuts me and stabs me.”

  “I’m so sorry, Allie.”

  “Then when I’m tired and can’t keep my eyes open anymore—when it hurts so bad I want to die—then one of their priests come.”

  Jilly shivered and gave Allie a gentle squeeze.

  “It’s like snakes are crawling inside me. It tickles and feels so slimy and gross. I hate it. I thought it was miraculous, but now I know better. It’s evil and I’d rather die!”

  “No, never that,” the elf said. “You have so little time in the world; you need to live as long as you can.”

  “Why?” Allie asked. “If it’s going to be like this, why bother?”

  Jillystria was silent for several breaths. “If you die, I won’t have a reason to hold out.”

  Allie turned and looked at her. “What?”

  Jilly gave her a soft and sad smile. “I didn’t want to live any longer before you showed up. I’m young for my kind, but like you said, every day is either filled with pain or emptiness. Now I’ve found strength to help you. Just like you were strong when you first spoke to me.”

  Allie took in a shuddering breath. “I hate them.”

  “I know,” Jillystria agreed.

  “If I could kill them all, I would!”

  “I thought you said you didn’t like fighting?”

  “I understand what my dad and grandpa were trying to teach me now. Sometimes you have to fight. Some people are just so bad, so evil, that they only know fighting. Splisskin are like that.”

  Jillystria rubbed Allie’s arm, brushing her hand as softly across the scabbed over cuts and bruises as she could. “I don’t know the splisskin well,” the elf admitted. “The only ones I’ve met are here, though I’ve seen some from a distance before this happened.”

  Allie was silent, listening to the elf who had taken on a motherly role for her.

  “I don’t know that they are all like this. Just as people and elves are different, I suppose the splisskin must be too.”

  “I don’t think so,” Allie said. “There’s so many, and they all look at me like a cat looks at a mouse.”

  “You may be right; I don’t know,” the elf conceded. “Be careful, though.”

  “Why? Why bother?” Allie’s voice rose as she asked. “We’ll never get out of here. We’ll never escape. Someday they’ll hurt me and not heal me. They’ll ask me questions and I won’t have the answers. Then they’ll stab me and stab me and let me finally die.”

  “Allisandra, stop,” Jillystria reprimanded her.

  Allie shifted a little, wincing from the aches in her body that the splisskin magic didn’t heal. “I hope that day comes soon,” she breathed.

  Jillystria’s breath caught in her throat. The elf had to lift her head and blink back the tears that blurred her vision to keep from spilling them. “We have to get away,” Jillystria said.

  Allie turned her head to look at her. “How?”

  “When they come for us, we have to draw them in and then rush them.”

  “But they always outnumber us,” she said. “And they’re stronger and armed.”

  “They won’t expect it,” Jillystria said. “And don’t you think anything is better than living like this?”

  Allie hesitated and then nodded. “This isn’t living.”

  The elf opened her mouth and then stopped. She turned to stare at the sliver of light at the bottom of the door. “They’re coming.”

  Allie whimpered. “Again? They already took me once today. I don’t want to go again! I don’t—”

  “Allie, hush; we’ll do it now. You know how to fight? We rush them. Grab a sword and use it.”

  Allie stared at her and then jerked her head when she heard a clang of metal on metal from the hallway. Footsteps echoed down the dungeon corridor, enough to make it sound as though a large group was coming for them. “Sounds like a lot.”

  Jillystria frowned. “Wait for my lead. If I give you the nod, then we try it. Okay? Don’t hesitate; we have to use our surprise.”

  Allie licked her swollen lips and hissed in pain. “Okay,” she said. “We’ll do it.”

  They waited and watched as the sounds came closer. The splisskin took longer than they expected, pausing every few steps for several seconds. “Here, let’s separate just in case.”

  “Jilly?” Allie asked, her chin trembling.

  “It’s okay, I promise. Well, as okay as it can be. I’m right here, next to you. We just won’t trip each other this way.”

  Allie sucked on her lip and nodded. “Okay, I’ll try.”

  “You’re such a brave young woman,” Jillystria whispered and then wiped a tear from her eye.

  Allie smiled back and pulled free of the elf’s warmth. She stayed nearby but shifted without groaning so that she held her knees tucked against her chest. Her clothes were dirty and stained with dried blood. She stunk and she knew it, but the alternative was stripping naked in the cell. The splisskin might not care one way or another, but she did. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing they were bothering her.

  Allie sucked in a breath and fought back a smile. Just like that, the spark of resisting—of fighting back—had given her hope. Maybe they were crazy, but they were doing something. Something other than waiting to be beaten and killed.

  The footsteps stopped outside their door. The flickering light darkened under their door, proving she wasn’t crazy. Keys scratched the lock and rattled against the wood before the lock clicked. The hair rose on Allie’s arms and her heart leapt into her throat. Jillystria’s hand found hers and squeezed it before pulling back.

  “Stand,” the elf whispered before following her own advice.

  Allie tightened her sore muscles and forced herself to her feet. Just in time, the door opened and a massive form filled the opening. He blocked the light as he ducked his head and stepped inside. “Prisoners,” he growled. “Two women.”

  Allie turned to Jillystria, her brow furrowed in confusion. She opened her mouth to ask what was going on when she saw another figure step into the doorway out of the corner of her eye. Allie snapped her head back around, the silhouette reminding her of something. Her open mouth fell further and she tried to step forward. Her legs lost their strength and she fell forward, barely catching herself with her hands.

  “Allie!”

  Allie looked up, ignoring her new pains. Jillystria had cried out but so had the man in the door. No, not the door; he was in front of her, kneeling and gathering her in his arms. “Daddy!” she dared to breathe.

  He crushed her against him and squeezed so tight she couldn’t breathe. She felt something wet against her but she didn’t care. Her dad was there. He came for her. He saved her!

  “Jilly!”

  “Cor? Corian! Saints! Is it—how did—” Jillystria’s voice was cut off as her brother collided with her and gave her nearly the same life-altering hug that Allie received.

  “Hurry,” the gruff giant said. “We haven’t been quiet and the dead guards will be found.”

  Gildor stood, picking his daughter up in his arms. Allie felt like she was flying and clung to him. Tears fell down her cheeks without abandon. He staggered and let her down slowly. “Can you walk?”

  “I can fly,” she said and kissed his cheek. “You came for me! Where’s Grandpa? Is he okay?”

  Gildor hesitated and then shook his head. “He—”

  Allie pressed her fingers to his lips. “I was afraid of that,” sh
e said. “He was a wonderful man. He told me he wasn’t really your dad or my grandpa too.”

  Gildor nodded and sniffed. “Did he tell you everything?”

  “About my mom dying in the fire in Assurion’s Crossing?”

  Gildor sighed and nodded. “I’ve always loved you as my own. I’m sorry I—”

  “What?” Allie blurted. “You’ve—what? I don’t understand. What are you saying?”

  Gildor frowned. “The fire. We found Assurion’s Crossing burning and a splisskin raiding party in it. I heard you crying in a burning house, so I broke in and saved you. Then we ran like the gates of hell were open behind us.”

  Allie stared at him, his eyes as wide as they could be. “You mean you’re not really my dad? I mean, um—”

  “I am, just not by blood,” Gildor said. “We can talk about it later. We’ve got to go.”

  Allie blinked and nodded. She shook her head, pushing the confusion aside. He was right; he was her dad, even if the chance of birth had deemed it otherwise. She couldn’t resist another quick hug for his sake. She turned and saw Jillystria and the elf she’d saved talking in hurried whispers in another language. “Jilly?”

  Jillystria looked up and smiled. “Allie, this is my brother, Corian.”

  “I know. I saved him.”

  “My sweet nymph,” Corian said before bowing. “My heart soars to find you alive.”

  Allie bit down on her lips and then couldn’t resist smiling.

  “Time’s up,” the man at the door growled. He stepped out into the hallway, a splisskin spear in his hand.

  “I found something,” Gildor said as he drew out the curved sword from his belt.

  “My sword!” Allie yelped. She took it and grinned. “Grandpa gave this to me. I stabbed a splisskin with it before they got me.”

  “You’re going to have a chance to do it again,” Gildor said. He turned away, revealing a darker spot on his side and hip. “Come on, kid; we’ve got to go.”

  “You’re bleeding! Oh no! Dad, are you okay?”

  “Just a scratch,” he said.