Son of the Dragon (The Netherworld Gate Book 3)

by Sam Ferguson

  Talon remembered the conversation well. He almost laughed as he recalled it now, but he managed to stifle his urge. “I killed a woman,” Talon blurted out. “In the cave near the gate. There was a Kruk priestess, and she stood between me and my goal.”

  Elorien brushed hair from her face and watched Talon as he sat silently, composing the words he wanted to say next.

  “Previously, I have been able to escape from women warriors, but this one was different. I couldn’t wound her. She healed instantly. There was no way for me to incapacitate her and still leave her alive.”

  “So you did what you had to do in order to open the gate,” Elorien finished for him.

  Talon nodded and scraped his toe along the deck as if pushing a piece of dirt away. “Anyway, you asked what changed. That’s it.”

  “You mean to tell me that you never broke your rule before?” Elorien asked.

  Talon shook his head. “I have indirectly caused harm, I’m sure. I have started fights, even instigated war in Zinferth. In Medlas, I set a large fire that ravaged much of the city, but I had never directly killed a woman before. I always escaped, incapacitated them, or used a mixture to help them forget they ever met me. I never killed a woman.”

  The two of them sat in silence after he finished speaking. It was strange. He hadn’t confided in anyone for as long as he could remember. He hadn’t even allowed himself to feel remorse or shame for the things he had done, let alone talk to anyone about it. Yet, here he was, on a boat bound for the mainland so he could finally kill the demi-god that had so long ago put him on his bloody path, and he was confiding in an elf.

  After a few moments, Elorien rose from her seat and left Talon to his thoughts.

  For an instant, he wondered what she was thinking. Then he pushed the thought out of his mind. What difference would it make? He shook his head and sat back, looking out to the sunset again and clearing his head of all thoughts except for Basei. He pictured the temple in his mind. He imagined what it would look like on the inside. How many priests would there be? What defenses would Basei have put in place in the High Temple? Then he pictured the demi-god of battle himself. Talon closed his eyes and watched a deadly dance play out in his mind between him and his arch nemesis. He slowed the fantasy down just as his blade pierced through Basei’s chest and the demi-god was vanquished forever.

  “Are you sleeping?” a voice called out.

  Talon begrudgingly opened his eyes and abandoned his fantasy. Before him stood Fyrik. The assassin looked up at the elf and nodded. “I was thinking about it,” he said.

  The elderly drow sat down next to him. His brow was creased in what Talon assumed was a weary expression, after all, Fyrik had seen many of his villagers die at the hands of the other Sierri’Tai warriors. Talon took a moment to look at Fyrik, noting the similarities between Elorien and her father, most obviously the shape of the eyes, somewhat almond-like and bright in color. Yet there were stark differences as well. Elorien’s skin tone was much lighter than her father’s. She was still easily identified as a drow by her appearance, but Fyrik was a much darker gray, a color one might see if they rubbed gray ash over a black piece of charred wood.

  That wasn’t all Talon had noticed either. Fyrik was a hard father, commanding and demanding exact obedience. Elorien was the only one that questioned him, and even when she held her tongue, Talon had seen the fire in her eyes. Even in the short amount of time it took to prepare the schooners, he had seen enough of their dynamic to get a feel for their relationship. More than that, he gained insight into Fyrik’s character, learning that the elderly elf was a shrewd and cunning patriarch. He wasn’t exactly dangerous, but Talon figured he would have to keep an eye on the drow. That was why he had insisted on putting them both on his boat.

  “She is a good person, my daughter,” Fyrik said, breaking the uneasy silence between them.

  Talon eyed Fyrik suspiciously. He wondered whether Fyrik knew about all of his daughter’s deeds while on Svatal, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he wondered why Fyrik was opening a discussion with that line. Talon was not looking for a wife.

  “She could be a good companion,” Fyrik continued and he leaned in and nudged Talon with his shoulder.

  Talon was not in the mood for games. He decided to prod Fyrik into being more direct. “Fyrik, you saw what happened as a result of me opening the gate. I presume your daughter told you how she met me. What exactly are you getting at?”

  Fyrik’s smile disappeared. “Sometimes, one has to look beyond what they see in order to see what they are meant to find,” he said.

  “Now I know you were familiar with Jahre,” Talon said with a sigh. “I am not one who has patience for riddles.”

  Fyrik nodded and brought his tone down to ensure only Talon could hear him. “Very well. I shall speak plainly. There are not many of my people left, certainly none that would be a suitable match for Elorien. I am suggesting you might find that having a woman around eases pains that nothing else can. I was familiar with your grandfather, yes. I even know some details of your life, though admittedly not nearly enough to say that I know who you are. Still, if you are going to slay Basei, then who will be there for you? A demi-god lives much longer than even an elf. They become immortal. If you can look beyond Elorien’s past, and see her for who she is, you would find a fair companion.”

  “Her past is not as dark as my own,” Talon said openly.

  Fyrik nodded. “Among my people, there are not many who would be willing to overlook her past. I thought perhaps you might have a different perspective. Maybe you could at least ponder the possibility of new beginnings.”

  “What’s in it for you?” Talon asked.

  Fyrik laughed aloud and shook his head. “That depends entirely upon you,” he said.

  Talon shot Fyrik a curious glance.

  “What I mean to say, is that if you embrace the idea, and she agrees to it, then I could be at peace. She is all the family I have left.”

  “And you would betroth her to an assassin?” Talon asked.

  Fyrik shrugged. “If you are the man that Jahre saw in his visions, then your past is of little consequence so long as you set a correct course from this point forward.”

  Now Talon laughed and shook his head. “I don’t think it is that simple,” he said.

  Fyrik turned and seized Talon’s shoulder with surprising strength. “Oh but it is. Don’t you see? You are one who can tip the balance. You are the one that Jahre saw restore order to a broken land. You replace Basei, and though you win vengeance for yourself, you can give so much more than that to the people that worship Basei. You will have the power to grant their prayers, to offer them blessings, and to stop the atrocities Basei commits out of his rage. You can tame the fire that scorches these lands. Furthermore, you will need a strong partner to keep you steady. My daughter is not only a good person, but she is strong. She can stand beside a demi-god and not flinch when things become difficult, and mark my words, things will become complicated.”

  “Ah, so there it is then,” Talon said. “You want me to marry your daughter so she can keep an eye on me and keep me in line, is that it?”

  Fyrik nodded. “I am not afraid to say so,” he replied. “Men are often given to bloodlust, passion, rage, and greed. A good woman provides a great buffer to those temptations. I have done terrible things in partnership with the other great minds of the Elf War in order to preserve balance and keep our world from ruin. Betrothing my daughter to the future Basei seems a small measure by comparison if it helps to ensure balance. But, there is more to it than that. I saw the way she looked at you when she saw you standing on the bank.”

  “When she was deciding whether to kill me, you mean?” Talon interrupted.

  Fyrik waved off the notion. “No, that isn’t what she was thinking. You don’t know this, but she talked about you a lot after she brought you to Selemet.”

  Talon growled in frustration. “She wasn’t supposed to,” he said.
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br />   Fyrik pushed Talon’s shoulder and shook his head. “No, you don’t understand. She talked about you in her sleep. She wasn’t conscious.”

  Talon eyed the drow and laughed. “I thought you said you found out about me through father’s intuition?”

  Fyrik smiled and offered a wink. “Partly,” he conceded. “In any case, once I got her to open up, I saw there was a connection there.”

  “A connection?” Talon repeated. “She did tell you that I threatened to tie her to a mast right?”

  Fyrik smiled. “My wife once threatened to hit me in the head with a rock. It was the beginning of a wonderful courtship that eventually led to a very happy marriage.”

  “A rock? What were you doing, spying through her window?”

  “No,” Fyrik said with a wistful smile. “I followed her to the fields where she picked flowers with her sisters. I thought I was so clever and sneaky, but she caught me. She picked up a round stone and threw it in my direction, promising that the next one would hit its mark if I didn’t leave.”

  “And that led to marriage?” Talon asked skeptically.

  Fyrik shook his head. “No, but the flowers I left on her doorstep, along with a poem I penned as an apology for spooking her earned me enough rapport that she and I were able to strike up a friendship. That soon blossomed into something else.” Fyrik sighed and raised his hand to wipe a tear that had formed suddenly. “She died during the wars.”

  “I am sorry,” Talon offered.

  Fyrik nodded. “I saw the way you steal glances at my Elorien,” he said as he sniffed back the tears and cleared his throat. “It is the same way I stole chances to look at my dear wife.” He turned and patted Talon on the leg. “You ask me how I can suggest an assassin could marry my daughter, but you forget that I helped orchestrate the banishment of an entire race. That single act resulted in many deaths. I know what it is to be compelled by vengeance.” Fyrik rose from his seat and looked down at Talon with a soft smile. “We all have a past, my young friend, but it is the course we set today and tomorrow that determine what kind of honor we will have. Just, think on my suggestion. You might find that your solace will come from a family of your own, and not the vengeance you think you need.”

  “I still don’t think you are telling me the whole of it,” Talon said.

  Fyrik frowned and sat upright, pulling back from Talon. “What else is there to say?”

  “How about you just admit that you want to broker the marriage because you know I am going to be a demi-god? Do you think I can’t see your play for power?”

  Fyrik bristled. “It is not power for me that I want, but a better life for my people.”

  “Your people can come to the astral plane after I slay Basei,” Talon said. “There is no need to go behind your daughter’s back and assign her to me like she is chattel to be bought and sold.”

  Fyrik stood and pointed a threatening finger at Talon’s face. “That is not what this is! Who are you to tell me what to do?”

  Talon saw Leflin approach quickly, ready to pounce. The assassin motioned for Leflin to wait. “Fyrik…”

  “No, you listen,” Fyrik snarled. “I am the patriarch of the Tomni’Tai. You are the patriarch of your Sierri’Tai. There may be other clan leaders present, but marrying them to Elorien will not produce a true union of our peoples. I am offering a chance to end the suffering of our peoples by uniting them. It isn’t a bargain to gain power, it is the proper tradition. In order for our two nations to join, you must join by blood, by marriage. We must make our peoples one family. I know your ways are different, but that is what Tomni’Tai tradition dictates. To take us along and grant us a place beside your people would only be an insult to us, unless we offer an equal gift to you. I cannot live in a place where we are second rate citizens; that is how we have lived for the last five hundred years.”

  Talon shook his head and held up a hand, noticing that there were a few Tomni’Tai elves listening in now. “Sit down,” Talon said.

  Fyrik refused and folded his arms over his chest.

  “Alright,” Talon said. “Stand, but your daughter is already married, and I still cannot accept that you would bargain with her life, even if it did join our people.”

  Fyrik’s dark face took on a cherry-colored hue and a vein in his forehead throbbed. Talon was unsure whether he had said something specifically that offended the patriarch of the Tomni’Tai, or if the simple act of arguing with Fyrik was so abhorrent to the drow leader.

  “My daughter is no longer married to her former husband. I have announced their divorcement. As for deciding to whom she will be betrothed, that is my choice, as I am the patriarch. I may give her to whomever I please.”

  Talon watched Fyrik storm off back to the cabin and disappear through the door. He then caught sight of Elorien, standing on the port side, leaning just over the edge of the boat and letting the evening breeze push her hair out behind her. The assassin let his eyes trace her curves and he couldn’t help but wonder, just for a moment, if perhaps there was something to the old drow’s words.

  *****

  Talon woke early the next morning to shouts and commotion coming from the deck above. He jumped off his cot and clambered out of the cabin to see what the matter was. What he saw was a large naval vessel sailing toward them. It flew Shausmatian flags and archers were lining the sides of the ship. Talon took in a breath when he saw a ballista launcher being wheeled into place.

  “My king,” Leflin said as he approached quickly. “Give the order and we can destroy the vessel with our magic.”

  Talon nodded swiftly. “Do it.”

  Leflin turned and shouted in Taish. Talon held his breath as a hail of arrows flew up from the Shausmatian ship, arching over the vessels Talon was leading, and heading down for them. A shield of fire formed over the boats, incinerating the arrows. Then, three columns of swirling fire shot out toward the Shausmatian ship. The flames bored through the hull in seconds, ripping the wood apart and rocking the ship back.

  Men shouted and screamed. Some dove into the water, while others tried to fire their missiles at the boats. The ship soon snapped in half, the aft section crashing down into the sea and spraying water out around it.

  It appeared that the battle was over before it had really begun, but as the ship sank below the surface, Talon spied five smaller ships that had been blocked from view by the larger vessel.

  “It isn’t over,” Talon shouted.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Talon saw Elorien push the current pilot out of the way and take control of the helm. She looked to Talon and nodded as she maneuvered the vessel toward the enemy ships to present a narrower target.

  At the same time, Fyrik shouted at all of the Tomni’Tai, herding them into the cabin and out of the way.

  Arrows flew at the boats. The Sierri’Tai warriors worked furiously to maintain the fire shield over the small fleet. Unfortunately, the smaller vessels each were equipped with a lighter scorpion launcher. The heavy missiles were fired so that their trajectory sailed below the fire shield. Two of the boats were struck. One was hit three times in the hull, and the other was hit twice. The elves on the damaged boats struggled to keep their vessels afloat. The warriors on the undamaged boats retaliated swiftly, raining fire down upon the other naval ships. A smoking fireball blasted into one, shattering the vessel and throwing charred bodies out into the sea. Two more had their hulls grazed and broken, and quickly took on water until they turned sharply into the water and began to sink.

  Another volley from the scorpion launchers flew directly at Talon’s boat. Elorien had seen the launchers redirecting at them, and was turning the boat so sharply that the port side nearly dipped under the water as the boat swerved. The maneuver worked, and the two missiles flew by, one missing by a wide margin, and the other only glancing off the hull.

  Talon was only barely able to hold on as the boat pitched, others were thrown down to the deck, tumbling toward the port side. That was when Talon saw him. O
ne of the young Tomni’Tai elves had hidden himself on deck, and now he was tumbling across the wet planks toward the descending port side railing. One of the Sierri’Tai warriors reached out, but failed to catch the boy. He toppled out over the side rail and into the water.

  Before he had time to think, Talon was leaping into the water. He dove down, swimming after the youngling who was sinking quickly and leaking air bubbles from his mouth as he had been shouting for help when he fell. The assassin seized the child’s shirt and pulled him close. Then, he hooked one arm under the child’s armpit and changed directions in the water, dragging the youngling up toward the surface.

  As they broke out from the water, Talon saw that the boat had sailed a good ten yards away from them. Elorien was shouting and working the vessel to bring it around. The warriors were focused on their spells, throwing fire at the remaining ships.

  “Hang on, youngling,” Talon said as the child sputtered and wrestled against him. It was obvious that the boy was panicked. He was digging his nails into Talon’s arm, clawing to pull himself up over the assassin and thrashing his legs as well. Talon tightened his grip and turned over onto his back, leveraging the child above the water and also giving himself a better angle to keep the struggling youngling safe.

  It seemed like hours before the boat finally drew close to them again. A mess of hands reached down and pulled Talon and the boy from the water, heaving them up onto the deck. Even after they were out of the water, the youngling thrashed for several seconds before finally calming down. The little one’s mother rushed in and held him tightly, kissing him on the forehead and cheek as she buried him in her arms. Someone brought a blanket and wrapped it around them.

  Talon pushed up, aided by someone pulling him from behind as he stood.

  “The enemy is defeated,” Leflin said.

  Talon nodded and moved to the starboard side of the boat so he could see the other ships. Burning heaps of wood jutted out of the water at sharp angles while a thick, black smoke hung over the entire area.

  Fyrik emerged from the cabin and approached Talon.