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

by Jason Halstead

  Corian grunted as he walked into Gildor’s back. The human spun and scowled at him.

  “Sorry,” Corian whispered.

  Gildor glared at him and turned away. “Come on, the river bends up here.”

  Corian followed Gildor out onto a peninsula of land. The human shifted back up onto the top of the mound, using the trees as cover. Corian followed him and ran into him again.

  “That wasn’t my fault!” Corian hissed. “You stopped!”

  Gildor ignored him and pointed ahead, near where the river curled around the end of the peninsula and began to empty into the lake. “The boats!”

  Corian followed his gaze and gasped. There were four boats ahead of them, each being rowed by several oarsmen while robed figures were struggling to position masts and rig sails on them. “Is that—”

  “The second boat!” Gildor whispered. “That’s Allie! They’ve got her rowing.”

  Corian shook his head. It was impossible. Even if they could somehow walk on water and beat them to the lake, the village full of splisskin behind them would wake up and be on them. “Gildor, how can we stop them?”

  “Doesn’t matter how,” Gildor said and took off at a run. He scrambled to pull his bow off his back and then fit an arrow to the string as he ran across the uneven ground.

  Corian cursed and gave chase. If he had a bow that might be something, but without that, they could do nothing but hurl insults at the splisskin. They might try to swim out, but if the alligators didn’t get them, the splisskin would make sure they didn’t make it out of the water alive.

  “Allie!” Gildor shouted as he ran. He waved his arms in the air, drawing as much attention as he could. “Swim for it!”

  Almost as though they were one creature, the splisskin in the boats turned to stare at him. Allie turned as well. “Dad!” she shouted back. After a moment of paralysis, she lunged up from her seat and tried to turn and jump off the boat. A snake man clubbed her across the back, knocking her down.

  “No!” Gildor shouted.

  The father drove his feet into the ground to stop himself and drew back his bow. Corian winced; the range was too great for the horse bow and diminutive arrow. He opened his mouth to warn him but he was too late. Gildor released the string and watched the arrow cut an arcing path through the mists.

  “I’ll be damned,” Corian muttered when the splisskin that had struck Ally staggered. He reached down to his thigh where the arrow had lodged itself and yanked it out. The wounded man hissed loud enough for them to hear.

  “Row, you fools! There’s only two of them!”

  Corian jerked his attention to a robed figure that stood in the lead boat. His voice sounded human but in the mists, he couldn’t be sure. The man’s other hand lifted and they began to move back and forth. A chill swept down Corian’s spine.

  “Gildor! That man in the first boat is a wizard!”

  Gildor had started forward again but he stopped at the elf’s warning. He turned and watched the wizard complete his spell by bringing a fist down onto the flat of his other palm. Both human and elf stood still, uncertain of what was supposed to happen.

  Their fears were answered by the water between the boats and them rising up in what looked more like a hill than a wave. The water at the edge of the shore drew back, leaving fish flopping on the ground. The hill of water was driven down like it had been struck by a hammer wielded by a saint. It burst out in a wave almost as tall as Gildor and slammed into the shore. The water kept coming, racing up the bank and knocking the pathfinder off his feet and sweeping him away.

  Corian howled and turned to run. The water was on him before he could take a full step. It grabbed his feet with the strength of a troll. He fell forward and hit the ground just before the water splashed over the rest of his body and pushed him into a nightmare-filled darkness.

  Chapter 16

  Allie stumbled as she was pushed into the room and tried to catch her balance. She couldn’t manage it in time and hit the ground, palms first. She grunted and picked herself up enough to turn and glare at the splisskin that had escorted her through the castle and down into the dungeon.

  The wizard stepped into the doorway. “You said you wouldn’t try to escape,” he accused.

  Allie scoffed and turned over onto her back. “Are you really that stupid? That was my dad!”

  He sneered and said, “Was.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “He’ll come for me again. He’ll kill anyone who gets in his way.”

  The man laughed. “Worry less about us and more about what you’re going to tell your new master when he returns. Please him, and he might let you live as a slave.”

  “Never!”

  “Then pray he kills you quickly.”

  Allie opened her mouth to retort but he turned and stepped away. He made a quick gesture with his hand and the door slammed shut. She not only lost sight of him, but until her eyes adjusted to the meager light that slipped through the small slit in the door, she couldn’t see anything.

  “I didn’t think I’d ever see another person without scales again.”

  Allie gasped and spun around. Against the far wall, she saw the shape of a person. A woman, from her voice. Her voice was soft and almost timid, which matched her small frame.

  “You’re human?” the stranger asked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t get a good look at you.”

  Allie’s heart dropped out of her throat. She climbed to her feet and tried to brush herself off. “I am,” she said. “A human, I mean. You’re not?”

  “I’m an elf.”

  “Oh,” Allie said. A memory of the elf she’d rescued came to her a moment later. “Oh!”

  “Is that bad?”

  Allie shook her head. “Sorry. No, um, it’s not. I met an elf recently. Sort of.”

  The elven woman laughed. “How do you sort of meet an elf? You saw one from a distance?”

  “No, I helped pull him out of a river and we were nursing him back to health before the splisskin came.”

  The woman twitched. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “Me too,” Allie said. “I don’t know if he survived or not. I hid him before they came, but they were burning our village.”

  The woman gasped. “They burned mine too.”

  Allie took a couple of steps closer to her until the elf shifted away. She stopped and asked, “Where are you from?”

  “Glennduril.”

  “I’m from Almont,” Allie said. The elf shook her head so she added, “It’s a small trading village on the Silverflake, near the southern edge of the Deserts of Shazamir.”

  “Shazamir?” the elf whispered.

  Allie tried a smile. “You’ve been there?”

  “Once, many years ago.”

  “I haven’t,” Allie said. “I hoped to travel one day, but my dad and grandpa said I wasn’t ready.”

  “They will probably always say that.”

  Allie scowled. “Tell me about it. They never let me do anything.”

  “That’s not why,” the woman said in a sad voice. “They don’t want to lose you.”

  Allie hugged her arms to herself and nodded. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “It’s true,” the elf whispered.

  “You have, um, family?”

  “I—did. I mean I do. A brother.”

  “That sounds weird.”

  The elf sighed. “Why are you here? Are there others from your village here?”

  “No, just me. They were burning and killing everyone else. My grandpa was fighting them. He’d killed a bunch of the scaly jerks before they knocked me out. I hurt one of them, though.”

  “You look young for a warrior.”

  “I’m not,” Allie said. “My dad was teaching me how to fight and my grandpa got me my own sword. I don’t want to do that, though.”

  The elf nodded. “The world would be better if more people thought like that.”

  “Thanks. So, uh, they knocked me out and didn’t wake me up until we were in the Silverfens. I
still can’t believe what happened.”

  “Your village?”

  “No. Well, yes, that too, but I mean in the swamp. They had a dragon! A real fire-breathing dragon!”

  The elf stayed silent, making Allie suspect that this wasn’t news to her.

  “He asked me something about half-bloods. I don’t even know what a—what’s wrong?”

  “Half-bloods?” the elf asked. “What did he ask you? Try to remember the words.”

  Allie frowned and shook her head. “He threatened me. Um, asked what I knew about them. Half-bloods, I mean. I don’t know what that means. Do you?”

  “Half-breeds,” she whispered. The elf rose from where she was sitting, revealing a frame that was as skinny as Allie thought. “Half-man and half-elf.”

  “Oh!” Allie said. She tilted her head. “Is that even possible?”

  The elf nodded and stared at Allie. “Why ask you? You don’t have any elven blood.”

  “None,” Allie said. “I mean, I don’t think I do. My dad and grandpa—er, my dad is a human. My grandpa’s actually my dad’s uncle. It’s confusing, I know. They’re caravan guards and guides. I never knew my mom; she died in a fire when I was a baby. She lived in Assurion’s Crossing, though, and I don’t think there are, or were, any elves that ever lived there.”

  The elf held up her hand. “What do you father and grandfather do?”

  “Well, Grandpa is the mayor of Almont now, but back when he was younger, he was one of the best caravan guards and guides in our area. My dad learned everything from him and from what I hear, the merchants like him even more.”

  “Who? What are their names?”

  Allie’s brow furrowed. “Why? I mean, it’s no big secret. My dad is Gildor and my grandpa is Bu—”

  “Bucknar.”

  “Holy saints!” Allie cried out. “You know them?”

  The elf nodded. “What is your name, child?”

  “I’m not a child!” Allie snapped. “Well, I mean, I’m sixteen. Old enough to have a family of my own.”

  “But you don’t want that?”

  “Well, no, I guess not. Not now, anyhow. I don’t know what I want. Oh! Sorry, my name. I’m Allisandra, but you can call me Allie. Everyone does.”

  “Allisandra—that’s a pretty name.”

  “What’s yours?”

  “Jillystria,” she said and offered a smile in the darkness. “My brother calls me Jilly. You can too, if you’d like.”

  “Okay, um, thanks. So how do you know my grandpa?”

  “He helped me out a long time ago. Before you were born. Forty years ago.”

  “Wow. You don’t look that old. Grandpa was old but he could still move like a kid when he needed to.”

  The elf’s smile was sad. “I’ve lived more than six score years, Allie.”

  “Whoa!” Allie gawked at her. “That’s—that’s a lot! I mean, wow! How long do elves live?”

  Jilly laughed, making Allie blush. “Several hundred years, saints willing.”

  “Wow, I wish I could live that long.”

  “Be careful what you wish for,” Jilly advised. “It’s not an easy life to live sometimes. It can leave a lot of time to live with regrets.”

  Allie tilted her head, confused by the woman’s statement. “What help did you need?”

  Jilly stared at her long enough Allie started to worry that she hadn’t understood her. She was about to ask again when the elf answered. “I had to deliver something to a family of humans. Your grandfather showed us the way to Mira, in Shazamir.”

  “That sounds kind of sneaky.”

  Jilly let out a sad chuckle. “It was. I gave them my daughter. Her father was their son.”

  Allie’s mouth dropped open. She shook her head and gathered her wits. “You gave them your baby?”

  Jillystria nodded.

  “Didn’t you—I mean, wow. How could you just give her up?”

  The elf shook her head. “Her father died in an accident and I was mad with grief. I listened to the wrong people and let them convince me I was doing the right thing.”

  “Whoa.”

  The elf let out a sigh. “I made a mistake I have regretted ever since.”

  “Um, why didn’t you go and get her then?”

  “I was watched. I couldn’t get away for many years, until they deemed it safe. Now what would I do? Show up and tell an old woman that I’m sorry? She has lived most of her life.”

  “If she’s an elf—won’t she still be young?”

  “Half-elf,” Jilly corrected. “They have lives only a little longer than humans do.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad. I mean, I guess I understand…but I’ve never had a mom and I’d rather know her later than never.”

  Jillystria tilted her head and nodded. She smiled. “You’re a clever girl, Allie. I never thought of it like that.”

  “It’s easy; just put yourself in their shoes. That’s what my dad tells me to do all the time. Especially when I get mad at somebody.”

  “Your father is a wise man. I barely remember him; he was just a little boy and I was so caught up in my own problems.”

  Allie shrugged. “It’s okay. If he was that young, he probably doesn’t remember you either.”

  Jilly nodded. “Perhaps not.”

  “Wait a minute,” Allie gasped. “Half-elf! Half-blood. Is that who the dragon’s looking for?”

  “I don’t know,” the elf answered. “I fear that may be true, but I don’t know.”

  “And they wanted my grandpa but they got me instead. That’s why they didn’t take anyone else?”

  Jilly nodded. “I—I’m sorry.”

  Allie took in a deep breath and let it out. She shook her head and squeezed her arms tighter across her chest. “I don’t—oh saints. This is—why? I didn’t do anything! It wasn’t me, it was—”

  “Allie! Allie—stop. Breathe. Control yourself.”

  Allie jerked her head up to her. “What? Why? Why does it matter? It’s not fair!”

  The elf nodded. “You’re right, it’s not fair. But that’s the life you are living. The only life you are living.”

  Allie took in a shuddering breath. “My grandpa’s dead, isn’t he? That’s why they brought me?”

  Jillystria squeezed her eyes shut and sucked her lip between her teeth. She let her breath out in a rush and said, “I imagine so. I’m sorry, Allie. It was forty years ago. How could we know?”

  “How could you know? You couldn’t!” Allie spat at her. “But you abandoned a helpless baby who had to grow up without a mother. You ruined her life, your life, and now you’ve ruined mine and everyone else who lived in my grandpa’s village!”

  Jillystria’s mouth opened. Whether it was in shock or to respond, Allie didn’t know. She spun away and marched over to the back corner. She sank down, arms still clutched tight to her chest, and tucked her head against the stone wall.

  Chapter 17

  Gildor blew on the sparks in the brown grass until they burst into flames. They spread rapidly, consuming the dried blades and licking at the brittle branches from the scrub bushes he’d torn up. The guide positioned more of the scrub over the growing fire and added the green branches hacked from the trees over the top. The fire would leave a lot of smoke to show their position, but he hoped they were far enough from the swamp along the lakeshore that it wouldn’t matter.

  Corian groaned and then jerked in his sleep. Gildor watched him thrashing and kicking. The elf began to grasp at his chest with his hands and tug at his shirt like he was trying to tear it away. Gildor glanced at the fire again and then stood to walk over to the elf. Corian’s hands jerked up and he began to press them against his throat until his skin began to bulge.

  “Saints, what’s wrong with you?” Gildor grumbled before he dropped to his knees beside the elf and tried to pry his hands away. Corian fought back in his sleep, struggling to keep his hands on his throat.

  Fed up with the struggle and worried that somehow the elf
would strangle himself, Gildor hauled back and slapped him. Corian’s head twisted from the blow and, for a moment, Gildor wasn’t sure if it had done any good. The elf twisted back and flung his arms out, pushing and punching at the man.

  Gildor lurched back. Corian’s eyes were open but he had a desperate and panicked snarl on his face. “Corian! Knock it off—you’re safe.”

  Corian jerked his head back and forth, his eyes searching the blue skies and then going to the coarse sand on the beach and the grasses behind him. Finally he looked at Gildor and blinked several times. “What happened?”

  “We got washed into the lake,” Gildor said. “Damn wizard nearly drowned us. I got free and found you half-dead in the water. Dragged you along the shore until Patches and Brownie heard me whistling and came running by. You been out of it all along.”

  “Where are we?”

  “East of the Silverfens,” Gildor said. “On Lake Silvermist. Half a day’s ride from Easton, more or less.”

  The elf sat up and looked at the fire. He moved closer to it and held out his hands to warm them. “They got away?”

  Gildor nodded. He didn’t speak because he wasn’t sure what to say.

  Corian sighed. “Damn. That was a good shot, by the way. I didn’t think that little bow could do it.”

  Gildor frowned and then allowed a quick smirk. “Lucky shot.”

  “If I’d had my bow, I could have stopped that wizard,” Corian said. “I’m sorry I lost it.”

  “Me too,” Gildor mumbled. He knelt down and started tending the fire, coaxing the flames to eat into the green wood.

  “What now?” Corian asked.

  Gildor responded without bothering to look up. “We go after them.”

  “I know that. I meant how? We don’t have a boat. And we’ve lost another half a day.”

  “Been thinking on that,” Gildor said. “We can find a boat and some people desperate enough in Easton.”

  “Desperate enough? That doesn’t sound like the people we want.”

  “Don’t have a choice,” the human said. “I don’t like it, but I don’t have much gold to spare.”

  Corian reached down to his belt and patted his pouches. “I have some. Not much, but if it helps, I will offer it. You’ve saved my life now too, it seems. I am thrice indebted to your family.” He opened up one and pulled out the wooden scroll case. “Hello, I forgot about you.”