Exodus
The Windwalker Archive
Book 3
Michael James Ploof
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Other Books
By
Michael James Ploof
Legends of Agora
Whill of Agora
(Now a USA TODAY Best Seller)
The Windwalker Archive
Blackthorn
Urban Fantasy Series
The Orion Rezner Chronicles
Map of Agora
Copyright © 2016 Michael James Ploof
All rights reserved
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Southern Seas
I see the girl. Eyes like flame to match her hair, to match her spirit. Why those eyes burn red, the spirits will not say. I fear for the girl, for a shadow stands behind her.
-Gretzen Spiritbone
Talon stood at the helm of Freedom, watching the moon, wondering if Akerri was out there somewhere watching it as well.
“I’m coming for you, Akerri. Just a little longer,” he said to the night.
They were in the deep south below Uthen-Arden, heading east. The night was hot and sticky, typical for this climate. Talon had never experienced such extreme heat. Even now, with the summer months waning slowly into fall, the weather was sweltering. Surprisingly, Talon found himself missing the cooler weather of the north. One could always cover up or seek out fire in the cold, but there was no relief from the insufferable heat of the south. It was even worse below deck where there was no wind, and the smell of hundreds of unwashed bodies hung thick in the humid quarters.
“Beautiful night,” said Argath as he approached. He limped across the quarter deck, supporting himself with a cane and favoring his left leg, having lost a few toes on the right foot to Captain McGillus’s rat torture.
“It is. Out here on the calm waters, one would never imagine what a violent world it is out there,” said Talon.
“Indeed. Violence is a thing of nature. It shapes the world and those in it. It makes us stronger.”
“That sounds like something a Vald would say,” said Talon.
Argath stood beside him at the rail, and Talon could see him staring in his peripheral. “It is the truth of the world,” said Argath, and he looked out over the ocean as well. “You of all people should know that.”
Talon glanced up at the shimmering stars. “Do you ever think that this is all just for the amusement of the gods?”
“Perhaps. If so, then we must be amusing them greatly,” said Argath with a small laugh.
Talon was reminded of his amma’s claim that he had thwarted Thodin himself. She said that the god of gods had sent the frozen plague to take his life, and after that, the storm that had pulled Akerri into the ocean.
“The men believe that you were sent by the gods, that you have their favor. They would follow you to the ends of the earth,” said Argath.
“What do you believe?”
“I believe that if it helps them to find courage and strength, then it is a good thing, true or not.”
“I guess everyone needs something to believe in besides themselves,” said Talon.
“Captain! There is a ship on the eastern horizon!” yelled one of the crewman from the crow’s nest above.
Talon peered closer at the horizon but saw nothing in the darkness. The moon was half full and provided some light, but not enough for him to see so far out.
Argath turned from the helm and began barking orders as Talon hurriedly climbed the mast to join the lookout.
“Where is it?” he asked the man.
“There,” said the sailor as he handed over the spyglass.
Talon focused in on the spot on the horizon. At first he saw nothing, but then the faraway billowing sails came into view. He looked hard for a flag but could not make it out this far off.
“What we got?” Argath asked from below.
“Can’t see a flag. But she’s a big ship, three-mast.”
Men began to rush up from below deck to man their stations. Down below, the others would be preparing the ballista and cannons.
Talon hurried down the mast and took out his timber wolf figurine. “Come to me, Chief,” he said, holding it out before him.
Blue sparkling light swirled out of the figurine, and soon Chief was standing beside him, looking up with a wolf grin.
“We might have trouble, boy.”
Chief gave a bark and spun a circle.
“Captain, she’s flying the colors of Uthen-Arden,” said the lookout.
“Navy?”
“No, she ain’t a naval vessel from what I can tell.”
“Alright men,” said Argath. “Be ready for anything. Helmsman, keep her on our port side.”
“Aye, aye, cap’n!”
“You think they’re going to give us trouble?” Talon asked Argath.
“I’m not for knowin’. But if they do, gods help ‘em.”
Chapter 2
Cold Justice
I know that I have done the right thing. Even now, waiting for the elders to pass judgement, I am confident in my decisions. I fear not my fate, for my life has been long and full of wonder. What I fear most is that I have thrust a boy into a man’s war. I have saved the boy, this is true, but in the end I did not do it for him as much as for the Skomm. This truth alone burdens my heart with unease. For the boy will be haunted by the faces of the dead his entire life. His heart, once bright and true, will be darkened by the disease of violence and war.
-Azzeal, Keeper of the Windwalker Archive
The ship grew closer as the sun began to rise behind it, making it quite hard to see against the glare coming off the water.
“Keep it in your sights!” said Argath.
“They’re heading our way!” said the lookout.
“Look alive, men. If they want a fight, then we’re going to give ‘em one!”
“Let ‘em come!” Gammond cried. “I’ll skin ‘em alive and wear their fur.”
“They don’t have fur, you ignorant Skomm,” he said in another voice, that of Gill.
“Steady, Gammond,” said Talon, eyeing the lunatic. The man made him nervous, for one never knew which personality would surface at any given moment. One minute you were having an intelligent conversation with Gill, and the next you were being hollered at by the ever agitated and twitchy Gammond.
Talon rather liked Gill, the personality who thought he was a nobleman, but Gammond gave him the creeps.
“I seen that ship before, that’s a feikin slaver!” yelled one of the men.
“You sure about that, Whitewing?” Argath asked.
“I’m sure. There ain’t no mistaking the pattern on that sail. Seen it docked outside Dragon Village on more than one occasion.”
“Well then, it’s our lucky day,” said Argath. “Prepare to fight!”
The crew hooted and whistled, eyes alight and eager for battle.
“You and that wolf of yours ready?” Argath asked Talon. “We’ve got to take the ship without destroying her. There are likely Skomm below deck in her holds, so we can’t risk the dragon’s breath cannons.”
“What do you have in mind?” Talon asked, his heart skipping a beat, both out of fear and excitement.
Chi
ef wagged his tail and watched the captain as well, panting happily.
“We’re still flying McGillus’s flag,” said Argath. “As long as they don’t get suspicious, we should be able to get close enough for a surprise boarding party. Chief there can cause a good distraction, I’m thinking. Stir ‘em up a bit.”
Talon looked to Chief, who seemed to understand, for he gave a bark and spun a circle.
“Alright,” said Talon. “We can do that.”
Argath nodded and turned to the crew. In the distance beyond the glare of the rising sun, the slave ship was fast approaching. “Alright, listen up. That slaver is from Uthen-Arden. Given that it is coming from the east, I reckon it came south from Volnoss. There are likely to be hundreds of Skomm slaves on board, so the cannons are out of the question.”
“How we gonna take the ship without harpoons and cannons?” one of the men asked.
“Windwalker and I’ve got a plan.” Argath told them all how they were going to take the ship, meanwhile, Talon noticed the look on Crag’s face.
The big man stood next to the main mast, nervously shuffling around, trying to look busy.
“You alright?” Talon asked as he approached.
“Crag don’t like warring, not real warring anyway. Me and my brother used to play-act at warring, but nobody ever got hurt. Well, except that one time, one time I—”
“You can go down below deck if you want. No one is forcing you to fight,” said Talon.
Crag looked around at the other men, all eager to enter the fray. Most were untrained men and women who had been slaves up until a week ago, but they had eaten well as of late, and freedom had lit a fire inside their spirits that was infectious. Twelve of house McGillus’s gladiators remained as well, including Talon, and even the healer Demoore had come up on deck.
“You best stay downstairs,” Argath told the healer. “We don’t need you getting hurt in the scuffle. There’s only the one of you, after all.”
Demoore offered the captain a withering glare, still, he shouldered his crossbow and turned on his heel. “Aye aye, Captain.”
“Wait,” said Talon. “Could you use Crag’s help?”
“Crag’s help?” said Demoore. “That some kind of joke?”
Talon looked to Argath, and the captain must have read his mind, for he said, “I think that is a good idea. Go on down below with the doctor and help him when the injured come in.”
“Yes, Captain Folkhagi,” said Crag with many small bows. “You be careful,” he added.
“Thanks,” Talon told Argath.
“Not a mean bone in his body, that one. He’d just be in the way.”
The slave ship was now less than two hundred yards away and slowing down considerably. Argath had ordered the anchor dropped, which left Freedom bobbing in the mellow waters lazily.
The gladiators waited, perched at different heights along the tall masts, ready to hook the slavers masts and swing over when the word was given. The other Skomm waited in the captain’s quarters and just below the hold doors, ready to spring when the time came.
Talon sat huddled with Chief behind the port rail. Argath stood tall at the center of the ship, flanked on each side by Skomm gladiators.
“Ho there!” came the cheery greeting from the other ship as it approached.
The signal was given, and Talon let loose Chief.
The wolf turned to mist and then disappeared altogether. A few heartbeats later there came the first of the screams.
Argath gave the order to the waiting gladiators, and they threw their hooked lines across the expanse between ships. Soon they were swinging across, covered by archers who sent a barrage into the deck. Talon leapt from his spot and ran to the other side of the ship. A catapult at each end of the ship shot long spears into the slaver, and Skomm teams began pulling the ships together slowly. The gap was more than ten feet, but Talon was convinced that with Kyrr’s power, he could make it.
Seven swift steps brought him across the deck, and he leapt off the rail, sailed through the air with daggers gleaming, and cleared the rail of the slaver. Coming down in a roll, he sprang up and stabbed the closest Agoran sailor in the back of the leg.
The deck of the slaver was chaos; Chief zipped around the ship, solidifying here and there to claw and bite. On Talon’s command he killed no one, still, he found ways to take many of the sailors out of the fight without doing so. The gladiators took full advantage of the distraction, but they, unlike Chief, had no qualms about killing the slavers.
Talon disarmed a man with a slash to his forearm and swiped his legs. A sailor with a long curved blade charged from the left, causing Talon to twirl away from the strike. When the blade went out wide, he darted back toward the man, using the power of Kyrr to propel him the distance in the blink of an eye. His daggers found flesh, slashing the man’s wrist, bicep, and shoulder.
He was knocked off balance when the two ships crashed together. Talon caught a hold of one of the masts and countered an attacker. Behind him, the Skomm had begun to pour onto the slaver.
Talon disarmed his opponent and knocked him out with a powerful uppercut before charging at the back of a man raising his sword high for the kill. At his feet lay an injured Skomm woman. Talon stabbed him in the back and twirled him around, blocking the sword that came and slamming his elbow into the enemy’s surprised face.
Soon the Skomm overwhelmed the Agorans, and Argath claimed the ship. He asked for the captain to identify himself once the survivors were rounded up. A man cradling his bloody arm stood and said, “He fell. I am second in command.”
“What is your name, sailor?”
“Gregory Scott.”
“How many Skomm slaves do you have on this ship, Scott?”
“Nearly three hundred.”
“Get our people out of the holds!” Argath ordered his men.
“You won’t get away with this,” said Gregory, warily eyeing Chief, who paced the line of slavers and growled low.
“You are in no position to make threats,” said Argath.
Talon ran to the hold and peered through the bars. The stench of unwashed bodies wafted up through the grate, and there in the darkness, he saw the dirty, terrified faces of his people. He unlatched the grate and swung it open.
“You’re free,” he told the weary-looking Skomm. “Come, there is food and drink to be had.”
He took hold of a young woman’s hand, and she looked to him with gratitude.
“It’s you,” she said. “Windwalker…”
Talon caught the half-naked woman in his arms as she passed out, and his hand became wet with blood from her recent whipping. Others took up her proclamation, and soon the names Talon Windwalker and Krellr Troda were being murmured down in the dark depths. The Skomm came forward out of the hold slowly, awed by Talon and looking upon him like a god come to life. Many of them fell to the deck and bowed before him, whispering thanks between shuddering prayers.
“Thank you, you blessed, blessed man,” said a woman as she clung to his arm.
“You’re welcome…”
“Blessed be the gods. Oh thank Thodin for you, Talon,” said another.
Soon a large crowd had gathered around him, grabbing, clutching and pulling him in every direction. Men hugged him and women kissed his cheeks. Soon Talon found himself overwhelmed by the crowd of sycophants crying and praying at his feet.
“Alright, alright,” said his friend, Torrance. “Let the man breathe. Come on, break it up. There is food and drink waiting for you on the other ship.”
At the mention of food, most of the Skomm began making their way across to Freedom.
“Thanks,” said Talon. He wanted to get away from the hold before more of his admirers came up, so he nudged Torrance and moved to the other side of the ship, where Captain Argath had ordered all the captors be brought.
“What’s going on here?” he asked Argath, noticing that some twenty captured sailors were being bound at the ankles and wrists and stood precar
iously close to the rail.
“A little payback,” said Gammond as he tied off a knot none too gently.
“You mean to throw them overboard?” Talon pressed, forcing Argath to look at him.
“It’s justice, Windwalker. Besides, I’m not dragging these bastards around in the hold, feeding them, watering them.” He spat over the rail.
“This is murder,” said Talon.
“Is it? They just bought these people. Bought them! Like they were animals, and then they herded them into that filthy pen like cattle. This is justice. But that’s not all. You want to see what they did to the prettier ones? Go down and ask Demoore to see the one who was in the captain’s quarters. She was beaten and raped so many times she cannot even stand. She just sits and stares.”
“We can bring them back to Isladon to be tried,” said Talon.
“Look, Talon, go back to the other ship if you can’t stomach it. These men will die for their crimes against our people, and they will die today.”
Talon glanced around at the group: Styggr, Eaglewind, Aegir, Foxfire, Brakk, even Torrence looked to him patiently, as though understanding would come to him at any moment.
“Listen, what they did was wrong, we all know that, and they’ll pay for their crimes. But this, this is murder. It isn’t right when they do it, and it isn’t right for us to do it. Killing another man in defense is one thing, but these men have already been defeated.”
“And what would you suggest we do with them, eh?” Styggr asked, pushing past the others to get in Talon’s face. “You heard the captain, we ain’t feeding ‘em.”
Talon ignored him and turned back to Argath.
The captain seemed to be pondering. His eyes never left Talon’s, but moved from one to the other. “Let me ask you one question, and then you tell me what we should do with them. What happened when you let Fylkin live?”
Exodus: The Windwalker Archive: Book 3 (Legends of Agora) Page 1
