The sun shone brightly in the clear sky, and a strong wind pushed them north. The mood on deck was merry. The crew hadn’t stopped telling tales of their time in Elladrindellia, and for the men, it seemed that every last one of them had fallen in love with an elven maiden.
Crag came to stand beside Talon, who was as usual standing at the rail looking north. The big man looked to be the only one not on top of the world.
“What’s wrong, Crag?”
“Nothin’.”
“Come on, buddy. I can tell something’s bothering you,” said Talon, having to crane his head up to look the big man in the eye.
“You can?” said Crag, both surprised and alarmed.
Talon nodded, and Crag let out a sigh. “I miss the elf country.”
“What do you miss most about it?” Talon asked.
Crag scrunched up his face, as though it was hard to think about. “Well, it’s so quiet there. I feel like I can think in a place like that. And everything is so peaceful. There ain’t no hateful eyes. And nobody treats you like you’re stupid.”
Talon felt bad for not thinking more about Crag. The big-hearted man might have been able to stay behind with Gretzen. He wasn’t made for the life of a freedom fighter.
“Maybe one day we’ll return. Maybe one day you and I could live there,” said Talon, hoping to cheer up the big man.
“You thinkin’ so?” Crag asked, even getting down to Talon’s level to study his eyes.
“Yeah,” said Talon with a laugh. “I’m thinkin’ so.”
“Feikinstafir…” said Crag, before quickly slapping his hands over his mouth.
Talon laughed all the harder.
“Sorry,” said Crag, blushing.
“It is perfectly alright,” said Talon. “Like my amma says, ‘sometimes curse words are the only words worth using.’”
“That’s pretty,” said Crag, suddenly moving toward the rail.
“What’s that?” Talon asked, trying to look past the big man.
Crag turned around. “Look Tal. The clouds are like water.”
Talon saw what crag meant as the big man turned to the side. The clouds in front of the ship rippled and moved like heat phantoms. A dread suddenly filled him.
Before Talon could give warning, a net suddenly appeared over Crag’s shoulder. It hit him square, covering him, and the big man went down with a terrified cry.
Talon instinctively reached for the timber wolf trinket, but another net came out of nowhere and wrapped itself around him tightly. Before he could cry out, he was taken up by big talons and whisked off the deck of Freedom.
Behind him, he heard the cries of the crewmen growing more distant as the ocean sped by below him. He tried to reach the trinket, but the net and talons held him so tightly it was hard to breathe, let alone move. Searching frantically, he tried to see what manner of beast it was that had snatched him up. But he could see nothing above him, nor could he see the talons that held him.
“Let me go!” he yelled feebly.
Kyrr flared, and he cried out as he pushed to free his arms. The ropes began to creak and give way, but then something struck his neck, a quick, sharp pain like a bee sting. Talon felt the effects instantly and tried to free himself one last time before passing out.
***
He came to sometime later, but again a dart found his exposed flesh and he slept.
When he awoke once more, he found that he was no longer hanging precariously over the ocean. He was in a forest, bound with ropes and chained to a thick tree stump. His weapons were gone, and he could feel neither Kyrr nor the trinket in his pocket. Dread washed over him. Then his eyes caught sight of something that he could not believe—a silver hawk the likes of which he had seen in Azzeal’s cave of dreams.
On closer inspection, he discovered that there were a half dozen silver hawks and as many riders standing beside their mounts.
“Well met, Talon Windwalker,” said a man as he approached. He wore tight leather armor with a silver-feathered cloak that hooded his head and reached to his feet. When he knelt to peer at him, Talon was met by deep brown eyes and a weathered face. A brown beard covered a proud chin, above which the man held a grin. He looked to be in his fifties. “You are a very hard young man to track down.”
“Where am I?”
“Western Shierdon, near the forests of Sidnell.”
“Who are you?”
The man bowed slightly. “Han Ford at your service,” he said, crouching before Talon.
“Why am I tied up? Where are my things? Why did you…apprehend me?”
“You are tied up because you are a very dangerous Skomm. And you were apprehended because you are very much a wanted man. Did you know that there is a dwarf king’s fortune of ransom promised for your capture?”
Talon studied the man, trying to figure a way out of his predicament. If he could only reach Chief…
“Lucky for you, I am not a bounty hunter,” said Han.
“You’re…you’re a hawk rider,” said Talon.
“Indeed. One of Shierdon’s finest, eh boys?” said Han, turning to grin at his fellows. They grinned and chuckled.
“Who sent you for me? Fylkin?”
“We don’t work for that bacraut,” said Han, grinning at Talon’s reaction to the Vald word. “No, it is my king who finds interest in you. Me and the crew here have been tasked with bringing you before him…unharmed. You are to be his guest. He knows much about the woman you seek…Akerri.”
“I know he doesn’t have her. So your promises will not work on me,” said Talon.
“I never claimed as much. No, he does not have her. But he did. As you must know, affairs between Shierdon and Volnoss are tentative at best. War is brewing. My good king traded Akerri for Wolf Tribe’s favor.”
“He gave her to Fylkin!” said Talon, enraged. “I suppose the bacraut wants to sell me too. Is that it?”
“Please,” said Han. “There is no need to be uncivilized. This is only business.”
“You ask me to be civil,” said Talon, “yet you net me, drug me, and whisk me off to the mainland where you bind me yet again, steal my belongings, and then train weapons on me. Perhaps you are the one who should be civil,” said Talon.
“I apologize,” said Han. “Untie him.”
Two hawk riders went around to the back of the stump and untied Talon’s binding. He rubbed his wrists and stood before Han bravely.
“I’ve done what you asked. I’m being civil. Now please tell me what your king wants with me. I’ve important business and have no wish to speak to the man who sold off Akerri.”
“You must distance yourself from your tumultuous emotions for a moment,” said Han. “You must understand that this is only business. If my king could have sold you to Fylkin, he would have. But alas, you proved harder to obtain than your lady friend. And so now here we are. And you have a choice to make. The king has a proposition for you. One that I believe you will want to hear. After you hear what he has to say, you can do what you want. We shall even fly you north to meet your crew. It will take them the better part of a week to reach Timber Wolf Tribe anyway.”
Talon tried not to show his surprise at Han’s knowledge.
“What of the charges against me? Like you say, I am a wanted man…in more than one kingdom.”
“My liege cares not for such trivial things. It is well understood that you did what any man would do in your position. If anything, it shows him that you are not afraid to kill.”
Talon wondered what he was getting at and debated what his next move should be. He was intrigued by Han’s offer, and his mind reminded him of the image of Akerri running toward him as he stood beside a silver hawk, like the giant birds before him.
His amma would call this a sign.
“Very well. I will see your king. But I want my things back,” said Talon.
“You will not be going before my king armed,” said Han.
“I don’t want my weapons. You have taken a ring
from me, as well as an heirloom that is dear to me.”
“You speak of the wolf carving,” said Han, watching him closely. “It resembles the supposed ghost wolf that fights with you.”
Talon laughed. “And you believe such ridiculous tales?”
“I doubt that I would, had I not seen it with my own eyes.”
Talon sobered quickly. He knew that the figurine must be nearby, but he could not summon Chief if he wasn’t in contact with it. He had asked his amma why she made it so, and she had told him that he grounded the figurine, making it possible for the doorway to the other side to open.
He watched the group, noting how they became more alert at the mention of the powerful trinket.
“I also saw you throw a man twice your size across the deck of a ship. That is an impressive elven ring that you have. But fret not. I do not plan on stealing it or your wolf. My king has other plans.”
Talon didn’t believe him. Just like Tyson, Han or one of his men would be seduced by the power of his magical items, and they would try to use them.
“We are not thieves,” said Han. “If the king deems it so, then your things shall be returned to you. Until then, you will accompany us to Belldon Island.”
“Very well,” said Talon, really having no other choice in the matter.
Han provided him with a silver hawk named Brightwing, and Talon looked to the man, wondering what he was about—being that Brightwing was Akerri’s Vald name, he found it quite suspect. But Han showed no knowledge of the coincidence and rather instructed him on how to mount and ride upon the beast.
It turned out that silver hawks were quite fickle about who road upon their backs. Therefore, it took more than an hour for Talon to successfully mount Brightwing. But in the end, the silver hawk craned her neck and allowed his feet into the stirrups.
“Don’t forget this,” said Han, tossing him a silver hawk feathered cloak. “It is made from Brightwing’s molted feathers, and will hide you from prying eyes.”
Talon put it on, quite enchanted by it all.
Chapter 20
King Donarron
Is strange for me, to imagine the boy shaking hands with kings. I saw much of his life, years ago, but never did I understand how the very heavens would seem to move for him. He once thought himself cursed. I disagreed then, and I disagree now. If anything, he is blessed. Princesses ally themselves with him. Queens gift him with fine weapons. And kings seek to employ him. Ever does the boy amaze me.
-Gretzen Spiritbone
“Mount up!” Han told the men.
Soon the many silver hawks were leaping from the glade and rising into the clear blue sky. Talon spurred his mount, and she too took to the sky, leaping high and extending long wings that took them over the treetops with but a few beats. As they rose higher and higher still, Talon felt the urge to cry out, both in terror and excitement. He soared over the land on the back of the silver hawk, barely able to breathe against the wind, and clutching the reins with white-knuckled fists. He gave a cry when Brightwing barrel-rolled with the others. Had it not been for the thick saddle strap, he would have surely fallen to his death.
Brightwing soon leveled out, however, and the hawks moved into a diamond formation. Han flew to Talon’s right, looking very much amused by Talon’s excitement.
“How are you faring?” the man yelled against the wind, and Talon barely heard what he said.
“This is amazing!” Talon yelled.
Han gave a laugh and blew a whistle twice. The silver hawks responded by climbing higher, until they had burst through the thin clouds hanging overhead.
Talon marveled at the view. The land stretched out for miles in all directions. He saw rivers, forests, and valleys, as well as distant towns and villages. Ever the ocean could be seen back the way they had come. From his vantage point, everything looked so small that Talon was humbled. Fields covered the land in neat, square patterns, and even the largest of the villages appeared to be tiny. The people moving about within were hardly recognizable, and seemed to Talon like ants. He thought then that this must be how the gods view the world.
He followed the group steadily west for many hours, and when the sun began to set behind them, Lake Eardon loomed before them, stretching nearly all the way to the distant horizon. So large was it that Talon might have thought it an ocean had he not known his geography.
They flew over the lake as darkness found the world. Stars blazed to life in the clear sky, so many that Talon was overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of it all. The moon soon joined them, illuminating the waters below with silver light. As they reached the island, Han used his whistle once more. At the command, the silver hawks’ feathers returned to their natural color.
At the center of Belldon Island, a large castle loomed over the surrounding city. Its spiraling towers jutted from the high battlements, reaching many stories above the wide wall.
Han led the group to the courtyard at the center of the castle grounds, and one by one the silver hawks touched down. Talon surveyed the surrounding castle as Brightwing landed among the others. Seeing the high towers from the ground was even more impressive than from on high.
A group of ten guards met them in the courtyard, and many eyes fell on Talon.
“I see that you have found the elusive Windwalker,” said the most decorated of the men.
“Inform the king that he is here. He will be eager to meet with our new guest.”
The soldier’s eyes lingered on Talon, sizing him up. Apparently he wasn’t much impressed by what he saw, for he sneered slightly before turning with a smart click of his heels and marching off.
Talon was escorted by Han and the others through an open-aired walkway. They came to a large iron door that opened as they approached, and stepping through the threshold, Talon was amazed yet again by the grandeur of the castle, which made Vaka Kastali look like a shack.
They waited silently outside the audience chamber of the king of Shierdon, until finally the doors opened, and a man in crimson robes beckoned them forth. The audience chamber was longer than it was wide, and lined on both sides with benches, some twenty in all. At the other end of the room was a raised dais with a large throne that looked to be made of pure silver. A man who looked to be in his early twenties sat upon the throne, and perked up when Talon was led to stand before him.
“The infamous Talon Windwalker,” said the king. “What a pleasure it is to finally meet you. I am King Donarron.”
Talon said nothing. He did not bow; he did not so much as blink. He stared down the man who had sold Akerri, wanting to slit his throat.
“You will bow before the king,” said the guard who had led him in.
Talon ignored him, to the amusement of the king.
“You look as though you would like to slit my throat,” said Donarron. “I cannot say that I blame you. Surely you are sore about my sale of Akerri to Fylkin.”
Talon felt his nostrils flare, and hot anger making his ears red.
“Why did you sell her to that monster?” Talon asked.
“I have been negotiating with Timber Wolf Tribe since my father died two years ago. We have nearly come to an agreement on a new peace treaty, but Chief Winterthorn of Timber Wolf Tribe has proven a stubborn one. The other six tribes have agreed to the treaty, under the condition that the decision is unanimous. However, Winterthorn continues to hold out. I gave Akerri to his son Fylkin in an attempt to sway his decision in my favor. He promised that he would sign the treaty if I gave up the girl, but alas, he has gone back on his word.”
“What do you want from me?” Talon asked.
King Donarron grinned. “I want you to kill Winterthorn and his son. I want you to help your father to become chief of Timber Wolf Tribe, and then I want him to sign the treaty.”
“Help Kreal?” said Talon, shocked. “I’ve never even spoken to my father, and you want me to fight alongside him against Winterthorn?”
“I’m sure that can be remedied. Your father is a perf
ect candidate. He is well respected among the other Vald, and he saved the entire island from the frozen plague sixteen years ago. I believe that the two of you can accomplish this task.”
“I just want Akerri back,” said Talon. “If you cannot help me with that, then we have nothing more to speak about. I would like my things, and I would like to leave.”
“You have not heard my offer, young Windwalker,” said the king. “Not only will I help you to get her back, but I will help you to liberate the Skomm.”
Talon was speechless. Seeing this, the king grinned and added, “Or you can leave now. The choice is yours.”
“How can I trust you?” Talon asked.
“Unlike Chieftain Winterthorn, I am a man of my word,” said Donarron.
Talon considered the offer, which was tempting. Still, he dreaded the prospect of speaking to Kreal. His father would never go along with such a plan…or would he? Amma Gretzen often said that Kreal had wanted nothing more than to challenge Winterthorn, though he lacked a strong heir, which was a requirement for such a challenge.
“Even if you help to free my people, where would we go?”
“Have you ever heard of Eldon Island?” Donarron asked.
Talon tried to picture the map of Agora that Gretzen had somehow gained possession of long ago. “It is a small island south of Eldalon, if I remember correctly.”
“Yes, and do you know who owns it?”
“You do,” said Talon, becoming excited.
“Indeed. I purchased it from the king of Eldalon a year ago. Eldon is a mostly barren island, much like your Volnoss. But I have no doubt that your people could flourish there in peace.”
Excitement washed through Talon as he imagined such a thing. It seemed as though all of his wishes were being answered. Still, he told himself to tread cautiously.
“You wish for me to help my father to become Chief so that you might have your precious treaty. Why then would you help the Skomm escape? Surely liberating the slave class is not a part of this treaty of yours.”
“You need not worry yourself with such questions. Once you have freed your people, what do you care what happens to the Vald?”
Exodus: The Windwalker Archive: Book 3 (Legends of Agora) Page 10
