Exodus: The Windwalker Archive: Book 3 (Legends of Agora) (22 page)

The distraction had afforded Kreal a chance to attack, and he lunged forward, stabbing the chief in the side. The blade exploded through the other side, and Winterthorn gave a cry.

Fylkin roared as he charged across the circle, ignoring Talon completely when he saw his father impaled. Kreal pulled back the blade in time to meet Fylkin’s attack, but the furious Vald struck so fast that he soon had Kreal’s blade out wide, and brought his sword up and across Kreal’s chest. Blood sprayed from the wide gash, and Kreal went down.

“Father!” Talon cried and charged the chiefson as he brought back his sword for the killing blow.

He collided with Fylkin, and they went tumbling off to the side. Hate and rage boiled in Talon’s veins. He sprang to his feet and blocked an overhead strike with his short sword, quickly thrusting it out wide and lunging forward with his dagger, which found Fylkin’s upper chest. Fylkin took a defensive stance and clutched his chest, but Talon only attacked harder, slapping the sword away and striking again and again with his dagger. Fylkin managed to knock the short sword out of Talon’s hand, but he still had the dagger, and brought it down and slashed Fylkin’s wrist, nearly severing the hand. Fylkin dropped the sword and grabbed ahold of Talon’s wrist and twisted it back. Talon’s bone snapped in his forearm, and he was forced to drop the dagger. Fylkin fell upon him, grabbing him by the neck and driving him to the ground. Stars danced in Talon’s vision as the screaming chiefson choked the life out of him. In a rush of panic, Talon reached up and grabbed Fylkin’s face, and thrust his thumb into his right eye as hard as he could. He felt the eye give way as his thumb plunged deeper into Fylkin’s skull. The choking hand released him, and Fylkin reared back drunkenly, screaming all the while.

Talon saw then the eyeball dangling from the bloody socket. He got to his feet, and with three powerful strides slammed Fylkin at the waist and drove him to the ground. Pinning the chiefson’s good arm with his knee, he began raining down heavy blows. Over and over again he struck, until Fylkin’s nose was crushed and his teeth were shattered and broken. Panting, Talon got off the groaning and bleeding man and searched the dirt for his short sword.

He found it not far away and returned to stand over his defeated foe. Talon looked to the shocked Vald standing by. He raised the blade high and buried it up to the hilt in Fylkin’s heart.

The crowd was suddenly deathly silent.

Talon turned from the dead man and found his father trying to get to his feet. He was clutching his chest and leaning on his long sword.

“Father!” said Talon, running to help.

He took Kreal under the arm and bore enough weight for him to stand.

Chief Winterthorn was on his knees in a pool of blood with his sword in hand, though he seemed not to have the strength to lift it. He took quick shallow breaths and wavered, looking as though he might fall over at any moment.

Kreal pushed Talon gently away and limped over to stand before the chief.

“Do you have last words before I send you to Val’Kharae?” he asked.

Winterthorn looked at Kreal’s many wounds and sneered. “You will follow me soon enough.”

“Yes,” said Kreal. “Which will make Talon the new chief.”

Winterthorn’s grin disappeared in a heartbeat, and a look of horror found his eyes.

Kreal severed his head with one swift blow.

The tale Talon told the Skomm and Vald may not have been far from the truth. Thodin is a strange one, indeed; who can understand why the gods do what they do? They are not like us. I know not why Thodin took my Ragnar and tried to take the boy. I know not why he seems to smile down on him now. Perhaps it is because Talon Windwalker, born Vald and deemed Skomm, will become the most legendary barbarian of Volnoss.

-Gretzen Spiritbone

Chief Winterthorn’s head rolled down the slight decline, coming to rest before the shocked Vald standing across from the Skomm.

Kreal fell to his knees, and Talon was there to catch him. Blood flowed freely from the slashes on Kreal’s back and across his chest.

“Bring the healers!” Talon cried. When no one moved, he got up and pointed a shaking hand at the Vald. “Kreal Winterthorn is now your chief, and I am now the chiefson. Do as I say, bring the healers!”

The Vald finally snapped into action, and many men and women in healer’s robes emerged from the crowd. Kreal was taken up and whisked away to a healing house, leaving Talon standing between the Vald and the Skomm.

“These Skomm are not to be harmed!” he told the Vald, even pointing his short sword at them.

The Vald shared glances, and one stepped forward and spit on the ground. “Piss on tradition. You’re no chiefson of mine!”

He and half a dozen others produced weapons and began stalking toward Talon. He stood his ground and prepared for another fight. But as the lead Vald broke into a running charge, a crossbow bolt found his forehead, killing him instantly. Another crossbow twanged, and then another, and in a heartbeat two more of the stalking Vald fell to the ground dead. Talon looked up at the sky like so many others. He grinned to himself, knowing that Han and the riders had his back.

Talon strode forth boldly as the remaining Vald began to stagger back, looking from the bodies to the sky and back again. Many of the Vald made the symbol of Thodin, which gave Talon an idea. He called over Chief, who stood beside him, teeth bared and hair spiked along his spine.

He growled low.

“I have been blessed by Thodin!” said Talon, opening his arms wide. “Strike out against me, and you shall anger the god of gods.” Talon looked to the sky, hoping that Han could hear him, and hoping that he had a dragon’s breath bomb left to use. “Thodin, o’ father of the Vald. Smite those who would challenge your will!”

Nothing happened, and the Vald who had been backing off stood their ground. Then suddenly an explosion blinded and deafened everyone within a stone’s throw. When Talon dared look again, he found a smoldering crater where the would-be assassins had stood. The crowds of both Vald and Skomm were on their knees, offering Talon their fealty.

“These Skomm have been deemed worthy! Thodin would see Timber Wolf Tribe strong. He has spoken to me through the spirit of the timber wolf. I am his instrument. I am his will. The Skomm are to be clothed, fed, and armed. The other tribes will be coming soon. We must be prepared.”

Talon watched their reactions, hoping that they would buy the ridiculous tale. They were not stupid people, but they were very superstitious. And Talon had just smote men with fire from the sky.

As one, they bowed before him.

“Now go. Do Thodin’s bidding.”

To his amazement, they did as they were told.

Just then a Skomm man tapped Talon on the shoulder. When he turned, the man shot his eyes downward. “Excuse me, Folkhagi, but an Agoran man asked me to bring you to him. He calls himself Han.”

Talon cradled his broken arm gingerly. “Take me to him,” he said through gritted teeth.

The man led Talon to one of the nearby tents. Inside he found Han waiting for him.

“You did well, son. How’s the arm?”

Talon went to answer, but then the room spun, and the effect of his numerous wounds hit him all at once. He collapsed at Han’s feet.

I find it amusing that Talon became chiefson of the tribe who named him Skomm and sent him away in disgrace.

Azzeal, Keeper of the Windwalker Archive

Talon opened his eyes slowly. He was startled by the strange voices murmuring their mysterious words, but his body would not react to his mental commands. He felt numb. A heavy blanket covered him, and his eyes adjusted to a pile of bones sitting on his chest. He smelled the nauseating mix of a dozen different burning herbs.

“Talon…can you hear me? Relax. You are safe. You are being tended to.”

Talon turned his head slowly and found Han staring down on him. The man smiled.

Behind Han, Talon made out Kreal in the next bed. They were in a dimly lit tent with hazy shadows dancing on the curved walls. Other figures moved beyond his view. He could hear them talking low and preparing their concoctions with mortar and pestle.

Talon tried to move his left arm and realized that it was in a sling. His right was free, and with it he touched his face. There was a sticky salve on his nose, and a small bone that left him cross-eyed when he tried to look at it. Something was around his neck, something thin and light. Talon felt the necklace with his fingers and looked to Han, who only winked.

The healing necklace, Talon realized.

“Why…why didn’t you give it to Akerri?”

“I knew someone might need it more. Had I not left it with your father these last two days, he would have surely died.”

“Two days?” said Talon.

“Yes, the ring pushed you beyond your limitations for too long, I suspect. You needed a good rest. Your nose was broken, and the slash to your shoulder cut to the bone. How you continued on I can only attribute to the ring. Your arm broke in two places, and one of the bones tore through the flesh. But none to worry. It will soon be healed.”

“How is my father?”

“He will live. Just sleeping now. He’s already been up. He asks about you.”

Talon’s eyes filled with hot tears, and he blinked them away.

“Get some more rest. It is late. In the morning you will feel better.”

Talon needed no more coaxing. The conversation had taken a lot out of him, and he rested his head, quickly falling into slumber.

***

When he awoke in the morning, he found Kreal standing beside his bed, looking to have been praying. He opened his eyes when Talon stirred, and for the first time in his life, Talon saw the man smile at him.

“Father?”

Kreal’s eyes shimmered as he looked upon Talon, and he did nothing to hide his tears. “You have your mother’s face. You have her eyes…”

“Gretzen always told me that. And she said I had your stubborn side.”

Kreal laughed at that and suddenly hugged Talon. With his good arm, Talon returned the embrace. His father shuddered above him.

“What have I done?” he whispered. “Casting you away like I did. Letting them take you to that place.”

“Father,” said Talon, his own voice shaky. “I forgive you, Father. I forgive you.”

Kreal held him at arm’s length and smiled upon him. “Gretzen told me that she had seen great things in your stars. I was a fool.”

It was Talon’s turn to laugh. “It’s alright. I didn’t believe her either.”

Talon dined with his father and shared a hearty stout ale that was supposed to have medicinal properties. They spoke of Kvenna, Talon’s mother, with Kreal telling him the story of their courtship and subsequent marriage. The man smiled the entire time he spoke of his late wife. The name rolled off his lips like a cherished thing and caused his smiling face to swell with pride. Talon realized then Kreal’s deep love for his mother, and how much of a shock it had been for him to return with the cure to her sickness, only to have already lost her.

Kreal had saved the Volnoss barbarians from the frozen plague, but he had not been able to save his wife.

Talon learned that no Vald woman would take him as a husband after that, worried that he would plant another Skomm seed. And so years ago, Kreal had resigned himself to the teepee on the hill, content to wallow in his own misery and drink himself to death.

“When you came to me the other night, I was blind drunk,” said Kreal. “I’ve had a demon living inside me since your mother died. But you killed it that night.”

Talon nodded. “I have wrestled with my own demons. I hated you for a long time. Most of my life, really,” he said with a nervous laugh. “But I never thought of what my mother’s death meant to you. What it did to you. I nearly lost my Akerri, and I know what I might have become had she fallen. But that is all behind us, father. In a way, I think that it had to be, for look what it has gotten us.”

“I am now chief,” said Kreal, looking as though the idea still amazed him. “And you…you believe that you can now free the Skomm.”

Talon studied his father’s eyes, trying to gauge his position. “The miotvidr is wrong. It named me Skomm, and I have helped to overthrow a chief. The Vald have made a grave mistake in discarding their own children. Surely you see—”

Kreal raised a staying hand. “I believe as you believe, son. And I will do everything in my power to change the minds of the other chiefs. But they will not be easily placated. This will likely mean war.”

“Just help me to get them away from this island. Just give me time. The king of Shierdon has vowed to help, and I have two ships of my own.”

“I have heard as much from Han. I know your plan. But have you thought of what will happen when I allow tens of thousands of Skomm to leave from my harbor?”

“We will sit with the chiefs,” said Talon. “We will tell them that it is the will of Thodin. You have seen the spirit warg that walks beside me. You have seen the hawk that I ride upon.”

“Perhaps we can help them to see the will of Thodin,” said Kreal.