The Tomni'Tai Scroll (Book 1) (16 page)

“I am still waiting to hear back from my emissaries,” King Sarito countered.

“Your emissaries have been rejected by Queen Dalynn,” Simon replied matter-of-factly. “They are not allowed to go beyond Rasselin, where Governor Gandle sends them back to us promptly, all in the name of the Zinferthian Queen.”

“Why must she proceed in this foolishness?” Sarito growled. “I sent her offers of peace, a proposal that could end the border hostilities and let each kingdom thrive.”

“I am afraid not everyone is as amicable as you are, sire,” Simon sneered. “I can not pretend to know why she insists on turning them away. All I know is that in the last seven months only one emissary made it to Kobhir, and we have yet to hear anything from her. All of the others have been turned away at Rasselin.”

“Well, then perhaps we send another through the southern border, and avoid Rasselin altogether,” Sarito offered.

Simon shook his head and crinkled his nose. “A diplomat would not last a day through that border. You and I both know the southern border is rife with bloodshed and murder. Even the large, well-armed merchants avoid it entirely, preferring to travel through Hart’s Bridge.”

“Very well, if you insist then you may alert my armies.” King Sarito held up a short, chubby finger. “Put them on standby only. I would like them to be ready at a moment’s notice, but for now I will not mobilize any troops other than the unit of Death Hawks. If, in the future, things escalate to a more dangerous situation then you and the council may call upon the armies.”

“As you wish, sire,” Simon agreed. “I will follow your instructions exactly.” Simon turned and left the hall. The pit-pat of his soft leather soled shoes echoed grimly off the stone walls. The door clicked heavily into place, sending vibrations through the chamber. Then, all was silent and King Sarito was alone.

King Sarito turned to face his window. He looked out over the landscape. He admired its beauty, but even in the silvery moonlight his mind’s eye envisioned crimson washing over his lands as warriors set about their dastardly deeds. King Sarito shook his head and went down to his knees.

“All-father, surely misfortune has found its way to my door. I have done my best to preserve peace in my land, but now I need your help. Watch over my lands with your all-seeing eye, and protect my people with your all-powerful arm.” King Sarito bowed his head in respect for his ancestral god, but even as he finished his prayer he felt little comfort in his troubled heart.

Talon couldn’t remember the last time he had knelt, either to a man or a deity, let alone a woman. Yet, here he was kneeling before Queen Dalynn. He waited for her to finish the letter from Governor Gandle. He had already informed her of her cousin’s murder. The shock of the news had taken her breath from her for several minutes, and it was very difficult for Talon to get the queen to refocus on the issue at hand.

“You may rise,” the queen said after a few moments.

“Thank you, milady,” Talon replied as he stood up straight. He could read the grief in her features. The wrinkles of time on her face skewed into a frowning grimace coursing with fresh tears, yet Talon noted the fire within her light blue eyes.

“You have served your country faithfully,” Dalynn said. Her hands folded the letter from Gandle onto her lap. “I find it quite disturbing that King Sarito would assault my forces in the north, and even more so that my cousin has paid with his life for the discovery of Sarito’s dastardly endeavors. Insomuch as this was his last request, I will send support to Rasselin. Moreover, I will send the best men at my disposal to answer this atrocity. There will be blood!” The queen clenched her fist and slammed it on the arm of her throne.

“Hart’s Bridge is the last open trade route, milady,” said Korin, a middle-aged man at her left. “To close it would mean that all chances for peace with Shausmat will…”

Queen Dalynn regarded him with a heated stare and silenced him with a raised finger. “This has risen beyond the matters of trade,” she said. “Perhaps my cousin was right all along. He kept telling me that these border skirmishes would escalate to something more devastating. It was you who always tempered my responses.”

Korin bowed his head. “Total war is not a decision to be made lightly. Perhaps if we send some emissaries to King Sarito we can resolve this matter.”

“Will you bring my cousin back to the world of the living with the empty words of an emissary?”

Korin bowed his head even deeper, arching his back to avoid the queen’s wrath.

Queen Dalynn drew in a slow, deep breath and then turned away from Korin. “Korin, go and fetch the other ministers. I will hold an audience with them now.”

“By your command,” Korin replied. He gave one final bow at the door and exited the room.

“What shall I do your majesty?” Talon asked.

Queen Dalynn forced a smile. “I appreciate your valiant fortitude in this matter. I thank you again for your faithfulness and ask that you return to Rasselin as quickly as you can. No doubt the city will need all of its garrison to maintain order until a new governor can be appointed.” The queen rose from her throne and placed her hand on Talon’s bowed head for a moment, before walking on to gaze out through the arched window nearby.

“As you wish,” Talon replied. The thought came to him that now would be a perfect time if he were to follow through with Gandle’s request and slay the queen. Her frail back was turned to him and her hair was up in a bun, exposing her tender neck. It would be so simple. His fingers almost stretched for his dagger, but he quickly shirked the idea off. He was not a man of many rules, but not murdering women was one tenet he had held sacrosanct his entire life. Despite the obvious political gain to be made, he could not seriously contemplate disregarding his own code of honor, as twisted as he might be otherwise. Besides, he knew that his plan would work just as well, if not better, with the queen alive and demanding revenge for her murdered cousin. Talon had already delivered the instructions to General Tehrigg previous to his audience with the queen, so everything was moving smoothly. He also had faith that the recent developments at Hart’s Bridge would spur King Sarito into action as well. The assassin backed out of the room, still bowing as he exited the large throne room.

Talon’s part in engineering the war was now over. He was confident that General Tehrigg was capable of carrying out his part of the coup.

Talon moved swiftly through the palace halls. His grin widened and his gait increased with each step. The forthcoming chaos would allow his actions to go unnoticed by the more powerful kingdoms. He knew that as long as Shausmat and Zinferth turned their attentions more fully to each other, he would be free to disrupt the Elven Isles. He would soon have the Tomni’Tai Scroll. Then he would have the power to challenge the demigods themselves, and lay hold on immortality.

He reached into his pocket and retrieved the list he had gained from Gandle. The first name on the list was Jahre. Talon knew Jahre, or, at least he used to know him. This was the name of a very old Nizhni’Tai sage who knew the locations of the other artifacts needed to activate the Tomni’Tai Scroll. More than that, Jahre was likely the single most influential person in Talon’s life. He was responsible for what Talon had become. Jahre had also betrayed him a long time ago. Talon breathed in a satisfying breath as he thought how delicious it was that his current pursuit of the Tomni’Tai Scroll would also allow him to pay Jahre back in kind. Talon could feel the thrill of victory coursing through his veins.

*****

After night fall Talon sat alone in a tavern by the docks. He waited until the late hours when a rougher crowd would come in. He surveyed the room carefully as he watched a few minor brawls, a knife fight, and a couple of gambling games. Most people would have felt more than a little scared to sit in such a place for hours. Talon was not only comfortable, but enjoying the goings on around him. Each gambling game that broke out into a fight was amusing to him, and he studied each fighter’s technique, or lack thereof, scrutinizing their every move and imagining how easily he would counter and defeat each of the fighters. Talon almost joined in himself when a man was laid out on Talon’s table after a savage punch from a big, ugly brute of a man. The assassin decided against it though, for fear of drawing too much attention to himself. So he pretended to be intimidated and switched tables instead.

Finally, after several more fist fights, he saw the man he wanted. An average built man with a missing little finger on his right hand. It was Captain Dorder, an ex-Shausmatian navy commander. Talon had heard that Dorder was drummed out dishonorably for allegedly smuggling naval supplies to the city of Jonndok, but they had never proven it and the old captain had never been sent to prison. Talon knew that Captain Dorder would be able to rustle up exactly the kind of crew he needed to take him to Bluewater, where Jahre lived.

Talon rose from his seat and crossed the wooden floor of the smoke filled tavern. Captain Dorder turned to face him but said nothing as he watched Talon approach. “Captain Dorder, my name is Silver,” Talon said simply. He noted the suspicious look that the captain gave him. “Bag full of silver,” Talon continued as he placed a large bag of coins on the bar directly in front of Captain Dorder.

“I see,” the weathered seaman said in a gruff voice. “And what can I do fer ya, Mr. Silver?”

“I would very much like to travel to Bluewater, but I don’t have an official travel charter, nor the time to wait for one,” Talon explained.

Captain Dorder eyed the bag and pried the top open to look inside. “Well Mr. Silver, this here would be enough for me to rustle up a crew, but I don’t have a ship,” replied the captain. “Unless you happen to have another bag with which we can hire a ship with as well.”

“I had hoped you would already have your own,” Talon admitted.

“Times have changed,” Dorder replied. “I had to scuttle my last ship.”

Talon arched an eyebrow.

“Trouble with the weather,” Dorder lied. “You know how the seas can be sometimes. She was damaged beyond my means to repair her, so I scrapped her out.”

Talon smiled. “If I were to borrow a boat, and then if I were to promise that boat to you as a prize?” Talon inquired.

“Ah, then ye be talkin' about piracy. A man can die for such crimes,” Captain Dorder sneered and turned to face the bar.

Talon leaned in close enough to smell that the captain had not bathed for quite a while and whispered, “I suppose if it came down to that, the so-called weather could always get rough again and you just end up scuttling some other poor bugger’s boat.”

Dorder cocked an eyebrow and snorted. “I don’t know what yer talkin’ ‘bout.”

Talon whispered low, but sternly. “I need a crew, and I won’t take no for an answer. I understand you have been very adept at covering your own tracks when necessary. Let me worry about getting a boat, and then I will let you worry about hiding her.”

“You find a ship big enough for sixteen crewmen, with a hold for goods, and I would consider that worth the trouble. Anything smaller, and I will keep the silver and make like you and I never met. Agreed?” Talon grinned wickedly and put his hand out. Dorder half chuckled and took Talon’s hand in his and gave it a hearty shake. “Come back here and get me when ye have found yerself a ship, and I will have a crew waiting.”

“Then, I shall see you in exactly three hours, please be ready,” Talon stated. Then he turned and made for the door.

“I’ll be expectin' ya,” Dorder said.

*****

Talon took in a large breath of sea air as he strolled past the docks. There were numerous ships in port that night. Many were larger ships, but Talon needed a smaller, more agile ship. He needed a vessel that could take him to Bluewater quickly, and not be greatly missed. Talon did not want to have the Zinferth navy trail him. As adept a fighter as he was, he knew he would have a hard time defending himself at sea. As a swordsman he had no equal, but if he was left to the skills of a captain at sea, even a former naval commander such as Captain Dorder, it could prove to be his downfall. Still, he kept Captain Dorder’s wish list in mind as he scanned the possibilities.

As Talon neared the southernmost end of the docks he saw a beautiful merchant ship. It appeared to be eighty five feet in length, but not overly bulky. It had one center mast, along with a smaller fore mast. From Talon’s limited knowledge it looked slender enough to lend itself speed and maneuverability upon the waters. The trip to Bluewater would take approximately three days if the weather was nice, and this ship would easily make the voyage without drawing too much attention. Talon saw that it was equipped with two medium ballista launchers, one on each side of the ship near the bow. The two launchers could be turned to face directly perpendicular to the ship, or slightly forward. It would only require a small crew to run it efficiently, and he presumed there was enough storage to hold provisions for several months at a time.

“You will do just fine,” Talon whispered.

Talon viewed the dock around him. There were only two guards on watch. One of them sat at a small desk, reading a book by candle light near to a pile of wooden crates next to a warehouse. The other guard paced lazily back and forth closer to the ship that Talon had his eye on. The next nearest ship was docked over three hundred yards away, meaning that there were not likely to be any additional guards nearby. Talon reasoned that either this boat was docked so far away from all the others because the merchant was hiding something, or because the owner was sure nobody would mess with it. Either way, it had caught Talon’s eye. He knew what he wanted. Now it was time to get his crew.

As Talon entered the tavern where he had left the captain, he spied a group of sixteen people all seated in the rear of the building. A rough looking crowd they were. Most of them had large builds as well as various scars and markings, showing that they had more than a little experience with the darker affairs of life. Talon smiled, they were exactly his kind of people.

Captain Dorder sauntered up to Talon with a sneer on his face. “Did ye find yerself a ship?” the captain inquired.

“I have. The boat is a fine little beauty, about eighty-five feet in length. She won’t require a large crew, and is used as a merchant vessel, so the hold should be large enough for your requirements.”

“Fair enough,” Dorder replied. “Where is this little ship then?” Dorder smiled.

“She’s waiting for us at dock seventy one, on the last pier and hardly even within the sight of the nearest guard tower. Only two guards are on watch. I can handle them while your men rush to the ship and prepare for its immediate launch.”

“What of the ship’s current crew? No man would leave his ship unattended at the very end of the docks. Do ye wish my crew to risk their lives just to get onto the ship?”

“I didn’t see any activity on the ship. If anyone is there, it shouldn’t be more than one or two seamen.”

“No deal,” Dorder said. “We didn’t agree to this. You were supposed to get yer own ship.”

“I see. Your men are cowards,” Talon replied coldly.

“HEY!” one of the men roared from the back table. “I heard what ye just said ‘bout us!” A large, dark complexioned man rose to his feet and pulled a small battle-ax from his belt and advanced toward Talon. Captain Dorder made no move to stop the man. Instead he stepped aside and let the large man come closer.

“Mr. Silver,” Dorder said, addressing Talon, “this here is Bekil. He doesn’t take kindly to being called a coward. Ye may want to take back what ye said before he cleaves yer skull in two. I’ll hang onto the coin until ye find yerself a ship that is ready to occupy.”

Talon smiled in response, but he said nothing. Bekil inched closer, slightly raising his hand to threaten Talon. He stepped in, and Talon’s hand lashed out so quickly that it was hardly more than a blur of motion. Two seconds later Bekil was squirming on the floor of the tavern, his entrails hanging out from his stomach and a large gash across his arm. Talon nonchalantly wiped the blood from his blade onto Bekil's trousers.