Salt Storm: The Salted Series: Episodes #31-35 Galvin, Aaron (classic fiction txt) 📖
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Nomads . . . she thought, noting a similar fear dawning in Arsen’s eyes too when he turned back toward her, seeking and failing to find an escape in that direction also.
Arsen’s eyes rounded when one of the Nomads let fly a war-cried scream and swam directly at him. The war-cry was taken up by most of the other warriors too, all of them overtaking the Orc and leaving him no way of escape. For all the malice they seemed to bear Arsen, however, Chidi did not see any of them raise a weapon against him. Instead, the Nomads seemed to prefer taking the Orc alive rather than slaying him outright. Chidi’s heart thundered against her chest as the Nomads dragged Arsen screaming into the depths.
The remaining warriors came for Chidi next. They stopped short of reaching for her when a weak voice commanded them back.
No . . . Allambee uttered, flailing to place his hands upon Chidi’s seal body and embrace her. Please . . . he begged of the other Nomads. L-Leave her be . . .
Despite his call, the Nomads would not heed him.
Nor would Chidi leave her wounded friend behind as the Nomads came for them both. Leave us alone! She shouted at them, sinking under the added weight of Allambee slumped upon her. With her seal voice, she barked and hissed in warning as the Nomads swam nearer. She relaxed her stance when noting they reached for Allambee without a weapon to bear.
Despite their painted eyes, Chidi saw only concern and questions as they carefully teased Allambee from her. She studied the wounds given her friend by Arsen then too.
Blood trailed forth in wispy streams from several deep stabbings in Allambee’s belly and chest. Still more scratches adorned his hands and wrists from where he had attempt to fend off the blade meant to end him.
No . . . Chidi thought when she saw her own understanding of such wounds matched in the knowing eyes of the Nomad warriors too. Several of them shook their heads upon inspecting the wounds, the Salt already cleansing the watery cloud of blood, leaving only remnants of the crimson trails behind.
Chidi’s heart shattered as she swam toward Allambee, not stopped by the warriors that held him, nor caring if they tried to halt her for drawing near. Allambee . . . She called to his mind. Talk to me. She nipped at his hand, attempting to draw some little stirring from him. Please!
Allambee did not move, but the rise and fall of his chest signaled some little life remained within him.
One of the Nomads nearest him muttered a foreign word of his tribe then, a word not known to Chidi’s mind. She understood its meaning all the same by the actions of the others.
The other warriors drew their daggers, their postures stiffening like each prepared for a new threat to come against them. They relaxed when seeing what Chidi did also – a single seal, diving down to join them, unafraid and unrelenting in their pace.
The Cape Fur Seal swept around the warriors, glancing down upon Allambee’s body, then looking to Chidi too before halting in mid-swim. This boy is dying, the voice of Marisa Bourgeois spoke to all in the vicinity with the Common tongue. And we have a boat with supplies to tend him. It may be that he will live a while longer if you will bring him there for us to mend and care for.
One of the Nomads emerged from the grouping to speak for all the rest in the Common tongue. This boy is a brave one of our kind, Silkie, he replied to Marisa. If the Salt will claim him after his fight against the Orcs, we will sing his honor. He will not breathe your air.
He will, said Marisa. For this boy is born of two worlds. A child of Salt and Sand. And he may prefer to live awhile longer, rather than strangers sing his praises without they know his name.
The Nomad sneered at the claim. What is his name then, Silkie? And who are you to speak such commands to us? Be quick with your answers, else we take him anyway. Aye, and you two Silkies with him.
His name is Allambee Omondi, said Marisa. Let one of you dive down to your chieftains now, both to carry this boy’s name and deliver my arrival and message too. For my name is well known among one of your elders also. She looked to Chidi next. Aye, as my Silkie friend’s name is known and respected among Watawa the Open Shell and his brother, No Boundaries, too.
Watawa? Chidi saw her own recognition matched in the awe-struck expressions from the Nomads at the naming of her former owners. He’s here? And Quill too?
Come now. Marisa chirped to quiet the whispers among the Nomads. Bring the boy to our ship that we might try and save him. Aye, and let one of you go quickly now to find your elders and deliver my message of this boy’s name. Tell them that Marisa Bourgeois awaits them in the above . . . and that I have brought the ones I promised to deliver not so long ago.
13
GARRETT
With the Sancul over an hour gone, the Nomad tribal leaders had resorted to in-fighting again over the offer made by the Sancul leader, Kanaloa.
Time? Ishmael flung the word at Cursion White Shadow. The Deep Dwellers reveal themselves to us and extend an offer of alliance! Aye, to help us overcome our enemies and to shape the world, yet you request time from them to consider the offer?
Aye, said Cursion. As I would have us all consider and discuss the offer of an alliance fully.
Ishmael snorted. Make no mistake, high chieftain, it were not an offer made in earnest. The
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