Free Exodus: The Windwalker Archive: Book 3 (Legends of Agora) by Michael James Ploof Page B

drink with the man who helped cure, feed, and clothe so many of our brothers and sisters.”
    He raised his glass and tapped it against Talon’s, causing a clean, piercing ring to issue forth. Talon drank and took a seat in the plush chair across from Argath—the same chair he had sat in while dealing with Captain McGillus.
    “Captain,” said Talon. “I think that a direct war against the Vald will end in tragedy.”
    The joviality and celebration left Argath’s face in an instant, not to be replaced by anger or indignation, but with sober consideration.
    “Why do you say this? Has a vision come to you in the elven lands?”
    Talon considered the captain, who sat before him, drunk on dwarven whiskey and elven magic. He thought for a moment to lie to the man, to tell him an outlandish tale about a dream, and perhaps even Thodin himself deeming him a prophet.
    He shook away the notion, disappointed with himself for thinking such a thing.
    “It was not so much premonition as it was consideration. We’ve got what, a dozen or so well-trained gladiators between the two ships. The others might have eaten well in Cerushia, but they are still starved Skomm who never fought for themselves. We know nothing of war, not to mention how to protect tens of thousands of Skomm who are surrounded on all sides by giants bred to kill.”
    “I’ll not hear any words that might discourage me from my course,” said Argath, easily dismissing Talon’s warnings as he poured another drink.
    “How will we train them all? And even if we have years, they will still be no match for the Vald.”
    “Since when have you lost the nerve for battle?” Argath asked.
    “I’ve not lost my nerve. But we cannot win this fight going head to head with the Vald. We have to use our heads if we are to defeat them.” Talon thought of Crag then, and the big man’s words of wisdom. “There is always another way.”
    Argath considered his words and tipped back his glass. Talon ignored his.
    “Then what, tell the gods, is this other way you speak of?”
    Talon opened his mouth to speak, but found that he hadn’t really thought of another way, he just knew there was one. But of course, he didn’t tell the captain that.
    “We need to be smart. We need to play off the Valds’ weakness.”
    “They have a weakness?”
    “Yes, of course,” said Talon, growing excited. “They’re overly superstitious and superficial. They take everything at face value.”
    “How do you mean?”
    “Well, just think about why we’re here, why we’re Skomm; they have placed ridiculous and often times untrue and unfair restrictions on who they think is strong and who they think is weak. They see someone lame, they immediately discard them, never knowing what that person has endured, or the struggles they’ve had to face. And they believe in the gods, which obviously means—”
    “You don’t believe in the gods?” Argath asked, raising his head to glance down upon Talon.
    Talon gave a small snort of a laugh. “Am I to believe in Thodin, who presumably wanted me to never be born, who unleashed a hurricane upon Volnoss to be rid of me…but failed! Am I to believe in a god who supposedly dictated those many centuries ago to discard the weak and small of stature and make them his slaves?”
    He shook his head.
    “If that is what you call a god, then I would rather be godless.”
    Argath considered Talon with a wild light in his eyes. He was not angered by Talon’s words, but rather saddened. It wasn’t uncommon for the Skomm to renounce the Vald gods.
    “Did you ever believe?” Argath asked, sipping his drink slower now.
    “Maybe, when I was younger. But with that belief came self-loathing. But as I said before, I think that the Vald beliefs can be used against them.”
    “Go on.”
    “Well, consider Chief. Many of the Skomm already believe that I have been chosen by the spirit animal of Timber Wolf Tribe. And we can use that to our advantage. As much as I hate