Salt Storm: The Salted Series: Episodes #31-35 by Galvin, Aaron (read 50 shades of grey .TXT) 📕

among our tribes. He looked on Garrett sadly. Either way is unsafe for you, my friend.

What about you? Garrett asked. You could speak out against Ishmael.

Watawa shook his head.

Why not? Garrett asked. The people listen to you! Your dreams, they—

No, said Watawa. My situation is not much unlike your own, Garrett Weaver. The people listen to me only so long as others in higher positions allow. Just as they feared and respected White Shadows’s protection of you, the true warriors here do not worry over me so much as they concern themselves with what would quickly become my brother’s wrath if anything were to happen to me. And, if it is Ishmael to assume leadership next . . . His one eye widened. Then, I fear none of those with us now will ever hear my continued warnings, Garrett Weaver. Not without my brother here to back my words.

Atsidi Darksnout will, said Garrett. He agreed with you and White Shadow about the Sancul. And you once told me that his tribe has the largest numbers too. If we can just get through to the Hammers, then I know Atsidi will listen to us.

Watawa sagged for every continued word spoken.

What? Garrett asked. What’s wrong?

I fear Atsidi Darksnout is lost to us now also, he said quietly. His son is dead. Killed at the hands of the Blackfin’s Orcs. Watawa looked upon Garrett with sorrow in his gaze. When I found you among the Tigers, it was your father I sought to find. Aye, to tell him of Atsidi’s mourning . . . and of his call-to-arms. Even now, the other tribes who have heard such news rejoice with the rallying cry of vengeance for the murdered boy, Allambee Omondi.

Garrett blinked. The boy died, then?

Aye, said Watawa. As so many others will suffer for it now. For when we reach the gates of New Pearlaya, I fear the Hammers will indeed rain vengeance upon the pearl city and against all those who murdered their chieftain’s son in honor of his memory.

Garrett shook his head. But, Atsidi swore that he was done with fighting. That the Hammers would only swim to New Pearlaya as a show of Nomad unity and strength!

Aye, he did, once, said Watawa. But that were before his son were murdered by a similar ilk as those who slew many others of Atsidi Darksnout’s family in a time long past. I assure you, my friend, the Hammers now swim to war with all the rest . . . and I have it heard from Atsidi Darksnout himself that he will lead his warriors on the front lines.

Garrett paled, his skin prickling as he searched the surrounding water. What do we do now, then?

Would that I knew, child, said Watawa. What did Ishmael say to you after? How is it that he allowed you to live after witnessing your father’s murder?

He told me swim away, said Garrett. To deliver a message to the Blackfin.

Aye, a message. Watawa’s face twisted. And for you to carry the blame of White Shadow’s death with your absence here, no doubt.

What do you mean?

It would seem to me already Ishmael has planned his actions in full, said Watawa. With the Tigress to await you in the above, already she has cast doubt upon you. It will not be long till Ishmael or Short-Shore returns with news of your father’s death and you long gone from his side. He sighed. And with the people’s blood and anger already stirred with Silent Hammer’s son slain at the hands of Orcs, Ishmael will see his rallying cry further received. Watawa placed his hand upon Garrett’s shoulder. And then these waters will be no place for anyone with Orcish ties, especially for one that others will soon claim murdered our high chieftain.

I didn’t do it though, said Garrett. I’m part Nomad too. Why would I want to kill him?

I fear neither truth will matter to most, my friend, said Watawa. A person alone might hear and believe you, but the masses were crying out for vengeance with the loss of Silent Hammer’s son. To add the death of White Shadow this night too? Watawa shook his head. Soon, they shall all be raging to create victims of their own, rather than to stop and question such plots as have been made and carried out already.

What do I do, then? Garrett asked, seeing no way of exit when surrounded by all the other Nomads. Where do I go?

Watawa took his time in answering, his one eye gleaming before he spoke. As your father said before . . . aye, and Ishmael too. The shaman’s words came as a whisper, but Garrett heard them like a thunderclap when the one-eyed mystic squeezed his shoulders with all the sinewy strength within him. You must go to the pearled city, Garrett Weaver. Fly there with all the speed you can muster to deliver word of all that you have witnessed this night. Of your father’s death at Ishmael’s hands . . . aye, and of the Sancul offer for a Salt alliance with our people too.

I can’t, Garrett said without thinking. How? I-I don’t know how to get into the city alone. Or where the city even is from all the way out here! How would I—

Watawa quieted him with another squeeze. You must find a way, Garrett Weaver, he said, his voice strengthening, his lone eye blazing. You have the blood of both worlds, Salt and Sand, in your veins, my young friend. Aye, the twin product of both our collective peoples too, a child born of shared love between enemies with the hope of a better tomorrow. Not for one race alone, but for all who swim beneath the Salt. If not your voice, Garret Weaver, who else to deliver such words?

I can’t, said Garrett, his eyes stinging at the thought of such a task, his mind searching for any excuse. Even if I could reach the city, the Orcs won’t listen