Rising Tide (33 page)

“As you wish,” he told her.

She turned and gave him a fleeting smile, but it didn’t quite touch the worry he saw in her eyes. “Be safe,” she said, “until I see you again.” She gave his arm a final squeeze, letting him know she’d been aware of the prolonged contact as well, then hurried across the busy street.

Jherek stood and watched her, admiring the smooth roll of muscle shown by her breeches and the easy way that she moved, not showing much of a sailor’s rolling gait when on land. Apprehension flared through him, though, when she disappeared from sight down an alley leading deeper into the Amman city. It was like a small, cold voice had whispered that he’d never see her again.

He almost went after her then, but he stopped himself. He’d given his word he’d try to find the captain. He turned and went down the street toward the docks where the festhalls and taverns thrived.

XXIV

“We need to make another attack.”

Huaanton regarded Iakhovas silently after the statement. The sahuagin king’s stance made it clear to Laaqueel that wasn’t something he wanted to hear.

The malenti waited tensely, knowing Iakhovas should have reacted to the king’s unspoken displeasure. For the last twelve years he’d lived among them as one of their own and the wizard knew enough to recognize the body language. By rights, he should have avoided eye contact at any cost and perhaps even swum up over Huaanton’s head, baring his midriff to possible attack as a rebuke and a show of his loyalty.

Iakhovas merely stood there, his back to one of the four thick crystal windows that peered out over the sahuagin city in the chasm. In fact, he not only appeared unrepentant but mutinous, and Laaqueel was certain that attitude ran over into the illusion he wore for the king.

Huaanton’s throne room and audience chamber was huge. Thousands of years had gone into the planning and construction of it. Made of limestone blocks each over an arm span wide and more than that tall, the sahuagin castle looked like another bump on the canyon wall from the outside. It was seven stories tall inside, the lower three sunk into the ledge of outthrust rock spurring from the chasm side, and the other four looking like a natural rock projection.

The throne room was on the second floor down, below Huaanton’s personal quarters and treasury. A massive throne carved from whale bone in the shape of a shark leaping from the water with its jaws distended occupied one end of the room. The open mouth contained the seat, large enough even for Huaanton’s massive girth.

Images of sharks and sahuagin were cut in bas-relief on the limestone blocks of the walls. The largest stones depicted battles from sahuagin history, myth interwoven with truth until it was all memory. The largest piece, on the opposite end of the room from the throne, showed the meeting of the sahuagin and Sekolah, whom they chose as their god.

The carving of Sekolah, the Great Shark, held a shell in his teeth, shaking it. Tiny sahuagin finned away from him in all directions, coming from the shell. According to history, Sekolah had been victorious in chosen battle against a behemoth of the deep. The Great Shark had gone forth, singing his song of joy and been pleasantly surprised to hear other voices singing back to him. The shell containing the sahuagin had floated up to him on a spray of bubbles, drawn by the joy coming from Sekolah. Once the Great Shark had spread them across the sea, the sahuagin had prospered and multiplied even further.

“More than two thousand sahuagin died in the attack on Waterdeep,” Huaanton stated.

“Easily twice that many surface dwellers perished,” Iakhovas said. “The sahuagin who died served their purpose in killing the enemy, but they were weak. The strong members of our people came back from that war, and our race will be the stronger for it. The next hatchlings will all be of true warriors’ blood, a legacy wrought by the testing of our mettle in battle.”

Huaanton’s magnetic black gaze pinned Iakhovas, but the wizard didn’t flinch from the eye contact.

Laaqueel silently prayed that Iakhovas wouldn’t overstep his bounds. If he did, he’d bring swift and certain death down on them both. Twenty sahuagin guards ranged around them, their faces impassive, but the malenti knew they’d act at once if their king rightfully called them into action.

“They died,” Huaanton agreed, “and by that proved they were inadequate to survive, but another strike against the surface dwellers right now might not be the wisest thing we could do.”

“Would you have them think they’ve broken the sahuagin spirit?” Iakhovas asked.

Laaqueel respected the wizard’s ability to choose his words well. They were borderline on accusing Huaanton of cowardice, but they were presented so that the perception was on the part of the surface dwellers, not Iakhovas.

“We still take their ships,” the sahuagin king pointed out.

“Only because they foolishly continue to believe they maintain control over the seas,” Iakhovas replied. “In this we need to be thankful for their own egotistical designs. We do not have to take the fight to them; they bring it into our home territory with every ship they sail. Still, they must be broken of this inflated view of themselves.”

“But the ships appear in less numbers than before.”

“In what they call the Sea of Swords,” Iakhovas said, “your summation is true. However, even that is too much. All that is needed is for a few ships, or perhaps only one, to brave the sea successfully and they will forget the message that has been delivered to them. A human’s memory isn’t as long or as gifted as that of a sahuagin’s. A human will forget and believe again that they can venture out onto the sea. We need to raid their shores, raze their communities, and see them run broken and splintered before us.” He paused. “Sekolah demands no less of his children if they are truly to be his children.”

“You claim the ear of Sekolah,” Huaanton said, “when none of my priestesses claim any such contact.”

“Not his ear,” Iakhovas responded, “his voice. He speaks to me through my priestess. I seek only to obey, as should any true sahuagin.”

The sahuagin king turned slowly toward Laaqueel, his tail flipping through the water in annoyance. That slight gesture was enough to emphasize the difference between him and her.

Huaanton spoke slowly, giving his words weight. “Why speak through such a … flawed vessel?”

Laaqueel instantly dropped her eyes as was the sahuagin custom. She let her arms drift away from her body at her sides, leaving herself defenseless. “I don’t know, Exalted One,” she replied, and that was partially the truth. As Iakhovas had pointed out, how could she have found him without Sekolah’s intervention? Why hadn’t another found the story of One Who Swims With Sekolah? What had made him choose her over the two true sahuagin priestesses who had been with her?

“Have you heard the Great Shark?” Huaanton demanded.

“No,” Laaqueel answered, “though I have been given visions.”

Those visions of combat and strife, of the sahuagin killing surface dwellers at the sides of massive beasts, had been constant for the last year. It could have been nightmares, brought on by listening to Iakhovas’s plans for the sahuagin, but they could have been visions as well.

“Do you believe in these visions?”

Next to her heart, the black quill Iakhovas had inserted under her breast stirred in warning. A chill ran down her spine and her face went numb. “Yes,” she replied. She knew to answer in any other fashion would have meant sudden death. She believed in Sekolah and she believed in her place in the Great Shark’s plans.

Wherever Iakhovas led, she believed it would only strengthen the sahuagin. He was a harsh taskmaster, and his chosen war would only strengthen her people.

She felt Huaanton’s eyes on her, but she knew he could go no further without opening the way to a challenge from either herself or Iakhovas.

“I live only to serve the will of Sekolah,” Iakhovas stated. “Should anything try to stand in the way of that, I would be honor bound to see that thing-that person-destroyed as one of the Great Shark’s enemies.”

When her lateral lines signaled that Huaanton had turned from her, Laaqueel glanced back up and saw Iakhovas squarely meeting the sahuagin king’s gaze.

“Since you’ve been among us,” Huaanton said, “you’ve been overly ambitious.”

“You lay that ambition so easily at my fins,” Iakhovas replied slowly, “but I claim no part of it. The ambition, as you incorrectly call it, is merely the doctrine I’ve been given by my god to obey. I will not turn away from it.”

“Twelve years of age,” Huaanton said, “and you’re already a prince.”

“I’ve taken on the challenges Sekolah has laid before me, and they led me into those positions as the currents dictated,” Iakhovas replied. “I rose from warrior to lieutenant, to baronial guard, to chieftain, and then baron because there was a need and because the Great Shark expected no less of the tool he would shape me into.”

“You challenged and killed everyone who stood in your way.”

“Fairly,” Iakhovas said, “and obviously with Sekolah’s blessing or I would not have survived. Three years ago, when Slaartiig came to your village where you then ruled as baron and laid claim to the crystal ball your warriors salvaged from a surface vessel they’d sunk, I challenged him for you because his claim to your property was unjust, as fits the rules that Sekolah has handed down to our people. No one expected me to live against such odds as that. Yet I did.”

That wasn’t all the story, Laaqueel knew. Iakhovas had actually targeted the surface vessel for the sahuagin raiders, then helped them take it. They’d later used the ship in the raid against Waterdeep, but it also had something on board that he’d laid claim to without the warriors seeing. Only she’d known, and then only because he’d told her, relishing his victory.

The crystal ball had been an additional find, one that Iakhovas hadn’t been overly interested in. It allowed the viewer to see many places, but they lacked the magic phrases to unlock all its secrets to make it into the weapon Huaanton had hoped it would be. If Iakhovas knew the secret of the crystal ball, he never told.

“You killed Slaartiig,” Huaanton said.

“And my actions justified my reasons for defending you in the eyes of the Great Shark and our people,” Iakhovas pointed out. No matter what the illusion his spellwork painted for the sahuagin, Laaqueel saw the anger in his scarred face. “You challenged the old king over a matter of cowardice, and you yourself ripped free the trident that you now hold as a sign of your office from his dead hand, proclaiming yourself king. None of the other princes challenged for your position. They recognized your right to be king, read in the currents of everything that had happened that it was what you were destined for.”

The other eight sahuagin princes also, Laaqueel remembered, recognized that Iakhovas had been the first to lay his trident at Huaanton’s feet, swearing to defend him against all enemies. They already knew what kind of fighter the wizard was.

“You yourself appointed me prince,” Iakhovas said, “with every confidence that I’d carry out the demands of that position and support you in every way, which, if you’ll review my actions since that time, I have done. Why hesitate to believe in me now, when another victory is within our reach?”

“We fight our battles to win,” Huaanton stated. “The one you seek to set before us is unwinnable.”

“We fight to sharpen our claws and prove our worth to Sekolah,” Iakhovas said, and his words rang true in Laaqueel’s ears. “Waterdeep was only the first step. There need to be many more.”

“What would you suggest?” the sahuagin king asked.

“Again you confuse the issue before you, Exalted One. These are the wishes-nay, the commands-of Sekolah himself. He speaks through my high priestess.”

Huaanton turned to Laaqueel and asked, “How does he instruct you?”

“He doesn’t say anything, Exalted One,” the malenti said, hating her part in the present subterfuge. “He gave me a vision of a human city called Baldur’s Gate.”

“Where is this city?”

“Along what the surface dwellers call the Sword Coast,” Laaqueel answered. “It’s south of Waterdeep.”

“This place is important to the surface dwellers?”

“Yes.”

Huaanton shifted, his tail lashing out restlessly. “How so?”

“Between Waterdeep and the country they call Amn, Baldur’s Gate is the last city of any size that the surface dwellers can use as a stronghold,” Iakhovas stated. “It lies almost sixty miles inland, on a flow of moving freshwater they call Chionthar.”

“We can’t go into fresh water,” Huaanton argued.

“The priestess has had the vision,” Iakhovas said. “We cannot deny Sekolah’s wishes. When we put an army there, we have to trust that a way will be made.”

“That army would also be exposed to the surface dwellers. Waters trapped by land don’t run as deeply as the sea.”

“We shall strike at night, at a time when their defenses will be most relaxed. The surface dwellers won’t see us clearly but we will see them easily. Also, Baldur’s Gate lacks the size and protection that Waterdeep possessed. They are as a hatchling to a full-grown warrior. It will not be a battle, it will be a ruination.”

Huaanton appeared to consider Iakhovas’s words, but Laaqueel knew enough about the sahuagin king to know that he wasn’t overjoyed at them either. A lot was at stake.

“You’re asking too much,” the king said finally.

Iakhovas grimaced. Laaqueel felt certain that the illusion he was projecting to the rest of those in the room didn’t show the anger. “Exalted One,” he said carefully and quietly, “I need to remind you I’m not the one doing the asking. It is more along the lines of a command than any conjecture requiring sufferance on your behalf.”

Kicking across the room, Huaanton sat in the open shark’s mouth throne. He kept the inlaid gold and shark bone trident upright beside him.

“I want a sign that this is what Sekolah wants,” he demanded.

“Sacrilege!” Laaqueel exploded, moving toward the sahuagin king with enough fire in her voice and menace in her approach that the royal guards moved quickly to intercept her.