Authors: Margaret Weis
“We'll do it,” Alake said. “But when? And how?”
Trust a human. Always had to have a plan.
“We'll have to wait and watch for a time,” Devon said. “There's bound to be opportunity on the trip.”
A sudden, horrible thought struck me. “What if the dolphins tell our parents what they told us?”
“We'll have to watch them, see that they don't talk to our parents or anyone else for that matter,” said Alake, after a moment's pondering, during which none of us came up with anything more helpful. “With any luck, our people will be too busy to take time out to gossip.”
A forlorn hope. I didn't mention that it was not only probable but logical that our parents would ask the dolphins for information before we's t out on the journey. I was surprised they hadn't thought to do it yet, but I guess they had more important things on their minds—like fish oil.
We all agreed to keep close watch, be ready with arguments in case we failed. Alake was to warn Haplo, discreetly, without giving anything away, that it might be best if no one spoke to dolphins for a while.
After that, we parted, to make preparations for the great journey and to begin keeping an eye on our parents.
It's a good thing they have us around. I've got to go. More later.
2
1
The next several pages of Grundle's journal chronicle events previously related. Since—with one exception—they correspond with Haplo's account, these passages will be deleted. The exception is Devon's attempted suicide, which Grundle describes as an “accident while picking sugarfruit.” it is interesting to note that even in her own private writings, she loyally perpetuates the deception.
2
This is, however, the last entry in Grundle's journal.
HIS DOG WAS WITH ALFRED.
There was no doubt in Haplo's mind that the dog the dolphins mentioned was
his
dog and it was with Alfred. The thought irritated Haplo, bothered him more than he cared to admit, rankled like a poisoned barb in his flesh. He found himself thinking about the dog when he should have been concentrating on more important matters—such as the journey ahead, the war against the Sartan.
“It's only a damn dog,” he told himself.
Elves and dwarves were boarding their submersibles, preparing to travel back to their homelands and ready their people for the great Sun Chase. Haplo stayed with them until the last possible moment, reassuring the dwarves, prodding the elves to action, solving problems both real and imaginary. They hadn't all agreed to go to war, not yet. But he was leading them toward it, gently, without their being aware of his intent. And Haplo had little doubt that the Sartan would finish whatever it was he started.
The humans, with typical human impetuosity, wanted to sail the submersibles to Surunan directly, land their people on the shore, and then open up negotiations.
“We will be arguing from a position of strength,” stated
Dumaka. “The Sartan will see our numbers, see that we have already established a foothold. They will see, too, that we arrive in peace with peaceful intent. They will look out over the walls of their city and see women and children …”
“They'll look out over their walls and see an army,” Yngvar growled. “They'll grab their axes first and think about talking later.”
“I agree with Yngvar,” said Eliason. “We don't want to intimidate these Sartan. I suggest that we halt the fleet near Surunan, close enough for the Sartan to see our ships and be impressed by our numbers, but far enough away that they do not feel threatened….”
“And what's wrong with a little threatening?” Dumaka argued. “I suppose you elves plan to go groveling and crawling in on your bellies, prepared to wash their feet.”
“Certainly not. We elves know how to behave politely, present our proposals in a civilized manner without loss of dignity.”
“Now you're saying we humans are not civilized!” Dumaka flared.
“If the boot fits …” Yngvar began, at which point Haplo intervened.
“I think it would be best to go with Eliason's plan. What if, as Yngvar suggests, the Sartan decided to attack? You'd have your families strung out on the beaches, defenseless. Far better to keep on board the ships. There's a place to moor the submersibles not far from Draknor, where the dragon-snakes live.
“Don't worry,” Haplo added hastily, noting the scowls that met this proposal, “you won't be that close to the snakes. You can take advantage of their air bubble to bring your ships to the surface. And by the time you reach this point, you'll be glad to breathe fresh air again. Once you're here, you ask the Sartan for a meeting, and then open negotiations.”
His plan was accepted. Haplo smiled quietly. He could almost certainly count on the mensch to talk themselves into trouble.
Which brought him to his next topic of conversation: weapons. In particular, magical elven weapons.
No weapon made by menscli, magic or otherwise, could stand up against the power of the Sartan rune-magic. But Haplo had devised a plan that would make everyone equal, a plan that would, in fact, give the mensch the edge. He hadn't told anyone about his plan yet, not the mensch, not even his allies, the dragon-snakes. Too much was at stake: victory over the ancient enemy, Samah helpless and at the Patryn's mercy. Haplo would tell everyone when they needed to know and not a moment before.
Although no elf living could remember a time of warfare, the magical weapons they'd once developed were celebrated in story and legend. Eliason knew all about them, described them all to Haplo. The two of them endeavored to determine which weapons the elves could manufacture swiftly, which weapons they could learn to use effectively—or at least learn how to inflict more damage on an enemy than on themselves.
After some discussion, Haplo and Eliason settled on the bow and arrow. The elven king was quite enamored of archery—a sport still used by some elves as a form of entertainment at parties. The magical arrows hit whatever target they were ordered to hit after being fired and therefore aim wasn't all that critical.
The humans were already skilled in the use of bow and arrow, plus numerous other weapons. And although their weapons weren't magically enhanced (nor would the humans use elven weapons, considering them suitable only for weaklings), the Coven had the power to summon the elements to assist in the battle.
This point settled, the Gargans, Phondrans, and Elmas took friendly leave of each other. Dwarves and elves sailed off to their homelands, and Haplo breathed a sigh of relief.
Walking back to his lodge, he was thinking to himself that, at last, everything seemed to be working out.
“Haplo,” said Alake. “May I speak with you? It's about the dolphins.”
He glanced at her impatiently, irritated at the interruption. “Yes? What about them?”
Alake bit her lip, looked abashed. “It's urgent,” she said
softly, in apology. “Otherwise I wouldn't bother you. I know what important matters you have on your mind …”
It occurred to Haplo that the dolphins might have told the girl things she hadn't told him. He had no way of knowing, he'd been involved in meetings since then.
He forced himself to pause, to smile at the girl, seem glad to see her. i'm going back to my lodge. Will you walk with me?”
Alake returned his smile—how easy it was to please her—and fell into step beside him, moving gracefully to the pleasing silvery sounds of the bells and beads she wore.
“Now,” he said, “tell me about the dolphins.”
“They don't mean any harm, but they do like to stir up excitement and, of course, it's difficult for them to understand how important it is for us to find a new seamoon. The dolphins can't figure out why we want to live on land. They think we should live in the water, as they do. And then they're really frightened of the dragon-snakes …”
Alake wasn't looking at him while she talked. Her eyes were averted; her hands, he noted, were nervously twisting the rings on her fingers.
She knows something, Haplo concluded grimly. Something she isn't telling.
“Sorry, Alake,” he said, still smiling at her, “but I'm afraid I don't find fish much of a threat.”
“But I thought… that is, we thought… Grundle and Devon agree … that if the dolphins talked to our people, they might say things. The dolphins, I mean. Things that would upset our parents and maybe cause more delays.”
“What things, Alake?” Haplo came to a halt. They were near his lodge, no one else was around. “What did the dolphins say?”
The girl opened her eyes wide. “Nothing!” she began, faltered, hung her head. “Please don't make me tell you.”
It was well she couldn't see the expression on Haplo's face. He drew a deep breath, controlled the impulse to seize the girl and shake the information out of her. He did take hold of her, but his touch was gentle, caressing.
“Tell me, Alakc. The lives of your people could be at stake.”
“It doesn't have anything to do with my people—”
“Alake.” Haplo's grip on her tightened.
“They said terrible things about… about you!”
“What things?”
“That the dragon-snakes were evil, that you were evil. That you're only using us.” Alake raised her head, her eyes flashed. “I don't believe it! I don't believe a word. Neither do Grundle and Devon. But if the dolphins were to tell my parents …”
Yes, Haplo thought, that would finish it. Of all the damn, fool, stupid things to happen! His grand design, about to be wrecked by a bunch of fish!
“Don't worry,” she said quickly, seeing the dark expression on his face. “I have an idea.”
“What is it?” Haplo was only half-listening, trying to figure out how to solve this latest crisis.
“I thought,” Alake suggested shyly, “that I might tell the dolphins to go on ahead of us … act as scouts. They'd like that. They love to feel important. I could say it was my father's suggestion….”
Haplo considered. It would keep the fish from causing trouble. By the time the mensch reached Surunan, it would be too late for them to back out, no matter what the dolphins told them.
“That's a good idea, Alake.”
Her face was radiant. It took so little effort to make her happy, would take so little. A voice, which sounded very much like the voice of his lord, spoke in Haplo's ear.
You could get this girl to do anything you want. Be nice to her. Give her a few trinkets, whisper sweet things to her in the night, promise her marriage. She would become your slave, do anything for you, even die for you. And, when you 're finished, you can always cast her aside. After all, she is only a mensch.
The two were still standing outside his lodge. Haplo had
his hands on the girl's arms. Alake moved closer, pressing her body nearer. He had only to draw her inside his hut and she would be his. She'd been startled the first time, taken by surprise. But now she'd had time to dream about lying in his arms. Her fear had been subdued by desire.
And in addition to the pleasure she would give him, she would be useful, too. A spy on her parents, on the dwarves and the elves. She would report back to him every word, every thought. And he would ensure that what she knew, she'd keep to herself. Not that she was likely to betray him but this would make it certain.…
He fully intended to go through with her seduction, was surprised to watch himself pat her on the arms, as if she were an obedient child.
“A good idea,” he repeated. “We don't have a moment to lose. Why don't you go take care of the dolphins right now?” He took a step backward, away from her.
“Is that what you want?” she asked him, her voice low and breathless.
“You said yourself how important this was, Alake. Who knows but that, even now, your father isn't on his way to talk to the dolphins.”
“He isn't,” she said, drooping. “He's in the lodge, talking with Mother.”
“Then now's a perfect time.”
“Yes,” she said, but she lingered a moment longer, perhaps hoping he'd change his mind.
She was young, lovely.
Haplo turned from her and entered his hut, flung himself on his pallet as if exhausted. He waited, unmoving, in the cool darkness until he heard her soft footfalls passing through the dust. She was hurt, but not nearly as hurt as she would have been.
“After all, since when do I need a mensch to help me? I work alone. And damn Alfred, anyway,” he added incongruously. “This time, I'll finish him.”