The Sea Devils Eye (28 page)

Passing down the line, she turned each egg carefully, aware that her actions were necessary to keep her race healthy in this home they’d found away from home. Even though Li’aya’su had been born in Es’rath and had not been out of the deep waters her people called home, she still felt she was a visitor to Seros. These waters were not her home, and she’d been told that since birth. One day the shalarin would be allowed to go back home, but until that time, she promised herself to make the best of it.

She studied the shells as she moved among them. The rough, dark brown shells would one day add to the ranks of the protector caste. Rust colored shells with striated surfaces signified new members for the scholar caste while the smooth, black shells would give birth to the seeker caste. The seekers swam forever among the currents and searched for meaning beyond the shalarin. The light brown whorled shells belonged to the provider class, and most of the eggs here were that color.

Working quickly and methodically, enjoying the nature of the work as well as the work itself, Li’aya’su touched each unborn child with love and prayed to Ri’daa’trisha, the Wave rider, who was known as Trishina in Seros, for the goddess’s blessing on each. It was a simple task, but she had been doing it since she had been a girl forty years ago.

Screams broke her reverie.

Startled, Li’aya’su turned from the eggs and swam back toward the hatchery’s entrance. Li’ola’des, another of the providers, stood at the entrance and gazed fearfully out.

“What is it?” Li’aya’su asked, joining her.

“The sahuagin,” the other provider replied in disbelief. “They have come here to Es’rath.”

Cold fear hammered the elder provider as she looked out over the shalarin city. She had heard about the war that raged the length and breadth of Seros, but she had hoped her people lived too deeply for the sahuagin to bother.

Hundreds of the vicious sahuagin swam from above, engaging the shalarin protectors at once. Though the protectors fought bravely, there simply weren’t enough of them. The protectors stood as the Hand of the shalarin taught the ways of war and battle from the time they were newly hatched.

The providers and scholars couldn’t help much even in their own defense. A warrior was a warrior and a provider was a provider. According to caste thinking and training, one could not be the other.

Long minutes after the battle began, Li’aya’su heard their battle cry. “Long live King Iakhovas the Deliverer! Meat is meat!”

Horrified, the shalarin provider watched as the sahuagin not only killed her people, but ate them as well. Blood tainted the water in a way she had never seen before.

A group of sahuagin swam toward the hatchery’, clicking and whistling in savage glee.

Not knowing what else to do, Li’aya’su stepped forward, intending to somehow protect the hatchery and the defenseless unborn that lay within the cavern.

The sahuagin didn’t pause at all. The lead warrior lowered his trident. Li’aya’su felt the impact of the weapon piercing her chest, but surprisingly she didn’t feel any pain. The sahuagin’s powerful legs drove her backward through the water. She slammed against the wall behind her, feeling the rock tear her skin but again there was no pain.

“Please,” she gasped, feeling the incredible pressure squeezing the life from her. Her gill slits flared open in a vain attempt to breathe. “Please don’t harm the children.”

She lifted her hand in supplication. One of the sahuagin raked his claws against Li’ola’des’s neck, ripping her throat out. The provider died without a sound.

Holding the trident to keep her pressed back against the wall, the sahuagin grinned at her and growled, “Meat is meat.”

His great head snapped forward suddenly and his jaws opened to crunch down on Li’aya’su’s wrist. When he pulled away, he took her hand with him, chewing it between bared fangs.

“No mercy, finhead.”

Peering through a cloud of her own life’s blood. Li’aya’su watched helplessly as the sahuagin ravaged the hatchery. They lifted the blessed eggs that nurtured the future of the shalarin race and ate them, one after the other. Pieces of broken shell littered the gentle currents that helped keep the cavern warm. The sea devils’ terrible roars and laughter filled the cavern even as the shalarin providers life was spent.

XX

“The sahuagin destroyed the Ola, Aya, and Yea clan hatcheries at Es’rath over a month ago.”

Pacys felt the horror and helplessness of the tale the locathah female told him. She called herself Tyhlly. Music tugged at the old bard’s fingers, sending them quietly questing along the saceddar’s gems. Though he didn’t touch the inset gems, the notes filled his mind along with the images.

He sat on the ocean floor on a rise that overlooked the valley the sea elf caravan had come through only moments before. Taranath Reefglamor had ordered a brief respite until the scouts returned. The three older High Mages - including Yrlimn Tidark who had remained to himself studying ancient texts written on specially treated sharkskins-and the three new High Mages, sat with the bard and Khlinat. They talked with the locathah who’d come looking for Pacys.

During their long trip around the Pirate Isles, the locathah had maintained contact with the sea elf caravan. Most particularly, they’d maintain contact with Pacys, bringing him stories from all around Seros.

Despite the sea elves initial resentment of the locathah habitually seeking them out. the High Mages had recognized their value and even commented on their valor and loyalty. During some of the skirmishes they’d had with groups of koalinth, the locathah had even pitched in and fought.

Though they maintained contact with mages back in Sylkiir who routinely monitored Seros through crystal balls, there was much the sea elves missed. The locathah. however, were everywhere.

“Didn’t the shalarin fight back?” High Mage Ildacer asked.

The locathah turned her attention to the sea elf and said. ‘“Yes, Lord High Mage.” Tyhlly’s deference to Ildacer was obvious, reflecting the locathah attitude toward the Alu’Tel’Quessir. “They fought, and they died. Over a thousand of the unhatched shalarin died as well.”

“A thousand innocent deaths,” Reefglamor whispered in a hoarse voice.

Pacys studied the Senior High Mage. During the long months of travel, the journey had marked Reefglamor with fatigue.

“If the merfolk had let us travel across the Hmur Plateau instead of having to go around it, mayhap we could have prevented those deaths.”

“Better that you had not.” Tyhlly stated.

“How can you say that?” the Senior High Mage demanded.

The locathah blinked her huge eyes and hesitated.

“I’m sure,” Pacys interjected gently, “that she meant no harm by the statement.”

“No harm. Lord Senior,” Tyhlly said. “No harm intended at all. I give my life to Eadro and to improving our world in ways that will benefit all. I would not wish such a terrible thing on anyone.” She paused. “I only meant that since the deaths at the hatcheries and the attacks on Es’rath, the shalarin now openly take up arms against the sahuagin. You have more potential allies in your quest.”

“Aye,” Khlinat growled. “She’s got the right of it there.”

“Why would the Taker attack the shalarin?” Ildacer asked. “He’s already engaged a host of enemies above and below the sea.”

No one seemed to have an answer. Pacys let his fingers wander across the saceddar, listening to the notes in his mind. Excitement filled him-he knew the fabled city of Myth Nantar was only a short distance away-but doubt lingered with him, too. So far there had been no word of Jherek, the boy he felt certain was the hero Xarros had told him about. He prayed to Oghma for guidance regularly, but there had been no definite course set other than the one he now followed.

Tyhlly broke the silence after a time. “There is a simple reason why he attacks the shalarin,” she said.

“What?” Jhanra Merlistar asked.

“To take away further avenues you have open to you in the war against him,” Tyhlly answered.

“What do you mean?” Ildacer asked.

“The Taker seeks to keep the races of Seros divided.” Though the locathah spoke softly, Pacys knew she had the attention of everyone there. “The merfolk wouldn’t let you cross the Hmur Plateau to get here. The Taker’s attack on Es’rath and occupation of parts of the Xedran Reefs has assured that their paranoia has increased. The elves of the Dragon Reach have erected battlements to keep out those potentially hostile to them.”

Pacys knew it was true from the conversations he’d had with Reefglamor. The Dragon Reach sea elves stayed on guard against sahuagin attack, as well as hostilities from the nearby coastal lands.

“How do you know this?” Ildacer demanded.

The locathah ranger pointed at the dolphins that had accompanied her. “The whales sing of it, and we are friendly with the whales.”

“What would you have them do?” Ildacer asked sarcastically. “Lay down arms and let the sahuagin death tide wash over them?”

“No,” Tyhlly answered. “Freedom is precious-something that should never be easily given up. A bigger foe may threaten you or imprison you for a time, but you should always be looking for your first chance at freedom. My people learned this long ago, and at great cost.”

Pacys’s fingers stroked the keys, echoing the locathah words.

“Now that the shalarin are put on guard,” Tyhlly went on, how do you think they would feel about another race invading their lands?”

“They wouldn’t tolerate it,” Jhanra said. “They would fight against anyone who wasn’t one of them.”

Tyhlly nodded, turning her head from one side to the other to fix her other eye on the young High Mage. “Exactly. You do see.”

“I don’t,” Talor Vurtalis grumbled.

Unlike the other two newly made High Mages, Vurtalis wore his seluldira gem openly on his forehead. Over the months-long journey, Pacys had learned the choice was in direct opposition to elven tradition and propriety.

“The Taker has allied himself with the morkoth,” Tyhlly said. “If he joins with them again and marches on Eadraal, successfully forcing the mermen from the Lesser Hmur Plateau and Myth Xantar, where will they retreat to?”

“Possibly the shalarin lands.” Reefglamor said.

Pacys saw understanding light the Senior High Mage’s eyes.

“And, after the attack on the hatcheries,” the locathah asked, “what would the shalarin do?”

“They would attack. Vhaemas’s army and his people would be cut down from both sides.” Reefglamor’s answer was sobering. He stared at the locathah with new respect. “You have quite an understanding of war.”

The locathah ranger spread her hands. “It is just that we have been involved with them for so long, Lord Senior. We have come to understand war, and we have come to understand that unity often means our freedom. In times past, when the locathah were taken as slaves, we were particularly vulnerable when we fought among ourselves. We have learned from those experiences and vowed never to make them again. Working together, we understand that we are stronger than we would be if we stood alone.” She hesitated, then added, “Some of our leaders, as well as the whales, feel that is something the other races of Seros would do well to learn.”

An uncomfortable silence followed her words.

Tyhlly rounded her shoulders self-consciously, making herself more vulnerable. “Forgive me if I have trespassed in my zeal to spread the news I have learned,” she said.

There’s no need to apologize,” Reefglamor assured her.

“You have spoken fairly. Sometimes the truth is a hard thing to hear.”

“Thank you, Lord Senior.”

“Perhaps we should be thinking about a unity of some sort,” Reefglamor suggested.

“With the mermen?” Ildacer scoffed. They wouldn’t even let us travel across their lands. An alliance will be out of the question.”

“I take it you are not in favor of it?” Jhanra asked.

Ildacer’s answer was immediate. “Of course not. With all the wars between us, how could anyone entertain such an idea?”

“In some of those wars,” Reefglamor said, “the Alu’Tel’Quessir and the merfolk were allies, not enemies.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“Currents change,” the Senior High Mage replied. “Things are not as they once were.”

“Aye,” Khlinat put in. “Dwarves are known for their warrin’ ways. Don’t know if ye get much stories about us down here, but I can tell ye that nothing sets a dwarf afire with passion the way a good battle can. Different communities battled ores and goblins for caves where gems were mined and a dwarf could live if he had a mind to. They also fought one another for the same things. Now ye take a dwarf down to a tavern and him blowing the suds off a fresh mug and a human or elf get physical with him, why any other dwarf in the place would be the first to stand up for him if he got into more than he could handle.”

“But if it was an elf or a half-ore in trouble, these dwarven feelings you praise so highly wouldn’t be quite so ready, would they?” Ildacer asked sarcastically.

“Now there’s a funny thought,” Khlinat said without taking offense. “I seen mates on a ship, crew that had been together through some stormy weather and buckle to buckle against pirates what had tried to reeve them of their cargo-and they was a mixed bag, the lot of ‘em. Aboard ship, they had their problems, but the cap’n set ‘em straight. Mayhap on occasion they’d take an unkind hand with each other once they reached shore, but when it come to taverns and local roustabouts laving hands on ‘em, why ye’d have thought they was long-lost brothers the way the>* took up for one another.”

Everyone looked at the dwarf, who appeared suddenly as though he’d rather be elsewhere.

Finally Reefglamor broke the silence. “I’ve never heard you speak so much.”

“I have me moments.” Khlinat replied gruffly.

“Thank Deep Sashelas that you do, Khlinat. Your words ring true and I shall have to think upon them.”

“I’m just saying there ain’t no grand and perfect solution to how folks are to get along with one another,” the dwarf said. “Neighbors ought to pay attention to who’s in the neighborhood before they start picking fights with one another.*