Under Fallen Stars (32 page)

“I don’t understand why we should involve ourselves in the Inner Sea. Our place is here.”

Iakhovas hooked her chin with his talon hard enough to nearly bring blood. “Because it is as Sekolah wills. You’re a hypocrite, little malenti. You took Huaanton to task because he wanted a sign from the Great Shark that what we were doing was as Sekolah willed it. Now, here I am, proof of that sign, and yet you refuse to believe. You want still further proof.”

“I don’t see what the Inner Sea-“

Enough! Iakhovas roared in her mind.

Laaqueel’s knees buckled from the pain of the mental shout, and she fell to the deck.

“Do you want proof?” Iakhovas demanded. “Or do you want to believe? One is not the same as the other.”

Tears came to Laaqueel’s eyes because she knew what he said was true. The difference between knowledge and faith was the first lesson Senior Priestess Ghaataag had taught her when she took her into Sekolah’s temple. So often as a child Laaqueel had drawn Ghaataag’s wrath for doubting.

“You can have proof standing before you, little malenti, and still doubt what you see. As for belief, once you can weigh it and measure it, that belief becomes knowledge. Belief is something that can’t be proven in this world of physical restraint, but it can’t be broken either. Yet it is the strongest of things that exist in the world. Believing is much stronger than knowing.”

Laaqueel continued crying silently, remembering all the times Ghaataag had made her go pray on her knees on a bed of broken coral until she was able to excise the doubt that had touched her then. She was so, so weak.

“No, little malenti,” Iakhovas said more gently. “You’re not weak. You’re stronger than you know, but you’re fighting yourself and you’re finding yourself to be a more formidable opponent than any you’ve ever known. You stood the test of your priestesshood, and you found answers to questions that no one even knew existed until you came along.” His voice grew fierce with pride. “How dare you call yourself weak.”

His words calmed her a little, and they gave her back a measure of self-respect she’d been missing.

“I saw you stand up to Huaanton when he doubted in Sekolah. He could have taken your head then, claiming you to be mentally unbalanced by the aberration of your birth. You believed Sekolah would spare you then because you were right and you were standing up for him.”

“I didn’t know that he would.”

Iakhovas smiled down at her. “That’s what I said, little malenti. You didn’t know. You believed. I only ask you to believe now.” He offered her his hand and helped her to her feet.

Laaqueel regained control over her emotions with effort. Despite the fact that she wanted him to be wrong, Iakhovas was right. Belief was all she had in her life.

“I am the source of your greatest strength, little malenti,” he told her softly. “I shall push you and goad you and shape you into your belief. Because I, by my very nature and the things we must accomplish together, will strip away everything in you that does not believe. Every weakness in you will be worn away by my actions, by the things Sekolah would have us accomplish. Your doubt shall forge us both into our destiny. Mark you that I only mentioned one such destiny. We shall arrive there together, and it will be glorious.”

It was so easy to believe his words, but she had no choice really. What was she without her belief? She had the gifts Sekolah had given her, powers that no male sahuagin would ever know. What was there to doubt, except the man who stood before her?

He reached for her, touching her cheek with the back of his hand. It felt smooth and strong, and she found herself drawing away out of embarrassment. The feeling wasn’t just out of the familiarity with which he chose to approach her, but because of the feeling his touch stirred within her.

“Ah, little malenti, you find the hungers of the alien flesh you wear have awakened.” Iakhovas smiled darkly. “Bloody Falkane must have had quite an effect on you.”

“What do you want?” she asked.

“From you, little malenti? Only your assistance. I find myself invulnerable to the charms you possess. Unlike Bloody Falkane, I find myself in no need of a spy within my ranks.”

“I don’t think his interest was purely for those reasons. He has loathsome habits.”

“His reasons, whatever they are, I can guarantee you are anything but pure. So beware his charms, little malenti, because I’m told they’re quite considerable.”

Angry and embarrassed, Laaqueel turned away.

“Now I’ve offended you.”

“No.”

“You can’t hide your true feelings from me. You should know that by now.” Iakhovas spoke a word.

Instantly, the ship disappeared beneath them and Laaqueel dropped into the ocean. The water closed over her, taking her down and holding her close, the truest and only companion she’d ever known.

Across from her, Iakhovas caught the ship-in-the-bottle again and swam down. “Let’s go check on my navy, little malenti. I’ve got an invasion to get underway.”

XXI

“Something I can help you with, boy?”

Jherek bridled at the man’s tone but calmed himself quickly. Emotion wasn’t going to get him any closer to his objective. “I’m looking for someone.”

The bartender set down a mostly clean glass and picked up another one, treating it to a quick bath in the dirty water in front of him, then drying it with the threadbare towel over his shoulder. He was broad and thick, with muscle that had marbled to fat over the years. A long gray fringe surrounded his gleaming pate, and an axe blade scar dented his forehead.

Behind him on the wall were rows of bottles containing different colored liquids. Two tapped ale kegs lay on their sides on rolling carts, and gruesomely displayed above them were seven koalinth heads. They’d been poorly mounted, and the piggish faces and floppy ears of the marine hobgoblins wrinkled and stretched hideously. The light green skin flaked off in several patches.

“This someone’s got to have a name before I can help you,” the bartender said. “That’s how it usually works best.”

Jherek flushed with embarrassment. Subterfuge was something new to him and he wasn’t very good at it. He guessed he’d about strained his limit while keeping his identity secret from Glawinn and Sabyna.

“He calls himself Vurgrom,” the young sailor said. “Vurgrom the Mighty.”

The bartender looked at Jherek thoughtfully. He picked up a wooden splinter from the counter and worked it between his teeth for a moment. He never blinked.

Jherek met the man’s level gaze, knowing he and his companions were in danger.

The Bent Mermaid had the reputation of being one of the worst taverns in Westgate-both in provender and clientele. It stood three stories tall and looked out over the neck of the Lake of Dragons. Docks stabbed long fingers out into the sea and ships from a dozen and more countries occupied the slips and stood at anchor out in the harbor.

“What business do you have with Vurgrom?” the bartender asked.

“Personal,” Jherek said.

The bartender looked over the young sailor’s shoulder. “Him too?”

Without glancing back, Jherek knew the man was talking about Glawinn. The knight stood out in the dark den of the tavern. When he’d first entered, sailors standing close to the paladin had drawn back and found other tables and places to stand.

“Aye,” Jherek answered.

The bartender shook his head. “Don’t know no Vurgrom.”

Jherek looked the man in the face, hard, knowing it was a lie. “We were told he’d be here.”

“By who?”

Jherek ignored the question. The old sailor who’d given them the information had no love for the pirate leader. “We were told Vurgrom arrived here three days ago.”

According to the old sailor, the pirate captain had taken a ship in from the River Tun, sailing in from the Storm Horn Mountains while Jherek and his companions had been forced to cross the distance overland.

“Somebody told you wrong,” the bartender said.

Anger flared through Jherek. The journey had been hard and made even harder by the tension that seemed to exist between Sabyna and him. Glawinn had noticed it, the young sailor had been sure, but had refrained from making comment.

The only times he’d really felt relaxed during the journey had been when he and the knight had practiced swordcraft. The young sailor had gotten sore from the daily exertion at first, but had quickly come up to speed, surprising the knight with his skill. Still, there were skills and tricks that Glawinn had taught him and continued to teach him.

“Malorrie.”

Jherek heard Sabyna’s voice at his side, then felt her touch upon his arm. “Aye, lady,” he said, turning to her because he didn’t want to be disrespectful.

“Leave it.”

The young sailor thought briefly of arguing. Returning the pearl disk was his task to accomplish, and no matter how she felt about helping him because of what he’d done for her, she obviously didn’t feel as strongly about it as he did. He knew the pirate was inside the tavern.

“Please,” the ship’s mage said in a soft voice. Her copper-colored eyes held his.

Jherek let out a deep breath. “Aye. I’m done here, anyway.”

“You going to be drinking anything?” the bartender asked.

“Not if I wiped those glasses myself,” Jherek told him, venting a little of the hostility he felt.

“Then you need to clear out of my tavern,” the man told him. “I got a rule about people coming in to take up tables and not spending any coin.”

“Do you have any rules about the clientele you serve?” Jherek asked. “I definitely see no scruples.” He was aware that his words drew the attention of a dozen men around the front of the bar.

The sailors shifted in their chairs, taking offense. Jherek didn’t feel badly because he knew no honest sailor would patronize the Bent Mermaid, but he was afraid for a moment he’d overstepped his bounds and endangered Sabyna recklessly.

Glawinn strode forward and glared harshly at the men. The paladin carried his shiny helm in the crook of his arm, but his hand rested casually on the hilt of bis broadsword. “I’d not,” he said in a low, steady voice.

For a moment, the group of sailors held his gaze, then they turned away and hunkered back over their drinks.

“I only got one rule,” the bartender said, deliberately looking Jherek from head to toe, making the young sailor aware of his shoddy appearance. “I don’t serve vagrants.”

The men who’d backed down from Glawinn laughed contemptuously, slapping the table. Jherek’s face flamed in embarrassment. Glawinn had offered clothing, but none of the knight’s fit the young sailor’s bigger frame. Jherek wished he had something clever to say, a cutting remark that heroes in the romances always seemed to have at the tips of their tongues, but he didn’t.

Sabyna tugged on his arm and he went, suddenly aware how she looked leading him away. Gently, he tried to disengage himself but she kept her grip fast. Glawinn covered their backs as she led them from the tavern. She didn’t stop until they were half a block away, standing at one of the railings overlooking the docks and cattle yards below.

“The man back there was lying,” Jherek said.

“Aye,” Sabyna answered. The wind blew her jaw-length copper tresses around her face. She had her arms crossed, standing an arm’s length away from him to create distance even though they were close. “And what were you going to do? Beat it out of him with a whole room full of men watching on?”

Feeling himself willing to visit some of his anger on her, Jherek got control of himself. “Lady,” he said softly, “I apologize for my behavior. You deserve my thanks. You probably saved me from making a serious mistake.”

“Yes,” Glawinn agreed, “she did.”

Jherek looked back at the Bent Mermaid, feeling angry at the obscene sign that hung so large and proudly over the door.

“Vurgrom is inside,” Sabyna asked. “He has ten men with him. They’re waiting on his ship, Maelstrom, to arrive.”

“How do you know that?”

The ship’s mage smiled. “I asked one of the serving girls. If you want to know something, ask someone who has the most reason to tell it. The bartender’s major profits are made from the pirates, but most of the girls despise Vurgrom and his ilk. None of the women work there very long. If you’ve been around taverns like the Bent Mermaid, you know that,”

“Aye,” Jherek said, feeling chagrined. He hadn’t been around taverns much, not good ones or bad ones, and not even the ones in Velen more than enough to be marginally social with Butterfly’s crew. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“It doesn’t make it any easier,” Sabyna said. “Vurgrom’s on the third floor and I was told he has it sealed off. He’s conducting some kind of business there.”

“What business?” Glawinn asked.

“The girl I talked to didn’t know.”

Jherek studied the building, feeling the anger hi him dissipate as he recognized the new course of action open to him. “The building next to the tavern is as tall,” he pointed out.

“You’re thinking of crossing over to get Vurgrom now?” Sabyna asked.

“Aye,” Jherek answered and saw Glawinn smile.

“Do it,” he said.

Glawinn prayed to Lathander, gesturing Jherek to bend his head as well, then inscribed designs in the air. When the paladin finished, Jherek felt as though he’d suddenly gone deaf.

He looked up and tried to speak but no words came out.

The paladin shook his head and drew a hand across his throat, letting the young sailor know verbal communication was no longer possible. The spell even took away all the sounds coming from the docks, the pinging of rigging against masts, shouted commands, and the slap of the surf against the shore and pilings. Glawinn waved toward the other building.

Gathering himself, Jherek leaped across the distance from the flophouse roof to the Bent Mermaid next door. When his feet hit, there was no sound at all. He turned and watched as the paladin, then the ship’s mage jumped across the distance as well. The roof trembled beneath his feet, but there was no noise.

He hunkered down and went around the roof to the harbor side. Clinging to the roof’s edge, forty feet above where the ocean smashed up against the side of the Bent Mermaid, he lowered himself and peered through the windows along the wall.