'We will, little malenti. You'll see.' Iakhovas gazed at her, resolutely and calm. 'We can't free our people without taking the war we'll be waging to Myth Nantar. The sea elves must be broken again.'
'What about the weapon they have?'
'That weapon…' Iakhovas mused. 'I depend on that weapon of theirs, little malenti, and I depend on their faith to use it against me.'
Laaqueel controlled her fears through discipline learned in her calling. Her lack of faith in Iakhovas himself was lessened as he revealed everything to her so calmly. He was undertaking the effort to free the other sahuagin in spite of all the odds against him. There could be no greater task that Sekolah would put before him.
Or her.
The realization of that made her proud. The Great Shark had tested her in the past, given her a birth defect that should have caused her death either as a hatchling or at any time growing up, and he'd given her all her massive doubts to overcome. Now that she knew what it was all for, she realized it had only been to make her stronger-strong enough to go to a land-locked sea and free those who'd never known freedom, to fulfill the future of her people while shattering the prophecies of the hated sea elves.
'Most Exalted One,' Laaqueel said, assuming the open and defenseless stance of a sahuagin facing another in a position of authority, spreading her arms out to her sides to leave herself open to attack. She kept her eyes down out of deference to him. 'In the past I've been doubtful and borderline rebellious toward you. I now pledge to you my complete allegiance and my promise never to work against you.'
'And your doubts? Will those continue to plague you?'
'I swear by Sekolah the Uncaring that I will struggle with those,' Laaqueel said. She stared at the wall, and her hatred grew anew for all the surface dwellers. This wall was blasphemy.
'That's good enough for me,' Iakhovas said. 'In return, I promise that through us the Great Shark will find a way to destroy that wall and free those who have been trapped there for so long.' He touched the crystal brain coral.
Slowly, the image held inside dimmed, but Laaqueel knew she would never forget that hateful wall.
Iakhovas pushed himself up from his chair. 'Come, Most Sacred One.'
The malenti was surprised to hear him use the title with such respect. She straightened herself, accepting the responsibility of the office she'd been thrown into. Her doubts could no longer confine her, no longer take away her strength. She was a child of Sekolah, and the Great Shark had designed a grand current for her to ride. She would follow it with straight fins and without hesitation. Anyone who tried to stop her would die.
'Let us allow our warriors to see us in our coming glory that their hearts may be strengthened before we take them into the land of fire. We have many plans to make.'
She followed him, certain with every stroke that she was going toward her destiny.
XXIV
28 Kythorn, the Year of the Gauntlet
'Your lady doesn't approve of you working on this ship. I think she believes you should only be a passenger.'
Jherek felt a flush of embarrassment when he realized Azla was standing beside him. The ship's captain wore tight black breeches with flaring cuffs over boots and a black leather vest with silver embroidery. Her scimitar and dirk hung at her side.
'She's not my lady,' Jherek replied, 'we're merely friends.'
He glanced up at the stern castle where Sabyna stood and felt guilty. Sabyna definitely didn't like the idea of the young sailor working around the pirate vessel. However, Sabyna had been working with Azla's own ship's mage, an old man named Arthoris who'd spent his entire life on the Sea of Fallen Stars. It took both their efforts to keep Black Champion racing after Vurgrom's pirate ships. The small pirate fleet consisted of four vessels, headed up by Maelstrom, Vurgrom's personal ship. So far, none of the pirate vessels had seemed to spot them. Black Champion trailed out of sight, locked onto its prey by a spell Arthoris had cast.
Azla crossed her arms over her breasts and glanced up in irritation at Sabyna. 'Aye, I hear you,' she said, 'but that's not the understanding I get when I look at her. Either I'm wrong or you're mistaken.' She turned her dark gaze back on him. 'Would you care to put a wager on which likelihood is more correct?'
Jherek flushed again. 'No, lady.'
He tried to return his attention to the sail he was mending. The cloth was in fairly good shape, showing some definite time put to hard use at sea, but it was serviceable. At least, it would be after all the great rents were repaired.
'No, Cap'n,' Azla corrected without rancor but with definite steel in her voice.
'No, Captain,' Jherek said. He drew more of the thick thread for his needle, measured off a length, then knotted the end of the twin strands. He returned his attention to his sewing.
'I'll tell you now,' Azla said, dropping a hand to her scimitar, 'I've never suffered the presence of anyone on my ship who made me feel ill at ease.'
'She doesn't mean anything by it.' Jherek fumbled for words, desperately seeking some answer to the problem the two women had presented him. Over the past few days, both women had sought him out and talked to him about the other. When he'd asked Glawinn for advice, the paladin had only smiled at him and lifted his sword to begin Jherek's training anew. The young sailor had been thankful for the swordplay. At least for a time it had taken his thoughts from the friction between the two women, even if it left him bone-tired afterward.
'I don't see how that could be true,' Azla snapped. 'Her disapproval of me isn't unintentional.'
Jherek blew out a tight breath, wondering if he was about to make matters worse. 'It isn't you she disapproves of, Captain. It's pirates in general. Her brother was killed by one.'
Azla returned his gaze.
'Sabyna was just a child when it happened,' Jherek explained. 'She saw the whole thing. She'll never forget that.'
Surprisingly, Azla's face softened. She looked away from Jherek and back up at the young woman standing in Black Champion's stern. 'Aye, then she'll never forget or forgive.'
'No,' Jherek said, knowing it was true. 'I don't think she will.'
Azla was quiet for a moment, alone with thoughts that captured all of her attention. She shook her head slightly and grimaced. 'Who was the pirate?'
Jherek focused on mending the sail again. 'A man named Falkane. He's called Bloody Falkane and the Salt Wolf.'
'I've not heard of him,' Azla said.
'Falkane's well known along the Sword Coast.' Jherek took up another stitch, pulling the sailcloth neatly together. The spacing was important if the sail was to fit correctly again.
'He's still alive?'
'Aye.' Jherek remembered seeing Bunyip in Baldur's Gate, and the eerie wail echoed again in his mind. He shivered in spite of the balmy heat that lay over the Sea of Fallen Stars.
'That must be a hard burden to carry,' Azla commented, then called out briefly to her crew, ordering sails trimmed.
'Anything associated with Falkane is a hard burden.'
Jherek tried not to let too much bitterness sound in his voice, but knew he failed. He hadn't even intended to speak his thoughts, but they'd been too strong to remain mute. Thankfully Azla seemed so busy with her crew for the moment that she didn't notice. He took out more of the thick thread.
'You've got a steady hand with that needle,' Azla told him a moment later.
'Thank you.' Jherek took up another stitch, gathering the material. Black Champion's speed increased and she slid across a large swell that lifted her up and set her back down quickly enough to roll the young sailor's stomach slightly.
'You're a sailor then?' she asked him. 'Not like your paladin friend?'
'Aye. Nearly all I've known is the sea.'
