of a man who has just cut off his own hand.
A muttering rose among the minotaurs. The stomping of heavy feet warned Vandor and his captors that Captain Kruug was returning.
'Prefect Stel! What in the name of Sargonnas have you done now? I will not risk my ship in this venture any more, threats or no — '
Stel raised his free hand and silenced the captain. He looked out at the sea in expectation.
For a short time, Vandor Grizt, like the rest, saw nothing out of the ordinary. The sea was calm and the storm clouds near motionless. The Blood Sea was as calm as a sleeping child.
Then it struck Vandor that this was out of ordinary.
The sea had calmed, the storm had ceased… with a suddenness that could only be called DIVINE in nature.
'Shinare…' Vandor whispered, once more wishing he had been just a little more consistent with his praying.
Moving a bit unsteadily, Prefect Stel turned on the sea captain. 'You were about to say, Kruug?'
It is not often that a minotaur can be taken aback by events, but Kruug was. The beastman swallowed hard and stared at the cleric with awe and not a little fear.
'I thought as much.' Stel said, evilly smiling. 'We are almost over the exact location, captain. I suggest you and your crew bring us to as dead a stop as you can.'
'Aye,' Kruug replied, nodding all the while. He whirled about and started shouting at the other minotaurs, taking out his fear and shame on his crew.
Stel turned to Vandor. The cleric smiled. 'It is as I hoped. Your blood is the key. She has heard us. She has given us her favor.'
'My blood? Key?' Vandor babbled.
'Oh, yes, Vandor Grizt, petty thief and purveyor of purloined properties, your blood! Can't you hear the voices?' The deep, black eyes behind the mask widened in anticipation. 'Can't you hear them calling you?'
'Who?' Vandor gasped.
'Your ancestors,' Stel said, looking at the sea.
'Prefect 1' The kapak was spluttering with fear. A tiny bit of acidic saliva splattered Vandor on the cheek. He flinched in pain, but there was nothing he could do with his arms pinned. 'Prefect, you sacrificed the Dreadwolf!'
'It was necessary. Chemosh will understand. Zeboim has to be placated. This venture is too important.'
'But the dreadwolf… it was bound to you by your lord!'
Stel's destruction of his ungodly pet had evidently taken much out of him and the kapak's reminder was only stirring the pain. If what the draconian said was true, then the prefect had wantonly destroyed a gift from his god in order to gain the favor of the Sea Queen.
A costly venture this, Vandor thought fearfully.
The skull mask made its wearer look like the embodiment of death itself. Stel's voice was so steady, so toneless, that both Vandor and the draconians shrank back in alarm.
'We are in the Sea Queen's domain. Even my lord Chemosh must be respectful of that. It is by his power that this task will be done, but it is by HER sufferance that we survive it!'
The skull necklace flared brighter, so bright that the two draconians and Vandor were forced to look away.
Stel shouted, 'Captain Kruug! This is the position! No farther!'
The minotaur dropped anchor; the vessel slowed, but continued to drift, giving Vandor a brief hope. But, the minotaurs turned the vessel about and slowly brought it back.
'Still a short time left,' Stel whispered. In a louder, more confident voice, he asked, 'Do you hear them, Vandor Grizt? Do you hear your ancestors calling you?'
Vandor, who could not trace his ancestors past his barely-remembered parents, heard nothing except bellowing minotaurs and the lightest breeze in the rigging. He refrained from responding however. The answer might mean life… or death. He needed to know a bit more to make the correct choice.
'You don't, do you?' Stel frowned. 'But you will. Your blood is the true blood, child of Kingpriests.'
'Kingpriests? Me?' Vandor stared blankly at his captor.
'Yes, Kingpriests.' Stel toyed with the dagger and stared off at the becalmed sea. 'It took me quite some time to find you, thanks to your nomadic lifestyle. I knew that I would not fail at what I undertook. I was the one who found the ancient temple, who understood what others of my order did not.'
'You have me completely at a loss, Master Stel,' Vandor quavered. 'You say I am a descendent of the Kingpriests?' As he asked, Vandor shivered uncontrollably. He remembered suddenly what legend said lay at the bottom of the Blood Sea.
Istar… the holy city brought down by the conceit of its lord, the Kingpriest. In the blackest depths of the Blood Sea lay the ruins of the holy city… and the rest of the ancient country for that matter.
'Of direct descent.' Stel touched the blazing skull. 'This charm marks you as such, as it marks where the great temples… and storehouses… of Istar sank. The spells I cast upon it make it drawn to all things — including people — that possess a strong affinity with Istar. The charm was carved out of a stone from the very temple where I found the records, duplicates preserved by the magic of the zealous acolytes of the Kingpriest. Preserved but forgotten, for those who had stored them there either perished with the city or abandoned the place after their homeland was no more.'
'Please, Master Stel.' Vandor hoped for more information, though he had no idea what good it could do him. 'What great wonder did these records hold that would make you search for one as unworthy as myself?'
Stel chuckled — a raspy, grating sound. 'During the last days of Istar, the Kingpriest persecuted and murdered many such as myself. The clerics of good stole many objects of evil from the bodies of clerics of Takhisis, Sargonnas, Morgion, Chemosh. The fools who followed the Kingpriest either could not destroy these powerful artifacts… or found them too tempting to destroy, just in case they could find uses for them.'
Vandor Grizt almost laughed aloud. It was too absurd. He knew how easily such rumors got started. He'd created a few himself in order to sell his wares. The Knights of Solamnia were rumored to have once stored such evil clerical items, but no one had ever actually SEEN one. A REAL one, that is. Still, the cleric did not seem a man who would be chasing after… ghosts.
A thought occurred to Vandor Grizt. 'I am certain, Master Stel, that you must have been pleased to find records of your stolen property. But if that property is at the bottom of the sea…'
The cleric looked knowingly at Vandor. 'Of course, I knew that the treasures I sought — the talismans of my predecessors — were out of my reach. Even a necromancer such as myself could not summon the ancients of Istar. Their tomb lies buried deep beneath the sea; they do not dwell in my lord's domain. But, if I use the blood of kin — however many generations distant — I might be able to summon these dead.'
Vandor Grizt was skeptical. 'If I am related to the… um… Kingpriests, how did you find me?'
'I told you I will permit nothing to remain beyond my grasp. I followed the pull of the skull talisman, traveling through land after land until it led me to you in Takar. You are as great a charlatan — in your own way — as your ancestors. It was simple to trap you.'
The sivak draconian laughed.
'Now,' Stel continued, 'we are almost at the end of my quest. There is one item in particular — relic of Chemosh — that I have sought ever since I discovered its existence. A pendant on a chain, it may be the most powerful talisman ever created, an artifact that can raise a legion of the undying to serve the wearer!'
The image of hundreds, perhaps thousands, of undead warriors marching over the countryside was enough to sink even Vandor's jaded heart.
Stel grimaced. 'Do not think that I will neglect the other treasures, though. I will be able to pick and choose! I will wield power like no other!'
The familiar stomping that marked Captain Kruug's coming sent a shiver through Vandor.
'We're as steady as we can be, Prefect Stel! If you're going to do anything, do it now!'
Stel looked up into the eerie night sky. 'Yes, the time is close enough, I think.' To the draconians, he barked, 'Stretch the fool's arm over the altar!'
Shinare! Vandor tried praying again, but he kept forgetting the proper words and losing his place in the
