At first he couldn’t make out anything except the bubbles striking the crystal in the bottom of the bucket. ‘Stick your face in a bit,’ said Ned. ‘It’ll help get your eyes adjusted.’
Taking the experienced salvager’s advice, Brendan found that it was just big enough to accommodate his face and leaning in actually helped him keep the bucket in place. For a few moments the darkness below and the froth of bubbles confused his vision, but soon he began to see shapes and movement.
As his eyes adjusted he began to make out creatures busily scurrying across the bottom of the sea floor, perhaps a hundred feet below the boat. They were frog-like, man-sized, with large shoulders and narrow lower bodies, long legs and arms. The light was too dim and the distance too great for more detail, but just the sight of them made Brendan’s hair stand up on his neck and arms.
The creatures were churning up the sea bed. There was no tunnel of magic or bubble leaking air, but there was something buried under the mud of the ocean floor and they were clearing it away. Like ants swarming, they were constantly moving across an increasingly larger opening. The churning of the sea bed was releasing bubbles adhering to the surface of whatever was under the mud they were moving, and the rising bubbles further confused Brendan’s view.
He caught glimpses of a shape beneath the tireless creatures and wondered what it was. He thought for a moment it might be an ancient statue of heroic proportion or a monument of some kind, for it was massive and only part of it had been uncovered.
Brendan lifted his head from the bucket and scanned the distant shore to the west, but there was nothing out of the ordinary to be seen. Where had these creatures come from? Was this part of some Keshian plan to take the city? He looked back into the bucket. Far below, for a moment, he thought he could make out a contour then it was obscured by a swirling cloud of silt. It diminished as more of the creatures hauled away mud, gripping it in large ridged fins at the end of their arms, like elongated fingers with webbing between. Brendan calculated how long they had been aware of these bubbles in the city, and decided these creatures had been working for several hours, possibly from late afternoon or early evening the day before. He peered deeper into the gloom.
The shape
Then he saw something move, not among the workers, but as if the head of the statue had turned slightly. He tried moving the bucket but the bubbles obscured his vision.
Then they cleared and he could now make out the ridge of an eye and a cheekbone, the bridge of a nose and part of the nose itself.
Then the eye opened and a globe of fiery red stared at Brendan.
Suddenly the creatures that were clearing away the bottom mud stopped their activity and looked up at the boat. Brendan jerked his head up and shouted, ‘Back to shore! Closest landing place!’
The urgency of the command wasn’t lost on the Pevy boy, who immediately put his back into pulling on the oars and the rowing boat nearly leapt forward. Brendan stood up, and the young salvager turned soldier shouted, ‘Sit down … ah, sir! You’ll turn us over.’
Brendan ignored the request and drew his sword. ‘Whatever happens, don’t go in the water!’ He set his feet as best he could in the now wildly bobbing boat, attempting to keep his balance. The first creature reached the surface mere yards behind the boat and stuck its head out of the water.
The frog-like face scanned around, seeing Brendan and Ned a few yards away. It fixed large, bulbous yellow eyes on them. Then, with a gurgling cry, it dived under the water and sped towards the stern of the boat.
Brendan was stunned by how fast the brute could move underwater. He could make out more of their forms undulating just below the surface as they chased after the boat.
The first frog-being reached the boat and two green scaled, webbed hands with long green talons reached up to grab the gunwales. Brendan slashed down and chopped off several fingers as the creature started to pull itself upward. The cry of pain was more a watery gurgle than anything else and the frog-beast released its grip and fell back below the surface.
The next creature didn’t bother trying to crawl aboard: rather it leapt up out of the water, like a dolphin dancing on its tail, and fell towards Brendan.
The youngest brother of the new Duke of Crydee was hardly a battle-tested warrior, but he had seen enough in the last few weeks to test a veteran, and he knew that no matter what he faced, his worst choice was to panic.
Brendan measured his target and swung hard, knocking aside the creature as the blade dug deep into one of its shoulders. He almost lost his balance as the creature was flung to the right and he leaned left.
‘What!’ exclaimed Ned, almost dropping his oars.
‘Row!’ commanded Brendan as another creature leapt from the water. Brendan sliced sideways, removing the frog head from the creature’s shoulders, while trying to fend off the falling body with his left arm.
The thing’s corpse was only half Brendan’s size, but it was enough of an impact to knock Brendan backwards. Reaching out with his left arm to break his fall, he slammed into the bottom of the boat, causing it to rock dangerously. Ned attempted to keep it upright and still row furiously.
Another creature appeared over Brendan, who instinctively stuck up his sword, allowing the creature to impale himself on the point. It flopped frantically for a moment, making horrible gurgling, croaking sounds. The thing stank of decaying fish and ocean mud and Brendan could not get his free hand any purchase on the creature’s slippery skin as he tried to get it off him.
A brief shadow told Brendan another of the things was leaping into the boat, and he felt the boat wobble and then heard the heavy thud of wood accompanied by a gurgling cry of pain followed by a splash. Brendan brought his knees up and then pushed with his free hand and knees and the now-dead creature atop of him rolled to his left.
Now two more of the sea dwellers were attempting to grip the gunwales. They might not be able to come aboard in sufficient numbers to swarm the two humans, but Brendan had no doubt he and Ned would be dead men within minutes of hitting the water.
Ned had been barking his knuckles with his oar, smashing the frog creatures hard enough that they released the boat. He pulled his oar out of the way as Brendan returned to dealing with their foes, slashing down and removing fingers. The creatures released their hold on the boat. Ned lowered the oar and put it back in the oarlock and again started rowing.
Brendan saw more ripples in the water attempting to overtake them, and got ready for another assault. The creatures came to within striking distance, but as Brendan readied himself, the two frog-like beings just turned and headed off in the opposite direction.
After waiting a moment, Brendan put up his sword. ‘I guess they were more interested in chasing us away than catching us.’
‘What were those things?’ said Ned.
Brendan looked back and saw that the stocky youth was pale and wide eyed, and still rowing as if they were being chased.
‘I don’t know.’ As they approached the shore, Brendan pointed to the bow behind Ned and added, ‘We’re getting into the ground swell. Slow down a bit.’
With a grin that bordered on the panic-stricken, Ned said, ‘Been doing this all my life, sir. Don’t even think about it. I’ll have us in safely.’ The rapidity of his speech and his ashen face testified to just how frightened he was, yet he kept his head and rowed quickly to shore.
Someone at the city gate had been watching closely for as they pulled the boat up on the beach, six riders reined in before Brendan, all Crydee veterans. Brendan motioned to a young soldier near his own age. ‘William, help young Ned here take the boat back to its shed.’ William jumped down from the saddle and handed his reins to Brendan. To Ned, the youngest conDoin son said, ‘Well done.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ said Ned his face splitting to a smile for a brief second, then his eyes turned to where they had been beset by the water creatures and his expression turned grim again.
‘I know,’ Brendan said. Then he mounted and without another word signalled for his escort to follow him back to the city gate.
Martin listened to Brendan’s report in the privacy of the mayor’s office, which he had commandeered as his command centre. The mayor, Captain Bolton, and the two senior sergeants, Ruther and Magwin, all listened, along
