gesture. 'I thought the matter had been decided,' Vallus said.
'Not as far as I'm concerned,' Teldin replied. His sudden ire melted under the elf s mild, earnest gaze, and he raked a hand through his hair and swallowed his frustration. Vallus Leafbower obviously was doing all he could to help, and from the elven wizard's perspective Lionheart was the best way to go. The elf didn't have a clue why that idea might bother Teldin.
'Look, Vallus, I trust you about as much as I do anyone, but I'm not sure that walking into the elven stronghold would be a wise move. Too many people want this cloak too badly. If some group of elves in Lionheart decided to take it, there isn't much I could do to stop them.'
'I see,' Vallus said slowly. Teldin noticed that the elf did not bother to contradict him. 'I take it you have an alternate plan?'
'Well, almost,' Teldin said with a wry smile. Out of the corner of his eye. he saw Gaston Willowmere, the ship's first mate. He quickly flipped aside his cloak so that the captain's insignia was prominently displayed, then he caught the first mate's arm as he rushed past.
Gaston did a double take at the sight of the emblem on a human's chest, but he quickly pulled himself up and snapped off a salute. 'Aye, Captain?'
'Take off as scheduled and follow the course you were given until you hear from me otherwise,' Teldin said crisply. 'Oh, and one more thing,' he added as the elf started to turn away. 'Find Hectate Kir and send him to the bridge immediately.'
The first mate saluted again and hurried off to tend to his orders. A high, piping signal floated out over the deck, and everywhere the crew members braced for takeoff. The swan ship lifted smoothly out of the Evermeet harbor and rose into the morning sky.
Vallus arched a silver eyebrow. In response to the silent inquiry, Teldin said sternly, 'If I'm to be the captain of this ship, there's one thing you're going to have to do.'
'Oh?' the elf replied. His angular face showed a touch of apprehension.
Teldin's scowl collapsed into a teasing grin. 'You're going to have to show me where the bridge is,' he said.
*****
Working quickly, K'tide's informant slipped his latest message into one of the tiny, specially designed boxes he'd been given. Since coming aboard the swan ship, he'd had second thoughts about his assignment and he'd been less than faithful about sending them regularly, but this one he sent the moment the swan ship broke free of Toril's atmosphere. He spoke the words that activated the magical tracking device, then tossed the box into a refuse barrel.
His lowly work assignment brought him hours of tedium, but it also gave him access to the ship's cargo doors. He jettisoned the barrel and two others and watched them tumble out into wildspace. Reaching into a pocket, he took out a small, specialized looking glass and squinted out at the barrels. Sure enough, one of them gave off a pulsing, greenish light that would easily be detected by the crew of the shrike ship that shadowed Teldin Moore. The thought of those proud beings sorting through the elves' garbage for their message brought a tight smile to the informant's lips. Not taking any particular precaution-no one who saw him perform this 'duty' would spare him a second glance-he turned and made his way to his quarters.
Some time later, the barrel was picked up by the shrike ship. The message brought excitement to them all, even the usually peevish wizard. Immediately he took out his scrying crystal to send messages to K'tide and to the Clan Kir members stationed on Garden. The moment they had so long awaited was at hand.
The swan ship was headed for Lionheart!
*****
A barrage of firepower-a final gift from the retreating elven forces-shook the massive frame of the ogre dinotherium. The ship-to-ship battle was over, but the crew of the
At a safe distance, K'tide followed Grimnosh on his rounds of the troops. The scro general was livid over the loss of so many of his best fighters, and his veneer of culture could be stretched only so thin. K'tide doubted that Grimnosh would actually lose his temper, but the scro had a way of calmly issuing the most appalling orders when riled. Adding to the spy master's discomfort was the chill; the hold was deliberately kept cold to slow the flow of the goblinkin blood. K'tide's insectlike exoskeleton provided him little protection from the cold, and he drew his brown cloak closer as he moved stiffly after the scro general.
The sound of chanting wove through the cries of the wounded. One of the scro war priests was tending to a badly wounded half-orc, a female whose heavy leather armor- and a good deal of her brownish hide-had been split from gut to gizzard by an elven sword. Grimnosh stalked over to the priest and dropped a huge white paw on his shoulder. The priest stopped in midchant.
'Perhaps you might direct your efforts more judiciously, good father,' the scro suggested, voicing the title with heavy irony. Grimnosh gestured pointedly to the two scro lying on nearby pallets. 'Heal one of those.'
'But which?' stammered the unnerved priest.
Grimnosh's brows rose, and his expression plainly inquired why it was necessary for him to tend to such matters himself. Nevertheless he crossed the distance to the wounded scro and stooped over their pallets. He took up and examined their
The general took K'tide's arm and drew him to the side of the room. 'They'll be back,' he said grimly. 'We must have new troops. Do whatever you must, but I want the Armistice fleet.'
'Surely the scro rulers could reassign a few squadrons to your command on a temporary basis,' K'tide prevaricated. His people had been making regular shipments, and, in truth, the goblinkin were almost battle-ready, but K'tide had no intention of releasing the new troops. The alliance with Grimnosh was a convenient ploy, no more. In his opinion, this second Unhuman War was a marvelous thing. With the elves and goblinoids decimated, there would be more room in wildspace for his own kind.
'Just order up a few squadrons, eh?' Grimnosh glared at the spy master. 'If the scro had troops to spare, do you think I'd take the risks involved with the Armistice plan?' the general asked with a touch of exasperation.
'But with a fresh supply of troops so near at hand, surely the scro command could make an exception for you,' K'tide pointed out.
Grimnosh's tiny pause was telling.
'Your superiors do not know about the Armistice project,' K'tide stated as objectively as he could. To reveal a trace of the elation he felt over this news would be courting certain death. Still, he could not resist adding, 'I take it they would not approve?'
'The scro command approves of success,' the general said. He spun and walked away, absently resuming his rounds of the infirmary. 'Once I get the Armistice troops, I'll have the strength needed to launch an attack on the elven communities of Radole. Once we control this crystal sphere, we will go on to Realmspace. I must have those troops,' he reiterated.
'But we must destroy Lionheart first,' K'tide said firmly as he hurried to keep up with the scro.
'Must we? Perhaps you'd be so kind as to explain why,' Grimnosh said with dangerous calm. He stopped to examine a black-hided scro warrior who, despite a number of grievous wounds, had propped himself against a wall in a ramrod straight pose. Even so, the scro's eyes were glazed and his breathing shallow. It was apparent to K'tide that the warrior would die if not tended soon. Grimnosh reached for the scro's
'Oh, Nimick,' he called out, spotting his gray-green adjutant in the doorway. 'Be a good fellow and put this soldier down.'
