by David Dickie
Finally, he said. “You have aroused my curiosity. You’ve deliberately angered Prejack and Kragull. Not a typical human response to one of my kind. You are clearly not suicidal. You must feel confident in your position, that I need you enough to protect you from both of them. You know something about the situation I do not, or you are presumptuous, or you are playing a game. Which is it?”
Dulaguk’s common was clearer and more fluent than the other two ohulhug. He watched Grim with sharp eyes. Dulaguk was more than smart. He read people, had an emotional intelligence the other two were lacking. This was going to be harder than Grim had been hoping for. He weighed a few different responses and finally settled on, “Diplomacy is always a game, my Lord. This time the stakes are just a bit higher than usual.”
Dulaguk smiled. Ohulhug teeth were sharp and pointed. Grim hoped he wouldn’t do it again. “And a game of words as well. So, human, tell me. Why do I need you so badly?”
Grim wasn’t sure if Dulaguk meant he should guess why Dulaguk had kept him alive, or why he was so sure he could offer something to Dulaguk. Both, he decided. “You would hardly have dragged me all the way here if there was something you did not want. If you want something, I have value, I have something to barter with. At the same time, there are things I can offer that you may find beneficial. Things that might avoid unnecessary bloodshed.”
Dulaguk looked relaxed, but he was paying close attention. “And you are so convinced these are sufficient that you push my people into beating you senseless? I did not think that was how diplomacy worked, at least among humans.”
Grim shrugged uncomfortably. He didn’t know how diplomacy was done at the level Rotan dealt with.
Dulaguk suddenly looked more alert. “There is more than that, isn’t there? What are you trying to accomplish?”
“Nothing, my lord, just trying to find a diplomatic solution to the problem.”
Dulaguk shook his head. “No. The problem is that I have this ship, that I can take Kethem merchants and warships when I want. There’s only one solution to that.” Dulaguk leaned back and looked at Grim thoughtfully. “Prejack acted foolishly, and he will be punished for it. But could he… are you wearing some kind of tracker? Are you expecting rescue? I assure you, it will not come, and that is thanks to you humans.”
Grim wasn’t sure what that meant, and Dulaguk picked that up.
Dulaguk said, “Humans traded the ohulhug a device that prevents scrying and divination spells from working. It was a ruse, because it was intended to allow us to attack Nyquet successfully, moving an army in place without their awareness. But either due to duplicity or some weakness they did not tell us, Nyquet was aware of our plans. Once again Orq Gremjir destroyed our forces.” Grim had no idea what Orq Gremjir was, but it seemed the wrong time to interrupt. “But your naval officer, Fayyaad, he confirmed it was effective, that Kethem spells could not detect or predict our movements if we had it on board.” Dulaguk stopped. “But you could have other things,” he said slowly.
He went still for a moment, arm outstretched. Grim could tell it was a spell, but he didn’t know what spell it was. Dulaguk relaxed and frowned. “No magic. So. I will be honest with you. I want to know how far these negotiations between Kethem and the Pranan City-States of Tendut and Penne have gone. How much time I have. But you are playing some other game. So I think I should just kill you and be done with it.”
Grim thought about fine lines, razor-sharp lines, lines you sliced yourself open on trying to walk them. This was one of those times. What would Dulaguk believe? What could Grim offer that sounded plausible? And, more importantly, how could he then turn it to his advantage, to getting Dulaguk to let him touch Oracle?
“Fayyaad told me about your new capabilities, this technology stuff. He also told me you need time to get all the information you require to complete your next ship, that if you lose the shipyard you will be set back, perhaps permanently.”
Dulaguk sat still for a moment. “No. The human was under my control. He would not tell you that. He would not risk crossing me. I owned him.”
Grim nodded. “The risk was greater not telling me. We slipped away twice already, and then we made a deal with the Storm Bull priests on the way up the river to use a teleportal in Rotkruz, changed our plan to go to Nyquet. If we made it there, I’d be in Tendut before you could capture me. He was desperate. So he told me, and suggested a deal.”
Dulaguk said, “I am listening.”
“You give us access to this technology. We share the knowledge of these devices. We build these ships together, as allies.”
Dulaguk laughed. “And why would I do that? The shipyard would be a setback, but I am already working on another, and I have the information I need for the next class of ohulhug warship. Even if you could destroy the first shipyard, it would be a short victory. Why would I let you have the same power as I? You keep calling me ‘my Lord.’ I know what that term means to humans, to be part of an elite group. Ohulhug do not have groups. We have a leader, and everyone else. My title is Nadgaj Oknar, war leader. My kind does not share power.”
Grim was trying not to react to Dulaguk’s words, particularly that he already had what he needed to build his next class of ship. In that case, getting rid of Oracle might rid the world of something evil, but it wouldn’t stop Dulaguk.
Grim said, “You shared power during the ohulhug-human wars.”
“We shared an objective. That is different. There was more to gain from attacking humans than attacking each other. But no clan was subservient to another. No Nadgaj Oknar bowed before another Nadgaj Oknar.”
Grim nodded. “And you lost because of it. So, let’s say you build your ship. Let’s say you could build two. You would invincible on the high seas. What then? You take a Pranan City-State, ok. You sail away, it falls. You have these weapons, and low ohulhug to use them. How long before the people you subjugated learn how they are built? How long before they are turned on you? What if I could offer you real power, power that lasts?”
Dulaguk was listening, and Grim could see his curiosity was growing. “Power over what?” asked Dulaguk.
“How about Pranan? All of it, not just one City-State.”
“And you would hand me this? How?”
“By giving you an army. A loyal army. A human army. Kethem military will join forces with you. While Tendut and Penne’s soldiers are marching on the shipyard, we will take both cities. We can land Kethem Guard, give you foot soldiers than can take and hold territory. More, we can infiltrate the City-States. The gates could be open when you sweep in. We can make all that happen.”
Dulaguk was thinking. Grim could see the wheels spinning. The danger here was that the yarn Grim was spinning might actually be attractive enough for Dulaguk to seriously consider it. That wasn’t Grim’s end game. It was time to up the ante.
“Let me make it easier for you. You wanted to know how far along negotiations are? They’re over. The Kethem Navy and Tendut and Penne ground troops are moving now. I was just going to discuss the final financials, how we split costs and any gains from the shipyard. You’re building a new one, great. You lose all the people, the skills, all the knowledge that went into building your first ship that exist in that one place. How far back will that set you? How much is that worth? You know you will take this deal. It’s your only option.”
This time, Grim hit the mark. The cold calculations running behind Dulakug’s eyes were replaced with a spark of heat, of anger. Ohulhug didn’t share power. And, Grim was realizing, they didn’t like someone standing up to them, thought it was a sign of weakness to back down in any game of will. Dulaguk sat back.
“Really, human? You think I have no options? I have weapons that can decimate a human army, utterly destroy it. You think Orq Gremjir was effective on our army, with its trebuchets and arbalests raining death down on us from a high point? More than four in five survived. With what I have, humans will be lucky if one in five do. And as for the Kethem Naval vessels, the
y will learn quickly that the cannons on the black ship have been upgraded. More power, more range, higher accuracy, faster firing rates. I will sink all of them, every ship you have.”
This was going exactly where Grim wanted it to. “Perhaps, if you knew where they were, three battalions of crack Tendut soldiers, four of Penne’s, with enchanter support units ready to protect against and deal magical damage. As it stands, you will have no time to deploy your weapons. You may sink a ship or two, but the shipyard is going to be destroyed, everyone there killed, down to the children. You will accept my offer. You have no other choice.” Grim was talking a bit of a chance there, because he didn’t know what a battalion was, or whether Tendut and Nyquet called them that, or anything at all about what the non-existent ground force would look like. But he was betting Dulaguk didn’t either. Grim just needed to sound like he knew much more than he did.
Dulaguk was angry now, the sparks turning into burning coals. “But you know where they are, don’t you? You clearly know the plans for this attack. All I need is the direction they will be coming from, and you will give it to me.”
Grim laughed. “Or what, you will have me beaten? So, whatever this punishment you meted out to Prejack, I hope it was pretty severe. I mean, he pounded me into unconsciousness. Beat me within an inch of my life. You think you can do worse than that? I won’t say I’d like to see you try, because I wouldn’t, but I’ll be happy knowing that you’ll fail. You cannot make me talk.”
Dulaguk nodded, clearly still furious. “I will give that to you, human, you know how to take pain. But everyone breaks at some point. I don’t have time to find out what your point is right now, but I will. You will find that dying is a mercy, and I am not merciful. In the meantime, I have something that can be much more persuasive in loosening your tongue. Did Fayyaad tell you why he was working for me?”
Grim tamped down on the surge of elation. Dulaguk had gone directly where Grim wanted him to go. “I don’t know. Money? Power? He’s a traitor, I didn’t care why he sold out.”
Dulaguk grinned with his sharp teeth showing. “Let me introduce you to Oracle.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Grim was in a large room in the belly of the black ship. In the center was a metal box bolted to the floor, maybe six inches on a side. Locked between metal plates at the top was the hilt of a sword, smooth silver and something that looked like leather but glinted with a luster that made it look more like onyx. Grim didn’t feel anything mentally, but the amulet around his neck was heating up, not enough to be uncomfortable but enough to be noticeable.
There were a half-dozen humans in the room, four men and two women. They were on chains that gave them enough freedom of movement to get within a few feet of the sword, but not to actually touch it. When he, Dulaguk, and two of Dulaguk’s low ohulhug honor guard entered the room, all of the prisoners had been standing with the chains stretched out to be as close to the sword as they could get, arms reaching desperately toward the hilt. When Dulaguk entered, all six had scuttled back with hopeful eyes on Dulaguk. A plaintive cry of “Me, pick me, please pick me,” began until one by one they noticed Grim. Then they fell silent with an expression of envy on their faces.
There was a longer chain as well, one that would let its wearer reach the sword. That chain was empty, its manacle waiting for the lucky recipient, the one that would hold Oracle. Grim didn’t understand why they needed it for a moment. Then he realized the only way to get someone to let go without getting close to the sword yourself was to drag them back.
All six of the humans were old. One turned to Grim. Grim looked more carefully, and realized the man was not so much old as shrunken. Not in the skin-on-bones way of the enchanter who had healed Grim. This was more like the man was collapsing in on himself, like things were eating him from the inside out.
“They don’t like to get close. If you get close, you want to hold her. Even high ohulhug can’t resist that call if they get too close. I need to hold her. I need to. Please let me hold her!” The last bit came out as a plaintive cry, a desperate plea for help, but Grim wasn’t sure who it was meant for. The voice, though, sounded familiar, and with a shock, Grim realized it was Salin, the Kethem Naval Intelligence commander he had met on the Fith’s Hammer. Salin’s expression suddenly became craftier, more feral. “I’ll do what she wants, I’ll kill my children, my wife. I just want to touch her.” Grim looked away. Whatever was behind those mad eyes, it wasn’t human any more.
One of the honor guard had given up his sword for a crossbow. The other had a sword, but it was sheathed. The one with free hands locked the manacle of the empty chain onto Grim’s wrist. It was wide and thick enough that once it was on, it was going to stay that way until it was unlocked.
Dulaguk planted a hand in Grim’s back and pushed hard enough that Grim fell to his knees. “Move forward.”
Grim took a moment before he stood up, long enough to study the manacle. The lock was simple. He could pick it in seconds under ideal conditions. These were not ideal conditions. He had a torque wrench and a rake pick in a flap on his belt, easy to reach, but to use them effectively he would need both hands, and the one in the manacle wasn’t going to bend enough to help with that. In a pinch, he could apply pressure with the torque wrench by holding it in his mouth. He’d done it before. But it took a delicate touch, and he hadn’t practiced it much. Maybe a minute, maybe a bit less. It would take much less than a second to put a crossbow bolt through him.
He wasn’t sure why he was even looking, since the plan was to port out the minute he had his hand on Oracle. But the news that Dulaguk already had enough information to build his new ship had knocked Grim off balance. Grim could grab Oracle and let the elves destroy it. That would be a good thing. But it wouldn’t be enough at this point to stop Dulaguk.
He didn’t have a plan, just a desperate need to come up with one. But there didn’t seem to be any solution to the problem.
Grim stood and walked toward Oracle. He tried to move as if he was drawn to it like a moth to the flame, but resisting every step of the way. The amulet was getting hotter, hot enough that it was a little uncomfortable. “Can you do something about the heat?” he thought.
“No,” said the amulet in his head. “It is a byproduct of fighting off Oracle’s sway.”
“How hot will it be when I hold her?”
“Hot enough to burn if you hold Oracle for any length of time.”
“Fantastic,” thought Grim to the amulet. “You didn’t see the need to let me know about this so I could have put something between you and my skin?”
“I must have direct contact with you. I cannot protect you otherwise.”
Grim sighed. When he grabbed the sword and ported, he’d have a clear shot to the teleport at the Elvish nexus. That would take him to the Elvish World Gate where they were standing by to destroy it. Thirty seconds, and he could drop it in inside the black pillars and be done with it. He could take a red-hot amulet for that long, certainly.
As he grew close to the hilt, he studied the box the sword was locked into. There were two plates on hinges that locked around the guard, making it impossible to pull the sword free. Grim wondered for a second how Dulaguk had managed that, given anyone who touched Oracle would be under its control instantly, but locked the thought away. He had other things to focus on.
The box had another key lock, a little more complicated than the one on the manacle, but manageable. Under a minute, certainly. The crossbow trained on his back would punch a hole right through him around fifty-nine seconds short of that mark. He moved a little left as he approached to keep his body between the lock and Dulaguk’s line of vision.
And he was there. The amulet was hot now, not quite burning hot but painful. Grim pretended to grasp the hilt with one hand, his body hiding the fact he wasn’t touching it from the ohulhug behind him. Without quite meaning to, his other hand had slipped inside the slit in his belt, retrieved a rake pick, and was gently probing the lock o
n the cage. He could feel the key pins, four in all. A simple lock. Fifteen seconds was all he needed.
“Well?” called out Dulaguk, mirth in his voice. “Do you like her? She will give you power, but even more, she will make you desire not just her, but what she wants as well. She seeds chaos, death, destruction, wherever she can. She was a gift from another race, much like the detection-cloaking device the humans traded to us. A gift from someone that thinks like her. He wanted this, wanted her in my hands, and she likes this plan of mine, to destroy the humans, to destroy the elves. She’ll make you want it too. Tell me where the troops are, and I will let you hold her for as long as you live, ahead of all these others.”
Grim felt pretty confident that Dulaguk’s original plan had been to subjugate others, not destroy them. At one point, he’d heard a great troll talk about staying a safe distance from Morpangler, another of the other human soul swords. Beldaer, the elf, had said there was no safe distance, and Grim believed it. Clearly, Morpangler hadn’t been the only sword humans had rescued from the destruction of the Lanotalis Island. Why whoever managed to find Oracle would give it to the ohulhug was a mystery, but that would have to wait. For now, getting it out of Dulaguk’s hands was the priority. It was already a threat, and Dulaguk’s sanity was going to keep slipping away the longer he was near the sword. Grim wondered if Dulaguk knew how much Oracle had changed him. He wondered if at some point Dulaguk would not be able to prevent the pull, even from across the room, and would walk forward to Oracle’s sweet and deadly embrace.
