Reavers of the Blood Sea

by Richard Knaak

  Then Seph summoned him to his side, the younger warrior’s voice filled with excitement. “Come see this, Aryx! It might be what you’re looking for!”

  Aryx’s brother had worked his way to some of the larger rocks at the bottom of the ridge, climbing over one particularly large rock to reach his present location. Aryx saw nothing at first, but Seph pointed behind the rock. As slim as he was compared to many minotaurs, Aryx still had to struggle to see properly into the narrow area his smaller brother had uncovered.

  There, hidden from normal sight, lay what only Aryx truly recognized. His sudden intake of breath, though, immediately warned Seph that they had discovered a prize.

  “What are they, Aryx? They almost look like … like fingers of some sort.”

  They were. Two, to be exact. Thick and long, curved like claws, and covered in the same sort of skin as the appendages of a crab or lobster … possibly the one lucky strike the hapless knights had garnered against their monstrous foes.

  “This might do it,” Aryx muttered. He extended his arm, but the fingers remained out of reach. Cursing, he stretched down as best he could, straining the muscles in his arm and shoulder to the point where he nearly felt like screaming … and still they remained a few inches beyond his grasp.

  “Let me try,” Seph finally insisted.

  Aryx did not want to surrender his position, feeling somehow he could stretch still farther. Yet Seph, not completely grown, did have a slightly better chance of reaching them. Snorting in frustration, Aryx pulled back and let his brother try.

  Even for Seph, the distance proved almost insurmountable. On his second try, he nearly snagged the severed appendages with his fingers, but halfway up his tentative grip faltered. Aryx bit back a curse. He tried to guide his brother’s hands with his eyes, silently commanding Seph to shift position or turn his hand in a different direction. Still the horrific prizes escaped them, although with effort, Seph gradually pushed them to the side of a rock, where he then managed to prop them up.

  “I think … I can … get them now, Aryx.”

  “Be careful, Seph. Take one at a time if you have to.”

  The younger minotaur grunted. “Don’t … worry … I won’t fail you.…”

  Aryx nodded, then leaned forward to get a better look. He blinked, trying to clear his eyes. He had been staring so intently, his vision had begun to blur. Pulling away, Aryx straightened up and looked around, hoping that by doing so his eyes might refocus.

  Tendrils of fog drifted out over the shoreline.

  His eyes hadn’t been at fault. Aryx instinctively clutched his axe tightly as he scanned the region. Nothing had changed other than the encroaching mist. No massive forms rose from the sea. No overwhelming stench of wet musk assailed his nostrils.

  “I … I think I have one, Aryx!”

  “Seph—”

  “I do! If I bring it up slowly, I should keep a hold on it!”

  Despite the lack of any sign of danger, Aryx felt an overwhelming urge to leave … now. “Seph, forget it. Let’s go.”

  “Just a few seconds more.…”

  Aryx blinked. He could swear that the sand beyond them had stirred in one spot. Taking a step toward the questionable region, he studied it. The sand did not shift again, but Aryx felt certain that it had the first time. Perhaps some small crustacean had been disturbed by the incoming waves.…

  Seph straightened. “Look! I’ve got one!”

  As if reacting to his brother’s loud call, the sand everywhere began to swirl.

  “Seph! Onto the rocks! Climb up!”

  He had no time to heed his own warning, for suddenly the ground beneath him grew soft. Aryx’s feet sank in up to the ankles, and it was all he could do to pull one free.

  “Aryx! Give me your hand!” His brother perched atop the massive rock, trying to reach him.

  Aryx tried to seize the proffered hand, but the sandy ground shifted again, dragging him away and causing him to sink to his knees. Behind him, he heard the horses struggling. Aryx glanced over his shoulder and saw one animal pull itself up to safety, but his own mount, a brown male, fell back onto the sand.

  A miniature maelstrom formed beneath the helpless animal, pulling it down. The horse managed to right itself, but all four limbs sank up to its torso. At the same time, a powerful, musky stench permeated the air, nearly causing the trapped minotaur to choke.

  The frantic horse continued to struggle, but rapidly the sand swallowed it. Aryx could do nothing, his own life in question. He saw the body of the beast sink below the sand, the head still trying to keep above it … but all for naught: With one last gasp, Aryx’s mount disappeared into the horrific maelstrom. The sand shifted wildly for a few moments more, then slowed again.

  Desperate to avoid a similar fate, he hefted his axe and began pounding at the area surrounding him, seeking some target below. Wherever he spotted movement, Aryx struck. Unfortunately, the ground itself dulled his blows. Already the sand reached to his thighs. If he didn’t do something quickly, the trapped minotaur would join his horse.

  “Aryx!” a voice not Seph’s called. “Aryx! Take the rope!”

  He looked around and saw that the end of a thick rope, lying but a yard from him. The rope continued upward, rising over the edge of the ridge and disappearing beyond.

  Still perched on the rock, Seph picked up the call. “Take it, Aryx, hurry!”

  He clutched for the rope’s end, barely missing. However, to his horror, the churning sand suddenly dragged him farther away, putting the rope yet another foot distant. Aryx cursed, kicking as best he could with his legs, trying to drive himself forward again.

  Something snagged his ankle.

  “Aryx!” Seph had the rope in his hands. He had seen that his brother could no longer reach the end and planned to toss it nearer.

  Aryx wondered if he could. Whatever clutched his ankle tried to pull him deeper into the swirling sand. How much rope did Seph have to throw?

  The younger minotaur tossed as hard as he could. For a moment, Aryx feared that the rope would land too far from him, but then it arced to the side, coming nearer. Kicking hard at whatever held him, Aryx managed to free his leg up to his ankle and, in doing so, pushed himself ahead a few inches. Those inches proved to be vital, and he barely managed to seize the frayed tip.

  Holding on as tight as he could with one hand, Aryx shouted, “Pull me! Quick!”

  “Pull! Now!” Seph called to the unseen rescuer.

  The rope jerked, so much so that Aryx nearly lost his grip on it. Something grazed his leg, but before it could seize him, the minotaur felt himself tugged toward the rocky ridge. Aryx held tight with one hand, keeping the other gripped on the handle of his axe, fearing that any second something might reach out of the sand to pull him back.

  Nothing did, and a few seconds later, he collided with the rock ledge. Aryx used the rope to pull him up above the treacherous sand, then began to scramble up the slope as best he could. Beside him, Seph also began to climb. The stench of musk continued to invade Aryx’s senses, nearly sending him toppling at one point, but the image of what had befallen his mount kept the sand-encrusted warrior climbing.

  At last he reached the top. Aryx sprawled on the edge of the ridge, gasping. After some seconds, he searched for Seph, only to discover his brother sitting beside him, his eyes filled with concern.

  “By the Horned One!” a familiar feminine voice cried. “Aryx! Are you all right?”

  He looked up, for the first time seeing his true rescuer. Delara, every muscle taut, knelt before him. Beyond her waited her mount, the other end of the rope tied to the saddle.

  “Maybe …” he coughed up sand. “Maybe the gods do … do watch out for us now and then … or else … or else how would you be here now?”

  She looked slightly flushed. “No god. Just luck. I was coming to see you when I noticed you and your brother riding off. I followed, but I lost you just outside of Nethosak. It took me several minutes to pick up your
trail … partly due to my stupidity. I finally realized where you were going and—”

  “And got here just in time to save my fool life.” He smiled, finally reaching out a hand. “Thank you.”

  “Aryx! Come look at this!” Seph leaned over the edge, gazing down at the treacherous shoreline.

  The pair followed his gaze. Aryx frowned at the site below him. All trace of what had happened had vanished. The sand now lay still and pristine. Had he not nearly been sucked under, Aryx might have thought that no one had walked the area for days. He couldn’t even see a trace of where his mount had disappeared.

  He noticed also that the fog had begun to drift back, almost as if by conscious choice. The musky odor, too, had faded, or perhaps Aryx could not smell it quite as well from the top of the ridge.

  “Nothing,” he murmured. “No evidence at all.”

  “But I still have the claw!” Seph responded. He looked around expectantly, then his expression darkened. “At least I did … I dropped it right here.…”

  They searched the area but found nothing. “It must have fallen over the edge when we weren’t paying attention.” Aryx grunted. “That tears it, then! The Abyss take those creatures! I know this has to do with what Sargonnas said in the circus or what happened to the Kraken’s Eye, but without even the claw, I’ve no proof!”

  “But we saw everything that happened,” Delara pointed out. However, her brow furrowed. “Although what we saw …”

  “Exactly.” Exasperated, Aryx kicked a large rock off the edge of the ridge. It landed with a thud in the middle of the beach. He almost expected it to sink beneath the sand, but it remained where it had fallen, further mocking his efforts. Aryx suspected that if someone walked along the shore now, he would face no risk. What lurked below attacked with cautious efficiency. Even if he brought Broedius, the emperor, and every officer of both races, Aryx doubted that anything would happen.

  “We should still ride back and tell someone,” his brother suggested. “They at least deserve to know.”

  Aryx snorted in disgust. “If Lord Broedius won’t believe me after all he’s already heard, then he won’t believe this.”

  “What about Sargonnas?” Delara asked.

  “What about him?”

  His tone made her drop the question. Aryx felt some guilt, knowing that she still looked at the God of Vengeance with the eyes of one of the faithful. Yet Aryx himself saw no use in reporting this to the dark deity. Surely Sargonnas knew what stalked the shores. If he had done nothing so far, then why would he bother to act now?

  The overcast sky rumbled and the wind picked up, swirling dust and leaves about. “There is someone who might listen, though,” Aryx realized, Rand’s face suddenly coming to mind. “And through him, I might just be able to convince one close to Lord Broedius himself.”

  Carnelia might listen to the cleric. Her affection for him was clear to the minotaur. If she listened, then at least Aryx could hope that perhaps the female knight could convince her uncle. A desperate plan, but the only one he had for now.

  “We need to ride to the knighthood’s headquarters immediately,” he told the others. Rand tended to be there often, even when Carnelia had orders elsewhere. Aryx did not understand the blond human’s position in the expedition yet, but perhaps Kiri-Jolith had somehow placed him with the Knights of Takhisis to balance the situation, or else why would both Sargonnas and Broedius accept him? “Seph, do you think your horse can carry both of us?”

  “Mine will,” Delara offered. Her animal stood a good two hands taller than his brother’s, much of the additional weight pure muscle. The horse might not be as swift as the smaller one, but it should better carry two riders.

  The rumbling grew stronger, closer, as they mounted. A storm brewed, one that Aryx found foreboding. Already a few large drops of rain fell, precursor, perhaps, to one of the violent storms the Blood Sea islands suffered now and then. He hoped the trio would at least reach Broedius’s headquarters before the rain came down in earnest, but doubted it.

  Lightning played in the sky as they hurried away from the site. Delara urged her massive steed on, the powerful beast swifter than Aryx could have hoped. As they raced toward Nethosak, though, his thoughts turned away from the dire threats he foresaw, instead focusing on the female he found his arms wrapped around. Despite her devotion to Sargonnas, Aryx found Delara’s nearness enticing. Both a capable warrior and an attractive female, she somehow pulled him toward her as few in his past had done. He had known her only a short time, but he suspected that, as time passed, his infatuation might grow to something stronger.

  That, of course, assumed that they all had a future.…

  “Look there!” Seph shouted over the wind and thunder. “Do you see that?”

  Aryx stirred, trying to look past Delara. The clouds had gathered particularly thick over the imperial capital, especially toward its center. That alone might have attracted no interest, but lightning flashed over and over again, seeming to concentrate above one area.

  “A violent storm coming,” Delara called.

  “Violent, yes …” Aryx could not put his finger on it, but something about the concentration of elements over that part of the city disturbed him.

  A massive bolt darted earthward, striking the heart of Nethosak.

  “Did you see how that struck?” Seph shook his head. “I’ve never seen lightning hit like that! Do you think it did any damage?”

  Before Aryx could answer, a second bolt shot down, a near perfect repetition of the first. He squinted, trying to estimate where they landed.

  Delara leaned back slightly. “They must be hitting the very heart of the city! Do you think that the palace has been struck?”

  As she asked that, Aryx felt the same sense of foreboding … and knew there and then that the palace of the emperor likely stood untouched. A third lightning strike hit the city, virtually a copy of the previous pair. Young he might be, but Aryx had sailed the world enough to understand that no storm could attack with such precision unless some power willed it to do so.

  “Faster!” he shouted. “We need to ride faster!”

  “Why?” Delara glanced back. “What is it?”

  “They aren’t striking the palace,” Aryx roared back, “nor even the citadel of the Supreme Circle! If they’re striking anywhere, then it’s the temple that’s their target … and I don’t think the bolts will stop flying until it lies in ruins, Sargonnas himself with it!”

  * * * * *

  And so at last it begins, Sargonnas thought, feeling the primal forces unleashed with each lightning bolt. That which had been hidden from him, that which served Father Chaos, now struck, knowing how weak the other battles the god continued to fight had made him. It knew also that he had expended much energy protecting the islands as well, keeping the insidious fog at bay.

  No more. He could protect them no more. The only hope lay in what he and his ally had planned … and the luck that mortals sometimes benefited from.

  The temple shook again. From without came the confused shouts of clerics. Sargonnas ignored the insignificant calls, all thought concentrated on the matter at hand. Grimacing with effort, he rose from his throne, drawing his jeweled sword. The enchanted blade gleamed, the great green stone seeming to eye him. The God of Vengeance felt the power coursing through the sword, power which he himself had granted it when he had forged it so long ago during the Age of Dreams.

  “Are you ready?” he asked of the blade.

  I have always been ready … Master.

  “No tricks, now, for Father Chaos will have as much use for you as he does me.”

  The gem, which had flared brightly, now grew more subdued. No tricks … Master.

  Again the temple shook. Sargonnas paled, turning momentarily transparent as he struggled on several planes of existence. The servant of Father Chaos had chosen well the time of attack.

  “Wait for him,” he told the demon sword. “Guide him … but do not devour him.”
/>   As you command … Master.

  Turning the blade point down, Sargonnas thrust the sword into the marble floor. It sank half its length before stopping, the stone flaring brightly once more.

  Releasing his grip, the dark god looked to the ceiling, raising his hands high over his head. He smiled for his unseen foe.

  “Very well, then,” Sargonnas called. “Let us play in earnest now.”

  Storm Over Nethosak

  Chapter Eight

  They gathered beneath the sea, gathered in numbers so great they remained packed together for leagues on end. Although no light touched this deep world, they all looked up, awaiting the sign, awaiting the word of the most faithful servant. They would not move until that one spoke, until that one gave them permission. It had ever been the role of the Magori to obey, to perform as they were commanded, for that had been how they were created. They knew no other way.

  In the darkness, they waited … but knew that soon their wait would be over.

  * * * * *

  The bolts continued to strike even as the trio entered the capital. With each passing breath, the intensity of the assault grew stronger, now some three or four bolts at a time falling upon the center of the city. The very earth below them shook, the horses often having to steady themselves.

  In Nethosak, the journey slowed as they fought past startled minotaurs, knights on horseback, and even a wagon whose animals had escaped their driver. Everyone seemed too stunned to do anything … and what could they do? Crowds gathered in the streets, some clearly believing that another quake had begun. Others looked up, wondering if the heavens would erupt over the rest of the capital.

  “Clear the way!” Aryx roared. “Clear the way!”

  Delara and Seph maneuvered the horses along, gradually making progress. Another bolt arced down, shaking the entire area.