Reavers of the Blood Sea

by Richard Knaak

  They had all looked his way as the door had opened, no doubt expecting one of their own. Aryx’s gaze darted from one officer to the next, quickly reading their reactions. In most, he read surprise, then further shock as they focused on the dragon eye. Hojak snorted, glaring at Aryx as if he saw one of the shelled reavers. Only Geryl reacted with a modicum of respect, but even he could not help gaping briefly at the figure before him.

  “Some of you know me,” Aryx began, attempting to pretend he had not changed in any way. “To you others, I’m Aryximaraki de-Orilg, warrior of the empire, crew member and survivor of the Kraken’s Eye and—”

  “We all know who you are, Aryx,” Geryl quietly interjected, his eyes never leaving the dusky gray minotaur’s own. “I think we do, at least.”

  “By the whims of Zeboim …” Hojak muttered. “Look at his eye!” The general next to him nodded wordlessly.

  Geryl took a step forward. “Aryx … Aryximaraki … your part in the battle has been told and retold already in the few short hours since then.” He took hold of his axe just below the head, then, with the weapon perpendicular to the floor, thrust it toward the younger warrior in a salute. “I honor you and honor your blade.”

  The act served to break much of the tension. The other generals, even Hojak, repeated the salute with their own weapons. Aryx acknowledged each, then stepped to the center of the room. “I merely fought for the empire, as any warrior would.”

  “But despite these foolish humans, you managed to bring order to the ranks,” insisted the short elder. “We should have slaughtered the bunch the moment they docked! This battle would have gone differently if they’d not been there to interfere!”

  Hojak snorted. “You weren’t at the docks when Sargonnas made his appearance, Selkin! I dared do nothing!”

  “I never intimated—”

  “Generals!” To his horror, Aryx’s voice boomed through the chamber. “Generals … it’s the Knights of Takhisis I would talk to you about.”

  The doors opened behind him, and two more senior officers entered, officers who paused to stare the moment they noticed Aryx’s eye. He swore under his breath. If the orb proved so distracting, Aryx might never gain their complete attention, and if that happened, how could he convince them of the need to cooperate with the humans?

  You got me into this, Kiri-Jolith. At least make them listen, Aryx thought. Yet, deep down, Aryx knew that the task would be up to him. The gods had too great a battle of their own to wage.

  More generals arrived. How many yet might still come, he could not say, but Aryx couldn’t hesitate any longer. Broedius would enter precisely at the fifth hour, of that the uneasy warrior had no doubt.

  Perhaps seeing the daunting test awaiting Aryx, Geryl spoke up. “You say you came to speak to us about the humans, Aryx. What do you have to say?”

  He surveyed the assembled officers, this time purposely displaying the draconian orb. Perhaps instead of distracting them, it might instead draw the generals to his words. “Lord Broedius has released all of you.”

  “That seems pretty obvious,” Hojak grumbled. “But for what new dishonor?”

  “Not for dishonor, but for alliance.”

  They grumbled, all of them. Even Geryl found Aryx’s words suspicious. Only when the young warrior stared at each did they falter. The dragon eye cowed the generals, at least enough to make them listen. Perhaps Kiri-Jolith had known that, perhaps not, but Aryx now took full advantage of the effect. With the minotaur command still silent, he began to tell them what Lord Broedius had offered.

  Most remained neutral in their expressions as Aryx outlined his discussions with the knight commander. Admittedly he embellished on some points, but Aryx hoped that if he could make the generals agree to the offer, Broedius would acquiesce on the lesser aspects. He tried to make them see that this stood as the best hope for the survival of the empire and their very race. In his heart, he believed this, and that firm belief aided him now.

  While Aryx talked, he kept the emerald eye on each. Perhaps because of that, no one interrupted, no one stalked out of the chamber. As he concluded, Aryx felt that at least some of them saw his reasoning.

  One who did not was Hojak. The gruff officer, a member of the Supreme Circle, snorted when Aryx reached the end of his argument. “So we’re supposedly granted command of our forces, but still we bow to the one with the eyes like the Abyss! What difference, then, does it make? We will still be treated as fodder rather than allies! We’re no better off!”

  “I disagree,” interrupted Geryl. “There must be an overall commander and while a human might not be to my liking, either, Hojak, Broedius is an experienced commander. Moreover, he knows the situation in Ansalon, which surely affects us, too.”

  “The knights don’t understand about defending an island,” argued another general.

  “Against the underdwellers, we know as little as they.”

  Aryx surveyed the room, trying to judge the mood of the generals. He counted at least three against any such alliance and four in favor. Of the remaining generals, he could tell nothing.

  Hojak remained adamant. “We’re free enough now! We shouldn’t have come here at all! If we rallied our forces, we could be rid of the humans and their problems in a matter of hours!”

  Geryl laughed harshly. “And while we cleansed our realm of the humans, the reavers would be upon us, slaughtering our people in turn! Excellent strategy, Hojak!”

  The other general grasped his weapon. “Do you mock me?”

  “Of course not, but even you should see how dangerous your notion is!”

  Hojak snorted, eyes turning red with anger. In another moment, he would reach a berserker fury from which only his death or that of his rival would free him. Aryx seized the enraged officer’s weapon arm. Hojak turned on him, ready to do battle with the younger warrior instead.

  “No!” Aryx leaned forward, practically planting his snout against the elder minotaur’s own. He met the furious gaze, staring unblinking at General Hojak. In his present stage, Hojak might kill him, but Aryx refused to step back.

  “Release me!”

  “No!” Aryx’s eyes narrowed. “No. We can’t afford to fight one another, General! If we do, we dishonor those who depend on us! We dishonor all those who will die because we couldn’t overcome our own distrust!” He grew tired of the constant bickering and fighting among his own kind. No wonder they had been enslaved so often. “You’ll end this now.”

  General Hojak glared at him. Then something he saw drained him of his fury. An almost fearful look spread across his face. Aryx had never seen such an expression save on that of some of his shipmates as the Magori’s weapons had cut them down.

  “Let go of me,” whispered the older minotaur in an almost plaintive voice. “Let go …”

  “Hojak!” called one of the others. “Are you—”

  The outer doors burst open, and Lord Broedius himself charged into the room. He looked as if he hadn’t slept at all since Aryx had last spoken with him. The knight commander surveyed the room almost absently until his gaze drifted to Aryx. Broedius started to say something, then noticed the dragon eye. After some hesitation, the Knight of Takhisis finally uttered, “Well, it’s one surprise after another from you, Aryx!”

  “Lord Broedius, I’ve spoken with the generals, and—”

  “A moot point at the moment! It’s you I seek, but they can come as well!”

  Geryl stepped forward. “What is it, Knight Commander? Have the underdwellers returned?”

  “In a manner of speaking, perhaps.” The senior knight strode up to Aryx. “An offer’s been made … an offer to parley.”

  Aryx could hardly believe that. “From the crustaceans?”

  “No, from a voice—or maybe voices; I can’t tell—from somewhere in the mist. Curiously, it’s asked for you, Aryx.”

  “Me?” He shook his head. “That can’t be, Lord Broedius! Why would any—”

  The knight cut him off with the w
ave of a hand. “I care not the reason ‘why’ at the moment, minotaur, only that you’re wanted. Will you come?”

  Part of his mind screamed for him to say no. The images of all those who had died aboard the Kraken’s Eye returned, reinforcing that desire. Yet Aryx could not, in his heart, answer so. Even if a thousand Magori armed with lances awaited him, honor demanded he face them. “I’ll go with you, human, if only in the hopes that it might mean something.”

  “Very good.” Broedius glanced back at the generals. “Come or stay, the choice is yours.”

  Geryl glanced at the others before speaking. “We’ve heard the offer through Aryx, Knight Commander, and if it still stands, we’ll take it … for now. If need be, we’ll fight alongside you and yours. This is not the time for differences.”

  The knight nodded slightly. “Agreed. Come!”

  Broedius led them out of the clan house to where a number of riders waited. Rand and Carnelia sat among them, but of Seph and Delara, he saw no sign. Realizing that they had not been told, Aryx sought to go back, but a look from the ebony-eyed commander changed his mind. He could not hesitate now. Perhaps by leaving them behind, Aryx might keep them safe.

  Reaction to the dragon eye proved predictable, with only the cleric of Kiri-Jolith holding his expression steady. Rand did not look at all pleased by Aryx’s newfound orb, but neither did he gape as Carnelia and several of the others did. Their reaction only hardened the uncertain minotaur, making him appear perhaps emotionless, even cold, to the others.

  A knight handed him the reins of a great brown charger who, upon sighting his new rider, nearly pulled the reins loose in sudden anxiety. Cursing, Aryx stared the animal down, which only brought new muttering from both minotaurs and humans.

  He mounted quickly and, frowning at their obvious attention, snarled, “Let’s get on with this.…”

  Without waiting for them, he turned the charger and headed toward the docks.

  * * * * *

  As they neared their destination, Aryx could not help thinking of the sight those with him must present to any who could see them in the thick fog. Humans and minotaurs side by side, clearly riding more as allies than masters and servants. He only hoped the fragile alliance would hold, for now they surely needed it most.

  The combined force rushed toward the shoreline, Aryx expecting each second to encounter the enemy by the swarms. However, as they arrived, Aryx could find no foe, even taking the thick fog into consideration. Talons of knights and legions of minotaurs stood waiting for commands, but of the foe, he could see no sign. So where had the source of this voice that had demanded his presence gone? Even with the dragon eye he could see nothing but the waves and, in the distance, derelict ships and boats. He saw that most of his companions shared his confusion. Broedius, however, seemed to take things in stride, reining his horse to a halt, then peering out at the seemingly empty seascape, as if seeing what even Aryx could not.

  “Well?” the knight called out to the empty harbor. “We’re here. All of us, including him!”

  The horses suddenly stirred, more than one trying to turn. A knight shouted something, pointing at the nearby shore.

  From beneath the sand, a single crustacean arose. In each hand, it held one of the horrible scythe swords, yet it did nothing.

  “Hold your positions!” Broedius called as some of the assembled defenders stirred. Behind him, General Geryl shouted a similar order, much to the sudden interest of the minotaur legions. Geryl looked at the knight commander as if daring him to reprimand the minotaur general, but Broedius only nodded.

  A second shelled terror rose from the sand some distance from the first, and moments later a third emerged, in perfect line with the first two. Beyond them, Aryx could see two or three others. He suddenly imagined the entire island being ringed by this strange line of monstrous invaders.

  They spoke then, in one disconcerting voice that rippled and echoed, setting the nerves on edge. As Broedius had said, though, the one voice also sounded like many, a puzzling contradiction.

  “You are offered peace …” the strange voice began.

  At first no one could believe his ears. The foe had come to offer terms of peace? The final battle had been won even before it had been fought? A murmur arose among the defenders.

  “Silence in the ranks!” Geryl immediately shouted. The murmuring died.

  “The peace of oblivion …” the voice finally added.

  A sensation of shock ripped across the defenders. After a moment, Broedius urged his unwilling steed forward several paces. “Who are you? Who commands?”

  Again silence. Then: “The Coil commands; the Magori obey …”

  It might have been Aryx’s imagination, or perhaps a trick of the growing mist, but he thought he saw the nearest of the creatures shiver. Obviously the Magori greatly feared this Coil.

  Lord Broedius did not seem at all impressed by the answer. “Hear this, Coil! We’ll not be conquered by you! So I swear by my Lady Takhisis, great Queen of the Heavens!”

  A ripple of laughter, so inhuman that the hair on Aryx’s neck actually stood on end. Several warriors took a step back. “Foolish little mortals … do you think gods may resist the father of gods?”

  Only Rand and Aryx showed any signs of understanding the enigmatic question, but before Aryx could ask the cleric what he might know, the Magori’s master spoke again … to him.

  “Warrior of Sargonnas, chosen of the betrayer, wielder of the demon sword, do you hear me?”

  Steeling himself, Aryx urged his mount a couple of steps toward the still Magori. “I hear you! What do you want of me?”

  “Where is the Horned One? Where is your Sargonnas?”

  So it wanted to know where the god had gone.… Aryx’s brow furrowed as he tried to think quickly. Surely this servant of Chaos must know what had befallen Sargonnas! If it controlled these aquatic abominations and the fog, then surely it had controlled the storm as well. It should certainly know that the temple had been ripped into the sky and with it had gone …

  Aryx sensed an abrupt chill near his leg where the sheath containing the Sword of Tears hung.

  A warning?

  He stared beyond the Magori, trying somehow to meet the gaze of the creatures’ invisible master. “He stands ready with his chosen!” the minotaur shouted. “He is everywhere!”

  His words encouraged the minotaurs but had little effect on the unseen Coil, for once again it laughed.

  “Then he will see his pets die. Father Chaos has decreed this little world not to be, and his most loyal servant, the Coil, will obey. You may still choose the peace of oblivion.” As an apparent example of what the Coil meant, the crustacean nearest Aryx and his band suddenly hissed in outright terror. Tendrils of the fog twisted around it, and as they did, the Magori shivered and grew transparent. It struggled madly, trying to free itself, but all to no avail. At last the crustacean emitted a final, high-pitched hiss … then faded away, weapons and all. Silence reigned for a time as the unseen Coil allowed the defenders to digest the creature’s fate before concluding. “A fate most fair and painless, would you not agree?”

  Someone did not. From the ranks, there flew an expertly aimed axe.

  It struck one of the Magori directly in the throat, spraying fluids everywhere as the monstrous crustacean collapsed, a shrill hiss its dying cry. The other Magori remained where they were, weapons poised but unmoving.

  A brief cheer rose up from both minotaurs and humans, one that swiftly died as a new monster rose from the earth to replace the first. Again the inhuman laughter wreaked havoc on Aryx’s nervous system. He felt no better that others reacted as he did, some even worse.

  The sea and sand suddenly boiled with Magori as far as the eye could see.

  “Sound the call!” Broedius shouted, turning his mount.

  More of the aquatic reavers burst forth, so many that the creatures packed against one another. They burrowed up from the sandy shoreline, bubbled up from the dimly seen h
arbor, and clambered over the farthest docks. Everywhere there were more than Aryx suspected anyone had seen during the first attack. The fog thickened noticeably, and the musky scent that still recalled for Aryx the nightmare aboard his ship grew so strong that he thought he might choke.

  “You have rejected the peace of oblivion”—the voice of the Coil seemed to come from all around—“and so it shall be the peace of the slaughter, then.…”

  The Magori advanced.

  Armageddon

  Chapter Twelve

  Rand forced his steed back as the Magori approached. He hated leaving the others, especially Carnelia, but it remained essential for him to keep out of harm’s reach. The reason for which he had joined Broedius’s expedition required that he not risk himself, not until contact with those he waited for had been made.

  The vision had come to him from Kiri-Jolith himself. Rand remained the link by which others of the faithful kept aware of what happened even while they made their own preparations. The blond cleric knew that by now the faithful must be drawing near, but until he actually sighted them, he dared not risk losing touch. That he did not know who they were did not matter, only that his god had sent them. Not even Broedius understood the extent of Rand’s mission, although the knight commander had been told just enough aboard the Kraken’s Eye by Sargonnas to keep Broedius from throwing the cleric overboard. Carnelia knew nothing, which had made Rand’s burden worse.

  He rode away from the impending battle wishing he could do something for the warriors about to give their lives. Every effort to push back the fog had failed. For a time, his hope that he could aid in clearing the air of the cursed mists had made him feel better, but as each attempt had failed, Rand had felt more and more useless. Sitting and waiting for others who might not come in time did not suit him, even if that task had been sanctioned by his patron.