Scimitar Sun

by Chris A. Jackson

  Too late to fret about it now, she thought as she rounded the southern point of the reef and struck out toward Carbuncle Shoal.

  A mile into the open sea, she paused and sent out the pulse of sound that announced her arrival to the mer sentries. She glanced down through the blue water, her gaze following the shafts of light that shot into the depths beyond her sight. The water was deep here — a thousand feet or more — and even though she could feel every living thing nearby, she never liked waiting in this position; she felt too vulnerable in the open. She sometimes thought that the mer felt her tremors of unease, and that sometimes they kept her waiting just a little longer than necessary.

  Cynthia smiled in relief as the distant clicks of approaching dolphins reached her ears. She reached out her senses and sent out another, softer pulse of welcome as the two shot past her at full speed, banking around hard to circle her, their clicks and pops rattling her ears. They circled closer, more slowly, until their pectoral fins were close enough for her to reach out and grasp. She obliged, gripping one with each outstretched hand. They picked up their pace again, whirling her around in a pirouette. She recognized them as Chaser’s favored charges, and laughed a cloud of bubbles at their antics, releasing her grip when she became dizzy. They spun away in spirals of bubbles, clicking dolphin laughter at her.

  She felt Chaser long before he loomed out of the crystal-blue haze, and signed a greeting as he approached.

  *Welcome, Seamage Flaxal’s Heir,* he signed back, but his posture was one of bridled discomfort, not his usual enthusiasm. *Quickfin said you would come with the light. I am glad you are back in the waters of my birthing.* He gestured impatiently toward the mer city and began swimming in that direction.

  *Thank you, Chaser. I am glad to be back, too.* Cynthia moved abreast of him to sign, hoping to glean some information from him before they arrived. *I hope the mer are not too upset with the warship that visited my home while I was absent. I did not know of their arrival until my return.*

  *So we suspected,* he signed, which was tricky while swimming. One of the disadvantages of sign language was that one usually had to be relatively still to be understood. Chaser kept his replies brief to keep from throwing himself off course. *Broadtail will converse with you. He has questions.*

  *I will answer his questions if I can,* she signed back, her own signing eased by the fact that she wasn’t really swimming, but travelling on the crest of a pressure wave. *Was there much anger?*

  *There was.*

  He was uncomfortable, that much was clear, so she decided to save her questions for the Trident Holder. She knew he would have plenty of questions for her.

  Fortunately, she did not have to wait long; they were ushered through the grotto into the mer city with a haste and efficiency that she found discomforting. The mer were sticklers for protocol, and greetings were a part of that protocol. The sentries greeted her with exactly two words each.

  *Seamage!* one said, snapping his lance to a salute. *Welcome!*

  *Please follow!* the other added, with the same gesture and a whip crack of his tail that spoke volumes. Chaser was not the only one who was uncomfortable.

  *Greetings to you, sentry,* she signed, not intentionally slowly, but with care. *I hope you are escorting me where I wish to go, not taking me to the holding pens.* That stopped them all short; the holding pens were for prisoners, and food.

  *Seamage Flaxal’s Heir! Please do not — *

  The senior sentry interrupted Chaser with a tap on his shoulder and signed, *We are escorting you, honored Seamage, to the grotto where Trident Holder Broadtail greets guests.*

  *I have never needed an escort of sentries before. If I am not a prisoner, please do not treat me like one.* Cynthia realized that her words seemed harsh, but she could not resist the opportunity to throw a little of their sacrosanct protocol back in their faces. They were being rude to her, and they knew it.

  *We beg your pardon, honored Seamage Flaxal’s Heir,* the senior of the two signed, his color shifting dark in embarrassment. *We only wish to — *

  *Chaser can show me the way.* She ran a hand down Chaser’s back in camaraderie, noting his grin of challenge. *Thank you, Shellbreaker.*

  Fleeting surprise that she knew him by name crossed the sentry’s features, but then he hid his reaction, bowing fluidly. *You are welcome, Seamage Flaxal’s Heir.*

  Cynthia and Chaser left the duly abashed sentries and entered the city, and she was quickly lost among the twists and turns of the maze. It was still early in the day, so there were not a great many mer out and about, but Cynthia noted the stares of those who were. Some greeted her casually, their moods calm, but there were a lot of flicked tails as well. She hadn’t seen this level of distress since she was first introduced into the mer world, and wondered what rumors had been spread in her absence.

  Cynthia was rather disturbed to be meeting in the large grotto rather than in Trident Holder’s private quarters. The grotto was used for public forums, usually with ambassadors from other mer cities or the other sentient denizens of the depths. Cynthia had met few of these, but only in passing. One race — the undine, even less-humanoid than the mer — dwelt in the deeper reaches of Odea’s domain and often sent emissaries to meet with the trident holder. Cynthia didn’t care for the undine; with their huge bulging eyes, frilly faces and fins, and broad toothy mouths, they looked like toadfish. Their splayed, eight-fingered hands made their signing hard to follow, and she always felt like they were sizing her up for dinner. Others were even less friendly, their animosity toward air breathers clear, and there were some that even the mer did not associate with.

  This morning, fortunately, there were only mer in the cavernous grotto, though the large number of them surprised her. Trident Holder Broadtail hovered in the center of the room, above the ornately decorated dais of coral that denoted his station. Around him swam perhaps a hundred mer, only a few of whom she recognized.

  Tailwalker and Quickfin swam over to greet her, trailed by the mer priestess Kelpie, whom Cynthia knew well, a large mer warrior she knew as Spineback — easily recognized by his namesake, an unusually long, spiny dorsal fin — and another female she did not know. Near Broadtail swam mer she recognized from the recent confrontation in Tailwalker’s grotto; Eelback, Redtail and the female, Slickfin, swam in close formation, flanked by the large male Sharkbite, who eyed her with open contempt.

  *Greetings, Betrothed!* Tailwalker signed as the foursome approached, clasping Cynthia’s hands formally. *You know Spineback, of course. This is his mate, Sunglimmer; they are newly wed, and are already planning their first brood!*

  She returned his greeting and congratulated Sunglimmer and Spineback, unconsciously patting her own stomach. She envied the mer in that regard: their pregnancies were short and not incapacitating in the slightest. They gave birth to broods of ten to twenty small finlings, which were reared to weanling age — about three weeks — in the mouths of the mother and father. Once weaned, the finlings stayed in the home grotto for another few months, until large enough to venture out under the careful watch of their parents. If she had been on that same schedule, she would have been free of this burdensome bulge months ago.

  *We knew you would come early, and we sought to show you our support. Unfortunately,* Tailwalker cast a glance at Eelback’s group, *others have guessed of your arrival, and have come also.*

  *I do not think Eelback being here will be a bad thing,* Kelpie put in, signing in broad strokes that were easy to read from across the room. Eavesdropping was a simple matter with sign language; Kelpie was trying to diffuse the tension, both with her words and her manner.

  *I agree, Kelpie,* Cynthia signed, nodding toward the group. *Let us go and I will converse with the Trident Holder, and anyone else who cares to join the discussion.*

  They swam toward Broadtail, and Cynthia greeted him formally, showing all the deference she knew was expected. He greeted her with a genuine smile
. She liked Broadtail very much; the two of them saw things similarly. Both knew that the mer and the landwalkers had much to lose if their relationship devolved to open warfare. She felt that they were both in similar positions, precariously situated between power and responsibility.

  *Much has happened in your absence, Seamage Flaxal’s Heir,* he signed, nodding to the amassed mer. *The arrival of a warship on the very tide of your departure did not float well among our people.*

  *It did not float well with me, either, Trident Holder Broadtail. Fortunately, it was simply an emissary from the emperor of the landwalkers.* The mer knew nothing of the various empires of men, dwarves or elves, so Cynthia was forced to generalize. *Upon my return, I learned that the emissary was interested in me, not the mer.*

  *That is a relief,* Broadtail signed, but before he could continue his response, Eelback cut in.

  *Why would an emissary come in a warship to visit you, Seamage? Does the emperor of the landwalkers fear you so much?*

  *Keep your manners civil, Eelback,* Broadtail warned. *You will show Seamage Flaxal’s Heir proper respect in this grotto, or you will not be welcome.*

  *My pardon, Trident Holder. I am simply curious why one landwalker needs a warship to visit another landwalker. Is this common practice, Seamage Flaxal’s Heir?*

  *It is, sometimes, Eelback,* she retorted, reining in her temper. This was not the time or place for a confrontation. *I have drawn the notice of the emperor of the landwalkers by making ships that sail faster than even his own warships. This has made him wary of me, but his concern is unfounded. My friend told the emissary this.*

  *And they are not concerned with the mer at all?* Redtail asked, his motions showing irritation. *This shows a lack of respect, Trident Holder. The landwalker emperor should treat with us, not just his seamage.*

  That was too much.

  *I am not anyone’s seamage, Redtail. I am my own person, and though I may call the emperor of the landwalkers friend, as I do the mer, I will not do his bidding if it does not suit my purpose.* That might not be entirely true; as the emperor’s subject, she was compelled by his commands, but she didn’t think that fact would comfort the mer at this point.

  *Which implies that you will not do our bidding either,* he shot back, grinning a challenge.

  *Not if it does not suit my purpose,* Cynthia retorted, *but I certainly will cooperate when it is in both our best interests.* She turned to Broadtail. *I was bid to produce an heir of my body, one that might become a seamage one day, and this I am doing. Birthing a landwalker child is much more difficult than birthing mer finlings, Broadtail. As you know, I must carry my child for more than five hundred tides, and, as you can see, it has misshaped my body and leaves me tired with the simplest of tasks. This birth will risk my life, Trident Holder.* She turned to glare at Redtail and Eelback. *I will not be told by anyone, mer or landwalker, that I have not complied with the wishes of the mer.*

  *Such anger in one so powerful yet inexperienced, is dangerous, Trident Holder,* Eelback signed, ignoring her wrath. *Are you sure you want this seamage to wed your son?*

  Cynthia started to sign a reply, but was held back by a strong hand on her arm. She turned to Quickfin and caught his hidden hand signal signifying danger, and realized that she was being baited. They hoped to prove her unworthy of a union with the mer. She silently cursed for letting her emotions rule her head, thankful for Quickfin’s intervention.

  *If I had done what Seamage Flaxal’s Heir has done for the mer — risked my life, rejected my mate’s wish to wed, devoted my time and energy to ensure the security of our home — and was treated with such contempt, I, too, would be angry, Eelback.* Quickfin released her arm and shot her a grin.

  *As would I,* Broadtail agreed, sweeping his hand in an arc that meant the argument was moot. *This warship, Seamage Flaxal’s Heir. What reason did the emissary give for bringing it into our home?*

  *As a precaution against the inherent dangers of the Shattered Isles.* She made a motion of dismissal, and added, *Many landwalkers do not understand the sea, and therefore they fear it. I believe it was also intended to show me the emperor’s power. Not a threat, but a demonstration of strength.*

  *Why would the emperor wish to demonstrate his power to you, Seamage Flaxal’s Heir?* This was the same question that Eelback had asked, though more eloquently worded. *You are an ally of the emperor, is this not true?*

  *It is, Trident Holder.* Redtail started to sign, but she cut him off. *As I am an ally of the mer. The emperor is simply being cautious. He does not know me well enough to understand that I am no threat to his security, so he sent a warship with his emissary to determine my intentions. Unfortunately, I was not there to speak with him.*

  *Why is this unfortunate?* Broadtail asked, his signing jerky.

  *Because to see me directly may have better quelled their fears.* She splayed her limbs and poked out her belly, deliberately exaggerating its comic proportions. *Do I look fierce?* she asked, relieved when several mer, including Broadtail, fluttered their gills in laughter. *You saw that they went away peacefully. But some,* she looked pointedly at Eelback, *see only what they want to see.*

  *What I see, Seamage Flaxal’s Heir,* Eelback signed smoothly, *is a landwalker who comes with warnings of war. What do you see?*

  *I see posturing, Eelback,* she said, looking him straight in the eyes, then turning to Broadtail. *Do not concern yourself overmuch about this, Trident Holder. The landwalkers are well known for their meaningless gestures to get attention. This is simply that, a gesture to get attention…my attention.*

  *And what will you do, now that the emperor of the landwalkers has your attention, Seamage Flaxal’s Heir?* Broadtail asked, ignoring the flicking tails of Eelback and Redtail.

  *I will send him a message, telling him I regret that I was not here to greet his emissary, and I will invite him to send another to meet with me in person.*

  *And you will tell him that warships are not welcome in the territory of the mer?*

  *I will suggest that the presence of a warship makes your people uncomfortable, but I cannot tell him what to do, any more than I can tell the mer what to do, Trident Holder Broadtail. For as the mer claim all that lies beneath the surface of the sea, the landwalker emperor claims all that is above.* She made a gesture of calm, and continued. *The two claims will not clash if the mer and the landwalkers treat each other with respect.*

  This caused more tail swishing from Eelback and his friends, but Broadtail motioned for calm.

  *Agreed, Seamage Flaxal’s Heir,* he signed, *but as Redtail noted, the emissary’s lack of concern with the mer suggests a lack of respect, which is dangerous. You must include in your message to the emperor that his borders overlay our own here, and that we will not tolerate the contemptuous behavior that landwalkers have exhibited in the past.*

  *I will relay your message to the emperor, Broadtail, and I agree. Perhaps the next emissary will come to speak with you, not me.*

  *I would welcome such an emissary, Seamage Flaxal’s Heir,” he said, nodding his approval of her notion. *Just as I will welcome you as a member of my family, as my son’s mate.* With these last words, he cast a meaningful glare at Eelback.

  *If there are no other questions, I think we can adjourn to more pleasant surroundings.*

  *With respect, I do have more questions, Trident Holder,* Eelback signed. *I will try to keep them brief, with your permission.*

  *Ask, Eelback, but remember,* the Trident Holder’s grip shifted easily on his badge of office, “I will tolerate no impudence.*

  *I will address Seamage Flaxal’s Heir with all the respect she is due, Trident Holder,* Eelback signed, and Cynthia wondered if he was being sarcastic. No one else seemed to respond to the jibe, so she ignored it. *My first question is about the Seamage’s recent trip. She returned sooner than expected. I trust it went well.*

  *Yes, it went well, Eelback,* she answered, declining to elaborate.

  *And y
our friend, the mage of fire — you met him?*

  *Yes,* she signed, knowing where this was going, and reluctant to give any information that wasn’t specifically requested.

  *And what was his reason for summoning you?* Eelback asked, his eyes narrowing, the facial expression remarkably similar to a human mien of suspicion.

  *He asked me to aid his apprentice in his endeavor to become a firemage, and I agreed.*

  *You agreed?* Eelback thrashed his tail in agitation. *Why would you do such a thing?*

  *Because he is powerful, and he is my friend, Eelback. It is better to keep him as a friend. Besides, as I said, if it is in my power to help a friend, and it does not go against my own purposes, I will help that friend.*

  *And you will help create another mage who wields fire, one who could destroy us!*

  Cynthia looked around the grotto casually, as if looking for something she’d misplaced, then signed, *Excuse me, Eelback, but I do not see many things among the home of the mer that would burn. A firemage is, quite literally, out of his element here, and his worst efforts against the mer would be useless.*

  *I agree,* Broadtail signed, gesturing a general dismissal, *if there are no more — *

  *I have but one more question for our friend, Trident Holder,* Eelback interrupted, his agitation still plain. Broadtail nodded, and he continued. *I would ask Seamage Flaxal’s Heir, if the emperor of the landwalkers were to wage war on the mer, which side would she support?*