Sea Devil's Eye

by Mel Odom

  No, my son. I would never bargain over a champion. You will serve me only if your heart wills it.

  “But you could save her.”

  Yes. And you would look to me as though you forever owed her life to me. I will not have that.

  “So I’m to watch her die?”

  My son, you have the power to save her. As you saved Khlinat, and as you have saved yourself upon occasion in the past. Trust in yourself, Jherek. Trust in the love you have for her, and in your own ability to do what must be done.

  Slowly, Jherek reached for Sabyna. He remembered how Glawinn came into her room and laid his hands upon the ship’s mage, but it didn’t seem right that he do so. “I don’t know how,” he said.

  Love her, my son. That is your greatest gift. But you must give and receive it. You cannot lock yourself away from it.

  Trembling, his face covered in tears, so afraid that he would be somehow found wanting, Jherek laid his hands on Sabyna’s face. He willed her to be well, pictured her in his mind hale and whole, saw her with the smile on her lips that he knew so well.

  Power coursed through his hands, filling them with heat. He knew it wasn’t enough. Tenderly, he leaned forward, pressed his lips to hers, and kissed her. He remembered how she’d been in the rigging the day she kissed him. The love and the hunger crashed down over him, threatening to sweep him away.

  Sabyna kissed back, her lips soft against his.

  Jherek opened his eyes to find her staring back at him. He tried to back away, knowing the question of his birth still lay between them, embarrassed by what she must think of him to find him there, obviously taking advantage of her weakness.

  “Lady,” he said breathlessly, “I know this must appear unseemly, but I swear I only had—”

  “Shut up,” she ordered. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tightly, then covered his mouth with hers and kissed him deeply. “Hold me, Jherek, and don’t let me go.”

  The young sailor wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him fiercely. Somewhere in there, the old bard had the decency to leave.

  “Are you sure you want to do that, young warrior?”

  Glawinn’s quiet words startled Jherek from his reverie. He stood on Azure Dagger’s stern castle, the wind blowing through his hair. Late morning tinged the eastern sky pink, but the rest of it was pure cerulean. Bright white doves winged overhead, and the young sailor chose to take that as an omen.

  “Aye,” Jherek replied. “I can see no other way of it.”

  “This thing you’re undertaking,” Glawinn said, “it’s no easy thing.”

  “Would you talk me out of it?” Jherek asked.

  Glawinn shook his head.

  “I would see it done, then, if you’re willing.”

  “Young warrior,” Glawinn said in a voice that was suddenly hoarse with emotion as tears glittered in his eyes, “if you only knew the honor you show me.”

  Jherek reached for him, his own eyes tearing even as he smiled fiercely. The young sailor pulled the man to him in a bear hug that was returned full measure.

  “I only show what you have shown me,” Jherek told him.

  Azure Dagger lay at anchor with only the small wind blowing over her, so the song from Pacys’s yarting was audible from one end of the ship to the other.

  Jherek gathered himself, standing on the stern castle in borrowed clothes, his sword thrust through the sash at his waist. He gazed at Sabyna, who stood with the small crowd around Pacys at the other end of the stern castle.

  During the last two days, the ship’s mage had made a complete recovery. No scars remained to mark the drowned ones’ bites. She wore a dress that Azla loaned her. Even the old-timers among the pirate crew were surprised to learn the half-elf captain owned a dress, though they all had a care not to say anything of the kind in her presence. Khlinat stood beside her, his chest puffed up proudly. Captain Tarnar of Steadfast was there as well, unable to cross the dangerous seas yet. He wore vestments that bore Mystra’s mark. The crews of both ships stood on their decks, Steadfast within easy hailing distance.

  Jherek hadn’t known so many would be interested, but Azla declared the proceeding as an official event and her pirates even cleaned up a bit for it. The young sailor glanced at the audience and felt self-conscious.

  “I didn’t know so many people would be here,” he said to Glawinn.

  “Young warrior, the word spread quickly last night when you asked for this. Those people out there, once they learned of it, they would have it no other way. This is not something that is often witnessed.”

  “It was only you and I,” Jherek pointed out. “And I told only Sabyna.”

  Glawinn shrugged, grinning. “And I told only the bard because he needed to know for the tale he weaves. So, we have two suspects. Choose one.”

  Jherek couldn’t keep the smile from his face. “No.”

  “Then, perhaps we should begin.”

  “Aye.”

  Excitement and anxiety hummed inside Jherek and he had second thoughts about his own worthiness. Quietly, he shoved those aside and gazed at Sabyna. He knew she was proof that Lathander had found him deserving, even if he couldn’t yet see it himself.

  “Kneel, Jherek of Velen,” Glawinn ordered.

  Quietly, Jherek knelt, placing his hands before him, palms pressed together. He bent his head forward in benediction.

  “You have been blessed by Lathander,” Glawinn said, “to be among those who would defend the Morninglord’s name and His wishes. How say you?”

  Jherek marshaled his courage, hoping to overcome his nervousness. Surprisingly, his voice sounded strong and clear over the gentle wind. “I, Jherek of Velen, do hereby pledge to honor the strictures of this sacred heritage and promise by my faith to be loyal to Lathander, maintaining my devotion against all persons without deception or forethought. Further, I vow to promote and uphold the principles of fealty, courtesy, honesty, valor, and honor, and to solemnly and faithfully follow the edicts of the Morninglord.”

  “May your heart be forever true to Lathander’s cause to hold compassion for those who will need your help and to hold righteous anger for those who have been trespassed against,” Glawinn said. “May your arm be forever strong in the Morninglord’s service.”

  Jherek listened to the silence around him and felt more complete than he ever had. By Lathander’s sacred covenant, this was where he should be. His heart swelled inside his chest as he awaited Glawinn’s next words.

  “For the Morninglord’s glory and in my true and unwavering service to him, I name you Sir Jherek, paladin in the service of Lathander.”

  Jherek felt Glawinn’s sword touch both his shoulders.

  “Arise, Sir Jherek, and be whole of heart and spirit to show Lathander’s great love for you.”

  The crowd aboard Azure Dagger clapped, and the pirates hooted and hollered their support. Rising on shaking legs, Jherek stood, looking up at the blue sky above.

  “Thank you,” he said to the sky,” for finding me and freeing me.”

  My son, the deep voice said, you were never lost, and you have freed yourself. Take your shirt off.

  Jherek hesitated for only a moment, then did as he was asked. As he stripped the shirt away, he noticed the clapping and hollering quieted, until the ship was silent once more. He was conscious of the tattoo—a flaming skull masked in chains—that showed so plainly on his arm.

  No one, the deep voice boomed, startling the people on the ship and letting Jherek know he wasn’t the only one who could hear the words now, may mark one of my own.

  A pink incandescence flared to life in the middle of the flaming skull, burning brightly. Jherek watched, surprised there was no pain, only a tingling feeling. When the incandescence passed, only unmarked flesh remained behind.

  Jherek held his arms out at his sides, staring at the clear skin through tear-blurred eyes that spilled over his cheeks.

  The stain of your father’s heritage is gone, my son. Live free of
it.

  XXVI

  30 Marpenoth, the Year of the Gauntlet

  “Why would Lathander be involved in any of this?” Qos asked.

  Pacys swam beside Qos as the storm giant looked over the preparations being made to the Great Gate beside the Dukars’ Academy.

  “For several reasons,” the bard answered.

  Mermen, shalarin, sea elves, locathah, tritons, and even some of the men from Azure Dagger and Steadfast—both ships now at anchor above—labored to clear the great plaza. They chopped down coral reefs and carried them away. The humans used all manner of potions and magical devices to reach Myth Nantar, but once there, the mythal surrounding the City of Destinies allowed them to stay, breathing the water as if it were air.

  “What reasons?” the giant asked.

  “The Morninglord is the god of beginnings,” the old bard said, letting his fingers stray across the gems inset in the saceddar. “There have been several beginnings involved in the legend of the Taker.”

  “Those legends have been around for thousands of years, as has this city. There are no beginnings there.”

  “Lathander is also the god of renewal. Just as you hoped to open Myth Nantar so that Serôs might again unite, the Morninglord wanted to see that happen. He has been working toward this end for a long time as well, else how would Jherek be here now?”

  “The young paladin truly holds great promise,” Qos said. “I’ve looked at many young men and women in my years at the academy, but the potential in him is strong.”

  “Jherek is another beginning,” Pacys said. He’d talked to the young paladin himself after Sabyna’s recovery, and Jherek told him some of what the Morninglord had revealed to him. “Not only does Lathander believe that Jherek will be one of the finest warriors to serve in his name, but Jherek will also be the first paladin to be based upon and in the seas of Toril.”

  “I have heard of ’seaguards,’ ” Qos said, “Paladins who ride upon ships and protect them for their lieges.”

  “Yes,” Pacys agreed, “but none of them have understood the sea as Jherek will. You’ve only begun to see the promise in him.”

  “If the Taker doesn’t destroy him.”

  Pacys studied Jherek among the crews seeking to clear the debris from the Great Gate. He didn’t say anything.

  “I’m sorry, Taleweaver,” Qos said after a moment. “I know that is never far from your mind. Nor, probably, from the young man’s.”

  “No.”

  “I’m still adjusting to the fact that Myth Nantar is once more open and no longer truly under my safekeeping.”

  “It will be all right.”

  “I hope.” Qos let out a long breath. “And how goes it for you, Taleweaver? I have listened to your music, and it sounds good to these ears. I’ve even heard parts of your songs being sung in the Resonant Horn Inn. The song you wrote for the Alu’Tel’Quessir during their long trek seems popular.”

  Pacys smiled, letting his pride grow. “Give me time, my friend, all who have participated in these efforts will have their part of the song.”

  “But at the heart of it will be the story of Iakhovas and that young paladin.”

  “Yes. I’m still working on that. It is going to be the best thing I’ve ever written.”

  “Provided your young hero survives,” Qos said.

  “The merfolk lead us into a trap,” Laaqueel said.

  She stood beside Iakhovas on Tarjana’s deck, watching as the mermen battled sahuagin and the few remaining drowned ones. Only a few koalinth remained among them after the ixitxachitls’ attack during the assault on Naulys.

  “Of course they do,” Iakhovas said. “They seek to slow us and let Myth Nantar prepare to meet us.”

  Laaqueel had seen that the city had been opened through the images in the crystal brain coral. Iakhovas peered through the crystal almost incessantly. She’d had no contact with the female voice that spoke with her at the Battle of Voalidru. She also hadn’t had to fight for her life since then.

  And since that battle, she hadn’t once prayed to Sekolah.

  “Then we’re going to go into the trap?” Laaqueel asked.

  Iakhovas smiled confidently. “I wouldn’t miss it, little malenti.”

  “Are you afraid?” Sabyna asked.

  Jherek cracked open a crab leg and dug out the tender meat inside. He sat with Sabyna on one of the benches on Maalirn’s Walk near the Fire Fountain. The flames blazed up in spite of the water, and cooks used the heat to prepare meals for the humans who weren’t used to eating uncooked seafood. They’d been in Myth Nantar now for five days.

  “Aye,” he told her without hesitation. “By all the stories I’ve been told of the Taker, by all the legends that Pacys has seen fit to tell me, he’s a fearsome creature. I’d be a fool not to be afraid.”

  “You don’t have to fight him.”

  Jherek was silent for a moment, then said, “Aye, but I do, lady. It’s as Lathander would have me do, and there are those who believe I might be the only chance there is to end his menace for all time.”

  “You mean Pacys and Glawinn believe that.”

  “Aye.”

  “One wants to sing about you, Jherek, and the other believes in heroes.”

  “Do you find me so hard to believe in, lady?”

  Sabyna shook her head, the anger in her features softening. “No,” she admitted, “I believe in you, Jherek, but I’m afraid for you, too.”

  “It only shows you have good sense.”

  “How can you joke about this?”

  “Lady, forgive me. I’m not joking. I just don’t want to burden you—or myself.”

  “What if I asked you not to do this?” Sabyna asked. “What if I asked you not to stand and fight with these people?”

  Jherek was silent for a moment, looking into her copper-colored eyes. “Would you?” he asked finally.

  She looked away from him. “Selûne help a misguided fool,” she said, “I should never have brought this up.”

  “Would you ask me?” Jherek asked quietly. “Now I need to know.”

  “If I was going to ask you, I already would have,” she told him. “I know what your answer would be anyway. It just seems so unfair that we have this between us and we stand on the brink of losing it all.”

  Jherek took her hand in his, squeezing it lightly. “Lady, I prefer to think that we stand on the brink of having more than I’d ever dreamed.”

  Tears glittered in her eyes, and he could tell she searched for something to say. “I’m sorry I even thought about asking you this, Jherek. It’s a streak of selfishness in me that I’m not proud of.”

  “It’s good to know the things you want.”

  She smiled through her tears. “I know I want you.”

  “As I want you, lady.” He lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed them softly. “Neither of us knows what the future may bring, and I’ve had enough of living in the past. I will take what I can get.”

  “I know.”

  “As for fighting the Taker, I won’t be going into that battle alone. Glawinn will be there, as well as a host of warriors who have spent their lives in battle.”

  “I don’t know why it has to be you.”

  “Nor do I, lady. I only know that I won’t walk away from this. All my life I’ve looked for something to believe in. Lathander is teaching me to believe in myself. No one caused me to be the way I am. I walk the path I do because I chose to walk it. I stayed with the people I did because I wanted to, not because I had to. Looking back as Lathander has bade me, I realize now that I had more choice in those matters than I thought I did. I stepped away from my father in search of becoming what was in me, not because of what I wanted but because I couldn’t accept what was there. If I walked away from this, I couldn’t accept myself. I wouldn’t feel as though I deserved you.”

  “I wouldn’t judge you harshly for walking away from this.”

  Jherek nodded. “I know.”

  “I love you.” />
  Her hand trailed gently across his face, briefly touching the water-softened scab that covered the slash on his cheek.

  “As I love you.” Jherek touched her face with the back of his hand, wiping away the tears he found there. “I could not love you so much did I not love honor, lady. It is all I know to be, and I would die before I betrayed that honor or my love for you.”

  “I know,” she said hoarsely, holding his head between her hands. “I know. One does not come without the price of the other. For either of us.”

  She pulled him closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. Jherek put his arms over her shoulders and held her tightly.

  “Die, huu-mannn!”

  Jherek lifted the cutlass and blocked the sea devil’s trident thrust. He willed Iridea’s Tear into a hook, reaching out quickly and tearing the throat from his opponent. He pushed the dying sahuagin away, almost bowled over by the next sea devil pushing up from behind.

  The young paladin stood with other defenders of Myth Nantar at Chamal Gate. The Taker’s final attack came after the triton offensive of the fifth of Uktar—only a couple days before—had split his forces. According to the tritons who’d reported to Qos, fully half his remaining army of sahuagin had turned and swam back to the Alamber Sea.

  The sound of steel against coral filled the area, ringing more stridently than Jherek was used to. Over it all he heard Pacys singing. The bard’s song rang true within him, making him feel stronger and more confident. Iakhovas’s army still outnumbered the Myth Nantarn defenders nearly two to one, even after the tritons’ victory.

  Fighting undersea wasn’t like fighting on a ship’s deck, Jherek discovered. Underwater, the sahuagin could come at him from above as well as ahead and behind—and they didn’t have any sense of honor. Nor did they abide by the Laws of Battle he’d heard so many of the Serôsians lived and died by.

  “Fall back and regroup!” Morgan Ildacer shouted, waving his troops back. The High Mages had named the sea elf captain to head up one of the defensive units.