Under Fallen Stars

by Mel Odom

  “And now,” Huaanton stated, “I bring to you a champion!” He pointed again.

  On the opposite side of the amphitheater, another set of gates released a huge diamond-shaped manta ray that streaked out into the open center court. The combined noises of displeasure from the sahuagin spectators were even louder. Manta rays closely resembled the sahuagin’s sworn enemies, the ixitxachitls.

  The sahuagin guards immediately backpedaled through the water, pulling back and above the amphitheater. Getting its bearings almost at once, obviously starved for days, the manta ray flipped its broad fins and closed on the group of surface dwellers.

  The sea creature was among them before they could scatter. It seized one of the surface dwellers in its mouth, swallowing the man in a single gulp as it cruised through. Another man of the surviving four attacked, gripping one of the leather wings in one hand as the creature passed, then pulling himself to its back. The manta ray flicked out its stinger and barbed a man. In seconds the stricken man succumbed to the tail’s paralytic effects and hung motionless in the water.

  The man clinging to the manta ray’s back dug in with his knife. Laaqueel admired the man’s tenacity. He was meeting his death with a bravery and anger a sahuagin could respect.

  Wounds reluctantly opened up in the manta ray’s back. Blood gushed in threads behind it, curling and fragmenting in the wake. Flicking its wings again, the manta ray increased its speed, obviously hoping to shake its attacker from its back. Graceful and desperate, the creature planed through the water, curling back to where it had first encountered the humans. Blood spilled out in a fog behind it as the human kept sinking his blade home.

  As they watched the deadly duel taking shape in the amphitheater, the sahuagin seated in the tiers cheered loudly and slapped their feet encouragingly. Even though they hated the surface dwellers, the humans were the underdogs in the battle, and the sahuagin respected that all too familiar position.

  Pride and hope flared anew in Laaqueel, driving away the fear that Iakhovas’s promise for the day had instilled in her. This was Sekolah’s promise to his chosen people. Born and bred for battle, the death matches that played out in the amphitheaters of all the cities remained proof of their eventual destiny to conquer. She watched and prayed to the Shark God, begging for forgiveness for ever allowing even a shred of doubt to enter her heart. Whether Iakhovas’s claim to be acting on the will of Sekolah was true or false, she would know in only a short time. However it turned out, she chose to put her faith in the Shark God. She watched the battle in rapt attention.

  The manta ray scooped up the paralyzed victim on its next pass, gulping him down effortlessly as well. It flipped its wings again and swam for the outskirts of the amphitheater. Before it could reach the edges high over the gathered crowd, four sharks under the control of the sahuagin guards swam to meet it. Reluctantly, the manta ray turned back.

  Taking a fresh grip on the leathery wing he held, the human on the manta ray’s back pulled himself forward while the creature turned. The human slithered over the manta’s wing, still maintaining his hold. On the inside of the wing now, a safe distance from the fanged mouth, the human dug in with his knife again, ripping through the manta’s softer underbelly.

  Angry and fearful, driven by irrational hunger as well, the manta returned for the two humans who had gone to ground against the coral tiles. Laaqueel noticed that the manta’s movements were no longer as sure or as quick as they had been. The wounds robbed it of constitution, continuing to leech its strength away.

  The cavernous mouth scooped up a third victim as the man tried to flee. Evidently encouraged by his comrade’s success, the last human grabbed the manta’s wing as well, but he didn’t have enough skill to do more than simply hang on.

  Long minutes passed and the struggle continued, but in the end there could be no doubt. Starved and weakened by its captivity, further depleted by the blood loss, the manta gave in to the wounds. It struggled only weakly as it drifted down and came to a rest against one side of the amphitheater’s coral-tiled floor. With a final flicker of wing movement, the great manta ray died, leaving only the ocean currents to stir it.

  Immediately, a thunderous swell of appreciation and encouragement rose from the sahuagin spectators. They pushed to their feet and filled the amphitheater with their triumph.

  Laaqueel chose to view the battle as a sign. It was not a sign from Sekolah—the Shark God didn’t trouble himself with the affairs of anyone, including his chosen people—but the victory of the surface dwellers over the giant manta ray, the small versus the large, represented the backbone of sahuagin ideals. Still, her heart pounded inside her chest at the anticipation of Huaanton’s introduction of Iakhovas.

  Slowly, the surface dwellers disentangled themselves from the manta ray, partly hidden from sight by the cloudy blood swirling around them. They swam fearfully, uncertain of what to do next.

  Huaanton raised his great trident again, then turned the tines down.

  Immediately the sahuagin guards closed in, fanning through the water with their webbed hands and feet. The humans tried to flee, but they didn’t have the speed and there was nowhere to go. With a practiced toss, the closest sahuagin to each man snared their prey with the barbed nets they carried. They pulled the nets tight, sinking the hooked barbs into flesh and binding their prisoners.

  Even winners didn’t make it out of the amphitheater alive. It wasn’t the sahuagin way. The spectators cheered again, bloodlust filling them.

  The human who’d first attacked the manta ray was brought before Huaanton. The sahuagin king regarded the bound figure at his feet with contempt. The human spat out curses that Laaqueel knew few except her understood. She listened as the man alternately called out to his gods for help and for vengeance.

  Huaanton ripped away the barbed net in a practiced fashion. Small trickles of blood ran from the dozens of wounds covering the surface dweller’s body and mixed with the sea, creating a sensory explosion to Laaqueel. She knew the king’s Royal Black Tridents, his personal bodyguards, and the other priestesses were affected by the taste in the water they breathed.

  In a show of amazing defiance, obviously knowing what was to become of him, the surface dweller plunged his blade toward the sahuagin king’s broad chest.

  Before even the hardened members of the Royal Black Tridents could move to intercept the strike, Huaanton lifted the royal trident. After deflecting the knife, the sahuagin king reversed the trident and swung the tines at the human’s neck.

  Blood exploded into the water as the jagged edged tines ripped through the pale flesh. Even as death claimed the surface dweller, Huaanton grabbed the man’s head, cracked the spinal column with his great strength, and finished the decapitation. Holding the head, he shoved the corpse back to the guards.

  “Share the bounty of this brave warrior,” the sahuagin king commanded. “Let his flesh impart to you his courage and cunning. Meat is meat.”

  “Meat is meat!” the crowd responded.

  Huaanton stripped flesh from the head, savoring it with obvious gusto. He ate while the remains of both prisoners were distributed through the spectators. Other guards carved up the manta ray, then emptied the creature’s stomach and disbursed the meat from its victims.

  Laaqueel waited, but none of the flesh was offered to her despite the fact that nearly all of the king’s personal priestesses got some. She bore her hurt and anger quietly. As a malenti she’d become accustomed to such treatment, but as senior priestess to a prince, there were few she’d accept it from these days. Joining with Iakhovas even though she had her doubts about him had benefited her in rank. Having to trust in Sekolah to guide her through the treacherous currents that lay ahead had made her even stronger.

  Finishing with his impromptu meal, Huaanton threw the stripped skull from him. A shark hovering overhead glided down and snatched the skull less than an arm’s length from the sahuagin king. Bone crunched as the shark bit its prize and swam away.

&
nbsp; “We are come upon great times for our people,” Huaanton stated. His clicks and whistles carried strongly to the amphitheater spectators. “Only two tendays ago, we staged the most magnificent raid ever in the history of our race against the hated surface world. Waterdeep, their prize gem, located in the stronghold of the humans, suffered our wrath. We killed them where we found them, burned their ships in the harbor, and—most of all—we taught them again what it is to fear We Who Eat.”

  Tridents rattled in the stone tiers, striking a syncopation and cadence that echoed through the water for a brief moment. Laaqueel felt the controlled revelry and took pride in her part in it. For good or ill, however events progressed with Iakhovas in the next few moments, she had helped bring these victories to her people.

  “In past days,” Huaanton went on, “we’ve continued raiding their ships and striking other small coastal villages and cities within our reach. Their sea trade has slowed and they no longer cross our waters as complacently.”

  More trident rattling punctuated by whistles and clicks followed.

  “I chose these tactics,” Huaanton said, “because I was compelled by the great Shark God, Sekolah, to go forth and spill the blood of our enemies, to eat their flesh and become strong again.”

  Another thunderous cheer sounded.

  Huaanton looked out over the spectators. “I will ever do Sekolah’s bidding that I might take my rightful place in the currents he has left for us to swim. I know these times will be turbulent and trying. We Who Eat were birthed to be tested under the harshest conditions, against the strongest of enemies. No weakness shall be permitted.” He paused. “But now, I’ve had to consider where we go from here, and how far we should pursue our war.”

  Laaqueel saw a flurry of movement to the left of the king and knew instinctively it was Iakhovas. She started to move, but the cold quiver of the black quill Iakhovas had placed next to her heart when she had discovered him in the Veemeeros Sea all those years ago froze her in place.

  Don’t fret so, little malenti, his rough voice whispered in her mind as he confronted the Royal Black Tridents who blocked his path. Else your own uncertainties about Sekolah will threaten everything you hope to do here. Look into your own heart and seize those convictions you so pride yourself on.

  Stung, Laaqueel stayed in place. Iakhovas’s words challenged her uncertainty. As a malenti, she’d been cursed from birth, allowed to stay within the sahuagin city where she’d been born only because she could be raised as a spy. Her belief in Sekolah had been the only thing that kept her going through all those long years. Without her faith, she would be nothing.

  “Do you think then,” Iakhovas interrupted the sahuagin king, “that we should back down and fear retribution on part of the surface dwellers?” His words thundered over the assembly.

  Instantly, the amphitheater grew quiet as death.

  Huaanton turned to Iakhovas and waved the bodyguards away. Iakhovas walked up the steps. To Laaqueel, he appeared to be human, but she knew he wasn’t. He stood a full head taller than her, but much shorter than Huaanton. He was broad, yet lithe, filled with long muscles that moved easily. His black hair hung past his shoulders, somehow unmoved by the ocean currents that cycled around the area.

  Despite the scars that tracked his face, Iakhovas was handsome as humans considered themselves, but his features held cold cruelty. The short beard and mustache he wore covered part of his face and softened the effect of the scars. He wore a sleeveless deep green tunic that revealed the runic black tattoos that covered his arms, legs, and body. Laaqueel knew they covered his entire body because she’d seen Iakhovas naked the day she’d found him. Black breeches, boots, and a black cape completed his ensemble. A deep green patch covered his missing eye.

  Although she’d tried for years to identify the bracelets, rings, and other adornments Iakhovas habitually wore and added to, Laaqueel didn’t know anything more than that they were magical in nature. Most of them were weapons or defenses. Her own reticence in the matter had held her back because she was loath to touch them and didn’t dare ask after them. All of them, she knew, had been recovered in the years since she’d found him. He and creatures in his service had sought them out. One of those items had been the sole reason Iakhovas had journeyed to Waterdeep.

  If Iakhovas had appeared as a human to the sahuagin, Laaqueel knew they’d have killed him on the spot—or died trying. However, thanks to the spells he constantly wove around himself, the sahuagin saw him as one of their own, only slightly less in stature to Huaanton himself.

  The malenti had even helped Iakhovas fake his own birth into her community after she’d brought him back. Once there, he’d quickly risen through the ranks by blood challenges and his sheer ferocity. Those traits, she’d decided, were as natural to him as any sahuagin, something no human she’d ever seen could match.

  Now Iakhovas was prince among the sahuagin, a war chief they’d relied on heavily for the raid on Waterdeep. He still had his own agenda, and stopping the sahuagin raids conflicted with that intensely.

  “Watch yourself,” Huaanton warned softly. He flexed his muscles and intentionally set the trident between Iakhovas and himself. “You swim heavily over the largess I’ve granted you.”

  Iakhovas met the king’s gaze directly, something no true sahuagin would do without starting a blood feud. Laaqueel was surprised when Huaanton didn’t react to the obvious insubordination. She felt the fear ball up in her stomach and she started praying silently.

  “Exalted One,” Iakhovas addressed the sahuagin king in a voice that carried to the masses, “I am come here at this tide at your direction. A tenday ago, we discussed the possibilities of continuing our war with the surface dwellers. You challenged me to produce a sign from Sekolah that my words be proven true when I said the Shark God wanted us, We Who Eat and Sekolah’s Chosen, to take the oceans back from the surface dwellers.”

  Low mutterings moved through the spectators and they shifted uneasily. Laaqueel continued her prayers, touching the shark-toothed necklace she wore. Her eyes flickered between Huaanton and Iakhovas.

  “Yet now,” Iakhovas continued, “I am here and I listen to you on the verge of canceling all further attacks on the surface dwellers.”

  “Our people shall not die needlessly,” Huaanton announced.

  “Sekolah has given me a vision,” Iakhovas said. Only Laaqueel saw the mocking smile that played over his cruel lips. “There is a new tide upon us, a new time in which the sahuagin will be rejuvenated and made stronger than we’ve ever been before.”

  The spectators stamped their webbed feet in appreciation and yelled out their support.

  “Words,” Huaanton snarled. “You offer us only words. You carry on like some surface dweller who loves the sound of his own voice.”

  The smile dropped from Iakhovas’s face, and deadly lights glittered in his single eye. “I offer only words of warning, Exalted One, because I was bade carry them to you as well. Sekolah has made me see the weakness in you.”

  Laaqueel stopped praying, knowing that Iakhovas had gone too far. Even an indirect accusation of cowardice among the sahuagin was enough to trigger a blood challenge.

  “I told you of Sekolah’s will,” Iakhovas went on. “I told you how we are to continue raiding the world of the surface dwellers. Yet, you concern yourself with thoughts of their retribution. Sekolah says let them come, and let We Who Eat stand against them.”

  The spectators roared their approval.

  “The tide of the Great Cleansing is upon us,” Iakhovas stated, “and it shall see the weak and cowardly driven from us or dead as Sekolah wills it. The true warriors of the Shark God shall prevail against our enemies. We shall be unstoppable even though we fill the oceans with blood and drench the dry lands beyond!”

  Huaanton raised his trident, instantly quieting all the noise around him. “You talk brave words, but they’re only words. They ring as hollow as an abandoned hermit crab’s shell, and are as fleeting as gulls fe
eding in shark-infested waters. I’ve seen no sign from Sekolah.”

  “How dare you,” Iakhovas said bitterly, his voice cutting as surely as a spinefish’s fin. “Sekolah has never owed We Who Eat anything, yet you choose to view him as one who should be at your beck and call.”

  Laaqueel took pride in the fact that the spectators all sat up and took notice of Iakhovas’s words. It didn’t matter that he’d borrowed them from her from the time they’d last met with Huaanton. They were true, and the sahuagin sitting in the stone tiers recognized them for that.

  Huaanton reacted hotly. “You’re putting words in my mouth.”

  “No,” Iakhovas said, cutting him off. “Laaqueel has prayed about this matter ever since that time. And she fought you regarding this issue, telling you how out of place your demands were. You were out of line asking for a sign that we’re carrying on as Sekolah would have us do. We survive, and we survive strongly and in numbers. That’s all he’s ever asked of us.”

  “Yet, if we were to follow you, all we would find is our deaths against the surface dwellers.”

  Iakhovas looked at him, fire dancing in his single eye. “Only the inadequate fail!” he shouted.

  That was one of the core beliefs for the sahuagin, Laaqueel knew. All of them had been trained since hatchlings that it was true.

  “The brave and strong shall flourish,” Iakhovas went on. “The tide of the Great Cleansing is upon us!” He gestured across the amphitheater. “Should you want your sign that you so inelegantly demanded of we who choose to follow Sekolah’s true way, then behold and tremble at the power of the Shark God!”

  Every eye was drawn across the amphitheater. Laaqueel watched as well, noticing the huge mass that took shape out in the distance. At first it blended in with the deep blue of the sea, then it paled as it came closer. In moments, the great albino kraken hovered above the amphitheater.

  The kraken’s two longest tentacles drifted out at its sides while the other six coiled restlessly beneath its body. The single baleful eye on the arrow-shaped head, reminding the malenti of her master’s, glared red even in the dark waters. Its tentacles were over one hundred and fifty feet long, making it the largest of its kind Laaqueel had ever seen or even heard about.