The Coral Kingdom - Douglas Niles [105]
Still, progress remained steady, and always the heavy bank of land lay to the west. Then on the second day out from the grotto, they began to notice that the land swept away, no longer running north to south but instead commencing a great curve away from them-the southern terminus of Evermeet. A low, rocky horizon loomed to the south-the Guardian Isle of Belintholme, according to the sea elf.
"Sail due south for two or three hours from here," Palentor instructed the Prince of Gnarhelm, Brandon. "That'll take you beyond the reefs. Then you can swing your course around to the east and a little south."
"Aye-and thanks," grunted the northman. Brandon had come to respect the sea elf mightily. Also, he fully understood the value of his guidance on this embarkation, for it had saved them from the pitched battle that would have inevitably ensued if they had sailed straight east.
"It-it has been my pleasure," replied Palentor, with apparent sincerity. He and Trillhalla took a few moments to say good-bye to the others in the crew, and then the sea elves disappeared over the side into the mottled waters.
For a few moments, they watched the pair until they vanished. Then, favored by a strong westerly wind, with the sea before them calm and inviting, the Princess of Moonshae started on the final leg of her quest.
* * * * *
Darkness shrouded the longship, though a dim phosphorescence gleamed in the white water pushed aside by her racing bow. The sail stretched taut, pressed by a steady wind, and Brandon himself had the rudder as they charged through the night. It was a few hours after sunset on the first day of their return to the open sea. Belintholme had vanished astern sometime during the afternoon.
The Prince of Gnarhelm fixed his eyes upon the waters ahead, and the sleepy lookouts, too, kept their attention on the ocean surface surrounding the boat. None looked for trouble in the shadowed confines of the hull.
But that was where Luge stirred, once again kindled to the task that he did not understand-or even acknowledge, once the morning sun crested the horizon. Now the little northman crept to the gunwale, undetected by his comrades. His hand reached into the secret pouch, removing one of the tiny bells, as it had done every night of their outbound voyage from Gwynneth. In a quick motion, he cast the object over the side and crept back to his bench.
Below and behind the speeding longship, sinking steadily into the depths of the ocean, the tiny bell began to ring.
* * * * *
The vast undersea army hovered in its screen, stretching more than two hundred miles along Evermeet's coast. Creatures of the deep, the sahuagin and scrags kept their distance from the coastal shallows around that great island. The deadly defenses of the sea elves were well known to these aquatic raiders. Nevertheless, they formed a solid cordon along the drop-off, where the coastal shallows plummeted into ocean depth.
Coss-Axell-Sinioth slipped along the length of the great formation, unable to dispel a sense of unease, although he was pleased with the alertness, the barely contained killing frenzy, he saw among his minions. His huge squid body loomed great among the teeming scrags and sahuagin, and an escort of giant barracuda cleared the waters before the avatar wherever he went.
The remaining Manta Sinioth held in the center of the line, crewed by his most powerful sahuagin and several elite corps of sea trolls. Krell-Bane himself, the monstrous sea troll, captained the great raft. The army was poised and ready, prepared to strike any place along that vast front.
Of course, there was a possibility that the longship had been sunk, but it was a likelihood Coss-Axell-Sinioth did not believe. This belief had nothing to do with sensing the life-force of his enemies or anything like that. Instead, the feeling owed its persistence to Sinioth's sense of destiny: He couldn't believe the issue would be settled without a direct battle between the human foe and his own