The Coral Kingdom - Douglas Niles [98]
"Druids are not without useful abilities in this situation as well," Robyn pointed out.
Palentor looked at them all, his eyes wide and an expression of guarded respect on his features. "One thing that has not been exaggerated is the courage of humanity. I… begin to believe that you may accomplish your objective."
"That's a relief," muttered Alicia. She flushed when the sea elf turned his almond eyes toward her, then stared in astonishment as he concluded.
"Even more," Palentor added, with the first smile-albeit a small one-that the visitors had seen on his face. "I hope that you succeed."
With a quiet nod at all of them, the sea elf turned away and sliced through the waters of the grotto in a clean dive.
* * * * *
"Who are you?" croaked the chained figure, his tone weakened almost to the point of death.
"I am-" He wanted to say that he was Tristan Kendrick, High King of the Ffolk. Somehow that fact didn't seem important now. "I'm a prisoner here, like you. Only they didn't chain me."
"They assumed the water would stop you. I need more secure restraint." With a tight smile, the merman gestured with his fishy tail in case Tristan missed the point. "I am Marqillor, of Deepvale," added the prisoner.
"Tristan Kendrick, of the Moonshaes."
"I know those islands."
The words were like a flame of hope to the king. "You do? Where are they? Where are we?"
Marqillor shifted uncomfortably. "We are in the dungeon of Krell-Bane, in the heart of Kyrasti, his great fortress in the Coral Kingdom," the merman explained. "The cells of air, where Krell-Bane's most hated prisoners are kept."
The chained captive leaned his head against the wall, and his mouth worked weakly, as if he struggled for enough air to breathe.
"Can I help you?" Tristan asked, examining the brackets, both of which seemed secure.
"Water…" The merman gasped weakly and nodded toward the pool where Tristan had emerged. "It almost killed you, I know, but without it, I will die."
The king saw a large bucket near the wall of the cell and went to fill it. "To drink?" he asked as he returned.
Marqillor smiled and shook his head. "Throw it over me," he said. Tristan did so, and immediately he saw the merman's expression grow softer. He leaned back in apparent bliss. "Again… please?"
The human willingly soaked down his fellow prisoner, amazed at the abrupt transformation. Within moments, Marqillor seemed vibrant and healthy. He strained, albeit fruitlessly, at his bonds.
"Are they trying to kill you?" asked Tristan. "Is that why they keep you out of the water?"
"No. They enjoy the torment, that's all. When I reach the point of complete collapse, they come and revive me. Sometimes I've awakened to find Krell-Bane himself observing me."
"Krell-Bane… tell me about him. Who or what is he?"
The merman described the scrag king and his race. "The sea trolls are the inherent masters of the sahuagin."
"Much the way trolls control orcs and goblins on the surface," Tristan realized. "And this is their palace?"
"Aye," grunted Marqillor. He looked at Tristan quizzically. "Do you know that you're five hundred feet below the surface of the sea?"
Now it was the human's turn to sag wearily backward. "I guess I'm not completely surprised, though how I got here alive I couldn't tell you."
"The scrags have ways," Marqillor stated. "Though normally they don't bother with the effort. They keep only prisoners who they feel will make valuable hostages."
The two captives looked at each other with the same idea.
"I'm High King of the Moonshaes," Tristan stated bluntly.
Marqillor smiled wryly. "And I am the Crown Prince of Deepvale," he concluded.
* * * * *
Sinioth lurked in the depths, seething with impatience. Were the humans dead, slain by the cyclones of Evermeet? Or did they still live, plotting and planning against his master?
The more he agonized, the more he convinced himself