Under Fallen Stars - Mel Odom [106]
"Very good," she complimented.
"Lady," Jherek said, bowing slightly. Then, aware that he was shirtless, he went to the tree to get his clothes. He pulled his shirt on with his back to her, covered with sweat and breathing hard from his exertions.
"The boy is good," Glawinn said, sheathing his sword with a flourish. "With the proper training and time, he stands a chance of becoming an accomplished swordsman."
"I see. While the two of you were so gainfully engaged, did either of you happen to think about dinner?"
Jherek glanced up, noticing the deep plum color darkening the eastern sky where Westgate lay. "No, lady, I'm sorry. I'll take care of it straight away." He felt embarrassed, knowing he should have remembered how hungry she would be after getting no sleep last night and traveling all day.
"Actually," Sabyna said mischievously, "there's no reason to worry. I've already taken care of it." She held up a stringer of catfish. "I took a little time off from my studies."
A gin split Glawinn's short-cropped beard. "And a profitable time it was too, lady. You have our humblest appreciation."
"I caught them," Sabyna announced, "but I'm not cleaning or cooking."
"I'll take care of it, lady," Jherek offered.
He studied her face as he took the fish, noticing the fatigue clinging to her features. She hadn't said anything about Tynnel's actions or what they meant to her. She and Tynnel had been together for awhile. He couldn't help feeling that he'd torn them apart. If he hadn't shipped aboard Breezerunner none of the resulting confusion would have happened. He carried bad luck with him, just as Aysel and Tynnel had said.
"Are you all right?" she asked him.
Jherek smiled at her. "I'm fine. I'll be back as soon as I can."
"I could help. I really don't mind cleaning fish."
"No," he said. "You've done enough, and I'd like some time to myself. Maybe when no one's looking I could grab a quick bath."
She nodded, and turned away from him, walking back to the knight and the campfire.
Too late, Jherek realized he might have hurt her feelings by rejecting her offer. She'd just walked away from everything she'd known out of a debt she felt she owed him. He thought of calling out to her, then decided not to. If she grew angry with him, maybe she would accompany Glawinn while he pursued Vurgrom the Mighty. Maybe he could even persuade the paladin to see her back to the River Chionthar and find a ship that would take her back to the Sea of Swords.
He walked down the hillside where the stench of the fish cleaning wouldn't overpower the campsite. One thing he was certain of: Where he was headed was no place for a woman.
XX
17 Kythorn, the Year of the Gauntlet
"Come, little malenti, you wished to see what your people spent their blood on. Now I will show you."
Hesitantly, Laaqueel crossed the throne room of the sahuagin palace, walking past the throne carved of whalebone, its jaws distended to hold the seat. Images of sharks and sahuagin stood out in bas-relief on the limestone blocks that made up the walls. She'd stood gazing through one of the windows overlooking the amphitheater.
Sahuagin warriors had assembled there to work on the fliers they'd gathered and built to undertake Iakhovas's latest mission. The fliers were seventy-five feet across at their widest and two hundred feet long, tapering at the ends. Salvaged wood from shipwrecks and surface dweller buildings on shore contributed to the construction. Each flier could hold up to six hundred sahuagin. Currently, there were fourteen fliers in various stages of preparation, and more were supposed to be coming soon. The deepsong had reached sahuagin everywhere-and they had come.
Iakhovas strode to the opposite end of the room where the huge image of Sekolah meeting the sahuagin occupied the wall. The image showed