Under Fallen Stars - Mel Odom [16]
The response started, low at first, then continuing to gain power as the decision swept through the crowd. "Iakhovas, Exalted One of We Who Eat. Iakhovas, Exalted One of We Who Eat."
Iakhovas turned and grinned at Laaqueel. Ah, little malenti, do you see the greatness we have wrought? We forge our new destinies from this point on. You and I, both castaways, have risen to the greatest positions among the largest and fiercest sahuagin in the Claarteeros Sea. No one may stop us now. No one!
If it is what Sekolah wills, she replied.
His single eye burned into hers. You have doubts?
Not in the Great Shark. Perhaps in myself.
Then, little malenti, when you find yourself too weak to believe in yourself, believe in me. Iakhovas raised both hands above his head, holding the trident proudly. "I am king!" he roared. "None shall stand against us. The surface world shall quake in fear of We Who Eat, for they shall surely come to know that only their deaths await them in the seas we claim!"
The sahuagin cheered him, and Laaqueel watched as the fervor gripped her people. There was no turning back now, she knew. Iakhovas wouldn't allow it, and now he controlled everything.
"And our next victory," Iakhovas declared, "shall be at Baldur's Gate!"
The cheering rose in thunderous approval again.
Turning, Iakhovas hacked Huaanton's body to pieces and gave them up to the currents around him. The sahuagin surged from their seats, swimming to him rapidly to take part in devouring their last king.
"Come," Iakhovas invited as he continued to slash at the dwindling corpse. "We must be strong for our coming battles. Meat is meat!"
II
3 Mirtul, the Year of the Gauntlet
"You're pushing yourself too hard, old friend. If I could, I'd like to talk you out of this present course of action."
Taranath Reefglamor, senior High Mage of Seros, the undersea world in the region known as the Sea of Fallen Stars, glanced at his companion and pierced him with his barbed gaze. Over the centuries, the look he gave the younger man was reputed to have withered even past Coronals who'd ruled over the sea elven kingdom where he lived. "If I'd wanted your counsel, Pharom Ildacer, I trust you know that I'd have requested it. As I'd have asked you to address me so casually, as if the station I've worked so hard to attain didn't matter."
Ildacer's round face blanched and his posture suddenly straightened. "Yes, Senior Reefglamor. If I've erred in any way, I offer my deepest apologies."
"Offer all you may," Reefglamor replied, "you cannot take back words once spoken. I know you learned that at my knee."
Inclining his head, Ildacer said, "It is indeed as you say, Senior Reefglamor."
Reefglamor leaned back in his chair, trying to find comfort in the seaweed padding it seemed he couldn't live without these days. He looked old and wizened, ravaged by time's ceaseless hand and the battles he'd undertaken while defending his people. The studies he'd conducted to become senior mage had been no less strenuous.
He possessed the thin build, pointed chin and pointed ears exhibited by so many of the alu'tel'quessir. The blue skin with white patches further marked him with his sea elven heritage. His silver-white hair was bound back by a beaten gold circlet with carved glyphs and hung down nearly to his waist. Though shrouded by fatigue and red lines that seemed more like scars these days, his dark green eyes never wavered. He wore a pale blue diaphanous silken weave that bore the purple and black stripes of his office and the crystal clear dolphin that was the chosen symbol of Deep Sashelas for those few who didn't immediately know him by sight.
They sat at a round table in his sanctum. The room was generous but still filled to overflowing with the accoutrements and trappings of his chosen path. It was rumored, and rightly so, that he had almost as many volumes on magery in his home as were