Thraxos shook his head. "No, Ariella. This is more important. When you've delivered the message, you can send someone back for me, but this word must get to the Sea of Fallen Stars. Now, repeat the message."
She had to repeat it many times before he was satisfied. All the while, he was conscious of the passing moments and of the expiring life span of the tiger she needed for protection. At last she was ready.
He pointed into the darkness. "There seems to be a trail along there leading downward. It probably goes off the plateau into the valley. When you get to th bottom, strike due west and you should find the settle ments. Hurry, now. I'm relying on you and…" Hi paused a moment, then brought out triumphant!} "Sheeraga."
"Sheeraga," she said thoughtfully, looking fondly a the great cat. "That's a nice name. Yes. I'll call you that Come on, Sheeraga."
The tiger rose, walked over to Thraxos, licked hii hair, then followed Ariella into the darkness.
Thraxos sank back into the pool and surveyed hi! surroundings. The body of the ogre, in falling, ha‹ splashed more of the water out of the pool and tha which was left was an unpleasant compound of blooc and mud, only a few feet deep.
The night passed slowly, and the sun rose, burning in the east. The pool grew hot, and tiny wisps of stean rose from its surface. By noon it had shrunk to half its size. Thraxos's body lay half in the remaining water but the pool grew steadily smaller. With a final effort the merman rolled on his side and gazed out over the rolling hills of Faerun. From where he lay, he could see far in the distance, at the very edge of sight, a thin line of blue. The sea, he thought, the Sea of Fallen Stars.
He dreamed that he dived deep into the water laughing, crying with joy, chasing fish in and out oi reefs, clinging to dolphins as they skimmed along the surface. Above him, below him, all around him was his world. Slowly it faded, and Thraxos felt a great peace.
To the west, a little girl with a dirty face and a torn dress marched stalwartly up to a cottage door and knocked. The stout peasant woman who opened the door stared at her in amazement as the girl said, "Hello. My name is Ariella. I have a message for the merfolk of the Sea of Fallen Stars. It's really quite urgent. Hadn't you better let me in? Then perhaps you can help me to get there."
Pausing, she looked behind her, where the setting sun turned the hills blood-red, and smiled.
The Place Where Guards Snore at Their Posts
Ed Greenwood
9 Kythorn, the Year of the Gauntlet
Their jaws were clamped shut, forefin muscles puls ing in the tightening that signified irritation or disap proval. The orders and judgment of Iakhovas evidently weren't good enough for these sahuagin. Bloody minded idiots.
Sardinakh uncoiled his tentacles from the halberds and harpoons he'd been oh-so-absently caressing since their arrival, and settled himself a little closer to th(map on the chartroom table. He did this slowly, to shov the fish-heads just how little he feared them, anc tapped the lord's seal on the dryland map of Mintarn- the seal of the sahuagin lord Rrakulnar-to reminc them that their superiors, at least, respected the authority of a "mere squid."
The orders I was personally given by Iakhovas," he said gently, driving the point home a little deeper, "were to blockade Mintarn, allowing nothing into, or more importantly, out of, its harbors. Taking the island would be a bold stroke-and I frankly find it an attractive one-but it cannot be our main concern. Before all else, we must prevent ships from leaving Mintarn to go to the aid of Waterdeep, Baldur's Gate, and the other coastal cities."
"And that isss bessst done," the larger and burlier of the sahuagin hissed, affecting the invented accent of Crowndeep, the fabled-and perhaps mythical- cradle-city of Sword Coast sahuagin, "by capturing the entire isle." He spoke as if explaining bald facts to a simple child, not his commanding officer.
Fleetingly, but not for the first time, Sardinakh wondered if Iakhovas derived some dark and private amusement from putting seafolk who hated each other together, one commanding the other. Perhaps it was merely to make treachery unlikely, but it certainly made for some sharp-toothed moments.
The tako slid a lazy tentacle across the map, to let the fish-heads know he was no more frightened now than when they'd begun drifting forward from the other side of the table to loom close in beside him, fingering their spears and daggers.
"We'll discuss this at greater length as the bright-water unfolds," he told them. "I see that Mlawerlath approaches."
The sunken ship that served Sardinakh as a headquarters lay canted at an angle on a reef that had grown over it, claimed it, and now held what was left of it together. Those remains did not include most a the landward side of the hull, which left the hulk opei to the scouring currents-and provided a panorami view of the gulf of dappled blue water across whicl Mlawerlath was swimming.
Mlav was impetuous and ambitious, more like th‹ sahuagin than his own kind, and so ran straight int‹ the jaws of his own reckless impatience far too often Yet unlike the fish-heads menacingly crowding Sardi nakh's office, his hide still wore the dappling of rav youth. Their overly bold ways were long years set, am a problem he was going to have to contend with.
Sharkblood, he was contending with it now! Like al tako, Sardinakh could dwell ashore or beneath th(waves, though he preferred warmer waters than these He knew Mintarn's worth. To drylanders it was ar island strategic to Sword Coast shipping, offering ar excellent natural harbor and independence from th‹ shore realms' laws, feuds, and taxes. Sardinakh alst knew he hated these two sahuagin officers even mor‹ than he hated all fish-heads, and must contrive to gei them killed before they did as much for him. Unfortu nately, they commanded a strong and able fighting force of their own kind that outnumbered all others here at Downfoam six to one, or more. His momenl must be chosen with extreme care.
Thankfully, "extreme care" was a concept most take embraced, and no sahuagin really understood. If onlj Mlav could be taught to use some measure of it before it was too late.
"Perhapsss we could now deliver our important re portsss," the sahuagin Narardiir said, in a tone thai made it clear he was neither requesting nor waiting foi permission to do so.
Sardinakh carefully did not glance at Mlawerlath's approaching form as he said in a cool, almost flippant tone, "Why don't you?"
Both sahuagin hissed to show their displeasure at that, but when he neither looked at them or made any reaction, they were forced to move on. Their black eyes were staring, always staring. Ineffectual gogglers. He turned his back on them to show fish-heads held no fear for this wrinkled old tako.
"There is newsss both good and bad from our ssspiesss assshore," Narardiir began stiffly. "The dragon Hoondarrh, the one called 'the Red Rage of Mintarn,' has not long ago begun a Long Sssleep in his cave. Ssshould we invade, he won't intervene."
"The good news," Sardinakh agreed calmly, his eyes now on Mlawerlath as the tako passed over the outermost sentries, regarded but unchallenged. "And the bad?"
The other sahuagin spoke this time-and, by the mercy of whatever god governed sea refuse, did so plainly. "Recent dryland pirate smuggling and slaving has driven the human Tarnheel Embuirhan, who styles himself the Tyrant of Mintarn and is the dryland ruler of the isle, to hire a company of mercenaries to serve Mintarn as a harbor garrison. A human force, and highly-trained, by name the 'Black Buckler Band.' It is thought, and we concur, that they won't hesitate to wake the dragon if beset by foes who seem on the verge of victory."
"There isss little elssse to report," Narardiir added, "but-"
"That is a good thing," Sardinakh interrupted smoothly, "because Mlawerlath is here."
As he spoke, the younger tako flung out his tentacles in all directions, to serve as a brake to his powerfu journeying, and slid into Sardinakh's office with hi: tentacles rippling, water swirling around them, am grace hurled to the currents.