Making the assumption Landhopper braincases were of comparable thickness to Cetari skulls, Lasbow doubted the preferred method of dispatching a snared fish, inserting a knife behind the eye to skewer the brain, would work cleanly. Opting for the direct approach rather than experimenting, he went for the broadest target visible and rammed his enamel blade into the Landhopper's gut. Forgetting the barbs lodged in his shoulder, the stabbed frogman thrashed against the pain lancing his stomach. Clinching the Piawro catcher, Lasbow thrust his knife upwards, fixating on the terror widening the other's bulbous eyes. Driving the serrated point deep into his foe's unprotected chest, he managed to puncture the right lung; amphib organ placement compared favourably with human physiology, minus the ribcage. The delicate tissue haemorrhaged, and the lung started to collapse. His chest constricting, the doomed amphib refused to give in to his impending death without a protest. Lasbow clutched him tighter with his free arm, Cetari brawn gradually stilling Piawro resistance. The clinch lasted several long minutes until his opponent quit struggling, absurdly drowning, not in seawater, but his own blood.
Disentangling himself from the flaccid Landhopper, Lasbow watched the corpse float away, taking his morality with it. Killing a sentient being was a reluctant first for Castle Rock's prime defender. Fish were small-brained fillets-on-the-fin, slaughtered humanely and without compunction for food. Slaying a cognisant creature, even a characterless baddie, repulsed the captain no end. But there was more to his guilt than simple regret. What shamed Lasbow more was the unsettling delight he experienced committing the deed. He felt utter exhilaration murdering the hapless frogman.
Whose Piawro associates met similar fates, falling victim to bone spears and knives. Outnumbered five to one, the outcome was predictable. Lasbow admired King Cerdic heroically swinging his double-sided slasher back and forth in devastatingly wide arcs, his brawn amply powering the flat-edged swordfish bill through the denser water. Not as nippy as a thrusting trident, the Merking nevertheless gashed a couple of the slower Landhoppers about the arms and legs with his scything blade. Largely superficial, the flesh wounds distracted the recipients enough to lower their guards, allowing the circling Fishers to jab viciously with their undersea pitchforks.
Suffering their inescapable demise, the amphibs rapidly joined the other flotsam from the upturned canoes; paddles, strands of rope fibre, bundles of food wrapped up in banana leaves, all drifting inanimately with the current.
But exceptions always exist.
Lasbow marked him before extracting his buried knife and using it to cut free his trident from the gutted canoeist. Watching the manoeuvring Piawro closely, he saw past the inelegant frog-kick locomotion the Landhoppers classically swam with, centring on his foe's handling of the black-tipped spear, expertly thrust while fending off the encircling Seaguards tightening their formation. No defenceless pushover, this was a trained warrior determined to go down fighting. Lasbow puzzled over the greyish tinge to the survivor's mottled hide, unaware that when a true Shurpeha's blood boiled with battle his skin greyed in response.
Speculating the Landhoppers might possess their equivalent of the Cetari honour guard, Lasbow nearly missed the trapped Piawro's attempted breakout. Whirling desperately, the enemy fluidly lanced an unprepared merman in the pelvis before seeking to create a gap through which to flee by spearing the struck Seaguardian's offsider as well, dealing him a disabling prod to the tail. Even as their king mercilessly stipulated, “Prisoners are not to be taken!” the mermen closed ranks and trounced the damned Shurpeha under an onslaught of tridents.
Grinning crazily and boyishly waving his sword about, Cerdic swam over to his guard commander. “A resounding victory, eh Captain? Might and right win out every time! They go together like fish and eggs, and taste just as sweet."
Lasbow agreed with an obedient nod, returning his shark tooth knife to his belt cord. Whilst incurring no losses, two Cetari nevertheless were seriously wounded by that singularly defiant Landhopper. Warring was not without its consequences.
"I feel like a young sprat gain,” Cerdic jubilantly declared. “Revenge is a fish best not served old. Deliver justice swift and harsh, Lasbow, when anger heats your heart and you can't ever go wrong."
His attention wandering, Lasbow silently commended a pair of his mermen as they gathered up, unasked, the Piawro spear and net for closer inspection. Understanding your enemy was vital to defeating him. “How great are the odds of us swimming across a couple of Landhopper pods, just when we're looking for some payback?” he put to Cerdic.
"Nupterus smiled on us today. That's all there is to it,” said the uncaring Merking, halting his waving sword. He had exacted a toll for the murder of his beloved stepdaughter. The mechanics of the retribution hardly mattered.
Except to Lasbow. “The Landhoppers were clearly on a fishing expedition,” he mused aloud. “But for what?"
"Turtles ... tuna? Who cares,” Cerdic said, shrugging off Lasbow's concern.
"A web is not required to snare those. What if they were purposely hunting us, seeking a live capture for further sport?"
Cerdic's happy face melted away as he considered his captain's inference. “So the Landhoppers plainly mean to do more harm. Steps must be taken to ensure they do not get the jump on us."
"Precisely, Sire,” Lasbow clicked animatedly. “I've had thoughts on how best to tighten up Castle Rock defences. For starters, Fisher patrols can be extended out to beyond—"
"You're an old fish head on young shoulders. Pity."
His train of thought interrupted, Lasbow whistled puzzlingly, “Sire?"
"You think regressively, Captain. My brother too was a staid thinker. That was his downfall.” Studying his blooded blade, Cerdic marvelled at the basic lethality infusing the flattened swordfish bill. A natural weapon uncomplicated by overanalysing, it did the job simply and well. Often the unfussy approach to a problem proved the most effective. “The Cetari will not cower in a reef crevice like a fearful eel. The best way of protecting Castle Rock is to attack Lunder Atoll directly."
Lasbow could not believe his earholes. The Merking had lost all sensibility! “You want to invade the land?” he queried in a stream of sceptical clicks.
Cerdic laughed scornfully. “Don't be absurd! We can no more swim out of water than flying fish soar to the Mother-of-All-Fish-Eggs lighting the black ocean overhead when night climbs.” To the Cetari darkness never fell but rose out of the unlit depths, spreading its inky gloom from seafloor to sky ceiling. That was when untold celestial fish eggs subtly illuminated the ebony heavens with their sparkling brilliance, shepherded by the parenting moon blazing whitely from an airy ocean.
Cerdic continued. “The sea feeds the merfolk. It floats to reason she feeds also the Landhoppers. Why else do they venture across the Roof of the Underseaworld on their floating wood-bones but to plunder her fish? We'll blockade the Landhopper dry-reef and make them come to us. Starve or swim; the choice of death is theirs."
"Sire, we haven't the warriors to match the enemy spear for spear."
Shaking a clenched fist in Lasbow's face, his biceps rippling with demonstrable muscle, the Merking seethed. “Strength is power, Captain. Indeed, we outnumbered our foes this day, but the Cetari prevailed because our body and mindset is infinitely stronger. Landhoppers are as spineless as jellyfish. I will extract my full vengeance and see every last one of them made a corpse which sinks to the seabed and rots into crab pickings."
Looking about at the carnage, the wallowing amphib carcasses leaking redness into the salty blue, Lasbow read the scene correctly. “This was a dress rehearsal."
"A prelude to the main event,” affirmed Cerdic. “Can't expect to successfully harpoon a granddaddy grouper using an untested trident.” Enfolding the accompanying Fishers with a gesturing sweep of his sword, he attested, “These mermen are now seasoned Landhopper exterminators. Have them train up their fellow Seaguardians into a force to be reckoned with that'll lure out the Landhopper Frog Prin
ce. He can't hide up out on waterless coral forever. I will meet him in personal combat and carve Lorea's name into his flesh before feeding him to the fishes."
Uncomfortable with that notion, Lasbow used a more plausible excuse to mask his unease. “Speaking of which, King Cerdic, there's enough frog blood in the water hereabouts to attract half of Pah Ocean's reef sharks. I respectfully urge that we depart the area and swim for home."
"Yes, yes. The sooner the Fishers are turned into a school of killers, the quicker Desolation Reef can be made complete. I want that atoll utterly bereft of life, from bottom to top.” Farflung dreaminess softened Cerdic's manic face. “This'll be a story to enthral merchildren for generations, how we fought the Landhoppers tooth and tail in their own waters and vanquished them. Picture it, Lasbow ... the greatest battle in fishtory!"
Chapter Eight
Undersea was anything but a silent world. Daybreak was moments away, Bounty Reef abuzz from the myriad burbles made by vocalising fish. Reconciled to losing a good night's sleep, Durgay continued dissecting the background racket which increased in volume and complexity from sunset onwards, reaching its crescendo near the midnight hour before lowering to a tolerable muted roar until the louder dawn chorus kicked in.
Cruising as close to the unbarred entrance of his cell as he dared, in case he made his jailers unnecessarily jumpy, the sleepless Fisher registered the grouped sounds that were collectively rowdier than a clamorous city street. Identifying the noisemakers was easy even for a haggardly tired merman. Seahorses pranced with merry clicks, keeping time with the rasping of parrotfish nibbling their coral snack bar. Overlaying those quieter cracklings were the drumming and croaking seatrout playing as backing singers to the popping and chirping damselfish, themselves vying with whistling toadfish. Durgay further detected the lower pitched booms of resonant toadfish intermingling with the grumbles of grunting squirrelfish. All in all it was a disharmonious symphony of competing fish calls grating against his frazzled nerves.
Unsurprisingly, Durgay's simmering irritation at having his slumber disturbed by the constant din grew into downright detestability for the enlivening fishes that invigorated the reef. Sound broadcast life, which explained the oldster's resentful silence; his own life forfeited by the Merking and, by his reckoning, rightly so. Durgay brooded on his deserving death for allowing Lorea's heinous murder. If only he acted to prevent their capture, fought back to at least ensure her demise was swifter, merciful...
"Feel like a chat?” Lasbow floated unarmed in the entryway, all youth and vitality. Despite his fatalism, Durgay envied him.
"I'm not the best company,” he clicked tiredly, retreating into the despairing blackness of his cell. They say a person's décor directly reflects their temperament.
"The topic for discussion is hardly inspiring,” Lasbow returned, entering his mentor's confinement. “Cerdic plans to besiege Lunder Atoll."
Durgay glanced concernedly at the open doorway, startled by the emptiness his worrying eyes saw.
"I've ordered the guards to take a break. We're able to talk freely,” Lasbow said encouragingly. “Do me a favour and don't try to do a bunk. I haven't the heart to stop you and your absconding will put a crimp in my plans for promotion."
Managing a faint smile, Durgay chided, “Romancing the younger daughter now, Captain. That's shameless of you. How goes dating Princess Ahlegra? Details of the current court gossip is understandably hard to come by when one's left in the dark."
"It's nothing that crass, Durg. I'm merely looking out for Minoh's angelfish."
"Is that sincerity I hear in your clicks, Las? Not so long ago you used to be shallower."
Lasbow pulled closer to his mentor. “I'm the captain of the Seaguard doing his job. Unfortunately, that's soon to encompass campaigning against the Landhoppers. For that, I need insider info."
"From me?” Durgay's surprised tone announced his unwillingness to assist. “I'm a dead merman swimming. Go find someone else's brain to pick."
"There isn't another. You are it. Only you've been ashore and survived the ordeal. You alone can make an educated guess at the odds facing us."
"Why should the condemned help out his punishers?"
"Playing the martyr doesn't suit you, Fisher Durgay. I know where your loyalties lie. They're the exact virtues you drummed into me: honour and duty. You aren't capable of turning your back on Castle Rock any more than I can disobey the Merking. Do you want me to paraphrase your earlier reminder to support Cerdic no matter what?"
"That only applies to citizens, not criminals."
"Recite the Seaguard oath."
"What?"
"Indulge me."
Many years had passed since Durgay's initiation ceremony, yet he declaimed his pledge of allegiance word for word. “Solemnly swear do we all, to defend the reef else it falls. Protect kith and king with bony might, surrender never Cetari rights. Seas freeze cold or run high, guardians are we until I die."
"You aren't dead yet, Durg."
"Lasbow, you do fight dirty.” His gill flaps pumping decisively, Durgay requested an update on events. “Since I'm living on borrowed time, give me the shortened version."
"Executing you is the last thing on Cerdic's mind, for the moment. After scuttling a few Landhopper seafarers, the Merking is obsessed with scuppering the rest. His scheme for bringing that about is to block the frogs” access to Pah Ocean. When they get hungry enough to force the issue, we wallop them into oblivion."
"The theory is sound,” admitted Durgay.
"Except?"
"It'll be like trying to halt the tides. Having seen the amassed Landhoppers firsthand, we don't have a chance in shell of stopping them, even if they're in a weakened state. The grains of sand lining the seafloor pale into insignificance compared to that multitude."
Lasbow had already concluded that. Such a sober realisation did not preclude him from earlier dispatching scouts to reconnoitre the undersea approaches to Lunder Atoll. Cerdic meant to have his war, even at the cost of his merpeople. “Maybe the underdogfish will win the final round too,” he forlornly hoped aloud.
Durgay's cynicism deepened. “Don't bank on it."
Playfully punching his mentor's shoulder, Lasbow shored up his sagging braveness. “Never surrender, eh boss shark."
"You haven't called me that since accepting your captaincy."
"We all grow up; then grow old. I owe you more than I can ever repay. If only I could help you out of this predicament."
Clasping Lasbow's arm, Durgay whistled in gratitude, “You already have, by jogging my memory. Obligation landed me in this mess and that same sense of duty will see me through to the bitter end. I won't forget it."
"That's poor comfort.” An imaginary light-fish winked over Lasbow's head, gifting him with an oyster of an idea. “I'd better be pushing off,” he abruptly said.
"You are a busy merman,” conceded Durgay, giving his friend's wrist a parting squeeze. “Will you attend, you know, when the time comes...?"
"As sad as it'll be, I'm there in an official capacity, Durg. At least you'll be guaranteed a burial at sea."
With Lasbow's irrepressibility warming the cockles of his glum heart, Durgay asked the departing captain, “Las, would you have truly done nothing to stop me swimming out of here?"
"Could you have taken advantage of our friendship in that way?"
"Not really."
"That's my answer too."
* * * *
Later that day a surprise visited Durgay. He was lazily scratching his midriff when in waltzed Lasbow, closely followed by a strapping Seaguard manhandling an uncooperative prisoner.
"That's a girl!"
"Very observant, Durg, especially in such poor lighting,” applauded the captain. Sunlight at this depth diffused ethereally, the feeble radiance stopped on the threshold of the dungeon grotto by the immobilising murk. Denied the creature comforts of even a basic light-fish, the perpetual darkness glooming their internment supposedly
encouraged prisoners to meditate upon their wrongdoings. “Meet your roomie."
Indignation engorged Durgay's blues. “This is a private cell,” he insisted. “I don't want a merwoman put in with me."
"Learn to share,” Lasbow ordered him. Directing the guard to where he should deposit his burden at the dimmer back of the cave, he loosened the seagrass bonds binding the inmate's wrists, apologising as he untied. “Believe me, I'm sorrier than you for chucking your tail into jail last night. What you did was foolish, but gutsy.” Waggling a rebuking finger before her defiant eyes quieted the feisty mergirl. “Behave nonetheless, Najoli,” he warned her, undoing the remaining cords, “or you'll find yourself back in solitary faster than a speeding mullet. Durgay's shy around the fairer sex, but he's the nicest guy once he lets his guard down."
Whistling confidentially to the elder Fisher behind the palm of his raised hand, Lasbow hid a grin from earhole to earhole. “Treat this as a date. And no, you can't afford to be picky. Prisoners, like beggars, can't be choosy. She's a legitimate convict who I thought might provide a measure of company. If the two of you hit it off, you may even get lucky.” His elbow nudged Durgay's ribs. “Wouldn't want my best mate to die a virgin."
Ushering his chuckling Seaguardian out of the grotto ahead of him, the matchmaking merman parted saying, “I'll let you kids get to know one another. Shouldn't be too difficult. Neither of you have anyplace to go."
Folding his arms in a wasted gesture of crossness, Durgay made the effort. “So what's your story?” he grudgingly asked the shadowy figure.
"Same as you, old fella,” replied the mergirl. Casting an unappreciative eye over her blackened lodgings, she gave her cellmate the same skimming glance. “Doing time for the crime."
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