Under Fallen Stars

by Mel Odom

  Hoarse, ragged cheers started up from the crowd intermittently. Laaqueel struggled to keep a smile from her face. The knot of fear still sitting sourly in her stomach made it easier.

  “I will raise up an army,” Iakhovas vowed, “an army the likes of which Serôs and the lands around it have never seen before. That army will spend its blood and that of its enemies, and the sea will run red because of it.” He turned and raked his eye over the crowd, his posture proud and erect. “For those of you who will follow me, I will lead you to greater glory than you’ve ever known. I will teach you again what it means to be a warrior, to truly be one of the Great Shark’s chosen.”

  The crowd came alive, and the cheering clicks and whistles echoed everywhere. Sahuagin picked up fist-sized rocks and slammed them together to make even more noise. The poundings punctuated the cheers.

  The smile broke through Laaqueel’s defenses and spread across her lips. She gazed across the crowd in wonderment. Surely this was a sign. No one could have walked into Vahaxtyl and claimed the city’s populace in so short a time.

  Iakhovas flung a hand back toward the princes’ table. “Warriors, blood of Sekolah’s chosen, up until now you have been robbed of the heritage to become true members of We Who Eat as the Great Shark would have wanted. These princes and others like them have held you captive here like prawns in sea elf farms.”

  Toomaaek tried to silence the crowd but failed. Laaqueel watched as the sahuagin whipped themselves into a frenzy. Fresh anger fed off the fear and confusion that had been left over by the destruction of their city. Iakhovas offered them enemies and a chance to strike back at those enemies at a time when they felt the need to do something. War came naturally to the sahuagin.

  “If you continue to follow them,” Iakhovas went on, “you’ll overpopulate these waters in time. Or you’ll curtail the population so that won’t happen, kill your young yourselves and deprive yourselves of the army you will need in the future to conquer Serôs.”

  The cheering turned thunderous, but somehow Iakhovas could speak over it even though the Vahaxtyl princes couldn’t.

  “Sekolah found the sahuagin,” Iakhovas said, “and he freed them from the shell that was their prison then. Do you think he freed you to find another prison in which to live?”

  “No!” filled the water from the throats of thousands of sahuagin.

  “We Who Eat were born free,” Iakhovas said. “Our heritage is to die free, cleaving the hearts of our enemies and gnawing the flesh from their broken bones!”

  The cheering drowned out all other sound. Toomaaek swam over the table and finned down beside Iakhovas, stirring silt with his splayed feet. The prince raised his trident in an open threat.

  Instantly, the cheering started to subside.

  Slowly, Iakhovas turned to face the Vahaxtyl prince. He stared at the warrior and waited silently. All voices from the crowd had died away when Toomaaek spoke.

  “I say you speak lies, Iakhovas of the Claarteeros Sea. Whatever brought you here, it wasn’t Sekolah. Your purpose isn’t to guide We Who Eat to a greater destiny. You seek only to make our people throw their lives away.”

  “I speak the truth,” Iakhovas replied.

  “Then pick up your weapon and defend yourself,” the sahuagin prince ordered. “I claim blood combat against any champion you care to name.”

  Iakhovas regarded the warrior. The sahuagin prince was head and shoulders taller than Iakhovas and weighed nearly half again as much. His skin was dark blue with places that looked almost black.

  Since someone of lesser rank was challenging him, Laaqueel knew according to sahuagin custom that Iakhovas could pick one of his guards to fight for him. The priestess waited tensely, knowing how Iakhovas was going to handle the situation.

  “I will stand as my own champion,” Iakhovas said, “that the truth of my words be more accurately measured.”

  “Then pick up a weapon.” Toomaaek stepped back, his great feet raking up silt in small clouds from the ocean floor.

  Iakhovas raised his hands. Bony claws fully six inches long protruded from his fingers. “The only weapon I’ll need are these.”

  “Fool!” Toomaaek snapped.

  He backed out into the center of the impromptu meeting area. Without hesitation, Iakhovas followed, gliding up a few feet above the ocean floor with the grace of an eel. He smiled.

  “I’m proud of you, Prince Toomaaek,” Iakhovas said. “You’re a fine sahuagin warrior. My only regret is that you can only die once, but it will be for the good of your people.”

  Toomaaek didn’t waste words. He became an explosion of action. Pulling his barbed net free of his hip, he expertly flung it out at Iakhovas. The net splayed out and sailed true, wrapping around its target. Toomaaek pushed the trident forward and swam after it, driving it before him.

  For a moment Laaqueel thought Iakhovas was dead. Her heart almost stopped its frantic beating. Iakhovas hooked his fingers in the net that had wrapped around him. He’d protected his single eye with one arm. Tugging fiercely, he ripped the net off him, tearing the barbed hooks from his flesh at the same time. He screamed in rage and pain.

  Toomaaek closed quickly, the trident aimed directly at Iakhovas’s heart. In motion almost too fast to be seen, Iakhovas shoved his feet against the water. He shot up, curling gracefully over his attacker as the trident tines missed him by inches. Continuing the roll through the water, Iakhovas flipped behind Toomaaek as the sahuagin prince passed. Cruelly, Iakhovas dug his claws lightly across his opponent’s neck, leaving bloody scratches. The claws also sliced through the anterior fins, freeing them from the dorsal fin.

  Blood streamed out into the water from the superficial cuts.

  Toomaaek threw out his free arm and kicked hard, finning himself into a roll of his own. He tucked forward and under, coming up with the trident again as he faced Iakhovas. The move was designed to catch an enemy from underneath, driving the trident deep into the stomach or crotch. Either would have been a debilitating wound.

  Turned as he was from his own flip through the water, Iakhovas had his back to Toomaaek. Though he didn’t see the sahuagin warrior’s move, Laaqueel knew Iakhovas must have sensed it in some fashion. As the trident sped toward his back, Iakhovas swept out a hand and pushed himself sideways in the water.

  The trident tines missed him again by inches. As Toomaaek swam by, already aware he’d missed his opponent, Iakhovas raked claws across the back of the sahuagin prince’s lower leg. The sharp edges cleaved flesh easily, drawing blood in a gust.

  Laaqueel watched Toomaaek as he tried to turn. His leg was obviously hamstrung, the foot flopping loosely as the current pushed it. Stubbornly, the sahuagin prince turned in the water again. He appeared surprised to see that Iakhovas hadn’t pursued him.

  “You’re wounded,” Iakhovas said, still floating in nearly the same spot he had been since the fight had begun. “Stop now and live to help me set your people free.”

  “No.” Toomaaek shook his head. “I’m going to kill you to show them the lies you’ve promised them.”

  Laaqueel watched the sahuagin prince. She felt certain it was obvious to the crowd that Iakhovas had deliberately stopped short of tearing Toomaaek’s head from his shoulders on the first pass. She watched Iakhovas, marveling at the strength and skill he displayed. When he’d killed Huaanton, Iakhovas had struggled in that fight. Toomaaek was even bigger than Huaanton had been, and Iakhovas was handling him easily.

  “They’re not lies,” Iakhovas told him. “There is greatness coming to We Who Eat. A rebirth. You can be part of it.”

  “No one can do what you say.” Toomaaek finned toward him again, more slowly this time because of the injured leg.

  “You have time to reconsider.” Iakhovas stood his ground, finning down a couple feet to stand in the silt. “You can heal and still fight the battle that should be yours.”

  Toomaaek adjusted his approach and sped at his opponent.

  Iakhovas ran out of time to
move, standing loosely before the sahuagin prince.

  Cheers and shouts of anger battered Laaqueel as she watched. She couldn’t believe Iakhovas was doing nothing to defend himself. He couldn’t use his magic, not without turning away the sahuagin crowd he’d won over.

  At the last moment, Iakhovas raised his hands and grabbed the approaching trident. He hooked his fingers over the tines and rocked back slightly as the impact pushed against him. He dug his feet into the ocean bed and shoved as hard as he could.

  The trident stopped no more than a finger’s width from Iakhovas’s chest, but the haft knifed through Toomaaek’s heart, spearing him. Blood clouded the water. Triumphantly, Iakhovas lifted the quivering corpse on the end of the trident above his head. He gazed at the princes’ table in open challenge. “Is there anyone else who wishes to dispute my words?”

  None of the princes answered.

  “Then, by the power of blood and combat,” Iakhovas said, “I declare myself Deliverer of We Who Eat of Serôs.”

  Sporadic cheering came from the crowd at first, then grew in intensity until it filled the area. Laaqueel was surprised when Iakhovas simply didn’t declare himself king. The malenti knew he could have and also knew that no one there would have challenged him for that right after seeing what he’d done to Toomaaek. The decision seemed to shock the four remaining princes as well.

  When the cheering died down a little, Iakhovas swam up, pushing the corpse at the end of the trident above him. “I will deliver you from this captivity,” he shouted. “I will find you allies to fight your most hated enemies. I will teach you and mold you into the fiercest army Serôs has ever seen.”

  The cheering started again, but somehow Iakhovas was able to speak loud enough to be heard.

  “I also promise you glory.” Iakhovas held steady in the currents, high enough in the water to be seen by everyone. “I will give you the chance to live and die as true sahuagin warriors. Blood will demand blood, but we will drink our fill of it from the skulls of our enemies.”

  Laaqueel watched Iakhovas, feeling as mesmerized as the Serôsian crowd. He’d won them over and made them his, just as he’d done with her own people. He truly was a gift from Sekolah. The Shark God had answered all her prayers from the time she’d been a little girl to this very day. She was something important to her god and her people.

  “I will break the abomination that is the Sharksbane Wall!” Iakhovas shouted. “You will be free, forever free, to run the course of Serôs.”

  Laaqueel noticed even Maartaaugh was shouting his support, caught up in the tide of what was happening to the crowd. However, T’Kalah stood in the shadows of the rubble, a dark scowl on his face. Still, she didn’t let the royal guard’s presence touch her celebratory mood. Iakhovas had triumphed, and she was part of it.

  “Born free!” Iakhovas yelled.

  The crowd took up the chant. “Born free!”

  “Die free!” Iakhovas followed.

  “Die free!”

  “I will take you from this prison that is the Alamber Sea,” Iakhovas shouted. “Together we will descend upon the sea elves and destroy them where we find them. I will see Myth Nantar, the sea elves’ most sacred city, razed and driven deep into the ocean floor before we are done!”

  “Destroy the sea elves!” someone yelled. The crowd took up the chant. “Destroy the sea elves! Raze Myth Nantar!”

  “We are born free!” Iakhovas screamed to the crowd, using both hands to wave Toomaaek’s corpse at the end of the trident haft like a banner.

  “We will die free!” the crowd screamed back at him.

  “Born free!”

  “Die free!”

  Laaqueel felt Iakhovas’s voice inside her mind. What do you think, Most Sacred One? Do we have an army?

  Yes. Laaqueel looked around at the thousands of sahuagin standing around them cheering.

  I will break Serôs, Iakhovas declared, and I will forever change the lands of the surface dwellers. No one will avoid my touch or the carnage I will have wrought. I am their destiny!

  Laaqueel knew with certainty that his statements were true. Iakhovas reached up and used his claws to shear Toomaaek into bloody gobbets. He flung the flesh chunks outward, drawing up the closest sahuagin sitting around him.

  “Come and eat, warriors. Let us take Toomaaek into battle with us. He stood for what he believed, though he believed wrongly. He can still nourish us. Meat is meat!”

  “Meat is meat!” the crowd roared back. “Born free! Die free!”

  As Laaqueel watched Iakhovas stripping the flesh from the dead sahuagin, then swimming out to feed the crowd, she knew there was no turning back. Iakhovas had raised his army.

  And the Sea of Fallen Stars would fill with blood to pay the butcher’s bill.

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