Odyssey

CHAPTER 21

The manor was some distance from the capital, its buildings in deeper water. In the world above, the sun was just rising, the beams starting to filter to the undersea world. Turg held onto a harpoon fish's fin as the attack force surged ahead. The fish weighed thousands of pounds, its lumpy flesh rock hard under the frog's hands. The mouth gaped open and a fish fleeing before the detachment swam too close to the monster. A long tongue darted forth, spearing through its target. The pinned morsel was pulled into the mouth as the predator accelerated. Turg felt a brief burning sensation as they moved through a cloud of digestive enzymes. The harpoon fish forced the caustic liquid into its prey whenever it attacked.

The attack force closed on the target, the estate of a rich noble with ties to the air breathers of the ocean. Whales began to rise from structures on the seabed. Vast hemispheres of coral and stone held pockets of air, allowing the lord's allies to stay beneath indefinitely.

The whales began to call, the sonic pulse of their cries beating against the amphibian's skull. The whales were pale blue and almost invisible in the water. Only their motion drew the eye. The animals were several times the size of the harpoon fish, but Turg felt only contempt for them. The air breathers rose over their ally's home, preparing to meet the surprise attack. The mammals vibrated with magic to the frog's mystic senses. Power was gathering among the attackers as they raced to slay the whales, driven by the ambassador's overseeing spirit.

Magically summoned schools of barracuda surged away from the attack force. Like living projectiles, the school swept toward their warm-blooded targets. Defensive whale songs sounded, the waves of noise playing havoc among the predatory fish. Barracuda went in all directions, hopelessly confused by the air breathers' magic. Some of the toothy fish were in their death throes, their organs destroy by the powerful whale song.

Now the singers' voices swept the leading edge of the imperial attackers. Multiple whales, converge on individual harpoon fish, the rocky attackers' nerves burning out in novas of pain. A few imperial soldier, accompanying the attack tried to lead the whales astray with illusions, to no avail.

Turg let go of his fish as it finally reached an opponent.

The barbed tongue snapped into the whale's body, swelling as a prodigious load of digestive fluid surged into its victim. The air breather cried out, its call soaring beyond hearing. Several cephalids swimming past blurred, their skin rupturing and blood streaming into the water. The feeding fish drew its tongue back and slammed it again into the smooth hide. The whale expired as water filled its lungs. The harpoon fish looked for something else to kill.

The whales coalesced into groups, their cries sounding in all directions, unconcerned with killing their allies as long as the attack failed. On the outskirts of the fight, sharks began to appear, ripping apart the dead and the dying as the blood spoor drew them from miles around. The harpoon fish closed for the final battle with the air breathers, but Turg was surging ahead, leading a column of infantry now that the whales were engaged.

The frog swam forward as the fighting moved over the estate. Tritons and mermen followed him down as crab forces sprinted across the sandy bottom for the house. The defenders were like mollusks, trying to withdraw into the protection of their shell. The valves of the living structure closed, the tough armor resisting the frog's blows. He called down harpoon fish, the monsters leaving their bloody feast. Tongues lanced into the door, gallons of digestive fluids pumping into the fabric of the manor. The valve ripped free as the fish pulled. They loosed it to drift away.

Spears flew from the gap, sinking into imperial warriors who charged in too soon. The jack cast a spell, and eels swam down the hole. Their bodies were living batteries that discharged as they reached the defenders. Now Turg swam into the house. He ignored the twitching bodies of the slain. The crabs piling through the entrance began to corral the stunned. The house was dark, the defender's trying to use the lack of light to their advantage.

The frog loosed streams of light-emitting plankton that carried in the currents still moving through the house. A triton was a hulking humanoid, its finned limbs sending it around the frog as they advanced. A spindly crab joined them, as they penetrated the house.

The porpoises emerged suddenly, diving from the upper floor in ramming attacks. The frog's hands glowed, and he stabbed into his opponent. The triton's barbed fins sank into its foe, and malign energy poisoned its system. Mermen defenders thrust tridents at the engaged invaders only to be met by the crab. Though not tall, its claws snipped through weapons and amputated a hand as the crab closed. More porpoises came toward the frog, and Laquatus struck through his amphibious minion.

The counterspell attacked the magic allowing the cetaceans to stay underwater. Tissues suddenly starved for oxygen. Muscles flooded the blood stream with toxins. The defenders started to race for the surface, knowing themselves doomed but helpless against their instincts. Soldiers ignored the retreating cetaceans to fall upon the remaining defenders.

The frog and his companions moved ahead of the fighting, the inner rooms of the manor clearing as the manor guards rushed to the perimeter. A sigil spelled out in the living flesh of the wall told Turg they had reached the noble's private rooms. The crab scuttled forward, its claws making short work of the interior partition.

The quarters were almost stark in their simplicity. Only the huge number of pigeonholes and storage pillars showed the noble's wealth. The frog swam over, a spell whispering against the valves closing off the writing supplies. The container irised open, and the jack leaned over. Turg spat the seals and rings he had carried in his mouth throughout the battle. The planted objects were issued by the southern court, the queen showing on the crest instead of the emperor. The frog's spell ceased, and the container snapped shut, barring itself to one not attuned to its nature.

The crab scuttled over, several cruciform sheets of wax in its claws. Another spell provided by the ambassador's spirit whispered over the old letters, altering some of the strokes as the organic material responded to his will. The crab slipped them into the bottom of a storage column. Turg bled power as he touched the furniture. Growth accelerated, and he could taste the flow of byproducts as the living structure aged, sealing the damning letters under a layer of coral.

The green triton gave a grunt of warning, sending the trio across the room. Living cases lay stacked against the corner, the containers holding eggs and plankton of exceptional quality. The crab cut them open like lightning as the frog and triton grabbed up and devoured fistfuls of the delicacy. When the titular head of the attack force arrived seconds later, he found the group busy enjoying their loot. A snarl of disgust showed, but he dared not discipline the ambassador's jack.

The command staff arrived and began opening the sealed pigeonholes and chests in the room. A pair of soldiers came and searched through the food crates the trio had opened, their contempt plain as the triton growled and the crab clacked its claws.

"Sir," called an orderly, opening up a pigeonhole. A major swam over and inspected the contents. He tensed in excitement, diving in to examine the rings and seals Turg had planted. The sound of a struggle was heard from the hallway. A huge crab eased his way through the door, pulling a tether. A merman came through, his flukes beating to escape as he was reeled in. Another line leading out slackened as a nearly identical crustacean followed, the aristocrat suspended between the two soldiers.

"What is the meaning of this?" the prisoner roared, his muscles straining in vain against the pair of armored monsters. "You have no right to invade my home! I am a loyal servant to the emperor!" The leader swam over and struck him with one of the seals clenched in his fist, the metal edge tearing the noble's skin.

"Traitors have no rights!" the officer snarled. He gestured to the writing implements and letters being impounded. "You are in service to the southern queen and will die for your treachery. Your alliance with the air breathers always inflamed suspicions. But for the actions documented here you shall die!"

The noble went goggle-eyed with incredulity. "Lies!" he cried, surging against his tether. "It is all lies!" He looked to his luxuries stored in the back and recognized Turg. "Everything is a lie spread by his master! He planted these forgeries."

The major looked at the frog whose face was smeared with stolen booty. The officer's laughter filled the room as the frog swam closer, his face showing no signs of intelligence.

"His master is a beast and a bigot," the prisoner snarled. "So superior to those who breathe though he spent years on the land. Even his chief lackey is an amphibian." The merman twisted on the line attempting to smash the frog with his flukes.

The jack dodged the blow, and electricity surged through the champion's hands into the tail. The attack reduced the noble to a glassy eyed wreck, small globes of blood drifting from an open mouth and breaking up in the water. The major looked at the amphibian in anger but remembered whose patronage the frog enjoyed.

"We do not need his confession anyway," the attack leader groused. "We have enough to convince any that he conspired against the crown. The dungeons will soon drag the truth out of him."

He called for the incriminating evidence to be sealed for immediate transport and left his orderlies searching through the rest of the archives. Turg swam back to his cronies and enjoyed the fruits of the noble's larder.

Laquatus came out of the trance pleased with all he had seen. Riding the jack during the attack allowed him to frame the moderate aristocrat. He laughed at how close the merman's raving came to the truth. The drive to find conspiracies was producing spectacular results. Every day brought new arrests and revelations of treachery. The ambassador admired the unrelenting torturers in their efforts to gain confessions. Perhaps they even extracted the truth from someone, but the aristocrat doubted it.

The emperor, feeling more besieged than ever, granted Laquatus more and more authority to pursue his inquiries. Today's raid was the culmination of his attempts to stir up trouble, and he could not be happier with its success. Even the imperial officers started to believe the propaganda he spread. Laquatus had expected them to be much more cynical and jaded. The sprawling chaos was a work of joy.

Sometimes, he even forgot it was only a cover for his thievery. Fulla had excavated five rooms without locating Kirtar's prize. Several loads of "damaged" goods had gone to the Cabal, and Laquatus was obliged to search all of them. He found no sign of the orb and wondered if perhaps she had no plans to betray him. Finding that conclusion highly unlikely, he was careful to document her thievery through exact manifests. Minus, of course, items of power interesting enough for him to steal.

The dementia caster had no contact with the Cabal and was unlikely to complain of thefts from her own looting operation. The emperor engaged himself in touring the army and moving against signs of discontent. The real bonus from his violent flailing against conspiracy was his actions were undoubtedly creating real plots against him. The cycle of violence was increasing, and the ambassador swam at the center, still untouched. He readied himself for court, putting on his finest jewelry.

He swam through the palace corridors, the building pumping light from above to the halls. Aboshan had called a meeting of nobles to go over the reports Laquatus gave him the day before. In the name of preserving theoretical contacts with the queen's court, he was spared from attending except occasionally. The door to the throne room was closed, but the emperor's shouting bled through in a wordless howl.

The ambassador ignored it, waiting for the end of the audience. Aboshan's rants had become distressingly predictable, often ending with a wild accusation that took a noble away to be investigated. Only the identity of the prisoner changed, and Laquatus thought it best to be absent when the sacrificial lamb was selected. Danger could add spice, but maintaining a fictitious wave of conspiracies provided enough entertainment.

While the ambassador waited, he saw another merman furtively hovering down the corridor. Thinking he recognized the courtier, Laquatus swam toward him. The merman remembered the other with a start. It was Petod, a lower noble who had withdrawn to the southern court years before. He was dressed in palace livery, but Laquatus was sure of his identity.

The noble realized himself recognized and swam into a side room, gesturing for company. Laquatus cast a spell, sending an image of himself down the corridor to his quarters. He vanished into the other room as well, making sure that no one saw him. The door closed behind him as soon as he went through.

"Thank goodness I found you," said Petod in a panicked voice. The merman nervously twisted rings on his finger as he swam to check the door. "I did not know who to turn to." He reached as if to pat the ambassador's shoulder only to stop at a forbidding gaze.

"The court felt too dangerous for me to declare myself," Petod said wretchedly, seeming to collapse internally. Laquatus remembered him as weak willed. "I came as an unofficial representative from the queen. Her majesty is understandably upset at the attempt to kill her husband and wished to reassure him that she was not involved. I hope to serve as a private courier between the two monarchs."

"Llawan sent you?" Laquatus asked in disbelief. Petod was a poor choice from his memory, given to rash judgements and poor decisions. Laquatus thought her a better leader than that.

"Of course not," the self-selected emissary said. "The nobles who fled south would view such a move on her part as unacceptable. I took it upon myself to offer my services," he finished smugly.

The ambassador nodded. Petod was a fool, but he could be quite congenial in social situations. Perhaps he was familiar in the southern court. Llawan would never use a back channel because her integrity would force her to inform her allies.

"Why the disguise?" he asked.

"If I declared myself, I feared being called a spy or assassin," Petod confessed. Laquatus said nothing though sneaking into the palace under false pretense made such a fate inevitable. "I hoped to find an ally that might help me meet secretly with the emperor. I heard of your return from exile and knew you could help."

Two thoughts surged through the ambassador's mind. First, such an action was suicidal with the emperor in his current mood. Second, Aboshan's ridiculous pretense of clemency to a returned exile had indeed enabled him to contact a member of Llawan's court. He soon shook off the surprise. He could not afford any knowledge of the southern plans reaching the emperor. Already he had taken over the emperor's spies who reported from the south. The ambassador recast Llawan's actions to make her appear more hostile to the emperor. Petod must not meet Aboshan.

"I am astounded at your actions, my lord," Laquatus said, his voice filled with warm regard. "Your close knowledge of Llawan's policies and private feelings could alter the history of the seas." The ambassador clapped the young noble on the back, a jeweled ring cutting into the flesh on the shoulder.

"A thousand apologies, Petod," the merman said stripping the ring from his finger. "It is a new piece and far too clumsy on my hand. Allow me to present it to you as a token of my esteem. No, I insist." Laquatus put the ring on Petod's hand, ignoring the young mer's stumbling refusal. The ambassador exercised great caution as he placed and released the ring.

The self-appointed emissary rubbed at the puncture high on his shoulder, trying to accept the gift graciously even as his flesh went numb. Laquatus was in full court regalia and that included poison for his jewelry. The southern noble gasped, water moving fitfully through his gills. He choked and gasped as he realized himself attacked.

The ambassador decided his poison was not quite virulent enough. Too much time away from court had made his venom weak. He used his magic and called a stream of tiny jellyfish into being. The fragile cloud was hardly more substantial than the water in which it swam. He guided Petod to it, and his gills sucked the tiny bags of poison down. Toxins poured directly into his bloodstream, and Laquatus held him steady as his body locked. The torn flesh plugged the organs, and they ceased to supply oxygen. The ambassador banished the summoning as soon as he knew the courier was dead.

He swam back to the throne room, towing his dead victim behind him. He put on a burst of speed wanting to arrive with maximum effect. The valve doors were open, the assembled nobles withdrawing as fast as they dared. The ambassador swam past them as gasps of shock echoed behind him. He swam to where the emperor reclined with a cluster of officers waiting around him. Aboshan looked exhausted, his rage having consumed him during the audience. Guards surged from the walls and stopped, uncertain what threat a corpse might pose.

"Laquatus," the monarch said, looking at the dead Petod. "What is the meaning of your companion?" He waved a moray eel closer, and it snared the body hauling it away from the monarch.

"An assassin from the southern court, your imperial majesty," Laquatus said boldly. "I spotted him outside your very throne room, and when I went to investigate he attacked me."

"Look," the merman said dramatically, pointing to the corpse being pushed back by the moray ell. "Slain by the very ring he plotted to use on others in the palace. Dare I say, including your royal majesty." Aboshan gestured with a tentacle.

"Show me the ring," he commanded. The eel was perhaps too literal, and his jaws snipped Petod's hand off and brought it near. The monarch regarded the offending appendage and threw it to the side.

"Is there no end to this infamy? The rumors you reported are true! Raids on some of our greatest nobles have revealed links to our shark of a wife. Now an assassin outside our very throne room? Why do they plot against me?" he cried, no longer using the royal plural. He collapsed back into the throne, and the ambassador could feel energy pulsing back into the monarch from the palace.

"Perhaps war is the only answer," a hesitant officer said, looking for support from his fellows. "The queen's forces are not so superior. Surely a surprise attack would put an end to these conspiracies."

The emperor looked up wanly. Laquatus spoke quickly to squash the idea. Open warfare would bring the emperor's interest back to the martial devices buried beneath his palace.

"My Emperor," he stated, striving for statesmanship, "the queen and her alliances make open warfare too dangerous for you both. Her air- breathing allies and the creatures of the deep would surely come to her aid. As deadly as these conspiracies are, they represent the limits of her reach. Her assassin was incompetent. Better security inside the palace is the answer. Llawan dares not attack openly and must strike through traitors and other toils." Laquatus wanted Aboshan consumed by internal problems.

"Moreover," the ambassador continued, "open warfare would drag guards to the battle lines, weakening your security in the palace. We must root out conspiracies and make our own overtures to Llawan's allies. If we isolate her, then we can attack with impunity."

"We are so very tired," the emperor muttered, lying back as more magic whispered into his frame. "Our wife will fall, but our wrath must wait. We shall strip her of allies here and abroad." His eyes focused on Laquatus, decision swimming weakly into his gaze.

"You will consult with our officers on crushing those who plot against us," he stated. He rose and began to swim for his private quarters. "You have our warrant to do all that is necessary to guard our throne."

The officers and ambassador lowered their heads as the monarch passed.

Carte blanche! Laquatus exulted. Current and former rivals for power in the court would sink very soon, the ambassador promised himself. Still, perhaps he should begin reducing the perceived threat lest the emperor strike out in panic against his wife. War would reduce his ability to control the situation and give too much power to the generals.

Laquatus looked at the attentive faces surrounding him and knew hatred and envy must fill their hearts. He had displaced many on his rise to power, and now his enemies grew daily in number. If only Fulla would find the orb. With such an item of power, he might stop serving others' will and fully satisfy his own desires. He drew the officers to him, wondering how much longer he must reign himself in.