Realms of War

7

After the relay was set up, everything went easier. Rytagir stayed below and supervised the salvage. The sea elf warriors didn't have much experience at working shipwrecks, but they learned quickly.

The gold was taken up first. They placed the ingots in nets and swam the loads to the surface. Zahban's men stored the salvaged goods in Azure Kestrel's hold. Irdinmai stationed guards aboard ship to ensure it didn't depart unexpectedly.

Fatigue chafed Rytagir mentally and physically, but he kept himself working. Once he had the hold salvage squared away, he turned his attention to the captain's quarters.

He found the captain's log easily enough, but the papers he was looking for-the ones he'd heard about and read about in the research he'd done regarding the peace treaties-weren't there. At least, not within ready sight.

Then he started looking for secret places where documents, contraband, and the captain's personal fortune might be kept.

"Maybe those documents aren't here."

Walling away the frustration he felt, Rytagir turned to face Irdinmai. "If they're here, I'll find them," he promised.

"What's so important about those papers?"

"They'll provide a better understanding of the events that were taking place in this region three hundred years ago."

"And that's important?"

"Our histories tend to be more volatile than yours, Lady," he said. "Every time two cultures, two cities, or two nations fight, something of both is lost. If more than two are involved, even more is lost. The document I'm looking for was a peace accord. An early draft. It would be interesting to match it against the peace accord that was actually negotiated."

"Will that change anything?"

"I doubt it. But for those of us who really want the whole story and not part of one, these documents are a necessity."

"You really care more about finding this than the gold, don't you?"

"Yes. You have stories you hand down to your children, to teach them wisdom and your ways, and to teach them right from wrong."

"Of course. Every tribe does."

"Up there, few people live in tribes anymore. Many of them live in large cities."

Irdinmai bristled as if she had been insulted. "We too once lived in cities. I know what a city is."

"I meant no offense, lady. I only wanted to point out that cities are far larger than what you may be accustomed to down here. Many people-some of them from distant lands and different cultures-live in those cities. Thousands of them. As a result, our histories are not as pure as those among your people."

For a moment, sadness touched the silver eyes. "I've seen the ruins of cities that have fallen into Seros," she said. "I've wandered among the buildings. I can only imagine what it might be like to live in such a place as that."

There were tales of great cities of sea elves that had vanished on the ocean floor, but no one had ever found any truth of that. Rytagir believed in the myths more than most, but even he felt they might offer hope, but not truth.

"If ever you decide you should want to see a living city, Lady, get word to me. I'll be glad to show you around one." Rytagir didn't know what prompted him to make such an offer, hadn't even known he was going to make it until the words fell out of his mouth, and he felt foolish.

Instead, she said, "If I decide to see a city, I'll do that." Then she turned and began helping with the search of the captain's quarters. "Perhaps two of us will be more clever than one."

"Thank you," Rytagir said. He strove to wall off the barrage of questions that filled his mind about whether she would take him up on his offer, and what he would do and where they would go if she did. It didn't work. She was beautiful, and there were so many places he could have shown her.

He took a dagger from his boot and used the hilt to rap against the wooden walls and floor. The thump of metal strik shy;ing wood sounded different underwater.

But the sharp crack of smashing wood behind him drew his attention immediately. He spun, not certain what he'd heard.

Then Irdinmai called out a warning.

In the gloom barely penetrated by the lucent coral he carried, Rytagir saw a powerful figure claw through the stern windows that led to the captain's quarters. It had six limbs, and the two additional arms helped it tear through the windows.

The creature looked more fish than man. Iridescent scales covered its powerful body and gleamed under the glow of the lucent coral. Black talons curved out from its fingers. As broad as it was, it didn't look tall. But Rytagir knew from the size of the window that the creature had to be almost seven and a half feet tall.

Large, magnetic black eyes sat under a ridge of bony growth. The creature's head was hard and angular, and the jaw jutted forth. Sharp teeth filled the great, gaping mouth. Ridges carved the creature's face and gave it an inherently evil visage. Fins ran the length of the creature's arms, from its wrist nearly all the way to the shoulder.

Like the sea elves, the creature was lighter on its front than on its back. Most of the creature was teal in color, but it was uneven, stained with ragged splotches of gray and green. Great fins growing out from the sides of its head swept back to join the main dorsal fin along its back. The fins of the sahuagin of the outer sea stood out independently.

It wore a dark breechcloth of indeterminate color that hung to its first knees. The creature's legs were double-jointed, the second joint allowing the legs to bend back the other way. It carried a long club that looked like a spear. One end held a sharp-bladed point, and the other held a spiked club head. A leather harness crisscrossed its chest and held up a bag woven from underwater plants.

Rytagir had dealt with the sea devils before, each time barely escaping with his life.

"Meat," the creature shrilled in its language. It thrust the staff's blade at Irdinmai's chest.