The Crystal Seas

Chapter NINE

The messenger swam in through the hole in the ceiling. The Lady Alanyra rose from her chair and looked at him.

«Well?»

«The Air-Gulpers still continue to advance. They destroy or kill all in their path.»

«That is their way. We cannot hope to change it in this one battle.»

The messenger looked bewildered. «Noble Lady?»

Alanyra shrugged. «Never mind. Have their raiding parties showed any signs of uniting yet?»

«No.»

«Then we will not move out yet. The whole force of our Clan is not to be wasted on one or two parties of the Air-Gulpers. We will wait until we can net five hundred or more at a time, like a great school of the lyknon. And the Stranger will be among them. Yes, the Stranger will be among them.» There was a note of passionate belief in her voice as she said that. The messenger looked at her, still bewildered. She noticed his expression and her mouth curved in a smile. «Go to the steward and ask him to give you food and drink before you return to the battle. You look weary.»

«Noble Lady.» The messenger bent his body double, then straightened and darted out through the hole.

Alanyra stretched her superb body, testing each muscle. Good. She would be as strong and fast in the battle that was coming as she had ever been. Not only her Clan but she herself would emerge with honor from this battle.

She looked at the great wall map of woven byssus fiber that rippled gently on the wall and noticed that the Clan's Orderer of Battles was also looking at the map. She turned to the grizzled old warrior and smiled again.

«You think I am putting too much hope in the Stranger, Oknyr?»

No expression showed in Oknyr's scarred face or his one pale golden eye as he replied. But his voice had the precision and coolness Alanyra knew concealed doubt or disapproval.

«I must wonder, considering that you have seen him only twice. And what have you seen in him? A mighty warrior, to be sure. His fight against the yulon was like something from the Epic of Chyr. But is it certain that he is anything unusual? Is it even possible that there can be such as the Stranger you dream of?»

She sighed. «I admit I wish I could be more certain. But I cannot live without the hope that a Stranger will come to our people, to help us bring peace to the crystal seas.»

«That is the attitude of a child, Alanyra,» said Oknyr. But his smile took the sting out of those words.

«I know,» said Alanyra. «But in some ways I am still the child you taught to use weapons and swim with the warstrokes. I think you see that and know it, and that is why you continue to serve me. And because you serve me, I today rule the Clan Gnyr in succession to my brother, the only woman among all the Sea Masters to rule a High Clan.»

«That is so,» said Oknyr. «But-«

He was interrupted as another messenger darted in through the hole and doubled up. «Noble Lady, Honored Warrior-the enemy's raiders are beginning to assemble.»

Nezdorn's party of raiders was no longer almost alone in the crystal seas. To their right and left moved other companies. Above, the surface was broken by the keel and churning oars of a boat. Blade knew the boat would be loaded with firepots and heavy bows for the battle that must be coming soon. The Talgaran raiders were drawing together into a force that could sweep aside any sentry posts or casual patrols. They could drive deeply into the reefs and undersea valleys where the Fishmen had their homes and workshops. Sooner or later the Fishmen would have to come out in force-and fight.

A dull thud reached Blade's ears through the water. Another firepot going off-in what? Sentry post, home, fish pen? Blade didn't know. He only knew that those explosions had been thudding through the water for the past hour as the raiders swam on, deeper into enemy waters. The Talgarans were leaving an undersea trail of destruction as they moved on.

If the Fishmen were choosing not to fight for the moment, there were still plenty of them about. Almost any time he looked up, Blade had seen faint pale shapes darting along in the distance. The scouts stayed out of range and almost out of sight. They could neither be attacked nor driven away. They were always there, silent, swift-moving, ghostlike in the distance. Gradually their never-ending watch over the advance of the Talgarans began to have its effect. The arrogant confidence that had filled Nezdorn's company after the brush with the sentries began to evaporate. Dour and grim looks began to appear again.

No one said it out loud, but the captain said it quietly to Blade as they swam for a moment close together. «I don't like this watch they're keeping on us. It could be that's all they can do, and they're simply trying to warn their own people to get out. But I doubt it.»

Blade didn't need convincing. His suspicions that the Fishmen were laying an elaborate trap were fast deepening. More and more, Stipors' passion for an all-out attack on the Fishmen began to seem like suicidal folly.

«They are still coming on,» said Okynr. He was looking at the map again. It showed a line of red-headed pins stretching almost from one corner to the other. Two of Oknyr's apprentices were busily moving the pins about. In the center of the red line a single gold-headed pin shone out. Alanyra's golden eyes were fixed on it as though it were drawing her gaze by some irresistible force.

«And the Stranger comes with them,» she said quietly. «I knew he would. Such a warrior would come.»

«If he is what you hope he will be,» said the Orderer soberly. «Is there any reason except your own desires why he should be that?»

«Yes,» said Alanyra. «There is the need of both the Sea Masters and the Sea Cities for peace, a need that few on either side recognize. If this man is indeed from some unknown land, he may see with clearer eyes than most of us. He may see as I do, and aid me.»

«He may also be a brainless, heavy-handed killer, like so many of Stipors' men,» said Oknyr wearily. «He travels with the Conciliar Guard, and it has long been Stipors' policy to have such about him.»

Alanyra shrugged. Her full breasts swayed under the light robe she wore in her chambers. The Apprentices found it hard to keep their eyes on the map. «If he is such, the Truth-Finder drug will reveal him, as it revealed the others I thought were Strangers. But the prophecy remains-that the Goddess in the Foam would one day recognize our need and send us this Stranger. You cannot deny this, Oknyr?»

«No, I cannot and will not,» said Oknyr, wearily. «But if he does not come soon, none of the Goddess's people will be left to be aided.»

«Indeed,» said Alanyra. «But I think it is time our Clan's warriors were moving out. Go give the orders. I shall retire to my chambers, to meditate and garb myself for war.»

«It shall be done, Lady.»

«And be sure that all understand it clearly. The fair-skinned man among the Conciliar Guards is to be taken alive, at all costs.»

«I will do my best.»

Alanyra rested a long-fingered hand on the Orderer's shoulder. «You always do, Oknyr. May the Goddess be with you today, as she has been in the past.»

The crystal seas ahead now showed more than the darting figures of the Fishman scouts. More solid clusters of the enemy were approaching. They still stayed well out of range of the Talgaran archers, but they did stay in sight, gliding along ahead of the raiders.

Occasionally the scout boat above would get a clear shot. Arrows from the huge bows mounted in its bow would flash down in silver flurries of bubbles. But they seldom hit anything. The Fishmen would scatter for a moment, then reform. And each time they re-formed, it seemed that there were more of them. Before half an hour had gone by, Blade could see more than a hundred of the enemy continuously in sight.

The feeling that the Fishmen were playing with the raiders grew stronger in Blade. It was a cat-and-mouse game with a vengeance. And it was not improved for Blade by the knowledge that he was among the mice.

Nezdorn's hands went into action. Then his fins moved faster, and he swam out in front of the company. From right and left the archers glided in to join him. More hand signals, and a dozen warriors from the canter of the line also swam out to join the captain.

Blade was among those dozen. To his right and left he could see each company in the Talgaran line doing the same as his. These little vanguards would serve to prevent the Fishmen from breaking the main line with a sudden attack. Perhaps they might also pick off an odd enemy or two who wandered within bowshot.

It was becoming a nightmare, in any case-the endless slow swim through the crystal seas in pursuit of an endlessly retreating enemy. Blade saw growing strain and tension in the face of every man in the vanguard around him, from the captain on down. In his mind, conviction was growing, the enemy's trap would be sprung soon. The raiders were getting too far into the home territory of the Fishmen. If they were not stopped soon, they would do more damage than the Fishmen could possibly afford. It would be soon.

A bright flash cut through the blue-greenness off to the right rear. Blade began counting. A heavy pressure squeezed at his eardrums for a moment. That must have been a bigger firepot than usual, going off a good mile away. Blade found that his neck muscles were getting cramped. He wiggled his head from side to side, then looked down.

Looking down at that moment saved his life. He caught the flash of metal from the bottom fifty feet below, then twisted around in the water to offer the smallest target he could. As he did, a volley of arrows soared up through the water into the vanguard of Nezdorn's company. One took Nezdorn himself in the stomach. It tore through him and came out through his back, the soft metal head mushrooming as it did so, gouging out a mass of flesh and bone.

The captain screamed without shame or restraint, letting out all his agony along with all his breath, in a long raw gushing of bubbles and sound. He writhed wildly in the water, trying to clasp his hands over his blood-gushing stomach. His body arched into a bow, and his set mouth and clenched teeth forced out words that Blade could just barely catch.

«Ambush-Stipors's a fool. Wanted us-do-somethinnnnng!» The last word was half screamed out, then Nezdorn's body arched still further. Blade heard the unmistakable crrrrack of the spine snapping, then the captain's body was drifting down aimlessly toward the bottom.

So was a good half of the vanguard, most dead but some only dying. Blade realized from their contorted faces that the Fishmen arrows must be poisonous as well, to kill so fast. He also realized that the only hope was to dive down and attack the concealed Fishmen archers in their own holes. To stay up here was to become a target.

Waving his arms in the «Follow me» signal, Blade dove toward the bottom, drawing one sword as he did so. Looking behind him, he saw the rest of the vanguard hesitate for a moment, then follow him down. Beyond them, he could see the Fishmen clustering in front of the raiders. Now they were beginning to move in, streaking through the water to the attack.

The battle was joined.