Paul Thompson - Dargonesti

From above, the struggle with the chilkit was easier to see. The monster that had dropped among the prisoners lay on its back, dead. Sharks tugged at its lifeless limbs. Harmanutis’s mount swam higher, and he saw a wedge-shaped formation of Dargonesti warriors pushing chilkit back to the wall. The blue-skinned sea elves made a startling contrast to the bold red chilkit. One by one the attackers were isolated and battered to death by Dargonesti wielding stone-headed maces.

One group of chilkit held fast, and they got behind a building block and used it to ram a phalanx of sea elves aside. Harmanutis’s dolphin mount saw this and nosed sharply down. The corporal almost lost his seat, but held on to the dorsal fin with both hands. The dolphin twisted and bore in for a ramming attack on the back of the chilkit nearest them. That was enough for Harmanutis. He let go, and the weighted belt he wore caused him to drop slowly to the seafloor.

He was on his feet promptly as he touched bottom, for to his astonishment he had seen whom the chilkit was attacking. A small knot of sea elves stood between the monster and two smaller figures. These two had airshells in their mouths.

Princess Vixa and Colonel Armantaro!

Harmanutis tried to shout a war cry, but the only result was a gurgle of bubbles past the mouthpiece of his airshell. He lost his footing and pitched down on his face.

The chilkit grabbed the shaft of a sea elf’s spear and hoisted up the unlucky fellow. The warrior held his grip for an instant too long and toppled forward, into the monster’s claws. The chilkit tossed the lacerated foe aside to face the next soldier, who used his shield to fend off the monster’s talons. Undaunted, the chilkit bored in, bowling the elf over by sheer bulk. Now, only one fighter stood between the towering chilkit and the two Qualinesti elves.

This sea elf carried no buckler, but wielded his short-handled spear in one hand, like a dueling sword. He jabbed at the chilkit’s eyes, and the creature backed off warily. The Dargonesti advanced quickly, thrusting with both hands. His opponent tried to snag the spear with its claws, but the warrior shifted his aim only slightly, deftly avoiding the claws. The needle-sharp tip of his spear pierced the chilkit through a chink in its body armor. A strangely emotionless cry broke from the monster. It gave ground. The Dargonesti shoved his weapon farther in. Talons reached for him, but found only water. The sea elf twisted hard on his spear shaft until there was a distinct crack as the spear tore into the creature’s vitals. Its arms dropped and it toppled over. The victorious fighter recovered his spear.

Harmanutis had at last fought his way through the mud and blood and reached his princess’s side. Vixa clapped him on the shoulder. Her eyes and Armantaro’s spoke eloquently. The corporal pointed to the milling mass of slaves and soldiers still fighting at the base of the wall, the last place he’d seen Vanthanoris.

The three Qualinesti started toward that spot, but before they’d taken more than two steps, Vixa’s wrist was seized. She was yanked around, and found herself face-to-face with the Dargonesti who’d single-handedly defeated the chilkit. Harmanutis charged to her defense, but the Dargonesti leveled his spear point at the corporal’s chest, bringing him up short. They could see the fierce face inside the helmet. It was none other than Coryphene.

Coryphene’s throat worked, and a loud series of clicks rang through the ocean. Soldiers and dolphins not otherwise engaged gathered around him. He gave Vixa over to four warriors, then bade the rest accompany Harmanutis and Armantaro. The Qualinesti were tempted to resist this separation, but Coryphene placed a proprietary hand on Vixa’s airshell. The two veteran warriors subsided immediately and were herded back to the other prisoners.

The battle was over. No living chilkit remained in the area. The three started back to the cave, but armed Dargonesti stopped them, sending them back toward the wall. It seemed they were to join in repairing the breach.

Though they were bursting with questions for each other, and anxious over their princess’s fate, the Qualinesti had to content themselves with working in silence. The airshells in their mouths, and the vigilance of their guards, made any type of conversation impossible.

Armantaro joined the gang that was busy fitting a heavy net around a dislodged stone block. Bladders inflated with air were used to lift the massive block to the parapet of the wall. As the colonel watched, Dargonesti in civilian dress filled the bladders from airshells heaped in a litter borne by other sea elves and closely guarded by soldiers. He counted four large bladders filled from one whelk shell.

The problem, he mused to himself, is to get several of those shells secretly. Perhaps with enough air, the Qualinesti could walk to land.

The colonel paused in his work and stared with a worried frown toward the city, where his princess had been taken. Of course, even if they had airshells, they still faced the dangers of ocean predators and the Dargonesti themselves, not to mention …

Which way was land?

Coryphene conferred with his lieutenants in their odd, clicking language. In a studied display of nonchalance, Vixa waited, leaning against an ornate pillar by the road. The battle had frightened off all the sea life around the city, except the sharks. Packs of wary dolphins cruised above, chasing predators away from the wounded and the dying.

Coryphene rapped on the road with the butt of his spear. Vixa came out of her reverie and saw him motion for her to follow him back to the city. Bone-weary, she obliged.

Large crowds greeted the victorious warriors on their return. The quays were jammed with Dargonesti of every rank, cheering the repulse of the chilkit. When Vixa and Coryphene emerged from the water, a roar went up. The Protector of Urione removed his helmet but did not acknowledge the acclaim.

Over the enthusiastic cheering, Vixa said, “Your people appear to love you.”

He pointedly took the airshell from her hands. “I am one of them,” he said simply. “And they will love me only so long as I win battles.”

He climbed the ramp. Soldiers with mismatched iron swords appeared, parting the crowd. Coryphene’s personal guard drew up for review as their commander passed by. One soldier, his armor dented from the fierce fighting, barred Vixa’s path for a moment-just long enough to put some distance between her and Coryphene. It would not do for an outsider to intrude upon the Protector’s moment of triumph. The Qualinesti princess, her borrowed cloak lost, stood shivering and dripping, while all around her the sea elves went wild.

An elderly sea elf, clad in a simple silver robe, stood at the end of the guard ranks, his bearing proud. Coryphene halted a few paces from this elderly fellow and raised one hand. Loudly, he intoned, “Greetings, Voice of Her Divine Majesty!”

The elf bowed his head slightly. Vixa was astonished at how quickly the cheering and screeching died down. One minute there were thunderous cries, the next, virtual silence.

The elderly sea elf replied in Old Elvish: “Greetings to thee, great Coryphene, terror of the enemies of Urione. Her Divine Grace desires thou to attend upon her instantly.”

“I would like to make myself more presentable, noble Kytheron.”

“As thou wishes, great Protector. Her Divine Grace desires thee to bring the maiden from the landed race as well.”

Vixa was startled, but Coryphene merely nodded.

The Protector strode away, and Vixa was forced to jog after him.

“My uncle is leader of our party,” she said. “You should send for him. I’m sure the queen would rather meet Armantaro than me.”