Richard Byers: Queen of the Depths

“Still,” Pharom said, “we know he isn’t the only god.”

Tu’ala’keth continued as if she hadn’t heard either of them. “There is more. For the next year, once every tenday, every shalarin in As’arem and Myth Nantar will pay homage in Umberlee’s shrines and temples.”

Gaunt Ri’ola’con shook his head. His crest, which had a limp and withered look to it compared to Tu’ala’keth’s, flopped about. “We can’t tell people which god to worship.”

“The Rulers Caste can order them to do anything within reason, and this is within reason. I have not stipulated that they forsake the weak, ridiculous powers to whom they have lately pledged allegiance. They may continue praying to them if they wish. But they must give Umberlee their adoration as well.”

“This is outrageous!” Arina exploded. “How can you bargain with us when the survival of everyone and everything is at stake? Seros is your home, too!”

“So it is,” said Tu’ala’keth, “and I would grieve to see its people slaughtered and its cities laid to waste. But I have pledged my loyalty to one power, one principle, beside which nothing else matters. I serve Umberlee, and the rest of you who owe her reverence must acknowledge her as well. Or perish beneath the fangs and claws of dragons.”

“I know,” said Vualdia, tentacles squirming, “some of us are squeamish about torture. But with our survival at issue, perhaps they could put their qualms aside and agree to force this creature to help us.”

“If I ask,” said Tu’ala’keth, “Umberlee will surely take my soul into her keeping and leave you a lifeless husk to question.”

“If I tortured you,” said Morgan, “it would be to punish you for impudence, not to extract the secret of Myth Nantar’s deliverance. Because you don’t have it!” He raked his gaze over his fellow councilors. “Don’t you see? It’s a trick, a game she can’t lose. She’ll give us some meaningless blather, and if we wind up defeating the dragons, she’ll take the credit. If we lose, and anyone survives to confront her, she’ll claim it’s because we didn’t pray hard enough.”

“If you lose,” said Tu’ala’keth, “it will be because

Umberlee offered you salvation, and you spurned it.”

“If a priest of Deep Sashelas, or any proper, civilized god”Anton had a hunch that what Morgan actually meant was any patron god of the sea-elves”made that claim, I might take it seriously. But Umberlee is just a spook for human sailors to dread, because she sinks their boats and drowns them. But what influence can she exert over those of us who dwell in the sea?”

“She is the sea,” said Tu’ala’keth. “You live your life in her embrace, and at every moment, only by her sufferance. But we need not argue about her majesty. If you accept my help, its worth will prove my contention. If you refuse, perhaps you will achieve greater insight in the afterlife.”

“All right,” said Jorunhast, frowning, wisps of his hair and beard wafting in the gentle current drifting through the room. Once the Royal Wizard of Cormyr, now, in his exile, a Dukar, he was human, the only such expatriate on the council. “Let me make sure I understand. You’ll hand over whatever weapons you collected, advise us how to use them, and we’ll decide whether to employ the strategy you recommend. If we do and emerge victorious, it’s then and only then that we all need to abase ourselves at Umberlee’s altar. Is that the bargain?”

“Yes,” said Tu’ala’keth, “but I will reveal nothing until I have the oath of every member of this council.”

“You won’t get them,” Morgan said.

Pharom frowned at him. “That’s not for you to say, cousin. Not by yourself. Not before we deliberate.” He turned to Tu’ala’keth. “Would you and your companion please withdraw so we can talk among ourselves?”

Tu’ala’keth inclined her head. “As you wish.”

The merman functionary conducted them into a waiting area, where dolphins, carved in bas-relief, swam on creamy marble walls. Anton managed to wait until the servant left them in privacy, but then could contain himself no longer.

“What in the name of Baator are you doing?” he demanded.

“You heard the discussion.”

“Yes, but you didn’t warn me you were planning this… extortion. The way you explained it, you’d help your people, and afterward, they’d return to Umberlee out of gratitude.”

“Originally,” she said, “that was my intent. But I meditated on the journey back from Tan, and the goddess whispered that my simple scheme would not achieve its goal. The common run of folk are blind and heedless. You are a case in point. You are Umberlee’s knight and cannot even perceive it. In the aftermath of victory, Seros would rejoice. People might even think me a hero. But if I proclaimed the credit belonged to Umberlee, would the masses heed me? Would they flock back to her temples? I suspect not, and so I must compel them.”

“Doesn’t it matter to you that they won’t be praying out of honest devotion?”

“Aboard Teldar’s sailboat, you yourself observed that most folk pay homage to Umberlee only because they feel they must. They never have and never will comprehend her magnificence, and that is all right. She is well content with their dread.”

“So really, you’re just trying to put things back the way they used to be. All right. I see that.” He lowered his voice. “But I need to know: Are you bluffing? If the council refuses your demands, do you mean to help them anyway?”

“No.”

“Damn you!”

“You have sometimes thought me mad, and now you suspect it again. Or at least believe me devoid of feeling. But I am not. I can rejoice to behold Umberlee’s face in the burst of blood when predator seizes prey and still not desire to see my entire race slaughtered. If the council denies me, I will withhold the weapons we have found. But otherwise, I will place myself at the disposal of the new army and fight and die with the rest of the soldiers.”

He threw up his hands, a gesture that, thanks to the city’s pervasive enchantments, he could perform as quickly as if flinging his arms through thin air. “Don’t you see how perverse that is?”

“You cannot judge the will of Umberlee by mortal standards.”

“They’re the only standards I have. I don’t hear the Bitch Queen telling me what to do. I’ve explained that time and again. I’ll tell you what I can perceive. Everything in Myth Nantar is strange to me. I see a creature, and I’m not even sure if it’s a person or just a fish. I notice workers carrying tools and have no idea what they’re for. But I do recognize that this is a splendid city peopled, more or less, with honest folk. Folk as worthy of protection as my own.”

“Yes,” she said, “they are.”

“Well, consider this: I can protect them. I know where you cached the poison and the rest of the loot. I listened to that whoreson Diero explain how to use it all. Why shouldn’t go back into the council chamber and give the representatives what they want?”p›

“Do as your spirit prompts you. I will not stop you. It is no longer fitting for one of us to compel or constrain the other. We have come too far and achieved too much together.”

“Look, if you know I’d do it anyway, doesn’t it make sense for you to do it instead? Wouldn’t it be better for your standing among your people, and for your goddess’s as well?”

“Umberlee does not wish me to take that course, and in any case, I do not actually know what you will do. Perhaps you do not know yet, either.”

With a pang of annoyance, he realized she was right.

He knew he ought to do precisely as he’d threatened. Common sense allowed no other option. Yet he’d come back to Seros to help Tu’ala’keth, not betray her a second time.