Lynn Abbey - Realms of the Deep

Shalara glided up to him again, and murmured into his chest some words only he could hear: "Let it be the first of many of mine you ruin, lord of my heart," before whirling away from him.

It was about that time that Brandor became aware that the movement he'd been noticing out of the corner of his eye was a broad and knowing smile growing across the Tyrant's face.

Brandor*s face flamed, and he looked down quickly. Then he bent, fished around in the gore at his feet, and came up with something that was small and bloody, but unmistakably a weapon.

"Hold hard!" said the Tyrant in alarm, stepping back. "What's that for?"

"The drudge duty of potato peeling," Brandor replied in a voice that quavered only a little. He waved with his knife at the mound of potatoes. "The true value of a warrior, sir."

A slow smile grew on, the Tyrant's face. "Really?" he replied, "and here I thought it was doing guard duty… snoring at posts."

Shalara's high, tinkling laughter rose over the chorus of deep warriors' chuckles. Brandor, who was busily turning all shades of red as the Tyrant dealt him a friendly slap on the back, thought it was the most glorious sound he'd ever heard.

17 Kythorn, the Year of the Gauntlet

Resplendent in his burnished plate armor, jaunty scarlet plume, and matching cape, Sir Hylas rode his roan destrier down the white sand beach. A dozen militiamen and I, their sergeant, trudged along after our new commander, each of us carrying one of the pickaxes we'd borrowed from the quarrymen. The young knight had sneered when he saw them, but we'd found them more useful than short swords against our current foe.

Gray on this overcast morning, the surf murmured, filling the air with the smells of seaweed and saltwater. Granite cliffs towered on our left, and, dead ahead, a colossal mass of rock extruded across the beach and into the waves.

The closer we got to the promontory, the edgier the men became. At last, Hylas reined in his steed.

"So that's it, is it," he said in his cultured baritone voice. The castle of mine enemy."

"Yes," I said, "and you can see that it would be as difficult to take as any keep built by man. We certainly couldn't seize the place with fifty men-at-arms." In reality, we were already down to forty-two. Three were dead and five more too sorely wounded to serve.

"It might be impregnable if we were fighting other humans," Hylas said, "but surely these crabmen of yours are no better than beasts."

That may not be true," I replied. "Even if it is, they're formidable beasts, and the caves are full of them."

The knight grimaced. "There has to be a way," he said, and at that moment, a crabman scuttled forth from one of the narrow fissures in the birdlime-spattered crags.

The creature was ten feet tall with an orange shell. Like all its kind, it walked on two legs, and held two sets of pincers before it, the greater above and the lesser below. The intricate mandibles comprising its mouth twitched, and its eyestalks swiveled back and forth.

Hylas grinned and couched his lance.

"No!" I cried. But Hylas was already charging, with never a thought to spare for directing his command. It fell to me to give the order the men were dreading: "Forward!"

The irony was that I'd prayed for a new officer t arrive. I'd been in charge since the crabmen killei Haeromos Dothwintyl, the previous First Captain and I was sick of it. In my nigh unto thirty years as, mercenary, I'd occasionally borne the responsibility o command before, but never under such grim circum stances.

Still, as soon as I saw Hylas, I had misgivings. It wa dusk, and I was sitting cross-legged atop a chunk o crumbling stonework, one of the few surviving trace of Port Llast's ancient walls, keeping watch. When thi knight rode out of the twilight, I was struck by hi youth and a certain hauteur in his expression.

"Sergeant Kendrack?" he asked

I slid down from my perch. "Sir."

"I'm Hylas of Elturel," he said, dismounting, "lough bachelor and a rider of Term's Fury." A company o high-born cavaliers serving the Lords' Alliance, thi riders of Term's Fury were renowned for their prowes: with lance and sword. "I've come to take command."

"Yes, sir. We've been expecting someone ever sine* we sent word of the First Captain's death." I hesitated "It's quiet this evening. A company of armed mei couldn't march into town without me hearing them."

"I came alone," he said. "I don't know how mucl news you get in this backwater." He gestured towan the low stone houses and narrow streets that made uj the village of seven hundred souls. "The sahuagin have attacked Waterdeep itself. The Alliance needs ever} warrior it can muster to defend the great cities farthei south."

"I gathered as much, since the lords pulled all theii troops out of Port Llast, leaving us militiamen to hole on by ourselves."

"I am needed in the south as well, fighting the real war, and I have leave to rejoin the Fury as soon as I solve your little problem. I intend to do so expedi-tiously. Tell me exactly what you're facing."

"Well," I told him, "a bit more than a month ago a party of sahuagin, aided by some sort of huge sea monster no one's gotten a good look at, started waylaying fishing boats and merchants ships offshore. Eventually the sahuagin disappeared, seemingly leaving the other beast to carry on alone, and we took comfort in the thought that at least folk ashore were safe from attack.

"Alas, we'd reckoned without the colony of crabmen that dwell in a cave to the south. In times past, they'd never hurt anyone, and we had no reason to expect them to throw in with the sea devils, but a couple of tendays ago they assaulted the town. We only barely nanaged to drive them back, and not before the First Captain perished in the fighting. Since then we've been fending them off as best we can." Hylas snorted. "No wonder the hamlet is still in peril. You can't simply allow the foe to attack repeatedly, then Tend' him of. You have to carry the fight to him. We'll dean out this nest you spoke of."

"With respect, Captain, that might not be as easy as you think."

Hylas frowned. "And why is that?"

"Let me show you in the morning."

The men hesitated, and I feared they weren't going to follow me. They'd come to escort their new commander-who'd scarcely even bothered to greet them-on a scouting mission, not to follow as the crabs lured him into an ambuscade. They were good lads though, and after only an acceptable hesitation the ran after me up the beach. The soft sand sucked at ou boots.

Up ahead, Hylas closed with the crabman. His lane crunched into the creature's chest. The brute fell wrenching the weapon from its attacker's steel gaunl let. Whooping, Hylas turned his war-horse and drew his sword, a curved blue blade that shimmered wit] enchantment.

Behind him, the cracks in the granite vomited crab men, who clambered down toward the sand with terrible speed. In a heartbeat, the cliff face was crawlin, with them.

I rushed one of the first to reach the ground, inter cepting it before it could attack Hylas from behind. I pivoted toward me, its serrated fighting pincer gaping. I avoided the creature's grab and swung m. pick at its midsection. The point crunched through it carapace, and the crabman fell. I dealt it another blow that split its triangular head, then peered about to se how my comrades were faring.

We militiamen had prevented the crabs from over whelming Hylas, who had just finished off another c the creatures. Smiling fiercely, guiding his destrie with his knees, he turned to ride at a third. Which is t say, he meant to stand and fight.

"Retreat!" I bellowed.

The militiamen did so hastily. Hylas shot me a glare but, recognizing the impossibility of rallying the mei now that they were in flight, he wheeled and gallopei after us. Thanks be to Tempus, we eventually left th pursuing crabmen behind.