Troy Denning - The Obsidian Oracle

Tithian gave the king’s eye to a junior officer. “Which ship is that?”

“The King’s Lady ,” he replied.

“Good,” he said, pointing at Fylo’s ugly face. “Do you see that giant?”

“The one whose head looks sort of human?”

“Yes. Keep us pointed toward him,” Tithian replied. Next, he turned to the shipfloater. “Tell the King’s Lady to hold her attacks. We’re coming alongside and may be able to save her from this bunch.”

For the next few moments, Tithian watched in grim silence as the Silt Lion bore down on its targets. The giants were approaching the King’s Lady cautiously, suspicious of the lack of resistance from the ship. Nevertheless, they were close enough to hoist their rams and charge at any moment.

“Captain Saba asks permission to defend his ship,” reported the shipfloater.

“No!” Tithian spat.

“But we’ll never get there in time,” objected the helmsman. “If they don’t resist-”

“The King’s Lady is sunk anyway!” snapped Tithian. “And I don’t want anyone killing my giant-not yet.”

Several of the ship’s officers exchanged skeptical glances, then one ventured to ask, “Why not?”

“He must be the one who set up this ambush, and I want to know why before I deal a very special punishment out to him,” the king answered. He looked back to Ictinis. “Tell Captain Saba this: when the giants hit his ship, he’ll be protected by the king of Tyr’s magic-but only if his counterattacks don’t interfere.”

The shipfloater sent the message.

A moment later, Tithian and his officers watched as Fylo and his giants crashed into the King’s Lady . Unhampered by any resistance from the ship, their charge hit with such force that it ripped the foredeck off the rest of the ship. The ballistae discharged harmlessly and the vats of Balican fire toppled, instantly creating an inferno on the decks. Trailing long tails of flame, sailors and dwarves leaped over the sides, their agonized screams falling silent as they disappeared into the dust.

A burly man stepped toward Tithian, his silt-scarf hanging loosely around his neck. His jaw was set, and his puffy cheeks were pale with the horror of what he had just witnessed. “You said you’d save them!” he gasped.

“Come now,” Tithian replied. As he spoke, he turned his palm to the deck, using his body to shield it from view as he drew the energy for a spell. “You heard me say that the King’s Lady was lost. You knew I was lying to Captain Saba when I said I would protect him.”

“When I tossed Navarch Saanakal overboard, it seems I traded a coward for a liar,” growled the first mate, stepping toward Tithian. “You said we were going to kill giants-not protect yours!”

“This fleet has already killed more giants under me than it would have under Saanakal!”

With that, he collected a pinch of dust from the gunnel and threw it into the air. He spoke his incantation, then the mate, officers, and the helmsman all dropped to the deck, their eyes closed tight behind their dust-shields. Without a steady hand on the helm, the ship veered toward the burning King’s Lady . As the bowsprit of Tithian’s schooner touched the blazing wreck, the ship’s wizard leaped off the bow. He flew a hundred yards in the direction of the island chain before a giant swatted him down.

The jib sail of the Silt Lion burst into flames, and smoke began to roll over the main deck. Sailors and catapult slaves alike cried out in alarm and looked up to see what was wrong, then the whole ship shuddered as the bow crashed into the side of the King’s Lady .

“Time to go,” Tithian said.

The king drew the energy for another spell and used his magic to levitate himself. Taking care to stay away from any giant that could bat him down, he drifted out over the stern. Behind him, the Silt Lion’s vats of Balican fire began to ignite, sending column after column of golden flame shooting into the pearly sky. Within moments, the schooner’s wreck could not be distinguished from that of the King’s Lady .

Tithian quickly identified Fylo’s distinctive form at the other end of the conflagration. The giant stood near the detached bow of the King’s Lady , the one piece of the ship that was not in flames, laughing in childish delight as he used a yardarm to knock the last few survivors off the upended hull.

Tithian drifted forward through the smoke and haze. At the same time, the king took the precaution of withdrawing a small glass rod from his satchel, but he did not fully prepare the spell that would turn it into a lightning bolt. Until he learned how Fylo had come to be a part of this ambush, and what had happened to Agis, he had no intention of killing the giant.

Tithian stopped just out of Fylo’s reach. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, yelling to make himself heard across the distance.

The giant stepped away from the wreck, raising his yardarm to swing at the king. “Traitor!”

Tithian dodged back. The huge club sank into the silt with a muffled whump , raising a curtain of pearly dust.

“Why are you attacking your friend?” the king asked, resisting the urge to cast his spell.

Fylo narrowed his eyes, gauging the distance to his target, then shrugged and turned back to the bow of the King’s Lady . “Tithian liar, not friend,” he said, using his yardarm to push a dwarf into the silt. “Agis real friend.”

“What does Agis have to do with this?” Tithian asked. He felt both relieved and angry, for the giant’s comment implied that he had released the noble and not killed him. “You promised to guard him!”

“Make promise before Agis show real Tithian to Fylo,” said the giant. “Then we go to Balic, and Agis tell Fylo about fleet going to Lybdos. He say, ‘Warn giants. Maybe they let Fylo live with them.’ ” The half-breed brought his pole down on a templar, crushing the man like a beetle. “Him right. Now Fylo can live on Lybdos-with beasthead friends.”

Tithian could not contain himself. “What makes you think anyone could tolerate a hideous moron like you?”

His eyes bugging out in anger, Fylo threw his yardarm at Tithian. The king tried to dodge, but the pole glanced off his shoulder, sending a terrible ache shooting down his arm and knocking the glass rod from his hand. He plummeted toward the sea, barely regaining control of his body in time to prevent himself from plunging into the dust. Fylo was on him instantly, grasping Tithian tightly in his massive fingers and preventing the king from reaching into his satchel for another spell component.

“Agis like Fylo!” the giant snarled. “Beastheads like Fylo!”

Tithian shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But Agis is just using you. So are the beastheads. When all this is done, they’ll send you away. Fylo will be alone, just like before.”

“No!” Despite the retort, the giant looked crestfallen.

“Yes,” Tithian insisted. “I’m the only one who could like you. Everyone else thinks you’re ugly.”

Fylo shook his head. “Tithian liar! Tithian do terrible things to his friends in Kled.”

“Did Agis tell you that?” Tithian asked, continuing his ploy. “I guess it shouldn’t surprise me. He’s been jealous of me ever since I became king. But what really hurts, Fylo, is knowing you believe him.”

The giant looked surprised. “It does?”

Tithian nodded. “More than you can know,” he said. “One has so few friends when he’s a king. I thought that you and I …” He let the sentence trail off, then lowered his eyes.

“Fylo think so too-once,” said the giant. He returned to the bow of the King’s Lady , then plucked the last templar off the upturned hull and tossed the unfortunate fellow to the wind.