Chapter 31
The Isle of Pearls
Sea of Triton, Near Inoon
Barekat, Captain of the Guard, knelt before the throne. Despite her rank, she was no great warrior. She was skilled enough with a spear to earn a place among the King's Bodyguard, but she merely succeeded her father as Captain. It was not truly through her own merit and that was never clearer than this day.
"Your Majesty, we are sorely outmatched," she told the King. "The men of Baalzabul outnumber us two-to-one. We have caved in the tunnel to the Traders' Grotto, but that will not hold them for long. We have lost the First Regiment and the Second will not be able to stop them when they dig their way through."
"Will not the tide deal with the enemy?" the King asked.
"We do not believe they will need so much time to dig their way out," Barekat replied. "We have an hour, two at best."
The King sighed.
"Then the day has come at last. Very well. Gather the people. All who have received Lord Dagon's blessing will go to the Temple Grotto. We shall take refuge in the depths."
"And what of those who did not receive Lord Dagon's blessing, Your Majesty?" Barekat asked. "There are many who did not attend worship that day, the old, the very young, those who were serving in other duties."
"It cannot be helped," the King said. "They must meet their doom in the manner of their choosing."
"But, Your Majesty, this will rend families asunder. Even those who have received the Lord Dagon's blessing will not abandon their kin."
"That is their choice," the King said. "All who would live will come to the Temple Grotto."
It was bitter to hear, but what could she say against it? Barekat simply lowered her head and said, "It shall be done, Your Majesty."
The King rose from his throne and said, "Make haste, Captain. We do not have much time."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
* * *
"Come on! Put your backs into it!" Captain Tyrus shouted at the men clearing the rocks. "Unless you want a watery grave, you'll work faster!"
"My lord Captain, should we not withdraw to the ships before the tide comes in?" Sir Tubaal asked.
"Tell the captains to sail out of the grotto and return when the tide goes back out," Captain Tyrus replied.
"But, my lord, what of the men?"
Captain Tyrus looked at the tide pool where the ships were moored and stroked his chin, saying, "By my estimate, they have about four hours to clear that rubble if they don't want to get smashed to bits on the rocks or drown. Perhaps that will motivate them." He then added, "And don't think we're going anywhere."
"My lord, you cannot possibly—!"
"If the men can't find the necessary motivation within themselves, perhaps you and the rest of the leadership can help... inspire them."
"My lord, if the fear of certain death is not enough, what more could we possibly do?"
"I'll leave it to you to be creative."
Sir Tubaal's hand crept to the hilt of his sword. This did not escape the notice of Captain Tyrus.
"You want to try it, my friend?" the Captain asked. "You're welcome to it. Assuming you could best me, which I wouldn't count on, you'll have to worry about all the terrible things my dear Sidonia will do to you when you get back. She's not nearly so kind as I am and she's in a rather foul mood about being left to mind the house while we're away.
"Maybe you think you can play the coward and send my lovely to join me, but then you'd still be left to deal with the Queen's displeasure. Good luck coming up with some trickery to get out of that one."
Sir Tubaal pulled his hand away, muttering, "You, ah, you misunderstand me, my lord. A mere unwitting move. That's all."
"Mind what you wit, my friend," Captain Tyrus replied, "and mind what you don't double."
"Ye-yes... Yes, of course, my lord."
Satisfied that the jittery knight had been put in his place, Captain Tyrus turned his attention back to the men's efforts to clear the tunnel. Unlike Sir Tubaal, the Captain was not worried. He would get the results he needed. He always did.
* * *
Within the labyrinthine caverns running all throughout the island of Inoon, a lone footsoldier of Hannibal could be seen. He did not walk as one wandering lost, nor did he show any signs of a fretful coward fleeing the battle. He walked with purpose like he knew where he was going and his steps were sure, like the path was not unfamiliar to him.
There was the sound of an owl hooting. It was most curious as no owl would be in these caverns. The footsoldier did not seem surprised, though, and responded by making a different bird call. An Inooni man then stepped out of a natural alcove in the cavern wall.
"Since when do you need a torch to find your way in these caves, Malgo?" the Inooni asked.
"Ay wanted ye te sees me comin', Balbi," the footsoldier replied. "Ay knows how scaredy ye kin get down here in the dark."
"We ain't kids no more, Malgo," the Inooni said. "'Sides, there's worse things to be 'feared of than the dark, like the company you keep these days."
The footsoldier spat on the ground.
"Yam take the lot of 'em. Ye gots it?"
The Inooni pulled out a small bundle wrapped in seal leather from under his tunic, saying, "Right here."
The footsoldier set down his torch and opened the bundle to peek inside. To the untrained eye, it appeared to be a string of pearls like any other, but the footsoldier held it with a special reverence before covering it back up and tucking the bundle away.
"You be sure that gets where it needs to go," the Inooni said.
"Ah'll do me part," the footsoldier replied. "What 'bout ye? What're ye goin' te do now?"
"I'm going to head for the Temple Grotto, try to get out."
"'Get out'? How's ye goin' te do that?"
"Oh, right. You wouldn't know about that. A few days back, the King sacrificed Princess Saraia to Lord Dagon to receive his blessing. Those of us who were there at the grotto shared the blessing. We become as fish when we enter the waters. The depths will be our sanctuary."
"What 'bout those that wasn't at the grotto?" the footsoldier asked.
The Inooni was silent for a moment.
"It can't be helped," he said with a sigh. "Those devils'll kill off the old and infirm and anyone who tries fighting back. The little ones they'll carry off, I imagine. They may come to wish they were dead... But... but so long as a remnant of our people survive, Inoon survives, right?"
The words rang hollow, but the footsoldier nevertheless replied, "Yeah... Yeah, that's right..."
Seeing that his words had so little effect, and perhaps not being so convinced himself, the Inooni then said, "Remember our mission, Malgo. So long as we succeed, the sacrifices of this day will be a small price to pay."
The footsoldier rested a hand on the Inooni's shoulder and told him, "Ye take care of yerself, Balbi. Don't go gettin' caught in no nets swimmin' 'bout. Ah don't want te sees ye on me plate fer dinner."
The Inooni managed a weak chuckle and said, "Don't you be falling out of the damn boat on the way back. The depths won't be as hospitable for you as for me, eh?"
With that, the two men parted ways, knowing full well this would most likely be the last time they would see each other. There was no time to grieve over it, though. The day would be filled with weeping and wailing enough.