muttered, “do either of you really want someone as
insignificant and unworthy as I? Surely a nice draconian
would do better!”
Captain Kruug had finally regained enough nerve to
rejoin the priest. The minotaur even dared peer over the
rail after the undead. “By the Mistress’s Eyes! I’ve never
seen such before!”
Stel smiled. “Yes, the spell worked quite well.”
“As you say. How long will . . . will it be before they
return?” The minotaur was clearly unnerved.
“YOU mean how long will it be until we can depart?”
Kruug glared at him, but finally nodded. “Yes . . . how
long? The skies grow darker. The clouds are gathering
and the sea is beginning to stir. It never pays to overtax
the good nature of the Sea Queen. She’s known to change
her mind, prefect.”
“It will not be long, captain. My servants do not face
the barriers that stop the living. No matter how deeply
sunken are the artifacts I seek, the undead will find them
in short order. The talisman I gave them will further
shorten their search. I, too, am trying to expedite things,
you see.”
“Good.” Kruug straightened to his full height. “I never
thought I’d be saying it, but I look forward to dry land this
night.” He thrust a thumb at Vandor Grizt. “And what
about that one?”
Stel’s hand stroked the dagger. “He is the last order of
business. When we are about to depart, I will sacrifice
him to Zeboim as a final gift.”
The draconians looked at each other and muttered.
Vandor took his cue from them. He did some fast
calculating. The nearest Temple of Chemosh had to be at
least twenty days’ journey from here . . .
“You give me to Zeboim, Master Stel? Not Chemosh?
You should really give this some lengthy consideration 1
If I were the wondrous Chemosh, I would be offended at
such shabby treatment!”
“Chemosh will understand. Chemosh is wise. Now cease
your prattle; I know what I do.” But Stel looked uncertain.
“We invade her domain. We must make restitution.” Was
he trying to convince himself?
The minotaur growled. “It would not be good to retract
a promise to the Sea Queen. She would be offended.”
“I had no intention of doing so,” Stel snapped. He
pointed into the dark waters. “There! You see?”
The draconians, curious, dragged their captive to the
side with them, enabling Vandor to see much more than he
wanted.
First one helmed head, then another appeared from the
murky water. Slowly, as if constrained to obey the one
who wielded power over them against their wishes, the
ragged shapes rose. Each carried within its skeletal arms
encrusted artifacts. Stel’s reluctant servants bowed before
the cleric of Chemosh and piled the various jewels, scroll
cases, staves, and weapons on the deck at his feet.
Everyone else backed away from the ghastly minions,
but Stel stepped forward eagerly to inspect his treasure.
He picked up first one object, then another. His excitement
swiftly changed to frustration.
“These are useless! They are dead! There is little or no
magic in most of them! Nothing!” The cleric froze. “The
Pendant of Chemosh is not here!”
Vandor noticed then that there were only five undead.
The last of his unfortunate ancestors had not returned; the
one, in fact, who held the skull talisman. Had he somehow
broken free?
Clouds were beginning to gather. The wind blew
stronger. The TAURON rocked. Prefect Stel glared at his
prisoner. “I see that I shall need more than a little blood. I
think it is time for you to join your ancestors in my quest,
thief!”
“I assure you that I would make a useless corpse,
Master Stel!” Vandor blurted, struggling. The draconians
dragged him to stand before the cleric. Vandor glanced
briefly at his sea-soaked forebears, who remained
steadfastly oblivious to all around them. He wondered
what it would be like to exist so, figured he didn’t have
long before he found out.
“Your blood will strengthen my hold, Vandor Grizt, and
you shall be my messenger to the Sea Queen. You should
consider yourself honored; this will probably be the only
thing of significance you’ve ever done in your paltry life!”