The civilar and his companions halted on the steps, held back by the illusion Iakhovas maintained over the pentekonter. "You people worked hard to get all these things in here," he said appreciatively.
Laaqueel only gave him a slight nod, not having a clue what the man thought he saw.
"May Tymora smile on you and bless you with her favors," the civilar said. He turned and went back up the steps.
"I presume all below decks was found to be in good standing?" Iakhovas asked when they walked back on deck.
"It was fine," the civilar said. "I'll get you clear of the East Torch Tower gate."
Iakhovas glanced at the man, fixing his single eye upon him and making a gesture with two fingers. "You mean the Stormhaven Island gate."
"Of course I do," the civilar responded.
"Passage for all four ships," Iakhovas went on.
"Aye. Passage for all four ships."
"And you'll stay with us to make sure we get through."
"I'll stay with you," the civilar said. "In the last few hours our orders were to take everyone through the East Torch Tower gate except under special circumstances."
"Good," Iakhovas said in a quiet, low voice. "Signal your men and secure passage for us."
The civilar took two torches from a waterproof pouch on his back. They reeked of oil. He struck a flint and the sparks leaped onto the first torch, catching immediately. He lit the second torch with the first.
Laaqueel took an involuntary step back when the combined torches blazed up. The acrid smoke dried the back of her throat and irritated her gills. Smoke made breathing in the open air even less tolerable.
Waving the torches in a brief pattern, the civilar stepped back. "You can proceed, my lord."
Laaqueel didn't miss the address. She could tell from Iakhovas's cruel smile that she wasn't supposed to.
None of the other members of the Guard said anything, just stood at military attention.
"Puppets," Iakhovas stated. "They say what I want and hear only what I want them to, and never a thought enters their heads unless I place it there myself."
The wererat crew milled on the deck as Drifting Eel's pilot brought them around to the Stormhaven Island gate. The gate was strategically located for Iakhovas's plan. The Waterdhavian Naval Harbor lay immediately to the northwest of the outer gate. Once the outer gate was taken down, the full thrust of the waiting attack would begin. By that time the sahuagin warrior groups circling Waterdeep by way of the mud flats to the north would attack the West Gate and split the city's forces.
North of the naval harbor, the great, bald craggy mountain where Waterdeep Castle had been built stood overlooking the entire city. Lights burned in various places along Piergeiron's Palace, announcing only some of the City Watch secured areas. Closer to the shore along the Dock Ward, the Watching Tower, the Harborwatch Tower, and Smuggler's Bane Tower all looked out over the Great Harbor. A grim fortification occupied the right side of Stormhaven Island gate.
Despite the iron control she'd developed as a sahuagin, a spy, a priestess, and as the only one who knew more of Iakhovas's secrets than anyone else, Laaqueel's stomach fluttered as she watched the huge metal nets that served as gates lower out of their way to the sea bed below. When they were up, getting a ship through was almost impossible.
Surface dwellers occupied the fortifications and towers above the harbor waters. Mermen, mermaids, and sea elves kept patrol in the depths. The proof of the attack, Laaqueel knew, would be learned in the next handful of minutes.
"It's time, little malenti," Iakhovas said, "assume command of your forces and insure that these gates remain open so that the rest of our navy will be able to join us. Do not fail me."
She nodded, her eyes meeting his solitary gaze. "I won't."
The Waterdhavian Guard members gave no notice of having overheard the conversation.
Laaqueel left the deck and went down the stairs. The sahuagin warriors gathered in the hold looked up at her expectantly. "It's time. No one lives. Only our enemies are around us."
"We are ready to slay in the name of Great Sekolah, most favored one," a four-armed chieftain roared. "Meat is meat. Our enemies will regret meeting We Who Eat."
The malenti remembered his name as Bouundaar, an aggressive male who'd worked his way up in rank quickly. The overly aggressive ones always did under Iakhovas's watchful eye. "Three teams, Chieftain Bouundaar, quickly."
"It has already been done, most favored one."
"Then come. You and your team are with me. The others go to attack the defenses at the bottom of the harbor and the fortification to the east."
"It shall be as you say, most favored one."
Laaqueel dived into the cold water without another word, and the battle for Waterdeep Harbor began.
V
11 Mirtul, the Year of the Gauntlet
The dream overtook Jherek while he lay in Butterfly's brig, filling him with the same cold dread that all memories of his father did when they haunted his sleep.
He swam in the blue-green of a sea. He didn't know which sea it was, nor did he care. He was free. He'd spent days in the brig at the insistence of the Amnian merchant.
He took joy in the feel of the warmth of the sea against his skin, at the currents that brushed against him. He knew at once it was a dream because he could breathe underwater. Looking up, he couldn't see the surface, and looking down he found a sea bed scattered with coral and fish.
He swam for a time, racing fish and finding that he was faster than them. Exuberant, he flashed through the water, diving and twisting and rolling through the ocean in great loops.
Only a short time later, he spotted the largest clam he'd ever seen. It was ten feet across, nearly that deep, and possessed a ridged alabaster shell. Curiosity gripped him and he was drawn to it. As he watched, it started to slowly open.
Jherek floated in the water, mesmerized by what was happening. Even before the clam was halfway open, he spotted the woman inside.
She was beautiful, close to his age, and had platinum blond hair that framed a nut-brown complexion. Since she wasn't dressed, he could see all her generous curves and womanly gifts.
Jherek was embarrassed, but somehow he felt it was right to simply gaze at her.
She smiled at him and waved. "Jherek," she cooed.
He heard his name plainly. Even his unconscious mind knew it was a dream, but he couldn't ignore that siren call. He swam down to her, realizing that she was a mermaid, her lower body that of a fish, all sheathed in iridescent green scales.
Instead of being appalled, he found her nature made her even more attractive to him. He stopped just short of her, gazing in wonder as she sat on the pink bed of the clam.
She reached out to him, laying her palm along the side of his face. Her touch was warm, soft. A string of shaped fire coral figurines lay between her breasts.
"Lady," he said in a thick voice.
"Shhhh," she admonished him, "I'm here to talk to you, to warn you."
"Warn me of what?" Jherek asked. "I've already been locked in Butterfly's brig. When I get back home, I'll probably be hanged in the dockyards."
"No," she told him. "That's not going to happen. You've made friends, Jherek, and they'll stand you in good stead. You must not lose heart or hope. Things have been given to you, but you must seek out the key that opens the understanding you need."
He shook his head. "No. This is only a dream. Something my mind has culled from one of Malorrie's romantic stories."