“Then they are wise,” Grieve said, disappointed. He saw at least a hundred selka, but he had thousands of Norukai warriors. The creatures kept their distance, and Grieve glowered, challenging them.
One figure bobbed in front of the rest, brightly colored and vicious. He thought it was the selka queen. If so, he wanted to jam his fist in her mouth and break through her skull. He grinned at the thought.
From the stern of the ship, when the Norukai pulled the knotted ropes and raised the trolling nets to see what fish they had caught, the men shouted in surprise and triumph.
Chalk bounced up and down. “Told you, told you! Now we kill.”
A selka was caught in the net. It had tried to slip in among the serpent ships for a treacherous attack, looking for a way to damage their hulls. How many others might be unseen below the surface? The entangled selka writhed and clawed at the net, almost breaking free, but the Norukai pummeled it with their clubs and axes.
“Don’t kill it!” Grieve yelled. “Not yet.”
The battered creature had large slitted eyes and a wide fishlike mouth that seemed a mockery of how Norukai scarred their mouths to look more like the serpent god, but Grieve knew these selka were no children of the serpent god.
Even cut, bruised, and bleeding, the selka snapped its jaws and slashed at them with its claws. Grieve strode forward, not fearing the thing. He balled his fist and punched the selka full in the face. The impact of his iron-reinforced knuckles made a squelching sound accompanied by a crunch of facial bones. The selka spewed blood from its flattened nostrils, leaking slime and saliva from its slack mouth.
Grieve said, “Tie a rope around its ankles and take it to the mainmast.” He secured the thick chain-link belt around his own waist.
The Norukai dragged the stunned creature across the deck, leaving a trail of slime and blood as if a slug had curled its way across the boards. Grieve stood beside the tall mast. Gazing out at the water, he saw that more selka had gathered just beyond the reach of the serpent ships. Grieve could sense their anger, but the selka spy and saboteur was a prisoner of war. They had sent it here to attack, and he would treat it accordingly.
One of the Norukai climbed the mast with the other end of the rope, which he threw over the yardarm. Grieve seized the dangling end and pulled hand over hand, hoisting the captive selka up off the deck so that it swung head down. The rope remained tight around the creature’s ankles, lashing its webbed feet together. As it hung high above the deck, the captive selka hissed and stirred, swaying like bait on a fisherman’s hook.
Grieve tied off the rope on a deck stanchion. The inverted selka struggled but could find no purchase in the air. It bent its back, trying to reach the rope at its ankles, but to no avail.
Grieve bellowed out to the open water. “Selka queen! We have one of yours. Watch what we will do to all of you!” The big king climbed the mast, hand over hand, holding on to a rigging rope until he reached the yardarm from which the selka hung. The captive swung and clawed at the air, unable to reach Grieve.
From his high position, the king bellowed, “Watch, selka queen!” He pulled out his knife, whose hilt was carved from a sea-serpent skeleton that had washed ashore on one of the Norukai islands. With one hand, Grieve pulled the flailing creature close. With his other hand, as he balanced precariously on the yardarm, Grieve drew the razor edge across the selka’s throat. The creature gaped and snapped with its jaws, but now its neck yawned open like a wide red gill slit. The selka shuddered as its blood sprayed out.
Below, Chalk bounded along on the deck, raising his pale hands to receive the spattering of red rain. Other Norukai joined the shaman, turning their scarred faces upward and letting selka blood fall on them.
From up on the mast, the king could see the gathered selka on the water, angry and vengeful, but wise enough not to attack the Norukai raiding force.
When the body was drained, Grieve cut the rope and let the selka fall to the deck, where it lay cracked and broken. He worked his way down and jumped the last five feet to the boards. He bent over the selka body and used his big knife to hack off the creature’s hideous head. It was slimy, covered with blood, its slitted eyes dull, but still open. Grieve decided to mount it on a spike behind the carved serpent head on the prow.
“I will keep this for my collection, but take the body. Keep the rope tied around its feet and drop it over the side. Drag it behind our ship so the selka can smell the blood in the water.” He chuckled. “Maybe they will learn their lesson.” He doubted it, though.
The Norukai cast the headless selka body overboard, and it drifted in their wake.
Less than an hour later, the rope tugged hard, and King Grieve wasn’t surprised when his crew pulled the rope back in to find the body gone, the rope gnawed through by sharp teeth.
CHAPTER 61
With the dire possibility of General Utros summoning a dragon, the duma members were forced to make a swift decision, rather than indulge their penchant for endless debate. Once Nicci added her voice to Nathan’s and Elsa’s, the council voted unanimously. Ildakar would unleash the two Ixax warriors as a powerful weapon against the enemy.
Late at night, workers lashed together large wooden platforms mounted on heavy iron-shod wheels, creating a pair of carts sturdy enough to carry the Ixax warriors. Using ropes for balance, work teams pulled the armored titans, supporting them as they tilted the massive figures, while Nathan and Nicci used their gift to cushion the fall with air as the giants landed on the wagon beds.
With the Ixax warriors prone on the large carts, teams hauled them through the rubble of Andre’s villa and out into the open. They led a nighttime procession through the streets of Ildakar, slowly guiding the Ixax wagons toward the walls and the main gate. Many people came out to watch under the glowing streetlights. Some cheered in foolish defiance of General Utros, while the wiser citizens were somber and frightened.
The city had fallen ominously silent hours before, when the ancient half-petrified soldiers outside the walls ceased pounding and withdrew to the main army, without explanation. Nathan knew that was not a good sign. Utros must be planning something terrible. What if he had found a dragon? That alone was enough to spur them to greater speed. Now, the procession replaced the ominous silence with defiant noise as they approached the giant gate.
As Nathan and Elsa walked alongside the slow-moving carts with Nicci leading the way, the wizard looked at the enormous warriors lying back and staring upward at the starry sky through the slits in their helmets. Nathan realized this was the first time these titans had seen the stars in more than fifteen centuries. He thought again about what those innocent young men had sacrificed. Jonathan, Rald, and Denn.
The procession passed gathered crowds. Children looked wide-eyed at the colossal warriors rolling past, while parents, old men, merchants, and freed slaves watched uneasily. With forced good cheer, Nathan ignited a bright fire in his palm. “Why so sullen? Dear spirits, we must cheer for these heroes, our Ixax warriors! They will save Ildakar. Show how much you appreciate them. They have given everything for your city.” He flared his hand torch brighter.
Elsa smiled, realizing what he meant. “Yes, everyone—cheer!” She let out a whistle and lit her own magical fire. “For the Ixax warriors, for the defenders of Ildakar!”
With a slowly building ripple, shouts rang out along the streets, and the congratulatory applause grew louder. Walking beside the armored head of one Ixax, Nathan bent close to whisper, “Listen to them, my friend. They know you and they appreciate you. Soon, you will finally get to do what you’ve waited to do for centuries.”