That, reflected Brigit grimly, left only every other direction as a potential source of sudden, violent death.
"Do they see us?" asked Hanrald weakly, unable to focus his eyes on the distant longship.
"Yes-they're coming," the sister knight told him, trying to make her voice sound more cheerful than her thoughts. "They'll be here soon. Just try to rest for a few more minutes."
In truth, the Princess of Moonshae remained near the distant palace, lumbering through the water with barely perceptible motion. Clearly she had again suffered grievous damage, and Brigit doubted it would reach the pair of knights before Keane's spells ceased to protect them.
"Yes. . rest," Hanrald agreed dreamily, closing his eyes and again slumping to the platform.
Frantically Brigit looked around for some source of hope-and it was then that she saw the new force of swimmers approaching the battle. They came from beyond her tower, swarming straight toward Brigit and Hanrald and, beyond them, the embattled longship. Brigit saw hundreds of the piscine forms, and she knew that these fresh assailants would reach her long before the Princess of Moonshae could get close.
The female knight noticed something different about these warriors. They swam more naturally, and faster, than did the scaly creatures of the Coral Kingdom. Even in the depths, light glinted from sharp spearheads and tridents, growing steadily more visible as the hundreds of swimming figures rushed closer.
She could tell for certain that the newcomers would reach them before the longship did, and she knew that she and Hanrald, exposed on this high platform, would make easy prey for the numerous attackers.
Nevertheless, she raised her sword and prepared to exact a stiff price for her life.
On the ship, the voyagers also watched the newly arriving force spread out, thinning their ranks to drive forward in a final burst of speed. In moments, they swarmed around the tower top where Brigit stood, but the newcomers pressed on, inflicting no harm to the elfwoman.
"Mermen!" cried Tristan Kendrick in sudden recognition. "They're here to help us!" He indicated the swimming figures, now sweeping past Brigit and Hanrald, surging toward the undersea warriors of Kyrasti that now advanced against the longship.
The mermen warriors of Marqillor's realm swept into the ranks of Sythissal's army with brutal savagery. In a matter of a few seconds, a vast, seething melee swirled through the water as mermen, sahuagin, and scrags darted high and low, both companies quickly entangling in a desperate underwater clash.
Dozens of mermen surrounded the scrag columns. The fish-tailed humanoids darted in, stabbing with their long, sharp weapons and then diving away before the larger, less nimble scrags could return the assault. Schools of sahuagin and mermen mingled in slashing attacks, many clouds of pink froth and motionless bodies marking the wounded and slain on both sides.
The warriors of Deepvale were outnumbered by the defenders of Kyrasti, but they used the speed and surprise of their attack to disrupt each monstrous formation. As it had when the Princess of Moonshae made her bold approach to the submarine palace, the monsters' inability to concentrate seemed to cost them their chance for an easy victory. Still, however, the melee raged through the sea, at great cost in lives to both sides.
"The squid-it's closing in!" shouted Alicia, looking to the rear with growing alarm as the beast rushed at the ship. A volley of arrows-a small barrage, for only four of the Corwellian bowmen still lived-plunked into the water, but the huge beast ignored the pinpricks.
Cursing, Knaff clutched the helm, holding the longship steady. There was nothing else he could do, no evasive action that could hope to elude the monstrous pursuer. The squid spurted forward, reaching out with long tendrils toward the Princess of Moonshae's stern.
Brigit Cu'Lyrran, Mistress Captain of the Sisters of Synnoria, sat atop the tower, still hundreds of feet beneath the surface of the Trackless Sea, and watched an army of mermen make their slashing attack against the predatory humanoids of the Coral Kingdom. A sense of dull amazement possessed her. She still couldn't bring herself to believe that these hundreds of warriors had passed her without attacking. Where they came from, who or what had summoned them-these remained mysteries.
"We fought well, Sister Knight," Hanrald said weakly. The human sat up enough to look over the edge of the platform, watching the longship approach through the murk, seeing the battles raging through the sea. The vessel still bore the Helm of Zulae, gleaming brilliantly at her prow, and the ship approached them slowly. Nevertheless, their companions had nearly a half-mile to go before they reached the stranded knights.
"That we did," Brigit replied, kissing him gently on his pale forehead. "I'm proud to have fought beside a knight such as you."
But already her words sounded thick in their ears, and as Hanrald reached out a hand, it met increasing resistance-the pressure of the water, a clear indication that the protection of the spell had begun to wane.
The Earl of Fairheight felt a sudden penetrating chill, and with a sidelong look at Brigit, he knew that she had experienced the same thing. The sea had surrounded them ever since they left the ship, but now it pressed against their skin, obstructing movement and blocking speech as the first of Keane's spells, the enchantment of free action, slowly dissipated. If it hadn't been for their heavy armor, the natural buoyancy of their bodies would have floated the knights right off the platform.
With the passing of this effect, they knew that it was only a matter of time-minutes, or perhaps merely seconds-before the protection of the second enchantment faded.
That, of course, was the spell of water breathing.
The time was now, Deirdre knew. Her teleportation spell, coupled with the knowledge gained from her mirror, gave her the ability to travel instantly to the point of decision. This time, however, before she cast the spell, she picked up her mirror. Wrapping the glass once more in its leather blanket, she clutched it beneath her arm and concentrated upon the precise enchantment.
Teleportation was always a tricky matter. Normally the spell depended upon the sorcerer traveling to a place that she knew very well; otherwise it was impossible to coordinate the point of arrival with the real world. Although an error of five feet to one side or the other might not make a lot of difference, a mistake that brought a magic-user through a teleportation five feet too low would almost certainly prove fatal.
But such was the unerring accuracy of the visions in Deirdre's mirror that, so long as she was certain to take reasonable care, the sorceress had no difficulty performing a teleportation to a coordinate she had pinpointed through her arcane scrying glass.
Now she carefully chanted the words to her spell, calling into her mind the picture she had witnessed scarce moments before. In a twinkling instant, she vanished from Caer Callidyrr.
As she expected, the mirror provided her with an uncanny sense of precision, for she arrived in the stern of the longship, appearing so suddenly that Knaff the Elder nearly stumbled over the stern in astonishment. Brandon gaped at her in shock as she brusquely stepped passed him, advancing to the transom and staring intently through the wake.
There, drawing quickly nearer, she made out the shape of the giant squid-the being she would no longer call Malawar.
Marqillor's warriors ripped through the line of Sinioth's followers, individual mermen diving amid the scrags and sahuagin, stabbing with long spears while they used small, tortoiseshell bucklers to deflect the weapons of the scaly carnivores.