On the other hand, Teldin felt torn by a growing sense of duty. The Witchlight Marauders had to be stopped. He wasn't sure what he could do about the monsters, but neither did he feel that he could just walk away. Like Hectate, he hadn't wanted to get involved in the spreading conflict between the elves and goblinkin, but it was starting to look as if he wouldn't have a choice. Until he'd seen the gray monsters on the man-o-war, Teldin wasn't sure he could have chosen one side over the other. Granted, the scro were vicious, brutal characters, but the elves' methods were not exactly beyond reproach either.
Teldin thought back to his first war, the War of the Lance, back on his native Krynn. He'd entered it believing in black and white, heroes and villains; he'd left it believing in very little and deeply suspicious of those in positions of power. Cynicism came easily; at least, it did until he himself had been faced with the necessity of making a decision. He was beginning to understand some of the problems of leadership, some of the pitfalls that came with power. There were no right answers, only the struggle to find the greater good-or the lesser evil. And power! He'd survived the attempts of a dozen races who were willing to kill him and others to possess the magic cloak. What would he himself become in the process of wielding the cloak? And what would he become as captain of the Spelljammer? Even now, there were days when he looked in the mirror to shave and felt as if he were confronting a stranger.
After half of a watch slipped by, Teldin was no closer to either sleep or answers. With a sigh of surrender, he swung himself out of the hammock and went in search of the dracons. They both were on duty this watch, and maybe one of them would be free to drill with him. Perhaps the activity would clear his mind. At the very least, it would help sharpen his skills for the next battle. If there was one thing Teldin was sure about, it was that there would be more battles.
*****
Teldin was fending off Chirp's battle axe when Vallus came to the upper deck. "We must talk about Hectate Kir," the elf said without preamble.
Breathing heavily, Teldin wiped the sweat from his forehead and nodded to the dracon. Taking the hint, Chirp tucked the ornate weapon into its holster and ambled off, whistling as he went. "What is it?" Teldin asked anxiously, sheathing his own sword. "Did Hectate finally wake up?"
"So it would appear," Vallus said solemnly. "I am sorry to have to tell you this, but you must know. The first mate was found in the hold, beaten almost beyond recognition and left for dead. Under Deelia's care, he revived enough to describe his attacker."
Teldin's blue eyes narrowed. "I don't like where this is leading."
"Gaston claims that the being who attacked him was covered with plate armor, like an insect. There is only one person aboard who could fit that description."
"And that person is unconscious in my cabin," Teldin returned heatedly.
Vallus shook his head. "According to Deelia, the bionoid's injuries are not sufficient to explain his condition. Isn't it possible that he is feigning sleep to keep us off guard?"
"Let's say you're right. How did Hectate leave the cabin undetected?" the captain asked. "Someone has been with him at all times. If not Deelia or me, then Rozloom."
In response, Vallus merely turned and led the way to Teldin's cabin. When the elf eased open the door, they were greeted by a sonorous snore. Puzzled, Teldin peered in. Hectate still was unconscious. His breathing still was weak and shallow, and his unruly red hair was a shock of color above his pallid face.
Rozloom also slept. He lay on the floor, his booted feet propped up on Teldin's writing table and his vast belly rising and falling with each raucous blast of sound. An empty bottle from Teldin's sagecoarse hoard lay on the floor beside the snoring gypsy.
"Rozloom could have been asleep for hours," Vallus said as he shut the door.
"Days," Teldin corrected without humor. Experience had taught him that sagecoarse was potent stuff, and despite Rozloom's immense capacity for spirits, Teldin was surprised that anyone could put away an entire bottle and live to snore.
But even if Hectate could and did leave the cabin, Teldin did not believe that the bionoid was responsible for the first mate's injuries. As much as he hated to admit it, Pearl was a more likely suspect. The attack on Gaston was too much like her violent response to Rozloom's overeager courting. With her shape-shifting talent, she certainly could have taken on the armored form that Vallus had described. It had to be Pearl, unless…
"Paladine's blood," Teldin swore, raking both hands through his sandy hair. He turned back to the elven wizard. "You've searched the ship?" he asked sharply.
Vallus blinked. "For what?"
"An insectare," Teldin said. "I have no idea how it got on the ship, but I think we've got an insectare aboard."
"You want us to search the ship for an insectare?" Vallus echoed in disbelief.
Before Teldin could explain, the sound of fighting drifted up from the cargo deck.
"Don't bother," Teldin shouted as he sprinted down the stairs to the lower deck. "I think someone already found it."
Chapter Nineteen
Teldin and Vallus raced down the steps to the cargo hold, their swords drawn. They found several other members of the crew clustered at the base of the stairs, gaping at the peculiar battle.
Chirp and Trivit stood a dozen yards apart, using their enormous tails to bat a flailing, brown-robed creature back and forth between them. Despite the playful appearance of the scene, both dracons' faces were grim and tears ran in rivulets down Trivit's green cheeks.
Still in her moon elf form, Pearl came running down the stairs and pushed her way through the group. "I've got him, Captain," she announced. Drawing herself up, she inhaled slowly and deeply. Fearing the dragon intended to breathe a magic missile, Teldin clapped a hand over her mouth. Her gold and silver eyes widened in shock.
"Don't," Teldin said simply. He released her, then he drew her broadsword from her scabbard and handed her the ancient weapon. "If you have to fight, use this. Not as effective, but it won't blast another hole in the hull."
"Damned nuisance, being an elf," she muttered, looking with distaste at the sword in her hands.
Teldin turned away and cupped his hands to his mouth. "Trivit! Chirp! That's enough. Stop the insectare, now."
Chirp obediently stopped the tumbling creature with one foot, then quickly planted that foot on its prone body, moves that appeared to have been learned on a kickball field. Teldin hurried to the dracon's side. Although the insectare looked battered and dazed, it glared up at him with malevolent black eyes.
Teldin reached down and jerked back the creature's cowl. Knowing what he would find did not make the sight any less strange. The face was elven in form, but the peculiar color of green apples. Long black antennae rose from a thick thatch of wavy, flaxen hair to curl above its pointed ears like fiddlehead ferns. Remembering that Vallus had said those antennae could be used as lethal whips, Teldin seized the tip of one and thrust it into Chirp's hand.
"Hold this. Trivit, you come grab the other. Keep them taut." He prodded the insectare with his foot. "You, on your feet."
The dracons quickly got the idea and soon they had the furious insectare standing immobilized between them. Teldin was not insensitive to the humiliation he'd inflicted on the creature, but he didn't want it using its antennae on the crew.