To be sure, there was no element of danger here lacking in his own quarters. The great cabin had three doors, and several ports whose shutters had been removed to allow what vagrant breezes might wander by to enter freely.
Zeskuk's cabin, on the other hand, had been rebuilt by Cleaver's first minotaur captain to make it easy for him to hold against enemies. He had many, or at least enough that he was no longer among the living-but all the carpentry on his cabin had not saved him from a shatang in the back in a waterfront drink shop.
To Zeskuk's left stood his sister, Fulvura. To his right stood Juiksum, son of Thenvor. Loyal enough to his father that the loudmouthed Thenvor had agreed to let his son represent him, Juiksum was also ambitious enough that he would not go against Zeskuk merely for the pleasure of it. Not when Zeskuk's aid might speed his coming into his inheritance, or else give him wealth and power in his own right.
The humans entered, the knights armored and with their badges but not visibly armed, the others clad richly enough that their faces were already turning red in the heat. All except for the little man garbed as a priest of Mishakal, who looked as if he would have been equally at ease in the crater of the Smoker or in an ice cave beset by Thanoi. The black-robed wizard looked less comfortable, but held both herself and her staff as if they were weapons.
"I bid you welcome. I am Zeskuk, chief over this fleet, which has come by the emperor's command to Suivinari Island, to fight or make alliance with you as may seem best for unlocking the island's mystery."
The emperor had at least not withheld his consent to the voyage, or to others besides Zeskuk's personally sworn crews joining it. That should let Zeskuk's statement pass any truth-testing spell Sirbones or the wizard might have bound into their staves.
"My sister, Fulvura," the minotaur continued with formal gestures, "one of my honored warriors, Juiksum. What can be said for the fleet of the Destined Race here, we three can say."
Zeskuk thought that the humans were trying not to look impressed. His negotiating with so few minotaur witnesses implied great control over his fleet and great loyalty from those aboard it.
Zeskuk only hoped that what he implied did not run too far ahead of reality.
The humans introduced themselves. The names of the knights and the soldiers in merchant's garb were no surprise; the names of the others were of no interest. The only surprise was the wasted-looking young man (doubtless older than he looked) who named himself Torvik Jemarsson.
Curiosity as to his being the son of the Jemar would be ill-timed now, but the question needed an answer.
Fulvura for the minotaurs and one of the merchants for the humans in turn spoke of the reasons for their fleets' coming to Suivinari. As Zeskuk had suspected, both gave the same public reason-to end the mystery and menace now haunting an island useful to both-and both had other, hidden reasons.
The minotaurs had come to learn if there was any way they could ban the humans from the island. The lack of such a watering place would keep human ships farther from minotaur waters.
The humans, as far as Zeskuk could judge, had come for the same reason. If they could not claim Suivinari outright, they would be content with some other embarrassment or humiliation of the Destined Race.
It was Zeskuk's intent to see if the two fleets could be united behind their public purpose, with their private ones left aside until the first was achieved. By then the minotaurs should have learned the human fleet's weaknesses-which might not be many, in a fleet of seventy ships carrying who knew how many fighters.
Still, one minotaur was fit to overcome at least four humans, if he knew where to strike at them. After some days of searching out the island's secrets together, the minotaurs should know some secrets of the humans'. Perhaps the humans might have learned some of the minotaurs', but Zeskuk trusted his people to keep their ears open and their mouths shut.
"I should add," Zeskuk continued, "that we know a trifle more than you of what is abroad on the island. We have watchers at a post on the Green Mountain. So we can see some of what moves on the island, and more of what moves on the sea around it."
He wondered if any human would be stung into saying something imprudent, by the implied accusation of treacherous scheming. None of them were, the warriors being too familiar with minotaur ways and the civilians being too ignorant to know an insult when they heard it.
This was not quite a surprise. The warriors, after all, had doubtless been taught by the gigantic Knight of Solamnia who had to be Sir Darin Waydolsson. By reputation, Sir Darin walked as much apart from humans as Waydol had from minotaurkind-but the humans had listened to him, and the minotaurs had not listened to Waydol.
What came as a surprise was young Torvik clearing his throat. "Pray tell how many fighters did you lose, posting watchers on the Green Mountain?" the young captain asked. "And how do you keep them supplied, with the island a weapon wielded against anyone traveling inland?"
"Yes," the wiry, graying knight who had to be Sir Pirvan the Wayward said. "Be warned, that if you do not tell us, we cannot help them. Not unless we read the messages they send by flag, or fire, or sun-mirror, and that would not be a course so honorable that we would choose it if we could do otherwise."
Juiksum snorted. Zeskuk was of the same mind. Sir Pirvan was flaunting his knowledge of how to threaten a minotaur without giving him cause to fight. Sir Darin, be it said to his honor, was giving his elder a slightly reproving look.
Torvik ignored both the knights and continued, "I am indeed the son of Jemar the Fair. If you know that, you should know the name of my mother."
"Lady Eskaia, of House Encuintras in Istar," Zeskuk said. He would not waste time by pretending ignorance.
"Indeed, although she is now wed to Gildas Aurhinius, who also stands here before you," Torvik replied, with a nod toward his mother's new husband.
Zeskuk inclined his head in the most minimal of gestures of honor. Then he inclined his head rather more, toward Torvik.
"Doubtless you wish to know how Jheegair and his son fare," he told the young man.
For the first time, Torvik looked bemused, but only for a moment. Zeskuk saw Darin struggle with the urge to kick the young man in the shins.
"Yes," Torvik said. "My mother dealt with them honorably. I do not remember her ever doing otherwise with anybody. Indeed, I have been curious to know if their lives were afterward filled with honor."
That was not a bad regaining of his feet after falling down; arena fighters had been cheered for less. Considering that Torvik had plainly not for many years thought of Jheegair, or the son of Jheegair whom his mother had saved from falling overboard from Gold Cup, it was a notable display of coolness and wits.
Jemar and Eskaia had between them bred a warrior to be reckoned with. Zeskuk would not delay in paying the first part of that reckoning, by answering Torvik's question truthfully.
"We lost four of the twelve warriors who set out for the mountain before they reached their post, although they tried to stay on bare ground. Another died of her wounds after reaching the mountain.
"They have water," the minotaur continued, "but scant food, save birds and their eggs. We are of divided minds about how best to assist them. Perhaps you have your own thoughts on the matter?"
This was addressed to Torvik, which was perhaps not altogether the wisest course of action. The oldest knight, second in height only to Sir Darin, looked sour, as did some of the merchants.