"They don't need me here," Iakhovas said. "Man, dwarf, elf, sahuagin, and sea creature, they all know how to kill each other without any guidance on my part."
"But, Exalted One, you're their king. They'll notice your absence."
Iakhovas smiled. "I don't think so. Even should they look for me, little malenti, I am here for them."
He gestured, releasing something from his hand that suddenly swirled around on its own axis. In the blink of an eye, a huge, fierce looking sahuagin appeared beside Iakhovas.
Laaqueel understood immediately that the replica was how he looked in his sahuagin form to the rest of her community. Gazing at the harsh features, she realized Iakhovas had deliberately made himself handsome by sahuagin standards. He hadn't done that at Waterdeep, and Laaqueel thought it was mute testimony that his powers had dramatically increased since then.
"Now," Iakhovas said, "we can go."
"Where?"
"To pursue my own interests."
Iakhovas released a sea gull feather into the wind, then he leaped into the air and hung there for a moment. Fear ran like ice through Laaqueel's veins. If the sahuagin saw Iakhovas openly doing magic, he would lose their trust immediately. Even most warriors regarded a priestess's powers with suspicion.
"Don't panic," Iakhovas said. "I've taken precautions. None of those around you can see either of us anymore. Come."
He gestured again, pointing at a place near the malenti as he glided above the deck. He flicked his finger, and a silver blob was flung off. Laaqueel watched as the tiny silver blob sailed through the air, then splashed against an invisible surface three feet above the ground. It glimmered and disappeared, consumed by the spell.
"Get on, little malenti," Iakhovas ordered.
Hesitantly, Laaqueel moved in the direction of where the silvery blob had disappeared. Even though she guessed that it was there, she was surprised when she bumped into an invisible object. Running her hands around it, she discovered that it was circular in shape but only had two dimensions, curved slightly concave like a clamshell.
"Hurry," Iakhovas urged.
Only the fear of his disapproval made Laaqueel climb onto the magic platform. Her weight shifted it only a little as it floated, but it quickly righted itself.
Without another word, Iakhovas flew forward, staying low over the water as he aimed them northwest toward the city proper. Glancing below, she spotted another Flaming Fist ship as it was boarded by sahuagin. The ship's defenders held the line for a moment, then broke as the sahuagin grabbed them in claws and jaws.
Laaqueel stayed hunkered down on the platform, praying to Sekolah to guide her. She wasn't surprised that Iakhovas had his own agenda tonight-he always did-but Baldur's Gate hadn't been taken quite as much by surprise as Waterdeep had.
"We can make a stand here, damn ye!" Khlinat roared as he chopped at a sahuagin hand that reached across the crates blocking that section of the harbor. Sea devil fingers splattered to the dock.
Standing beside him, Jherek concentrated on his sword-play, batting aside the trident thrusts. Other men stood shoulder to shoulder with him, making a tight line to hold back the sahuagin attackers. So far they'd managed to hold their position despite the mass of sea devils on the other side.
Only now a bearded man in chain mail with the Flaming Fist standard on his tabard was trying to get them to break ranks. He carried a broadsword in one scarred fist.
"Stand down and fall back!" the man roared.
"Who the hell do ye think ye are to be giving us orders?" Khlinat demanded. Several other sailors echoed his sentiments, adding various curses.
"I'm Sergeant Hobias Churchstone," the grizzled man said, "of the Flaming Fist Mercenary Company."
Spotting a familiar shape at the base of the crates he defended, Jherek stooped and caught up the boat hook that had been abandoned there. It slid into his hand naturally, curving up from between his spread fingers.
"Get some oil!" one of the sailors yelled. "We'll get us a proper bonfire going."
Out in the harbor, the distinctive bunyip roar sounded again. A thousand fear-filled memories charged through Jherek's mind, whipping by like a school of startled fish, shaking him to his very core. Everything he remembered about his father scared him, from the memories he actually had of the man to what he'd later learned of him in stories.
He'd been four when his father had lashed a man to the mainmast then made Jherek stand by while he whipped him to death. The man had stolen from his bunkmate, a crime that Bloody Falkane didn't put up with. Steal from anyone else and it was all right, but never from Bunyip's crew. The only blood spilled aboard Bunyip had been with Bloody Falkane's blessings.
After the man had died, the pirate captain ordered the body hung from the mast by its feet, a grim reminder to all the crew about where their loyalties lay. It had taken weeks for the carrion birds that regularly followed ships at sea to finish stripping the meat from the corpse.
A sahuagin thrust at Jherek again, shoving a trident across the stacked crates. Jherek twisted and slipped the blow, then captured the trident's haft behind the fork with his hook. Yanking the sahuagin off-balance, he swung his sword, cleaving his opponent's skull.
"Fall back!" Churchstone ordered. "You can hold this position for only a few minutes more. They're starting to close in from the sides."
Glancing over his shoulders in both directions, Jherek knew the pronouncement was true. The sahuagin had battled across other boats and sections of the docks, climbing onto the mainland in front of the shops and warehouses that lined the harbor district. Fire claimed the interiors of more buildings.
"Where would ye be after leading us?" Khlinat roared.
"To the warehouse behind you," Churchstone said. "We're better prepared for them there."
Jherek risked a glance at the warehouse, noting its disheveled appearance and the open bay doors. The interior was dark and immense. He turned to the dwarf, knowing Khlinat had fallen into the leadership role for the group of dockworkers surrounding them through his prowess and loud voice. The Flaming Fist sergeant had recognized it as well.
"Khlinat," Jherek said, blocking another trident thrust and pinning the weapon against the crate. Before the sahuagin had a chance of pulling the trident back, the young sailor flicked the hook out and caught his opponent through the gills. Jherek gave a twist and a yank that tore the sahuagin's throat out. "Retreating does make sense. We made this line and we held them. Now it's time to fall back and meet them again."
The dwarf fought gamely, avoiding a thrown javelin, then batting aside a trident thrust and slamming home another hand axe into the sahuagin's thorax. "Aye, swab, ye have the right of it." He blocked another blow and missed one of his own. "At times, I'm a prideful man. I don't like backing away from no fight."
"By Tymora's favored smile and grace, you sawed-off runt!" Churchstone roared. "You're not retreating from a damned fight. You're moving to better wage it."
"Have a care as to how ye address me," the dwarf roared back. "Else, if ye should survive the blades of these sea devils, ye will soon have another fight on yer hands."
"Khlinat," Jherek said, wanting desperately for the dwarf to listen to him. Even though they'd fought the arriving sahuagin to a standstill, they were losing men.
The dwarf nodded. "Aye, swab, and I hear ye." He raised his voice from a roar to a bellow. "To the warehouse, damn ye lazybones! Regroup and let's show these beasties the color of their gizzards!"