Chapter VIII:
The Thunder Snake
And when at last they faced their Foe,
When mighty men in boats did row,
She did not cow'r as others might,
But leapt from deck in black of night.
Naught but sea between her and death,
She struggled till her final breath,
Did all but leave her breast at last,
Yet to the beast she held on fast.
Her blade sunk deep in scaly mesh,
Water turned red from wounded flesh,
Dalele had slain her fearsome foe,
His carcass sunk beneath the flow.
These deeds won her a rich reward,
In honor of her mighty sword,
Wealth and riches enough to pay,
The demand which on her lover lay.
The Departure
It was late in the following year (the third year in the old chronology of the elves) when Lord Pelas gave the command that the fleets would set sail. This was not at all unusual. The fleets had set sail many times since their failed attempt upon the Great Serpent. But never had he ordered that every ship should sail. Moreover, even had he sent his entire fleet out to sea, it would not have been the same as it now was - for the fleet had grown since that time.
After the Aguians had attacked, Pelas ordered his men to build a shipyard, and he pressed his men every day to built and outfit new warships. He also put the Snakil to work mining iron and copper from the hills. In time he had restored his fleet to its former size, although not to its former glory. The ships they built scarcely resembled those that had been constructed in Bel Albor. But the Knariss were clever shipwrights, and the ships they made were at least as sturdy as those built in Sunlan.
Despite Jarot's constant pestering, and despite the doubts of his companions, Pelas made no attempt to ascertain the whereabouts of the Serpent. He did not ask for news of him, or consult any wise man for advice or council. It was his firm belief that if he set out to slay the Serpent, the monster could not but accept the challenge. In this way, perhaps, the Serpent and the lord elf were much the same. He had no doubt that if he sailed into the east, or in any which direction he pleased, so long as he sailed in great force against the monster, it would not fail to answer his summons.
On that morning Dalia awoke as usual to the nervous pleas of her maidservant Orix, who was saying, 'My lady, you must awake. The fleets will be leaving today, and master Amro has asked to see you in his smithy.'
Dalia opened her eyes reluctantly. She had been dreaming of Thuruvis again, as she did most nights. His wounds were healed, as she knew they must be in truth by this time, and his spirit was strong. He was calling to her; reaching out to her across the water. But she could not go to him yet.
'Come, then Orix,' she said, rising from her bed and dressing swiftly. 'We must first go to the baths.'
Orix's eyes grew wide and she could not help but shake her head. 'The lady prepares herself for a voyage like a young bride, but for a feast like a dock man,' she thought. She would never understand the ways of the Immortals.
It was nearly noon by the time she passed through the door to Amro's smithy, dressed in a dark blue tunic with her sword on a silver belt at her hip. She wore new sandals, laced up to her knee and she bore a large bundle on her shoulders.
'You are ready, not only to leave for war, but to leave Grenost I see,' Amro said in a kindly voice.
'I do not have many belongings,' she said. 'And I may as well bring them along. I shall be all the more ready to return home when it is all finished in this way.'
'Yes, but shall you return alone, Dalele? Surely you cannot think that we will slay the invinsible sea monster in the utter east and then turn north from thence, sailing without delay for Sunlan.'
'I think no such thing, uncle,' she replied with a smile. 'But when the hour comes for our departure, I shall be the very first to board the homeward ships.'
'And you are quite certain that you have packed everything you own?' Amro asked, as if to instill doubt within her.
She paused for a moment, her eyes glancing upward as if she meant to look within her own mind. After a moment she answered, 'Of course,' but then, 'Well, there is the reward after all. I have not packed that, yet.'
'The reward?' Amro said, as if he had never heard of such a thing. The only reward he anticipated was the safe return of Ele's daughter. If Pelas gave him gold, it would matter very little to him. Moreover, he and Ghastin had agreed - at Ghastin's insistence - that their lot should go toward Dalia's fortunes. In this way she was almost certain to have enough gold to satisfy her father's desires. That is, of course, assuming they survived. More than likely this voyage would be an extravagant waste of time and gold. If they were fortunate enough to find the Serpent, then Amro saw little hope of any outcome that did not involve the lot of them sinking to the bottom of the sea, or being swallowed up by the Serpent. Then there were those strange monsters the Snakil called 'Aguians'.
According to Jarot, these beasts were in some way the servants of the Serpent, and were never seen but in the wake of the Serpent's destruction. But the elves had not been destroyed; and the Aguians had learned a hard lesson. Jarot laughed and said, 'They have never seen any survive the Serpent with enough strength to also survive their attacks. They loot the wrecks of those brought down by the monster, and they make an end of any who survive him.'
'Are they, then, in league with the Serpent?' Pelas had asked.
It took nearly a minute of laughter before Jarot, seeing the ire in Pelas' face, answered, 'In league? No. But they ever follow in his wake, my lord.'
'Yes; it is the reward for which I have come on this journey,' Dalia answered her uncle, as though he needed such a reminder.
'Ah, yes, the heaps of gold,' he laughed. 'But there is one thing more,' he said, turning from his work and lifting a bundle from a nearby table. You have forgotten your sword of all things!'
Her eyes peeled back in amazement. She had not spoken to him about weapons since the day the Aguians attacked, but when she opened the bundle she found a sword, in every way the twin of Ghastin's blade. Upon the hilt was written, 'Cutha Dalelis Marineis,' which, in the tongue of Sunlan, means, 'The sword of Dalia the Mariner.'
'Uncle!' she marveled. 'But I thought you had no steel?'
'I always have steel,' he said with a smile. 'Especially for the daughter of Ele.'
She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him on the cheek. 'Thank you, Amro.'
She drew the blade from its sheath and her eyes opened still wider. It was in every respect a warrior's blade. It was as long and heavy a blade as any man would use. Amro's relief could not be hidden from his eyes as he watched her swing the blade with ease. He was not sure until that moment that she would be able to handle such a sword. But when he saw the difficulty she had battling the Aguians he had decided that she needed a warrior's blade, and not a court ornament.
'Now we can go and kill the Thunder Snake,' came a voice from the other side of the room. Ghastin stood there, leaning against the wall without making a sound. Whether he had been there the whole time or not she could not have guessed. He pushed himself away from the wall and approached her. 'Remember why you have come here, Dalele,' he said sternly. 'You have come for Thuruvis; and all depends upon your return. Do not let that blade put it into your mind that you must risk yourself for the sake of Pelas. Let Pelas slay the Serpent if he wishes; you must see to your own ends, even as he will see to his. Think not that he would miss a night's rest if you perished.'
'But if Pelas perishes, Ghastin,' she replied, 'who will reward me?'
'Do not worry about such things,' he said. 'If your father refuses to relent-'
'That is enough, brother,' Amro interrupted. Ghastin had suggested more than once that they abandon the others to return to Sunlan. There Amro and Ghastin could easily overwhelm Dalta and carry Ele off to wheresoeve
r they pleased. Amro shook his head as if to remind his brother that Ele was no longer their charge. However she came to be in her current circumstances, she did not entirely hate Dalta. And Dalia was part of her father; she would not allow them to kill him.
Ghastin seemed to pine after the days of his childhood, when it was just Amro and him. This often seemed to blind him entirely to the fact that his kin had in many ways moved on. In some dark corner of his mind there seemed to linger the hope that they might someday escape the ambitions of Pelas entirely.
'We must see to our own preparations, brother,' Amro reminded him.
'Fine,' Ghastin said disappointedly. 'I must see to something first, however. I will be on the docks ere the departure.'
With those words he pushed past Orix, barely noticing her as he left the smithy.
As he had promised, Ghastin appeared on the docks just as the Dadiiron was preparing to depart. Falruvis had just arrived and was now preparing to board the ship. 'Brother,' Amro said. 'It is customary for the captain to board the ship last of all. You would not go against custom, would you?'
Ghastin smiled mischievously, 'I wouldn't dare,' he answered with a dark smile.
'Where have you been?' Dalia asked.
'Never you mind,' he answered. 'I have been working,' he said after a pause.
'Working?' Amro said with a start. 'I did not know you knew the meaning of the word.'
'I am not a blacksmith, brother,' he said coolly, 'but I keep myself occupied.'
'I'm sure you do,' Amro laughed. 'But now we must occupy ourselves with the ship. Come.'
With that the three of them took up their bundles and walked up the ramp onto the deck of the Dadiiron. The ship was barely recognizable to them at first. There were smaller boats piled high on the decks, tied to the side of the ship, and tucked away anywhere they could be fit. 'The Knariss have not been idle,' Ghastin mused. In each of the smaller ships there were harpoons and great coils of rope. 'It would be unfortunate if we failed to find the Serpent,' Ghastin said, amused by all the labor that had been put into this voyage. He did not believe for an instant that they would see the monster. He, like most of the other elves, thought it was foolish to set out on such a voyage when not even a rumor of the Serpent had been heard for over six months. But Pelas was confident - nay, he was sure - that the Serpent would come to him.
The Fleet
Lord Pelas now had under his command some five-hundred vessels. Only a hundred of the Sunlan warships were still capable of sailing. The remaining four-hundred ships were either ships they had purchased in some of the ports on the northeastern coast of Dominas, where the Merkata and the Harz would someday battle for power. This was before the rise of Mount Fhuhar; before that mighty volcano destroyed the forest, and before the fall of Bel Albor shook the whole world of Tel Arie.
The rest of their ships they built for themselves in Grenost, where the Knariss and the Snakil labored day and night to satisfy Lord Pelas' ambitions.
The ships were light but sturdy, built with the cunning of the Knariss but in the style of the Snakil. They were longer than the Sunlan ships, and each one of them had a painted face for a figurehead. The Snakil traditionally paint a serpent across the hull of each vessel, in deference to the god of the waters. But Pelas utterly refused to allow it. When he threatened to withhold his gold, they decided that their traditions were outdated.
By this time every high elf was more than capable as ship captain, and they were split accordingly, each one taking command over at least one vessel. Lohi refused to captain a ship, and insisted upon sailing aboard Bralohi's ship. Cheru and Ginat were also given ships, but Oblis remained aboard the Fatewind with Pelas, much to the amusement of Amro and his brother. 'After more than a year at sea he is still not to be trusted with more than a rowboat,' Amro snickered.
'It is amazing what men will overlook for the sake of loyalty,' Ghastin said, shaking his head.
They made certain not to speak in this manner when Falruvis was nearby. Falruvis was under no illusions as far as Pelas was concerned. He did not love him as Bralohi did, nor did he respect him as did Cheru and Oblis, and he certainly did not worship him as did the Snakil and, to a lesser degree, the Knariss. But he could still remember the way that Pelas and his brother had taken command over the rogue elves of the marshlands. 'Fate is with this man,' he would say from time to time, 'I can doubt him, but I cannot doubt this fact.' Falruvis had a strong sense of propriety, and he would not allow his servants to mock their master.
Jarot was coming along on this voyage also. He brought with him some five-hundred Snakil spearmen, all of them well accustomed to life aboard a boat. They arrived that morning with their dark faces painted orange and with their long dark hair tied in knots above their heads. Each of them carried a bundle of wooden spears beneath their armpits and wore a great length of rope about their shoulders. In their eyes was a look of war. 'Why do they serve him so eagerly?' Ghastin sniffed.
'If the world were understandable, brother, we would rule it by now,' Amro sighed.
Standing upon the shore watching the sailors make their preparations was the spirit Folly and his brother Death. 'Come now,' Folly grumbled, 'you must tell me. What do you know that I do not!'
Death said nothing, but his face was as full of war as the most fierce of the Snakil.
'You must tell me why you are so pleased with yourself,' Folly insisted. 'You can scarcely contain yourself. I cannot remember the last time I have seen you so filled with excitement - so brimming with joy.'
'Where is your brother?' Death asked.
'He is your brother as well!' Folly reminded the dark spirit.
'I denied it not,' Death said seriously.
Folly shook his head; there was no understanding this one. 'He said something about ruling over everything,' Folly laughed.
'Did he indeed?' Death asked, his head tilting slightly in the direction of his brother. This was about as much surprise as he had ever shown.
'Yes, I speak the truth, brother,' Folly said, putting his hand to his chest. 'You know that I must.'
'Yet also I know you speak the truth only at the very last moment - after all of your jests.'
'Well, this is not a jest,' Folly said, feigning sincerity, 'Our brother spoke exactly as I just recounted.'
'So be it,' Death said.
'It does not bother you, brother? It does not trouble you that he thinks he rules over both Folly and Death alike? Moreoever, wherein does master Sleep rule over Folly and Death? All men die, and they die utterly, and all men fall into my power from time to time - sometimes even in sleep.'
'If it is so, then it is so,' Death said, making an end of the conversation.
'That is as safe a statement as ever I have heard,' Folly laughed.
'There will be work for me brother,' Death said, at last answering Folly's questions about his excitement – if it is right to use such words regarding that grim spirit. 'Labors such as I have not been given in an age - not since the fall of Mount Vitiai and the rise of the elves.'
'And you are pleased with this?' Folly asked, feigning insult, and pretending to fan his face as if he felt faint - as if he could feel faint.
'You are so often my forerunner, brother,' Death said, 'leading men into my arms. Yet still you pretend that you do not see it coming.'
'I see it coming, but I know also that it has been prophesied that Pelas shall survive this,' Folly answered.
'For all your cleverness, then,' Death said, shaking his head. 'You do not understand your own doctrines.'
'It is not my place to understand,' Folly laughed. 'It is my place to bring confusion.'
'But do not be confused about this, brother,' Death said coldly, 'Life is a part of Death; not death a part of life.'
'What does that even mean?' Folly chuckled.
'Wherein lies the difference between the water of the sea and the waters of a man's body?' Death asked. 'Wherein is the one living an
d the one dead, when both are water through and through?'
Folly blinked at him in confusion.
'If it is a tragedy for a thing to fall under my power,' Death said, not willing to affirm that this was the case, 'then it is a tragedy regardless of who it is that perishes. Why is it worse to spill the water of a man than it is to spill the water of the sea? Or of a monster?'
'You are as warm as you are cold, brother,' Folly said with a gleam in his eyes. 'But your pity shall not slow your hand?'
'Pity?' Death said, as close to laughter as ever he had been. 'Why should I pity the dead for returning to the dead?'
'But if men be dead already, what need hath the world of Death?'
'What need hath the world of life?' Death turned toward his brother and spoke, 'You have a hand in this, brother,' he said sternly, 'It is Folly who has taught men to make a difference between the living and the dead, as if, by moving and feeling, they become something different from that which moves and feels not - or as though that which feels not is of a different nature for not feeling. This is all your work, yet you pester me with questions?'
Folly's cheeks turned red, 'I have been given, as we have all been given, certain tasks-'
'One of them being to torment your brothers day and night with nonsense?' Death asked.
'I strive to live in every way in accordance with my purpose,' Folly shrugged.
'So do I,' Death answered, the hint of a smile breaking through on his lips. His gaze was now turned toward the sea.
The Voyage
It was late in the afternoon when finally the fleet set out into the east. Hundreds of Snakil women came to the shores to see their men off. They danced and sang songs of victory, and threw flowers all over the beach until the shore was speckled with bright red and orange petals. 'They prepare for a funeral it seems,' Ghastin said.
'They have every reason to do so,' Amro said somberly. 'It is said the the Serpent has haunted the waters since the creation of the world, and has only grown stronger for his great age.'
'Then what are we doing on this ship?' Dalia asked with a chuckle. 'You both talk so confidently of our coming doom that I can only think that you have lost the will to live altogether. There are quicker, and I dare say surer ways of ending your lives. There is plenty of rope aboard, and plenty of sharp blades. There is also the deep sea beneath us, with its sharks and demons.'
'We jest, Dalele,' Amro said, 'But we know the perils of the rope, the knife and the deep. And we know the sure death that follows their employment. The truth is, we ought to feel just as sure about the Serpent - we ought to be certain that we go to die.'
'But if you are certain, why go at all?' Dalia asked.
'We go for Ele,' Ghastin said. 'And for you, Dalele,' he added, when he saw the look in her eyes.
'I go for curiosity,' Amro said. Fate is often a capricious master. I have watched this Pelas escape many perils; not the least of which is the way he was saved from the armies of Sunlan by his brother Agonas. I mean to see this to the end; I want to see just how far Fate will carry him before she drops him.'
'The higher he is brought,' Ghastin smiled, 'the longer we can watch the falling.'
'You two are treacherous souls,' Dalia said, shaking her head.
'At least we are not merely chasing after gold and wealth!' Ghastin grinned.
'If Fate leads us into fortune, then Pelas can ascend to the moon itself without any complaint from me,' Dalia said.
'And pray that she leaves him there,' Ghastin said.
They continued in this way for a time, each making jests about this or that high elf, but chiefly mocking Pelas. As they laughed, however, Amro began to grow distracted. He laughed also when they mocked Pelas and Cheru and Oblis, but he could remember the words of the three spirits. He knew that his service to Pelas would eventually bring him into the arms of Death. There is no altering the path of Fate. One must either become a part of Fate, and travel with it, or be ground to dust in its wake. 'Fate,' he said aloud. Dalia and Ghastin stopped for a moment and looked at him. He sniffed the air and said, 'I think I have exhausted myself. I should get some rest.'
Ghastin looked at him concernedly. 'I don't think I have ever heard that word from your lips, brother,' he said. 'Are you well?'
'I am well,' he answered. But in his mind he added, 'for now at least.'
Their silence as he walked away from them was almost more than he could bear. He made his way toward the cabins quickly, only nodding to the other sailors as they passed.
Alsley bowed low, his left arm hanging in a sling across his chest. After the Aguians fled they found him lying on the beach with most of the flesh on his arm chewed off. He barely survived, and now his arm was all but useless to him. But he would not be parted from the Dadiiron, which had been his charge even before Pelas set out on his voyage. 'Have a good night,' he said to the sailor.
'Um, of course,' the Knariss replied, surprised to hear an elf speak to him so familiarly. At that moment Amro felt closer to the man than to many an elf. For the elves, though they know they can be slain and killed, do not foresee their own deaths.
Amro felt more like a mortal in this sense - nay, he was a mortal. 'My hourglass has more sand, perhaps, but it spills out all the same,' he said to himself as he disappeared below decks.
The fleet sailed due east for several days, again following the whims of Jarot, who claimed to, 'feel the Serpent in his bones.' He also claimed to be able to hear his son's voice calling from the monster's belly. This last claim was almost more than Bralohi could handle.
Kolohi laughed, and even Cheru seemed amused. Such a reaction could be tolerated from the others, but Bralohi was probably the only one of his servants that Pelas truly trusted.
He knew Cheru and Oblis were stupidly loyal to him, but Bralohi was the only one whose loyalty did not seem to obstruct his ability to give wise counsel. This counsel was seldom heeded; at least, it was not followed openly. But Pelas liked to keep him nearby and always asked his opinion when a decision had to be made.
The fleet passed Ruguna on the eve of Morest. By the time the last ship had passed by the island there were over two dozen watchers standing upon the shore, all of them just a tattered cloth away from nakedness. The men carried spears threateningly, as if it were their presence that caused the ships to pass by the island rather than attack them.
Pelas laughed at them; Kolohi studied them through a looking-glass. He and Sol would have much to say to one another when next they spoke.
The two of them, more than any of the other elves, were interested in the ways of mortals. 'If history is a story, the story of man is like the story of a lion rather than the tortoise,' Kolohi said to his brother once, comparing the reckless haste of men with the immortal prudence of the elves.
Dalia watched the Rugunan in amazement. 'I wonder what they think of us?' she said.
'Probably that we are a flock of some strange monster,' Ghastin said, standing beside her watching.
'And perhaps we are,' Dalia added thoughtfully.
'Doubtless,' Ghastin affirmed.
The fleet did not relent from its eastward course for the rest of the week. The people began to grow uneasy, especially the Snakil, who believed that by sailing too far they might fall of the face of the world. The Knariss were more afraid of simply starving in the endless ocean. The elves were torn between these two possibilities, and the more remote possibility that they would actually find the Serpent. Ghastin, perhaps alone among the sailors, was also afraid that Pelas might actually find and slay the Serpent. He laughed to himself as he considered how deep his hatred must run for him to wish for such a death in preference to the possibility that Pelas should succeed. 'He took everything from me,' Ghastin reminded himself.
After another week and a half of sailing due east even the Snakil began to concern themselves more with their stores of food and water than with the edge of the world. Just as the men began to mutter amongst themselves
, Jarot decided that they must sail south. The change in direction alone seemed to satisfy the men for a time. And when this grew wearisome, after three or four days, Jarot revealed that they must once more sail toward the sun. 'The god of heaven shall show us the way to our fortunes,' he said. They passed several small islands, but on these there was no sign of human dwelling at all. Upon one of these stood a great smoldering mountain. 'Puri!' Jarot called it, as if he had not just invented the name.
'It is an island of death,' Pelas said, noting how there was nothing green or moving to be seen upon its shores.
'It is the island of souls,' Jarot said, giving no hint that this information came fresh from within his own skull, and not from the long traditions of the Snakil. The Snakil were men of the sea, but they were not seafarers - they fished the shores and the streams, but they did not cross oceans, and they certainly had never gone exploring. 'The island of - bad souls,' he added, when he noticed the uneasy look on the face of Oblis. This addition did not seem to comfort the elf-lord.
Another week passed before they came to a rather more beautiful series of islands. Here there was, once again, a smoldering mountain of fire and flame. But the face of the island was covered in greenery. There were enormous gulls flying above, each large enough, Amro thought, for a child to ride upon. Every now and again the gulls would swoop into a dive and splash into the water with great force, rising again with their mighty wings beating against the air, and with a fish in their beaks. Dolphins roamed the waters in abundance, and several other strange creatures of the sea. There were schools of bright orange fish, each half the size of a grown man, with teeth as sharp as razors. Pelas gave them the name Rudja fish, in honor of Prince Rudjan, who they had lost in their battle against the Lapulians. He hoped that this gesture would in some way appease the sorrow of Ijjan, who would receive the news of their success and the news of his son's death at one and the same time – if news of their expedition ever reached his ears.
The fleet halted at these islands for a few days. Sol and Kolohi led a party of Snakil onto shore to search for fresh water. The rest of the men busied themselves with repairs and with restoring some of the food stores. They found that the Rudja fish were not only good for eating, but also extremely easy to catch. 'The goddess has not taught them to fear the net,' Lohi said as he and his grandsons pulled the enormous fish from the sea. The great fish flopped about on the deck violently until the Snakil came at them with clubs. When the fish was soundly beaten, it was taken to be cleaned, gutted and dried.
'The goddess?' Dalia asked. 'Do you mean Evnai?' The elves usually only spoke of gods or goddesses when they meant to frighten their mortal subjects into obedience. But she had heard that the people of Alwan did not know of Evnai.
'Oh no,' Lohi said with a grin. 'I am speaking of the Lady Arie. The goddess of Nature as she is known in Alwan.'
'The hardships that all living things face shape the world. These fish - these Rudja fish - they have dwelt in these waters for many years. Probably for many ages. If there were any of them small enough to fall prey to the birds above, surely those creatures would spawn no children. So also if there were birds born who could not fly - and I have seen enough such birds in the marshlands. Birds born with half-formed wings - they are only good to be eaten by foxes. They will not live long enough to lay eggs of their own. So the mighty live and the weak perish, and the mighty give birth after their kind - the mighty. Lady Arie is the fable - she is the myth that many unlearned men teach to explain the making of living things.'
'Then you do not worship her?' Dalia asked.
'Worship? Have you not heard that the elves defeated the gods?' Lohi had mischief in his eyes as he spoke. He still remembered fighting upon Mount Vitiai, not against gods, but against near kinsmen.
'I have heard a great many things from the elves,' she smiled, hoping he would tell her more about those ancient days.
'Now is no time, and here is no place,' he said, his face suddenly growing melancholy. 'Besides, what use would such knowledge be to you? It has ill-served me thus far.'
'Still,' Dalia said thoughtfully, 'Isn't there some value in the truth - just to know the truth?'
'I don't know,' Lohi said, straining as he pulled another fish from the water to be bludgeoned to death on the ship's deck. 'I really don't know.' He wiped sweat from his brow and then looked back to the water where innumerable hordes of Rudja fish yet swam undisturbed. 'Haven't you any work to do?' he asked. His words cut her like a knife.
She drew her blade and took the head off the next fish as soon as it dropped to the deck. 'I have,' she answered, the hurt apparent in her voice. 'I will see to it.'
'Dalele,' he began, 'I will tell you sometime, I promise you. But,' he let out a labored breath, 'they were not gods, Dalele. They were not gods at all. They were as we are.'
His eyes were so full of sorrow and regret that Dalia could not bring herself to press him further or even to retain her anger. She smiled kindly at him and said, 'When you can; then you will tell me.'
He nodded and turned back to his work. Later that evening she asked Amro if he knew anything of the days before the rise of Parganas. 'My father knew much,' he said. 'But he told us little - so little that I cannot truly be sure that he really did know what I thought he knew.'
Ghastin's answer was no more helpful. 'The elves have burned the past with fire,' was all he would say.
That night the wind picked up, and very few of the sailors found sleep for all the rocking of the ships. One of the Snakil-made boats sank in the night, and three of their spearmen drowned. The sun rose the next morning only to hide itself behind a gray sky. 'Treacherous is the wind at sea,' Bralohi said as the elves took council on the deck of the Fatewind. Pelas stood before them with a deep resolve evident in his face.
'Treacherous is Lord Pelas,' the spirit Folly whispered to the lord of the elves. 'If Fate is with you, then what can stop you? If it is not, then let the storm take you and be done with it!'
Pelas repeated these words as if they were his own, much to the horror of his servants.
Lohi shook his head and took a seat. He did not think there would be any reasoning with a man who could say such things.
Bralohi was not so ready to give up, though, and he argued with Pelas well into the afternoon.
'The birds have all forsaken the sky, my lord,' he pointed out. 'They have gone to seek shelter on the island, and so we ought also to do. There is a harbor on the far side of the Great Isle. Our fleet - most of our fleet at least, can find safety there.'
'Glory!' Folly hissed in Pelas' ear.
'We did not set sail for safety, Bralohi,' he answered. 'We set sail for glory. You, however, can take your ship to the harbor if you must have safety rather than honor.'
'My lord,' Bralohi said, his face red with anger, 'I offer my counsel; hear it, mock it, send me to life or to death, but do not think that I will abandon your side.'
Pelas seemed satisfied with his reply. He turned to the others with a look as fearless as the coming storm. 'Are there any others who fear the storm? We hunt the Serpent of Thunder - we must sail into a storm before long. If we have not the courage to face the lightning of the sky, how shall we face the lighting of the monster?'
This point seemed to silence the rest of them. It was true enough; they would not face the monster but in a thunderstorm. 'It is hard to act in uncertainty,' Amro said. 'But if you are certain, lord Pelas, then we will follow you.' He did not seem nearly as conciliatory as Bralohi had sounded.
Pelas paid him little heed.
The Red Waters
Every face was bewildered when the order was given, that the fleet would sail on the morrow, rain or shine, thunderstorm or calm. The night was peaceful enough. The wind still raged through the night, but the morning was calm. Sails were dropped and the fleet began to move away from the islands. The Fatewind took the lead, and set sail toward the darkest patch of sky, where the clouds seemed to hang
low over the water. 'That is him!' Jarot squealed with mad enthusiasm.
Pelas nodded. There was no reason to believe the old man, but he was quite beyond reason.
'Thank you, brother,' Death said as he and Folly watched the fleet move out. 'It must have been very difficult for you to speak sense to him.'
'Not at all,' Folly said with a grand bow. If they were not both standing upon the wind his forehead would have touched the floor. His white robes flapped about wildly with each gust. Death's robes were untroubled, as if the wind itself feared to perturb him. 'What I spoke would have been nonsense in any other circumstance - so it all came out quite naturally.'
'Three days more,' was all that Death said in reply.
In accordance with Death's words, the fleet chased after the storm for three days. 'This at least should win for us a place in the histories,' Kolohi thought as he considered how strange it was for sailors to seek stormy seas. On the third day the storm seemed almost to weary of its flight; it turned with a fury and its wind struck the sails of the ships with great force. Three of the Snakil ships lost their mainmasts in that gust, and most of the other sailors believed their own masts would soon follow. The wind carried dark clouds over the fleet and the afternoon became like evening. Bolts of lighting danced through the air in great rivers of power, their thunder following their flashes without any delay or hesitation. Lightning ripped past Pelas' ship, striking the boat beside him - a Knariss ship whose crew would never return to Sunlan.
Just over three bowshots ahead a great spine shot up from the sea. The water began to swell, rising into a great mound as some great form pushed the water aside. The swell grew until it was taller than the highest mast. Every eye watched in awe as the Serpent's head appeared. Lightning struck its many spines as it rose from the deep and flashes of light streamed down from the spines into the monster's mouth before pouring out like a river of pure might. The light danced through the fleet, setting ships aflame and burning men to ashes where they stood.
'Harpoons!' Pelas shouted, his voice all but drowned out by the thunder. 'Drop the boats; prepare the lines. On my command - do not strike until I give the command!'
Nearly two dozen of the ships were all but wrecked, their sailors striving with all their might to keep afloat, or to clamber onto another vessel. Sol's ship was soon teeming with soaking wet Snakil men.
'Into the boats!' Falruvis shouted from the deck of the Dadiiron. The order resounded throughout the ship. Amro looked to Ghastin and nodded. Dalia stood at their side with her sword hanging at her waist and a harpoon in her hand.
'Remember, Dalele,' Amro said with a nervous smile. 'All the gold in the world will not serve you, nor will it comfort your beloved if you fail to return. Your reward shall be great, Dalele, do not lose it for the sake of glory.'
'What will it profit me to come into the arms of my beloved if to do so I must cease to be she whom he loved? I will act as I have always acted. I will not let a soul perish that needn't perish, so that I may have my own satisfactions.'
'You are the daughter of Ele through and through, Dalele,' Amro said proudly.
Ghastin said nothing, but the gleam in his eye said the same. Both men stood beside her like a king's sentinels, ready to lay down their life in an instant if it would save her from danger.
'To the boats!' Falruvis repeated, dropping over the side of the ship into a large rowboat.
Alsley rested his hand on the rail, looking longingly at all the spears and ropes, the boats and the sailors.
'Keep her afloat, Alsley,' Falruvis said as he pushed the boat away from the Dadiiron. Six Snakil oarsmen worked against the perilous waves to push their master toward what seemed to them to be utter destruction. He took a harpoon into his hand and tested the weight. 'Forward!' he ordered, as if there was aught more the men could do.
Amro and Ghastin took to another boat, along with two Knariss sailors and three Snakil warriors. Dalele entered the boat last, eschewing Ghastin's offer of help. 'This is not a lady's carriage,' she laughed.
'Forgive a man his bad habits,' Ghastin said with a nod.
'Habits?' she laughed. 'Since when have you been a gentleman?'
Ghastin looked out over the leaping waves in the direction of the Serpent. 'Now is as good a time as any to begin,' he said.
Soon the waters were teeming with tiny boats filled with warriors, oarsmen, ropes and harpoons. The Serpent stood like a tower over the water, burning them away with streams of light. Rain poured down so fiercely that Dalia almost thought she was already sinking beneath the surface. In a few minutes every sailor was soaked through to the skin.
The Thunder Snake raged, thrashing about in the water, its jaws opening wide as if it meant to swallow the fleet whole. Several foolish Knarissmen grew impatient and thrust their harpoons into the Serpent's flesh, piercing its neck. The Serpent rose from the sea in anger and pain, lifting the tiny boats from the water's surface, spilling the men into the raging waters. It was all anyone could do to keep their own ships afloat; no one thought of rescue, and no one hoped. Every man then realized, if they had not known it already, that this creature was as mighty as the Grave itself.
Pelas had escaped the monster before; and that alone was fateful enough for him to sail out to meet the monster with confidence that his lot would not be limited by that which was common to others. For this moment at least, he knew that his hand turned the wheel of the world. 'This time I shall not escape,' Pelas said, 'but neither shall I flee.'
The Serpent rose still higher above the water, its neck arched and its great jaws widened, preparing to swallow the Fatewind as it dove beneath the surface. Pelas ordered the ship to move, and it turned away just as the Serpent's head broke through the foaming sea with its bulky body in tow.
The splash of his descent was enough to overturn more than twenty ships. The Snakil vessels were almost all broken in some way. The rough seas alone were more than they were made to handle. The ships of the Knariss and the elves bore the turmoil much better. Many of the smaller boats were tossed and shattered against one another. But there were still a great multitude of them floating about in the water.
The thunder ceased for a minute, and the wind grew calm as the Monster swam below the fleet. No man stirred and no one made a sound. The Serpent was beyond their reach now, and he could flee from them, or come against them from below. Pelas grew pale with fear, not at the thought of death, but with the knowledge that the creature might escape him. No such thing had ever happened before to any man of the sea. It was enough to bring his name great fame and glory, and undying recognition - he had made the mighty Thunder Snake run away. Certainly no man would ever do such a thing for as long as the world endured. But yet this was not the purpose for which Pelas had set forth. He knew that he could die - he did not dwell on it. And he knew that he could have remained in Sunlan, and perhaps even someday overthrow King Ijjan and take his place on the throne, and thereby secure for himself the rule of Alwan also. Then he would be the first true King of Bel Albor, ruling from coast to coast, and from the North Forest to the Southern Seas. His mother's praises haunted him, however, and he knew that such accomplishments would not suffice - he was not a man whose steps would be ruled by Fate - not even should Fate bring him honors and wealth. He would take Fate within his own hands, and make destiny do his bidding. He prayed, he willed, he shut his eyes and called out to the monster in his mind. 'Do not leave me!' he shouted, almost in tears, sounding almost like a child pleading with their parent.
As if hearing his call, more than thirty great spikes rose from the water together as the Serpent wound its way through the fleet. The spikes shattered even the Sunlan built ships with ease as all the force of the giant creature cut into their hulls. Lighting leaped from the spikes to the clouds and from the clouds again down into the sea. Fires burst out everywhere, and more men and elves were lost to the dark depths of the sea.
After a time the monster vanished again only to
rise a few moments later with a Knariss ship in its jaws. The ship and the monster rose high into the air until they both vanished from sight. The ship broke into a thousand pieces and the sailors fell screaming into the jaws of the snake. The Serpent continued to rise, its speed beyond anything that could have been expected from so large a creature. In a frightful moment the sailors saw its final spike rise from the depths as the creature left the water altogether. The sky darkened beneath its bulk and for a moment the creature flew. He was not the Master of the Air. In a moment he crashed down again, splintering a hundred ships, and sending the tiny boats spinning.
When he vanished again Lord Pelas cried out, 'The fool beast has not fled! Kill him now. When again he rises, sink your teeth into him - be the beast and not the prey! Kill him! Ready your spears! Ready the harpoons. All of us! Together. Slay him! I am not Pelas; I am nothing. Together we are mightier even than he. Together we are a god, even mightier than the god of the sea. Together we are Pelas!' It all would have sounded absurd to men who were not, as these men stood, in utter chaos and danger. The elves rallied, the Snakil chanted and screamed and the Knariss mechanically obeyed their lords commands. The harpoons were prepared, the spears were raised, and every eye was fixed upon the water. A great swell rose from the water again, and lighting poured out of the creature's gaping mouth. Its great eyes were full of rage, and many hearts turned to water as the creature glanced cunningly from ship to ship. To have such an eye fixed upon you is to know death. But Death was not on the side of the Serpent this time.
Two hundred harpoons pierced the Serpent's neck almost at once. The beast flung its head back in rage and agony as red blood poured from its body in torrents. He swung his head left and right, trying to break free of the ropes and chains by which he was now bound to the tiny boats and to the Sunlan ships. Many of the ropes broke, and some of the ships were broken or overturned by his remonstrance. But the lines, by and large, held him fast. He made to dive again, his head plunging beneath the water. The Fatewind itself was nearly dragged beneath the water with the Dadiiron ready to follow in its path. The boats proved to be enough, and the monster's head bobbed back up to the surface, held there by all the ropes. Thunder streamed from his spikes like water springing from many fountains. Fires burst forth from the ships, and the pouring rain was not enough to quench them. Still the creature could not dive below the surface. A hundred more spears and harpoons pierced him, and ropes were cast around the spikes. Men drew closer and struck him with every weapon they could. Arrows soon peppered the monster's eyes and spears stood out upon its back like trees in a thick forest. The whole sea seemed to be red with its blood.
The monster was not yet beaten, however. It swirled about in a rage, dragging the boats with it in a mad spin through the water. The ropes wrapped around its neck and the ships were pulled toward one another, some smashing to pieces as they collided with the others.
Amro's ship was bound to the monster by six well-thrown javelins. But the beast rose from the waters, hoping to free itself with another dive. As it rose, the tiny boats were lifted from the water as well. The boat was bound to the monster by strong ropes, and now Ghastin and his brother were clutching these ropes to save themselves from death. Dalia slipped from their grasp, falling from the boat into the water. 'Dalele!' Ghastin roared. But she was not to be seen.
The salt stung Dalia's eyes as she struck the water. For a long while she could not see anything at all, and she was tossed about helplessly in the crashing water. So much rope was now tied to the monster that she was able to catch hold of one and pull herself from the water. She clung to the creature's immense neck, the waves crashing into its flesh just beneath her feet. Beneath the surface she could see its mighty coils passing beneath, undulating to keep the beast at the surface.
Inspiration came over her, and she left behind the lady to become a warrior such as has rarely appeared in the world. She pushed her feet against the monster, pulling a spear from its flesh. She found footing upon the shaft of another spear and with all her might she thrust the spear along with the rope bound to it into the water to strike the creature as part of it passed close beneath her. Her throw was true and strong, and the spear pierced the creature nearer to its hindquarters. As the monster pulled its tail through the water the rope pulled, and Dalia was pulled with it. Ere she descended into the cold water, however, she drew her sword and thrust it deep into the creature's neck, the dwarf-steel parting the scales easily. The monster's own strength pulled at her and she slid down the monster's bulk, cutting a great gash into its neck as the beast swam. Forty feet long was the cut she made; and she could scarcely maintain her grip on the sword as she was dragged through the water. But the fatal wound was made, and the monster's blood poured from its body like a river, darkening the surface of the sea. Rather than diving below and crushing Amro, Ghastin and every other soul among them beneath its bulk, the Serpent coiled back and gave one final thrash before losing its vigor to the wound she had inflicted upon it. In an instant the sea was calm, and the monster lay before them, its lungs deflating for one final time as its spirit passed away into the air.
There was a moment of stunned silence, where no man knew what to say or think. They still could not believe what had just transpired. In a short while a chorus of voices cried out, 'Cutha Dalelis Marineis! The Sword of Dalia the Mariner!' To this chorus Bralohi quickly added, 'Praise Pelas Parganais, the Slayer of the Thunder Snake!'
The people were so relieved to still draw breath, and so taken by the moment that they fell into this new round of praises without thought. In accordance with what Pelas had just said of them - that they were, together, mighty as a god - their praises were for themselves as much as for their lord. But Pelas, quickly forgetting his own words, received all the praise as unto himself personally. It is said that in that moment, when Fate brought him victory over the Thunder Snake, he fully and finally turned against his brother. He did not even think of Agonas at that moment, or wonder how he had fared in his quest against the Beast of the Earth. But he thought so much of himself then that there was now no longer any room for a rival. He was a god, and his brother would not share in his glory.