Scimitar Sun (3 page)

The two darted away, duly abashed, but returned with no hint of rancor. They never took anything personally, and never stayed angry long. To a dolphin, everything was either play, a joke, sex, or something to eat. She was rescued from further cetacean mirth by the arrival of the sleek mer scout, Chaser.

Cynthia always marveled at the beautiful harmony of the mer body with its environment. Their upper torsos were slim and muscular, vaguely human above the waist save for the five gill slits along the lower ribs on each side and the prominent dorsal fin. At the hips, however, mer changed to all piscine. Their lower extremities were compressed laterally, with dorsal and ventral finlets running along the crests, ending in powerful tails. They swam like sharks rather than dolphins, lashing their bodies from side to side, their arms set at angles like pectoral fins.

Chaser snapped to a stop before her and made a quick chopping motion with one webbed hand, then a circle, sending the dolphins up to patrol around them. Dolphins and mer were long-standing allies, though the relationship was far more than a simple domestication of an animal, like a dog or horse. Dolphins were the only air breathers that the mer truly trusted, Cynthia Flaxal included.

*Greetings, Seamage Flaxal’s Heir,* he signed, welcoming her formally by sweeping his short spear in a wide arc, but also grinning with double rows of needle teeth. Chaser always used her correct title and addressed her respectfully. Others weren’t so polite.

*Greetings, Chaser,* she signed back. *I need to converse with Trident Holder Broadtail. Is he in his home?*

Cynthia had worked long and hard to master the mer language. They spoke using a complex sign and body language and some simple sounds, and they had writing, but there were distinct curiosities to their vocabulary. They did not give proper names to specific places; locations were inferred according to their distance and direction, or by some event or designation of purpose. Only the location “home,” meaning “place of birth,” had a specific meaning to the territorial mer, so Cynthia always started with that and hoped she was right. Otherwise, she had to decipher directions such as “Ten tail flips west from the elkhorn grove north of the outer reef of the seamount where the leviathan sleeps.” It took some getting used to.

The organization of the mer society was just as confusing, but was slowly revealing itself through her study. “Trident Holder” was a literal translation for the office held by their most respected elder. Calling him a king or an emperor would not have been accurate, since the sociopolitical system of the mer, at least these mer, was nothing resembling a monarchy. Even after two years, Cynthia wasn’t sure she understood their means of choosing a ruler, or what powers that ruler had. The Trident Holder was a chief defender, speaker for the community, enforcer of laws, and war-leader, but he had no power to create new laws or make decisions for the community. Cynthia thought that this must be a difficult position to hold: all the responsibility of a leader, and none of the real power.

Decision-making was a community function, though exactly how that worked, Cynthia was still unsure. The Trident Holder had told Cynthia that when a vital choice was necessary, the mer schooled and presented their question, and “The Voice” was invoked. When the school broke up, every mer knew the decision that had been made, and it was the Trident Holder’s job to enforce that decision. Exactly what “The Voice” was, the Trident Holder could not explain.

*Broadtail is in his home, but he is busy with hatchlings. He will not be able to see you for maybe five tides.*

Five tides was more than two days; Cynthia would be halfway to Southaven by then. *I will talk with Quickfin or Tailwalker, then. It is important.*

*Tailwalker will be happy to see his betrothed!* Chaser signed with a flip of his tail that implied humor. Tailwalker was Broadtail’s eldest offspring, and thus first choice by the community for next Trident Holder. The community had also chosen him to be Cynthia’s husband. Though all knew it was a symbolic joining only, the marriage would unite the landwalkers and the mer in a state of truce for the duration of their wedlock. As such, it was a union of which many did not approve. Cynthia shared the dissent, though for different reasons than most. Because of her symbolic marriage to Tailwalker, the mer forbade her from taking a human husband. This was the root of Cynthia’s familial discontent: Feldrin was not happy with this arrangement at all. The proud Morrgrey was known officially as “The Seamage’s Consort” or “Father of The Heir,” and he detested both titles.

Cynthia’s heart twisted. She wondered again if that had been the reason he’d left. Feldrin Brelak was a big man, but his pride was even bigger, and his temper was a long time cooling once it was stoked. He had been elated by her pregnancy, but soon their discussions had turned into heated arguments. Feldrin had been adamant that the child should not be born out of wedlock, while Cynthia had argued that he had known the rules of their relationship when he agreed to it. She had thought he understood, but she was wrong. Feldrin had left, taking
Orin’s Pride
south to Marathia.

Cynthia pushed the painful memory aside to focus on the issue at hand. One could not be distracted when dealing with the mer.

*Please take me to Tailwalker,* she signed, and followed Chaser down the reef. She had no trouble keeping up with him; mer were fast, but they still had to swim. Cynthia used the sea itself to move, and could go as fast as she chose to. At the eastern tip of the reef they struck out for open water, and the color shifted to the deep blue of midnight beneath them. The pair of dolphins, Chaser’s charges, swam along with them, occasionally surfacing for air and sending shadows flickering down on them. The southern tip of Carbuncle Shoal lay to the east, but they would not go so far: about a league from Plume Isle a seamount rose from the depths, reaching to within fifteen fathoms of the surface.

Atop the seamount lay the city of the mer.

As they neared, Cynthia admired the towering lattice of coral that rose from the undersea mountaintop. This single living structure, a dome more than sixty feet tall, was the equivalent of a terrestrial city’s outer defensive wall. The structure’s complexity and ingenuity never ceased to amaze Cynthia. The coral lattice had taken eons to grow. The mer took very good care of it: grooming it, trimming it, and adding the formidable defensive structures of fire coral and long-spined sea urchins that would dissuade even a sea drake from attempting to breech the wall. Water flowed freely through the structure, but no fish larger than Cynthia’s outstretched hand could fit through the lattice of coral without being torn to shreds or punctured by dozens of venomous spines.

Chaser and Cynthia dove for the nearest entrance, a long grotto lined with glowing phosphor and defended by two mer warriors bearing lances and short, stabbing tridents. Nets of stinging nettle-weed were tied off to the side, ready to be lowered if necessary, effectively blocking the dangers of the sea from getting in, or preventing anything inside from escaping. This always made Cynthia nervous. Despite her considerable powers, once inside she was at the mercy of the mer.

*Welcome, Seamage Flaxal’s Heir!* the guards signed, lowering their weapons and motioning the pair through the entrance. Cynthia politely thanked them. Unlike their dolphin allies, mer were quick to take offense and held grudges indefinitely.

Inside the barrier, the true grandeur of the mer city lay before them; twisting spirals, arches and architecture inconceivable to land-based builders soared at all angles. The mer built without the concepts of “square” or “level.” Like the wall, the entire city was a living organism of growing coral and sponge. However, here the design was aesthetic instead of defensive, and the walls were decorated with anemones, sea fans, algae and populated by a thousand varieties of tropical fish. Mer teemed in and around every structure, working and playing in a cacophony of motion.

A tight school of a dozen finlings, barely old enough to be swimming unescorted, darted up to them and all began signing at once. Their enthusiasm and awe delighted Cynthia, and she managed to greet them without mangling her signing too badly. Several asked if they could touch her, to which she agreed. All mer found human skin a tactile mystery: no scales, neither rough like a shark nor slimy like an eel, close to a dolphin’s skin but not quite the same. Chaser finally shooed the school away, explaining that Cynthia was here to see her betrothed. The finlings fluttered their gill slits in mer giggles and darted off.

Cynthia followed Chaser through the twisting grottos of the crowded city. She’d been there many times, but the three-dimensional maze of the mer architecture always baffled her. They arrived at the aperture that led into Tailwalker’s grotto, and Chaser made a thrumming noise deep in his chest that was the equivalent of a knock. An identical call sounded from within, and they entered. Immediately, Cynthia tensed. In addition to Tailwalker, five other mer hovered about in all orientations, a sure sign that this was not a harmonious gathering.

 She knew Tailwalker, of course, and she also recognized his close friend, Quickfin. The latter was an enthusiastic supporter of the alliance between landwalkers and mer, and one of Cynthia’s strongest allies. Opposite them swam four mer she did not recognize. In the center was a male with a dark green patch on his tail, who seemed to be leader of the group. About him floated a hulking male warrior, a male with a red crest on the dorsal edge of his tail, and a female also with a red fin-crest. Coloring was one of the only ways Cynthia could distinguish one mer from another.

*The two-tail comes to call on her betrothed,* the foremost of the four strangers signed. Two-tail was a tremendous insult, usually not used to her face. *Should we leave so you two can spawn like dolphins?*

*Swallow your insults, Eelback!* Quickfin signed. He gripped the haft of his short spear with his webbed hand. All the mer were armed, which was not unusual, but Quickfin was the only one actually holding a weapon at the ready.

Cynthia had never met Eelback, but had heard the name often enough. Of all the mer who did not approve of the alliance with landwalkers, he was the most vocal. She started to sign something to diffuse the situation, but Chaser’s gentle grip on her arm told her that Quickfin was not finished.

*Seamage Flaxal’s Heir will not be — *

*We do not care what the landwalker seamage will or will not be!* the large mer warrior signed, his hand drifting to a long dagger suspended by his ornamented baldric. *She has no power over the mer!*

*I do not seek power over the mer!* Cynthia interrupted, shaking off Chaser’s hand. She was tired of being treated like she wasn’t there. *But power I have, and I will not be insulted by you in my friend’s home!*

Cynthia pulled the power of the sea around her until the entire grotto vibrated with carefully bridled energy. They could all feel it, and she saw nervousness in their movements. They knew very well that she could kill them with a single plea to the sea; the water was their home, but they were not immune to it.

*Do you challenge me?* she signed, narrowing her eyes at the mer opposing Tailwalker and Quickfin. *Any of you? All of you?*

The mer froze in place, shocked by her sudden and uncharacteristic vehemence. Cynthia had always been non-confrontational, playing the mediator and diffusing tensions. This was not like her.

The large male’s tail fluttered in frustration, the muscles in his powerful torso rippling with fury.

*We cannot challenge a seamage and survive,* the male with the red fin-crest signed, interposing himself between the angry warrior and Cynthia. *We do not seek confrontation, but discussion with the Trident Holder’s eldest. This one, with his spear pointing at us, has made threats. We wish to converse, not fight.*

Eelback touched his ally on the shoulder.

*Redtail signs truly. We came to converse with Tailwalker. We became angry with Quickfin’s threats.* He made a gesture equivalent to a polite bow. *Our anger is not with the seamage, but about the seamage, and the bonding of mer with landwalker.*

*I made no threats that were not earned,* Quickfin signed, lowering his spear. *If you do not seek confrontation with Seamage Flaxal’s Heir, apologize. Now.*

*Quickfin, please! There has been no challenge. The insult is void without it.* She didn’t know what had transpired to put her friend in such an antagonistic state, but demanding an apology would not stabilize the situation. *If Eelback and his friends wish to discuss something with Tailwalker without the presence of a landwalker, I will say what I have come to say and go.*

*There is nothing remaining to be discussed,* Eelback signed, making a gesture signifying departure without the formality or friendliness of a goodbye.

The four mer aligned their orientation, a sign of unity, and left the grotto. Cynthia noticed a lingering display of subtle eye contact and body language from the female toward Tailwalker. The display was nothing she could translate, but its meaning was obvious: the female was flirting. There was more going on here than a simple confrontation over politics.

*What was that all about?* Cynthia signed when the eddies from their departure had stilled.

*I am sorry that you were here to witness this, Seamage Flaxal’s Heir. They sought alliance against the union of mer and landwalker,* Quickfin signed, making a dismissive gesture. *They became insulting when Tailwalker declined.*

*And the female wanted some other type of alliance, I assume?* She made a gesture of suspicion as she looked fixedly at Tailwalker, who was remaining uncharacteristically passive and showing signs of embarrassment with shifts in his coloration. Her smile revealed her joke, and the fluttering gill slits of the three mer told her that her jest had hit its target.

*The female is named Slickfin. She is the sibling of Redtail.* Chaser’s tail flicked twice in a whip-like fashion, propelling him around in a tight circle. *She wants more than an alliance from Tailwalker, I think.*