"Mel Odom - Forgotten Realms - Threat from the Sea Trilogy 03 - The Sea Devils" - читать интересную книгу автора (Odom Mel)

happened to sahuagin born too close to sea elves. Her life had been further cursed by the fact that her
skin was the pink of a surface world elf, not the blue or green of a true sea elf.
Somewhat less than six feet tall, slender and supple, she looked weak.
She wore her night-black hair pulled back, bound with fish bones and bits of coral. Her clothing
consisted only of the war harness worn by the sahuagin, straps around her waist, thighs, and arms that
allowed her to tie weapons and nets so she could keep her hands free.
Iakhovas's mystical ship lay at anchor half a mile from shore, only a short distance for one born to
wander the sea. Tarjana was one hundred thirty feet long and twenty feet wide, and took one hundred
forty rowers, seventy to a side. There was enough room aboard to comfortably fit another one hundred
fifty men. Huge crossbows with harpoon-sized quarrels lined the port and starboard sides. Purple and
yellow sails lay furled around the three tall masts. Sahuagin warriors filled the deck as well as the water
around the ship.
Laaqueel swam among the sahuagin without comment. As senior high priestess to the king, she
demanded respect. She grabbed the net hung over the vessel's side and pulled herself up, regretting the
need to leave the sea. She crossed to the stern castle and knocked on the door to the captain's quarters.
"Enter," Iakhovas's great voice boomed from inside the room.
The malenti priestess felt a momentary tingle when she touched the door latch and knew that
Iakhovas had heavily warded the entrance. She stepped through into the large room and blinked,
adjusting her vision against the darkness within.
"Did you find the item I sent you for?" Iakhovas asked.
"Yes, Most Exalted One, but I lost all the warriors under my command."
Laaqueel stood, waiting to be chastised.
 "The druids are a cunning and vicious lot. Don't worry, Most Favored One, the Shark God smiles
down on you without respite."
Iakhovas sat in a large whalebone chair that could have doubled as a throne. Though other sahuagin
aboard Tarjana only saw him as one of their own, the malenti priestess saw him as human, though she
wasn't sure if even that was his real form.
Iakhovas stood over seven feet tall, an axe handle wide at the shoulders and thick-chested. Black
hair spilled over his shoulders, framing a face that would have been handsome if not for the ancient
scarring that twisted his features. He wore a short beard and mustache. A black eye patch covered the
empty socket. He was dressed in black breeches and a dark green shirt. A flowing black cloak hung
over his shoulders.
The table before him was nailed to the ship's floor so it wouldn't move in rough seas. Dozens of
objects littered the tabletop.
Laaqueel recognized some of them from the hunts Iakhovas had engineered over the years. Others
were from recent finds made by Vurgrom and the other Inner Sea pirates. Sea elves and other creatures,
as well as many sahuagin warriors, had died in the gathering of those things. Just as the sahuagin warriors
that accompanied her that day had died.
Iakhovas worked diligently at his task. He picked up a curved instrument set with five green gems,
each of a different hue. In his hands, the instrument grew steadily smaller, until it was a tiny thing almost
lost between his thumb and forefinger. Satisfied with his efforts, he fitted the piece into a small golden
globe in the palm of his hand. A distinct, high-pitched note sounded when the instrument fit into place.
"Give me the item I sent you for," he commanded.
The malenti reached into the net at her side and brought forth the slim rod she'd found in the druid's
wooden altar. It was scarcely as long as her forearm and as thin as a finger. Carved runes glowed
beneath the surface but none of them were familiar to her.
Iakhovas took the rod from her, running it through his fingers with familiarity. The rod glowed dull
orange for a moment, then faded. He closed his hands over it and it shrank. With practiced ease, he slid
the small version of the rod into the golden globe. It clicked home.
A thousand questions ran through Laaqueel's mind, but they were all prompted by her doubts about